A Popular History of Unpopular Things

The Cannibalism of Johan de Witt

Kelli Beard Season 1 Episode 74

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Join Kelli as she goes over a strange event from the 17th century Dutch Republic - the time a political leader was killed, strung up, dismembered, and then cannibalized. 

As always, we set up the history surrounding this event to get a good understanding of the Rampjaar - the disaster year - and why the Dutch people took out their frustrations on Johan de Witt. And we also look into the alleged cannibalism that took place. What does it all mean? What is the bigger picture? What in the world was happening in 1672?!

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The Cannibalism of Johan de Witt
Intro
Welcome to A Popular History of Unpopular Things, a podcast that covers the… unpopular stories from history - tales about disease, death, and destruction. I like learning about all things bloody, gross, mysterious, and weird.

In 1672, after a disastrous year filled with war, naval blockades, and general chaos, the people of the Dutch Republic had had enough. Seeking a scapegoat, they rounded up a man named Johan de Witt - who had until recently served as the Grand Pensionary, essentially the prime minister, but resigned. But despite that, he was still seen as the man to blame. Johan’s brother, Cornelis, was also swept up by politics, arrested, and accused of treason. The brothers de Witt were then essentially kidnapped and killed by an angry mob, their dead bodies strung up and mutilated.

But the crowd’s anger didn’t stop there, because some eyewitness sources say that some in the crowd cannibalized parts of their bodies.

In today’s episode, I want to look into that story. We’ll start, as always, with the historical context - what was going on in the Dutch Republic that led to what is called the “Rampjaar (rahmp - yaar),” or “disaster year.” Who were the main players? What was going on? What were the political factions? What was so disastrous about it, and why were the brothers de Witt blamed?

After we’re clear on the history behind this event, we’ll take a look at what happened to the de Witt brothers and whether the people cannibalized some of their remains. And regardless of whether or not they did or did not diet on the dead, we’ll try to understand the act - what did it mean to cannibalize someone on the gallows in the 17th century, are there any other cases of that happening, and what, as always, is the bigger picture? What should we pull from this story?

It’s good to still be going in 2026. Thank you, as always, for listening to me ramble on about and contextualize gross history, and I hope today’s story ✨whets✨ your APHOUT appetite.

So let’s get started!
Historical Context
So to fully understand what happened, we need to go over the history. What was happening in the Dutch Republic in the 17th century that led to this man being killed, hanged, dismembered, and potentially – partially – consumed?

Well, the biggest reason goes back to war. Wars – plural. The Anglo-Dutch Wars.

From the mid-1600s until 1674, there were three major naval wars fought between the Dutch and the English. First from 1652-1654, a second time more than a decade later between 1665-1667, and finally from 1672-1674. Three spats each spanning three years. Let’s talk about why.

When I think of the English in the early modern period, I think of the Royal Navy. Maybe you do, too. And there’s a good reason for that – the English Navy was a powerful, powerful thing. Not only in protecting and controlling waters, but also in enforcing blockades. 

I recently helped write a script on the worst historical film of all time – Ridley Scott’s Napoleon – so that’s the example that comes to mind first. The English blockade of trade in and around French-allied Europe was a thorn in Napoleon’s side, crippling its economy and shifting alliances, ultimately benefitting England. English blockades also kind of led to the War of 1812 in the US because the Brits were interfering with American trade in its pursuit of absolutely ruining Napoleon. 

That’s not relevant. My point is that the Royal Navy was tops, and it could also be terrifying to its enemies. I mean, I certainly wouldn’t want to be in a ship opposite Admiral Lord Nelson.

But I digress.

The Dutch found themselves in a series of wars against the English over things just like that - control of the waters. Access and rights to global trade. Dominance over various colonies. In short - maritime supremacy.

The English started the Anglo-Dutch Wars – no shock there – by passing the Navigation Act of 1651 to try and stop Dutch shipping. For those of you who may be trying to place this in the larger context of world history, remember that this is the period of time when the Dutch East India Company was a huge trading entity.

The Dutch were making tons of money shipping things like spices, textiles, tea, coffee, and other luxuries like indigo and porcelain from Asia to Europe. And of course a lot more than that, but you get the idea. But it went beyond just trading, right? This is the European Age of Discovery, where imperialism got its roots. We typically think of the Spanish and Portuguese in Central and South America, the English in North America, coastal chunks of Africa (Africa isn’t completely taken over yet – that happens at the end of the 19th century) but Asia was slowly being colonized as well. The Dutch used trading companies like the Dutch East India Company to colonize throughout Southeast Asia. They also had stakes in coastal Africa, in Suriname (which is in South America above Brazil), and of course North America too. Don’t forget that New York City used to be the Dutch settlement of “New Amsterdam.” 

And the Dutch made a killing with this trade. Literally and figuratively. I mean the spice trade alone from Indonesia made the Dutch Republic a serious force to be reckoned with, politically, economically, and culturally. This did not sit well with the English, who were also dominating global trade with their English East India Company. Very original naming conventions. I’ll call the Dutch East India Company the VOC from now on to help distinguish; VOC comes from the Dutch words for it. I’m not going to insult my Dutch friends by trying to pronounce it.

The English East India Company was founded in 1600. The Dutch VOC – 1602. And the rivalry between these two began almost immediately, not fully ending until the British ended up “winning” in the late 1700s; the English won a fourth Anglo-Dutch War in 1784, and by 1799, the bankrupt and crippled VOC was dissolved by the Dutch Government. So for about 200 years, the two entities – and by extension, their governments – clashed on both land and sea. Both wanted global hegemony, which meant control of trade and the people they traded with in the various American, African, Asian, and Oceanian colonies.

So the first set of Anglo-Dutch Wars, which began in 1652, was a manifestation of this tension. The English passed the Navigation Act of 1651 to try to stop Dutch shipping. In this act, the English tried to force all goods from Asia, Africa or America straight to England, on English ships, with majority English crews. Why? Well, if the goods go to England, then the Dutch can’t profit from them. No access to global trade means no money, which means the Dutch wouldn’t have any kind of control or even the illusion of control over the seas. And so, the two ended up fighting. I won’t get into all the battles because I’m not a military historian and that’s not why I’m here. But the important thing to understand from all of this is that the Dutch Republic was at war with England for a good chunk of the mid 17th century, and in the chaos of war, suffered economically. 

Enter – Johan de Witt.

Throughout the first and second Anglo-Dutch Wars, Johan de Witt was what we call the de facto leader, meaning he was the one with the power and authority, even if he didn’t have the accompanying title. My best modern-day example of a “de facto” leader is the UK’s prime minister. The Prime Minister is the one in control and making the executive decisions that govern the UK, but technically, the monarch is the Head of State. So as of recording, though King Charles is the King and Head of State, it’s Keir Starmer who is the head of government. I always liked the phrase that the English King “reigns but does not rule.”

In the beginning of the Anglo-Dutch Wars, Johan de Witt was the de facto leader of the Dutch Republic. He was elected as the Grand Pensionary in 1653, which functioned very much like a Prime Minister. Normally, a member of the House of Orange ran the Dutch Republic. The country was a decentralized confederation of provinces, not one centralized state. Holland was the most influential province, which is why you’ve probably heard of the Netherlands referred to as “Holland,” at least historically. But each of the seven provinces was ruled by its own wealthy families, many of whom became rich from maritime trade. 

Think, like, the Medici Family in Renaissance-era Florence.

Of these families, the House of Orange was the most prominent.

Now despite having 7 independent provinces, there was one chief executive who served as the military commander of the collective Dutch Republic, a position known as the “Stadtholder.” They were effectively the head of state. There was no monarch in the Dutch Republic in this period of time. Normally, the Stadtholder was from Holland, the most influential province, and more specifically, the House of Orange, the most influential family.

In addition to the Stadtholder was the Grand Pensionary, another very high-ranking official who also normally came from Holland, and they were the chief political and diplomatic advisor. 

But from 1650-1672, and again later in the 18th century but that’s not the focus of the episode, the Dutch Republic went through what was called a “Stadtholderless period.” Which I think is pretty self-explanatory. 

The Stadtholder William II died of smallpox, and Holland decided not to appoint a successor. They just kind of decided to rule as an oligarchy – a small group that controls the country. But what really happened was that power had shifted away from the House of Orange towards the Dutch Republican Party, and with it, power went from the Stadtholder to the Grand Pensionary. And from 1653 onwards, that power was in the hands of Johan de Witt. The first major political figure in this Stadtholderless period. That will become important later on. File that one away – Johan de Witt was put in power by the Republican Party, in direct opposition to the wishes of the powerful House of Orange.

Johan de Witt was in control during the first and second Anglo-Dutch Wars. The first was very much a loss for the Dutch, but they did quite well in the second. In fact, Johan de Witt ruled over the tail end of the Dutch Golden Age, which stretched from 1588 until 1672, the year de Witt was hanged.

It seems things are coming to a head – Johan de Witt and the Dutch’s Golden Age both died in 1672. So what in the world happened in 1672?!

Well, let’s talk about Rampjaar (rahmp - yaar) – the Disaster Year.
Rampjaar
Now I’ve already mentioned that the Dutch were fighting with the English on and off during the Anglo-Dutch Wars. But that wasn’t the only war for the Dutch, because the French invaded in 1672.

Louis XIV – that’s the Sun King, the French monarch who built the Versailles up to what we know it as today – wanted to claim a portion of land known as the Spanish Netherlands and make it French. Realistically, they wanted to destroy the entire Dutch Republic, but under the guise of reclaiming the Spanish Netherlands. Today, that land includes parts of modern-day Belgium, Luxembourg, chunks of Northern France, and a little bit of the Netherlands and Germany. 

But anyway, the French under Louis XIV embarked on their Dutch War. This Franco-Dutch war went on from 1672 until 1678, and ended with France taking that chunk of land they wanted, although they were not able to destroy the Dutch Republic.

But the fact that the Dutch were in this ongoing Anglo-Dutch War and now also the Franco-Dutch War helped make the disaster year, well, a disaster. And to make things worse, two German states jumped in to help the English and French as well – Münster and Cologne. They were surrounded on all sides by enemies. And in fact, the Dutch Republic almost fell. They were fighting the French and Germans on the ground, supported by an English naval blockade – one of the handful of times in pre-modern history where the English and French actually banded together as allies and weren’t just fighting each other, but this of course wouldn’t last for long. 

You can imagine how dicey it must have been for the Dutch. Fighting a war against two massive powers and their allies? You can’t even trade for more supplies because of the English naval blockade? It must have been absolute chaos. There wasn’t even a stadtholder – an agreed upon military leader – just Johan de Witt the Grand Pensionary! So you can imagine who the people blamed.

Political tensions boiled over, with the powerful houses in Holland and other provinces wanting someone from the House of Orange back in power. Specifically, they wanted a young Prince from the House of Orange named Willem III – to come in and take power back. 

Smallest of tangents here: Willem III later because William the III who later went on to rule England with his wife Mary – they were William and Mary, the duo who replaced King James II during the Glorious Revolution in 1688. Mary was James’ daughter, and William was his nephew. Replaced by daughter… and nephew. Yes, that’s right – William and Mary were blood-related. They were first cousins. I… I don’t really want to talk about it. Let’s move on.

So the powerful families wanted an Orange back in control of the Dutch Republic. But Johan de Witt also had his supporters. It was a tough time. I mean, when things aren’t going well and you are at war with multiple powerful entities, you would tend to blame the de facto ruler in charge, right? I feel like that’s just human nature.

The House of Orange and their supporters blamed de Witt and the fact that the Dutch Republic was without a stadtholder for the troubles their country faced. They wanted their own Prince Willem III in power, not the Republican de Witt. They blamed the Republicans for what was happening. And we all know what can happen when one political party puts this much hate on another, actively sowing division – it riles up the people, which inevitably leads to violence. 

On June 21st, a man attempted to assassinate Johan de Witt. It was unsuccessful, but left de Witt severely injured. As a result, he resigned as Grand Pensionary in early August, and Willem III took over. But that apparently wasn’t enough to calm his enemies, and besides, the war against France and England didn’t magically stop when the House of Orange was back in power. So the House of Orange and the people needed someone to blame – a scapegoat. Johan, despite no longer being in power, remained the scapegoat.

Johan’s brother, Cornelis, also a political figure and enemy of the House of Orange, was arrested on trumped-up charges of treason in early August. Apparently, Cornelis attempted to assassinate Willem III. But he never confessed to it, even after being tortured. Regardless, Cornelis was sentenced to exile.

But before Cornelis left  the Dutch Republic, his brother Johan came to collect him from the jail. And this was to be the end for the two brothers de Witt.
August 20th, 1672
Johan wasn’t the only person crowding around the prison in The Hague, one of the other Dutch provinces. The Hague today is the seat of government in the Netherlands and the location of the International Court of Justice, the judicial branch of the UN. It’s where, among other disputes, international criminals are put on trial for things like genocide.

But anyways, in addition to Johan de Witt, a crowd of angry Dutch gathered around the prison, waiting for their scapegoat. When Johan and Cornelis left the prison, they were attacked. Apparently “several thousands” of people were there. Cornelis was killed first, apparently quite quickly from a blow to the head. Johan was also hit, but didn’t die right away - he fell to the ground to try and protect himself. But he was shot and killed.

Their bodies were then dragged and hoisted up by their ankles. There’s this one really famous painting called “The Corpses of the De Witt Brothers,” attributed to Jan de Baen, and is from some time between 1672 and 1675. I posted it on my instagram earlier this week for those of you who follow me there, @beardhistory. And if that painting is anything to go by, it was a pretty gruesome affair. The painting is quite dark, literally. The only light in it illuminates the dead brothers, their bodies naked and hanging. I’m about to describe some gruesome stuff, so for those of you who don’t like it when I do this, uhhh, skip the next 20 or so seconds.

One brother - it’s not identifiable which is which, though I assume the main one is probably Johan - is facing the… viewer, if you will. His face is peeled off and it’s dripping fresh blood on the ground. He has also been disemboweled, and you can tell that there are organs missing from the slit in his stomach. He’s also got a pretty big slit in his right thigh.

The other brother is facing the right side of the painting. It’s hard to tell, but it looks like he might be missing his head. He also has visible gashes on him, but because he’s pointing away from the viewer, it’s hard to tell what happened to him.

So what about those missing organs? Well, according to some sources, the brothers de Witt were partly consumed.

Since I can’t read Dutch, I’ve relied on second hand accounts of these primary source descriptions. Michel Reinders, author of Printed Pandemonium: Popular Print and Politics in the Netherlands 1650-72, has this to say. And, uh, another quick content warning – I’m about to describe dismemberment and cannibalism… Sooooo… you’ve been warned. Quote:

The murderers were not giving in to their blood lust when they subsequently cut the fingers, extremities, and organs from the dead bodies; they were eecuting punishment in a way that was considered just and sensible in the early modern period. As [one witness] wrote, “It was as if the murder was a lawful execution.” A pamphleteer has also noticed “the order in the disorder.”

…Public punishment could include acts of torture and violence: tongues were pierced or slit, hands were cut off, bodies were decapitated and disemboweled, corpses were quartered, body parts were borne off for public disaplay nad bodies dragged through the streets attached to a horse’s tail.

[The de Witt brothers’ bodies], hanging upside down, were undressed. What happened next was later justified by various publicists. Firstly, the fingers of Johan de Witt’s right hand… were cut off. Next, their extremities were cut off, just as the cities and provinces had been cut off by the enemy because of their “bad government.”  Their ears were cut off because they had used these to plan several “deceitful schemes.” Their noses were cut off because they had used the image of noses as their sign of splendour. Johan had also sworn on the Perpetual Edict with his tongue, which therefore also had to come out. The hands were removed because the brothers had used these “to write unjust letters and steal tax money.” Their feet were chopped off because they has used these to go to godless meetings. The flesh was squeezed from their bodies in the same way as the citizenry had been squeezed by the war and the French progress across the Dutch Republic… Finally, their bodies were ruined because the brothers de Witt had tried to ruin God’s Church and the citizenry. The term “ruined” referred to the fact that their genitalia were removed and, along with other body parts, eaten by their murderers. Around nine o’clock at night, the hearts were cut from the bodies. Together with the lungs, they were wrapped in a blanket to be sent to England, after which “their torsos were put on sticks like dead pigs.” Justice had been done.

End quote.

Yikes. It seems like each removed body part had a grander statement attached to it. So what about the cannibalism? And were the brothers actually consumed, or was it figurative? What does it all meaaaaaaaaan?
Did They Really Cannibalize Johan de Witt?
Honestly, it’s not an open and shut case. We don’t know for a fact whether or not parts of the de Witts were consumed or not.

Could it have happened? Yes, absolutely. It was not out of the realm of possibility. I wrote an episode, my 12th in fact, back in February of 2023 called The Corpse Medicine where I examined medical cannibalism in Early Modern Europe. Taking parts and, uh, liquids from corpses was, unfortunately, part of medicine. For example, take this recipe for some jam, which dates back to a Catholic apothecary in 1679. Which is 7 years after the De Witt’s very public murder. Here’s the recipe, quote:

“Draw blood from persons of warm, moist temperament, such as those of a blotchy, red complexion and rather plump of build. Their blood will be perfect… Let it dry into a sticky mass. Place it upon a flat, smooth table of soft wood, and cut it into thin little slices, allowing its watery part to drip away. When it is no longer dripping, place it on a stove on the same table, and stir it to a batter with a knife…When it is absolutely dry, place it immediately in a very warm bronze mortar, and pound it, forcing it through a sieve of finest silk. When it has all been sieved, seal it in a glass jar. Renew it in the spring of every year.”

End quote

And as I said in that episode, that, my friends, is a recipe for blood jam. Specifically from someone with a warm, moist temperament, which in the world of the Four Humors meant someone sanguine, full of spring, life, and vitality.

In addition to blood, mummies were ground up like spices and ingested, or put directly onto your eyeballs to cure cataracts, or added to wine to cure coughs. Which is such a waste of wine. How dare they.

Human fat was dried and powdered and used to help with bleeding or bruising.

Skulls were powdered and mixed into a liquid to cure various ailments. Brains, too. Here’s a recipe written down in 1651 for the “essence of Man’s brains:”

“Take the brains of a young man that has died a violent death, together with the membranes, arteries, and veins, nerves … and bruise these in a stone mortar until they become a kind of pap. Then put as much of the spirit of wine as will cover it … [then] digest it half a year in horse dung.”

I think you get my point. Beyond using human bits for medicine, there was also a trade in body parts, in bones, in fluids. All… fluids. And in the Western world, it was used in medicine. So the idea of consuming parts of corpses? Not a new concept. Could it have happened? Absolutely.

But the part that’s important to consider here, as always, is the context. The men weren’t killed to be consumed. Survival cannibalism happens when there is no other food source, so the dead need to be consumed for the living to… well… keep on living. See the Donner Party or the survivors of the Andean Plane Crash. The de Witts weren’t killed for sustenance.

And this was not ritual cannibalism either, where their souls and power were to be absorbed by the Dutch population. As many historians have noted, the cannibalism here was incidental; it wasn’t the main point of their violent deaths. It might have happened, but it wasn’t the purpose of killing them. Corpse cannibalism was a thing. It was done in various forms, by the rich and by the poor. There were entire trades built around peddling human flesh.

Reinders notes that parts of the de Witts were sold, too. Their clothes and body parts were traded on the market, sold as souvenirs. Apparently, Johan de Witt’s tongue and Cornelis’ dried finger are preserved in salt and are periodically displayed at the Prison Gate museum in Gevangenpoort, where they were killed. According to the museum website, quote,

A frenzied crowd threw themselves upon the bodies of the De Witt brothers during their massacre in 1672. Their limbs and pieces of clothing were sold to bystanders at auction. A finger raised fifteen to twenty pennies, an ear twenty-five to thirty, and a toe raised ten pennies. Pieces of the De Witt brothers were later displayed in pubs. Some of the pieces were dried, and their hearts were preserved in turpentine.

A few body parts – a tongue and a finger – were obtained by supporters of the De Witt brothers. The supporters cherished them as relics, and even had a precious silver box made for them, with a depiction of the brothers’ murder engraved on the lid.

End quote.

So did they eat parts of Johan and Cornelis de Witt? Well, if we accept the primary sources at face value, yes. It’s certainly possible. Other sources suggest they were mostly sold off as souvenirs to collectors of the macabre or their Republican followers. 

But regardless, it wasn’t about needing to consume human flesh. Whether they ate parts of the men or not, the whole story serves as an excellent metaphor for the Rampjaar (rahmp - yaar) itself, which even has its own slogan: the people were irrational, the government helpless, and the country beyond salvation. And what better depiction of an irrational people, a helpless government, and a country beyond salvation than that of violence and cannibalism?

Okay. So the scapegoats were dead. Their body parts were removed and sold. Perhaps parts of them were eaten, or as one historian noted, parts were tossed to dogs. Fine. The bigger picture here was that Johan de Witt was held responsible for the Rampjaar, right? And now that he was out of the picture and in the bellies of his countrymen, did things get better?

Of course not. Because that’s not how things work.

Willem III, the Prince of the House of Orange — which sounds like a fantasy novel – the Prince of the House of Orange was now in charge. Did he do anything to avenge this brutal murder of his predecessor? Of course not. They were political enemies. In fact, he stopped attempts at prosecuting the men in charge of the attack, even giving some of them money as a reward! To be fair, his reputation took a hit from that. 

Eventually, Willem and the Dutch allied with Spain to help fight back against the English, the French, and the Germans of Cologne and Munster. War continued for several years, eventually fizzling out by the end of the decade. First he made peace with the English in 1677, which also resulted in Willem marrying his English cousin Mary, which I mentioned earlier. The French Sun King Louis XIV sought peace a year later in 1678 – they still very much disliked and distrusted each other, but at least the war was over. 

When Willem III eventually became William III, King of England, he maintained his position of stadtholder of the Dutch Republic, and he served as head of state in both places concurrently until his death in 1702. In that way, he could at least prevent the English from attacking the Dutch again! Though we know that peace would eventually break down, leading to the fourth Anglo-Dutch War in the late 1700s.

So what’s the bigger picture here of the brutal death, dismemberment, and cannibalism of Johan and Cornelis de Witt? It was a brutal, very politically-motivated, public lynching. I look at it as a consequence of the absolutely desperation of the people of the Dutch Republic, who were existentially worried about the fate of their country embroiled in multiple wars, suffering through a strained, wartime economy, egged on by the de Witt’s political enemies, needing someone to blame. It’s a story about the violence that can arise from political and economic chaos and uncertainty. It was very much a political act that allowed the House of Orange to regain control over the Dutch Republic. And although killing the de Witts didn’t change things the way your average Dutchman might have hoped, it certainly worked as the House of Orange intended – they defeated (well, killed) their political rivals and maneuevered their way back into power.

Fat lot of good that did, anyway. They were still at war for another 6 years after the Rampyaar. And in the late 18th century, the French invaded and, this time, took over. They only regained independence after Napoleon’s defeat and second exile in 1815.

So in the end, Johan de Witt was just a scapegoat. His political enemies masterminded his deaths by pointing the angst and fears of a nation in his direction. The dismemberment and cannibalism of his corpse was just an extension of that anger and an extreme example of the depths of political violence and scapegoating. And remember, his death didn’t make the peoples’ lives better. It didn’t end the Rampjaar, it didn’t stop the wars. It just allowed his political rivals to reclaim power, which was the point from the beginning.

What a horrible way to go. Political violence. Isn’t it just the worst?
Outro
Thanks for joining me for this episode of A Popular History of Unpopular Things! My name is Kelli Beard, and I hope you’ve enjoyed this episode on the cannibalism of Johan de Witt. Thank you for tuning into my podcast, and check out some of the other episodes if you want more!

If you want to support the show, I’ve got a link in the description for Buy Me A Coffee, a site where fans can fund small creators like me, but without having to sign up for an account. I would of course appreciate any help you can give me, but honestly, I just appreciate that you listened to me talk about cool history stuff. 

Be sure to like and follow my podcast, available wherever you listen, so you know when new episodes are dropped. And stay tuned to get a popular history of unpopular things.