The Woody Nightshade: A British Folk Song about a woman using an herb to poison her lover

Here are a few verses of "The Woody Nightshade," more popularly known as the "The Wild, Wild Berry," an English folk song about a man being poisoned by his sweetheart via the berries of the woody nightshade plant (Solanum dulcamara). Woody nightshade, also known as bittersweet, is native to Eurasia, but this plant has been introduced to North America/Turtle Island as well. In the summer and fall, the berries of the plant turn a bright red. Every part of the plant is toxic to humans, and consumption can cause vomiting, convulsions and death.

This folk song only has one source: It comes from the singing of Ray Driscoll in 1993. Driscoll was from Ireland but lived much of his life in London and Shropshire. He said he learned the song from an itinerant farm laborer named Harry Civil. You can find Driscoll’s version- and my full version as well- on YouTube! It's very probable that this English folk song is a purposeful adaptation of the ballad classically known as “Lord Randall,” in which a man is poisoned by his lover and proceeds to have a conversation with his mother (or sometimes, wife) about how he plans to will his estate.

There are many variants of this ballad, leading to Randall being poisoned by methods including berries, a dish of eels, or a dish of snakes! In all of the versions I know, including “Woody Nightshade,” the lover or wife who kills Randall is ultimately punished herself. I’m intrigued by how this song can give a sense of the woman’s voice, with the repeated phrase of “Lie low sweet Rando!”

Lyrics

Young man come from hunting faint and weary / “What doth ail my love, my dearie?” “Oh mother dear, let my bed be laid/ For I fear the gripe of the woody nightshade.”

Lie low sweet Rando, Rando low lie/ Come all young men that do eat full well They that sup quite merry / ‘Tis far better I entreat to have toads for your meat Then to eat of the wild, wild berry/ To eat of the wild, wild berry

This young man he died full soon/ By the light of the hunter’s moon. ‘Twas not by bone nor yet by blade/ But the deathly gripe of the woody nightshade

Lie low sweet Rando, Rando low lie/ Come all young men that do eat full well They that sup quite merry / ‘Tis far better I entreat to have toads for your meat Then to eat of the wild, wild berry/ To eat of the wild, wild berry