(Photo from Alltrails)
- Stop for a picnic. Take a walk. Explore the trails. Enjoy one of the prettiest stretches of the Natchez Trace and another wonderfully strange piece of Mississippi folklore.
Some Mississippi place names are just too good to pass up.
Witch Dance is one of them.
Located along the Natchez Trace Parkway near milepost 233, Witch Dance sounds like somewhere you might want to avoid after dark. In reality, it is a beautiful recreation area surrounded by the Tombigbee National Forest, with picnic tables, trails, and plenty of Mississippi woods to explore.
But, of course, that name had to come from somewhere.
According to an old Mississippi legend, witches once gathered here to dance and perform rituals. The story says that wherever their feet touched the ground, the grass withered and died. Even stranger, it supposedly never grew back.
Is any of that true? Probably not.
But where is the fun in completely dismissing a good Mississippi legend?
The story has been passed down for generations, and visitors are still told to watch for bare patches of earth where the grass refuses to grow. Once you know the story, it’s nearly impossible to visit Witch Dance without looking.
And if you do happen to find one, well, make of it what you will.
The location makes the legend even better because the Natchez Trace has plenty of stories of its own. Long before the modern 444-mile parkway connected Natchez and Nashville, people had been traveling portions of this route for thousands of years.
Native Americans traveled it, followed later by explorers, traders, soldiers, and settlers. Andrew Jackson traveled the Trace. Unfortunately, so did thieves, robbers, and some downright terrible characters.
One of the most notorious was Micajah “Big” Harpe.
Big Harpe and his cousin Wiley “Little” Harpe terrorized parts of the early American frontier during the late 1700s, and somewhere along the way, Big Harpe became part of the Witch Dance legend.
According to the tale, Harpe once stopped in the area with a Native American guide who told him about the witches and warned him about the patches of ground where the grass would not grow.
Harpe apparently wasn’t worried about witches.
The story says he mocked the legend, jumped on the bare spots, and dared the witches to come after him.
Nothing happened that day.
Later, Harpe was killed in Kentucky, and this is where the story gets even stranger. One version of the legend claims a witch eventually got possession of his skull, ground it into powder, and used it in a healing potion.
You certainly can’t accuse Mississippi folklore of being dull.
Other stories have grown around Witch Dance through the years. Some people have claimed to hear strange laughter coming from the woods. Others tell of unusual noises after sunset. And some folks will tell you Witch Dance is not somewhere they would choose to hang around after dark.
During the daytime, however, it is much less sinister.
Witch Dance has two shaded picnic areas. One is near the horse-trailer parking area, and another is farther up the road where horses are not allowed. The upper area has nine picnic tables and grills spread around a paved loop, including an accessible picnic spot. Restrooms and parking for cars and RVs are also available.
The area is especially popular with horseback riders and hikers. Two nearby trailheads lead into the Tombigbee National Forest, connecting with miles of loops and crossover trails maintained by the U.S. Forest Service.
That makes Witch Dance worth a stop even if you don’t believe a single word about witches.
But the legend certainly makes things more interesting.
There is something fun about visiting a place you have heard stories about your entire life and seeing it for yourself. Mississippi has plenty of those places. Sometimes the history is well documented. Sometimes the story has been told so many times that nobody really knows where the truth ends and the legend begins.
Witch Dance falls somewhere in that second category.
So, stop for a picnic. Take a walk. Explore the trails. Enjoy one of the prettiest stretches of the Natchez Trace and another wonderfully strange piece of Mississippi folklore.
And while you’re there, you might want to look down every once in a while.
If you find a patch where the grass won’t grow, I wouldn’t worry too much.
Although, just to be safe, I probably wouldn’t stomp on it and dare the witches to come out, either.
Meredith Biesinger
