One of the fastest growing religions in the world is modern pagan witchcraft, otherwise known as Wicca.

And it’s all thanks to a middle aged man from Dorset called Gerald Gardner.

Contrary to popular belief, Wiccans – who call themselves witches – don’t worship the devil. They bow down instead to the goddess of nature. They have no need for a church or temple as their connection with the land leads them to perform their rituals outdoors.

To this day, covens gather in our forest areas, believing in the power to cast spells. But they don’t court publicity. They go about worshipping their gods, respecting the moon and working with crystals, incense, oils and brews with no fanfare. They use herbs and find magic in other kitchen ingredients. They like to develop their own abilities and intuition.

And it’s said that in 2013 you’re never far from a witch.

The forthcoming census results are expected to show that Wicca is one of the top 10 religions in the UK.

But why are more and more people turning to the faith? Some say it is because we have lost our sense of belonging and we need to connect once again to the rhythms of the earth, when people would plant their crops by the phases of the moon, and celebrate the seasons. Wicca also has polarity between the male and female.

Some people find that this balance is more to their liking than a patriarchal community.

Wicca was developed in the 1940s by a middle aged nudist from Highcliffe called Gerald Gardner. Known as King of the Witches, the slightly odd-looking Gardner had the sort of appearance that lent itself perfectly to this moniker.

Speaking on the Channel Four documentary A Very British Witchcraft, Christchurch historian Ian Stevenson remembers: “He would stand out from the crowd. He had a shock of white hair and tattoos on his arms. People would cross the road when they saw him as he was a little odd looking.”

In 1938 the 52-year-old ex-colonial gent retired with his wife to Highcliffe – an archetypal English community.

Back then it was a hotspot for naturists, of which Gardner was one. An article in the Christchurch Times in 1939 reported on the fact that well-regarded members of the community such as teachers and bankers were turning their attentions to this particular pastime.

In the same year, after encountering the New Forest coven, Gardner was initiated into witchcraft, and until his death nearly 30 years later, he devoted his life to it.

After initiation he decided to revive the faith, supplementing the coven’s rituals with ideas borrowed from English folklore witchcraft, Freemasonary (from which the pentagram symbol comes), ceremonial magic and the writings of Aleister Crowley.

During his earlier travels abroad he studied tribal cultures and became fascinated by tribal ritual magic. “Magic to these people was real,” he wrote in his biography.

By the time he moved to Highcliffe, Gardner had been studying magic for many years. He made contact with occultists and a large group of freemasons who lived nearby and knew about local folklore and the ‘lie of the land’.

But he had ambitions on a much larger scale. He didn’t just want to cure a wart. He wanted to change the world.

And he wanted to test his new-found magical powers.

As Hitler threatened with invasion, Gardner was a member of the home guard and he prepared to repel the Nazis with magic. In 1940 he and his coven did so in the New Forest by creating, according to biographer Philip Heselton, ‘a cone of power which he directed towards the high command of Germany and even Hitler himself’.

For Gardner, the threat of German invasion was the perfect opportunity to demonstrate the power of Wiccan magic. The command was given ‘you cannot cross the sea, you cannot come’. With the exertion of the ritual, many people died soon after. And while it may seem far fetched, Hitler didn’t invade, and even Britain’s government seemed to be threatened by the power.

In the 1940s the Witchcraft Act was still in force and it was illegal to declare yourself as a witch. Anything other than Christianity was treated with suspicion.

When Gardner published a book in 1949 called High Magic’s Aid, he used a pseudonym and the tome was disguised as a work of fiction, but it was the first publicised account of Wiccan magic.

Soon after spiritualist MPs, supported by Winston Churchill, campaigned against the witchcraft act which was finally repealed. Wiccans could finally be loud and proud. Gardner particularly wanted to spread the word, to bring Wicca to the masses so that it wouldn’t die with him.

He got his chance in 1958 when he was invited to appear on BBC’s flagship current affairs programme Panorama.

It followed a spate of newspapers sensationalising Gardner’s beliefs, saying he worshipped the devil. Now was the time to defend himself.

The programme was watched by 12 million people, many of whom had their first sight of a real witch, and learned about Wicca for the very first time.

In the 1960s Wicca, with its gender equality and reverence for nature, seemed to fit with the mores of the time. Soon after it marched into the mainstream worldwide helped by films such as The Wicker Man.

Modern-day followers seem to delight in the fact that they are enlightened by their own interpretations of the tradition rather than by following a long set of rules. There is a single rule, the Wiccan Rede, which teaches ‘harm none and do thy will’.

Professor Ronald Hutton who has been studying Wicca for the past 20 years sums his perception of Wicca up in this sentence: “Where other faiths say: This is how you should be feeling about the divine, this one says: This is how you can feel divine.”