ROYAL AND HISTORIC POISONERS
POISON appears to have been employed as a political agent from a very
early period of history, and numerous stories have been handed down
of royal personages who used this secret and deadly method of ridding
themselves of troublesome individuals, and removing enemies from their
path. They also, at times, became the victims of jealous rivals by the
same nefarious means.
One of the earliest traditions we have of this kind is that of Phrysa,
who poisoned the queen Statira during the reign of Artaxerxes II
(Mnemon), B.C. 405-359, by cutting her food with a poisoned knife.
The notorious Nero doubtless resorted to the use of poison more than
once, as may be inferred from the story of the death of his brother
Britannicus, who, it is said, was poisoned by his orders. Britannicus
was dining with his brother and the Imperial family, and, as was the
custom of the Romans, hot water was brought round by slaves to the
table, the water being heated to varied degrees to suit the taste
of the drinker. According to the story, the cup of water handed to
Britannicus proved to be too hot, and he gave it back to the attendant
slave, who added cold water to it, which addition is supposed to have
contained the poison; for no sooner had he swallowed the draught than
he fell back gasping for breath. His mother, Agrippina, and Octavia,
his sister, who were also at the table, became terror-stricken, but
Nero, unmoved, calmly remarked that he often had such fits in his youth
without danger, and the banquet proceeded. It is thought probable that
the poison given was prussic acid in some form.
A curious superstition existed in early times, and is still entertained
by the ignorant, that if the body rapidly decomposes after a sudden
death it is to be attributed to the effects of poison. So when
Britannicus died, it is recorded that the Romans attempted to conceal
his discoloured face by means of paint. During the Roman period,
poisoning was reduced to a fine art, and the skilled or professional
poisoner obtained large amounts of money for his services.
The Borgias' favourite method of administering a lethal dose was by
means of a species of hypodermic injection.
The greatest craft and cunning used to be exerted in order to introduce
poison into the system, and there are many old traditions concerning
the subtle methods employed, although a number of these are doubtless
more legendary than correct. Thus Tissot states that John, King of
Castile, owed his death to wearing a pair of boots which were supposed
to have been impregnated with poison by a Turk. Henry VI is said to
have succumbed through wearing poisoned gloves and Louis XIV and
Pope Clement VII through the fumes from a poisoned taper. King John
is supposed to have been poisoned by matter extracted from a living
toad placed in his wassail bowl, while Pope Alexander VI is said also
to have fallen a victim to poison, "after which," according to the
chronicler, "his body presented a fearful spectacle."
A document drawn up by Charles, King of Navarre, throws some light on
the systematic manner in which the poisoning of obnoxious persons was
carried out in mediæval times. It is in the form of a commission to
one Wondreton to poison Charles VI, the Duke of Valois, brother of the
King, and his uncles, the Dukes of Berri, Burgundy, and Bourbon. It
runs: "Go thou to Paris; thou canst do great service if thou wilt. Do
what I tell thee; I will reward thee well. There is a thing which is
called sublimed arsenic; if a man eat a bit the size of a pea, he will
never survive. Thou wilt find it in Pampeluna, Bordeaux, Bayonne, and
in all the good towns thou wilt pass at the apothecaries' shops. Take
it, and powder it; and when thou shalt be in the house of the King, of
the Count de Valois his brother, and the Dukes of Berri, Burgundy, and
Bourbon, draw near and betake thyself to the kitchen, to the larder, to
the cellar, or any other place where thy point can best be gained, and
put the powder in the soups, meats, or wines; provided that thou canst
do it secretly. Otherwise do it not." It is satisfactory to learn that
the miscreant who was intrusted with this diabolical commission, was
detected in time, and executed in 1384.
It is related of Charles IX that, having suspected one of his cooks of
stealing two silver spoons, he resolved to try the effect of bezoar,
which at that time was highly recommended as an antidote to poisons.
So, thinking a good opportunity had arrived for testing its properties,
his Majesty administered to the unfortunate cook, first, a large dose
of corrosive sublimate, and then a dose of the reputed antidote; but
the unlucky man fell a victim to the experiment, and died in great
agony in seven hours, in spite of other efforts to save him.
There is an old tradition that King John also figured as a poisoner,
and got rid of the unfortunate Maud Fitz-Walter by means of a poisoned
egg. The story is a romantic one, and is related by Hepworth Dixon in
"Her Majesty's Tower." "In the reign of King John, the White Tower
received one of the first and fairest of a long line of female victims,
in that of Maud Fitz-Walter, who was known to the singers of her time
as Maud the Fair. The father of this beautiful girl was Robert, Lord
Fitz-Walter, of Castle Baynard, on the Thames, one of John's most
powerful and greatest barons. Yet the King, during, it is said, a fit
of violence or temper with the Queen, fell madly in love with the fair
Maud. As neither the lady herself nor her powerful sire would listen to
his disgraceful suit, the King is said to have seized her by force at
Dunmow and brought her to the Tower. Fitz-Walter raised an outcry, on
which the King sent troops into Castle Baynard and his other houses,
and when the baron protested against these wrongs, his master banished
him from the realm. Fitz-Walter fled to France with his wife and other
children, leaving poor Maud in the Tower, where she suffered a daily
insult in the King's unlawful suit. But she remained obdurate, and
refused his offers. On her proud and scornful answer to his overtures
being heard, John carried her up to the roof and locked her in the
round turret, standing on the north-east angle of the keep. Maud's
cage was the highest and chilliest den in the Tower; but neither cold,
solitude, nor hunger could break her strength, and at last, in the rage
of his disappointed love, the King sent one of his minions to her room
with a poisoned egg, of which the brave girl ate and died."
Bluff King Hal at one period of his life was apprehensive of being
poisoned, and it was commonly believed that Anne Boleyn attempted to
dose him. It is recorded that the King, in an interview with young
Prince Henry, burst into tears, saying that he and his sister, the
Princess Mary, might thank God for having escaped from the hands of
that accursed and venomous harlot, who had intended to poison them.
According to the French Chronicles, "After the death of Gaultier
Giffard, Count Buckingham, in the early part of the twelfth century,
Agnes his widow became enamoured with Robert Duke of Normandy and
attached herself in an illicit manner to him, shortly after which time
his wife Sibylle died of poison."
Pope Alexander VI and his son the Duke Valentinois employed arsenic to
carry out their fiendish plans, not only on their enemies, but their
friends also. Thus perished by their hands the Cardinals of Capua and
Modena; and Alexander himself by a cup intended for Adrian, Cardinal
of Corneto, who had invited the pope to a banquet in the Vineyard of
Belvedere, was destroyed instead of his host.
Lucretia Borgia, famous in romance and song for her poisoning
propensities, was a daughter of Pope Alexander VI, and sister of
Cesare Borgia. She married Giovanni Sforza, Lord of Pesaro, in 1493,
but being a woman of haughty disposition and evil temper, their life
was anything but a happy one; and after living together for four
years, Alexander dissolved the marriage, and gave her to Alphonso II
of Naples. Two years had barely passed before her second husband was
assassinated by hired ruffians of Cesare Borgia. So Lucretia took unto
herself a third husband in the person of Alphonso d'Este, a son of the
Duke of Ferrara. She led a wild and unhappy life, and was accused of
poisoning, and almost every form of crime, although it is stated by
several modern historians that many of these charges were unfounded.
Although tradition has inflicted her with a bad character, she is said
to have been a liberal patroness of art and literature in her time. She
died in 1523.
In 1536 the Dauphin, eldest son of Francis I, died suddenly, and
suspicion attached to Sebastian Montecucculi, a Ferrarese, who held the
part of cup-bearer--bribed, as was supposed by Catherine of Medicis in
order to secure the crown to her husband, Henry, Duke of Orleans, who
became Dauphin in consequence of his elder brother's death.
The story of the Countess of Somerset, who was tried with others for
the murder of Sir Thomas Overbury in the reign of James I, forms an
interesting episode in the history of romantic poisoning. Robert,
Earl of Essex, son of Queen Elizabeth's favourite, and who afterwards
became Commander-in-chief of the Parliamentary forces, married, at
the age of fourteen, Frances Howard, a younger daughter of the Earl
of Suffolk, the bride being just a year younger than her husband. The
match had been arranged and brought about through the influence of
relatives, who thought it expedient that the youthful bridegroom should
be sent off to travel on the Continent immediately after the marriage
had taken place, and he remained away for three or four years. During
this period the countess, who was brought up at court, developed into
a very beautiful woman, but seems to have been equally unprincipled
and capricious. On the return of the earl from his travels, she shrank
from all advances on his part, and showed the utmost repugnance to her
husband on all occasions. Their dispositions were entirely different.
He loved retirement, and wished to live a quiet country life, while
she, who had been bred at court, and accustomed to adulation and
intrigue, refused to leave town. The King about this time had a number
of young men of distinguished appearance and good looks attached to the
court, and of these, one Robert Carr, at length became an exclusive
favourite. Between him and the self-willed young countess there sprang
up an attachment, which, at least on her side, amounted to infatuation.
Her opportunities for meeting her lover were short and rare, and in
this emergency she applied to a Mrs. Turner, who introduced her to Dr.
Forman, a noted astrologer and magician at that time, and he, by images
made of wax, and other devices of the black art, undertook to procure
the love of Carr to the lady. At the same time he was also to practise
against the earl in the opposite direction. These measures, however,
were too slow for the wayward countess, and having gone to the utmost
lengths with her inamorata, she insisted on a divorce, and a legal
marriage with him.
One of Carr's greatest friends was Sir Thomas Overbury, a young
courtier and a man of honour and kindly disposition. He was much
against this intimacy, and besought his friend to break it off,
assuring him it would ruin his prospects and reputation if he married
the lady. Carr unwisely made this known to the countess, who at once
regarded Overbury as a bitter enemy, and resolved to do what she could
to overthrow him. The pair plotted together with evident success,
for the unfortunate Sir Thomas was shortly afterwards committed to
the Tower by an arbitrary mandate of the King; next, he was not
allowed to see any visitors; and, finally, his food was poisoned,
and, after several unsuccessful attempts on his life, he at last died
from the effects of poison. Cantharides, nitrate of silver, spiders,
arsenic, and last of all, corrosive sublimate, are said to have been
administered in turn to this unfortunate individual. Meanwhile,
the countess obtained a divorce from her husband on the ground of
impotency, and married Carr, who was soon after made Earl of Somerset
by King James.
Two years elapsed before the murder of Sir Thomas Overbury was brought
to light, when the inferior criminals, Mrs. Turner and the others, were
convicted and executed; but the Earl of Somerset and his countess,
although found guilty with their accomplices, received the royal
pardon. The happiness of the earl and countess, however, was not of
long duration, as it is stated they afterwards became so alienated
from each other, that they resided for years under the same roof with
the most careful precautions that they might not by any chance come
into each other's presence. The Mrs. Turner implicated in the crime is
said to have been the first to introduce into England the yellow starch
that was then applied to ladies' ruffs. Her last request was, that she
should be hanged in a ruff dyed with her own yellow starch, which is
said to have been carried out.
According to some historians, Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, Prime
Minister and favourite of Queen Elizabeth, was a poisoner of the most
diabolical description.
His ambition to marry his royal mistress, who, shrewd woman as she was,
seems to have had no insight into his unscrupulous character, was the
cause of his moving every human obstacle from his path by insidious
methods. The murder of his wife Amy Robsart was the first of a long
series of murders, carried out, doubtless, at his instigation. He was
next suspected of causing the death of Lord Sheffield, of whose lady he
was an admirer. The Earl of Essex is said to have been another victim.
His death is described in the language of the time as having been due
to "an extreme flux caused by an Italian Receit, the maker whereof was
a surgeon that then was newly come to my Lord from Italy, a cunning man
and sure in operation. The inventor of this recipe was known as one
Dr. Julio, who was said to be able to make a man dye in what manner
of sickness you will." The death of the Earl of Essex took place when
on his way home from Ireland, with the object of revenging himself
on the Earl of Leicester for his domestic wrongs. The next victim is
said to have been Cardinal Chatillian, who, having accused the earl
of preventing the marriage of the queen to the King of France, was
journeying back to Dover, when he was taken suddenly ill and died in
Canterbury.
Sir Nicholas Throgmorton, a wealthy city magnate and a tool of the
earl's, whom, 'tis said, he used to thwart the doings of the Lord
Treasurer, Sir William Cecil, was another victim. Having heard that Sir
Nicholas was revealing some of his secrets, he invited him one night
to supper at his house in London, and at supper time hurriedly went to
the court, to which he said he had been called suddenly by her Majesty.
Sir Nicholas proceeded with the meal in his absence, and soon after
was seized with a violent vomiting, from which he never recovered.
According to an old chronicler, "The day before his death he declared
to a dear friend, all the circumstances and cause of his complaint,
which he affirmed plainly to be poison given him in a sallet at supper,
inveighing most earnestly against the earl's cruelty and bloody
disposition, and affirming him to be the wickedest, most perilous and
perfidious man under heaven."
The chronicler continues: "And for his art of poisoning, it is such
now, and reaching so far, as he holdeth all his foes in England and
elsewhere, as also a good many of his friends, in fear thereof, and
if it were known how many he hath despatched in that way would be
marvellous to posterity.
"His body physician, one Dr. Bayly, openly proclaimed the fact that he
knew of poisons which might be so tempered that they should kill the
party afterwards at what time it should be appointed; which argument
belike," says the writer of _Leycester's Commonwealth_, "pleased well
his Lordship of Leicester. The tool who carried out the murder of
the Earl of Essex is said to have been one Crompton, Yeoman of the
Bottles, together with Godwick Lloyd." Leicester was suspected of
being the instigator of many murders which probably he may have had
nothing to do with, such was the feeling of dislike against him. Among
others was Lady Lennox, who died in a mysterious manner shortly after
being visited by the earl.
He is said to have kept in his employ several needy but unscrupulous
physicians, ready to administer the "Italian Comfortive," as the poison
was called, at his bidding. "With the Earl of Essex, one Mrs. Alice
Drakott, a godly gentlewoman, is also said to have been poisoned."
This lady happened to be accompanying the earl on her way towards her
own house, when after partaking of the same cup she was also seized
with violent pain and vomiting, which continued until she died, a
day or two before the earl succumbed. "When she was dead," says
the chronicler, "her body was swollen into a monstrous bigness and
deformity; whereof the good earl, hearing the day following, lamented
the case greatly, and said in the presence of his servants, 'Ah! poor
Alice, the cup was not prepared for thee, albeit it was thy hard
fortune to taste thereof.'"