<PERSON> historical novel Witch Wood (published 1927, set in 1644) is an early-ish example of an independent (not clerical) witch hunter in fiction, but this is not at all a heroic one. Anyone thinking of reading it, be warned, that particular section is extremely grisly.
[<PERSON>'s sermon] had a new hearer. A man sat beneath the pulpit whose eyes never moved from the minister's face--a mere lath of a man, thin to emaciation, with a narrow head and a much-freckled face, a ragged beard, and eyes with red lights in them like a ferret's. <PERSON> noticed that, as the kirk emptied, the others seemed to shun the newcomer's proximity. As he moved to the door, there was a drift away from him, like sheep from a collie.
The stranger is revealed to be a travelling "pricker" (witch-finder) called <PERSON>.
As he rode to <PERSON> next day <PERSON> reflected much on <PERSON>'s tale. Who could have brought a pricker to Woodilee--and lodged him with <PERSON>? Was it the work of the Presbytery? Was it a plan to cover up the major sin by hunting out minor sinners? He knew of the pricker class as of the worst repute, knaves and quacks who stirred up popular superstition and were responsible often for hideous brutalities. Even the Law looked askance at them. He did not like to be absent from his parish when such a creature was let loose in it.
The "major sin" is <PERSON> himself, a respected Elder of the local church who <PERSON> has reason to suspect is secretly the leader of a coven of devil-worshipping witches. The pricker fulfils <PERSON>'s worst fears. 351
<PERSON> returns home to find that <PERSON>, avoiding all suspicion himself, has accused one of his own deluded followers as a witch, a simple-minded old woman called <PERSON>. With the help of some of the villagers, <PERSON> beats a nonsensical confession out of her, and she later dies of her injuries.
Notably, <PERSON>'s legal standing is described as none too sound.
"If there's blame to be cast it's on this pricker chiel that comes from I know not where."
There was something in the quiet tones which fell like oil on yeasty water. <PERSON> settled back his sword into its sheath, <PERSON> sat down again on his keg, <PERSON> turned his head to the speaker with the first sign of discomposure he had yet shown.
"Ye'll forgive me, neighbours," <PERSON> continued, "since I'm but new come to the parish, but I've seen a hantle o' the world, and I would be wae to see honest men run their heids against a stone wall. The woman may be a' you say and waur, but it looks as if her handlin' had been ower sair, and I'm muckle mista'en if she'll no be a corp ere morning. Consider, friends.--This is no a court constituted by a Privy Council commission; it's nae mair than a private gathering o' well-wishers to the <PERSON><PHONE_NUMBER>) is an early-ish example of an independent (not clerical) witch hunter in fiction, but this is not at all a heroic one. Anyone thinking of reading it, be warned, that particular section is extremely grisly.
[David's sermon] had a new hearer. A man sat beneath the pulpit whose eyes never moved from the minister's face--a mere lath of a man, thin to emaciation, with a narrow head and a much-freckled face, a ragged beard, and eyes with red lights in them like a ferret's. David noticed that, as the kirk emptied, the others seemed to shun the newcomer's proximity. As he moved to the door, there was a drift away from him, like sheep from a collie.
The stranger is revealed to be a travelling "pricker" (witch-finder) called John Kincaid.
As he rode to Kirk Aller next day David reflected much on Isobel's tale. Who could have brought a pricker to Woodilee--and lodged him with Chasehope? Was it the work of the Presbytery? Was it a plan to cover up the major sin by hunting out minor sinners? He knew of the pricker class as of the worst repute, knaves and quacks who stirred up popular superstition and were responsible often for hideous brutalities. 351