Witches, Women & the Poison Garden: Untangling the Plants Behind the Stories of European Witchcraft

The Witch’s Garden
In the folklore surrounding the “witch’s garden,” plants were sometimes imagined as part of the preparations for the witches’ Sabbath; a mysterious gathering described in European legends and later accounts of witchcraft. Stories spoke of women gathering unusual herbs and plants, preparing mysterious mixtures, and using botanical knowledge as part of rituals associated with these imagined journeys and nocturnal gatherings. Such accounts belong largely to the world of folklore, witchcraft beliefs, and historical testimony rather than reliable evidence of actual practices. Yet these stories reveal something important: plants, especially unfamiliar or poisonous ones, became deeply entangled with ideas about magic, secrecy, and forbidden knowledge.

Colour woodcut, British Museum, registration no. 1834,0712.73. The British Museum identifies the work as a 1510 colour woodcut and notes its depiction of witches preparing for a Sabbath with potions and other magical paraphernalia.
The Plants Were Real
There is no question that European herbal traditions knew about powerful and poisonous plants.
Deadly nightshade, henbane, and mandrake appear in historical medicinal traditions, while Datura and related plants became known in different regions and periods.
Their effects were recognized long before their active compounds were scientifically identified.
Some were used medicinally.
Some became associated with magic.
Some appeared in folklore and literature.
And some became connected with witchcraft traditions.
But the presence of a plant in historical folklore does not automatically prove that every story told about its use is true.
That distinction is essential when looking at the history of poisonous plants.
The Witch’s Garden Is Complicated
The popular image of medieval European witches using elaborate combinations of poisonous plants is built from several different layers of history: genuine botanical knowledge, folklore, witchcraft accusations, later scholarship, literature, and modern retelling.
Some traditions involving intoxicating plants are documented.
Others are speculative.
And some famous stories about “witches’ flying ointments” have been repeated so often that they can feel like established historical fact, even when the surviving evidence is much thinner than the story suggests.
This is where botanical storytelling becomes an exercise in careful reading.
Instead of asking only:
“Did witches use this plant?”
we can ask better questions.
Who made the claim?
When was it written?
What did the author actually observe?
Was the source contemporary with the alleged practice?
Was the plant identified botanically?
Could the story have changed through translation, interpretation, or later retelling?
Those questions do not make the history less fascinating.
They make it more interesting.
Why These Plants Became Associated With Magic
There are understandable reasons that certain plants acquired supernatural reputations.
Plants such as henbane, belladonna, mandrake, and Datura contain potent compounds capable of producing profound physiological and neurological effects.
People knew that some of these plants could alter the body and mind.
In a premodern world, where the mechanisms behind those effects were poorly understood, such experiences could be interpreted through spiritual, supernatural, or magical frameworks.
But that does not mean everyone who encountered or used these plants understood them in the same way.
A healer might approach a plant as medicine.
A storyteller might see it as magical.
A religious authority might regard it with suspicion.
A folklorist might record the belief generations later.
The same plant could therefore occupy very different worlds of meaning.
Medicine, Magic, and Folklore
This is perhaps the most important point to remember.
Medicinal practice, ritual, religion, folklore, and superstition did not always exist in separate categories; they could overlap.
A plant could have a practical medicinal reputation while also appearing in stories about magic.
A poisonous species could become associated with danger without anyone actually using it in a ritual.
And a later writer could take an old botanical reference and weave it into a much more elaborate story.
The witch’s garden, then, is not simply a record of what people once did with plants.
It is also a record of what people believed, what they feared, what they imagined, and what later generations chose to remember.
That distinction is what makes the history worth exploring.
Women and the Knowledge of Plants

Modern popular culture often portrays the witch as the archetypal woman who knows the secrets of plants.
There is some historical truth behind the broader idea that women played important roles in household medicine, caregiving, food preparation, childbirth traditions, and local plant knowledge.
But we should be careful about collapsing all female herbal knowledge into “witchcraft.”
Women who knew plants were not automatically witches.
A healer was not automatically a witch.
A midwife was not automatically a witch.
And a woman gathering herbs was not automatically practicing magic.
The witchcraft label was often imposed through social, religious, legal, and cultural processes rather than simply reflecting what a woman was actually doing.

When Knowledge Becomes Suspicious
This is one of the darker parts of botanical history.
Knowledge can be empowering.
It can also make people suspicious.
A person who understands plants knows things other people may not. They know which plants can soothe, which can stain, which can irritate, and which can poison. In societies where knowledge was unevenly distributed, mysterious knowledge could easily become frightening knowledge.
The history of poisonous plants therefore intersects with the history of power.
Who was allowed to know?
Who was believed?
Who was feared?
Who was accused?
And whose knowledge survived?

This illustration comes from Johann Jakob Wick’s Wickiana chronicles. Wikimedia Commons identifies Wick (1522–1588) as the author and dates the depiction to the 16th century.
The plants remain
Today, we can look at these plants differently. We can study their chemistry, their botany, their history, their folklore.
We can separate documented evidence from later mythology, and we can appreciate the people who observed the natural world without romanticizing the dangers involved.
Perhaps the most interesting lesson is that the “witch’s garden” was never really just about plants; it was about knowledge, fear, women, medicine, power, mystery, and the stories humans tell when knowledge sits just beyond the edge of what everyone understands.
That is the garden worth wandering through.
Continue Exploring October in the Apothecary
Poisonous Plants, Medicine & Myth
Old plants, strange histories, medicine, mythology, folklore, and the stories humans have woven around the botanical world.
Haunted Trails & Forgotten Places
Old paths, forgotten places, local history, and the stories that linger in landscapes long after the people have gone.
More October stories will be added throughout the month.




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