Netherlands—De Bokkenrijders [Lynching of Johan de Witt, 1672]
Witches, and warlocks, for that matter, existed. The Pope could say what the hell he wanted but it was an undeniable truth. They existed and devoted their lives to make others' impossible—, for extortion, or for simple pleasure. Nations should know. There were some who managed to reach high places and do harm to them.
Holland called them bokkenrijders. They said they rode brooms but he thought they mounted on flying bucks to join their Master in covens. Though he didn't believe that they used these means of locomotion all the time. They were surely as practical as he was. Sure they didn't risk their secret, wearing fancy tunics, impious symbols, or shouting spells on the streets. They knew how to hide, how to pretend they were normal people and had normal lives.
They could even be his own grand pensionary!
These were too many coincidences now...He reached the power and both France and England declare war on him at the same time, his cities and ports were pillaged, his commerce, the blood that ran through his veins, interrupted, his army was deteriorated...
Bokkenrijders are known for robbing and damaging people for the Devil, and of course the Devil would want to get his hand on someone who had clearly been favored by the Lord with prosperity and grace.
Orange said it was the man he had let into his government. De Witt, he was the culprit! He was the one who was undermining his health and benefiting from his woes. He did it!
'You must not allow a sorcerer to live'—thus saith the Lord. So everyone knew what needed to be done. And since it was Heaven who commanded it, they were quick to oblige.
The bokkenridjer went to visit his brother to jail, attracted with a letter. What he encountered was a quite numerous and enthusiastic committee. Holland still had loyal friends around, thank goodness. Many, many people willing to get rid of the evil forces oppressing him. Which didn't mean that Holland himself didn't actively beat the bastard to death. He hadn't fought hard to escape Spain's impious hands to fall into the hands of another one of Satan's minions!
His lips curved with satisfaction, seeing how the bokkenridjers were hanged upside down and someone slit them open. Holland's supporters celebrated with clapping and dancing the death of the cause of his (their) misfortune, and they were so drunk with sadistic glee that they used their own knives to cut pieces of them.
Most of them took them home, as a souvenir of this good day, or to put them on sale. Holland, on the other hand, approached to grab a chunk of his former boss' liver and swallowed it raw. In his delirium, he took a few more and ate them too, savoring them. That was what he did to those who tried to harm him!