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. In war, Roman archers used the juice of the deadly nightshade to poison their arrows. In peace, it was a favoured means of assassination. Agrippina the Younger, mother of Nero, used it to get rid of her husband, Emperor Claudius; Livia, wife of Emperor Augustus, contrived widowhood by the same means.
The potential of its Mandragora relatives —native to the Mediterranean region and called (via the French main de gloire) mandrakes in this country, because the twin root looked rather similar to the human figure —was equally recognised, although they were usually employed for less sinister purposes. In the 4th century BC, the Greek botanist and philosopher Theophrastus recommended root extract for wounds, gout, sleeplessness and as a love potion. The plant was also associated with Dionysus, god of wine, and worshippers achieved drunken ecstasy with mandrake-infused wine.
Denne historien er fra September 07, 2022-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Denne historien er fra September 07, 2022-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
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Kitchen garden cook - Apples
'Sweet and crisp, apples are the epitome of autumn flavour'
The original Mr Rochester
Three classic houses in North Yorkshire have come to the market; the owner of one inspired Charlotte Brontë to write Jane Eyre
Get it write
Desks, once akin to instruments of torture for scribes, have become cherished repositories of memories and secrets. Matthew Dennison charts their evolution
'Sloes hath ben my food'
A possible paint for the Picts and a definite culprit in tea fraud, the cheek-suckingly sour sloe's spiritual home is indisputably in gin, says John Wright
Souvenirs of greatness
FOR many years, some large boxes have been stored and forgotten in the dark recesses of the garage. Unpacked last week, the contents turned out to be pots: some, perhaps, nearing a century old—dense terracotta, of interesting provenance.
Plants for plants' sake
The garden at Hergest Croft, Herefordshire The home of Edward Banks The Banks family is synonymous with an extraordinary collection of trees and shrubs, many of which are presents from distinguished friends, garnered over two centuries. Be prepared to be amazed, says Charles Quest-Ritson
Capturing the castle
Seventy years after Christian Dior’s last fashion show in Scotland, the brand returned under creative director Maria Grazia Chiuri for a celebratory event honouring local craftsmanship, the beauty of the land and the Auld Alliance, explains Kim Parker
Nature's own cathedral
Our tallest native tree 'most lovely of all', the stately beech creates a shaded environment that few plants can survive. John Lewis-Stempel ventures into the enchanted woods
All that money could buy
A new book explores the lost riches of London's grand houses. Its author, Steven Brindle, looks at the residences of plutocrats built by the nouveaux riches of the late-Victorian and Edwardian ages
In with the old
Diamonds are meant to sparkle in candlelight, but many now gather dust in jewellery boxes. To wear them today, we may need to reimagine them, as Hetty Lintell discovers with her grandmother's jewellery