The First Witch: Pre-Accusation Magic

The quiet origins of the craft long before fear took the pen.

Before the word witch ever existed, there were women and men who listened more closely than others. Not to spirits, not to omens, not to imagined forces—but to the land, to the body, to the breath of the seasons. They lived in a world without clocks or electric noise, without the hum that keeps the modern mind distracted.

Everything they knew came from attention. Observation. Relationship.

Long before history weaponized the word, there were people who lived in the thin places—those soft thresholds where the ordinary meets the unseen. They didn’t call it magic. They didn’t call themselves witches. They didn’t need a name for the work at all. It was simply survival, responsibility, and care.

Yet these are the figures we now look back on and recognize as the earliest roots of the witch.

The Healer — Knowledge as Lifeline

Across ancient Europe and far beyond, almost every village had a healer. She was the herb-wife, the wise woman, the one you sought when a child’s fever climbed too high or a wound refused to close. Her knowledge wasn’t mystical—it was passed down through generations, stored in memory because paper was scarce and literacy rarer still.

Her craft was rooted in:

• the rhythm of seasons

• the behavior of plants

• the way the body responds to pain

• the ancient art of comfort

She knew which leaves soothed inflammation, which roots encouraged sleep, and which herbs opened the mind for dreaming. In a world without modern medicine, her work wasn’t optional. It was the difference between life and death.

This is pre-accusation magic. Not spells—just skill.

The Diviner — Pattern as Language

Every culture has its own form of divination, long before tarot cards and crystal balls entered the story.

The Etruscans read lightning.The Norse cast runes.The Greeks interpreted lots.Indigenous communities read dreams, bird movements, flow patterns in water.

The diviner didn’t see the future in some theatrical way. She understood patterns. She was the original intuitive analyst—studying behavior, weather, cycles, dreams, community tensions. These were data points before we had a word for data.

She wasn’t feared.She was consulted.

People trusted her ability to read what others overlooked.

The Midwife — Guardian of Thresholds

Birth was the most dangerous moment in a woman’s life. Before modern medicine, childbirth required a guide who could recognize danger quickly and respond with wisdom, steady hands, and deep instinct.

The midwife held power that men of the time often couldn’t understand. She carried:

• herbal knowledge

• ritual practices

• emotional steadiness

• community trust

• an understanding of the body's hidden language

Her work existed before religion claimed the realm of the sacred. In many communities, she wasn’t just a birth worker—she was a counselor, healer, grief-keeper, and quiet leader.

This is why midwives were among the first to be targeted when witch hysteria rose. Not because they were dangerous, but because they held authority outside of patriarchal control.

The Storykeeper — Memory as Magic

Not every early practitioner healed wounds or delivered babies. Some healed through story.

The storykeeper was the one who remembered—the village’s archive in human form. She held myth, lineage, omens, and cautionary tales. Her voice carried the weight of collective memory, reminding people what was sacred, what was dangerous, and what was worth preserving.

Story was survival.Story was truth.Story was how a culture passed on everything it couldn’t afford to lose.

In many traditions, the storykeeper and healer were the same person.In others, they were distinct—but equally vital to the community’s wellbeing.

They Were Never Witches. And Yet…

None of these people would have called themselves witches.Their communities didn’t call them witches.And yet, when we look at them through the distorted lens of later centuries, we recognize something familiar.

The healer.The diviner.The midwife.The storykeeper.

These are the archetypal bones beneath the modern witch.These roles are the roots modern practitioners feel humming beneath their ribs.When people say, “I feel like I’ve done this before,” this is the lineage their body remembers.

Not the spellcraft of grimoires.Not the tropes from Hollywood.Not the caricatures drawn by fear.

The original craft was community care, embodied intuition, and the kind of wisdom that comes from living close to the natural world.

What Changed?

These figures were trusted—until they weren’t.

When political power consolidated,when Christianity spread,when medicine moved into male-dominated institutions,when literacy became regulated,when women’s autonomy threatened the structures forming around them…

the roles of healer, midwife, diviner, and storykeeper became reinterpreted through fear.

The same knowledge that once saved lives was reframed as danger.The same stories that once grounded communities were called superstition.The same intuition that once guided survival was dismissed as delusion.The same authority midwives held was recast as heretical influence.

The earliest practitioners didn’t change.The world around them did.

Why This History Matters Now

Because many of us feel a pull toward these ancient roles without knowing why.Because intuitive knowing is resurfacing despite centuries of suppression.Because people are longing for grounded spirituality, community wisdom, and a slower, truer way of being.

Whether you identify as a witch or not isn’t the point.This is human history.This is lineage work.This is remembering the people who carried knowledge before knowledge was legal, respectable, or safe.

And this month, as we walk through the full timeline of witchcraft—from ancient practitioners to medieval cunning folk, to trials, to Hollywood distortions, to the modern reclamation—we begin where the story itself begins:

With the ones who listened.

With the ones who paid attention.

With the ones who kept the world alive when no one else knew how.

Before accusation.Before distortion.Before the word.

This is the first witch.This is Becoming.