An ABC of Witchcraft Past and Present - Doreen Valiente 2018

Mandrake

So many strange legends have gathered about the mandrake root that people often doubt whether such a plant actually exists. It is, however, a genuine inhabitant of the vegetable kingdom; specimens of very curious mandrake roots may sometimes be seen in museums.

The true mandrake, Atropa mandragora, belongs to the Solanaceae, that order of plants which has contributed so much to witchcraft and sorcery. Among the Solanaceae also are the henbane, the deadly nightshade and the thornapple, all plants of sinister reputation.

The mandrake was believed by sorcerers of the Middle Ages to be a kind of half-way creature between the vegetable and the human kind. Its leaves shone by night with a baleful glow. Its flowers and fruits gave forth a narcotic, stupefying scent. Its root was in the shape of a tiny human figure, an homunculus, alive with a weird and devilish life of its own—ready to become the familiar of the daring mortal who could possess himself of it.

This enterprise, however, was fraught with peril; because the mandrake, on being torn from the earth, gave forth such a fearful and deadly cry that he who heard it would either go mad or fall dead upon the spot.

Accordingly, the sorcerer who wished to possess himself of a mandrake had to follow a curious ritual. Having found the plant, which usually grew at the foot of a gibbet, upon which the remains of an executed criminal hung, the operator had to go there at sunset.

By the light of the dying sun’s last rays, he must draw three circles round the mandrake with his magical sword; but he must first have taken the precaution of stopping his ears with wax, so that he could not hear the mandrake’s cry; and he must be sure that the wind was not blowing in his face, or he would be overcome by the narcotic odour of the plant.

He would have brought with him a hungry dog, and some tempting meat, with which the dog could be enticed. He was also to be armed with an ivory staff, wherewith he was to loosen the earth carefully around the mandrake root. Then he had to tie the unfortunate dog securely to the root, retire to a distance, and show the dog the food. The dog would leap at the meat, and thus pull the mandrake from the earth; and the dog, it was believed, would die on the spot.

MANDRAKE. Strangely-shaped roots, reproduced from old prints which declared them to be genuine.

As an extra precaution, the operator was advised to blow loudly upon a horn, as soon as he saw the plant begin to lift from the earth, to drown its hideous scream as much as possible.

Then the sorcerer, having taken up the fearful plant, and wrapped it in a white linen cloth, could hurry away with his prize through the shadows of the gathering darkness.

Fantastic as it may sound, some of these old beliefs about the mandrake are based upon fact. The plant does have a large, fleshy root, which bears a rough resemblance to the human form. It does have a strange scent, which some find pleasant and some much the reverse; and it certainly has narcotic properties. In fact, the mandrake is probably man’s oldest anaesthetic.

In the very early days of surgery, it was used to put patients into a deep drugged sleep, during which operations could be performed on them. The root was steeped or boiled in wine, and a little of this given to the patient to drink; but primitive surgeons had to be careful with the dose, as too much would cause a sleep from which there was no waking. Sometimes the mandrake was combined with other narcotics, and used to impregnate a sponge, which could be applied to the patient’s nostrils until he fell asleep; thus probably giving a lighter state of somnolence than when taken internally.

Perhaps strangest of all, the belief that the mandrake shines at night has a basis of fact. For some reason, its leaves are attractive to glow-worms, and it is these little creatures, whose greenish luminescence is quite remarkable, that make it glow in the darkness. Anyone who did not know this could certainly be startled by the plant’s appearance after dark, and think the old legends about its devilish powers might be true. It is from this circumstance that the mandrake gets its name of ’the Devil’s candle’.

Even the story about the mandrake screaming as it is pulled from the earth could have at least a grain of truth in it, from which the legend has grown. Plants with large fleshy roots usually grow in damp places; and when pulled slowly from the earth, they are quite likely to make a squeaking sound. The timid mandrake-seeker would have waited for no more than the first squeak!

Of course, all the horrific details of the mandrake legend were kept alive by those who had mandrakes for sale. People paid high prices for a good, life-like mandrake, and valued it highly as a talisman. It was believed to bring luck to its owner in all departments of life, but especially in matters of love and fertility. This latter belief was general throughout the ancient world, as the story in the Bible about Rachel, Leah and the mandrakes shows; and it has persisted right down to the present day. Whole mandrakes are sometimes offered for sale, imported into this country, at high prices; and some occult herbalists sell pieces of mandrake root for people to carry as lucky charms.

To possess a mandrake which housed a familiar spirit, was one of the practices of witches in old-time Europe. In 1603 a woman was hanged as a witch at Romorantin near Orleans, for the alleged crime of keeping a familiar spirit in the form of a mandrake. She was the wife of a Moor, and had probably obtained the root from the Middle East, where the drying and shaping of mandrake roots was carried on almost as a profession by some specialists in the art.

When Joan of Arc was tried as a witch, one of the accusations brought against her was that she had a mandrake, which she carried in her bosom as a familiar; but she denied this. In 1630, three women were executed in Hamburg, accused of witchcraft and possessing mandrakes.

One of the ways in which the mandrake familiar was used, was for the witch to put it under her pillow at night, so that the spirit of the mandrake might instruct her in dreams. The mandrake had various other names by which it was known: ’the earth-mannikin’, ’the little gallows-man’ (alluding to its being found beneath the gibbet), or the ’alraun’. This word seems originally to have meant a witch, and eventually changed its implication to mean a witch’s familiar. It was especially used in Germany, where the ’alraun’ was a prized possession, handed down very secretly as a family heirloom. It had to be kept in a box, wrapped up in silk, and bathed four times a year, probably in wine or brandy. The liquid which had served to bathe it would have magical virtues, and might be sprinkled round the house to bring good luck, using a sprinkler of fragrant herbs.

The true mandrake, Atropa mandragora, is not indigenous to Britain, but grows in the warmer countries around the Mediterranean Sea and in the Near East. However, the wonders and virtues of the mandrake are extolled in old English herbals dating from the eleventh century, so it may have been imported. In the time of Henry VIII, roots purporting to be mandrakes were being sold in boxes for magical purposes.

Francis Bacon alludes in his works to witchcraft and the mandrake: “Some plants there are, but rare, that have a mossie or downie root and likewise that have a number of threads like beards as mandrakes, whereof witches and impostours make an ugly image, giving it the form of a face at the top of the root, and these strings to make a beard down to the foot.”

Poor country witches in Britain, who could not afford or obtain the true mandrake root, made use of the roots of white and black briony, two hedgerow plants which have very big fleshy roots. Hence these plants have come to be called English mandrake. (In the United States, a medicinal plant called Podophyllum peltatum is known as American mandrake; but it is quite a different plant from any of the above.)

The early herbalists, Gerarde, Parkinson and Turner, denounced the lifelike mandrake mannikins as being a counterfeit, produced by art rather than Nature, to get money out of credulous people. An old book called A Thousand Notable Things (by Thomas Lupton; first published London, 1579, many subsequent editions) tells in quaint language how it was done:

Take the great double root of briony newly taken out of the ground, and with a fine sharp knife, frame the shape of a man or woman (the woman-drake of our rustics), with his stones and cods and other members thereto, and when it is clean done, prick all these places with a sharp steel, as the head, the eyebrows, the chin and privities, and put into the said holes the seeds of millet or any other that brings forth small roots that do resemble hairs (which leek seed will do very well, or else barley). After this, put it into the ground and let it be covered with earth until it hath gotten upon it a certain little skin, and then thou shalt see a monstrous idol and hairy, which will become the parts if it be workmanlike or cunningly made or figured.

To assume, however, that the only reason for “witches and impostours” to do this was to impose upon the credulous, would be incorrect. Some people sold these things at a profit, certainly; but witches made a mandrake to house a familiar spirit, giving an elemental an effigy in which it might take up its dwelling, if the work was performed with proper ceremony. The virtue of using a root for this purpose, was that the root had life in it, and this living essence would help towards the ends required.

The right time to dig up the briony root was on the night of the full moon. Then the necessary shaping, etc., was done, and the root reburied until the next full moon, by which time the skin would have grown over it again, so that it looked natural. The straggling threads of ’hair’ were trimmed, and the root was carefully and slowly dried; usually over a fire upon which the magical herb vervain was burned, to bathe the mandrake in its smoke. Some, however, dried the mandrake in a bath of hot sand, the Balneum Arenae of the alchemists; and this operation bore some resemblance to the legendary making of a homunculus, or artificial man. Indeed it may have been the origin of the legend.

Once the mandrake was dried, it was wrapped in a white silk cloth, and kept in a box. Sometimes the mandrake was dressed in a little red cloak, embroidered with magical figures; red being the colour of life. Then, on some propitious night, such as that of one of the Great Sabbats, the mandrake would be formally consecrated, and a helpful spirit invited to take up its abode in the figure, and ensoul it.

This may account for some of the old stories of the Devil giving familiar spirits to witches. What he really gave them was either a small living creature, which would sometimes be possessed by a spirit, or else something like the mandrake, which a spirit could ensoul.