CHAPTER IV

PROFESSIONAL POISONERS

THE criminal destruction of life by poison has been practised from

ancient times. Very little was known of toxicology in those days,

and even the symptoms often passed unrecognised or were attributed

to natural causes, and the poisoners' fiendish work was frequently

undiscovered and rendered easy. In the early Christian era, poisoning,

indeed, became quite a profession, and convenient individuals could be

hired with little difficulty to administer a deadly dose to an enemy

or rival. Agrippina, in refusing to eat some apples offered to her

at table by her father-in-law Tiberius, must have had suspicions of

this kind. Locusta, who is said to have supplied the poison by which

Agrippina got rid of Claudius, and who also prepared the dose for

Britannicus, according to the order of his brother Nero, is the first

professional poisoner of whom we have record.

In the year B.C. 331 an epidemic broke out in Rome which was supposed

to proceed from corrupt air, but it was observed that the principal

patricians only were the victims. Their deaths, however, were

attributed to infection, for poisoning was then scarcely known in

Rome nor was there a law for its punishment. In the general grief,

a female slave presented herself to the edile curule Q. Fabius and

accused more than twenty Roman ladies of poisoning: designing specially

Cornelia, a lady of an illustrious family of that name, and Sergia,

another patrician lady. It is recorded that as many as three hundred

and sixty-six ladies were similarly accused; but Cornelia and Sergia

were detected in compounding their fatal potions. "When led before

the popular assembly they maintained their preparations were harmless

remedies. The slave, seeing herself accused as a false witness, asked

that the ladies should be required to swallow their own potions; which

they did, and by so doing avoided a more shameful death."

Later, there were, doubtless, many, both men and women of the baser

sort, who professed to practise alchemy, and had dealings in the black

arts, who for suitable consideration would procure poison for criminal

purposes. In mediæval times a law was passed in Italy rendering the

apothecary, who knowingly sold poison for criminal purposes, liable to

a heavy penalty, and yet secret poisoning was practised to a very large

extent; and there were probably many like the poor apothecary of Mantua

in _Romeo and Juliet_, who, in response to Romeo's demand for poison,

replied, "My poverty and not my will consents."

From the fifteenth to the seventeenth century two great criminal

schools arose in Venice and Italy.

The Venetian poisoners who first came into notoriety, flourished in the

fifteenth century. At that period the mania for poisoning had risen

to such a height, that the governments of the states were formally

recognizing secret assassination by poison, and considering the removal

of emperors, princes, and powerful nobles by this method. The notorious

Council of Ten met to consider such plans, and an account and record of

their proceedings still exists, giving the number of those who voted

for and who voted against the proposed removal, the reasons for the

assassination, and the sum to be paid for its execution. Thus these

conspirators quietly arranged to take the lives of many prominent

individuals; and when the deed was executed, it was registered on the

margin of their official record by the significant word "Factum." On

December 15, 1543, John of Raguba, a Franciscan brother, offered the

Council a selection of poisons, and declared himself ready to remove

any person whom they deemed objectionable out of the way. He calmly

stated his terms, which for the first successful case were to be a

pension of 1,500 ducats a year, to be increased on the execution of

future services. The Presidents, Guolando Duoda and Pietro Guiarini,

placed this matter before the Council on January 4, 1544, and on a

division, it was resolved to accept this patriotic offer, and to

experiment first on the Emperor Maximilian. John, who had evidently

reduced poisoning to a fine art, submitted afterwards a regular

graduated tariff to the Council, which ran as follows--

For the great Sultan, 500 ducats.

For the King of Spain, 150 ducats, including the expenses of the

journey, etc.

For the Duke of Milan, 60 ducats.

For the Marquis of Mantua, 50 ducats.

For the Pope, 100 ducats.

He further adds at the foot of the document, "The farther the journey,

the more eminent the man, the more it is necessary to reward the toil

and hardships undertaken, and the heavier must be the payment."

The school of Italian poisoners became prominent in the sixteenth and

seventeenth centuries, and the magnitude of their operations during

that period struck terror into the hearts of the chief nobles and

rulers of that country.

The mania for secret poisoning seems to have seized on all classes

from the highest to the lowest, and no one who made an enemy was

safe. Porta, in his work published in 1589, gives some account of

the poisons used at the time, and seems to have made a study of the

subject. He describes methods for drugging wine (a favourite medium of

administration) with belladonna root, and also mentions nux vomica,

aconite, and hellebore, in his account of poisonous bodies. He gives

the following recipe for compounding a very strong poison, which he

calls "Venenum Lupinum": "Take of the powdered leaves of _Aconitum

lycoctonum_, _Taxus baccata_, with powdered glass, caustic lime,

sulphide of arsenic, and bitter almonds. Mix them with honey, and

make into pills the size of a hazel nut." He also recommends a curious

mixture to poison a sleeping person. It is composed of a mixture of

hemlock juice, bruised stramonium, belladonna, and opium. This is to be

placed in a leaden box with a perfectly fitting cover, and allowed to

ferment for several days; it is then to be opened under the nose of the

intended victim while asleep. So long as the individual only got the

smell and did not swallow the compound, it certainly would not do him

much harm.

The most notorious of the Italian poisoners was the woman Toffana or

Toffania, who carried on her practices from the latter end of the

seventeenth century until she was brought to justice in 1709. Toffana

resided first at Palermo, but removed to Naples in 1659 during the

pontificate of Alexander VII. This later Circe gained large sums of

money by the sale of certain mysterious preparations she compounded,

which were afterwards proved to be simply solutions of arsenious acid.

These were circulated throughout Italy in small glass phials, bearing

the image of a saint, and labelled various names such as "Acquetta di

Napoli," or the "Manna of St. Nicholas of Bari," and "Aqua Toffana."

Any one in the secret could buy the poison for its supposed use as

a cosmetic, or other innocent property, and then employ it for any

purpose they wished. This infamous woman carried on her nefarious trade

from girlhood until she was nearly seventy years of age, without ever

having fallen into the meshes of the law, and it is stated over six

hundred persons were poisoned through her instrumentality. She dealt

only with individuals, after due safeguards had been built up, and she

changed her abode so frequently, and adopted so many disguises, that

her detection was rendered very difficult. She also called in the aids

of religion and superstition, and those who were uninitiated in the

history of her deadly elixir, imagined it to be a certain miraculous

oil which was supposed to ooze from the tomb of St. Nicholas. The

Popes Pius III and Clement XIV are said to have fallen victims to its

use. The composition of the Acquetta di Napoli was long a profound

secret, but it is said to have been known by the Emperor Charles VI of

Austria. According to a letter addressed to Hoffmann[2] by Garceli,

physician to the emperor, he informed the latter that, being Governor

of Naples at the time that the Acquetta was the dread of every noble

family in the city, and when the subject was investigated legally he

had an opportunity of examining all the documents, and that he found

the poison consisted of a solution of arsenic in _Aqua cymbalariæ_.

The dose was said to be from four to six drops in water, and that it

was colourless, transparent and tasteless. When the manufacture and

sale of the poison was at last traced to Toffana, she took refuge in

a convent, from which the abbess and archbishop refused to give her

up, and so continued to sell the water for twenty years longer, and

evaded punishment for the time. Public indignation was roused to such a

pitch, that at last the convent was broken into by a body of soldiers,

who secured Toffana and handed her over to the authorities. She was

tortured until she confessed in 1709, and then strangled, her body

being thrown into the garden of the convent which had sheltered her.

Aqua Toffana was reputed to possess some very peculiar properties, and,

among others, that of causing death at any determinate period, after

months, for example, or even years of ill-health (a common supposition

attributed to poisons in the Middle Ages). Its alleged effects are

graphically described by Behrens as follows: "A certain indescribable

change is felt in the whole body, which leads the person to complain

to his physician. The physician examines and reflects, but finds no

symptoms either external or internal, no vomiting, no inflammation,

no fever. In short, he can only advise patience, strict regimen, and

laxatives. The malady, however, creeps on, and the physician is again

sent for. Still he cannot detect any symptoms of note. Meanwhile the

poison takes firmer hold of the system; languor, wearisomeness, and

loathing of food continue; the nobler organs gradually become torpid,

and the lungs in particular at length begin to suffer. In a word, the

malady from the first is incurable; the unhappy victim pines away

insensibly even in the hands of the physician, and thus is he brought

to a miserable end through months or years, according to his enemy's

desire."

Toffana had many imitators, and some time after her death a similar

scheme was attempted with a poisonous solution reputedly sold as a

cosmetic, called the "Acquetta di Perugia." It is said to have been

prepared by killing a hog, disjointing it, strewing the pieces with

white arsenic, which was well rubbed in, and finally collecting the

juice which dropped from the meat itself. This preparation was supposed

to be much stronger and a more powerful poison than arsenic itself, but

doubtless had the same fatal effect.

It is a curious fact that most of the notorious poisoners in mediæval

times were women, and, indeed, in later years the frail sex seem to

have retained a special predilection for this form of crime. In the

year 1659, a secret society of women, most of whom were young wives

belonging to some of the best and wealthiest families of Rome, was

discovered in that city, the sole or chief object of which was to

destroy the lives of the husbands of the members. They met at regular

intervals at the house of one Hieronyma Spara, a woman reputed to be a

witch, who provided her fellow associates and pupils with the required

poison, and planned and instructed them how to use it. Operations had

been carried on for some time, when the existence of the society was

discovered and, says a chronicler, "the hardened old hag passed the

ordeal of the rack without confession; but another woman divulged the

secrets of the sisterhood, and La Spara, together with twelve other

women implicated, were hanged." Many others who were guilty in a lesser

degree were publicly whipped through the streets of the city.

In the seventeenth century the mania for poisoning seems to have spread

to France, and great interest was excited by the disclosures which

followed the discovery of Exili's conspiracy to poison a number of

persons. Madame de Montespan, one of the favourites of Louis XIV, a

woman of great beauty, died very suddenly at the age of twenty-six, on

June 30, 1672, and it was generally believed she had been poisoned.

The rumour seems to have been set on foot by one of her husband's old

servants, who professed to know the individual who had administered

the fatal dose. "This man," said he, "who was not rich, withdrew

immediately afterwards into Normandy, where he bought an estate, on

which he lived with grandeur a long time; the poison was powder of

diamonds, mixed, instead of sugar, with strawberries."

Voltaire, who believed the whole story to be a myth, states: "The

court and city believed the princess had been poisoned with a glass

of water of succory, after which she felt terrible pains, and soon

after was seized with the agonies of death; but the natural malignity

of mankind, and a fondness for extraordinary incidents, were the only

inducements to this general persuasion. The glass of water could not

be poisoned, since Madame de la Fayette and another person drunk what

remained without receiving the least injury from it. The princess had

been a long time ill of an abscess, which had formed itself in the

liver." For some time the young Chevalier De Lorraine, the favourite

of the Duke of Orleans, rested under suspicion, it being openly stated

that the motive was to revenge the banishment and imprisonment which

his misbehaviour to the princess a short time before had drawn upon

him. Public opinion was strengthened in the belief that the princess

had met her death through poison, by the fact that just at this time

the mania for secret poisoning seemed to spread over France. About

this date a German apothecary and alchemist, named Glaser, settled

in Paris, together with two Italians, one of whom was called Exili.

Their professed object was a research to discover the Philosopher's

Stone. Having lost the little they possessed in a very short time in

the pursuit of this chimera, they commenced the secret sale of poisons.

Through the confessional their nefarious trade became known to the

Grand Penitentiary of Paris. This dignitary gave information to the

Government, and the two suspected Italians were promptly sent to the

Bastille, where one of them died; but Exili, while still in prison,

managed to carry on his business, and found ready purchasers for his

secrets, and the number of deaths attributed to poison increased to

such an extent, that a special court for the investigation of poisoning

cases, called "La Chambre Ardente," was formed. A few years later

the whole of France was aroused by the confession of the Marquise de

Brinvilliers of having poisoned her father, two brothers, and a sister.

Her husband, the Marquis de Brinvilliers, invited a friend, one Captain

St. Croix, who was an officer in his regiment, to lodge in his house.

The too agreeable person of the lady of the house speedily charmed the

visitor, and to her credit she endeavoured to inspire her husband with

a fear of the consequences; but he obstinately persisted in keeping

his young friend in the house with his wife, who was both young and

handsome, with the result they soon conceived a passion for each other.

The father of the marquise, one Lieutenant Daubrai was greatly incensed

on hearing of his daughter's indiscretions, and obtaining a _lettre de

cachet_ had the captain sent to the Bastille. Here St. Croix was placed

in the same cell as Exili, and the latter soon instructed him how he

might easily revenge himself. The marquise, who found means of visiting

her lover, was informed how to obtain the poison, and at once commenced

operations on those members of her family who were most incensed

against her, with the result, that first her father, then her brothers

and sister fell victims to her revenge. Suspicion resting on her, she

fled into Belgium, and was arrested at Liège. A full confession of her

crimes, written by her own hand, was found upon her.

She was eventually beheaded, and burnt near Notre Dame in July, 1676.

St. Croix is said to have accidentally succumbed to the effects of

poisonous fumes in his own laboratory. The authorities on examining

his effects, as he left no family, came across a small box to which

a paper was attached, which contained a request that after his death

"it might be delivered to the Marquise de Brinvilliers, who resides in

Rue Neuve St. Paul." This paper was signed and dated by St. Croix on

May 25, 1672. On the box being opened, it was found to contain a large

collection of various poisons, including corrosive sublimate, antimony,

and opium. When the marquise heard of the death of her lover, she at

once made every effort to obtain the box by bribing the officers of

justice, but failed. La Chaussée, the servant of St. Croix, laid claim

to the property, but was arrested as an accomplice and imprisoned. On

confessing many serious crimes he was broken alive on the wheel in

1673. Evidence was brought to prove at the trial of De Brinvilliers,

that both she and St. Croix were secretly combined with other persons

accused of similar crimes. Some distinguished people were implicated,

including Pennautier, the receiver-general of the clergy, who was

afterwards accused of practising her secrets. One crime seemed to bring

another to light, and two persons, named La Voisin and La Vigoreux,

a priest named Le Sage, and several others, were next haled before

the tribunal, and charged with trading with the secrets of Exili and

inciting people with weak minds to the crime of poisoning. It was

alleged that through their instrumentality a large number of married

women had hastened the decease of their husbands.

The Chambre Ardente, or Burning Court, as it was commonly called, was

established at the Arsenal, near the Bastille, and was rarely idle.

Persons of the highest rank were cited to appear before it; among

others, two nieces of Cardinal Mazarin, the Duchess of Bouillon, and

the Countess de Soissons, mother of Prince Eugène. The Countess de

Soissons had to retire to Brussels.

The Marshal de Luxemburg was the next sensational arrest. He was

carried to the Bastille and submitted to a long examination, after

which he was allowed to remain fourteen months in prison. La Voisin and

his accomplices were eventually condemned and burnt at the stake, which

seemed to put a check on this series of abominable crimes which spread

throughout France from 1670 to 1680.

Maria Louisa, daughter of Louis XIV, who married Charles II, King

of Spain, is said to have died from the effects of poison in 1689.

Voltaire states: "It was undoubtedly believed that the Austrian

Ministers of Charles II would get rid of her, because she loved her

country and might prevent the king, her husband, from declaring for the

allies against France; they even sent her from Versailles what they

believed to be a counter-poison." This did not arrive until after her

death. In the memoirs of the Marquis de Dangeau, he says: "The king

announced the death of his daughter at supper in these words--'The

Queen of Spain is dead, poisoned by eating of an eel pye; and the

Countess de Pernits and the Cameras, Zapeita, and Nina, who eat of it

after her, are also dead of the same poison.'" It is more than probable

the unfortunate queen and her ladies succumbed to some putrefactive

poison in the fish itself, and were not killed by intent. Nothing was

known of animal poisons in those days, and such was the state of the

public mind that nearly every sudden death was at once attributed to

poison.

The close of the reign of Louis XIV was marked by the sudden deaths of

no less than six members of the royal family in close succession. The

public sorrow and excitement were great, and rumours and suspicions

of poisoning were revived with fury unexampled. The prince had a

laboratory, and among other arts studied chemistry. This was considered

by the ignorant to be sufficient proof, and the public outcry became

terrible. On a visit of the Marquis de Canellae, the prince was found

extended on the floor shedding tears, and distracted with despair. His

chemist and fellow worker, Homberg, ran to surrender himself at the

Bastille, but they refused to receive him without orders. The prince

was so beside himself on hearing the public outcry and suspicions

that he demanded to be put in prison so that his innocence might be

cleared by judicial forms. The _lettre de cachet_ was actually made

out, but not signed. The marquis alone kept his head, and prevailed

upon the prince's mother to oppose the _lettre de cachet_. "The monarch

who granted it, and his nephew who demanded it, were both equally

wretched," says the historian.

The "poudre de succession," famous in Paris as a secret poison, was

at one time supposed to consist of diamond dust, but, according to

Haller, was really composed of sugar of lead. This was used by several

notorious criminals during the seventeenth century.

[2] Hoffmann, _Medecina Rationalis Systematica_, i. 198.

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