In the dead of the nightshade

ONE of the very earliest and truly earnest parental instructions I received as a small boy in rural Gloucestershire concerned the most dangerous plant to be found in the countryside, its leggy upward sprawl embracing garden and hedgerow shrubs, its black fruits perilously poisonous and never to be touched, let alone tasted. Its very name struck a chill: deadly nightshade. I still take half a step back when I encounter it. This was not village folklore—every part of the plant is toxic. Two berries can kill a small child, a dozen or so an adult. A single leaf can be fatal. It is one of the Solanaceae family and, although the Latin etymology is unclear, reflecting a preference for shade and the habit of night flowering, above all, it echoes centuries of dark history.

These plants were well known in the ancient world.