POISONING PLOTS
THE use of poison as an instrument for political purposes during
the Middle Ages soon spread over Europe, and the dread of wholesale
poisoning caused numerous panics. Some of these alarms may probably
have been circulated by unscrupulous traders who had articles to sell,
or some business interest to forward, but of others authentic records
exist.
June 6 is still kept as a public holiday in Malta. Upon that day, a
century and a half ago, while the island was still possessed by the
Knights of St. John, a Jew waited on the Grand Master, and revealed to
him a plot that had been planned for exterminating the whole population
at a stroke. This man kept a coffee house frequented by the Turkish
slaves, and understanding their language, he had overheard suspicious
remarks among his customers. The Grand Master, believing the truth
of the man's statement, took immediate action. The slaves indicated
were at once seized and put to torture, and they confessed a design of
poisoning all the wells and fountains on the island, and to make the
result surer, each of the conspirators was to assassinate a Christian.
One hundred and twenty-five were found guilty. Some were burnt, some
broken on the wheel, while others were ordered to have their arms and
legs attached to two galleys which, on being rowed apart, would thus
dismember them. Whether these frightful punishments were carried out
it is impossible to say, but the fact remains that the people of Malta
still commemorate their escape from poisoning to the present time.
Wholesale poisoning appears to have been a common practice in Eastern
countries, especially in India and Persia. The wells or other water
sources were usually chosen as the medium for disseminating the poison,
and in this way whole villages have often been destroyed by some
miscreant. Another extraordinary poisoning plot was discovered in Lima
towards the close of the eighteenth century. During the insurrection of
1781, a rich Cacique, who professed loyalty, went to a chemist's shop
and asked for 200 lb. of corrosive sublimate. He was willing to pay
any price. The chemist had not anything like that amount in stock, and
not wishing to send such a good customer away, substituted 200 lb. of
alum. On the following day all the water in the town was found to be
impregnated with alum. An examination being made of the reservoir, it
was found that the fence round it had been broken down and the banks
strewn with alum, and the water rendered undrinkable.
England has remained practically free from crimes of this kind. In
1530, a case occurred which caused great public indignation. Fisher,
Bishop of Rochester, was accustomed to entertain a number of poor
people daily. One afternoon a large number of his humble guests,
together with some of the officers of the household, were taken
ill. Two died, and after an examination of the food had been made,
it was declared the yeast had been poisoned. Parliament took up the
investigation, and the bishop's cook, one Richard Rowe, was found
guilty. He was tried, and sentenced to be boiled alive as a terrible
example to others. Boiling seems to have been a favourite punishment
for poisoners during the Middle Ages, a fact which, doubtless, shows
the abhorrence in which crimes of this kind were held.
It is further recorded that "On March 17th, 1524, Margaret Davy, maid,
was boiled in Smithfield for poisoning three households she had dwelled
in."
Among Queen Elizabeth's statesmen, poison would appear to have been
regarded as almost a legitimate weapon of defence. Her favourite
Leicester, to whom we have already alluded, was often called "The
Poisoner." This propensity was probably largely due to the fact
that most young Englishmen of rank were sent to Italy to finish
their education, and there were introduced to the Italian methods of
poisoning so much in vogue.
The Duc de Guise, in his memoirs, relates in a most matter-of-fact way,
how he requested the captain of his guard to poniard a troublesome
demagogue at Naples. The captain was shocked. He would poison any one
at his Grace's command with pleasure, but the dagger was a vulgar
instrument. So the duke bought some strong poison, the composition
of which he describes at length, and it was duly administered. But
Gennaro, the intended victim, had just eaten cabbage dressed in oil,
which is said to have acted as an antidote, and so he lived after all.