Category: Just for Fun

Henbane, belladonna, hemlock, mandrake, yew – ingredients for a witch’s potion? Or plot devices in a Shakespeare play? 

Why not both? 

Just like modern crime writers study ballistics and crime scene procedure, Shakespeare studied botany at a near-expert level (or at least we can assume he did, based on the knowledge displayed in his portfolio). Shakespeare scholar Edward Tabor even speculates that the bard not only read the herbals of the time but possibly knew John Gerarde, a leading Elizabethan botanist who lived across the street during Shakespeare’s time in London (pg. 82). 

As Tabor documents, many of Shakespeare’s plots culminate around plant poisons: Romeo and Juliet’s dual suicide, the death of Hamlet’s father, the witch’s potion in Macbeth, and so on. 

Many of these plants had both positive and negative applications in the renaissance world: as anesthetic, aphrodisiacs, psychedelic, and poison. But have these classic botanicals passed out of modern use? Or do they continue in some form, quacky or otherwise? 

In this article, we’ll be looking at the role of plants in Shakespeare and whether they – or their derivatives – have found any home in modern medicine.

Henbane [Hyoscyamus niger]

One night out on the parapet, Hamlet – literature’s first mopey grad student and the son of the recently deceased king – is visited by his father’s ghost and learns of his fratricidal uncle Claudius, who supposedly poured henbane/hebenon in the dead king’s ear. And while Hamlet never questions how his dad attained this knowledge while sound asleep, he questions most everything else as he investigates literature’s most famous poisoning. 

In antiquity, henbane was used as a sedative, containing the narcotic alkaloids scopolamine and hyoscyamine (USDA, The Powerful Solanaceae: Henbane). Shakespeare’s contemporaries understood henbane’s analgesic properties but also its lethality; botanist John Gerarde reports henbane delivering a “sleep deadlie (sic) to the party” (Tabor, 1970, pg. 88). Used also as a hallucinogen, henbane has long been associated with witches because it can induce sense of flight (USDA) and visions of “insane marvels” (Tabor, pg. 88). 

The Garden Poppy [Papaver Somniferum]

In order to scheme the murder of king Duncan, Lady Macbeth spikes his servants ale, possibly (as some scholars speculate) with the humble poppy seed (Tabor, pg. 86). Known as a soporific, Langham (a contemporary botanist of Shakespeare) reports a recipe for crushing poppy seeds into a drowsy syrup (ibid): seeds that contain morphine and codeine, two powerful opiates, which “remain in the liquid when the seeds are removed” (Mayo Clinic). Such a poppy-derived "drowsy syrup" is referenced by Iago in Othello (Act III, Scene 3, 330). Elizabethans it seems, like the modern rapper, could claim to have “codeine in their cups.” 

Opium has played such an outsized role in history that prolonged comment is not needed. From the romantic poets and their Xanadus of earthly delight to Sherlock Holmes slumming in the opium dens, poppy has been used (and frequently abused) to relieve pain and achieve altered states of consciousness throughout recorded history.

The Wild Pansy [Viola Tricolor]

An essential ingredient to the plot of A Midsummer Night's Dream, the wild pansy (which supposedly, when applied topically could induce a libidinous frenzy) is used by Oberon, king of the Fairies, to mess with his estranged wife Titania. But of course, hijinks ensue.

While the pansy's many names reflect its folk-aphrodisiac status – names such as heartsease, love in idleness, or johnny jump up (MedicineNet, Heart's Ease) – the Elizabethan herbals do not report any lust-inducing associations with the plant, only its anti-syphilitic properties (Tabor, pg. 84), which, at least by the next century would have been much appreciated.

Shakespeare, therefore, was working within 16th century folk traditions rather than medical knowledge, but this is understandable, considering that Gerarde and Langham's herbals are filled with aphrodisiacs. Consider the innocent sweet potato, which was known to "procure bodily lust with greedinesse (sic) (Tabor, pg. 83). Candied fruits, like dates, were especially potent when "prepared by cunning confectioners" (ibid). The cotton seed was thought to "increase naturall seede (sic)" and, according to Gerarde, were much in use (ibid).

Love potions have been the staple of fairy tales, and while not a poison in the strictest sense, a classic of witch's brews as well. While the tragedies use poisons in their advance towards death, the comedies use herbs in their march towards love. Both show a sustained human interest in wielding substances towards our desired end state.

Mandrake [Solanaceae]

While less plot-important than the other list-items, mandrake played a central role in medieval and ancient herbology and appears frequently in Shakespeare. A narcotic and soporific, Cleopatra requests mandragora to let her sleep through her lovesickness. Iago also mentions the soporific quality of the mandrake root in the same breath as opium (Othello, Act III, Scene 3, 330). And Juliet demonstrates Shakespeare's awareness of the common mythology, comparing her distress to the mandrake, which could only be uprooted in moonlight, lest its shrieks drive insanity (USDA, Mandrake).

Like henbane, mandrake had many uses, including as a hallucinogen.

Wolfsbane [Aconitum variegatum]

After investigating king Hamlet's poisoning, well, lots of stuff happens, and everyone dies. In this case, Hamlet duels his rival Laertes, who happens to have poisoned his sword. A poison begins the plot, and a poison ends it.

While Laertes does not specify the poison, the leading contender is wolfsbane or aconite (derived from wolfsbane). Elizabethans knew of aconite's poisonous potential, specifically as an arrow poison; Gerarde records swelling, madness, and death within the half hour from introduction (Tabor, pg. 89). Presumably, the plant garners its folk-appellation from its ability to ward off wolves and werewolves (National Poison Control Center, Aconitum napellus (Monkshood): A Purple Poison). The National Poison Control Center reports modern cases of aconite poisoning, some worthy of a true-crime drama.

Did Aconite Make It?
No. While aconite can be detoxified and purchased in herbal shops, it's also "responsible for the majority of serious poisonings from Chinese herbal preparations" (National Poison Control Center). Information about herbal use can be found here.

References:

May, M. (N.D.). Aconitum napellus (Monkshood): A Purple Poison. National Capital Poison Center. https://www.poison.org/articles/why-is-monkshood-considered-a-poison--174

Khan, S. (2024). Heartsease. MedicineNet. https://www.medicinenet.com/heartsease/article.htm

Lai, B. (2024). Poppy seed tea: Beneficial or dangerous? Mayo Clinic. https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/drug-addiction/expert-answers/poppy-seed-tea/faq-20559907

The Powerful Solanaceae: Henbane. (N.D.). United States Department of Agriculture. https://www.fs.usda.gov/wildflowers/ethnobotany/Mind_and_Spirit/henbane.shtml#:~:text=The%20pale%20yellow%2C%20bell%2Dshaped,carelessly%20used%2C%20even%20by%20herbalists.

The Powerful Solanaceae: Mandrake. (N.D.). United States Department of Agriculture. https://www.fs.usda.gov/wildflowers/ethnobotany/Mind_and_Spirit/mandrake.shtml

Shakespeare, W. (1597). Romeo and Juliet. Folger Shakespeare Company. https://www.folger.edu/whats-on/romeo-and-juliet/

Shakespeare, W. (1604). Hamlet. Folger Shakespeare Company. https://www.folger.edu/explore/shakespeares-works/hamlet/read/.

Shakespeare, W. (1622). Othello. Folger Shakespeare Company. https://www.folger.edu/explore/shakespeares-works/othello/read/

Shakespeare, W. (1623). Anthony and Cleopatra. Folger Shakespeare Company. https://www.folger.edu/explore/shakespeares-works/antony-and-cleopatra/

Shakespeare, W. (1623). Macbeth. Folger Shakespeare Company. https://www.folger.edu/explore/shakespeares-works/macbeth/read/.

Shakespeare, W. (1623). A Midsummer Night's Dream. Folger Shakespeare Company. https://www.folger.edu/explore/shakespeares-works/a-midsummer-nights-dream/

Riad, M. Hithe, C. (2023). Scopolamine. National Library of Medicine. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK554397/#:~:text=Scopolamine%20is%20a%20medication%20used,the%20anticholinergic%20class%20of%20drugs

Tabor, Edward. (1970). Plant Poisons in Shakespeare. Economic Botany 24 (1), pp. 81-94. https://www.jstor.org/stable/4253115.

Did you know that several medical terms find their etymological origins in classic literature? Let this list inspire your next read!

First up, we have Pickwickian syndrome, which gets its name from Charles Dickens’ novel The Pickwick Papers. Officially called “obesity hypoventilation syndrome,” Pickwickian syndrome is defined as the combination of a high body mass index, high levels of carbon dioxide in the blood, and disordered breathing during sleep (Masa et al., 2019). Despite its name, Pickwickian syndrome refers not to main character Samuel Pickwick, but rather to the supporting character Joe, whose main personality traits are eating a lot of food and falling asleep constantly. The term Pickwickian syndrome originated in a 1956 case report in the American Journal of Medicine.

Next, there are several psychological conditions that bring to mind the experiences of literary characters. You might have heard of Alice in Wonderland syndrome, in which the patient has distorted perceptions of the size and shape of their body (Blom, 2016). The term was first coined by John Todd in 1955 in reference to the growing and shrinking Alice experiences when she consumes magical treats in Lewis Carroll’s classic Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.

Another term taken from children’s literature is Peter Pan syndrome. This is an unofficial diagnosis, not recognized in the DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual). It refers to adults who are socially immature and have trouble facing adult responsibilities. They wish that they would never have to grow up, like the eternally young Peter Pan from J. M. Barrie’s stories. Dan Kiley coined the term in his bestselling 1983 book The Peter Pan Syndrome: Men Who Have Never Grown Up.

Of course, the great playwright William Shakespeare makes an appearance on this list. Othello syndrome describes a paranoid delusional jealousy in which the patient becomes certain that their partner is cheating on them (Kataoka & Sugie, 2018). In Shakespeare’s play Othello, the antagonist Iago uses trickery to convince Othello of his wife Desdemona’s infidelity, leading to tragic consequences.

Our last entry is a bit different, but interesting enough to merit inclusion on this list. Doctors might complain about a patient by calling them a gomer. A gomer is someone who is frequently admitted to the emergency room but does not actually require medical care, or more broadly, as the Oxford English Dictionary defines it, “a difficult or disagreeable patient, esp. an elderly one.” Although the definitive origin is unclear, Samuel Shem popularized the term in his 1978 novel The House of God, in which he states that the word is an acronym of “Get Out of My Emergency Room.” Shem was a practicing psychiatrist, and his novel is about the disturbing experiences of a group of interns at a fictionalized version of Boston’s Beth Israel Hospital. 

So what will you be reading next? 

References

1. Bickelmann, A. G., Burwell, C. S., Robin, E. D., & Whaley, R. D. (1956). Extreme obesity associated with alveolar hypoventilation; a Pickwickian syndrome. The American journal of medicine, 21(5), 811–818. https://doi.org/10.1016/0002-9343(56)90094-8
2. Blom J. D. (2016). Alice in Wonderland syndrome: A systematic review. Neurology clinical practice, 6(3), 259–270. https://doi.org/10.1212/CPJ.0000000000000251 
3. “Gomer, N. (3).” Oxford English Dictionary, Oxford UP, December 2023, https://doi.org/10.1093/OED/9986910637 
4. Kataoka, H., & Sugie, K. (2018). Delusional Jealousy (Othello Syndrome) in 67 Patients with Parkinson's Disease. Frontiers in neurology, 9, 129. https://doi.org/10.3389/fneur.2018.00129 
5. Masa, J. F., Pépin, J. L., Borel, J. C., Mokhlesi, B., Murphy, P. B., & Sánchez-Quiroga, M. Á. (2019). Obesity hypoventilation syndrome. European respiratory review: an official journal of the European Respiratory Society, 28(151), 180097. https://doi.org/10.1183/16000617.0097-2018
6. Todd J. (1955). The syndrome of Alice in Wonderland. Canadian Medical Association Journal, 73(9), 701–704.