“A plentiful compendium of poisonous plants and fungi! From murder mystery to medical history, to folklore and fatalities, Poisonous Plants and Fatal Fungi conveys the allure and intrigue of these powerful botanicals, demonstrating that naturally occurring toxins can also be the source of some of our most important cures. Toxic toadstools and poisonous plants have both repelled and fascinated humans throughout history, appearing in literature, theatre, and gardens both macabre and mundane. Poisonous Plants and Fatal Fungi is a collection of these stories, both a reminder of the power of the natural world and a reflection of our own human nature.”
—Coby Michael, author of The Poison Path Herbal and The Poison Path Grimoire
About the Author
Sandra Kynes spent the early part of her life exploring the wonders of New York City while studying, working, and raising her son. She has since lived in Europe, England, and now Midcoast Maine, where she resides with her family and cats in a mid-nineteenth-century farmhouse surrounded by meadows and woods. Sandra loves connecting with nature through gardening, hiking, bird-watching, and kayaking. On occasion, she misses New York. Visit her website at www.kynes.net.
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Other Books by Sandra Kynes
From Llewellyn Worldwide
The Witches’ Encyclopedia of Magical Plants (2024)
Magical Faery Plants (2022)
Tree Magic (2021)
Beginner’s Guide to Herbal Remedies (2020)
Magical Symbols and Alphabets (2020)
Llewellyn’s Complete Book of Essential Oils (2019)
365 Days of Crystal Magic (2018)
Crystal Magic (2017)
Plant Magic (2017)
Bird Magic (2016)
Herb Gardener’s Essential Guide (2016)
Star Magic (2015)
Mixing Essential Oils for Magic (2013)
Llewellyn’s Complete Book of Correspondences (2013)
Change at Hand (2009)
Sea Magic (2008)
Your Altar (2007)
Whispers from the Woods (2006)
A Year of Ritual (2004)
Gemstone Feng Shui (2002)
From Crossed Crow Books
The Avian Oracle (2024)
Forthcoming Book by Sandra Kynes
Fairy Trails (2026)
Disclaimer
The material in this book is for informational and entertainment purposes only. It is not intended as a plant or mushroom identification guide or medical resource. This book is sold with the understanding that the publisher and author are not liable for the misconception, misinterpretation, or misuse of any information provided. If you suspect a poisoning, get professional medical help immediately.
This book is dedicated to Joyce Koehnlein, dear friend and longtime supporter.
Introduction 1
What Makes a Plant Poisonous? 2
Botanical and Common Names 4
Helpful Botanical Words and Terms 5
About This Book 6
Part 1: Poisonous Past
Chapter 1: Cure or Kill Medicine 9
It’s All in the Dose 10
A Light in the Dark Ages 12
Murky Roots of Toxicology 14
Chapter 2: Witches, Shamans, and Indigenous Healers 17
Scaremongering and Scapegoats 17
Witch Trials and Broomstick Flight 19
Indigenous Healers and Shamans 21
Chapter 3: Murder Most Foul 23
If You Can’t Beat ’Em, Poison ’Em 24
Antidotes and Assassinations 25
Everyone Was Doing It 28
Chapter 4: Poison Pens and Deadly Gardens 31
Poison, She Wrote 31
Morticia’s Garden 34
Chapter 5: There’s a Fungus Amongus 37
Mysterious Origins 38
Toads, Witches, and Fairy Circles 39
The Elephant in the Room 41
Go Ask Alice 41
Inspired by Fungi 42
Part 2: Classic Killers
Aconite: The Queen of Poisons 47
Autumn Crocus: Medea’s Favorite 51
Bryony: Fake Mandrake 55
Datura: Delirium and Deities 59
Deadly Nightshade: Beauty and a Beast 63
Hellebore: Madness and Alchemy 67
Hemlock: Execution and Murder 71
Henbane: Witches, Magic, and Beer 75
Mandrake: Screams, Dogs, and Fakes 79
Poppy: Nothing but Trouble 83
Strychnine Tree: Of Mice and Men 87
Yew: Memento Mori 91
Part 3: Baneful Backyard
Arnica: Mistaken Identity 97
Brugmansia: Psychedelic Brews 101
Castor Oil Plant: Deadliest in the World 105
Cherry Laurel: Subtle and Quick 109
Daffodil: Flower of Hell 113
Foxglove: Fairy Trickery 117
Lily of the Valley: Good Luck, Bad Luck 121
Morning Glory: Xochiquetzal and the Virgin Mary 125
Oleander: Urban Legends and a Pirate 129
Pennyroyal: Fleas and Contraception 133
Rhubarb: What’s Old Is New Again 137
Tansy: Antithesis of Its Name 141
Part 4: Ominous Others
Broom: Marriage and a Royal Name 147
Buttercup: Crazy for Crowfoot 151
Corn Cockle: Spare the Weed, Spoil the Grain 155
Cuckoopint: Sex and Saints 159
Darnel: Dim, Drunk, and Double Whammy 163
Hemp: Gallows, Hashish Eaters, and Assassins 167
Mistletoe: Mystique and Dung 171
Rue: The Eyes Have It 175
Savin Juniper: A Long Tragic Legacy 179
Tobacco: Profits over People 183
Water Dropwort: Die with a Smile 187
Wormwood: Two Types of Spirits 191
Part 5: (Dis)Honorable Mention
Birthwort: Ticking Time Bomb 197
Calabar Bean: Back Off, Belladonna 199
Dieffenbachia: Don’t Ditch It 201
Giant Hogweed: Striking and Dangerous 203
Manchineel: Tree of Death 205
Pokeweed: From Ink to Port 207
Rosary Pea: Pray Carefully 209
Spurge: Ouch! 211
Upas Tree: Tall Tales 213
Water Hemlock: Deadly Toys 215
White Snakeroot: Poisonous Milk 217
Yellow Jessamine: Untoward Symptoms 219
Part 6: Frightful Fungi
Brown Roll-Rim: Fatal Error 223
Dead-Man’s-Fingers: Just Plain Creepy 225
Death Cap: Render unto Caesar 227
Destroying Angel: Beware the Wolf 231
Ergot: From Plagues to the Counterculture 235
False Morel: An Evil Twin 239
Fly Agaric: Santa and Soma 243
Funeral Bell: Don’t Let It Toll 247
Ink Cap: Tippler Beware 249
Jack-o’-Lantern: Trick No Treat 253
Liberty Cap: Symbol of Freedom 257
Webcap: Wicked Deadly 261
Conclusion 265
Selected Bibliography 267
Index 277
Introduction
Plants are our allies. Since the dawn of human time, we have relied on them for almost everything: food, medicine, wood for building shelters, fibers for making clothing, and a wide range of other domestic necessities. They also serve as memorials, placed or grown on the graves of our loved ones. Plants fascinate and enchant us with their beauty and fragrance; we enjoy them so much that we give them as gifts. The enthusiastic Victorians created an interpretation of plant meanings with a language of flowers. As children, many of us delighted in the charming drawings of English illustrator Cicely Mary Barker (1895–1973) that showed flower fairies playing amongst an endless array of beautiful plants.
But all was not bucolic splendor. In childhood, we also learned that some plants and fungi have a dangerous side and can be put to sinister use. We don’t know the ingredients of the recipe called Sleeping Death that the Evil Queen used to poison Snow White, but the delivery device was a shiny red apple. In Barbar the Elephant, the pachyderm king died after eating a poisonous mushroom, and in The Wizard of Oz, as Dorothy and her friends walked through a poppy field, the dangerous effects of the flowers made her (and Toto, too) fall asleep. And then there’s Alice, who fell down a rabbit hole and encountered a hookah-smoking caterpillar that suggested she partake of a mushroom on her rather psychedelic trip through Wonderland. Even before we could read these stories for ourselves, we learned to associate poisonous plants with the inviting and curious realm of the fairy tale, which increased their potential to fascinate us.
But there’s more to it than childhood stories. From penny-dreadful novels, murder mysteries, and true crime television programs to the popularity of Halloween, we seem to have a penchant for ghoulishness. And though we may fear it, we also have a fascination with the mystery of death. Poisonous plants and fatal fungi fit into and feed this dark enchantment like a gothic charm. Some of
them have a sinister beauty that piques the imagination and makes us wonder how something so alluring could be so dangerous. Sometimes we delight in the things that scare us and sometimes we are fascinated by the things that horrify us. We like getting scared. In fact, we’re hardwired for it.
Whether bungee jumping or watching a horror film, getting scared is a full-body experience. Fear makes the heart rate go up and the fight-or-flight response kick in with a rush of adrenaline, which in turn triggers the release of endorphins and dopamine. But unlike real danger, we know we’re safe and, with the chemicals the body has released into the bloodstream, we even feel good.
As with the scary fairy tales of childhood, a little bit of fear keeps us on our toes. It keeps us alert to the dangerous world out there beyond our cozy homes, but more importantly, we also learn about ourselves and how we might deal with threats. Although reading about poisonous plants may not elicit the same chemical cocktail response in the body as riding an amusement park roller coaster, like other similar activities, it may appeal to a sense of the macabre that sometimes allows us a little glimpse of our own dark sides. A true crime television show or murder mystery novel may prompt us to think like a killer or ponder how best to carry out a poisoning. For a little while we get to be the villain, we get to pretend, but then we come back to ourselves knowing that we are not the bad guys, nor do we want to be. We get to enjoy a little escapism that is not only entertaining, but also helps reinforce social guardrails.
However, not all the tales told throughout this book are ghoulish fun; many are dark, and some rather miserable, but then, poisoning is serious business. From a distance we are safe to look down the dark rabbit holes of other people’s lives. While their stories may affect us, perhaps more than feeling sad, they leave us thankful for our own circumstances.
What Makes a Plant Poisonous?
Since plants cannot run away or hide from predators, they have developed special types of defense mechanisms. Some plants have a structural defense, such as thorns, prickles, or rough hairs on their stems, while others produce chemical toxins, which can be just as or even more effective. Stinging nettle is armed with both; nature’s belt-and-braces approach. It has stiff hairs that break off, prick the skin of the animal or human that brushed against it, and then release an unpleasant cocktail of histamine, formic acid, and serotonin. Although stinging nettle is not deadly, it can produce an uncomfortable to severe allergic
reaction. The chemical defenses of many plants and fungi are meant to repel, deter, and sometimes kill.
Phytochemicals are compounds produced by plants that are important to their functioning and survival. Some phytochemicals are defensive compounds that protect a plant against infections, infestations, and predators. Some defensive compounds are harmful to humans if ingested or inhaled; others, if they touch the skin. An entire plant may be poisonous, or only parts of it may be harmful.
Defensive toxins produce an assortment of effects that range from mild irritation to severe illness and sometimes death. Following are examples of some toxic compounds found in plants:
• Alkaloids are nitrogenous compounds that usually create a bitter taste. The alkaloid coniine is found in poison hemlock, atropine in deadly nightshade, hyoscyamine in henbane, and gelsemine in yellow jessamine.
• Glycosides are compounds that produce sugars (glycones) with toxic aglycones (nonsugars). These can be found in ivy. The cardiac glycoside digoxin is found in foxglove.
• Cyanogenic glycosides are nitrogenous compounds that convert to cyanide in the digestive tract. These can be found in the raw seeds and kernels of various Prunus species such as peach, apple, and almond.
• Furocoumarins (or furanocoumarins) are photoactive compounds that can cause a severe skin reaction when exposed to sunlight. They can be found in giant hogweed.
• Toxalbumins are highly toxic protein molecules such as ricin in the castor oil plant and abrin in rosary pea.
The degree of plant toxicity varies amongst different species ranging from minimal to extreme. In addition, toxins often run in botanical families. For example, the cultivated tomato is a member of the Solanaceae or Nightshade family, as is the notorious belladonna, which is also known as deadly nightshade. Members of this family contain the alkaloid solanine, which is toxic in high amounts. Most, but not all, of the fruits and vegetables in this family are safe to eat because the amount of solanine is low and decreases as the fruit ripens.
Botanical and Common Names
While botanical names may be challenging to remember, common names and folk names are a source of confusion because some of them are used for multiple plants and most plants have more than one or two common names, sometimes many names. To make matters worse, folk names are often applied incorrectly, causing even more confusion and, in some cases, perpetuating the mistake. Also, while two plants may share a folk name, it does not mean that all folk names apply to both plants. This may seem minor, but keep in mind that some plants are extremely toxic and can be dangerous even to handle or fatal to ingest. This is important because you may have a deadly plant or two in your garden.
In ancient times, plants were classified into simple intuitive categories. Eventually, classifications were based on scientific study, but for several centuries, plants were named by different botanists without any type of cohesive logical standard. Swedish naturalist Carl Linnaeus (1707–1778) stepped into the breach and changed all that by developing an identification system, which resulted in a branch of science called taxonomy. Botanical names are almost always Latin because during Linnaeus’s time it was a common language amongst people engaged in scientific research. Over time, as further botanical research revealed new information, plant names were changed to reflect the new data. This is why botanical names often have synonyms. The antiquated names are not completely dropped because they often aid in identification. For example, the plant wormwood may be noted as Artemisia absinthium syn. Absinthium officinale. Occasionally, a synonym may be applied to a plant because of scientific disagreement or plain old-fashioned stubbornness.
The basic hierarchy of classification includes kingdom, phylum (sometimes called division), class, order, family, genus, and species. The full classification hierarchy in modern taxonomy has about sixteen levels, but for simplicity, the plant profiles in this book include only family, genus, and species names. Botanical families are based on the physiological characteristics of a plant’s development and structure. In addition to changes in plant names due to updated information, the logical rules for naming them is periodically revised. For example, the ending -aceae was added to family names—with a few exceptions—to distinguish them from orders, classes, and other levels within the naming structure.
The two-word plant names that we find at garden centers are the genus and species. The genus, which is often a proper noun, is always capitalized. The
species name is an adjective that usually provides something descriptive about the plant. However, to indicate multiple species, a little botanical shorthand is used by adding an abbreviation after the genus name. For example, Datura spp. means various species in that genus.
Helpful Botanical Words and Terms
The term vulgare, as in Tanacetum vulgare (tansy), means that it is a common plant and not that it is crude or unrefined. The terms officinarum and officinale, as in Mandragora officinarum (mandrake) and the previously mentioned wormwood, indicate that a plant is, or was at one time, officially recognized as a medicinal plant. The term bane is sometimes found in common names, such as wolfsbane and henbane Bane is an Anglo-Saxon (Old English) word for poison and was incorporated into the names of plants as a warning.1 For the same reason, folk names often include the word devil to indicate that the plant causes pain or is dangerous or deadly.
Certain specialized terms are used in botany for describing plants. The following table lists the terms used in the plant profiles.
Helpful Botanical Terms
Axil
The area of a plant between a stem or branch and a leaf stem
Bract A modified or specialized leaf situated at the base of a flower
Catkin A thick cluster of tiny flowers; male catkins are usually larger than female catkins and pendulous; female catkins are most often upright
Lobed A leaf with deeply indented edges, such as oak or maple tree leaves
Rhizome An underground stem that is usually considered a type of root
Sepal
The outermost part of a flower that protects the young bud
Spathe A large, specialized leaf that surrounds and protects a flower
1. Storl, The Herbal Lore of Wise Women and Wortcunners, 234.
Helpful Botanical Terms (Continued)
Toothed A leaf with jagged edges; also called serrated
Whorl A circular or spiral growth pattern of leaves, needles, or flower petals
About This Book
Part 1 contains five chapters that provide a historical background of poisonous plants and fungi and how they played an integral part in the development of medicine. We will see how some of these plants became associated with witches and how Indigenous healers and shamans also used them. This part also follows the baneful path of plants used as weapons of war and traces their role in murder throughout history. As we will see, poison is an equal opportunity murder weapon and a killer doesn’t have to be strong, just smart. Real or fictitious, plants have served as an interesting and convenient device in literature and art. We will also take a peek over the fence to see how some poisonous plants are grown intentionally (or unwittingly) in gardens. Last but not least, a chapter is devoted to fungi. Technically, fungi are not plants; they have their own separate kingdom in the taxonomic scheme of things, at least since 1969. However, in the minds of most, they are regarded as plants. After all, like plants, we eat them, and like plants, some are poisonous and make us sick … or worse.
Parts 2 through 6 each contain a dozen profiles of individual plants according to themes from ancient use, Classic Killers, to mushrooms, Frightful Fungi. Each profile includes the plant’s common name, genus and species, folk names, and botanical family. A description of the plant is followed by information on its toxicity. While the poison used on Snow White’s apple had a cure—love’s first kiss—we will see that not all toxins have antidotes. The plant profile also includes its history, folklore, and medicinal uses, as well as how it may or may not be used today. While there are thousands of poisonous plants, I have included the ones that I thought have the most interesting stories.
As for the title of this book, we can be frightened yet fascinated by something dangerous, especially when we know we are safe. And so, let us journey through history to see how poisonous plants fuel this fascination.
PART 1
Poisonous Past
Once upon a time, there was a belief that the nastier the taste and its effects, the better the medicine— there was a very fine line between killing and curing. We will follow the development of medicine and medical literature and the role that poisonous plants have played. These floras also had a role in demonizing witches, and as Europeans set out to conquer the world, the same treatment was applied to shamans and Indigenous healers. With never an intent to cure, we will also see how plants were used for outright killing. The deadlier the plant, the better for warfare, and the more discreet, the better for murder. Of course, this has made great fodder for many stories and novels. The fantastical world of fungi is also explored.
CHAPTER 1
Cure or Kill Medicine
While for the most part all is well and good in our relationship with plants, some are dangerous and can cause harm, and some can kill us. We can only assume that it must have been trial and error for early humans to figure out which plants were for eating and medicine, and perhaps most importantly, for avoiding. Observation most likely played a part since many domestic livestock often avoid poisonous plants such as oleander. However, this is not always the case because some plants that animals may enjoy and snarf up like there’s no tomorrow are dangerous for us. The genus name for henbane, Hyoscyamus, means “hog’s-bean” and was so named because hogs love it, but as we’ve already seen, the term bane is a warning.2 At any rate, as cultures and civilizations developed, plant knowledge and herbal medicine were passed along generation to generation, traded with outsiders, and eventually systematized.
Ayurveda is believed to be the oldest system of healing and has its roots in oral tradition from over five thousand years ago in India. Information was eventually formalized and written down in the Sanskrit texts known as the Vedas (c. 1500 BCE). Traditional Chinese Medicine dates to approximately 200 BCE with a text called the Yellow Emperor’s Classic of Internal Medicine. In Europe, Greek physician and pharmacologist Pedanius Dioscorides (c. 40–c. 90 CE) compiled the first herbal manuscript in Europe, De Materia Medica, meaning the “material of medicine.” The forerunner of modern pharmacopeias, De Materia Medica was the authoritative go-to source on botanical medicine for over a thousand years. In addition, eight of the thirty-seven books compiled by Roman naturalist and historian Gaius Plinius Secundus, known simply as Pliny
2. De Cleene and Lejeune, Compendium of Symbolic and Ritual Plants in Europe, 252.
the Elder (23/24–79 CE), dealt with plant pharmacology and were a valuable resource for herbalists up through the seventeenth century.
The Anglo-Saxons also organized herbal information into leechbooks, which served as handbooks for doctors. The word leech, or læce, comes from the Old English læccan, meaning “to heal,” and was an honorific that indicated a person was skilled in medicine.3 It had nothing to do with the use of worms called leeches; that practice began in the nineteenth century. What the various traditions and medicines throughout the ages have in common is the use of poisonous plants. The record of poisonous plants is an integral part of the history of medicine with roots in ancient Egypt, India, China, and Persia, and later in Greece and Italy. Poisons and their effects were known to these ancient civilizations.
It’s All in the Dose
Although “poisonous” does not always mean “deadly,” medicinal doses sometimes trod a fine line between healing patients or putting them in the grave. As English physician and toxicologist Alfred Swaine Taylor (1806–1880) put it: “A poison in a small dose is a medicine, and a medicine in a larger dose is a poison.”4
Since ancient times, the aconites (monkshood and wolfsbane) were used throughout many traditions including Ayurveda and Traditional Chinese Medicine. In addition to these, Ayurveda employed rosary pea and strychnine, and in Traditional Chinese Medicine, Chinese ephedra was used. One of the Hindu texts, the Rigveda (c. 1500–1200 BCE) includes medicinal and poisonous plants as well as antidotes for them. The treatise called Sushruta Samhita written by Hindu surgeon Sushruta (fl. c. 600 BCE) detailed hundreds of drugs from plant, animal, and mineral origins. For anesthesia, he recommended wine mixed with a species of marijuana. An early Chinese pharmacopoeia called Shen Nong Bencao Jing is attributed to the mythical emperor Shen Nong (fl. c. 2695 BCE), whose name is sometimes noted as Shen Nung and Shennong. Containing information on poisonous plants, the book describes their effects and provides
3. Barnhart, The Barnhart Concise Dictionary of Etymology, 426.
4. Grell, Cunningham, and Arrizabalaga, It All Depends on the Dose, 10.
antidotes. It includes aconite, opium, cannabis, and rhubarb. According to legend, Shen Nong gained knowledge by experimenting on himself.
Egyptian medicine and the knowledge of poisons was regarded as the most advanced in the ancient world. Their use of plants is documented in the sixteenth-century BCE Ebers Papyrus, named for German Egyptologist Georg Ebers (1837–1898). In addition to botanical recipes for healing and cosmetics, it also provides some formulas expressly for killing. Amongst the seven hundred or so plants are hemlock, aconite, castor oil plant, sea squill, and the opium poppy. In fact, references to the medicinal use of opium have been found in Sumerian cuneiform tablets dating to approximately 3000 BCE. Gula, the Sumerian goddess of healing and medicine, who was also known as Ninkarrak and Ninisina, is the earliest-known deity associated with poisons.
Greek physician Hippocrates (460–377 BCE), who is usually regarded as the Father of Medicine, has been noted for his approach to healing and his do-no-harm philosophy. He originated the theory of the Four Humors or fundamental fluids of the body, which consisted of yellow bile (from the liver), phlegm, black bile (from the spleen and kidneys), and blood. It was believed that when these fluids became out of balance, they could be restored through the use of enemas, laxatives, and diuretics. Other remedies were aimed at causing sweating or vomiting, which was usually achieved with botanical remedies that included plants such as hellebore and henbane. Of the over four hundred plants Hippocrates named in his work, many were poisonous and included bryony, hellebore, and hemlock. Greek philosopher and scholar Theophrastus (c. 371–c. 287 BCE) described both plant and mineral poisons as well as how to treat their effects. Perhaps it is no surprise that the word pharmacy comes from the Greek phámakon, which means “drug” or “remedy” as well as “poison.”5
As previously mentioned, Dioscorides’s De Materia Medica was an important source of information about the medicinal use of plants including poisonous ones. Serving as a surgeon in the Roman army, his travels took him throughout southern France, Italy, Greece, and Asia Minor, which broadened his botanical studies. Some of the poisonous plants in his text include opium poppy, black nightshade, and mandrake. Mandrake was commonly used as a surgical anesthetic in the ancient world.
5. Barnhart, The Barnhart Concise Dictionary of Etymology, 562.
An illustrated copy of Dioscorides’s work was used as a medical guide in a Constantinople (now Istanbul) hospital for almost a thousand years. The book was created around 512 CE for Juliana Anicia (462–527/528), an aristocratic woman in the eastern Roman Empire. Originally entitled the Juliana Anicia Codex, it is now called the Vienna Dioscorides and is kept in the National Library in Vienna.
A Light in the Dark Ages
After the Roman Empire fell apart, Europe experienced an immense social upheaval. While there may not have been complete lawlessness in the streets, without the steady hand of Roman administrators as well as funding, towns and cities found it extremely difficult to keep the civil in civilization. Without the ancient equivalent of a police department, fire brigade, aqueduct/roadworks division, and sanitation crews, life would have been a lot less comfortable, less clean, and a great deal more challenging. Those who could afford to escape the uncertainties and discomforts took off to other lands. Many physicians and scholars relocated to the Middle East and along with them went a storehouse of information. Keen on expanding their knowledge, Arab scholars welcomed the newcomers and Baghdad became an important center of learning where European texts were eagerly translated into Arabic. The city was an intercultural crossroads for medicine and a gateway for trade with Asia and India, which were sources for plants unknown or not readily available in Europe. Research in medical botany flourished.
Building on the legacy of Greek and Roman medicine, Islamic scholars enhanced it with their own material and observations. Preeminent Persian physician Ibn Sina (980–1037), known in the West as Avicenna, compiled a five-volume encyclopedia, which came to be known in English as the Canon of Medicine. Avicenna organized, systematized, and summarized the work of Hippocrates, Dioscorides, and Roman physician Claudius Galenus, better known as Galen (130–200 CE), as well as others. Of course, Arabian plant knowledge and pharmaceuticals that were common in the Levant were added to European medical texts.
While the Middle East was the happening place, the early medieval period in Europe, which has been called the Dark Ages, was not completely dark because there were bright spots that kept the flame of learning and civiliza-
tion burning. Monasteries and convents were repositories for medical knowledge and the forerunner of public hospitals. They were also places of botanical research. Originating in monasteries, the Physic Garden was a place where medicinal plants were grown for study and use. Basically, they were an apothecary’s laboratory.
Although French philosopher and writer Voltaire, pseudonym of FrançoisMarie Arouet (1694–1778), noted that the Holy Roman Empire was neither holy nor Roman, its first ruler Charlemagne (747–814), who had been king of the Franks, ushered in some stability as well as a cultural and intellectual revival. Charlemagne was an enthusiastic advocate of the Physic Garden for his own private estates and encouraged them throughout his domain. Some of the plants he deemed essential were also quite toxic, including opium poppy, rue, caper spurge, and various species of squill.
Of course, the term stability to describe life in Europe at that time is somewhat relative. People didn’t gather in the streets, hold hands, and sing kumbaya. Then as now, there were wars, bickering, plagues, and pandemics, but overall, there was improvement, especially for those with means. Scholars were gradually filtering back, bringing with them a fusion of Greek, Roman, Arab, and Indian medicine along with more extensive botanical knowledge. The ancient texts that had been translated from Greek and Old Latin into Arabic were translated again into Medieval Latin. Avicenna’s Canon of Medicine was also translated into Latin during the twelfth century and served as an important textbook for the medical schools that were emerging in Europe.
Fostered by the monastery of Monte Cassino in southern Italy, Schola Medica Salernitana, the Salerno School of Medicine, was founded in the late ninth century. Far ahead of its time and exceedingly rare, women were included in the student body. In fact, the school also had an outstanding woman on the faculty, Trota of Salerno (d. 1097), who was also known as Trota of Ruggerio—her name is sometimes given as Trocta, Trotula, and Trutella. She wrote at least one section of the three-part compendium on women’s health that bears her name, The Trotula. Despite the prevailing Christian belief that women should suffer pain in childbirth, Trota promoted the use of opium during labor. Botanical experimentation was encouraged at Salerno and a general anesthetic for surgery was developed that had the jaw-dropping recipe of opium, mandrake, and henbane in equal parts. It would certainly kill the pain, if not the patient.
German abbess, writer, and mystic Hildegard von Bingen (1098–1179) is the only medieval woman whose work with botanicals and theories on healing has survived intact. Remedies with common herbs appear in her books Physica and Causae et Curae (Causes and Cures) as well as poisonous ones such as hellebore and tansy. She also believed that any mushroom that grew on trees could be eaten or used for medicine. A fact she got wrong and, in some cases, dead wrong.
English physician and botanist John Gerard (1545–1612) was Master of the Company of Barber-Surgeons in London. These were handy practitioners who could provide a shave and a haircut as well as remove a tooth or a limb. Drawing heavily on the work of Dioscorides, Gerard’s book The Herball or Generall Historie of Plantes was published in 1597 and became a classic text. Amongst the plants that he studied and grew in his own garden were opium poppy, mandrake, and other toxic flora. As a remedy for bad headaches, Gerard recommended rubbing belladonna leaves on the forehead; however, he noted that using too much could result in hallucinations and intoxication.
The unorthodox Italian scholar Giambattista della Porta (1535–1615), also known as John Baptiste Porta, had a divergent range of scientific interests, including medicine and botany. One of the books in his twenty-volume Natural Magick consisted of his experiments with plants and medicines. Long before Snow White’s evil stepmother delivered the questionable fruit, della Porta devised a sleeping apple made from opium poppy, mandrake, hemlock, and henbane rolled into a ball. He also warned that the combination of thorn apple seeds and deadly nightshade roots could cause madness.
Murky Roots of Toxicology
A discussion of kill-or-cure medicine wouldn’t be complete without mentioning Swiss physician and alchemist Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim (1493–1541) whose philosophy was that a little bit of something dangerous could be healing. Better known as Paracelsus, he adapted his persona from the highly acclaimed first-century Roman physician Aurelius Cornelius Celsus (c. 25 BCE–c. 50 CE), and then added the prefix para- so his name would mean “above Celsus.”6 He was not shy about grand self-promotion.
6. Hayes and Kobets, Hayes’ Principles and Methods of Toxicology, 13.
Paracelsus was influential in the development of chemistry as a science and is regarded as the founder of modern toxicology. Although he is sometimes attributed with creating the Doctrine of Signatures, the concept dates back to Greek scholar Theophrastus. However, in medieval Christian Europe, the Doctrine of Signatures was based on the belief that the shape, color, or patterns of a plant was God’s signature on it, which provided a hint on how it should be used. For example, because a walnut resembles the brain, it was thought to cure headaches.
Paracelsus and his later followers popularized the use of laudanum, a tincture of opium, to be used as a painkiller and sleeping aid. Strychnine arrived in Europe and Britain during the sixteenth century and was used medicinally without its cumulative effects being understood. An extract from the seed was known as strychnine and the powdered seeds were called nux vomica from the Latin meaning “vomiting nut,” which described its prevalent use. Purges from either end of the alimentary canal were popular cures, but also dangerous. Despite the risks, there was a persistent belief that a medicine with a foul taste and nasty effects made for a better cure. By the nineteenth century, strychnine held a prominent place as a remedy and not only as a laxative. American doctors prescribed small doses of it for breathing difficulties, labor pains, and even babies’ colic. But wait, it gets worse. Strychnine was also a component of many quack medicines, which usually contained a substantial amount of alcohol along with other hazardous botanicals such as opium and coca.
As scary as it seems, both quack and conventional remedies were more or less a game of botanical roulette. Nineteenth-century doctors on both sides of the pond seemed to be fascinated with poisonous plants and used them in small doses for a wide range of complaints. Aconite was popular with European and American doctors in the nineteenth century and was used for fevers, pneumonia, and laryngitis as well as a painkiller and diuretic. The use of poisonous plants, and poisonous substances in general, was an issue of debate amongst American doctors who prescribed hemlock for calming teething babies and enthusiastically promoted the use of belladonna. Belladonna was available as a bandage to dull pain and in a liniment for a range of ailments. Into the early 1920s, it was combined with aconite to treat a sore throat.
Medicine has come a long way since the early twentieth century with modern scientific techniques that aid in understanding how many toxins work.
While today’s materia medica is standardized and regulated to avoid killer doses, it still employs components from poisonous plants. These include the narcotic alkaloids of morphine and codeine from the opium poppy for pain relief, digoxin from foxglove for heart strength and rate, artemisinin from sweet wormwood for malaria, and ephedrine from ephedra to treat a range of conditions.
Through the centuries, poisonous plants were stock-in-trade medicines for some, but they were evidence of witchcraft for others. While the focus of the Inquisition in Europe was to root out and punish heresy, witchcraft became associated with devil worship and trafficking evil spirits, putting it dead center in the crosshairs of the Catholic Church.
“A plentiful compendium of poisonous plants and fungi! From murder mystery to medical history, to folklore and fatalities, Poisonous Plants and Fatal Fungi conveys the allure and intrigue of these powerful botanicals.”
—Coby Michael, author of The Poison Path Herbal and The Poison Path Grimoire
Beware the Bloom
Explore humanity’s fascination with death through toxic flora and how they have affected history, magic, warfare, art, and more. Sandra Kynes shares sixty detailed profiles divided into five themes, from classic killers to frightful fungi. Each profile includes the plant’s history, folklore, and medicinal uses, as well as how it may or may not be used today.
• Aconite • Birthwort • Buttercup • Daffodil • Deadly Nightshade • Death Cap • Ergot • Foxglove • Funeral Bell • Hemlock • Liberty Cap • Mandrake • Mistletoe • Oleander • Pokeweed • Poppy • Tobacco
Dispatching people with poisonous plants isn’t just an Agatha Christie plot— it began thousands of years ago and continues to this day. From Victorian serial novels to true crime television programs, we seem to have a penchant for ghoulishness. This book feeds our curiosity through detailed investigations of the murky roots of toxicology, witches and Indigenous healers, poisons in popular media, and much more. From datura to yew, deadly plants can attract you like a moth to a flame...but don’t get too close.
Sandra Kynes is the author of more than twenty books. She spent the early part of her life exploring the wonders of New York City while studying, working, and raising her son. She has since lived in Europe, England, and now Midcoast Maine where she resides with her family and cats in a mid-nineteenth century farmhouse surrounded by meadows and woods. Visit her website at www.kynes.net.
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