Poison Romance and Poison Mysteries

Long before the action of vegetable and mineral substances on human beings and animals was known, it is probable that poisonous bodies in some form were used by primitive man.

When injured in battle by perhaps a flint arrow-head, or stone axe, he sought for something to revenge himself on his enemy. In his search after curative remedies he also found noxious ones, which produced unpleasant effects when applied to the point of a weapon destined to enter the internal economy of an opponent.

He doubtless also became aware that the spear-points and arrow-heads on which the blood of former victims had dried, caused wounds that rapidly proved fatal, owing to the action of what we now call septic poisons. This probably led to experiments with the juices of plants, until something of a more deadly character was discovered.

This was the very earliest age of poisoning, when pharmacy was employed for vicious or revengeful purposes.

Thus we find that almost every savage nation and people has its own peculiar poison. In Africa the seeds of Strophanthus hispidus, or kombé, a most virulent poison, are used for this purpose; while explorers tell us that the ancient pigmy race of Central Africa employ a species of red ant crushed to a paste, to tip their arrows and spears. The South American Indians poison their arrow-heads with curare or ourari, produced from a species of strychnos and other plants, while the Malays and hill tribes of India use aconite, and other poisonous juices and extracts. The Antiaris toxicaria is also used as an arrow poison by the Malays.

The bushmen of the South African district "Kalahari," use the juice of the leaf beetle "diamphidia" and its larva for poisoning their arrow-heads. Lewin, who calls the beetle Diamphidia simplex, found in its body, besides inert fatty acids, a toxalbumin which causes paralysis, and finally death. According to Boehm, the poison from the larva also belongs to the toxalbumins, and Starke states, that it causes the dissolution of the colouring matter of the blood and produces inflammation.

A halo of mystery, sometimes intermixed with romance, has hung about the dread word poison from very early times. In the dark days of mythology, allusions to mysterious poisons were made in legend and saga. Thus a country in the Far North was supposed to be ruled and dominated by sorcerers and kindred beings, all of whom were said to be children of the Sun. Here dwelt ??tes, Perses, Hecate, Medea, and Circe. Hecate was the daughter of Perses and married to ??tes, and their daughters were Medea and Circe. ??tes and Perses were said to be brothers, and their country was afterwards supposed to be Colchis. To Hecate is ascribed the foundation of sorcery and the discovery of poisonous herbs. Her knowledge of magic and spells was supposed to be unequalled. She transmitted her power to Medea, whose wonderful exploits have been frequently described and depicted, and who by her magic arts subdued the dragon that guarded the golden fleece, and assisted Jason to perform his famous deeds. Hecate's garden is described by the poets as being enclosed in lofty walls with thrice-folding doors of ebony, which were guarded by terrible forms, and only those who bore the leavened rod of expiation and the concealed conciliatory offering could enter. Towering above was the temple of the dread sorceress, where the ghastly sacrifices were offered and all kinds of horrible spells worked.

Medea was also learned in sorcery and an accomplished magician. It is related that, after her adventures with Jason, she returned with him to Thessaly. On their arrival they found ?son, the father of Jason, and Pelias, his uncle, who had usurped the throne, both old and decrepit. Medea was requested to exert her magical powers to make the old man young again, an operation she is said to have speedily performed by infusing the juice of certain potent plants into his veins.

Some years after, Medea deserted Jason and fled to Athens, and shortly afterwards married ?geus, king of that city. ?geus had a son by a former wife, named Theseus, who had been brought up in exile. At length he resolved to return and claim his parentage, but Medea hearing of this, and for some reason greatly resenting it, put a poisoned goblet into the hands of ?geus at an entertainment he gave to Theseus, with the intent that he should hand it to his son. At the critical moment, however, the king cast his eyes on the sword of Theseus, and at once recognized it as that which he had delivered to his son when a child, and had directed that it should be brought by him when a man, as a token of the mystery of his birth. The goblet was at once thrown away, the father embraced his son, and Medea fled from Athens in a chariot drawn by dragons through the air.

Circe's charms were of a more seductive and romantic character. She is said to have been endowed with exquisite beauty, which she employed to allure travellers to her territory. On their landing, she entreated and enticed them to drink from her enchanted cup. But no sooner was the draught swallowed, than the unfortunate stranger was turned into a hog, and driven by the magician to her sty, where he still retained the consciousness of what he had been, and lived to repent his folly.

Gula, the patroness of medicine and a divinity of the Accadians, was regarded by that ancient people as "the mistress and controller of noxious poisons" as far back as 5000 years B.C.

According to some authorities, the Hebrew word Chasaph, translated in the Old Testament Scriptures as witch, meant poisoner. Scott states the witches of Scripture had probably some resemblance to those of ancient Europe, who, although their skill and power might be safely despised as long as they confined themselves to their charms and spells, were very apt to eke out their capacity for mischief by the use of actual poison; so that the epithet of sorceress and poisoner were almost synonymous.

The oldest Egyptian king, Menes, and Attalus Phylometer, the last king of Pergamus, were both learned in the knowledge of the properties of plants. The latter monarch also knew something of their medicinal uses, and was acquainted with henbane, aconite, hemlock, hellebore, etc. Other Egyptian rulers cultivated the art of medicine, and there is little doubt that, probably through the priests, who were the chief practitioners of the art of healing, they gathered a considerable knowledge of the properties of many poisonous and other herbs. Prussic acid was known to the Egyptians, and prepared by them in a diluted form, from the peach and other plants. It is highly probable, indeed, that the priests had some rudimentary knowledge of the process of distillation, and prepared this deadly liquid from peach leaves or stones, by that method. The "penalty of the peach" is alluded to in a papyrus now preserved in the Louvre, which points to the liquid being used as a death draught.

The ancient Greeks, like the Chinese of to-day, looked upon suicide, under certain conditions, as a noble act, for which poison was the usual medium. Their "death cup" was mainly composed of the juice or extract of a species of hemlock, called by them cicuta. The Chinese, from remote times, are supposed to have used gold as a poison, especially for suicidal purposes, and at the present day, when a high official or other individual puts an end to his life, it is always officially announced, "He has taken gold leaf"; a curious phrase, which probably has its origin in antiquity.

Nicander, of Colophon, a Greek physician, who lived 204-138 B.C., in his work on "Poisons and their Antidotes," the earliest on the subject known, describes the effects of snake venom and the properties of opium, henbane, colchicum, cantharides, hemlock, aconite, toxicum (probably the venom of the toad), buprestis, the salamander, the sea-hare, the leech, yew (decomposed), bull's blood, milk, and certain fungi, which he terms "evil fermentations of the earth"; and as antidotes for the same he mentions lukewarm oil, warm water, and mallow or linseed tea to excite vomiting. The same writer also made a rough classification of the poisons known in his time, twenty-two in all, and divided them into two classes-viz., "those which killed quickly," and "those which killed slowly."

Of the minerals, arsenic, antimony, mercury, gold, silver, copper, and lead were used by the Greeks; the antidote recommended in case of poisoning being hot oil, and other methods to induce vomiting and prevent the poison being absorbed into the system.

Bull's blood is classed as a poison by various ancient writers, and it is recorded that ?son, Midas King of Phrygia, Plutarch, and Themistocles, killed themselves by drinking bull's blood. It is probable that some strong poisonous vegetable substance, such as cicuta, was mixed with the blood.

Dioscorides throws a further light on the poisons of antiquity in his great work on Materia Medica, which for fifteen centuries or more remained the chief authority on that subject. He mentions cantharides, copper, mercury, lead, and arsenic. Among the animal poisons are included toads, salamanders, poisonous snakes, a peculiar kind of honey, and the blood of the ox, probably after it had turned putrid. The sea-hare is frequently alluded to by the ancient Greeks, and was evidently regarded by them as capable of producing a very powerful poison. Domitian is said to have administered it to Titus. It is supposed to have been one of the genus Aplysia, among the gasteropods, and is described by the old writers as a dreadful object, which was neither to be touched nor looked upon with safety.

Among the poisonous plants enumerated by Dioscorides are the poppy, black and white hellebore, henbane, mandragora, hemlock, elaterin, and the juices of species of euphorbia, and apocyne?. Medea is said to have been the first to introduce colchicum. The black and white hellebore were known to the Romans, and used by them as an insecticide, and Pliny states that the Gauls used a preparation of veratrum to poison their arrows. Arsenic was employed by the Greeks as a caustic, and for removing hair from the face; while copper, mercury, and lead were used in their medical treatment. The study of poisons was forbidden for a long period, and Galen mentions the fact that only a few philosophers dared treat the subjects in their works.

In the East, poisons have been used from remote times, not only for the destruction of human life, but also for destroying animals-arsenic, aconite, and opium being employed by the Asiatics for these purposes. The Hindoos have many strange traditions concerning poisons, some being attributed with the property of causing a lingering death, which can be controlled by the will of the poisoner. But this is doubtless more legendary than correct. One curious and mysterious substance mentioned by Blyth, and known in India as Mucor phycomyces, is stated to be a species of fungi. When the spores are administered in warm water they are said to attach themselves to the throat and rapidly develop and grow, with the result that in a few weeks, all the symptoms of consumption develop, and the victim is rapidly carried off by that fatal disease.

The early Hebrews were also acquainted with certain poisons, the words, "rosch" and "chema" being used by them as generic terms. Arsenic was known to them as "sam," aconite as "boschka," and ergot probably as "son."

The ancients attributed poisonous properties to certain bodies simply on account of their origin being mysterious and obscure, and many of these errors and traditions have been handed down for centuries. As an instance of this, the belief that diamond dust possessed deadly poisonous properties seems to have existed until recent times. Many mysterious deaths in the Middle Ages were attributed to it. There is little doubt that death might be caused by the mere mechanical effect of an insoluble powder of this kind, if it were possible to introduce it into the stomach in sufficient quantity, but powdered glass or sand would have the same effect as diamond dust, viz. in causing violent irritation of the stomach. Yet some of these old traditions have a substratum of fact.

The poisonous properties of the toad have long been regarded as fabulous, but recent investigation has proved that the skin of a species of toad secretes a poison, similar in action to digitalis.

The venom of the toad has had the reputation of possessing poisonous properties from a very early period, and was probably one of the earliest forms of animal poison known.

The old tradition, that King John was poisoned by a Friar who dropped a toad into his wine, was regarded as a ridiculous fable until some years ago, when it was discovered that the skin of the toad secretes a body, the active principle of which, "phrynin," is a poison of considerable power.

One of the most curious uses to which the toad has been put is recorded on a medical diploma now in the Library of Ferrara, which was granted to one Generoso Marini in 1642. Marini having made application for a Ferrarese diploma in medicine, the judges in whom the power of granting such degrees was invested, ordered him to exhibit some efficient proofs of his capability to practise the medical art.

Marini at once agreed to comply with their demand, and the result is recorded in his diploma, which was discovered by Cittadella in the archives of Ferrara, and is translated as follows:-

"Having publicly examined and approved the science and knowledge of medicine of Signor Generoso Marini, and his possession of the wonderful secret called 'Orvietano,' which he exhibited on the stage built in the centre of this our city of Ferrara, in presence of its entire population so remarkable for their civilization and learning, and in presence of many foreigners and other classes of people, we hereby certify that, also in our presence, as well as that of the city authorities, he took several living toads, not those of his own providing, but from a great number of toads which had been caught in fields in the locality by persons who were strangers to him, and which were only handed to him at the moment of making the experiment. An officer of the court then selected from the number of toads collected, five of the largest, which the said Generoso Marini placed on a bench before him, and in presence of all assembled spectators, he, with a large knife, cut all the said toads in half. Then, taking a drinking cup, he took in each hand one half of a dead toad, and squeezed from it all the juices and fluids it contained into the cup, and the same he did with the remainder. After mixing the contents together, he swallowed the whole, and then placing the cup on the bench he advanced to the edge of the stage, where for some minutes he remained stationary. Then he became pale as death and his limbs trembled, and his body began to swell in a frightful and terrible manner; and all the spectators began to believe that he would never recover from the poison he had swallowed, and that his death was certain. Suddenly, taking from a jar by his side some of his celebrated 'Orvietano,' he placed a portion of it in his mouth and swallowed it. Instantly, the effect of this wonderful medicine was to make him vomit the poison he had taken, and he stood before the spectators in the full enjoyment of health.[1]

"The populace applauded him highly for the indisputable proof he had given of his talent, and he then invited many of the most learned of those present to accompany him to his house, and he there showed them his dispensary as well as his collection of antidotes, and among them a powder made from little vipers, a powerful remedy for curing every sort of fever, as he had proved by different experiments he had made on people of quality and virtue, all of whom he had cured of the fever from which they were suffering, etc.

"In consequence of the rare talent exhibited by Signor Generoso Marini, and as a proof of our love and respect for his wisdom, we have resolved by the authority placed in our hands publicly to reward him with a diploma, so that he may be universally recognized, applauded, and respected. In witness thereof we have set our hands and the public seal of the municipality of Ferrara.

"Data in Ferrara con grandissimo applauso il di 26 Luglio, 1642.

"Joannes Cajetanus Modoni,

"Index sapientum Civitatis Ferrari.

"Franciscus Altramari,

"Cancellarius."

But although the toad under certain conditions was credited with poisonous properties, during the Middle Ages it was esteemed a valuable remedy for the plague, and was employed for that purpose in Austria as late as the year 1712.

Cantharides, or Spanish fly, was very commonly used as a poison in medi?val times, the usual method of administering being to chop it up and mix it with pepper. It is said to have been the first poison tried on the unfortunate Sir Thomas Overbury, although his murderers finally finished him off with corrosive sublimate. Poisoned rings are said to have been the invention of the Italians, who fashioned rings in which the poison was inserted in a receptacle where the jewel is usually set. Attached to the inner part of the ring was a sharp point which, when the hand of the wearer was grasped, scratched the flesh and injected the poison. Rings were also used for carrying strong poisons secretly-such as arsenic, or corrosive sublimate-and in this manner many were enabled to commit suicide after being imprisoned.

Hyoscyamus, commonly called henbane, is a herb which has been employed from remote times. Benedictus Crispus, Archbishop of Milan, in a work written shortly before A.D. 681, alludes to it under the name of hyoscyamus and symphoniaca, and in the tenth century its virtues are particularly recorded by Macer Floridus. In the early Anglo-Saxon works it is called henbell and sometimes belene. In a French herbal of the fifteenth century it is called hanibane or hanebane. From a very early period it has been employed as a sedative and anodyne, for producing sleep, although simple hallucinations sometimes accompany its use.

An old tradition states, that once in the refectory of an ancient monastery the monks were served with henbane, instead of some harmless root, in error by the cook. After partaking of the dish, they were seized with the most extraordinary hallucinations. At midnight one monk sounded the bell for matins, while others walked in the chapel and opened their books, but could not read. Others sang roystering drinking songs and performed mountebank antics, which convulsed the others with uncontrollable laughter, and the pious monastery for the nonce was turned into an asylum. Certain stones which were sold for large sums of money were supposed to change colour when brought near a poisonous substance, and they were consequently much sought after by high personages. The horn of the unicorn was said to become moist when placed near poisoned food. Bickman records his belief that several slow poisons were known to the ancients which cannot now be identified. The Carthaginians also seem to have been acquainted with similar poisons, and, according to tradition, administered some to Regulus, the Roman general. But we cannot endorse Bickman's belief.

An incident which happened to the army led by Mark Antony against the Parthians, and described by Plutarch, is said to have been caused by aconite. At one time during the expedition, "the soldiers being very short of provisions, sought for roots and pot-herbs ... and met one that brought on madness and death. The eater immediately lost all memory and knowledge, busying himself at the same time in turning and moving every stone he met with, as if he were on some important pursuit. The camp was full of unhappy men stooping to the ground, and digging up and removing stones, till at last they were carried off by bilious vomiting.... Whole numbers perished, and the Parthians still continued to harass them. Antony is said to have frequently exclaimed: 'Oh! the ten thousand!' alluding to the army which Xenophon led in retreat; both a longer way and through more numerous conflicts, and yet led in safety."

Nine active or virulent poisons are mentioned by most ancient writers on Indian medicine, many of which are at present not identified. Most of them are apparently varieties of aconite. Besides these, they employed opium, gunja, datura, roots of Nerium odorum and Gloriosa superba, the milky juices of Calotropis gigantea and Euphorbia neriifolia, white arsenic, orpiment, and the poison extracted from the fangs of serpents.

Most of the older Sanscrit MSS. are written on paper prepared with orpiment to preserve them from the ravages of insects. Three varieties of Datura yield atropine, a powerful poison. These plants were frequently employed in India for putting a sudden end to domestic quarrels, and to this practice may be traced the origin of the custom of "Suttee," or widow burning, as the Brahmins found from experience that, by making a wife's life conterminous with the husband's the average husband lived considerably longer.

It is worthy of note that the diamond was celebrated as a medicinal agent by the Hindoos, who prepared it by roasting seven times and then reducing it to powder. It was given in doses of one grain as a powerful tonic.

[1] The celebrated "Orvietano" was doubtless some preparation of antimony.

Among the ignorant, poisons have ever been closely associated with superstition, and thus we find in the dark ages, even among the more civilized nations of the West, a belief in the occult concerning those things the action of which they did not understand. To most of the poisonous herbs used by the ancients certain curious superstitions were attached. The mandrake, in particular, excited the greatest veneration on this account. It is supposed this plant is the same which the ancient Hebrews called Duda?m.

That these people held it in the highest esteem in the days of Jacob is evident from the notice of its having been found by Reuben, who carried it to his mother; and the inducement which tempted Leah to part with it proves the value then set upon this remarkable plant. It was believed to possess the property of making childless wives become mothers. Mandrake was among the more important drugs employed by the ancients for producing an?sthesia. Doses of the wine made from the root were administered before amputating a limb or the application of the hot iron cautery. Pliny says: "Mandrake is taken against serpents, and before cutting and puncture, lest they be felt. Sometimes the smell is sufficient." According to Apuleius, half an ounce of the wine would make a person insensible even to the pain of amputation. Lyman states it was this wine, "mingled with myrrh," that was offered to the Saviour on the Cross, it being commonly given to those who suffered death by crucifixion to allay in some degree their terrible agonies. In Shakespeare's time mandrake still kept its place in public estimation as a narcotic. Thus we have Cleopatra asking for the drug, that she may "sleep out this great gap of time" while her Antony is away; and Iago, when his poison begins to work in the mind of the Moor, exclaims-

"Not poppy, nor mandragora

Nor all the drowsy syrups of this world,

Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep."

Some of the old names applied to the plant, such as semihomo and anthropomorphon, refer to the appearance of the root, while the term "love-apples" applied to the fruit relates to their imaginary aphrodisiacal properties. It is mentioned in the Scriptures in connexion with such episodes. Josephus states "baaras" (supposed to be mandrake) was capable of expelling demons from those possessed. Demosthenes, the Athenian orator, is said to have compared his lethargic hearers to those who had eaten mandrake. Dioscorides states that "a drachm of mandragora taken in a draught, or eaten in a cake, causes infatuation, and takes away the use of reason." The Greeks bestowed on it the name of "Circeium" derived from the witch Circe. They believed that when the mandrake was dragged up from the earth, it gave a dreadful shriek, and struck the daring person dead who had had the presumption to pull it up. The method of obtaining it, therefore, was by fastening the plant to the tail of a dog, who thus drew the root from the ground. The shriek was supposed to be due to an evil spirit who dwelt in the plant. The Romans also were very particular in the manner in which they obtained the root. Pliny tells us that he who would undertake this office should stand with his back to the wind, and before he begins to dig, make three circles round the plant with the point of a sword, and then turning to the west proceed to take it up. The small roots, which are much twisted and gnarled, sometimes bear a resemblance to the form of man, and this was turned to account by some of the old German doctors, who fashioned them into rude images and sold them as preventives of evil and danger. They called them Abrunes. These images were regularly dressed every day and consulted as oracles and were manufactured in great numbers. They were introduced into England in the time of Henry VIII, and met with ready purchasers. To increase their value and importance, the roots were said by the vendors to be produced from the flesh of criminals which fell from the gibbet and that they only grew in such situations. Lord Bacon notices their use in the following paragraph-"Some plants there are, but rare, that have a morsie or downie root, and likewise that have a number of threads like beards, as mandrakes, whereof witches and impostours make an ugly image, giving it the form of a face at the top of the root, and these strings to make a broad beard down to the foot." Madame de Genlis states that "the mandrake roots should be wrapped in a sheet, for that then they will bring increasing good luck." The plant is still used medicinally in China, where it is said to be largely taken by the mandarins, who believe it will give them increased intellectual powers and prolong their lives. From recent investigation the activity of the mandrake root is proved to be due to an alkaloid called mandragorine.

The black hellebore, Melampus root or Christmas rose, another poisonous plant known to the ancients, was believed to have magical properties. It was called after Melampus, a great physician, who flourished at Pylos, about one hundred years after the time of Moses, or about one thousand five hundred and thirty years before the birth of Christ. He is reputed to have cured the daughters of Pr?tus, King of Argos, of mental derangement with hellebore. Pliny mentions that the daughters of Pr?tus were restored to their senses by drinking the milk of goats which had fed on hellebore. Black hellebore root was used by the ancients to purify their homes and to hallow their dwellings, and they believed that by strewing it about it would drive away evil spirits. This ceremony was performed with great devotion, and accompanied with the singing of solemn hymns. They also blessed their cattle in the same manner with hellebore to keep them free from spells of the wicked. For these purposes it was dug up with many religious ceremonies-such as drawing a circle round the plant with a sword; then, turning to the east, a humble prayer was finally offered up by the devotee, to Apollo and Aesculapius for leave to dig up the root. The flight of the eagle was particularly attended to during the ceremony, for when this bird approached near the spot during the celebration of the rite, it was considered so ominous as to predict the certain death of the person who uprooted the plant in the course of the year. Others ate garlic previous to the rite, which was supposed to counteract the poisonous effluvia of the plant. Dioscorides relates that when Carneades, the Cyrenaic philosopher, undertook to answer the books of Zeno, he sharpened his wit and quickened his spirit by purging his head with powdered hellebore. It is recorded that the Gauls never went to the chase without rubbing the point of their arrows with this herb, believing that it rendered all the game killed with them the more tender. It is of this plant Juvenal sarcastically observes: "Misers need a double dose of hellebore."

With several uncivilised nations in Africa, the practice of compelling persons accused of crime or witchcraft to undergo the ordeal of swallowing some vegetable poison is still carried on. For this purpose certain tribes in Western Africa use the Calabar bean, sometimes called the ordeal bean, which contains a powerful poisonous principle, called Physostigmine. It was customary, at one time, in Old Calabar, and the mouth of the Niger, where the plant grows, to destroy it whenever found, a few only being preserved to supply seeds for judicial purposes, and of these seeds the store was kept in the custody of the native chief. Witchcraft, indeed, may be said to play the chief part in the daily life of all African natives, and to witchcraft they attribute every ill that befalls them. Two classes of witchcraft are supposed to exist-the one practised secretly by evil-doers, and the other practised by the witch doctors with the view of destroying the effects of the former. Witch doctors are, in fact, the greatest power in the land; they hold the lives of all in their hands, and are daily employed to satisfy the passions of their neighbours. "According to native ideas," says one who has had a long experience among the native tribes, "death or sickness never occurs through natural causes, but is always the result of somebody's act. Whenever any one is accused of having practised witchcraft, or of having committed any other crime, Calabar bean or Muavi is used to decided the case. The taking of these is the great trial by ordeal, and, usually, except when the accuser is a witch doctor, accused and accuser have both to submit to the test. Chiefs, however, may appoint a deputy to undergo the ordeal in their stead. Muavi consists of a specially prepared drug, usually made by scraping the wood of a certain tree known to the witch doctors; this is mixed with water, and both parties swallow the decoction. In a very short time the drug begins to act. Vomiting sets in, followed by convulsions and death. Of course, in most cases the result depends on the dose given. Sometimes both accuser and accused are seized with vomiting; in that case the natives say that the medicine has been badly prepared, and the operation is repeated. At other times both die; in that case also the medicine was no good, but the trial cannot be renewed, as may be readily understood. When the guilt of one of the parties has been established by his death, his property is at once looted, his wife and children being killed. So great, however, is the faith of the natives in the infallibility of the Muavi test, and they so fully believe that in case of innocence they will be proof against the deadly effects of the drug, that they will never hesitate to submit themselves to the trial; in fact, they will frequently volunteer to go through it, and insist upon taking muavi even when falsely accused. From this account it will be easily seen that the witch doctor who prepares the muavi can easily get rid of any person he may wish. In some districts the drug used for the trial, instead of causing death, when it has not acted as an emetic, merely causes purging; but the result is the same, as the man is at once put to death." This is probably due to a weaker decoction of the drug having been prepared. The same traveller states, in many instances his own men have offered to take muavi in order to refute the slightest charge. Trial by ordeal, which still survives in the Dark Continent, was practised by other and more civilized nations in the early Christian era.

* * *

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 medi?val 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.'"

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