Curious what plants were well-known by the 17th-century Massachusetts Bay colonists, I delved into Michael Brown’s new book, Medieval Plants and Their Uses. Planting and harvesting were essential to the survival of communities. Besides food and medicinal purposes, though, could plants have been involved in the Salem witch trials? After all, one widely debunked hypothesis claimed ergot poisoning could have caused the witch hunt.

According to Brown, during wet weather a parasite caused fungus to grow on rye. Since grains were processed at the local mill, ergot poisoning could spread far and wide. Ergot-related mass casualties occurred in continental Europe but notably not in England, where wheat was the popular grain.

Also known as St. Anthony’s Fire, ergot poisoning could cause “hallucinations, convulsions, erratic behavior, or gangrene; death was common.” While some of these symptoms were apparent in the Salem courthouse in 1692, their underlying causes could be many different health issues. Plus, not every local household or family member displayed symptoms—which would happen if they shared bread—so it’s unlikely that ergot poisoning was a cause of the witch-hunt.

Planting the colony

From the start of the Great Migration, ships came from England with plant cuttings and seeds to grow crops and herbs for food, flavorings, and medicines. Recipes were passed down and shared, like making tansy tea for worms; using vinegar, salt, and honey for cleaning and sterilizing a wound; and eating dandelions to encourage urine flow.

Living on Will’s Hill, the tightknit Wilkins clan may not have been privy to the diuretic dandelion remedy. Patriarch Bray Wilkins reported “my water was sodainly stopt, & I had no benefit of nature, but was like a man on a rack” and accused his grandson-in-law John Willard—an outsider—of causing his bladder issue and his grandson Daniel Wilkins’ death. When a “skillful” woman’s remedies didn’t work, she asked Bray if any “evil persons” did him damage. He said he was “sore afraid they had.” Afflicted accuser Mercy Lewis even said she saw John Willard on his grandfather Bray’s belly. Bray later claimed it was not him “but the testimony of the afflicted persons and the jury … that would take away [John Willard’s] life if any thing did, & within about 1/4 hour after this I was taken in the sorest distress & misery my water being turned into real blood, or of a bloody colour & the old pain returned excessively as before which continued for about 24 hours together” (RSWH 528). It’s clear Bray’s urine retention was a real illness, such as an enlarged prostate, and not a witch’s curse. Yet John Willard was executed for witchcraft on 19 August 1692.

Brown also covers plants with religious associations and magical powers. For instance, Rev. John Hale could have put calendula under his pillow to reveal in dreams that Dorcas Hoar was stealing from him. Saint John’s wort could have expelled the demons from Rev. Samuel Parris’ home while mugwort could have kept ghosts and evil spirits away.

Besides offering insight into historic diets and medical remedies, this book covers common, everyday usage of plants for housekeeping, laundry, animal health care, beauty treatments, and even aphrodisiacs. Well illustrated with photos, Medieval Plants and Their Uses concludes with a few original medieval recipes, a list of plants (their medical and/or practical uses, name variants), and suggested reading.

Brown provides an accessible and fascinating insight into the uses of medieval plants.

Prerelease book provided by NetGalley and Pen & Sword Books Ltd. for review consideration.