The sorcery practised so largely in the Middle Ages must have

frequently developed into poisoning. The philtres were to a large

extent the same as those which the Romans had used. Opium, belladonna,

datura, _Cannabis Indica_, and arsenic were capable of producing

astonishing effects, and there was but little chance of detection

except the chance which was just as likely to result in the conviction

of an innocent as a guilty person. Poisons, or at least the terror

of them, played a considerable part in the history of Italy in

the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and the country acquired

the nickname of Venenosa Italia. Even earlier the famous Venetian

“Council of Ten” was believed to have made a systematic business

of assassination by poison. It employed experts and had a regular

tariff--so much for a king, so much for a duke and downwards, which

was allowed, plus expenses. The crime having been accomplished, the

books of the Council recorded the fee, and the single word “factum” was

added. The Medicis and the Borgias, and other of the great aristocrats

of the nation are supposed to have kept skilled poisoners in their

pay. Giambaptista Porta, Mercurialis, and other scientific men wrote

treatises on toxicology as it was understood at the period, coloured

with exaggerated fancies such as would impress the common public, and

tempt the criminally inclined. Porta, for example, describes the “magic

unction” which witches were believed to employ. It was this which

gave them power to fly through the air. He attributes this virtue to

belladonna. With dulcamara they made a drugged cheese which they gave

to travellers, and which had the effect of inducing the victims to

fancy themselves beasts of burden. In this condition the adepts could

set them to any work they wanted done, and, this performed, they gave

them an antidote which restored them to their proper senses.

CREDULITY IN REGARD TO POISONS.

Terror of poisons became epidemic in many countries, and eager

credulity welcomed any alleged antidote. Ambrose Paré relates an

incident in which he was an actor. He, a Protestant, was principal

physician to Charles IX, the wretched author of the Massacre of St.

Bartholomew. His story of the experiment which that king had made

with a bezoar stone is related on page 18. There was also an Archduke

Ferdinand of Austria who in the same century invented an antidote to

poisons. It was composed of sapphire, hyacinth, emerald, ruby, and

garnet. He also, according to Matthiolus, tried an experiment similar

to the one narrated by Paré. A Bohemian, condemned to be hanged,

was given 2 grains of arsenic. In four hours he had become livid,

prostrate, and apparently dying. He was given a dose of Ferdinand’s

powder in a glass of white wine, and recovered. Matthiolus also states

that Pope Clement VII made such experiments on condemned criminals.

In the reign of Henry VIII of England in 1530 an Act was passed making

the crime of poisoning punishable by boiling alive. This was enacted

in consequence of several deaths believed to have been due to poisons

which had occurred in the household of the Bishop of Rochester. In 1542

it is recorded in the chronicles of the time that a young woman named

Margaret Davie was “boyled alive in Smithfield” for having poisoned

persons in three houses in which she had lived. The savage punishment

was reduced to hanging in 1547 in the reign of Edward VI. In Queen

Elizabeth’s reign in 1598 two men were hanged on a charge of having

placed poison in her saddle.

Italian poisoners are alleged to have found abundant employment in

France. Catherine de Medici took with her to Paris her astrologer,

Cosmo Ruggieri, and the people believed that he was responsible for

the death of Charles IX. The ambitious queen has found many defenders,

but the fiend capable of planning the massacre of St. Bartholomew may

support a few extra crimes. Exili went to Paris in the next century

with the reputation of having poisoned 150 persons in Rome. Michelet

says this miscreant had been in the employment of Marie Olympia, Queen

of Rome under Innocent X, and implies that it was on her account that

he exercised his chemical skill. He had also been in the service of

Queen Christina of Sweden, but this employment was apparently not a

criminal one. The latter queen had only engaged Exili to instruct her

in alchemy. It was from this teacher that the famous poisoners of

Paris were alleged to have learned their arts. It is not possible,

however, to ascertain the limits of exaggeration in the accounts which

gossiping chroniclers give of that epoch. Royal edicts were issued

forbidding “all sorts of sorcery or magic, divinations, philtres,

invocations of demons, drinks to win love, enchantments to trouble the

air or excite hail or tempests, to destroy the fruits of the earth or

the milk of beasts, mathematics [which meant astrology], auguries, and

interpretations of dreams.” But though the practice of the “diabolic

arts” was punishable by death, it flourished abundantly, but it is not

necessary to accept the estimate of a diarist named L’Estoile, who,

describing the execution of a witch named La Miraille in 1587, stated

that the number of such persons in Paris at that date exceeded thirty

thousand.

Perfumery and the publication of almanacks were businesses which

covered many of the malfeasances struck at in the edict just quoted,

and no doubt there was a widespread belief in the miraculous

toxicological skill of the fortune tellers, who naturally wished their

predictions to be verified. “Tasters” were employed in the houses of

the wealthy, dishes of “electron” which it was believed would tarnish

if poisons were placed on them, and Venetian glass, which was warranted

to fly into atoms if the wine poured into it had been contaminated,

were in frequent use. As Rogers has written

Brave men trembled if a hand held out

A nosegay or a letter, while the great

Drank only from the Venice glass that broke,

That shivered, scattering round it as in scorn

If aught malignant, aught of thine was there,

Cruel Tophana.

But probably nine-tenths of the crimes suspected were the mere result

of the disordered fancies of the age. Knowing as we do on what

frivolous evidence women were condemned as witches, it is permissible

to be sceptical in regard to the testimony received by the frightened

judges when one of these notorious criminals came before them. Nor are

the alleged confessions of the women themselves necessarily conclusive.

The so-called witches often supplied details of their negotiations

with Satan, and of their Sabbatic excursions; and hysterical women in

all ages have been addicted to the relation of fictitious narratives

circumstantially describing both their vicious and their virtuous

exploits. The rapid putrefaction of a corpse was considered to be

sufficient evidence that the cause of death had been poison, though it

is likely that the poisons then in use would have tended to preserve

the body.

THE MARCHIONESS OF BRINVILLIERS

was one of the most interesting of the historic poisoners. She was the

daughter of the civil lieutenant of Paris, Dreux d’Aubray, and her

career as a criminal coincides with the early years of Louis XIV’s

reign. She is described as elegant, “petite,” sweet in her disposition,

and modest in her demeanour. According to her own confessions, produced

at her trial, sometimes admitted, and sometimes denied by her (and

characterised by Michelet as confused and impossible, and probably

composed under the influence of fever), she commenced her career

of crime at the age of 7 years by incestuous intercourse with her

brother. She accused herself also of arson. She married the Marquis de

Brinvilliers when she was about 20, and after helping him to dissipate

their joint fortune, she obtained an order of separation as far as

property was concerned, but continued to live with him as well as with

his intimate friend, a sinister person who called himself Ste. Croix,

and professed to have been a cavalry officer. His real name was Godin,

and Michelet, who investigated all the court documents dealing with the

case, makes him apparently the agent, and ultimately the victim, of an

arch-fiend of the name of Penautier, a cleric who at least profited

largely by the sudden deaths of various persons. He describes Ste.

Croix as a person of austere manners and as the author of some ascetic

books. Penautier was never formally accused, and it is not easy to

disentangle the intrigues associated with the case. Whatever these may

have been, Madame’s father, disgusted with the scandal created, got

Ste. Croix placed in the Bastille. There it is alleged he met with the

notorious Italian poisoner, Exili, and learned from him a number of

poison secrets, though it is doubtful if the art was a new one to him.

Perhaps Penautier got him released; anyhow he went in to the Bastille

poor, and came out rich. He married and set up a fine establishment.

But he still continued his liaison with the marchioness. During his

imprisonment that lady had occupied herself in visiting and consoling

patients in the hospitals. Now, according to the usual story, she

made use of them by giving them poisoned confectionery, and watching

the effects, merely for practice. Then she began to dose her father.

His illness lasted eight months, his murderess nursing him tenderly

meanwhile. Two brothers were also victims, and then she planned the

death of her husband, but according to Mme. de Sévigné her accomplice,

Ste. Croix, saved him by providing an antidote. The marquis lived to

see his wife punished, but was one of those who exerted himself to

get a pardon for her. Ste. Croix next died suddenly, in consequence,

it is said, of his accidentally dropping a glass mask which he wore

when compounding his poisons. This story, says Michelet, is a fable.

A case of poisons in packets was found in his rooms, each neatly

labelled with its effects. These, it was alleged, were addressed to the

marchioness, who managed to escape to England, Penautier giving her

letters of credit, says Michelet. Michelet says the packets of poison

were addressed to Penautier. The marchioness was soon after taken at

a convent at Liège by a detective who, pretending to be an Abbé, made

love to her and induced her to go for a walk with him, when lie handed

her over to his men, who took her to Paris. She was tortured (only

formally, says Michelet), convicted, marched to Notre Dame with a rope

round her neck to make the “amende honorable,” then decapitated, and

her body burned.

One of the witnesses at her trial declared that the marchioness once

showed her a little box containing some white stuff, and said there

were a number of successions in that little parcel. The witness said

she was the daughter of an apothecary and recognised that the substance

shown her was sublimate.

It has been discussed by experts whether the poison on which Ste.

Croix and his mistress chiefly relied was arsenic or sublimate. Most

likely it was arsenic. A certain Guy Simon, an apothecary, was employed

to experiment with it, and to discover its composition if possible.

His report is worth quoting at some length as an illustration of the

condition of toxicological science at that period, and incidentally of

the simple faith in the almost miraculous powers of the poisoners which

evidently possessed all classes at that time.

According to Chapuis (“Traité de Toxicologie”), Simon at first dropped

a little of the liquor in the phials on oil of tartar and sea water,

but nothing was precipitated. Then he digested some of it in a mattrass

on a sand-bath, but on distilling it no substance of acid or acrid

taste was yielded, and no fixed salts were left. Having poisoned a

pigeon, a dog, and a fowl with the liquid, he could only discover on

opening the dead bodies a little clotted blood in the ventricule of the

heart. Some of the powder deposited by the liquid was given to a cat

which vomited for half an hour and then died.

Simon explains that poisons generally sink to the bottom of water, and

when tested by fire the innocent part is dissipated and only the acrid

and piquant principle remains. But this poison of Ste. Croix’s, floated

on water, and tried by fire, left only something sweet and innocent.

It in fact ruled the elements, and killed animals without leaving

any trace. Utterly baffled, the expert concludes: “It is a terrible,

diabolic, intangible (_insaissable_) poison.”

TOFANA.

About the same time the woman Tofana was selling her Aquetta di

Napoli in Italy, but she was not brought to justice until 1709,

when she confessed to the Pope and the Emperor Charles VI that her

drops contained arsenic, and that by them she had caused the deaths

of more than six hundred persons. The Emperor repeated her story to

his physician, Garelli, by whom it was communicated to Hoffmann, who

published it in his “Rational Medicine.” She preferred to prepare her

drops by rubbing arsenic into the broken joints of a hog just killed

and then collecting the juice. Tofana took refuge in a convent and

lived for some twenty years after her condemnation. A letter from the

English Secretary of State to the Commissioners of Customs, dated July

29, 1717, is on record, cautioning them against admitting a liqueur

called Aqua Tufania from Italy, as accounts of its dangerous character

had been received from the British envoys at Naples and Genoa.

THE CHAMBRE ARDENTE.

After the execution of the Marchioness of Brinvilliers, secret

poisoning, far from being suppressed, appears to have become almost

fashionable. The Government at least pretended to believe in widespread

conspiracies. It may have been a political trick, as has been alleged,

to get rid of some inconvenient opponents; but, however this may have

been, a special commission was appointed by the French Government to

inquire into the truth of certain rumours, and this commission acquired

the title of the Chambre de Poisons, or Chambre Ardente. Louis XIV

consented to the institution of this special court on learning that the

notorious Ste. Croix, the coadjutor of Mme. de Brinvilliers, had at

one time nearly secured the position of maître d’hôtel in his palace

at Versailles. It principally concerned itself with the revelations

made by two women who called themselves La Voisin and La Vigoureux,

who with an unfrocked priest, who had assumed the name of Le Sage, had

carried on a fortune-telling business of enormous extent in the city.

They claimed the power of exhibiting the devil to their clients, and

it was charged against them that they had sold a powder of succession

to those who would pay for it. Many highly connected aristocrats were

implicated, and some faced the commission while others left the country

rather than expose themselves to the shame of exposure. La Voisin had

kept records of her business, but those which were produced displayed

rather the ridiculous than the criminal side of the conspiracy. The

Duchesse de Foix had come to her for bosoms; Madame de Varsi wanted

hips. Others had paid her fancy prices for petitions written with

a special ink guaranteed to make them loved by the king. La Voisin

was extremely insolent to her judges, and apparently she and her

accomplices were all sentenced to be burned. According to Voltaire the

sentence was executed in the case of all of them; but the account given

by Madame de Sévigné, and by historians who lived nearer the period, go

to show that the death punishment was only inflicted on La Voisin.

NEGRO CÆSAR’S ANTIDOTE.

In Prestwich’s “Dissertation on Poisons” (1775) an extract is given

from the “Carolina Gazette” of May 9, 1750 stating that the General

Assembly, the governing body of the colony, had authorised the

publication of “Negro Cæsar’s Cure for Poison.” The General Assembly

had purchased Negro Cæsar’s freedom, and granted him £100 a year for

life as the price of this formula. It consisted of roots of plantain

and wild horehound (? of each) 3 oz. boiled together in two quarts of

water down to 1 quart and strained. Of this the patient was to drink

one-third every morning fasting for three consecutive mornings. Certain

conditions of diet were laid down, and it was quaintly added that if

after the three days’ treatment no benefit had resulted it was “a sign

that the patient has either not been poisoned, or has been by such

poison as Cæsar’s antidote will not remedy.”

ARSENIC EATING.

About the middle of the 19th century some discussion took place in

various popular and medical journals in reference to the alleged

practice of eating arsenic in Styria and the neighbouring countries.

Drs. Christison, Swaine Taylor, and Pereira were somewhat more than

sceptical, but several doctors and others wrote confirming the

statements from their personal knowledge. One of the most notable

testimonies was contributed by Dr. Craig Maclagan of Edinburgh in the

“Edinburgh Medical Journal” (1865). Dr. Maclagan had visited Styria

and had introductions to several doctors in that country who had

reported cases known to them. Two men were brought to Dr. Maclagan at

the village of Liegist in Middle Styria, and in his presence took, one

about 4½ and the other 6 grains of white arsenic. Dr. Maclagan brought

home some of the substance which the Styrian doctor had given to these

men, and on testing it found it to be genuine white arsenic. He also

brought back some samples of the urine voided by the men some time

after eating the arsenic, and found in it distinct evidence of the

presence of the poison. The arsenic was taken by the men on a piece

of bread, and in one case was washed down with a draught of water.

How extensive was the habit, Dr. Maclagan could not say. The peasants

called it Hydrach or Huttereich; the correct word was said to be

hutten-rauch, furnace smoke. One of the men took his dose about twice

a week, the other generally once a week. They had of course begun

with doses of less than a grain. It was understood to be a tonic and

stimulant, and to aid the respiration in climbing. It was also believed

to promote sexual desire. Having acquired the habit the occasional dose

was much missed if omitted for long.

IMMUNITY.

The modern employment of serums in the treatment of zymotic diseases

goes a long way towards explaining the fact of the immunity of

individuals in respect to bacterial poisons. But the possibility of

immunity against such poisons as arsenic, opium, or serpent venom

appears to rest on a different basis. In 1896 Professor (now Sir)

Thomas R. Fraser, M.D., F.R.S., reported to the Royal Institution a

long investigation dealing with the alleged resistant power of certain

tribes or sects in India, Africa, &c., who can suffer the bites of

unquestionably venomous snakes without becoming seriously affected.

After quoting numerous reports from old and recent works showing that

this immunity is an actual fact, Professor Fraser described a long

series of experiments extending over many years with venom which he

had obtained from India, America, Africa, and Australia. The venom, he

stated, is a complex substance and is not a ferment. Ascertaining the

minimum lethal dose for each animal he experimented on frogs, cats,

rabbits, guinea pigs, and other animals, and beginning with one-tenth,

one-fifth, or one-half of that dose, and gradually increasing it, he

found it possible to administer four or five times, and in the case

of rabbits up to even fifty times the lethal dose. From the immunised

animal a serum was prepared which was antidotal in very minute

quantities if mixed with the venom, but if administered separately by

hypodermic injection, though at the same moment with the venom, some

twelve and a half times as much was found to be necessary, and it was

estimated for a normal bite of an average man no less than 11½ ounces

would have to be administered hypodermically soon after the bite to

prevent probably a fatal result. The most interesting observation

was that the poison taken into the stomach was almost innocuous, and

yet exercised a protective effect. In many of the narratives given

by travellers describing the feats of the snake charmers it has been

related that they will squeeze the venom from the serpent’s mouth and

swallow it. This would evidently be one of their methods of rendering

themselves proof against the poison when injected by a bite. Professor

Fraser’s paper is published in full in “Nature” April 16 and 23, 1896.

The author gives his reasons for believing that the action of the

antidote is chemical.

MODERN TOXICOLOGY.

Systematic and scientific investigation of alleged poisoning was

scarcely known before the end of the eighteenth or the beginning of

the nineteenth centuries. The advance of chemical and physiological

knowledge, however, was soon applied to the more certain detection of

the criminal use of toxic agents. Orfila’s “Traité de Toxicologie,”

published in 1814, the result of a multitude of experiments, was

the work which led the way in the establishment of exact tests. Dr.

Swaine Taylor in England, Sir Robert Christison in Scotland, Casper

in Germany, and a host of other medical chemists pursued the subject,

and gradually toxicology reached an assured position. How slow was this

attainment may be gathered from the testimony of an expert in a French

murder trial in 1823 that globules of fatty mutton had been mistaken

for white arsenic.

To Marsh’s arsenic test, made known in 1836, may be traced the

practical fall of the poison which for so many centuries had reigned

supreme among the deadly agents employed by the most cowardly but

most dreaded of the tribe of assassins. The power of proving the

presence of the metal which was afforded by the method then set forth

brought out the chemical expert, and led to angry controversies. The

skilled experimenter was apt to be very confident of his results, and

naturally others who claimed to be as skilful as himself disputed his

conclusions. Theories of the almost universal diffusion of arsenic were

vigorously maintained, and on one occasion in France, in 1839, when

Orfila had demonstrated the presence of arsenic extracted from the

organs of the person supposed to have been poisoned, Raspail undertook

to extract as much from the judge’s armchair.

Meantime the resources of the poisoners had been vastly extended by the

discovery of the alkaloids. Many of these substances possessed extreme

toxic power, and the invention of the means of detecting them was

necessarily a gradual process. It was attained, though; and it may be

asserted that at present either by chemical or physiological tests the

recognition of the administration of any of the dangerous alkaloids is

as certain as is that of the metallic poisons.

About the year 1870 a new complication occurred when an Italian

chemist named Dr. Selmi proved that putrefactive animal matter and

certain bacteria yielded alkaloidal products, often poisonous, to which

the name of ptomaines was given. Selmi was engaged as an expert in the

investigation of a case in which it was suspected that an individual

had been poisoned. A product was obtained, apparently an alkaloid, but

which Selmi could not identify with any known vegetable substance.

He came to the conclusion that it was of animal origin, and after

a long series of experiments he proved his theory. Several eminent

toxicologists at first asserted that ptomaines could be distinguished

from vegetable alkaloids by the property of yielding Prussian blue with

ferric salts. This test, however, proved fallacious as several series

of vegetable alkaloids, notably the pyridic and the allylic, gave the

same reaction. The distinction between animal and vegetable alkaloids

is a delicate one, and has to be established by an accumulation of

chemical evidence.

Leucomaines, which are also alkaloidal products, are distinguished from

ptomaines by being formed in the body from living tissues, as a result

of their activity. These were first separated by Armand Gautier in

1886. Their constitution is more complex than is that of the ptomaines,

but they are not generally of a poisonous character.

XXIII

PHARMACY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

“The advance in every section of chemistry during this century

(the 19th), and especially during the latter half of it, has

literally been by leaps and bounds. Although practically a

creation of our own time, no branch has been more fruitful in

result, in suggestion, or in possibility, than that of organic

analysis.”

(SIR THOMAS E. THORPE:--“Essays in Historical Chemistry,” 1894.)

Three great achievements characterise the pharmacy of the nineteenth

century, namely, the discovery of alkaloids in its early years, of

anæsthetics in the middle period, and of synthetic organic products in

its later years.

ALKALOIDS.

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