diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:15:05 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:15:05 -0700 |
| commit | ba4f69133ecd97bb995971673f5264d63faf3a35 (patch) | |
| tree | 547092ae98ee17aba3c7f49e1e01410858c7fc40 /old | |
Diffstat (limited to 'old')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/1996-04-ssacc10.txt | 8388 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/1996-04-ssacc10.zip | bin | 0 -> 176193 bytes |
2 files changed, 8388 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/old/1996-04-ssacc10.txt b/old/1996-04-ssacc10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3931bed --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1996-04-ssacc10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8388 @@ +Project Gutenberg Etext of She Stands Accused by Victor MacClure + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. We need your donations. + + +She Stands Accused + +by Victor MacClure + +April, 1996 [Etext #488] + + +Project Gutenberg Etext of She Stands Accused by Victor MacClure +*****This file should be named ssacc10.txt or ssacc10.zip****** + +Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, ssacc11.txt. +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, ssacc10a.txt. + + +We are now trying to release all our books one month in advance +of the official release dates, for time for better editing. + +Please note: neither this list nor its contents are final till +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. To be sure you have an +up to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes +in the first week of the next month. Since our ftp program has +a bug in it that scrambles the date [tried to fix and failed] a +look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a +new copy has at least one byte more or less. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +fifty hours is one conservative estimate for how long it we take +to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. This +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If our value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour this year as we release thirty-two text +files per month: or 400 more Etexts in 1996 for a total of 800. +If these reach just 10% of the computerized population, then the +total should reach 80 billion Etexts. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext +Files by the December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000=Trillion] +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only 10% of the present number of computer users. 2001 +should have at least twice as many computer users as that, so it +will require us reaching less than 5% of the users in 2001. + + +We need your donations more than ever! + + +All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/IBC", and are +tax deductible to the extent allowable by law ("IBC" is Illinois +Benedictine College). (Subscriptions to our paper newsletter go +to IBC, too) + +For these and other matters, please mail to: + +Project Gutenberg +P. O. Box 2782 +Champaign, IL 61825 + +When all other email fails try our Executive Director: +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +We would prefer to send you this information by email +(Internet, Bitnet, Compuserve, ATTMAIL or MCImail). + +****** +If you have an FTP program (or emulator), please +FTP directly to the Project Gutenberg archives: +[Mac users, do NOT point and click. . .type] + +ftp uiarchive.cso.uiuc.edu +login: anonymous +password: your@login +cd etext/etext90 through /etext96 +or cd etext/articles [get suggest gut for more information] +dir [to see files] +get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files] +GET INDEX?00.GUT +for a list of books +and +GET NEW GUT for general information +and +MGET GUT* for newsletters. + +**Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor** +(Three Pages) + + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you can distribute copies of this etext if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this etext on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG- +tm etexts, is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor +Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg Association at +Illinois Benedictine College (the "Project"). Among other +things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext +under the Project's "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] the Project (and any other party you may receive this +etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold the Project, its directors, +officers, members and agents harmless from all liability, cost +and expense, including legal fees, that arise directly or +indirectly from any of the following that you do or cause: +[1] distribution of this etext, [2] alteration, modification, +or addition to the etext, or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + etext or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word pro- + cessing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the etext (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the + net profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Association / Illinois + Benedictine College" within the 60 days following each + date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) + your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, +scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty +free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution +you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg +Association / Illinois Benedictine College". + +*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + + +Scanned with OmniPage Professional OCR software +donated by Caere Corporation, 1-800-535-7226. +Contact Mike Lough <Mikel@caere.com> + + + + + +SHE STANDS ACCUSED +BY VICTOR MacCLURE + + + + + +Being a Series of Accounts of the Lives and Deeds of +Notorious Women, Murderesses, Cheats, Cozeners, +on whom Justice was Executed, and of others who, +Accused of Crimes, were Acquitted at least in Law; +Drawn from Authenticated Sources + + + + + +TO RAFAEL SABATINI +TO WHOSE VIRTUES AS AN AUTHOR +AND AS A FRIEND THE WRITER WISHES +HIS BOOK WERE WORTHIER OF DEDICATION + + +I: INTRODUCTORY +II: A FAIR NECK FOR THE MAIDEN +III: THE COUNTESS AND THE COZENER +IV: A MODEL FOR MR HOGARTH +V: ALMOST A LADY +VI: ARSENIC A LA BRETONNE +VII: THE MERRY WIDOWS + INDEX + + + + + +INTRODUCTORY: I. + +I had a thought to call this book Pale Hands or Fair Hands +Imbrued--so easy it is to fall into the ghastly error of +facetiousness. + +Apart, however, from the desire to avoid pedant or puerile +humour, re-examination of my material showed me how near I had +been to crashing into a pitfall of another sort. Of the ladies +with whose encounters with the law I propose to deal several were +assoiled of the charges against them. Their hands, then--unless +the present ruddying of female fingernails is the revival of an +old fashion--were not pink-tipped, save, perhaps, in the way of +health; nor imbrued, except in soapsuds. My proposed +facetiousness put me in peril of libel. + +Interest in the criminous doings of women is so alive and avid +among criminological writers that it is hard indeed to find +material which has not been dealt with to the point of +exhaustion. Does one pick up in a secondhand bookshop a pamphlet +giving a verbatim report of a trial in which a woman is the +central figure, and does one flatter oneself that the find is +unique, and therefore providing of fresh fields, it is almost +inevitable that one will discover, or rediscover, that the case +has already been put to bed by Mr Roughead in his inimitable +manner. What a nose the man has! What noses all these +rechauffeurs of crime possess! To use a figure perhaps something +unmannerly, the pigs of Perigord, which, one hears, are trained +to hunt truffles, have snouts no keener. + +Suppose, again, that one proposes to deal with the peccancy of +women from the earliest times, it is hard to find a lady, even +one whose name has hitherto gleamed lurid in history, to whom +some modern writer has not contrived by chapter and verse to +apply a coat of whitewash. + +Locusta, the poisoner whom Agrippina, wanting to kill the Emperor +Claudius by slow degrees, called into service, and whose +technique Nero admired so much that he was fain to put her on his +pension list, barely escapes the deodorant. Messalina comes up +in memory. And then one finds M. Paul Moinet, in his historical +essays En Marge de l'histoire, gracefully pleading for the lady +as Messaline la calomniee--yes, and making out a good case for +her. The Empress Theodora under the pen of a psychological +expert becomes nothing more dire than a clever little whore +disguised in imperial purple. + +On the mention of poison Lucretia Borgia springs to mind. This +is the lady of whom Gibbon writes with the following ponderous +falsity: + + +In the next generation the house of Este was sullied by a +sanguinary and incestuous race in the nuptials of Alfonso I with +Lucretia, a bastard of Alexander VI, the Tiberius of Christian +Rome. This modern Lucretia might have assumed with more +propriety the name of Messalina, since the woman who can be +guilty, who can even be accused, of a criminal intercourse with a +father and two brothers must be abandoned to all the +licentiousness of a venal love. + + +That, if the phrase may be pardoned, is swatting a butterfly with +a sledge-hammer! Poor little Lucretia, described by the +excellent M. Moinet as a ``bon petit coeur,'' is enveloped in the +political ordure slung by venal pamphleteers at the masterful men +of her race. My friend Rafael Sabatini, than whom no man living +has dug deeper into Borgia history, explains the calumniation of +Lucretia in this fashion: Adultery and promiscuous intercourse +were the fashion in Rome at the time of Alexander VI. Nobody +thought anything of them. And to have accused the Borgia girl, +or her relatives, of such inconsiderable lapses would have been +to evoke mere shrugging. But incest, of course, was horrible. +The writers paid by the party antagonistic to the Borgia growth +in power therefore slung the more scurrile accusation. But there +is, in truth, just about as much foundation for the charge as +there is for the other, that Lucretia was a poisoner. The answer +to the latter accusation, says my same authority, may take the +form of a question: WHOM DID LUCRETIA POISON? As far as history +goes, even that written by the Borgia enemies, the reply is, +NOBODY! + +Were one content, like Gibbon, to take one's history like snuff +there would be to hand a mass of caliginous detail with which to +cause shuddering in the unsuspecting reader. But in mere +honesty, if in nothing else, it behoves the conscientious writer +to examine the sources of his information. The sources may +be--they too frequently are--contaminated by political rancour +and bias, and calumnious accusation against historical figures +too often is founded on mere envy. And then the rechauffeurs, +especially where rechauffage is made from one language to +another, have been apt (with a mercenary desire to give their +readers as strong a brew as possible) to attach the darkest +meanings to the words they translate. In this regard, and still +apropos the Borgias, I draw once again on Rafael Sabatini for an +example of what I mean. Touching the festivities celebrating +Lucretia's wedding in the Vatican, the one eyewitness whose +writing remains, Gianandrea Boccaccio, Ferrarese ambassador, in a +letter to his master says that amid singing and dancing, as an +interlude, a ``worthy'' comedy was performed. The diarist +Infessura, who was not there, takes it upon himself to describe +the comedy as ``lascivious.'' Lascivious the comedies of the +time commonly were, but later writers, instead of drawing their +ideas from the eyewitness, prefer the dark hints of Infessura, +and are persuaded that the comedy, the whole festivity, was +``obscene.'' Hence arises the notion, so popular, that the +second Borgia Pope delighted in shows which anticipated those of +the Folies Bergere, or which surpassed the danse du ventre in +lust-excitation. + +A statue was made by Guglielmo della Porta of Julia Farnese, +Alexander's beautiful second mistress. It was placed on the tomb +of her brother Alessandro (Pope Paul III). A Pope at a later +date provided the lady, portrayed in `a state of nature,' with a +silver robe--because, say the gossips, the statue was indecent. +Not at all: it was to prevent recurrence of an incident in which +the sculptured Julia took a static part with a German student +afflicted with sex-mania. + +I become, however, a trifle excursive, I think. If I do the +blame lies on those partisan writers to whom I have alluded. +They have a way of leading their incautious latter-day brethren +up the garden. They hint at flesh-eating lilies by the pond at +the path's end, and you find nothing more prone to sarcophagy +than harmless primulas. In other words, the beetle-browed +Lucretia, with the handy poison-ring, whom they promise you turns +out to be a blue-eyed, fair-haired, rather yielding little +darling, ultimately an excellent wife and mother, given to piety +and good works, used in her earlier years as a political +instrument by father and brother, and these two no worse than +masterful and ambitious men employing the political technique +common to their day and age. + + + +% II + +Messalina, Locusta, Lucretia, Theodora, they step aside in this +particular review of peccant women. Cleopatra, supposed to have +poisoned slaves in the spirit of scientific research, or perhaps +as punishment for having handed her the wrong lipstick, also is +set aside. It were supererogatory to attempt dealing with the +ladies mentioned in the Bible and the Apocrypha, such as Jael, +who drove the nail into the head of Sisera, or Judith, who cut +off the head of Holofernes. Their stories are plainly and +excellently told in the Scriptural manner, and the adding of +detail would be mere fictional exercise. Something, perhaps, +might be done for them by way of deducing their characters and +physical shortcomings through examination of their deeds and +motives--but this may be left to psychiatrists. There is room +here merely for a soupcon of psychology--just as much, in fact, +as may afford the writer an easy turn from one plain narrative to +another. You will have no more of it than amounts, say, to the +pinch of fennel that should go into the sauce for mackerel. + +Toffana, who in Italy supplied poison to wives aweary of their +husbands and to ladies beginning to find their lovers +inconvenient, and who thus at second hand murdered some six +hundred persons, has her attractions for the criminological +writer. The bother is that so many of them have found it out. +The scanty material regarding her has been turned over so often +that it has become somewhat tattered, and has worn rather thin +for refashioning. The same may be said for Hieronyma Spara, a +direct poisoner and Toffana's contemporary. + +The fashion they set passed to the Marquise de Brinvilliers, and +she, with La Vigoureux and La Voisin, has been written up so +often that the task of finding something new to say of her and +her associates looks far too formidable for a man as lethargic as +myself. + +In the abundance of material that criminal history provides about +women choice becomes difficult. There is, for example, a +plethora of women poisoners. Wherever a woman alone turns to +murder it is a hundred to one that she will select poison as a +medium. This at first sight may seem a curious fact, but there +is for it a perfectly logical explanation, upon which I hope +later to touch briefly. The concern of this book, however, is +not purely with murder by women, though murder will bulk largely. +Swindling will be dealt with, and casual allusion made to other +crimes. + +But take for the moment the women accused or convicted of +poisoning. What an array they make! What monsters of iniquity +many of them appear! Perhaps the record, apart from those set up +by Toffana and the Brinvilliers contingent, is held by the Van +der Linden woman of Leyden, who between 1869 and 1885 attempted +to dispose of 102 persons, succeeded with no less than +twenty-seven, and rendered at least forty-five seriously ill. +Then comes Helene Jegado, of France, who, according to one +account, with two more working years (eighteen instead of +sixteen), contrived to envenom twenty-six people, and attempted +the lives of twelve more. On this calculation she fails by one +to reach the der Linden record, but, even reckoning the two extra +years she had to work in, since she made only a third of the +other's essays, her bowling average may be said to be +incomparably better. + +Our own Mary Ann Cotton, at work between 1852 and 1873, comes in +third, with twenty-four deaths, at least known, as her bag. Mary +Ann operated on a system of her own, and many of her victims were +her own children. She is well worth the lengthier consideration +which will be given her in later pages. + +Anna Zwanziger, the earlier `monster' of Bavaria, arrested in +1809, was an amateur compared with those three. + +Mrs Susannah Holroyd, of Ashton-under-Lyne, charged in September +of 1816 at the Lancashire Assizes with the murder by poison of +her husband, her own son, and the infant child of Anna Newton, a +lodger of hers, was nurse to illegitimate children. She was +generally suspected of having murdered several of her charges, +but no evidence, as far as I can learn, was brought forward to +give weight to the suspicion at her trial. Then there were +Mesdames Flanagan and Higgins, found guilty, at Liverpool Assizes +in February 1884, of poisoning Thomas Higgins, husband of the +latter of the accused, by the administration of arsenic. The +ladies were sisters, living together in Liverpool. With them in +the house in Skirvington Street were Flanagan's son John, Thomas +Higgins and his daughter Mary, Patrick Jennings and his daughter +Margaret. + +John Flanagan died in December 1880. His mother drew the +insurance money. Next year Thomas Higgins married the younger of +the sisters, and in the year following Mary Higgins, his +daughter, died. Her stepmother drew the insurance money. The +year after that Margaret Jennings, daughter of the lodger, died. +Once again insurance money was drawn, this time by both sisters. + +Thomas Higgins passed away that same year in a house to which +what remained of the menage had removed. He was on the point of +being buried, as having died of dysentery due to alcoholism, when +the suspicions of his brother led the coroner to stop the +funeral. The brother had heard word of insurance on the life of +Thomas. A post-mortem revealed the fact that Thomas had actually +died of arsenic poisoning; upon which discovery the bodies of +John Flanagan, Mary Higgins, and Margaret Jennings were exhumed +for autopsy, which revealed arsenic poisoning in each case. The +prisoners alone had attended the deceased in the last illnesses. +Theory went that the poison had been obtained by soaking +fly-papers. Mesdames Flanagan and Higgins were executed at +Kirkdale Gaol in March of 1884. + +Now, these are two cases which, if only minor in the wholesale +poisoning line when compared with the Van der Linden, Jegado, and +Cotton envenomings, yet have their points of interest. In both +cases the guilty were so far able to banish ``all trivial fond +records'' as to dispose of kindred who might have been dear to +them: Mrs Holroyd of husband and son, with lodger's daughter as +makeweight; the Liverpool pair of nephew, husband, stepdaughter +(or son, brother-in-law, and stepniece, according to how you look +at it), with again the unfortunate daughter of a lodger thrown +in. If they ``do things better on the Continent''--speaking +generally and ignoring our own Mary Ann--there is yet temptation +to examine the lesser native products at length, but space and +the scheme of this book prevent. In the matter of the Liverpool +Locustas there is an engaging speculation. It was brought to my +notice by Mr Alan Brock, author of By Misadventure and Further +Evidence. Just how far did the use of flypapers by Flanagan and +Higgins for the obtaining of arsenic serve as an example to Mrs +Maybrick, convicted of the murder of her husband in the same city +five years later? + +The list of women poisoners in England alone would stretch +interminably. If one were to confine oneself merely to those +employing arsenic the list would still be formidable. Mary +Blandy, who callously slew her father with arsenic supplied her +by her lover at Henley-on-Thames in 1751, has been a subject for +many criminological essayists. That she has attracted so much +attention is probably due to the double fact that she was a girl +in a very comfortable way of life, heiress to a fortune of +L10,000, and that contemporary records are full and accessible. +But there is nothing essentially interesting about her case to +make it stand out from others that have attracted less notice in +a literary way. Another Mary, of a later date, Edith Mary Carew, +who in 1892 was found guilty by the Consular Court, Yokohama, of +the murder of her husband with arsenic and sugar of lead, was an +Englishwoman who might have given Mary Blandy points in several +directions. + +When we leave the arsenical-minded and seek for cases where other +poisons were employed there is still no lack of material. There +is, for example, the case of Sarah Pearson and the woman Black, +who were tried at Armagh in June 1905 for the murder of the old +mother of the latter. The old woman, Alice Pearson (Sarah was +her daughter-in-law), was in possession of small savings, some +forty pounds, which aroused the cupidity of the younger women. +Their first attempt at murder was with metallic mercury. It +rather failed, and the trick was turned by means of +three-pennyworth of strychnine, bought by Sarah and mixed with +the old lady's food. The murder might not have been discovered +but for the fact that Sarah, who had gone to Canada, was arrested +in Montreal for some other offence, and made a confession which +implicated her husband and Black. A notable point about the case +is the amount of metallic mercury found in the old woman's body: +296 grains--a record. + +Having regard to the condition of life in which these Irishwomen +lived, there is nothing, to my mind, in the fact that they +murdered for forty pounds to make their crime more sordid than +that of Mary Blandy. + +Take, again, the case of Mary Ansell, the domestic servant, who, +at Hertford Assizes in June 1899, was found guilty of the murder +of her sister, Caroline, by the administration of phosphorus +contained in a cake. Here the motive for the murder was the +insurance made by Ansell upon the life of her sister, a young +woman of weak intellect confined in Leavesden Asylum, Watford. +The sum assured was only L22 10s. If Mary Blandy poisoned her +father in order to be at liberty to marry her lover, Cranstoun, +and to secure the fortune Cranstoun wanted with her, wherein does +she shine above Mary Ansell, a murderess who not only poisoned +her sister, but nearly murdered several of her sister's +fellow-inmates of the asylum, and all for twenty odd pounds? +Certainly not in being less sordid, certainly not in being more +`romantic.' + +There is, at root, no case of murder proved and accepted as such +which does not contain its points of interest for the +criminological writer. There is, indeed, many a case, not only +of murder but of lesser crime, that has failed to attract a lot +of attention, but that yet, in affording matter for the student +of crime and criminal psychology, surpasses others which, very +often because there has been nothing of greater public moment at +the time, were boomed by the Press into the prominence of causes +celebres. + +There is no need then, after all, for any crime writer who wants +to fry a modest basket of fish to mourn because Mr Roughead, Mr. +Beaufroy Barry, Mr Guy Logan, Miss Tennyson Jesse, Mr Leonard R. +Gribble, and others of his estimable fellows seem to have swiped +all the sole and salmon. It may be a matter for envy that Mr +Roughead, with his uncanny skill and his gift in piquant sauces, +can turn out the haddock and hake with all the delectability of +sole a la Normande. The sigh of envy will merge into an +exhalation of joy over the artistry of it. And one may turn, +wholeheartedly and inspired, to see what can be made of one's own +catch of gudgeon. + + + +% III + +``More deadly than the male.'' + +Kipling's line about the female of the species has been quoted, +particularly as a text for dissertation on the female criminal, +perhaps rather too often. There is always a temptation to use +the easy gambit. + +It is quite probable that there are moments in a woman's life +when she does become more deadly than the male. The probability +is one which no man of age and experience will lack instance for +making a fact. Without seeking to become profound in the matter +I will say this: it is but lightly as compared with a man that +one need scratch a woman to come on the natural creature. + +Now, your natural creature, not inhibited by reason, lives by +theft, murder, and dissimulation. It lives, even as regards the +male, but for one purpose: to continue its species. Enrage a +woman, then, or frighten her into the natural creature, and she +will discard all those petty rules invented by the human male for +his advantage over, and his safety from, the less disciplined +members of the species. All that stuff about `honour,' +`Queensberry rules,' `playing the game,' and what not will go by +the board. And she will fight you with tooth and talon, with +lies, with blows below the belt--metaphorically, of course. + +It may well be that you have done nothing more than hurt her +pride--the civilized part of her. But instinctively she will +fight you as the mother animal, either potentially or in being. +It will not occur to her that she is doing so. Nor will it occur +to you. But the fact that she is fighting at all will bring it +about, for fighting to any female animal means defence of her +young. She may not have any young in being. That does not +affect the case. She will fight for the ova she carries, for the +ova she has yet to develop. Beyond all reason, deep, instinct +deep, within her she is the carrier of the race. This instinct +is so profound that she will have no recollection in a crisis of +the myriads of her like, but will think of herself as the race's +one chance to persist. Dangerous? Of course she's dangerous--as +dangerous as Nature! Just as dangerous, just as self-centred, as +in its small way is that vegetative organism the volvox, which, +when food is scarce and the race is threatened, against possible +need of insemination, creates separate husband cells to starve in +clusters, while `she' hogs all the food-supply for the production +of eggs. + +This small flight into biology is made merely for the dim light +it may cast on the Kipling half-truth. It is not made to explain +why women criminals are more deadly, more cruel, more deeply lost +in turpitude, than their male colleagues. But it may help to +explain why so many crime-writers, following Lombroso, THINK the +female more deadly. + +There is something so deeply shocking in the idea of a woman +being other than kind and good, something so antagonistic to the +smug conception of Eve as the ``minist'ring angel, thou,'' that +leaps to extremes in expression are easy. + +A drunken woman, however, and for example, is not essentially +more degraded than a drunken man. This in spite of popular +belief. A nymphomaniac is not essentially more degraded than a +brothel-haunting male. It may be true that moral sense decays +more quickly in a woman than in a man, that the sex-ridden or +drink-avid woman touches the deeps of degradation more quickly, +but the reasons for this are patent. They are economic reasons +usually, and physical, and not adherent to any inevitably weaker +moral fibre in the woman. + +Women as a rule have less command of money than men. If they +earn what they spend they generally have to seek their +satisfactions cheaply; and, of course, since their powers of +resistance to the debilitating effects of alcohol are commonly +less than those of men, they more readily lose physical tone. +With loss of health goes loss of earning power, loss of caste. +The descent, in general, must be quicker. It is much the same in +nymphomania. Unless the sex-avid woman has a decent income, such +as will provide her with those means whereby women preserve the +effect of attractiveness, she must seek assuagement of her +sex-torment with men less and less fastidious. + +But it is useless and canting to say that peccant women are worse +than men. If we are kind we say so merely because we are more +apprehensive for them. Safe women, with but rare exceptions, are +notably callous about their sisters astray, and the ``we'' I have +used must be taken generally to signify men. We see the danger +for erring women, danger economic and physical. Thinking in +terms of the phrase that ``a woman's place is the home,'' we +wonder what will become of them. We wonder anxiously what man, +braver or less fastidious than ourselves, will accept the burden +of rescuing them, give them the sanctuary of a home. We see them +as helpless, pitiable beings. We are shocked to see them fall so +low. + +There is something of this rather maudlin mentality, generally +speaking, in our way of regarding women criminals. To think, we +say, that a WOMAN should do such things! + +But why should we be more shocked by the commission of a crime by +a woman than by a man--even the cruellest of crimes? Take the +male and female in feral creation, and there is nothing to choose +between them in the matter of cruelty. The lion and the lioness +both live by murder, and until gravidity makes her slow for the +chase the breeding female is by all accounts the more dangerous. +The she-bear will just as readily eat up a colony of grubs or +despoil the husbandry of the bees as will her mate. If, then, +the human animal drops the restraints imposed by law, reverting +thereby to the theft, murder, and cunning of savagery, why should +it be shocking that the female should equal the male in +callousness? Why should it be shocking should she even surpass +the male? It is quite possible that, since for physiological +reasons she is nearer to instinctive motivation than the male, +she cannot help being more ruthless once deterrent inhibition has +been sloughed. But is she in fact more dangerous, more deadly as +a criminal, than the male? + +Lombroso--vide Mr Philip Beaufroy Barry in his essay on Anna +Zwanziger--tells us that some of the methods of torture employed +by criminal women are so horrible that they cannot be described +without outraging the laws of decency. Less squeamish than +Lombroso or Mr Barry, I gather aloud that the tortures have to do +with the organs of generation. But male savages in African and +American Indian tribes have a punishment for adulterous women +which will match anything in that line women have ever achieved, +and men in England itself have wreaked perverted vengeance on +women in ways indescribable too. Though it may be granted that +pain inflicted through the genitals is particularly sickening, +pain is pain all over the body, and must reach what might be +called saturation-point wherever inflicted. And as regards the +invention of sickening punishment we need go no farther afield in +search for ingenuity than the list of English kings. Dirty Jamie +the Sixth of Scotland and First of England, under mask of +retributive justice, could exercise a vein of cruelty that might +have turned a Red Indian green with envy. Moreover, doesn't our +word expressing cruelty for cruelty's sake derive from the name +of a man--the Marquis de Sade? + +I am persuaded that the reason why so many women murderers have +made use of poison in their killings is primarily a simple one, a +matter of physique. The average murderess, determined on the +elimination of, for example, a husband, must be aware that in +physical encounter she would have no chance. Then, again, there +is in women an almost inborn aversion to the use of weapons. +Once in a way, where the murderess was of Amazonian type, +physical means have been employed for the slaying. + +In this regard Kate Webster, who in 1879 at Richmond murdered and +dismembered Mrs Julia Thomas, springs to mind. She was, from all +accounts, an exceedingly virile young woman, strong as a pony, +and with a devil of a temper. Mr Elliot O'Donnell, dealing with +her in his essay in the ``Notable British Trials'' series, seems +to be rather at a loss, considering her lack of physical beauty, +to account for her attractiveness to men and to her own sex. But +there is no need to account for it. Such a thing is no +phenomenon. + +I myself, sitting in a taberna in a small Spanish port, was once +pestered by a couple of British seamen to interpret for them in +their approaches to the daughter of the house. This woman, who +had a voice like a raven, seemed able to give quick and snappy +answers to the chaff by frequenters of the taberna. Few people +in the day-time, either men or women, would pass the house if +'Fina happened to be showing without stopping to have a word with +her. She was not at all gentle in manner, but children ran to +her. And yet, without being enormously fat, 'Fina must have +weighed close on fifteen stone. She had forearms and biceps like +a coal-heaver's. She was black-haired, heavy-browed, +squish-nosed, moled, and swarthy, and she had a beard and +moustache far beyond the stage of incipiency. Yet those two +British seamen, fairly decent men, neither drunk nor brutish, +could not have been more attracted had 'Fina had the beauty of +the Mona Lisa herself. I may add that there were other women +handy and that the seamen knew of them. + +This in parenthesis, I hope not inappropriately. + +Where the selected victim, or victims, is, or are, feeble-bodied +you will frequently find the murderess using physical means to +her end. Sarah Malcolm, whose case will form one of the chief +features of this volume, is an instance in point. Marguerite +Diblanc, who strangled Mme Reil in the latter's house in Park +Lane on a day in April 1871, is another. Amelia Dyer, the +baby-farmer, also strangled her charges. Elizabeth Brownrigg +(1767) beat the feeble Mary Clifford to death. I do not know +that great physical difference existed to the advantage of the +murderess between her and her older victim, Mrs Phoebe Hogg, who, +with her baby, was done to death by Mrs Pearcy in October 1890, +but the fact that Mrs Hogg had been battered about the head, and +that the head had been almost severed from the body, would seem +to indicate that the murderess was the stronger of the two women. +The case of Belle Gunness (treated by Mr George Dilnot in his +Rogues March[1]) might be cited. Fat, gross-featured, far from +attractive though she was, her victims were all men who had +married or had wanted to marry her. Mr Dilnot says these victims +``almost certainly numbered more than a hundred.'' She murdered +for money, using chloral to stupefy, and an axe for the actual +killing. She herself was slain and burned, with her three +children, by a male accomplice whom she was planning to dispose +of, he having arrived at the point of knowing too much. 1907 was +the date of her death at La Porte, U.S.A. + + +[1] Bles, 1934. + + + +It occurs when the female killer happens to be dramatical-minded +that she will use a pistol. Mme Weissmann-Bessarabo, who, with +her daughter, shot her husband in Paris (August 1920), is of this +kind. She and the daughter, Paule-Jacques, seem to have seen +themselves as wild, wild women from the Mexico where they had +sometime lived, and were always flourishing revolvers. + +I would say that the use of poison so much by women murderers has +reason, first, in the lack of physique for violent methods, but I +would put alongside that reason this other, that women poisoners +usually have had a handy proximity to their victims. They have +had contact with their victims in an attendant capacity. I have +a suspicion, moreover, that a good number of women poisoners +actually chose the medium as THE KINDEST WAY. Women, and I might +add not a few men, who would be terribly shocked by sight or news +of a quick but violent death, can contemplate with relative +placidity a lingering and painful fatal illness. Propose to a +woman the destruction of a mangy stray cat or of an incurably +diseased dog by means of a clean, well-placed shot, and the +chances are that she will shudder. But--no lethal chamber being +available--suggest poison, albeit unspecified, and the method +will more readily commend itself. This among women with no +murderous instincts whatever. + +I have a fancy also that in some cases of murder by poison, not +only by women, the murderer has been able to dramatize herself or +himself ahead as a tender, noble, and self-sacrificing attendant +upon the victim. No need here, I think, to number the cases +where the ministrations of murderers to their victims have +aroused the almost tearful admiration of beholders. + +I shall say nothing of the secrecy of the poison method, of the +chance which still exists, in spite of modern diagnosis, that the +illness induced by it will pass for one arising from natural +causes. This is ground traversed so often that its features are +as familiar as those of one's own house door. Nor shall I say +anything of the ease with which, even in these days, the +favourite poison of the woman murderer, arsenic, can be obtained +in one form or another. + +One hears and reads, however, a great deal about the sense of +power which gradually steals upon the poisoner. It is a +speculation upon which I am not ready to argue. There is, +indeed, chapter and verse for believing that poisoners have +arrived at a sense of omnipotence. But if Anna Zwanziger (here I +quote from Mr Philip Beaufroy Barry's essay on her in his Twenty +Human Monsters), ``a day or two before the execution, smiled and +said it was a fortunate thing for many people that she was to +die, for had she lived she would have continued to poison men and +women indiscriminately''; if, still according to the same writer, +``when the arsenic was found on her person after the arrest, she +seized the packet and gloated over the powder, looking at it, the +chronicler assures us, as a woman looks at her lover''; and if, +``when the attendants asked her how she could have brought +herself calmly to kill people with whom she was living--whose +meals and amusements she shared--she replied that their faces +were so stupidly healthy and happy that she desired to see them +change into faces of pain and despair,'' I will say this in no +way goes to prove the woman criminal to be more deadly than the +male. This ghoulish satisfaction, with the conjectured feeling +of omnipotence, is not peculiar to the woman poisoner. Neill +Cream had it. Armstrong had it. Wainewright, with his reason +for poisoning Helen Abercrombie--``Upon my soul I don't know, +unless it was that her legs were too thick''--is quite on a par +with Anna Zwanziger. The supposed sense of power does not even +belong exclusively to the poisoner. Jack the Ripper manifestly +had something of the same idea about his use of the knife. + +As a monster in mass murder against Mary Ann Cotton I will set +you the Baron Gilles de Rais, with his forty flogged, outraged, +obscenely mutilated and slain children in one of his castles +alone--his total of over two hundred children thus foully done to +death. I will set you Gilles against anything that can be +brought forward as a monster in cruelty among women. + +Against the hypocrisy of Helene Jegado I will set you the +sanctimonious Dr Pritchard, with the nauseating entry in his +diary (quoted by Mr Roughead) recording the death of the wife he +so cruelly murdered: + + +March 1865, 18, Saturday. Died here at 1 A.M. Mary Jane, my own +beloved wife, aged thirty-eight years. No torment surrounded her +bedside [the foul liar!]--but like a calm peaceful lamb of God +passed Minnie away. May God and Jesus, Holy Ghost, one in three, +welcome Minnie! Prayer on prayer till mine be o'er; everlasting +love. Save us, Lord, for Thy dear Son! + + +Against the mean murders of Flanagan and Higgins I will set you +Mr Seddon and Mr Smith of the ``brides in the bath.'' + + + +% IV + +I am conscious that in arguing against the ``more deadly than the +male'' conception of the woman criminal I am perhaps doing my +book no great service. It might work for its greater popularity +if I argued the other way, making out that the subjects I have +chosen were monsters of brutality, with arms up to the shoulders +in blood, that they were prodigies of iniquity and cunning, +without bowels, steeped in hypocrisy, facinorous to a degree +never surpassed or even equalled by evil men. It may seem that, +being concerned to strip female crime of the lurid preeminence so +commonly given it, I have contrived beforehand to rob the ensuing +pages of any richer savour they might have had. But I don't, +myself, think so. + +If these women, some of them, are not greater monsters than their +male analogues, monsters they still remain. If they are not, +others of them, greater rogues and cheats than males of like +criminal persuasion, cheats and rogues they are beyond cavil. +The truth of the matter is that I loathe the use of superlatives +in serious works on crime. I will read, I promise you, anything +decently written in a fictional way about `master' crooks, +`master' killers, kings, queens, princes, and a whole peerage of +crime, knowing very well that never yet has a `master' criminal +had any cleverness but what a novelist gave him. But in works on +crime that pretend to seriousness I would eschew, pace Mr Leonard +R. Gribble, all `queens' and other honorifics in application to +the lost men and women with whom such works must treat. There is +no romance in crime. Romance is life gilded, life idealized. +Crime is never anything but a sordid business, demonstrably poor +in reward to its practitioners. + +But, sordid or not, crime has its human interest. Its +practitioners are still part of life, human beings, different +from law-abiding humanity by God-alone-knows-what freak of +heredity or kink in brain convolution. I will not ask the +reader, as an excuse for my book, to view the criminal with the +thought attributed to John Knox: + +``There, but for the Grace of God, goes ----'' Because the +phrase might as well be used in contemplation of John D. +Rockefeller or Augustus John or Charlie Chaplin or a man with a +wooden leg. I do not ask that you should pity these women with +whom I have to deal, still less that you should contemn them. +Something between the two will serve. I write the book because I +am interested in crime myself, and in the hope that you'll like +the reading as much as I like the writing of it. + + + + +II. A FAIR NECK FOR THE MAIDEN + +In her long history there can have been few mornings upon which +Edinburgh had more to offer her burghers in the way of gossip and +rumour than on that of the 1st of July, 1600. In this `gate' and +that `gate,' as one may imagine, the douce citizens must have +clustered and broke and clustered, like eddied foam on a spated +burn. By conjecture, as they have always been a people apt to +take to the streets upon small occasion as on large, it is not +unlikely that the news which was to drift into the city some +thirty-five days later--namely, that an attempt on the life of +his Sacred Majesty, the High and Mighty (and Rachitic) Prince, +James the Sixth of Scotland, had been made by the brothers +Ruthven in their castle of Gowrie--it is not unlikely that the +first buzz of the Gowrie affair caused no more stir, for the time +being at any rate, than the word which had come to those +Edinburgh folk that fine morning of the first day in July. The +busier of the bodies would trot from knot to knot, anxious to +learn and retail the latest item of fact and fancy regarding the +tidings which had set tongues going since the early hours. +Murder, no less. + +If the contemporary juridical records, even what is left of them, +be a criterion, homicide in all its oddly named forms must have +been a commonplace to those couthie lieges of his Slobberiness, +King Jamie. It is hard to believe that murder, qua murder, could +have been of much more interest to them than the fineness of the +weather. We have it, however, on reasonable authority, that the +murder of the Laird of Warriston did set the people of ``Auld +Reekie'' finely agog. + +John Kincaid, of Warriston, was by way of being one of +Edinburgh's notables. Even at that time his family was +considered to be old. He derived from the Kincaids of Kincaid, +in Stirlingshire, a family then in possession of large estates in +that county and here and there about Lothian. His own property +of Warriston lay on the outskirts of Edinburgh itself, just above +a mile from Holyroodhouse. Notable among his possessions was one +which he should, from all accounts, dearly have prized, but which +there are indications he treated with some contumely. This was +his wife, Jean Livingstone, a singularly beautiful girl, no more +than twenty-one years of age at the time when this story opens. +Jean, like her husband, was a person of good station indeed. She +was a daughter of the Laird of Dunipace, John Livingstone, and +related through him and her mother to people of high +consideration in the kingdom. + +News of the violent death of John Kincaid, which had taken place +soon after midnight, came quickly to the capital. Officers were +at once dispatched. Small wonder that the burghers found +exercise for their clacking tongues from the dawning, for the +lovely Jean was taken by the officers `red-hand,' as the phrase +was, for the murder of her husband. With her to Edinburgh, under +arrest, were brought her nurse and two other servingwomen. + +To Pitcairn, compiler of Criminal Trials in Scotland, from +indications in whose account of the murder I have been set on the +hunt for material concerning it, I am indebted for the +information that Jean and her women were taken red-hand. But I +confess being at a loss to understand it. Warriston, as +indicated, stood a good mile from Edinburgh. The informant +bringing word of the deed to town, even if he or she covered the +distance on horseback, must have taken some time in getting the +proper authorities to move. Then time would elapse in quantity +before the officers dispatched could be at the house. They +themselves could hardly have taken the Lady Warriston red-hand, +because in the meantime the actual perpetrator of the murder, a +horse-boy named Robert Weir, in the employ of Jean's father, had +made good his escape. As a fact, he was not apprehended until +some time afterwards, and it would seem, from the records given +in the Pitcairn Trials, that it was not until four years later +that he was brought to trial. + +A person taken red-hand, it would be imagined, would be one found +in such circumstances relating to a murder as would leave no +doubt as to his or her having ``airt and pairt'' in the crime. +Since it must have taken the officers some time to reach the +house, one of two things must have happened. Either some +officious person or persons, roused by the killing, which, as we +shall see, was done with no little noise, must have come upon +Jean and her women immediately upon the escape of Weir, and have +detained all four until the arrival of the officers, or else Jean +and her women must have remained by the dead man in terror, and +have blurted out the truth of their complicity when the officers +appeared. + +Available records are irritatingly uninformative upon the arrest +of the Lady Warriston. Pitcairn himself, in 1830, talks of his +many ``fruitless searches'' through the Criminal Records of the +city of Edinburgh, the greater part of which are lost, and +confesses his failure to come on any trace of the actual +proceedings in this case, or in the case of Robert Weir. For +this reason the same authority is at a loss to know whether the +prisoners were immediately put to the knowledge of an assize, +being taken ``red-hand,'' without the formality of being served a +``dittay'' (as who should say an indictment), as in ordinary +cases, before the magistrates of Edinburgh, or else sent for +trial before the baron bailie of the regality of Broughton, in +whose jurisdiction Warriston was situated. + +It would perhaps heighten the drama of the story if it could be +learned what Jean and her women did between the time of the +murder and the arrest. It would seem, however, that the Lady +Warriston had some intention of taking flight with Weir. One is +divided between an idea that the horse-boy did not want to be +hampered and that he was ready for self-sacrifice. ``You shall +tarry still,'' we read that he said; ``and if this matter come +not to light you shall say, `He died in the gallery,' and I shall +return to my master's service. But if it be known I shall fly, +and take the crime on me, and none dare pursue you!'' + +It was distinctly a determined affair of murder. The loveliness +of Jean Livingstone has been so insisted upon in many Scottish +ballads,[2] and her conduct before her execution was so saintly, +that one cannot help wishing, even now, that she could have +escaped the scaffold. But there is no doubt that, incited by the +nurse, Janet Murdo, she set about having her husband killed with +a rancour which was very grim indeed. + + +[2] A stanza in one ballad runs: + + ``She has twa weel-made feet; + Far better is her hand; + She's jimp about the middle + As ony willy wand.'' + + + +The reason for Jean's hatred of her husband appears in the dittay +against Robert Weir. ``Forasmuch,'' it runs, translated to +modern terms, + + +as whilom Jean Livingstone, Goodwife of Warriston, having +conceived a deadly rancour, hatred, and malice against whilom +John Kincaid, of Warriston, for the alleged biting of her in the +arm, and striking her divers times, the said Jean, in the month +of June, One Thousand Six Hundred Years, directed Janet Murdo, +her nurse, to the said Robert [Weir], to the abbey of +Holyroodhouse, where he was for the time, desiring him to come +down to Warriston, and speak with her, anent the cruel and +unnatural taking away of her said husband's life. + + +And there you have it. If the allegation against John Kincaid +was true it does not seem that he valued his lovely wife as he +ought to have done. The striking her ``divers times'' may have +been an exaggeration. It probably was. Jean and her women would +want to show there had been provocation. (In a ballad he is +accused of having thrown a plate at dinner in her face.) But +there is a naivete, a circumstantial air, about the ``biting of +her in the arm'' which gives it a sort of genuine ring. How one +would like to come upon a contemporary writing which would throw +light on the character of John Kincaid! Growing sympathy for +Jean makes one wish it could be found that Kincaid deserved all +he got. + +Here and there in the material at hand indications are to be +found that the Lady of Warriston had an idea she might not come +so badly off on trial. But even if the King's Majesty had been +of clement disposition, which he never was, or if her judges had +been likely to be moved by her youth and beauty, there was +evidence of such premeditation, such fixity of purpose, as would +no doubt harden the assize against her. + +Robert Weir was in service, as I have said, with Jean +Livingstone's father, the Laird of Dunipace. It may have been +that he knew Jean before her marriage. He seems, at any rate, to +have been extremely willing to stand by her. He was fetched by +the nurse several times from Holyrood to Warriston, but failed to +have speech with the lady. On the 30th of June, however, the +Lady Warriston having sent the nurse for him once again, he did +contrive to see Jean in the afternoon, and, according to the +dittay, ``conferred with her, concerning the cruel, unnatural, +and abominable murdering of the said whilom John Kincaid.'' + +The upshot of the conference was that Weir was secretly led to a +``laigh'' cellar in the house of Warriston, to await the +appointed time for the execution of the murder. + +Weir remained in the cellar until midnight. Jean came for him at +that hour and led him up into the hall. Thence the pair +proceeded to the room in which John Kincaid was lying asleep. It +would appear that they took no great pains to be quiet in their +progress, for on entering the room they found Kincaid awakened +``be thair dyn.'' + +I cannot do better at this point than leave description of the +murder as it is given in the dittay against Weir. The editor of +Pitcairn's Trials remarks in a footnote to the dittay that ``the +quaintness of the ancient style even aggravates the horror of the +scene.'' As, however, the ancient style may aggravate the reader +unacquainted with Scots, I shall English it, and give the +original rendering in a footnote: + + +And having entered within the said chamber, perceiving the said +whilom John to be wakened out of his sleep by their din, and to +pry over his bed-stock, the said Robert came then running to him, +and most cruelly, with clenched fists, gave him a deadly and +cruel stroke on the jugular vein, wherewith he cast the said +whilom John to the ground, from out his bed; and thereafter +struck him on his belly with his feet; whereupon he gave a great +cry. And the said Robert, fearing the cry should have been +heard, he thereafter, most tyrannously and barbarously, with his +hand, gripped him by the throat, or weasand, which he held fast a +long time, while [or until] he strangled him; during the which +time the said John Kincaid lay struggling and fighting in the +pains of death under him. And so the said whilom John was +cruelly murdered and slain by the said Robert.[3] + + +[3] And haifing enterit within the faid chalmer, perfaving the +faid vmqle Johnne to be walknit out of his fleip, be thair dyn, +and to preife ouer his bed ftok, the faid Robert cam than rynnand +to him, and maift crewallie, with thair faldit neiffis gaif him +ane deidlie and crewall straik on the vane-organe, quhairwith he +dang the faid vmqle Johnne to the grund, out-ouer his bed; and +thaireftir, crewallie ftrak him on bellie with his feit; +quhairvpoun he gaif ane grit cry: And the faid Robert, feiring +the cry fould haif bene hard, he thaireftir, maift tyrannouflie +and barbarouflie, with his hand, grippit him be the thrott or +waifen, quhilk he held faft ane lang tyme quhill he wirreit him; +during the quhilk tyme, the faid Johnne Kincaid lay ftruggilling +and fechting in the panes of daith vnder him. And fa, the faid +vmqle Johnne was crewallie murdreit and flaine be the faid +Robert.'' + + + +It will be seen that Robert Weir evolved a murder technique +which, as Pitcairn points out, was to be adopted over two +centuries later in Edinburgh at the Westport by Messrs Burke and +Hare. + + + +% II + +Lady Warriston was found guilty, and four days after the murder, +on the 5th of July, was taken to the Girth Cross of Holyrood, at +the foot of the Canongate, and there decapitated by that machine +which rather anticipated the inventiveness of Dr Guillotin--``the +Maiden.'' At the same time, four o'clock in the morning, Janet +Murdo, the nurse, and one of the serving-women accused with her +as accomplices were burned on the Castle Hill of the city. + +There is something odd about the early hour at which the +executions took place. The usual time for these affairs was much +later in the day, and it is probable that the sentence against +Jean ran that she should be executed towards dusk on the 4th of +the month. The family of Dunipace, however, having exerted no +influence towards saving the daughter of the house from her fate, +did everything they could to have her disposed of as secretly and +as expeditiously as possible. In their zeal to have done with +the hapless girl who, they conceived, had blotted the family +honour indelibly they were in the prison with the magistrates +soon after three o'clock, quite indecent in their haste to see +her on her way to the scaffold. In the first place they had +applied to have her executed at nine o'clock on the evening of +the 3rd, another unusual hour, but the application was turned +down. The main idea with them was to have Jean done away with at +some hour when the populace would not be expecting the execution. +Part of the plan for privacy is revealed in the fact of the +burning of the nurse and the ``hyred woman'' at four o'clock at +the Castle Hill, nearly a mile away from the Girth Cross, so--as +the Pitcairn Trials footnote says-``that the populace, who might +be so early astir, should have their attentions distracted at two +opposite stations . . . and thus, in some measure, lessen the +disgrace of the public execution.'' + +If Jean had any reason to thank her family it was for securing, +probably as much on their own behalf as hers, that the usual way +of execution for women murderers should be altered in her case to +beheading by ``the Maiden.'' Had she been of lesser rank she +would certainly have been burned, after being strangled at a +stake, as were her nurse and the serving-woman. This was the +appalling fate reserved for convicted women[4] in such cases, and +on conviction even of smaller crimes. The process was even +crueller in instances where the crime had been particularly +atrocious. ``The criminal,'' says the Pitcairn account of such +punishment, ``was `brunt quick'!'' + + +[4] Men convicted of certain crimes were also subject to the same +form of execution adulterating and uttering base coins (Alan +Napier, cutler in Glasgow, was strangled and burned at the stake +in December 1602) sorcery, witchcraft, incantation, poisoning +(Bailie Paterson suffered a like fate in December 1607). For +bestiality John Jack was strangled on the Castle Hill (September +1605), and the innocent animal participator in his crime burned +with him. + + + +Altogether, the Dunipace family do not exactly shine with a good +light as concerns their treatment of the condemned girl. Her +father stood coldly aside. The quoted footnote remarks: + + +It is recorded that the Laird of Dunipace behaved with much +apathy towards his daughter, whom he would not so much as see +previous to her execution; nor yet would he intercede for her, +through whose delinquency he reckoned his blood to be for ever +dishonoured. + + +Jean herself was in no mind to be hurried to the scaffold as +early as her relatives would have had her conveyed. She wanted +(poor girl!) to see the sunrise, and to begin with the +magistrates granted her request. It would appear, however, that +Jean's blood-relations opposed the concession so strongly that it +was almost immediately rescinded. The culprit had to die in the +grey dark of the morning, before anyone was likely to be astir. + +In certain directions there was not a little heart-burning about +the untimely hour at which it was manoeuvred the execution should +be carried out. The writer of a Memorial, from which this piece +of information is drawn, refrains very cautiously from mentioning +the objectors by name. But it is not difficult, from the colour +of their objections, to decide that these people belonged to the +type still known in Scotland as the `unco guid.' They saw in the +execution of this fair malefactor a moral lesson and a solemn +warning which would have a salutary and uplifting effect upon the +spectators. + +``Will you,'' they asked the presiding dignitaries, and the +blood-relations of the hapless Jean, ``deprive God's people of +that comfort which they might have in that poor woman's death? +And will you obstruct the honour of it by putting her away before +the people rise out of their beds? You do wrong in so doing; for +the more public the death be, the more profitable it shall be to +many; and the more glorious, in the sight of all who shall see +it.'' + +But perhaps one does those worthies an injustice in attributing +cant motives to their desire that as many people as possible +should see Jean die. It had probably reached them that the Lady +Warriston's repentance had been complete, and that after +conviction of her sin had come to her her conduct had been sweet +and seemly. They were of their day and age, those people, +accustomed almost daily to beheadings, stranglings, burnings, +hangings, and dismemberings. With that dour, bitter, fire-and- +brimstone religious conception which they had through Knox from +Calvin, they were probably quite sincere in their belief that the +public repentance Jean Livingstone was due to make from the +scaffold would be for the ``comfort of God's people.'' It was +not so often that justice exacted the extreme penalty from a +young woman of rank and beauty. With ``dreadful objects so +familiar'' in the way of public executions, it was likely enough +that pity in the commonalty was ``choked with custom of fell +deeds.'' Something out of the way in the nature of a dreadful +object-lesson might stir the hearts of the populace and make them +conscious of the Wrath to Come. + +And Jean Livingstone did die a good death. + +The Memorial[5] which I have mentioned is upon Jean's +`conversion' in prison. It is written by one ``who was both a +seer and hearer of what was spoken [by the Lady Warriston].'' +The editor of the Pitcairn Trials believes, from internal +evidence, that it was written by Mr James Balfour, colleague of +Mr Robert Bruce, that minister of the Kirk who was so +contumacious about preaching what was practically a plea of the +King's innocence in the matter of the Gowrie mystery. It tells +how Jean, from being completely apathetic and callous with regard +to religion or to the dreadful situation in which she found +herself through her crime, under the patient and tender +ministrations of her spiritual advisers, arrived at complete +resignation to her fate and genuine repentance for her misdeeds. + + +[5] The Memorial is fully entitled: A Worthy and Notable +Memorial of the Great Work of Mercy which God wrought in the +Conversion of Jean Livingstone Lady Warristoun, who was +apprehended for the Vile and Horrible Murder of her own Husband, +John Kincaid, committed on Tuesday, July 1, 1600, for which she +was execute on Saturday following; Containing an Account of her +Obstinacy, Earnest Repentance, and her Turning to God; of the Odd +Speeches she used during her Imprisonment; of her Great and +Marvellous Constancy; and of her Behaviour and Manner of Death: +Observed by One who was both a Seer and Hearer of what was +spoken. + + + +Her confession, as filleted from the Memorial by the Pitcairn +Trials, is as follows: + + +I think I shall hear presently the pitiful and fearful cries +which he gave when he was strangled! And that vile sin which I +committed in murdering my own husband is yet before me. When +that horrible and fearful sin was done I desired the unhappy man +who did it (for my own part, the Lord knoweth I laid never my +hands upon him to do him evil; but as soon as that man gripped +him and began his evil turn, so soon as my husband cried so +fearfully, I leapt out over my bed and went to the Hall, where I +sat all the time, till that unhappy man came to me and reported +that mine husband was dead), I desired him, I say, to take me +away with him; for I feared trial; albeit flesh and blood made me +think my father's moen [interest] at Court would have saved me! + + +Well, we know what the Laird of Dunipace did about it. + +``As to these women who was challenged with me,'' the confession +goes on, + + +I will also tell my mind concerning them. God forgive the nurse, +for she helped me too well in mine evil purpose; for when I told +her I was minded to do so she consented to the doing of it; and +upon Tuesday, when the turn was done, when I sent her to seek the +man who would do it, she said, `` I shall go and seek him; and if +I get him not I shall seek another! And if I get none I shall do +it myself!'' + + +Here the writer of the Memorial interpolates the remark, ``This +the nurse also confessed, being asked of it before her death.'' +It is a misfortune, equalling that of the lack of information +regarding the character of Jean's husband, that there is so +little about the character of the nurse. She was, it is to be +presumed, an older woman than her mistress, probably nurse to +Jean in her infancy. One can imagine her (the stupid creature!) +up in arms against Kincaid for his treatment of her ``bonny +lamb,'' without the sense to see whither she was urging her young +mistress; blind to the consequences, but ``nursing her wrath'' +and striding purposefully from Warriston to Holyroodhouse on her +strong plebeian legs, not once but several times, in search of +Weir! What is known in Scotland as a `limmer,' obviously. + +``As for the two other women,'' Jean continues, + + +I request that you neither put them to death nor any torture, +because I testify they are both innocent, and knew nothing of +this deed before it was done, and the mean time of doing it; and +that they knew they durst not tell, for fear; for I compelled +them to dissemble. As for mine own part, I thank my God a +thousand times that I am so touched with the sense of that sin +now: for I confess this also to you, that when that horrible +murder was committed first, that I might seem to be innocent, I +laboured to counterfeit weeping; but, do what I could, I could +not find a tear. + + +Of the whole confession that last is the most revealing touch. +It is hardly just to fall into pity for Jean simply because she +was young and lovely. Her crime was a bad one, much more +deliberate than many that, in the same age, took women of lower +rank in life than Jean to the crueller end of the stake. In the +several days during which she was sending for Weir, but failing +to have speech with him, she had time to review her intention of +having her husband murdered. If the nurse was the prime mover in +the plot Jean was an unrelenting abettor. It may have been in +her calculations before, as well as after, the deed itself that +the interest of her father and family at Court would save her, +should the deed have come to light as murder. Even in these +days, when justice is so much more seasoned with mercy to women +murderers, a woman in Jean's case, with such strong evidence of +premeditation against her, would only narrowly escape the +hangman, if she escaped him at all. But that confession of +trying to pretend weeping and being unable to find tears is a +revelation. I can think of nothing more indicative of terror and +misery in a woman than that she should want to cry and be unable +to. Your genuinely hypocritical murderer, male as well as +female, can always work up self-pity easily and induce the +streaming eye. + +It is from internal evidences such as this that one may conclude +the repentance of Jean Livingstone, as shown in her confession, +to have been sincere. There was, we are informed by the +memorialist, nothing maudlin in her conduct after condemnation. +Once she got over her first obduracy, induced, one would imagine, +by the shock of seeing the realization of what she had planned +but never pictured, the murder itself, and probably by the +desertion of her by her father and kindred, her repentance was +``cheerful'' and ``unfeigned.'' They were tough-minded men, +those Scots divines who ministered to her at the last, too stern +in their theology to be misled by any pretence at finding grace. +And no pretty ways of Jean's would have deceived them. The +constancy of behaviour which is vouched for, not only by the +memorialist but by other writers, stayed with her until the axe +fell. + + + +% III + +``She was but a woman and a bairn, being the age of twenty-one +years,'' says the Memorial. But, ``in the whole way, as she went +to the place of execution, she behaved herself so cheerfully as +if she had been going to her wedding, and not to her death. When +she came to the scaffold, and was carried up upon it, she looked +up to ``the Maiden'' with two longsome looks, for she had never +seen it before.'' + +The minister-memorialist, who attended her on the scaffold, says +that all who saw Jean would bear record with himself that her +countenance alone would have aroused emotion, even if she had +never spoken a word. ``For there appeared such majesty in her +countenance and visage, and such a heavenly courage in her +gesture, that many said, `That woman is ravished by a higher +spirit than a man or woman's!' '' + +As for the Declaration and Confession which, according to custom, +Jean made from the four corners of the scaffold, the memorialist +does not pretend to give it verbatim. It was, he says, almost in +a form of words, and he gives the sum of it thus: + + +The occasion of my coming here is to show that I am, and have +been, a great sinner, and hath offended the Lord's Majesty; +especially, of the cruel murdering of mine own husband, which, +albeit I did not with mine own hands, for I never laid mine hands +upon him all the time that he was murdering, yet I was the +deviser of it, and so the committer. But my God hath been always +merciful to me, and hath given me repentance for my sins; and I +hope for mercy and grace at his Majesty's hands, for his dear son +Jesus Christ's sake. And the Lord hath brought me hither to be +an example to you, that you may not fall into the like sin as I +have done. And I pray God, for his mercy, to keep all his +faithful people from falling into the like inconvenient as I have +done! And therefore I desire you all to pray to God for me, that +he would be merciful to me! + + +One wonders just how much of Jean's own words the +minister-memorialist got into this, his sum of her confession. +Her speech would be coloured inevitably by the phrasing she had +caught from her spiritual advisers, and the sum of it would +almost unavoidably have something of the memorialist's own +fashion of thought. I would give a good deal to know if Jean did +actually refer to the Almighty as ``the Lord's Majesty,'' and +hope for ``grace at his Majesty's hands.'' I do not think I am +being oversubtle when I fancy that, if Jean did use those words, +I see an element of confusion in her scaffold confession--the +trembling confusion remaining from a lost hope. As a Scot, I +have no recollection of ever hearing the Almighty referred to as +``the Lord's Majesty'' or as ``his Majesty.'' It does not ring +naturally to my ear. Nor, at the long distance from which I +recollect reading works of early Scottish divines, can I think of +these forms being used in such a context. I may be--I very +probably am--all wrong, but I have a feeling that up to the last +Jean Livingstone believed royal clemency would be shown to her, +and that this belief appears in the use of these unwonted +phrases. + +However that may be, Jean's conduct seems to have been heroic and +unfaltering. She prayed, and one of her relations or friends +brought ``a clean cloath'' to tie over her eyes. Jean herself +had prepared for this operation, for she took a pin out of her +mouth and gave it into the friend's hand to help the fastening. +The minister-memorialist, having taken farewell of her for the +last time, could not bear the prospect of what was about to +happen. He descended from the scaffold and went away. ``But +she,'' he says, + +as a constant saint of God, humbled herself on her knees, and +offered her neck to the axe, laying her neck, sweetly and +graciously, in the place appointed, moving to and fro, till she +got a rest for her neck to lay in. When her head was now made +fast to ``the Maiden'' the executioner came behind her and pulled +out her feet, that her neck might be stretched out longer, and so +made more meet for the stroke of the axe; but she, as it was +reported to me by him who saw it and held her by the hands at +this time, drew her legs twice to her again, labouring to sit on +her knees, till she should give up her spirit to the Lord! +During this time, which was long, for the axe was but slowly +loosed, and fell not down hastily, after laying of her head, her +tongue was not idle, but she continued crying to the Lord, and +uttered with a loud voice those her wonted words, ``Lord Jesus, +receive my spirit! O Lamb of God, that taketh away the sins of +the world, have mercy upon me! Into thy hand, Lord, I commend my +soul!'' When she came to the middle of this last sentence, and +had said, ``Into thy hand, Lord,'' at the pronouncing of the word +``Lord'' the axe fell; which was diligently marked by one of her +friends, who still held her by the hand, and reported this to me. + + + +% IV + +On the 26th of June, 1604, Robert Weir, ``sumtyme servande to the +Laird of Dynniepace,'' was brought to knowledge of an assize. He +was ``Dilaitit of airt and pairt of the crewall Murthour of umqle +Johnne Kincaid of Wariestoune; committit the first of Julij, 1600 +yeiris.'' + + +Verdict. The Assyse, all in ane voce, be the mouth of the said +Thomas Galloway, chanceller, chosen be thame, ffand, pronouncet +and declairit the said Robert Weir to be ffylit, culpable and +convict of the crymes above specifiet, mentionat in the said +Dittay; and that in respect of his Confessioun maid thairof, in +Judgement. + +Sentence. The said Justice-depute, be the mouth of James +Sterling, dempster of the Court, decernit and ordainit the said +Robert Weir to be tane to ane skaffold to be fixt beside the +Croce of Edinburgh, and there to be brokin upoune ane Row,[6] +quhill he be deid; and to ly thairat, during the space of xxiiij +houris. And thaireftir, his body to be tane upon the said Row, +and set up, in ane publict place, betwix the place of Wariestoune +and the toun of Leyth; and to remain thairupoune, ay and quhill +command be gevin for the buriall thairof. Quhilk was pronouncet +for dome. + + +[6] A `row' is a wheel. This is one of the very few instances on +which the terrible and vicious punishment of `breaking on a +wheel' was employed in Scotland. Jean Livingstone's accomplice +was, according to Birrell's Diary, broken on a cartwheel, with +the coulter of a plough in the hand of the hangman. The exotic +method of execution suggests experiment by King Jamie. + + + +% V + +The Memorial before mentioned is, in the original, a manuscript +belonging to the Advocates' Library of Edinburgh. A printed copy +was made in 1828, under the editorship of J. Sharpe, in the same +city. This edition contains, among other more relative matter, a +reprint of a newspaper account of an execution by strangling and +burning at the stake. The woman concerned was not the last +victim in Britain of this form of execution. The honour, I +believe, belongs to one Anne Cruttenden. The account is full of +gruesome and graphic detail, but the observer preserves quite an +air of detachment: + + +IVELCHESTER: 9th May, 1765. Yesterday Mary Norwood, for +poisoning her husband, Joseph Norwood, of Axbridge, in this +county [Somerset], was burnt here pursuant to her sentence. She +was brought out of the prison about three o'clock in the +afternoon, barefoot; she was covered with a tarred cloth, made +like a shift, and a tarred bonnet over her head; and her legs, +feet, and arms had likewise tar on them; the heat of the weather +melting the tar, it ran over her face, so that she made a +shocking appearance. She was put on a hurdle, and drawn on a +sledge to the place of execution, which was very near the +gallows. After spending some time in prayer, and singing a hymn, +the executioner placed her on a tar barrel, about three feet +high; a rope (which was in a pulley through the stake) was fixed +about her neck, she placing it properly with her hands; this rope +being drawn extremely tight with the pulley, the tar barrel was +then pushed away, and three irons were then fastened around her +body, to confine it to the stake, that it might not drop when the +rope should be burnt. As soon as this was done the fire was +immediately kindled; but in all probability she was quite dead +before the fire reached her, as the executioner pulled her body +several times whilst the irons were fixing, which was about five +minutes. There being a good quantity of tar, and the wood in the +pile being quite dry, the fire burnt with amazing fury; +notwithstanding which great part of her could be discerned for +near half an hour. Nothing could be more affecting than to +behold, after her bowels fell out, the fire flaming between her +ribs, issuing out of her ears, mouth, eyeholes, etc. In short, +it was so terrible a sight that great numbers turned their backs +and screamed out, not being able to look at it. + + + + +III: THE COUNTESS AND THE COZENER + +It is hardly likely when that comely but penniless young Scot +Robert Carr, of Ferniehurst, fell from his horse and broke his +leg that any of the spectators of the accident foresaw how +far-reaching it would be in its consequences. It was an +accident, none the less, which in its ultimate results was to put +several of the necks craned to see it in peril of the hangman's +noose. + +That divinely appointed monarch King James the Sixth of Scotland +and First of England had an eye for manly beauty. Though he +could contrive the direst of cruelties to be committed out of his +sight, the actual spectacle of physical suffering in the human +made him squeamish. Add the two facts of the King's nature +together and it may be understood how Robert Carr, in falling +from his horse that September day in the tilt-yard of Whitehall, +fell straight into his Majesty's favour. King James himself gave +orders for the disposition of the sufferer, found lodgings for +him, sent his own surgeon, and was constant in his visits to the +convalescent. Thereafter the rise of Robert Carr was meteoric. +Knighted, he became Viscount Rochester, a member of the Privy +Council, then Earl of Somerset, Knight of the Garter, all in a +very few years. It was in 1607 that he fell from his horse, +under the King's nose. In 1613 he was at the height of his power +in England. + +Return we for a moment, however, to that day in the Whitehall +tilt-yard. It is related that one woman whose life and fate were +to be bound with Carr's was in the ladies' gallery. It is very +probable that a second woman, whose association with the first +did much to seal Carr's doom, was also a spectator. If Frances +Howard, as we read, showed distress over the painful mishap to +the handsome Scots youth it is almost certain that Anne Turner, +with the quick eye she had for male comeliness and her less need +for Court-bred restraint, would exhibit a sympathetic volubility. + +Frances Howard was the daughter of that famous Elizabethan seaman +Thomas Howard, Earl of Suffolk. On that day in September she +would be just over fifteen years of age. It is said that she was +singularly lovely. At that early age she was already a wife, +victim of a political marriage which, in the exercise of the +ponderous cunning he called kingcraft, King James had been at +some pains to arrange. At the age of thirteen Frances had been +married to Robert Devereux, third Earl of Essex, then but a year +older than herself. The young couple had been parted at the +altar, the groom being sent travelling to complete his growth and +education, and Frances being returned to her mother and the +semi-seclusion of the Suffolk mansion at Audley End. + +Of the two women, so closely linked in fate, the second is +perhaps the more interesting study. Anne Turner was something +older than the Countess of Essex. In the various records of the +strange piece of history which is here to be dealt with there are +many allusions to a long association between the two. Almost a +foster-sister relationship seems to be implied, but actual detail +is irritatingly absent. Nor is it clear whether Mrs Turner at +the time of the tilt-yard incident had embarked on the business +activities which were to make her a much sought-after person in +King James's Court. It is not to be ascertained whether she was +not already a widow at that time. We can only judge from +circumstantial evidence brought forward later. + +In 1610, at all events, Mrs Turner was well known about the +Court, and was quite certainly a widow. Her husband had been a +well-known medical man, one George Turner, a graduate of St +John's College, Cambridge. He had been a protege of Queen +Elizabeth. Dying, this elderly husband of Mistress Turner had +left her but little in the way of worldly goods, but that little +the fair young widow had all the wit to turn to good account. +There was a house in Paternoster Row and a series of notebooks. +Like many another physician of his time, George Turner had been a +dabbler in more arts than that of medicine, an investigator in +sciences other than pathology. His notebooks would appear to +have contained more than remedial prescriptions for agues, +fevers, and rheums. There was, for example, a recipe for a +yellow starch which, says Rafael Sabatini, in his fine romance +The Minion,[7] ``she dispensed as her own invention. This had +become so widely fashionable for ruffs and pickadills that of +itself it had rendered her famous.'' One may believe, also, that +most of the recipes for those ``perfumes, cosmetics, unguents and +mysterious powders, liniments and lotions asserted to preserve +beauty where it existed, and even to summon it where it was +lacking,'' were derived from the same sources. + + +[7] Hutchinson, 1930. + + + +There is a temptation to write of Mistress Turner as forerunner +of that notorious Mme Rachel of whom, in his volume Bad +Companions,[8] Mr Roughead has said the final and pawky word. +Mme Rachel, in the middle of the nineteenth century, founded her +fortunes as a beauty specialist (?) on a prescription for a +hair-restorer given her by a kindly doctor. She also `invented' +many a lotion and unguent for the preservation and creation of +beauty. But at about this point analogy stops. Both Rachel and +her forerunner, Anne Turner, were scamps, and both got into +serious trouble--Anne into deeper and deadlier hot water than +Rachel--but between the two women there is only superficial +comparison. Rachel was a botcher and a bungler, a very cobbler, +beside Anne Turner. + + +[8] Edinburgh, W. Green and Son, Ltd., 1930. + + + +Anne, there is every cause for assurance, was in herself the best +advertisement for her wares. Rachel was a fat old hag. Anne, +prettily fair, little-boned, and deliciously fleshed, was neat +and elegant. The impression one gets of her from all the +records, even the most prejudiced against her, is that she was a +very cuddlesome morsel indeed. She was, in addition, +demonstrably clever. Such a man of talent as Inigo Jones +supported the decoration of many of the masques he set on the +stage with costumes of Anne's design and confection. Rachel +could neither read nor write. + +It is highly probable that Anne Turner made coin out of the notes +which her late husband, so inquisitive of mind, had left on +matters much more occult than the manufacture of yellow starch +and skin lotions. ``It was also rumoured,'' says Mr Sabatini, +``that she amassed gold in another and less licit manner: that +she dabbled in fortune-telling and the arts of divination.'' We +shall see, as the story develops, that the rumour had some +foundation. The inquiring mind of the late Dr Turner had led him +into strange company, and his legacy to Anne included connexions +more sombre than those in the extravagantly luxurious Court of +King James. + +In 1610 the elegant little widow was flourishing enough to be +able to maintain a lover in good style. This was Sir Arthur +Mainwaring, member of a Cheshire family of good repute but of no +great wealth. By him she had three children. Mainwaring was +attached in some fashion to the suite of the Prince of Wales, +Prince Henry. And while the Prince's court at St James's Palace +was something more modest, as it was more refined, than that of +the King at Whitehall, position in it was not to be retained at +ease without considerable expenditure. It may be gauged, +therefore, at what expense Anne's attachment to Mainwaring would +keep her, and to what exercise of her talent and ambition her +pride in it would drive her. And her pride was absolute. It +would, says a contemporary diarist, ``make her fly at any pitch +rather than fall into the jaws of want.''[9] + + +[9] Antony Weldon, The Court and Character of King James (1651). + + + +% II + +In his romance The Minion, Rafael Sabatini makes the first +meeting of Anne Turner and the Countess of Essex occur in 1610 or +1611. With this date Judge A. E. Parry, in his book The Overbury +Mystery,[10] seems to agree in part. There is, however, warrant +enough for believing that the two women had met long before that +time. Anne Turner herself, pleading at her trial for mercy from +Sir Edward Coke, the Lord Chief Justice, put forward the plea +that she had been ``ever brought up with the Countess of Essex, +and had been a long time her servant.''[11] She also made the +like extenuative plea on the scaffold.[12] Judge Parry seems to +follow some of the contemporary writers in assuming that Anne was +a spy in the pay of the Lord Privy Seal, the Earl of Northampton. +If this was so there is further ground for believing that Anne +and Lady Essex had earlier contacts, for Northampton was Lady +Essex's great-uncle. The longer association would go far in +explaining the terrible conspiracy into which, from soon after +that time, the two women so readily fell together--a criminal +conspiracy, in which the reader may see something of the ``false +nurse'' in Anne Turner and something of Jean Livingstone in +Frances Howard, Lady Essex. + + +[10] Fisher Unwin, 1925. +[11] State Trials (Cobbett's edition). +[12] Antony Weldon. + + + +It was about this time, 1610-1611, that Lady Essex began to find +herself interested in the handsome Robert Carr, then Viscount +Rochester. Having reached the mature age of eighteen, the lovely +Frances had been brought by her mother, the Countess of Suffolk, +to Court. Highest in the King's favour, and so, with his +remarkably good looks, his charm, and the elegant taste in attire +and personal appointment which his new wealth allowed him +lavishly to indulge, Rochester was by far the most brilliant +figure there. Frances fell in love with the King's minion. + +Rochester, it would appear, did not immediately respond to the +lady's advances. They were probably too shy, too tentative, to +attract Rochester's attention. It is probable, also, that there +were plenty of beautiful women about the Court, more mature, more +practised in the arts of coquetry than Frances, and very likely +not at all `blate'--as Carr and his master would put it--in +showing themselves ready for conquest by the King's handsome +favourite. + +Whether the acquaintance of Lady Essex with Mrs Turner was of +long standing or not, it was to the versatile Anne that her +ladyship turned as confidante. The hint regarding Anne's skill +in divination will be remembered. Having regard to the period, +and to the alchemistic nature of the goods that composed so much +of Anne's stock-in-trade at the sign of the Golden Distaff, in +Paternoster Row, it may be conjectured that the love-lorn Frances +had thoughts of a philtre. + +With an expensive lover and children to maintain, to say nothing +of her own luxurious habits, Anne Turner would see in the +Countess's appeal a chance to turn more than one penny into the +family exchequer. She was too much the opportunist to let any +consideration of old acquaintance interfere with working such a +potential gold-mine as now seemed to lie open to her pretty but +prehensile fingers. Lady Essex was rich. She was also ardent in +her desire. The game was too big for Anne to play single-handed. +A real expert in cozening, a master of guile, was wanted to +exploit the opportunity to its limit. + +It is a curious phenomenon, and one that constantly recurs in the +history of cozenage, how people who live by spoof fall victims so +readily to spoofery. Anne Turner had brains. There is no doubt +of it. Apart from that genuine and honest talent in +costume-design which made her work acceptable to such an +outstanding genius as Inigo Jones, she lived by guile. But I +have now to invite you to see her at the feet of one of the +silliest charlatans who ever lived. There is, of course, the +possibility that Anne sat at the feet of this silly charlatan for +what she might learn for the extension of her own technique. Or, +again, it may have been that the wizard of Lambeth, whom she +consulted in the Lady Essex affair, could provide a more +impressive setting for spoof than she had handy, or that they +were simply rogues together. My trouble is to understand why, by +the time that the Lady Essex came to her with her problem, Anne +had not exhausted all the gambits in flummery that were at the +command of the preposterous Dr Forman. + +The connexion with Dr Forman was part of the legacy left Anne by +Dr Turner. Her husband had been the friend and patron of Forman, +so that by the time Anne had taken Mainwaring for her lover, and +had borne him three children, she must have had ample opportunity +for seeing through the old charlatan. + +Antony Weldon, the contemporary writer already quoted, is +something too scurrilous and too apparently biased to be +altogether a trustworthy authority. He seems to have been the +type of gossip (still to be met in London clubs) who can always +tell with circumstance how the duchess came to have a black baby, +and the exact composition of the party at which Midas played at +`strip poker.' But he was, like many of his kind, an amusing +enough companion for the idle moment, and his description of Dr +Forman is probably fairly close to the truth. + +``This Forman,'' he says, + +was a silly fellow who dwelt in Lambeth, a very silly fellow, yet +had wit enough to cheat the ladies and other women, by pretending +skill in telling their fortunes, as whether they should bury +their husbands, and what second husbands they should have, and +whether they should enjoy their loves, or whether maids should +get husbands, or enjoy their servants to themselves without +corrivals: but before he would tell them anything they must write +their names in his alphabetical book with their own handwriting. +By this trick he kept them in awe, if they should complain of his +abusing them, as in truth he did nothing else. Besides, it was +believed, some meetings were at his house, wherein the art of the +bawd was more beneficial to him than that of a conjurer, and that +he was a better artist in the one than in the other: and that you +may know his skill, he was himself a cuckold, having a very +pretty wench to his wife, which would say, she did it to try his +skill, but it fared with him as with astrologers that cannot +foresee their own destiny. + + +And here comes an addendum, the point of which finds confirmation +elsewhere. It has reference to the trial of Anne Turner, to +which we shall come later. + +``I well remember there was much mirth made in the Court upon the +showing of the book, for, it was reported, the first leaf my lord +Cook [Coke, the Lord Chief Justice] lighted on he found his own +wife's name.'' + +Whatever Anne's reason for doing so, it was to this scortatory +old scab that she turned for help in cozening the fair young +Countess. The devil knows to what obscene ritual the girl was +introduced. There is evidence that the thaumaturgy practised by +Forman did not want for lewdness--as magic of the sort does not +to this day--and in this regard Master Weldon cannot be far +astray when he makes our pretty Anne out to be the veriest +baggage. + +Magic or no magic, philtre or no philtre, it was not long before +Lady Essex had her wish. The Viscount Rochester fell as +desperately in love with her as she was with him. + +There was, you may be sure, no small amount of scandalous chatter +in the Court over the quickly obvious attachment the one to the +other of this handsome couple. So much of this scandalous +chatter has found record by the pens of contemporary and later +gossip-writers that it is hard indeed to extract the truth. It +is certain, however, that had the love between Robert Carr and +Frances Howard been as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, jealousy +would still have done its worst in besmirching. It was not, if +the Rabelaisian trend in so much of Jacobean writing be any +indication, a particularly moral age. Few ages in history are. +It was not, with a reputed pervert as the fount of honour, a +particularly moral Court. Since the emergence of the lovely +young Countess from tutelage at Audley End there had been no lack +of suitors for her favour. And when Frances so openly exhibited +her preference for the King's minion there would be some among +those disappointed suitors who would whisper, greenly, that +Rochester had been granted that prisage which was the right of +the absent Essex, a right which they themselves had been quite +ready to usurp. It is hardly likely that there would be complete +abnegation of salty gossip among the ladies of the Court, their +Apollo being snatched by a mere chit of a girl. + +What relative happiness there may have been for the pair in their +loving--it could not, in the hindrance there was to their free +mating, have been an absolute happiness --was shattered after +some time by the return to England of the young husband. The +Earl of Essex, now almost come to man's estate, arrived to take +up the position which his rank entitled him to expect in the +Court, and to assume the responsibilities and rights which, he +fancied, belonged to him as a married man. In respect of the +latter part of his intention he immediately found himself balked. +His wife, perhaps all the deeper in love with Rochester for this +threat to their happiness, declared that she had no mind to be +held by the marriage forced on her in infancy, and begged her +husband to agree to its annulment. + +It had been better for young Essex to have agreed at once. He +would have spared himself, ultimately, a great deal of +humiliation through ridicule. But he tried to enforce his rights +as a husband, a proceeding than which there is none more absurd +should the wife prove obdurate. And prove obdurate his wife did. +She was to be moved neither by threat nor by pleading. It was, +you will notice, a comedy situation; husband not perhaps amorous +so much as the thwarted possessor of the unpossessable--wife +frigid and a maid, as far, at least, as the husband was +concerned, and her weeping eyes turned yearningly elsewhere. A +comedy situation, yes, and at this distance almost farcical--but +for certain elements in it approaching tragedy. + +Badgered, not only by her husband but by her own relatives, +scared no doubt, certainly unhappy, unable for politic reasons to +appeal freely to her beloved Robin, to whom might Frances turn +but the helpful Turner? And to whom, having turned to pretty +Anne, was she likely to be led but again to the wizard of +Lambeth? + +Dr Forman had a heart for beauty in distress, but dissipating the +ardency of an exigent husband was a difficult matter compared +with attracting that of a negligent lover. It was also much more +costly. A powder there was, indeed, which, administered secretly +by small regular doses in the husband's food or drink, would soon +cool his ardour, but the process of manufacture and the +ingredients were enormously expensive. Frances got her powder. + +The first dose was administered to Lord Essex just before his +departure from a visit to his wife at Audley End. On his arrival +back in London he was taken violently ill, so ill that in the +weeks he lay in bed his life was despaired of. Only the +intervention of the King's own physician, one Sir Theodore +Mayerne, would appear to have saved him. + +Her husband slowly convalescing, Lady Essex was summoned by her +family back to London. In London, while Lord Essex mended in +health, she was much in the company of her ``sweet Turner.'' In +addition to the house in Paternoster Row the little widow had a +pretty riverside cottage at Hammersmith, and both were at the +disposal of Lady Essex and her lover for stolen meetings. Those +meetings were put a stop to by the recovery of Lord Essex, and +with his recovery his lordship exhibited a new mood of +determination. Backed by her ladyship's family, he ordered her +to accompany him to their country place of Chartley. Her +ladyship had to obey. + +The stages of the journey were marked by the nightly illness of +his lordship. By the time they arrived at Chartley itself he was +in a condition little if at all less dangerous than that from +which he had been rescued by the King's physician. His illness +lasted for weeks, and during this time her ladyship wrote many a +letter to Anne Turner and to Dr Forman. She was afraid his +lordship would live. She was afraid his lordship would die. She +was afraid she would lose the love of Rochester. She begged Anne +Turner and Forman to work their best magic for her aid. She was +afraid that if his lordship recovered the spells might prove +useless, that his attempts to assert his rights as a husband +would begin again, and that there, in the heart of the country +and so far from any refuge, they might take a form she would be +unable to resist + +His lordship did recover. His attempts to assert his rights as a +husband did begin again. The struggle between them, Frances +constant in her obduracy, lasted several months. Her obstinacy +wore down his. At long last he let her go. + + + +% III + +If the fate that overtook Frances Howard and Rochester, and with +them Anne Turner and many another, is to be properly understood, +a brief word on the political situation in England at this time +will be needed--or, rather, a word on the political personages, +with their antagonisms. + +Next in closeness to the King's ear after Rochester, and perhaps +more trusted as a counsellor by that ``wise fool,'' there had +been Robert Cecil, Lord Salisbury, for a long time First +Secretary of State. But about the time when Lady Essex finally +parted with her husband Cecil died, depriving England of her +keenest brain and the staunchest heart in her causes. If there +had been no Rochester the likeliest man in the kingdom to succeed +to the power and offices of Cecil would have been the Earl of +Northampton, uncle of Lord Suffolk, who was the father of Lady +Essex. Northampton, as stated, held the office of Lord Privy +Seal. + +The Howard family had done the State great service in the past. +Its present representatives, Northampton and Suffolk, were +anxious to do the State great service, as they conceived it, in +the future. They were, however, Catholics in all but open +acknowledgment, and as such were opposed by the Protestants, who +had at their head Prince Henry. This was an opposition that they +might have stomached. It was one that they might even have got +over, for the Prince and his father, the King, were not the best +of friends. The obstacle to their ambitions, and one they found +hard to stomach, was the upstart Rochester. And even Rochester +would hardly have stood in their way had his power in the Council +depended on his own ability. The brain that directed Robert Carr +belonged to another man. This was Sir Thomas Overbury. + +On the death of Cecil the real contenders for the vacant office +of First Secretary of State--the highest office in the land--were +not the wily Northampton and the relatively unintelligent +Rochester, but the subtle Northampton and the quite as subtle, +and perhaps more spacious-minded, Thomas Overbury. There was, it +will be apprehended, a possible weakness on the Overbury side. +The gemel-chain, like that of many links, is merely as strong as +its weakest member. Overbury had no approach to the King save +through the King's favourite. Rochester could have no real +weight with the King, at least in affairs of State, except what +he borrowed from Overbury. Divided, the two were powerless. No, +more than that, there had to be no flaw in their linking. + +The wily Northampton, one may be certain, was fully aware of this +possible weakness in the combination opposed to his advancement. +He would be fully aware, that is, that it was there potentially; +but when he began, as his activities would indicate, to work for +the creation of that flaw in the relationship between Rochester +and Overbury it is unlikely that he knew the flaw had already +begun to develop. Unknown to him, circumstance already had begun +to operate in his favour. + +Overbury was Rochester's tutor in more than appertained to +affairs of State. It is more than likely that in Carr's wooing +of Lady Essex he had held the role of Cyrano de Bergerac, writing +those gracefully turned letters and composing those accomplished +verses which did so much to augment and give constancy to her +ladyship's love for Rochester. It is certain, at any rate, that +Overbury was privy to all the correspondence passing between the +pair, and that even such events as the supplying by Forman and +Mrs Turner of that magic powder, and the Countess's use of it +upon her husband, were well within his knowledge. + +While the affair between his alter ego and the Lady Essex might +be looked upon as mere dalliance, a passionate episode likely to +wither with a speed equal to that of its growth, Overbury, it is +probable, found cynical amusement in helping it on. But when, as +time went on, the lady and her husband separated permanently, and +from mere talk of a petition for annulment of the Essex marriage +that petition was presented in actual form to the King, Overbury +saw danger. Northampton was backing the petition. If it +succeeded Lady Essex would be free to marry Rochester. And the +marriage, since Northampton was not the man to give except in the +expectation of plenty, would plant the unwary Rochester on the +hearth of his own and Overbury's enemies. With Rochester in the +Howard camp there would be short shrift for Thomas Overbury. +There would be, though Rochester in his infatuation seemed blind +to the fact, as short a shrift as the Howards could contrive for +the King's minion. + +In that march of inevitability which marks all real tragedy the +road that is followed forks ever and again with an `if.' And we +who, across the distance of time, watch with a sort of Jovian +pity the tragic puppets in their folly miss this fork and that +fork on their road of destiny select, each according to our +particular temperaments, a particular `if' over which to shake +our heads. For me, in this story of Rochester, Overbury, Frances +Howard, and the rest, the point of tragedy, the most poignant of +the issues, is the betrayal by Robert Carr of Overbury's +friendship. Though this story is essentially, or should be, that +of the two women who were linked in fate with Rochester and his +coadjutor, I am constrained to linger for a moment on that point. + +Overbury's counsel had made Carr great. With nothing but his +good looks and his personal charm, his only real attributes, Carr +had been no more than King James's creature. James, with all the +pedantry, the laboured cunning, the sleezy weaknesses of +character that make him so detestable, was yet too shrewd to have +put power in the hands of the mere minion that Carr would have +been without the brain of Overbury to guide him. Of himself Carr +was the `toom tabard' of earlier parlance in his native country, +the `stuffed shirt' of a later and more remote generation. But +beyond the coalition for mutual help that existed between +Overbury and Carr, an arrangement which might have thrived on a +basis merely material, there was a deep and splendid friendship. +`Stuffed shirt' or not, Robert Carr was greatly loved by +Overbury. Whatever Overbury may have thought of Carr's mental +attainments, he had the greatest faith in his loyalty as a +friend. And here lies the terrible pity in that `if' of my +choice. The love between the two men was great enough to have +saved them both. It broke on the weakness of Carr. + +Overbury was aware that, honestly presented, the petition by Lady +Essex for the annulment of her marriage had little chance of +success. But for the obstinacy of Essex it might have been +granted readily enough. He had, however, as we have seen, forced +her to live with him as his wife, in appearance at least, for +several months in the country. There now would be difficulty in +putting forward the petition on the ground of non-consummation of +the marriage. + +It was, nevertheless, on this ground that the petition was +brought forward. But the non-consummation was not attributed, as +it might have been, to the continued separation that had begun at +the altar; the reason given was the impotence of the husband. +Just what persuasion Northampton and the Howards used on Essex to +make him accept this humiliating implication it is hard to +imagine, but by the time the coarse wits of the period had done +with him Essex was amply punished in ridicule for his primary +obstinacy. + +Sir Thomas Overbury, well informed though he usually was, must +have been a good deal in the dark regarding the negotiations +which had brought the nullity suit to this forward state. He had +warned Rochester so frankly of the danger into which the scheme +was likely to lead him that they had quarrelled and parted. If +Rochester had been frank with his friend, if, on the ground of +their friendship, he had appealed to him to set aside his +prejudice, it might well have been that the tragedy which ensued +would have been averted. Enough evidence remains to this day of +Overbury's kindness for Robert Carr, there is enough proof of the +man's abounding resource and wit, to give warrant for belief that +he would have had the will, as he certainly had the ability, to +help his friend. Overbury was one of the brightest intelligences +of his age. Had Rochester confessed the extent of his commitment +with Northampton there is little doubt that Overbury could and +would have found a way whereby Rochester could have attained his +object (of marriage with Frances Howard), and this without +jeopardizing their mutual power to the Howard menace. + +In denying the man who had made him great the complete confidence +which their friendship demanded Rochester took the tragically +wrong path on his road of destiny. But the truth is that when he +quarrelled with Overbury he had already betrayed the friendship. +He had already embarked on the perilous experiment of straddling +between two opposed camps. It was an experiment that he, least +of all men, had the adroitness to bring off. He was never in +such need of Overbury's brain as when he aligned himself in +secret with Overbury's enemies. + +It is entirely probable that in linking up with Northampton +Rochester had no mind to injure his friend. The bait was the +woman he loved. Without Northampton's aid the nullity suit could +not be put forward, and without the annulment there could be no +marriage for him with Frances Howard. But he had no sooner +joined with Northampton than the very processes against which +Overbury had warned him were begun. Rochester was trapped, and +with him Overbury. + +For the success of the suit, in Northampton's view, Overbury knew +too much. It was a view to which Rochester was readily +persuaded; or it was one which he was easily frightened into +accepting. From that to joining in a plot for being rid of +Overbury was but a step. Grateful, perhaps, for the undoubted +services that Overbury had rendered him, Rochester would be eager +enough to find his quondam friend employment. If that employment +happened to take Overbury out of the country so much the better. +At one time the King, jealous as a woman of the friendship +existing between his favourite and Overbury, had tried to shift +the latter out of the way by an offer of the embassy in Paris. +It was an offer Rochester thought, that he might cause to be +repeated. The idea was broached to Overbury. That shrewd +individual, of course, saw through the suggestion to the +intention behind it, but he was at a loss for an outlet for his +talents, having left Rochester's employ, and he believed without +immodesty that he could do useful work as ambassador in Paris. + +Overbury was offered an embassy--but in Muscovy. He had no mind +to bury himself in Russia, and he refused the offer on the ground +of ill-health. By doing this he walked into the trap prepared +for him. Northampton had foreseen the refusal when he promoted +the offer on its rearranged terms. The King, already incensed +against Overbury for some hints at knowledge of facts liable to +upset the Essex nullity suit, pretended indignation at the +refusal. Overbury unwarily repeated it before the Privy Council. +That was what Northampton wanted. The refusal was high contempt +of the King's majesty. Sir Thomas Overbury was committed to the +Tower. He might have talked in Paris, or have written from +Muscovy. He might safely do either in the Tower--where gags and +bonds were so readily at hand. + +Did Rochester know of the springe set to catch Overbury? The +answer to the question, whether yes or no, hardly matters. Since +he was gull enough to discard the man whose brain had lifted him +from a condition in which he was hardly better than the King's +lap-dog, he was gull enough to be fooled by Northampton. Since +he valued the friendship of that honest man so little as to +consort in secret with his enemies, he was knave enough to have +been party to the betrayal. Knave or fool--what does it matter? +He was so much of both that, in dread of what Sir Thomas might +say or do to thwart the nullity suit, he let his friend rot in +the Tower for months on end, let him sicken and nearly die +several times, without a move to free him. He did this to the +man who had trusted him implicitly, a man that--to adapt +Overbury's own words from his last poignant letter to +Rochester--he had ``more cause to love . . . yea, perish for . . +. rather than see perish.'' + +It is not given to every man to have that greater love which will +make him lay down his life for a friend, but it is the sheer +poltroon and craven who will watch a friend linger and expire in +agony without lifting a finger to save him. Knave or fool--what +does it matter when either is submerged in the coward? + + + +% IV + +Overbury lay in the Tower five months. The commission appointed +to examine into the Essex nullity suit went into session three +weeks after he was imprisoned. There happened to be one man in +the commission who cared more to be honest than to humour the +King. This was the Archbishop Abbot. The King himself had +prepared the petition. It was a task that delighted his +pedantry, and his petition was designed for immediate acceptance. +But such was Abbot's opposition that in two or three months the +commission ended with divided findings. + +Meantime Overbury in the Tower had been writing letters. He had +been talking to visitors. As time went on, and Rochester did +nothing to bring about his enlargement, his writings and sayings +became more threatening Rochester's attitude was that patience +was needed. In time he would bring the King to a more clement +view of Sir Thomas's offending, and he had no doubt that in the +end he would be able to secure the prisoner both freedom and +honourable employment. + +Overbury had been consigned to the Tower in April. In June he +complained of illness. Rochester wrote to him in sympathetic +terms, sending him a powder that he himself had found beneficial, +and made his own physician visit the prisoner. + +But the threats which Overbury, indignant at his betrayal by +Rochester, made by speech and writing were becoming common +property in the city and at Court One of Overbury's visitors who +had made public mention of Overbury's knowledge of facts likely +to blow upon the Essex suit was arrested on the orders of +Northampton. In the absence of the King and Rochester from +London the old Earl was acting as Chief Secretary of State--thus +proving Overbury to have been a true prophet. Northampton issued +orders to the Tower that Overbury was to be closely confined, +that his man Davies was to be dismissed, and that he was to be +denied all visitors. The then Lieutenant of the Tower, one Sir +William Wade, was deprived of his position on the thinnest of +pretexts, and, on the recommendation of Sir Thomas Monson, Master +of the Armoury, an elderly gentleman from Lincolnshire, Sir +Gervase Elwes, was put in his place. + +From that moment Sir Thomas Overbury was permitted no +communication with the outer world, save by letter to Lord +Rochester and for food that was brought him, as we shall +presently see, at the instance of Mrs Turner. + +In place of his own servant Davies Sir Thomas was allowed the +services of an under-keeper named Weston, appointed at the same +time as Sir Gervase Elwes. This man, it is perhaps important to +note, had at one time been servant to Mrs Turner. + +The alteration in the personnel of the Tower was almost +immediately followed by severe illness on the part of the +prisoner. The close confinement to which he was subjected, with +the lack of exercise, could hardly have been the cause of such a +violent sickness. It looked more as if it had been brought about +by something he had eaten or drunk. By this time the conviction +he had tried to resist, that Rochester was meanly sacrificing +him, became definite. Overbury is hardly to be blamed if he came +to a resolution to be revenged on his one-time friend by bringing +him to utter ruin. King James had been so busy in the Essex +nullity suit, had gone to such lengths to carry it through, that +if it could be wrecked by the production of the true facts he +would be bound to sacrifice Rochester to save his own face. Sir +Thomas had an accurate knowledge of the King's character. He +knew the scramble James was capable of making in a difficulty +that involved his kingly dignity, and what little reck he had of +the faces he trod on in climbing from a pit of his own digging. +By a trick Overbury contrived to smuggle a letter through to the +honest Archbishop Abbot, in which he declared his possession of +facts that would non-suit the nullity action, and begged to be +summoned before the commission. + +Overbury was getting better of the sickness which had attacked +him when suddenly it came upon him again. This time he made no +bones about saying that he had been poisoned. + +Even at the last Overbury had taken care to give Rochester a +chance to prove his fidelity. He contrived that the delivery of +the letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury should be delayed +until just before the nullity commission, now augmented by +members certain to vote according to the King's desire, was due +to sit again. The Archbishop carried Overbury's letter to James, +and insisted that Overbury should be heard. The King, outward +stickler that he was for the letter of the law, had to agree. + +On the Thursday of the week during which the commission was +sitting Overbury was due to be called. He was ill, but not so +ill as he had been. On the Tuesday he was visited by the King's +physician. On the Wednesday he was dead. + +Now, before we come to examine those evidences regarding +Overbury's death that were to be brought forward in the series of +trials of later date, that series which was to be known as ``the +Great Oyer of Poisoning,'' it may be well to consider what effect +upon the Essex nullity suit Overbury's appearance before the +commission might have had. It may be well to consider what +reason Rochester had for keeping his friend in close confinement +in the Tower, what reason there was for permitting Northampton to +impose such cruelly rigorous conditions of imprisonment. + +The nullity suit succeeded. A jury of matrons was impanelled, +and made an examination of the lady appellant. Its evidence was +that she was virgo intacta. Seven out of the twelve members of +the packed commission voted in favour of the sentence of nullity. + +The kernel of the situation lies in the verdict of the jury of +matrons. Her ladyship was declared to be a maid. If in the +finding gossips and scandal-mongers found reason for laughter, +and decent enough people cause for wonderment, they are hardly to +be blamed. If Frances Howard was a virgin, what reason was there +for fearing anything Overbury might have said? What knowledge +had he against the suit that put Rochester and the Howards in +such fear of him that they had to confine him in the Tower under +such miserable conditions? In what was he so dangerous that he +had to be deprived of his faithful Davies, that he had to be put +in the care of a Tower Lieutenant specially appointed? The +evidence given before the commission can still be read in almost +verbatim report. It is completely in favour of the plea of Lady +Essex. Sir Thomas Overbury's, had he given evidence, would have +been the sole voice against the suit. If he had said that in his +belief the association of her ladyship with Rochester had been +adulterous there was the physical fact adduced by the jury of +matrons to confute him. And being confuted in that, what might +he have said that would not be attributed to rancour on his part? +That her ladyship, with the help of Mrs Turner and the wizard of +Lambeth, had practised magic upon her husband, giving him powders +that went near to killing him? That she had lived in seclusion +for several months with her husband at Chartley, and that the +non-consummation of the marriage was due, not to the impotence of +the husband, but to refusal to him of marital rights on the part +of the wife because of her guilty love for Rochester? His +lordship of Essex was still alive, and there was abundant +evidence before the court that there had been attempt to +consummate the marriage. Whatever Sir Thomas might have said +would have smashed as evidence on that one fact. Her ladyship +was a virgin. + +What did Sir Thomas Overbury know that made every one whose +interest it was to further the nullity suit so scared of +him--Rochester, her ladyship, Northampton, the Howards, the King +himself? + +Sir Thomas Overbury was much too cool-minded, too intelligent, to +indulge in threats unless he was certain of the grounds, and +solid upon them, upon which he made those threats. He had too +great a knowledge of affairs not to know that the commission +would be a packed one, too great an acquaintance with the +strategy of James to believe that his lonely evidence, unless of +bombshell nature, would have a chance of carrying weight in a +court of his Majesty's picking. And, then, he was of too big a +mind to put forward evidence which would have no effect but that +of affording gossip for the scandal-mongers, and the giving of +which would make him appear to be actuated by petty spite. He +had too great a sense of his own dignity to give himself anything +but an heroic role. Samson he might play, pulling the pillars of +the temple together to involve his enemies, with himself, in +magnificent and dramatic ruin. But Iachimo--no. + +In the welter of evidence conflicting with apparent fact which +was given before the commission and in the trials of the Great +Oyer, in the mass of writing both contemporary and of later days +round the Overbury mystery, it is hard indeed to land upon the +truth. Feasible solution is to be come upon only by accepting a +not too pretty story which is retailed by Antony Weldon. He says +that the girl whom the jury of matrons declared to be virgo +intacta was so heavily veiled as to be unidentifiable through the +whole proceedings, and that she was not Lady Essex at all, but +the youthful daughter of Sir Thomas Monson. + +Mrs Turner, we do know, was very much a favourite with the ladies +of Sir Thomas Monson's family. Gossip Weldon has a funny, if +lewd, story to tell of high jinks indulged in by the Monson women +and Mrs Turner in which Symon, Monson's servant, played an odd +part. This Symon was also employed by Mrs Turner to carry food +to Overbury in the Tower. If the substitution story has any +truth in it it might well have been a Monson girl who played the +part of the Countess. But, of course, a Monson girl may have +been chosen by the inventors to give verisimilitude to the +substitution story, simply because the family was friendly with +Turner, and the tale of the lewd high jinks with Symon added to +make it seem more likely that old Lady Monson would lend herself +to such a plot. + +If there was such a plot it is not at all unlikely that Overbury +knew of it. If there was need of such a scheme to bolster the +nullity petition it would have had to be evolved while the +petition was being planned--that is, a month or two before the +commission went first into session. At that time Overbury was +still Rochester's secretary, still Rochester's confidant; and if +such a scheme had been evolved for getting over an obstacle so +fatal to the petition's success it was not in Rochester's nature +to have concealed it from Overbury, the two men still being fast +friends. Indeed, it may have been Overbury who pointed out the +need there would be for the Countess to undergo physical +examination, and it may have been on the certainty that her +ladyship could not do so that Overbury rested so securely--as he +most apparently did, beyond the point of safety--in the idea that +the suit was bound to fail. It is legitimate enough to suppose, +along this hypothesis, that this substitution plot was the very +matter on which the two men quarrelled. + +That Overbury had knowledge of some such essential secret as this +is manifest in the enmity towards the man which Lady Essex +exhibited, even when he lay, out of the way of doing harm, in the +Tower. It is hard to believe that an innocent girl of twenty, +conscious of her virgin chastity, in mere fear of scandal which +she knew would be baseless, could pursue the life of a man with +the venom that, as we shall presently see, Frances Howard used +towards Overbury through Mrs Turner. + + + +% V + +As a preliminary to his marriage with Frances Howard, Rochester +was created Earl of Somerset, and had the barony of Brancepeth +bestowed on him by the King. Overbury was three months in his +grave when the marriage was celebrated in the midst of the most +extravagant show and entertainment. + +The new Earl's power in the kingdom was never so high as at this +time. It was, indeed, at its zenith. Decline was soon to set +in. It will not serve here to follow the whole process of decay +in the King's favour that Somerset was now to experience. There +was poetic justice in his downfall. With hands all about him +itching to bring him to the ground, he had not the brain for the +giddy heights. If behind him there had been the man whose +guidance had made him sure-footed in the climb he might have +survived, flourishing. But the man he had consigned to death had +been more than half of him, had been, indeed, his substance. +Alone, with the power Overbury's talents had brought him, +Somerset was bound to fail. The irony of it is that his downfall +was contrived by a creature of his own raising. + +Somerset had appointed Sir Ralph Winwood to the office of First +Secretary of State. In that office word came to Winwood from +Brussels that new light had been thrown on the mysterious death +of Sir Thomas Overbury. Winwood investigated in secret. An +English lad, one Reeves, an apothecary's assistant, thinking +himself dying, had confessed at Flushing that Overbury had been +poisoned by an injection of corrosive sublimate. Reeves himself +had given the injection on the orders of his master, Loubel, the +apothecary who had attended Overbury on the day before his death. +Winwood sought out Loubel, and from him went to Sir Gervase +Elwes. The story he was able to make from what he had from the +two men he took to the King. From this beginning rose up the +Great Oyer of Poisoning. The matter was put into the hands of +the Lord Chief Justice, Sir Edward Coke. + +The lad Reeves, whose confession had started the matter, was +either dead or dying abroad, and was so out of Coke's reach. But +the man who had helped the lad to administer the poisoned +clyster, the under-keeper Weston, was at hand. Weston was +arrested, and examined by Coke. The statement Coke's bullying +drew from the man made mention of one Franklin, another +apothecary, as having supplied a phial which Sir Gervase Elwes +had taken and thrown away. Weston had also received another +phial by Franklin's son from Lady Essex. This also Sir Gervase +had taken and destroyed. Then there had been tarts and jellies +supplied by Mrs Turner. + +Coke had Mrs Turner and Franklin arrested, and after that Sir +Gervase was taken as an accessory, and on his statement that he +had employed Weston on Sir Thomas Monson's recommendation Sir +Thomas also was roped in. He maintained that he had been told to +recommend Weston by Lady Essex and the Earl of Northampton. + +The next person to be examined by Coke was the apothecary Loubel, +he who had attended Overbury on the day before his death. Though +in his confession the lad Reeves said that he had been given +money and sent abroad by Loubel, this was a matter that Coke did +not probe. Loubel told Coke that he had given Overbury nothing +but the physic prescribed by Sir Theodore Mayerne, the King's +physician, and that in his opinion Overbury had died of +consumption. With this evidence Coke was very strangely +content--or, at least, content as far as Loubel was concerned, +for this witness was not summoned again. + +Other persons were examined by Coke, notably Overbury's servant +Davies and his secretary Payton. Their statements served to +throw some suspicion on the Earl of Somerset. + +But if all the detail of these examinations were gone into we +should never be done. Our concern is with the two women +involved, Anne Turner and the Countess of Somerset, as we must +now call her. I am going to quote, however, two paragraphs from +Rafael Sabatini's romance The Minion that I think may explain why +it is so difficult to come to the truth of the Overbury mystery. +They indicate how it was smothered by the way in which Coke +rough-handled justice throughout the whole series of trials. + + +On October 19th, at the Guildhall, began the Great Oyer of +Poisoning, as Coke described it, with the trial of Richard +Weston. + +Thus at the very outset the dishonesty of the proceedings is +apparent. Weston was an accessory. Both on his own evidence and +that of Sir Gervase Elwes, besides the apothecary's boy in +Flushing, Sir Thomas Overbury had died following upon an +injection prepared by Loubel. Therefore Loubel was the +principal, and only after Loubel's conviction could the field +have been extended to include Weston and the others. But Loubel +was tried neither then nor subsequently, a circumstance regarded +by many as the most mysterious part of what is known as the +Overbury mystery, whereas, in fact, it is the clue to it. Nor +was the evidence of the coroner put in, so that there was no real +preliminary formal proof that Overbury had been poisoned at all. + + +Here Mr Sabatini is concerned to develop one of the underlying +arguments of his story--namely, that it was King James himself +who had ultimately engineered the death of Sir Thomas Overbury. +It is an argument which I would not attempt to refute. I do not +think that Mr Sabatini's acumen has failed him in the least. But +the point for me in the paragraphs is the indication they give of +how much Coke did to suppress all evidence that did not suit his +purpose. + +Weston's trial is curious in that at first he refused to plead. +It is the first instance I have met with in history of a prisoner +standing `mute of malice.' Coke read him a lecture on the +subject, pointing out that by his obstinacy he was making himself +liable to peine forte et dure, which meant that order could be +given for his exposure in an open place near the prison, extended +naked, and to have weights laid upon him in increasing amount, he +being kept alive with the ``coarsest bread obtainable and water +from the nearest sink or puddle to the place of execution, that +day he had water having no bread, and that day he had bread +having no water.'' One may imagine with what grim satisfaction +Coke ladled this out. It had its effect on Weston. + +He confessed that Mrs Turner had promised to give him a reward if +he would poison Sir Thomas Overbury. In May she had sent him a +phial of ``rosalgar,'' and he had received from her tarts +poisoned with mercury sublimate. He was charged with having, at +Mrs Turner's instance, joined with an apothecary's boy in +administering an injection of corrosive sublimate to Sir Thomas +Overbury, from which the latter died. Coke's conduct of the case +obscures just how much Weston admitted, but, since it convinced +the jury of Weston's guilt, the conviction served finely for +accusation against Mrs Turner. + +Two days after conviction Weston was executed at Tyburn. + +The trial of Anne Turner began in the first week of November. It +would be easy to make a pathetic figure of the comely little +widow as she stood trembling under Coke's bullying, but she was, +in actual fact, hardly deserving of pity. It is far from +enlivening to read of Coke's handling of the trial, and it is +certain that Mrs Turner was condemned on an indictment and +process which to-day would not have a ghost of a chance of +surviving appeal, but it is perfectly plain that Anne was party +to one of the most vicious poisoning plots ever engineered. + +We have, however, to consider this point in extenuation for her. +It is almost certain that in moving to bring about the death of +Overbury she had sanction, if only tacit, from the Earl of +Northampton. By the time that the Great Oyer began Northampton +was dead. Two years had elapsed from the death of Overbury. It +would be quite clear to Anne that, in the view of the powerful +Howard faction, the elimination of Overbury was politically +desirable. It should be remembered, too, that she lived in a +period when assassination, secret or by subverted process of +justice, was a commonplace political weapon. Public executions +by methods cruel and even obscene taught the people to hold human +life at small value, and hardened them to cruelties that made +poisoning seem a mercy. It is not at all unlikely that, though +her main object may have been to help forward the plans of her +friend the Countess, Anne considered herself a plotter in high +affairs of State. + +The indictment against her was that she had comforted, aided, and +abetted Weston--that is to say, she was made an accessory. If, +however, as was accused, she procured Weston and Reeves to +administer the poisonous injection she was certainly a principal, +and as such should have been tried first or at the same time as +Weston. But Weston was already hanged, and so could not be +questioned. His various statements were used against her +unchallenged, or, at least, when challenging them was useless. + +The indictment made no mention of her practices against the Earl +of Essex, but from the account given in the State Trials it would +seem that evidence on this score was used to build the case +against her. Her relations with Dr Forman, now safely dead, were +made much of. She and the Countess of Essex had visited the +charlatan and had addressed him as ``Father.'' Their reason for +visiting, it was said, was that ``by force of magick he should +procure the then Viscount of Rochester to love the Countess and +Sir Arthur Mainwaring to love Mrs Turner, by whom she had three +children.'' Letters from the Countess to Turner were read. They +revealed the use on Lord Essex of those powders her ladyship had +been given by Forman. The letters had been found by Forman's +wife in a packet among Forman's possessions after his death. +These, with others and with several curious objects exhibited in +court, had been demanded by Mrs Turner after Forman's demise. +Mrs Turner had kept them, and they were found in her house. + +As indicating the type of magic practised by Forman these objects +are of interest. Among other figures, probably nothing more than +dolls of French make, there was a leaden model of a man and woman +in the act of copulation, with the brass mould from which it had +been cast. There was a black scarf ornamented with white +crosses, papers with cabalistic signs, and sundry other exhibits +which appear to have created superstitious fear in the crowd +about the court. It is amusing to note that while those exhibits +were being examined one of the scaffolds erected for seating gave +way or cracked ominously, giving the crowd a thorough scare. It +was thought that the devil himself, raised by the power of those +uncanny objects, had got into the Guildhall. Consternation +reigned for quite a quarter of an hour. + +There was also exhibited Forman's famous book of signatures, in +which Coke is supposed to have encountered his own wife's name on +the first page. + +Franklin, apothecary, druggist, necromancer, wizard, and born +liar, had confessed to supplying the poisons intended for use +upon Overbury. He declared that Mrs Turner had come to him from +the Countess and asked him to get the strongest poisons +procurable. He ``accordingly bought seven: viz., aqua fortis, +white arsenic, mercury, powder of diamonds, lapis costitus, great +spiders, cantharides.'' Franklin's evidence is a palpable tissue +of lies, full of statements that contradict each other, but it is +likely enough, judging from facts elicited elsewhere, that his +list of poisons is accurate. Enough poison passed from hand to +hand to have slain an army. + +Mention is made by Weldon of the evidence given by Symon, servant +to Sir Thomas Monson, who had been employed by Mrs Turner to +carry a jelly and a tart to the Tower. Symon appears to have +been a witty fellow. He was, ``for his pleasant answer,'' +dismissed by Coke. + + +My lord told him: ``Symon, you have had a hand in this poisoning +business----'' + +``No, my good lord, I had but a finger in it, which almost cost +me my life, and, at the best, cost me all my hair and nails.'' +For the truth was that Symon was somewhat liquorish, and finding +the syrup swim from the top of the tart as he carried it, he did +with his finger skim it off: and it was believed, had he known +what it had been, he would not have been his taster at so dear a +rate. + +Coke, with his bullying methods and his way of acting both as +judge and chief prosecutor, lacks little as prototype for the +later Judge Jeffreys. Even before the jury retired he was at +pains to inform Mrs Turner that she had the seven deadly sins: +viz., a whore, a bawd, a sorcerer, a witch, a papist, a felon, +and a murderer, the daughter of the devil Forman.''[13] And +having given such a Christian example throughout the trial, he +besought her ``to repent, and to become the servant of Jesus +Christ, and to pray Him to cast out the seven devils.'' It was +upon this that Anne begged the Lord Chief Justice to be merciful +to her, putting forward the plea of having been brought up with +the Countess of Essex, and of having been ``a long time her +servant.'' She declared that she had not known of poison in the +things that were sent to Sir Thomas Overbury. + + +[13] State Trials. + + + +The jury's retirement was not long-drawn. They found her guilty. + +Says Weldon: + +The Wednesday following she was brought from the sheriff's in a +coach to Newgate and there was put into a cart, and casting money +often among the people as she was carried to Tyburn, where she +was executed, and whither many men and women of fashion followed +her in coaches to see her die. + +Her speeches before execution were pious, like most speeches of +the sort, and ``moved the spectators to great pity and grief for +her.'' She again related ``her breeding with the Countess of +Somerset,'' and pleaded further of ``having had no other means to +maintain her and her children but what came from the Countess.'' +This last, of course, was less than the truth. Anne was not so +indigent that she needed to take to poisoning as a means of +supporting her family. She also said ``that when her hand was +once in this business she knew the revealing of it would be her +overthrow.'' + +In more than one account written later of her execution she is +said to have worn a ruff and cuffs dressed with the yellow starch +which she had made so fashionable, and it is maintained that this +association made the starch thereafter unpopular. It is +forgotten that with Anne the recipe for the yellow starch +probably was lost. Moreover, the elaborate ruff was then being +put out of fashion by the introduction of the much more +comfortable lace collar. In any case, ``There is no truth,'' +writes Judge Parry, + + +in the old story[14] that Coke ordered her to be executed in the +yellow ruff she had made the fashion and so proudly worn in +Court. What did happen, according to Sir Simonds d'Ewes, was +that the hangman, a coarse ruffian with a distorted sense of +humour, dressed himself in bands and cuffs of yellow colour, but +no one heeded his ribaldry; only in after days none of either sex +used the yellow starch, and the fashion grew generally to be +detested. + + +[14] Probably started by Michael Sparke (``Scintilla'') in Truth +Brought to Light (1651). + + + +Pretty much, I should think, as the tall `choker' became detested +within the time of many of us. After Mrs Turner Sir Gervase +Elwes was brought to trial as an accessory. The only evidence +against him was that of the liar Franklin, who asserted that Sir +Gervase had been in league with the Countess. It was plain, +however, both from Weston's statements and from Sir Gervase's +own, that the Lieutenant of the Tower had done his very best to +defeat the Turner-Essex-Northampton plot for the poisoning of +Overbury, throwing away the ``rosalgar'' and later draughts, as +well as substituting food from his own kitchen for that sent in +by Turner. ``Although it must have been clear that if any of +what was alleged against him had been true Overbury's poisoning +would never have taken five months to accomplish, he was +sentenced and hanged.''[15] + + +[15] Sabatini, The Minion. + + + +This, of course, was a glaring piece of injustice, but Coke no +doubt had his instructions. Weston, Mrs Turner, Elwes, and, +later, Franklin had to be got out of the way, so that they could +not be confronted with the chief figure against whom the Great +Oyer was directed, and whom it was designed to pull down, Robert +Carr, Earl of Somerset --and with him his wife. Just as much of +the statements and confessions of the prisoners in the four +preliminary trials was used by Coke as suited his purpose. It is +pointed out by Amos, in his Great Oyer of Poisoning, that a large +number of the documents appertaining to the Somerset trial show +corrections and apparent glosses in Coke's own handwriting, and +that even the confessions on the scaffold of some of the +convicted are holographs by Coke. As a sample of the suppression +of which Coke was guilty I may put forward the fact that +Somerset's note to his own physician, Craig, asking him to visit +Overbury, was not produced. Yet great play was made by Coke of +this visit against Somerset. Wrote Somerset to Craig, ``I pray +you let him have your best help, and as much of your company as +he shall require.'' + +It was never proved that it was Anne Turner and Lady Essex who +corrupted the lad Reeves, who with Weston administered the +poisoned clyster that murdered Overbury. Nothing was done at all +to absolve the apothecary Loubel, Reeves's master, of having +prepared the poisonous injection, nor Sir Theodore Mayerne, the +King's physician, of having been party to its preparation. Yet +it was demonstrably the injection that killed Overbury if he was +killed by poison at all. It is certain that the poisons sent to +the Tower by Turner and the Countess did not save in early +instances, get to Overbury at all--Elwes saw to that--or Overbury +must have died months before he did die. + +According to Weldon, who may be supposed to have witnessed the +trials, Franklin confessed ``that Overbury was smothered to +death, not poisoned to death, though he had poison given him.'' +And Weldon goes on to make this curious comment: + + +Here was Coke glad, how to cast about to bring both ends +together, Mrs Turner and Weston being already hanged for killing +Overbury with poison; but he, being the very quintessence of the +law, presently informs the jury that if a man be done to death +with pistols, poniards, swords, halter, poison, etc., so he be +done to death, the indictment is good if he be but indicted for +any of those ways. But the good lawyers of those times were not +of that opinion, but did believe that Mrs Turner was directly +murthered by my lord Coke's law as Overbury was without any law. + + +Though you will look in vain through the reports given in the +State Trials for any speech of Coke to the jury in exactly these +terms, it might be just as well to remember that the +transcriptions from which the Trials are printed were prepared +UNDER Coke's SUPERVISION, and that they, like the confessions of +the convicted, are very often in his own handwriting. + +At all events, even on the bowdlerized evidence that exists, it +is plain that Anne Turner should have been charged only with +attempted murder. Of that she was manifestly guilty and, +according to the justice of the time, thoroughly deserved to be +hanged. The indictment against her was faulty, and the case +against her as full of holes as a colander. Her trial was +`cooked' in more senses than one. + +It was some seven months after the execution of Anne Turner that +the Countess of Essex was brought to trial. This was in May. In +December, while virtually a prisoner under the charge of Sir +William Smith at Lord Aubigny's house in Blackfriars, she had +given birth to a daughter. In March she had been conveyed to the +Tower, her baby being handed over to the care of her mother, the +Countess of Suffolk. Since the autumn of the previous year she +had not been permitted any communication with her husband, nor he +with her. He was already lodged in the Tower when she arrived +there. + +On a day towards the end of May she was conveyed by water from +the Tower to Westminster Hall. The hall was packed to +suffocation, seats being paid for at prices which would turn a +modern promoter of a world's heavyweight-boxing-championship +fight green with envy. Her judges were twenty-two peers of the +realm, with the Lord High Steward, the Lord Chief Justice, and +seven judges at law. It was a pageant of colour, in the midst of +which the woman on trial, in her careful toilette, consisting of +a black stammel gown, a cypress chaperon or black crepe hood in +the French fashion, relieved by touches of white in the cuffs and +ruff of cobweb lawn, struck a funereal note. Preceded by the +headsman carrying his axe with its edge turned away from her, she +was conducted to the bar by the Lieutenant of the Tower. The +indictment was read to her, and at its end came the question: +``Frances Howard, Countess of Somerset, how sayest thou? Art +thou guilty of this felony and murder or not guilty?'' + +There was a hushed pause for a moment; then came the low-voiced +answer: ``Guilty.'' + +Sir Francis Bacon, the Attorney-General--himself to appear in the +same place not long after to answer charges of bribery and +corruption--now addressed the judges. His eloquent address was a +commendation of the Countess's confession, and it hinted at royal +clemency. + +In answer to the formal demand of the Clerk of Arraigns if she +had anything to say why judgment of death should not be given +against her the Countess made a barely audible plea for mercy, +begging their lordships to intercede for her with the King. Then +the Lord High Steward, expressing belief that the King would be +moved to mercy, delivered judgment. She was to be taken thence +to the Tower of London, thence to the place of execution, where +she was to be hanged by the neck until she was dead--and might +the Lord have mercy on her soul. + +The attendant women hastened to the side of the swaying woman. +And now the halbardiers formed escort about her, the headsman in +front, with the edge of his axe turned towards her in token of +her conviction, and she was led away. + + + +% VI + +It is perfectly clear that the Countess of Somerset was led to +confess on the promise of the King's mercy. It is equally clear +that she did not know what she was confessing to. Whatever might +have been her conspiracy with Anne Turner it is a practical +certainty that it did not result in the death of Thomas Overbury. +There is no record of her being allowed any legal advice in the +seven months that had elapsed since she had first been made a +virtual prisoner. She had been permitted no communication with +her husband. For all she knew, Overbury might indeed have died +from the poison which she had caused to be sent to the Tower in +such quantity and variety. And she went to trial at Westminster +guilty in conscience, her one idea being to take the blame for +having brought about the murder of Overbury, thinking by that to +absolve her husband of any share in the plot. She could not have +known that her plea of guilty would weaken Somerset's defence. +The woman who could go to such lengths in order to win her +husband was unlikely to have done anything that might put him in +jeopardy. One can well imagine with what fierceness she would +have fought her case had she thought that by doing so she could +have helped the man she loved. + +But Frances Howard, no less than her accomplice Anne Turner, was +the victim of a gross subversion of justice. That she was guilty +of a cruel and determined attempt to poison Overbury is beyond +question, and, being guilty of that, she was thoroughly deserving +of the fate that overcame Anne Turner, but that at the last she +was allowed to escape. Her confession, however, shackled +Somerset at his trial. It put her at the King's mercy. Without +endangering her life Somerset dared not come to the crux of his +defence, which would have been to demand why Loubel had been +allowed to go free, and why the King's physician, Mayerne, had +not been examined. To prevent Somerset from asking those +questions, which must have given the public a sufficient hint of +King James's share in the murder of Overbury, two men stood +behind the Earl all through his trial with cloaks over their +arms, ready to muffle him. But, whatever may be said of +Somerset, the prospect of the cloaks would not have stopped him +from attempting those questions. He had sent word to King James +that he was ``neither Gowrie nor Balmerino,'' those two earlier +victims of James's treachery. The thing that muffled him was the +threat to withdraw the promised mercy to his Countess. And so he +kept silent, to be condemned to death as his wife had been, and +to join her in the Tower. + +Five weary years were the couple to eat their hearts out there, +their death sentences remitted, before their ultimate banishment +far from the Court to a life of impoverished obscurity in the +country. Better for them, one would think, if they had died on +Tower Green. It is hard to imagine that the dozen years or so +which they were to spend together could contain anything of +happiness for them--she the confessed would-be poisoner, and he +haunted by the memory of that betrayal of friendship which had +begun the process of their double ruin. Frances Howard died in +1632, her husband twenty-three years later. The longer lease of +life could have been no blessing to the fallen favourite. + +There is a portrait of Frances Howard in the National Portrait +Gallery by an unknown artist. It is an odd little face which +appears above the elaborate filigree of the stiff lace ruff and +under the carefully dressed bush of dark brown hair. With her +gay jacket of red gold-embroidered, and her gold-ornamented grey +gown, cut low to show the valley between her young breasts, she +looks like a child dressed up. If there is no great indication +of the beauty which so many poets shed ink over there is less +promise of the dire determination which was to pursue a man's +life with cruel poisons over several months. It is, however, a +narrow little face, and there is a tight-liddedness about the +eyes which in an older woman might indicate the bigot. Bigot she +proved herself to be, if it be bigotry in a woman to love a man +with an intensity that will not stop at murder in order to win +him. That is the one thing that may be said for Frances Howard. +She did love Robert Carr. She loved him to his ruin. + + + + +IV: A MODEL FOR MR HOGARTH + +On a Sunday, the 5th of February, 1733, there came toddling into +that narrow passage of the Temple known as Tanfield Court an +elderly lady by the name of Mrs Love. It was just after one +o'clock of the afternoon. The giants of St Dunstan's behind her +had only a minute before rapped out the hour with their clubs. + +Mrs Love's business was at once charitable and social. She was +going, by appointment made on the previous Friday night, to eat +dinner with a frail old lady named Mrs Duncomb, who lived in +chambers on the third floor of one of the buildings that had +entry from the court. Mrs Duncomb was the widow of a law +stationer of the City. She had been a widow for a good number of +years. The deceased law stationer, if he had not left her rich, +at least had left her in fairly comfortable circumstances. It +was said about the environs that she had some property, and this +fact, combined with the other that she was obviously nearing the +end of life's journey, made her an object of melancholy interest +to the womenkind of the neighbourhood. + +Mrs Duncomb was looked after by a couple of servants. One of +them, Betty Harrison, had been the old lady's companion for a +lifetime. Mrs Duncomb, described as ``old,'' was only sixty.[16] +Her weakness and bodily condition seem to have made her appear +much older. Betty, then, also described as ``old,'' may have +been of an age with her mistress, or even older. She was, at all +events, not by much less frail. The other servant was a +comparatively new addition to the establishment, a fresh little +girl of about seventeen, Ann (or Nanny) Price by name. + + +[16] According to one account. The Newgate Calendar (London +1773) gives Mrs Duncomb's age as eighty and that of the maid +Betty as sixty. + + + +Mrs Love climbed the three flights of stairs to the top landing. +It surprised her, or disturbed her, but little that she found no +signs of life on the various floors, because it was, as we have +seen, a Sunday. The occupants of the chambers of the staircase, +mostly gentlemen connected in one way or another with the law, +would be, she knew abroad for the eating of their Sunday dinners, +either at their favourite taverns or at commons in the Temple +itself. What did rather disturb kindly Mrs Love was the fact +that she found Mrs Duncomb's outer door closed--an unwonted +fact--and it faintly surprised her that no odour of cooking +greeted her nostrils. + +Mrs Love knocked. There was no reply. She knocked, indeed, at +intervals over a period of some fifteen minutes, still obtaining +no response. The disturbed sense of something being wrong became +stronger and stronger in the mind of Mrs Love. + +On the night of the previous Friday she had been calling upon Mrs +Duncomb, and she had found the old lady very weak, very nervous, +and very low in spirits. It had not been a very cheerful visit +all round, because the old maidservant, Betty Harrison, had also +been far from well. There had been a good deal of talk between +the old women of dying, a subject to which their minds had been +very prone to revert. Besides Mrs Love there were two other +visitors, but they too failed to cheer the old couple up. One of +the visitors, a laundress of the Temple called Mrs Oliphant, had +done her best, poohpoohing such melancholy talk, and attributing +the low spirits in which the old women found themselves to the +bleakness of the February weather, and promising them that they +would find a new lease of life with the advent of spring. But +Mrs Betty especially had been hard to console. + +``My mistress,'' she had said to cheerful Mrs Oliphant, ``will +talk of dying. And she would have me die with her.'' + +As she stood in considerable perturbation of mind on the +cheerless third-floor landing that Sunday afternoon Mrs Love +found small matter for comfort in her memory of the Friday +evening. She remembered that old Mrs Duncomb had spoken +complainingly of the lonesomeness which had come upon her floor +by the vacation of the chambers opposite her on the landing. The +tenant had gone a day or two before, leaving the rooms empty of +furniture, and the key with a Mr Twysden. + +Mrs. Love, turning to view the door opposite to that on which she +had been rapping so long and so ineffectively, had a shuddery +feeling that she was alone on the top of the world. + +She remembered how she had left Mrs Duncomb on the Friday night. +Mrs Oliphant had departed first, accompanied by the second +visitor, one Sarah Malcolm, a charwoman who had worked for Mrs +Duncomb up to the previous Christmas, and who had called in to +see how her former employer was faring. An odd, silent sort of +young woman this Sarah, good-looking in a hardfeatured sort of +way, she had taken but a very small part in the conversation, but +had sat staring rather sullenly into the fire by the side of +Betty Harrison, or else casting a flickering glance about the +room. Mrs Love, before following the other two women downstairs, +had helped the ailing Betty to get Mrs Duncomb settled for the +night. In the dim candle-light and the faint glow of the fire +that scarce illumined the wainscoted room the high tester-bed of +the old lady, with its curtains, had seemed like a shadowed +catafalque, an illusion nothing lessened by the frail old figure +under the bedclothing. + +It came to the mind of Mrs Love that the illness manifesting +itself in Betty on the Friday night had worsened. Nanny, she +imagined, must have gone abroad on some errand. The old servant, +she thought, was too ill to come to the door, and her voice would +be too weak to convey an answer to the knocking. Mrs Love, not +without a shudder for the chill feeling of that top landing, +betook herself downstairs again to make what inquiry she might. +It happened that she met one of her fellow-visitors of the Friday +night, Mrs Oliphant. + +Mrs Oliphant was sympathetic, but could not give any information. +She had seen no member of the old lady's establishment that day. +She could only advise Mrs Love to go upstairs again and knock +louder. + +This Mrs Love did, but again got no reply. She then evolved the +theory that Betty had died during the night, and that Nanny, Mrs +Duncomb being confined to bed, had gone to look for help, +possibly from her sister, and to find a woman who would lay out +the body of the old servant. With this in her mind Mrs Love +descended the stairs once more, and went to look for another +friend of Mrs Duncomb's, a Mrs Rhymer. + +Mrs Rhymer was a friend of the old lady's of some thirty years' +standing. She was, indeed, named as executrix in Mrs Duncomb's +will. Mrs Love finding her and explaining the situation as she +saw it, Mrs Rhymer at once returned with Mrs Love to Tanfield +Court. + +The two women ascended the stairs, and tried pushing the old +lady's door. It refused to yield to their efforts. Then Mrs +Love went to the staircase window that overlooked the court, and +gazed around to see if there was anyone about who might help. +Some distance away, at the door, we are told, ``of my Lord Bishop +of Bangor,'' was the third of Friday night's visitors to Mrs +Duncomb, the charwoman named Sarah Malcolm. Mrs Love hailed her. + +``Prithee, Sarah,'' begged Mrs Love, ``go and fetch a smith to +open Mrs Duncomb's door.'' + +``I will go at all speed,'' Sarah assured her, with ready +willingness, and off she sped. Mrs Love and Mrs Rhymer waited +some time. Sarah came back with Mrs Oliphant in tow, but had +been unable to secure the services of a locksmith. This was +probably due to the fact that it was a Sunday. + +By now both Mrs Love and Mrs Rhymer had become deeply +apprehensive, and the former appealed to Mrs Oliphant. ``I do +believe they are all dead, and the smith is not come!'' cried Mrs +Love. ``What shall we do, Mrs Oliphant?'' + +Mrs Oliphant, much younger than the others, seems to have been a +woman of resource. She had from Mr Twysden, she said, the key of +the vacant chambers opposite to Mrs Duncomb's. ``Now let me +see,'' she continued, ``if I cannot get out of the back chamber +window into the gutter, and so into Mrs Duncomb's apartment.'' + +The other women urged her to try.[17] Mrs Oliphant set off, her +heels echoing in the empty rooms. Presently the waiting women +heard a pane snap, and they guessed that Mrs Oliphant had broken +through Mrs Duncomb's casement to get at the handle. They heard, +through the door, the noise of furniture being moved as she got +through the window. Then came a shriek, the scuffle of feet. +The outer door of Mrs Duncomb's chambers was flung open. Mrs +Oliphant, ashen-faced, appeared on the landing. ``God! Oh, +gracious God!'' she cried. ``They're all murdered! + + +[17] One account says it was Sarah Malcolm who entered via the +gutter and window. Borrow, however, in his Celebrated Trials, +quotes Mrs Oliphant's evidence in court on this point. + + + +% II + +All four women pressed into the chambers. All three of the women +occupying them had been murdered. In the passage or lobby little +Nanny Price lay in her bed in a welter of blood, her throat +savagely cut. Her hair was loose and over her eyes, her clenched +hands all bloodied about her throat. It was apparent that she +had struggled desperately for life. Next door, in the +dining-room, old Betty Harrison lay across the press-bed in which +she usually slept. Being in the habit of keeping her gown on for +warmth, as it was said, she was partially dressed. She had been +strangled, it seemed, ``with an apron-string or a pack-thread,'' +for there was a deep crease about her neck and the bruised +indentations as of knuckles. In her bedroom, also across her +bed, lay the dead body of old Mrs Duncomb. There had been here +also an attempt to strangle, an unnecessary attempt it appeared, +for the crease about the neck was very faint. Frail as the old +lady had been, the mere weight of the murderer's body, it was +conjectured, had been enough to kill her. + +These pathological details were established on the arrival later +of Mr Bigg, the surgeon, fetched from the Rainbow Coffee-house +near by by Fairlow, one of the Temple porters. But the four +women could see enough for themselves, without the help of Mr +Bigg, to understand how death had been dealt in all three cases. +They could see quite clearly also for what motive the crime had +been committed. A black strong-box, with papers scattered about +it, lay beside Mrs Duncomb's bed, its lid forced open. It was in +this box that the old lady had been accustomed to keep her money. + +If any witness had been needed to say what the black box had +contained there was Mrs Rhymer, executrix under the old lady's +will. And if Mrs. Rhymer had been at any need to refresh her +memory regarding the contents opportunity had been given her no +farther back than the afternoon of the previous Thursday. On +that day she had called upon Mrs Duncomb to take tea and to talk +affairs. Three or four years before, with her rapidly increasing +frailness, the old lady's memory had begun to fail. Mrs Rhymer +acted for her as a sort of unofficial curator bonis, receiving +her money and depositing it in the black box, of which she kept +the key. + +On the Thursday, old Betty and young Nanny being sent from the +room, the old lady had told Mrs Rhymer that she needed some +money--a guinea. Mrs Rhymer had gone through the solemn process +of opening the black box, and, one must suppose--old ladies +nearing their end being what they are--had been at need to tell +over the contents of the box for the hundredth time, just to +reassure Mrs Duncomb that she thoroughly understood the duties +she had agreed to undertake as executrix + +At the top of the box was a silver tankard. It had belonged to +Mrs Duncomb's husband. In the tankard was a hundred pounds. +Beside the tankard lay a bag containing guinea pieces to the +number of twenty or so. This was the bag that Mrs Rhymer had +carried over to the old lady's chair by the fire, in order to +take from it the needed guinea. + +There were some half-dozen packets of money in the box, each +sealed with black wax and set aside for particular purposes after +Mrs Duncomb's death. Other sums, greater in quantity than those +contained in the packets, were earmarked in the same way. There +was, for example, twenty guineas set aside for the old lady's +burial, eighteen moidores to meet unforeseen contingencies, and +in a green purse some thirty or forty shillings, which were to be +distributed among poor people of Mrs Duncomb's acquaintance. The +ritual of telling over the box contents, if something ghostly, +had had its usual effect of comforting the old lady's mind. It +consoled her to know that all arrangements were in order for her +passing in genteel fashion to her long home, that all the +decorums of respectable demise would be observed, and that ``the +greatest of these'' would not be forgotten. The ritual over, the +black box was closed and locked, and on her departure Mrs Rhymer +had taken away the key as usual. + +The motive for the crime, as said, was plain. The black box had +been forced, and there was no sign of tankard, packets, green +purse, or bag of guineas. + +The horror and distress of the old lady's friends that Sunday +afternoon may better be imagined than described. Loudest of the +four, we are told, was Sarah Malcolm. It is also said that she +was, however, the coolest, keen to point out the various methods +by which the murderers (for the crime to her did not look like a +single-handed effort) could have got into the chambers. She drew +attention to the wideness of the kitchen chimney and to the +weakness of the lock in the door to the vacant rooms on the other +side of the landing. She also pointed out that, since the bolt +of the spring-lock of the outer door to Mrs Duncomb's rooms had +been engaged when they arrived, the miscreants could not have +used that exit. + +This last piece of deduction on Sarah's part, however, was made +rather negligible by experiments presently carried out by the +porter, Fairlow, with the aid of a piece of string. He showed +that a person outside the shut door could quite easily pull the +bolt to on the inside. + +The news of the triple murder quickly spread, and it was not long +before a crowd had collected in Tanfield Court, up the stairs to +Mrs. Duncomb's landing, and round about the door of Mrs Duncomb's +chambers. It did not disperse until the officers had made their +investigations and the bodies of the three victims had been +removed. And even then, one may be sure, there would still be a +few of those odd sort of people hanging about who, in those times +as in these, must linger on the scene of a crime long after the +last drop of interest has evaporated. + + + + +% III + +Two further actors now come upon the scene. And for the proper +grasping of events we must go back an hour or two in time to +notice their activities. + +They are a Mr Gehagan, a young Irish barrister, and a friend of +his named Kerrel.[18] These young men occupy chambers on +opposite sides of the same landing, the third floor, over the +Alienation Office in Tanfield Court. + + +[18] Or Kerrol--the name varies in different accounts of the +crime. + + + +Mr Gehagan was one of Sarah Malcolm's employers. That Sunday +morning at nine she had appeared in his rooms to do them up and +to light the fire. While Gehagan was talking to Sarah he was +joined by his friend Kerrel, who offered to stand him some tea. +Sarah was given a shilling and sent out to buy tea. She returned +and made the brew, then remained about the chambers until the +horn blew, as was then the Temple custom, for commons. The two +young men departed. After commons they walked for a while in the +Temple Gardens, then returned to Tanfield Court. + +By this time the crowd attracted by the murder was blocking up +the court, and Gehagan asked what was the matter. He was told of +the murder, and he remarked to Kerrel that the old lady had been +their charwoman's acquaintance. + +The two friends then made their way to a coffee-house in Covent +Garden. There was some talk there of the murder, and the theory +was advanced by some one that it could have been done only by +some laundress who knew the chambers and how to get in and out of +them. From Covent Garden, towards night, Gehagan and Kerrel went +to a tavern in Essex Street, and there they stayed carousing +until one o'clock in the morning, when they left for the Temple. +They were not a little astonished on reaching their common +landing to find Kerrel's door open, a fire burning in the grate +of his room, and a candle on the table. By the fire, with a dark +riding-hood about her head, was Sarah Malcolm. To Kerrel's +natural question of what she was doing there at such an unearthly +hour she muttered something about having things to collect. +Kerrel then, reminding her that Mrs Duncomb had been her +acquaintance, asked her if anyone had been ``taken up'' for the +murder. + +``That Mr Knight,'' Sarah replied, ``who has chambers under her, +has been absent two or three days. He is suspected.'' + +``Well,'' said Kerrel, remembering the theory put forward in the +coffee-house, and made suspicious by her presence at that strange +hour, ``nobody that was acquainted with Mrs Duncomb is wanted +here until the murderer is discovered. Look out your things, +therefore, and begone!'' + +Kerrel's suspicion thickened, and he asked his friend to run +downstairs and call up the watch. Gehagan ran down, but found +difficulty in opening the door below, and had to return. Kerrel +himself went down then, and came back with two watchmen. They +found Sarah in the bedroom at a chest of drawers, in which she +was turning over some linen that she claimed to be hers. The now +completely suspicious Kerrel went to his closet, and noticed that +two or three waistcoats were missing from a portmanteau. He +asked Sarah where they were; upon which Sarah, with an eye to the +watchmen and to Gehagan, begged to be allowed to speak with him +alone. + +Kerrel refused, saying he could have no business with her that +was secret. + +Sarah then confessed that she had pawned the missing waistcoats +for two guineas, and begged him not to be angry. Kerrel asked +her why she had not asked him for money. He could readily +forgive her for pawning the waistcoats, but, having heard her +talk of Mrs Lydia Duncomb, he was afraid she was concerned with +the murder. A pair of earrings were found in the drawers, and +these Sarah claimed, putting them in her corsage. An odd-looking +bundle in the closet then attracted Kerrel's attention, and he +kicked it, and asked Sarah what it was. She said it was merely +dirty linen wrapped up in an old gown. She did not wish it +exposed. Kerrel made further search, and found that other things +were missing. He told the watch to take the woman and hold her +strictly. + +Sarah was led away. Kerrel, now thoroughly roused, continued his +search, and he found underneath his bed another bundle. He also +came upon some bloodstained linen in another place, and in a +close-stool a silver tankard, upon the handle of which was a lot +of dried blood. + +Kerrel's excitement passed to Gehagan, and the two of them went +at speed downstairs yelling for the watch. After a little the +two watchmen reappeared, but without Sarah. They had let her go, +they said, because they had found nothing on her, and, besides, +she had not been charged before a constable. + +One here comes upon a recital by the watchmen which reveals the +extraordinary slackness in dealing with suspect persons that +characterized the guardians of the peace in London in those +times. They had let the woman go, but she had come back. Her +home was in Shoreditch, she said, and rather than walk all that +way on a cold and boisterous night she had wanted to sit up in +the watch-house. The watchmen refused to let her do this, but +ordered her to ``go about her business,'' advising her sternly at +the same time to turn up again by ten o'clock in the morning. +Sarah had given her word, and had gone away. + +On hearing this story Kerrel became very angry, threatening the +two watchmen, Hughes and Mastreter, with Newgate if they did not +pick her up again immediately. Upon this the watchmen scurried +off as quickly as their age and the cumbrous nature of their +clothing would let them. They found Sarah in the company of two +other watchmen at the gate of the Temple. Hughes, as a means of +persuading her to go with them more easily, told her that Kerrel +wanted to speak with her, and that he was not angry any longer. +Presently, in Tanfield Court, they came on the two young men +carrying the tankard and the bloodied linen. This time it was +Gehagan who did the talking. He accused Sarah furiously, showing +her the tankard. Sarah attempted to wipe the blood off the +tankard handle with her apron. Gehagan stopped her. + +Sarah said the tankard was her own. Her mother had given it her, +and she had had it for five years. It was to get the tankard out +of pawn that she had taken Kerrel's waistcoats, needing thirty +shillings. The blood on the handle was due to her having pricked +a finger. + +With this began the series of lies Sarah Malcolm put up in her +defence. She was hauled into the watchman's box and more +thoroughly searched. A green silk purse containing twenty-one +guineas was found in the bosom of her dress. This purse Sarah +declared she had found in the street, and as an excuse for its +cleanliness, unlikely with the streets as foul as they were at +that age and time of year, said she had washed it. Both bundles +of linen were bloodstained. There was some doubt as to the +identity of the green purse. Mrs Rhymer, who, as we have seen, +was likelier than anyone to recognize it, would not swear it was +the green purse that had been in Mrs Duncomb's black box. There +was, however, no doubt at all about the tankard. It had the +initials ``C. D.'' engraved upon it, and was at once identified +as Mrs Duncomb's. The linen which Sarah had been handling in Mr +Kerrel's drawer was said to be darned in a way recognizable as +Mrs Duncomb's. It had lain beside the tankard and the money in +the black box. + + + +% IV + +There was, it will be seen, but very little doubt of Sarah +Malcolm's guilt. According to the reports of her trial, however, +she fought fiercely for her life, questioning the witnesses +closely. Some of them, such as could remember small points +against her, but who failed in recollection of the colour of her +dress or of the exact number of the coins said to be lost, she +vehemently denounced. + +One of the Newgate turnkeys told how some of the missing money +was discovered. Being brought from the Compter to Newgate, Sarah +happened to see a room in which debtors were confined. She asked +the turnkey, Roger Johnson, if she could be kept there. Johnson +replied that it would cost her a guinea, but that from her +appearance it did not look to him as if she could afford so much. +Sarah seems to have bragged then, saying that if the charge was +twice or thrice as much she could send for a friend who would pay +it. Her attitude probably made the turnkey suspicious. At any +rate, after Sarah had mixed for some time with the felons in the +prison taproom, Johnson called her out and, lighting the way by +use of a link, led her to an empty room. + +``Child,'' he said, ``there is reason to suspect that you are +guilty of this murder, and therefore I have orders to search +you.'' He had, he admitted, no such orders. He felt under her +arms; whereupon she started and threw back her head. Johnson +clapped his hand on her head and felt something hard. He pulled +off her cap, and found a bag of money in her hair. + +``I asked her,'' Johnson said in the witness-box, ``how she came +by it, and she said it was some of Mrs Duncomb's money. `But, Mr +Johnson,' says she, `I'll make you a present of it if you will +keep it to yourself, and let nobody know anything of the matter. +The other things against me are nothing but circumstances, and I +shall come well enough off. And therefore I only desire you to +let me have threepence or sixpence a day till the sessions be +over; then I shall be at liberty to shift for myself.' '' + +To the best of his knowledge, said this turnkey, having told the +money over, there were twenty moidores, eighteen guineas, five +broad pieces, a half-broad piece, five crowns, and two or three +shillings. He thought there was also a twenty-five-shilling +piece and some others, twenty-three-shilling pieces. He had +sealed them up in the bag, and there they were (producing the bag +in court). + +The court asked how she said she had come by the money. + +Johnson's answer was that she had said she took the money and the +bag from Mrs Duncomb, and that she had begged him to keep it +secret. ``My dear,'' said this virtuous gaoler, ``I would not +secrete the money for the world. + +``She told me, too,'' runs Johnson's recorded testimony, ``that +she had hired three men to swear the tankard was her +grandmother's, but could not depend on them: that the name of one +was William Denny, another was Smith, and I have forgot the +third. After I had taken the money away she put a piece of +mattress in her hair, that it might appear of the same bulk as +before. Then I locked her up and sent to Mr Alstone, and told +him the story. `And,' says I, `do you stand in a dark place to +be witness of what she says, and I'll go and examine her +again.''' + +Sarah interrupted: ``I tied my handkerchief over my hair to hide +the money, but Buck,[19] happening to see my hair fall down, he +told Johnson; upon which Johnson came to see me and said, `I find +the cole's planted in your hair. Let me keep it for you and let +Buck know nothing about it.' So I gave Johnson five broad pieces +and twenty-two guineas, not gratis, but only to keep for me, for +I expected it to be returned when sessions was over. As to the +money, I never said I took it from Mrs Duncomb; but he asked me +what they had to rap against me. I told him only a tankard. He +asked me if it was Mrs Duncomb's, and I said yes.'' + + +[19] Peter Buck, a prisoner. + + + +The Court: ``Johnson, were those her words: `This is the money +and bag that I took'?'' + +Johnson: ``Yes, and she desired me to make away with the bag.'' + +Johnson's evidence was confirmed in part by Alstone, another +officer of the prison. He said he told Johnson to get the bag +from the prisoner, as it might have something about it whereby it +could be identified. Johnson called the girl, while Alstone +watched from a dark corner. He saw Sarah give Johnson the bag, +and heard her ask him to burn it. Alstone also deposed that +Sarah told him (Alstone) part of the money found on her was Mrs +Duncomb's. + +There is no need here to enlarge upon the oddly slack and casual +conditions of the prison life of the time as revealed in this +evidence. It will be no news to anyone who has studied +contemporary criminal history. There is a point, however, that +may be considered here, and that is the familiarity it suggests +on the part of Sarah with prison conditions and with the cant +terms employed by criminals and the people handling them. + +Sarah, though still in her earliest twenties,[20] was known +already--if not in the Temple--to have a bad reputation. It is +said that her closest friends were thieves of the worst sort. +She was the daughter of an Englishman, at one time a public +official in a small way in Dublin. Her father had come to London +with his wife and daughter, but on the death of the mother had +gone back to Ireland. He had left his daughter behind him, +servant in an ale-house called the Black Horse. + + +[20] Born 1711, Durham, according to The Newgate Calendar. + + + +Sarah was a fairly well-educated girl. At the ale-house, +however, she formed an acquaintance with a woman named Mary +Tracey, a dissolute character, and with two thieves called +Alexander. Of these three disreputable people we shall be +hearing presently, for Sarah tried to implicate them in this +crime which she certainly committed alone. It is said that the +Newgate officers recognized Sarah on her arrival. She had often +been to the prison to visit an Irish thief, convicted for +stealing the pack of a Scots pedlar. + +It will be seen from Sarah's own defence how she tried to +implicate Tracey and the two Alexanders: + +``I freely own that my crimes deserve death; I own that I was +accessory to the robbery, but I was innocent of the murder, and +will give an account of the whole affair. + +``I lived with Mrs Lydia Duncomb about three months before she +was murdered. The robbery was contrived by Mary Tracey, who is +now in confinement, and myself, my own vicious inclinations +agreeing with hers. We likewise proposed to rob Mr Oakes in +Thames Street. She came to me at my master's, Mr Kerrel's +chambers, on the Sunday before the murder was committed; he not +being then at home, we talked about robbing Mrs Duncomb. I told +her I could not pretend to do it by myself, for I should be found +out. `No,' says she, `there are the two Alexanders will help +us.' Next day I had seventeen pounds sent me out of the country, +which I left in Mr Kerrel's drawers. I met them all in Cheapside +the following Friday, and we agreed on the next night, and so +parted. + +``Next day, being Saturday, I went between seven and eight in the +evening to see Mrs Duncomb's maid, Elizabeth Harrison, who was +very bad. I stayed a little while with her, and went down, and +Mary Tracey and the two Alexanders came to me about ten o'clock, +according to appointment.'' + +On this statement the whole implication of Tracey and the +Alexanders by Sarah stands or falls. It falls for the reason +that the Temple porter had seen no stranger pass the gate that +night, nobody but Templars going to their chambers. The one fact +riddles the rest of Sarah's statement in defence, but, as it is +somewhat of a masterpiece in lying invention, I shall continue to +quote it. ``Mary Tracey would have gone about the robbery just +then, but I said it was too soon. Between ten and eleven she +said, `We can do it now.' I told her I would go and see, and so +went upstairs, and they followed me. I met the young maid on the +stairs with a blue mug; she was going for some milk to make a +sack posset. She asked me who were those that came after me. I +told her they were people going to Mr Knight's below. As soon as +she was gone I said to Mary Tracey, `Now do you and Tom Alexander +go down. I know the door is ajar, because the old maid is ill, +and can't get up to let the young maid in when she comes back.' +Upon that, James Alexander, by my order, went in and hid himself +under the bed; and as I was going down myself I met the young +maid coming up again. She asked me if I spoke to Mrs Betty. I +told her no; though I should have told her otherwise, but only +that I was afraid she might say something to Mrs Betty about me, +and Mrs Betty might tell her I had not been there, and so they +might have a suspicion of me.'' + +There is a possibility that this part of her confession, the tale +of having met the young maid, Nanny, may be true.[21] And here +may the truth of the murder be hidden away. Very likely it is, +indeed, that Sarah encountered the girl going out with the blue +mug for milk to make a sack posset, and she may have slipped in +by the open door to hide under the bed until the moment was ripe +for her terrible intention. On the other hand, if there is truth +in the tale of her encountering the girl again as she returned +with the milk--and her cunning in answering ``no'' to the maid's +query if she had seen Mrs Betty has the real ring--other ways of +getting an entry were open to her. We know that the lock of the +vacant chambers opposite Mrs Duncomb's would have yielded to +small manipulation. It is not at all unlikely that Sarah, having +been charwoman to the old lady, and with the propensities picked +up from her Shoreditch acquaintances, had made herself familiar +with the locks on the landing. So that she may have waited her +hour in the empty rooms, and have got into Mrs Duncomb's by the +same method used by Mrs Oliphant after the murder. She may even +have slipped back the spring-catch of the outer door. One +account of the murder suggests that she may have asked Ann Price, +on one pretext or other, to let her share her bed. It certainly +was not beyond the callousness of Sarah Malcolm to have chosen +this method, murdering the girl in her sleep, and then going on +to finish off the two helpless old women. + + +[21] This confession, however, varies in several particulars with +that contained in A Paper delivered by Sarah Malcolm on the Night +before her Execution to the Rev. Mr Piddington, and published by +Him (London, 1733). + + + +The truth, as I have said, lies hidden in this extraordinarily +mendacious confection. Liars of Sarah's quality are apt to base +their fabrications on a structure, however slight, of truth. I +continue with the confession, then, for what the reader may get +out of it. + +``I passed her [Nanny Price] and went down, and spoke with Tracey +and Alexander, and then went to my master's chambers, and stirred +up the fire. I stayed about a quarter of an hour, and when I +came back I saw Tracey and Tom Alexander sitting on Mrs Duncomb's +stairs, and I sat down with them. At twelve o'clock we heard +some people walking, and by and by Mr Knight came home, went to +his room, and shut the door. It was a very stormy night; there +was hardly anybody stirring abroad, and the watchmen kept up +close, except just when they cried the hour. At two o'clock +another gentleman came, and called the watch to light his candle, +upon which I went farther upstairs, and soon after this I heard +Mrs Duncomb's door open; James Alexander came out, and said, `Now +is the time.' Then Mary Tracey and Thomas Alexander went in, but +I stayed upon the stair to watch. I had told them where Mrs +Duncomb's box stood. They came out between four and five, and +one of them called to me softly, and said, `Hip! How shall I +shut the door?' Says I, ` 'Tis a spring-lock; pull it to, and it +will be fast.' And so one of them did. They would have shared +the money and goods upon the stairs, but I told them we had +better go down; so we went under the arch by Fig-tree Court, +where there was a lamp. I asked them how much they had got. +They said they had found fifty guineas and some silver in the +maid's purse, about one hundred pounds in the chest of drawers, +besides the silver tankard and the money in the box and several +other things; so that in all they had got to the value of about +three hundred pounds in money and goods. They told me that they +had been forced to gag the people. They gave me the tankard with +what was in it and some linen for my share, and they had a silver +spoon and a ring and the rest of the money among themselves. +They advised me to be cunning and plant the money and goods +underground, and not to be seen to be flush. Then we appointed +to meet at Greenwich, but we did not go.[22] + + +[22] In Mr Piddington's paper the supposed appointment is for ``3 +or 4 o'clock at the Pewter Platter, Holbourn Bridge.'' + + + +``I was taken in the manner the witnesses have sworn, and carried +to the watch-house, from whence I was sent to the Compter, and so +to Newgate. I own that I said the tankard was mine, and that it +was left me by my mother: several witnesses have swore what +account I gave of the tankard being bloody; I had hurt my finger, +and that was the occasion of it. I am sure of death, and +therefore have no occasion to speak anything but the truth. When +I was in the Compter I happened to see a young man[23] whom I +knew, with a fetter on. I told him I was sorry to see him there, +and I gave him a shilling, and called for half a quartern of rum +to make him drink. I afterwards went into my room, and heard a +voice call me, and perceived something poking behind the curtain. +I was a little surprised, and looking to see what it was, I found +a hole in the wall, through which the young man I had given the +shilling to spoke to me, and asked me if I had sent for my +friends. I told him no. He said he would do what he could for +me, and so went away; and some time after he called to me again, +and said, `Here is a friend.' + + +[23] One Bridgewater. + + + +``I looked through, and saw Will Gibbs come in. Says he, `Who is +there to swear against you?' I told him my two masters would be +the chief witnesses. `And what can they charge you with?' says +he. I told him the tankard was the only thing, for there was +nothing else that I thought could hurt me. `Never fear, then,' +says he; `we'll do well enough. We will get them that will rap +the tankard was your grandmother's, and that you was in +Shoreditch the night the act was committed; and we'll have two +men that shall shoot your masters. But,' said he, `one of the +witnesses is a woman, and she won't swear under four guineas; but +the men will swear for two guineas apiece,' and he brought a +woman and three men. I gave them ten guineas, and they promised +to wait for me at the Bull Head in Broad Street. But when I +called for them, when I was going before Sir Richard Brocas, they +were not there. Then I found I should be sent to Newgate, and I +was full of anxious thoughts; but a young man told me I had +better go to the Whit than to the Compter. + +``When I came to Newgate I had but eighteenpence in silver, +besides the money in my hair, and I gave eighteenpence for my +garnish. I was ordered to a high place in the gaol. Buck, as I +said before, having seen my hair loose, told Johnson of it, and +Johnson asked me if I had got any cole planted there. He +searched and found the bag, and there was in it thirty-six +moidores, eighteen guineas, five crown pieces, two half-crowns, +two broad pieces of twenty-five shillings, four of twenty-three +shillings, and one half-broad piece. He told me I must be +cunning, and not to be seen to be flush of money. Says I, `What +would you advise me to do with it?' `Why,' says he, `you might +have thrown it down the sink, or have burnt it, but give it to +me, and I'll take care of it.' And so I gave it to him. Mr +Alstone then brought me to the condemned hold and examined me. I +denied all till I found he had heard of the money, and then I +knew my life was gone. And therefore I confessed all that I +knew. I gave him the same account of the robbers as I have given +you. I told him I heard my masters were to be shot, and I +desired him to send them word. I described Tracey and the two +Alexanders, and when they were first taken they denied that they +knew Mr Oakes, whom they and I had agreed to rob. + +``All that I have now declared is fact, and I have no occasion to +murder three persons on a false accusation; for I know I am a +condemned woman. I know I must suffer an ignominious death which +my crimes deserve, and I shall suffer willingly. I thank God He +has given me time to repent, when I might have been snatched off +in the midst of my crimes, and without having an opportunity of +preparing myself for another world.'' There is a glibness and +an occasional turn of phrase in this confession which suggests +some touching up from the pen of a pamphleteer, but one may take +it that it is, in substance, a fairly accurate report. In spite +of the pleading which threads it that she should be regarded as +accessory only in the robbery, the jury took something less than +a quarter of an hour to come back with their verdict of ``Guilty +of murder.'' Sarah Malcolm was sentenced to death in due form. + + + +% V + +Having regard to the period in which this confession was made, +and considering the not too savoury reputations of Mary Tracey +and the brothers Alexander, we can believe that those three may +well have thought themselves lucky to escape from the mesh of +lies Sarah tried to weave about them.[24] It was not to be +doubted on all the evidence that she alone committed that cruel +triple murder, and that she alone stole the money which was found +hidden in her hair. The bulk of the stolen clothing was found in +her possession, bloodstained. A white-handled case-knife, +presumably that used to cut Nanny Price's throat, was seen on a +table by the three women who, with Sarah herself, were first on +the scene of the murder. It disappeared later, and it is to be +surmised that Sarah Malcolm managed to get it out of the room +unseen. But to the last moment possible Sarah tried to get her +three friends involved with her. Say, which is not at all +unlikely, that Tracey and the Alexanders may have first suggested +the robbery to her, and her vindictive maneouvring may be +understood. + + +[24] On more than one hand the crime is ascribed to Sarah's +desire to secure one of the Alexanders in marriage. + + + +It is said that when she heard that Tracey and the Alexanders had +been taken she was highly pleased. She smiled, and said that she +could now die happy, since the real murderers had been seized. +Even when the three were brought face to face with her for +identification she did not lack brazenness. ``Ay,'' she said, +``these are the persons who committed the murder.'' ``You know +this to be true,'' she said to Tracey. ``See, Mary, what you +have brought me to. It is through you and the two Alexanders +that I am brought to this shame, and must die for it. You all +promised me you would do no murder, but, to my great surprise, I +found the contrary.'' + +She was, you will perceive, a determined liar. Condemned, she +behaved with no fortitude. ``I am a dead woman!'' she cried, +when brought back to Newgate. She wept and prayed, lied still +more, pretended illness, and had fits of hysteria. They put her +in the old condemned hold with a constant guard over her, for +fear that she would attempt suicide + +The idlers of the town crowded to the prison to see her, for in +the time of his Blessed Majesty King George II Newgate, with the +condemned hold and its content, composed one of the fashionable +spectacles. Young Mr Hogarth, the painter, was one of those who +found occasion to visit Newgate to view the notorious murderess. +He even painted her portrait. It is said that Sarah dressed +specially for him in a red dress, but that copy--one which +belonged to Horace Walpole--which is now in the National Gallery +of Scotland, Edinburgh, shows her in a grey gown, with a white +cap and apron. Seated to the left, she leans her folded hands on +a table on which a rosary and a crucifix lie. Behind her is a +dark grey wall, with a heavy grating over a dark door to the +right. There are varied mezzotints of this picture by Hogarth +himself still extant, and there is a pen-and-wash drawing of +Sarah by Samuel Wale in the British Museum. + +The stories regarding the last days in life of Sarah Malcolm +would occupy more pages than this book can afford to spend on +them. To the last she hoped for a reprieve. After the ``dead +warrant'' had arrived, to account for a paroxysm of terror that +seized her, she said that it was from shame at the idea that, +instead of going to Tyburn, she was to be hanged in Fleet Street +among all the people that knew her, she having just heard the +news in chapel. This too was one of her lies. She had heard the +news hours before. A turnkey, pointing out the lie to her, urged +her to confess for the easing of her mind. + +One account I have of the Tanfield Court murders speaks of the +custom there was at this time of the bellman of St Sepulchre's +appearing outside the gratings of the condemned hold just after +midnight on the morning of executions.[25] This performance was +provided for by bequest from one Robert Dove, or Dow, a merchant- +tailor. Having rung his bell to draw the attention of the +condemned (who, it may be gathered, were not supposed to be at +all in want of sleep), the bellman recited these verses: + + All you that in the condemned hold do lie, + Prepare you, for to-morrow you shall die. + Watch all and pray; the hour is drawing near + That you before th' Almighty must appear. + + Examine well yourselves, in time repent, + That you may not t'eternal flames be sent: + And when St 'Pulchre's bell to-morrow tolls, + The Lord above have mercy on your souls! + Past twelve o'clock![26] + + +[25] It was once done by the parish priest. (Stowe's Survey of +London, p. 195, fourth edition, 1618.) + +[26] The bequest of Dove appears to have provided for a further +pious admonition to the condemned while on the way to execution. +It was delivered by the sexton of St Sepulchre's from the steps +of that church, a halt being made by the procession for the +purpose. This admonition, however, was in fair prose. + + + +A fellow-prisoner or a keeper bade Sarah Malcolm heed what the +bellman said, urging her to take it to heart. Sarah said she +did, and threw the bellman down a shilling with which to buy +himself a pint of wine. + +Sarah, as we have seen, was denied the honour of procession to +Tyburn. Her sentence was that she was to be hanged in Fleet +Street, opposite the Mitre Court, on the 7th of March, 1733. And +hanged she was accordingly. She fainted in the tumbril, and took +some time to recover. Her last words were exemplary in their +piety, but in the face of her vindictive lying, unretracted to +the last, it were hardly exemplary to repeat them. + +She was buried in the churchyard of St Sepulchre's. + + + + +V: ALMOST A LADY[27] + +[27] Thanks to my friend Billy Bennett, of music-hall fame, for +his hint for the chapter title. + + +Born (probably illegitimately) in a fisherman's cottage, reared +in a workhouse, employed in a brothel, won at cards by a royal +duke, mistress of that duke, married to a baron, received at +Court by three kings (though not much in the way of kings), +accused of cozenage and tacitly of murder, died full of piety, +`cutting up' for close on L150,000--there, as it were in a +nutshell, you have the life of Sophie Dawes, Baronne de +Feucheres. + +In the introduction to her exhaustive and accomplished biography +of Sophie Dawes,[28] from which a part of the matter for this +resume is drawn, Mme Violette Montagu, speaking of the period in +which Sophie lived, says that ``Paris, with its fabulous wealth +and luxury, seems to have been looked upon as a sort of Mecca by +handsome Englishwomen with ambition and, what is absolutely +necessary if they wish to be really successful, plenty of +brains.'' + + +[28] Sophie Dawes, Queen of Chantilly (John Lane, 1912). + + + +It is because Sophie had plenty of brains of a sort, besides the +attributes of good looks, health, and by much a disproportionate +share of determination, and because, with all that she attained +to, she died quite ostracized by the people with whom it had been +her life's ambition to mix, and was thus in a sense a failure--it +is because of these things that it is worth while going into +details of her career, expanding the precis with which this +chapter begins. + +Among the women selected as subjects for this book Sophie Dawes +as a personality wins `hands down.' Whether she was a criminal +or not is a question even now in dispute. Unscrupulous she +certainly was, and a good deal of a rogue. That modern American +product the `gold-digger' is what she herself would call a +`piker' compared with the subject of this chapter. The blonde +bombshell, with her `sugar daddy,' her alimony `racket,' and the +hundred hard-boiled dodges wherewith she chisels money and goods +from her prey, is, again in her own crude phraseology, `knocked +for a row of ash-cans' by Sophie Dawes. As, I think, you will +presently see. + +Sophie was born at St Helens, Isle of Wight--according to herself +in 1792. There is controversy on the matter. Mme Montagu in her +book says that some of Sophie's biographers put the date at 1790, +or even 1785. But Mme Montagu herself reproduces the list of +wearing apparel with which Sophie was furnished when she left the +`house of industry' (the workhouse). It is dated 1805. In those +days children were not maintained in poor institutions to the +mature ages of fifteen or twenty. They were supposed to be armed +against life's troubles at twelve or even younger. Sophie, then, +could hardly have been born before 1792, but is quite likely to +have been born later. + +The name of Sophie's father is given as ``Daw.'' Like many +another celebrity, as, for example, Walter Raleigh and +Shakespeare, Sophie spelled her name variously, though ultimately +she fixed on ``Dawes.'' Richard, or Dickey, Daw was a fisherman +for appearance sake and a smuggler for preference. The question +of Sophie's legitimacy anses from the fact that her mother, Jane +Callaway, was registered at death as ``a spinster.'' Sophie was +one of ten children. Dickey Daw drank his family into the +poorhouse, an institution which sent Sophie to fend for herself +in 1805, procuring her a place as servant at a farm on the +island. + +Service on a farm does not appear to have appealed to Sophie. +She escaped to Portsmouth, where she found a job as hotel +chambermaid. Tiring of that, she went to London and became a +milliner's assistant. A little affair we hear, in which a mere +water-carrier was an equal participant, lost Sophie her place. +We next have word of her imitating Nell Gwynn, both in selling +oranges to playgoers and in becoming an actress--not, however, at +Old Drury, but at the other patent theatre, Covent Garden. Save +that as a comedian she never took London by storm, and that she +lacked Nell's unfailing good humour, Sophie in her career matches +Nell in more than superficial particulars. Between selling +oranges and appearing on the stage Sophie seems to have touched +bottom for a time in poverty. But her charms as an actress +captivated an officer by and by, and she was established as his +mistress in a house at Turnham Green. Tiring of her after a +time--Sophie, it is probable, became exigeant with increased +comfort--her protector left her with an annuity of L50. + +The annuity does not appear to have done Sophie much good. We +next hear of her as servant-maid in a Piccadilly brothel, a +lupanar much patronized by wealthy emigres from France, among +whom was Louis-Henri-Joseph, Duc de Bourbon and later Prince de +Conde, a man at that time of about fifty-four. + +The Duc's attention was directed to the good looks of Sophie by a +manservant of his. Mme Montagu says of Sophie at this time that +``her face had already lost the first bloom of youth and +innocence.'' Now, one wonders if that really was so, or if Mme +Montagu is making a shot at a hazard. She describes Sophie a +little earlier than this as having + +developed into a fine young woman, not exactly pretty or +handsome, but she held her head gracefully, and her regular +features were illumined by a pair of remarkably bright and +intelligent eyes. She was tall and squarely built, with legs and +arms which might have served as models for a statue of Hercules. +Her muscular force was extraordinary. Her lips were rather thin, +and she had an ugly habit of contracting them when she was angry. +Her intelligence was above the average, and she had a good share +of wit. + + +At the time when the Duc de Bourbon came upon her in the +Piccadilly stew the girl was probably no more than eighteen. If +one may judge her character from the events of her subsequent +career there was an outstanding resiliency and a resoluteness as +main ingredients of her make-up, qualities which would go a long +way to obviating any marks that might otherwise have been left on +her by the ups and downs of a mere five years in the world. If, +moreover, Mme Montagu's description of her is a true one it is +clear that Sophie's good looks were not of the sort to make an +all-round appeal. The ways in which attractiveness goes, both in +men and in women, are infinite in their variety. The reader may +recall, in this respect, what was said in the introductory +chapter about Kate Webster and the instance of the bewhiskered +'Fina of the Spanish tavern. And since a look of innocence and +the bloom of youth may, and very often do, appear on the faces of +individuals who are far from being innocent or even young, it may +well be that Sophie in 1810, servant-maid in a brothel though she +was, still kept a look of country freshness and health, unjaded +enough to whet the dulled appetence of a bagnio-haunting old rip. +The odds are, at all events, that Sophie was much less artificial +in her charms than the practised ladies of complacency upon whom +she attended. With her odd good looks she very likely had just +that subacid leaven for which, in the alchemy of attraction, the +Duc was in search. + +The Duc, however, was not the only one to whom Sophie looked +desirable. Two English peers had an eye on her--the Earl of +Winchilsea and the Duke of Kent. This is where the card affair +comes in. The Duc either played whist with the two noblemen for +sole rights in Sophie or, what is more likely, cut cards with +them during a game. The Duc won. Whether his win may be +regarded as lucky or not can be reckoned, according to the taste +and fancy of the reader, from the sequelae of some twenty years. + + + +% II + +With the placing of Sophie dans ses meubles by the Duc de Bourbon +there began one of the most remarkable turns in her career. In +1811 he took a house for her in Gloucester Street, Queen's +Square, with her mother as duenna, and arranged for the +completion of her education. + +As a light on her character hardly too much can be made of this +stage in her development. It is more than likely that the +teaching was begun at Sophie's own demand, and by the use she +made of the opportunities given her you may measure the strength +of her ambition. Here was no rich man's doxy lazily seeking a +veneer of culture, enough to gloss the rough patches of speech +and idea betraying humble origin. This fisherman's child, +workhouse girl, ancilla of the bordels, with the thin smattering +of the three R's she had acquired in the poor institution, set +herself, with a wholehearted concentration which a Newnham `swot' +might envy, to master modern languages, with Greek, Latin, and +music. At the end of three years she was a good linguist, could +play and sing well enough to entertain and not bore the most +intelligent in the company the Duc kept, and to pass in that +company --the French emigre set in London--as a person of equal +education. If, as it is said, Sophie, while she could read and +write French faultlessly, never could speak it without an English +accent, it is to be remembered that the flexibility of tongue and +mind needed for native-sounding speech in French (or any other +language) is so exceptional as to be practically non-existent +among her compatriots to this day. The fault scarcely belittles +her achievement. As well blame a one-legged man for hopping when +trying to run. Consider the life Sophie had led, the sort of +people with whom she had associated, and that temptation towards +laissez-faire which conquers all but the rarest woman in the mode +of life in which she was existing, and judge of the constancy of +purpose that kept that little nose so steadfastly in Plutarch and +Xenophon. + +If in the year 1812 the Duc began to allow his little Sophie +about L800 a year in francs as pin-money he was no more generous +than Sophie deserved. The Duc was very rich, despite the fact +that his father, the old Prince de Conde, was still alive, and +so, of course, was enjoying the income from the family estates. + +There is no room here to follow more than the barest outline of +the Duc de Bourbon's history. Fully stated, it would be the +history of France. He was a son of the Prince de Conde who +collected that futile army beyond the borders of France in the +royalist cause in the Revolution. Louis-Henri was wounded in the +left arm while serving there, so badly wounded that the hand was +practically useless. He came to England, where he lived until +1814, when he went back to France to make his unsuccessful +attempt to raise the Vendee. Then he went to Spain. + +At this time he intended breaking with Sophie, but when he got +back to Paris in 1815 he found the lady waiting for him. It took +Sophie some eighteen months to bring his Highness up to scratch +again. During this time the Duc had another English fancy, a +Miss Harris, whose reign in favour, however, did not withstand +the manoeuvring of Sophie. + +Sophie as a mistress in England was one thing, but Sophie +unattached as a mistress in France was another. One wonders why +the Duc should have been squeamish on this point. Perhaps it was +that he thought it would look vulgar to take up a former mistress +after so long. At all events, he was ready enough to resume the +old relationship with Sophie, provided she could change her name +by marriage. Sophie was nothing loth. The idea fell in with her +plans. She let it get about that she was the natural daughter of +the Duc, and soon had in tow one Adrien-Victor de Feucheres. He +was an officer of the Royal Guard. Without enlarging on the +all-round tawdriness of this contract it will suffice here to say +that Sophie and Adrien were married in London in August of 1818, +the Duc presenting the bride with a dowry of about L5600 in +francs. Next year de Feucheres became a baron, and was made +aide-de-camp to the Duc. + +Incredible as it may seem, de Feucheres took four years to +realize what was the real relationship between his wife and the +Prince de Conde. The aide-de-camp and his wife had a suite of +rooms in the Prince's favourite chateau at Chantilly, and the +ambition which Sophie had foreseen would be furthered by the +marriage was realized. She was received as La Baronne de +Feucheres at the Court of Louis XVIII. She was happy--up to a +point. Some unpretty traits in her character began to develop: a +violent temper, a tendency to hysterics if crossed, and, it is +said, a leaning towards avaricious ways. At the end of four +years the Baron de Feucheres woke up to the fact that Sophie was +deceiving him. It does not appear, however, that he had seen +through her main deception, because it was Sophie herself, we are +told, who informed him he was a fool--that she was not the +Prince's daughter, but his mistress. + +Having waked up thus belatedly, or having been woken up by Sophie +in her ungoverned ill-temper, de Feucheres acted with +considerable dignity. He begged to resign his position as aide +to the Prince, and returned his wife's dowry. The departure of +Sophie's hitherto complacent husband rather embarrassed the +Prince. He needed Sophie but felt he could not keep her +unattached under his roof and he sent her away--but only for a +few days. Sophie soon was back again in Chantilly. + +The Prince made some attempt to get de Feucheres to return, but +without success. De Feucheres applied for a post in the Army of +Spain, an application which was granted at once. It took the +poor man seven years to secure a judicial separation from his +wife. + +The scandal of this change in the menage of Chantilly --it +happened in 1822--reached the ears of the King, and the Baronne +de Feucheres was forbidden to appear at Court. All Sophie's +energies from then on were concentrated on getting the ban +removed. She explored all possible avenues of influence to this +end, and, incidentally drove her old lover nearly frantic with +her complaints giving him no peace. Even a rebuff from the +Duchesse de Berry, widow of the son of that prince who was +afterwards Charles X, did not put her off. She turned up one day +at the Tuileries, to be informed by an usher that she could not +be admitted. + +This desire to be reinstated in royal favour is at the back of +all Sophie's subsequent actions--this and her intention of +feathering her own nest out of the estate of her protector. It +explains why she worked so hard to have the Prince de Conde +assume friendly relations with a family whose very name he hated: +that of the Duc d'Orleans. It is a clue to the mysterious death, +eight years later, of the Prince de Conde, last of the Condes, in +circumstances which were made to pass as suicide, but which in +unhampered inquiry would almost certainly have been found to +indicate murder. + + + +% III + +Louis-Henri-Joseph, Duc de Bourbon and Prince de Conde, seems to +have been rather a simple old man: a useless old sinner, true +enough, but relatively harmless in his sinning, relatively venial +in his uselessness. It were futile to seek for the morality of a +later age in a man of his day and rank and country, just as it +were obtuse to look for greatness in one so much at the mercy of +circumstance. As far as bravery went he had shown himself a +worthy descendant of ``the Great Conde.'' But, surrounded by the +vapid jealousies of the most useless people who had ever tried to +rule a country, he, no more than his father, had the faintest +chance to show the Conde quality in war. Adrift as a +comparatively young man, his world about his ears, with no +occupation, small wonder that in idleness he fell into the +pursuit of satisfactions for his baser appetites. He would have +been, there is good reason to believe, a happy man and a busy one +in a camp. There is this to be said for him: that alone among +the spineless crowd of royalists feebly waiting for the miracle +which would restore their privilege he attempted a blow for the +lost cause. But where in all that bed of disintegrating chalk +was the flint from which he might have evoked a spark? + +The great grief of the Prince's life was the loss of his son, the +young Duc d'Enghien, shamefully destroyed by Bonaparte. It is +possible that much of the Prince's inertia was due to this blow. +He had married, at the early age of fourteen, +Louise-Marie-Therese-Mathilde d'Orleans, daughter of +Louis-Philippe, Duc d'Orleans and the Duchesse de Chartres, the +bride being six years older than her husband. Such a marriage +could not last. It merely sustained the honeymoon and the birth +of that only son. The couple were apart in eighteen months, and +after ten years they never even saw each other again. About the +time when Sophie's husband found her out and departed the +Princesse died. The Prince was advised to marry again, on the +chance that an heir might be born to the large fortune he +possessed. But Sophie by then had become a habit with the +Prince--a bad one--and the old man was content to be left to his +continual hunting, and not to bother over the fact that he was +the last of his ancient line. + +It may be easily believed that the Prince's disinclination to +marry again contented Sophie very well. And the fact that he had +no direct heir was one in which she saw possibilities +advantageous to herself. + +The Prince was then sixty-six years old. In the course of nature +he was almost bound to predecease her. His wealth was enormous, +and out of it Sophie wanted as much by bequest as she could get. +She was much too shrewd, however, to imagine that, even if she +did contrive to be made his sole heir, the influential families +who had an eye upon the great possessions of the Prince, and who +through relationship had some right to expect inheritance, would +allow such a will to go uncontested. She therefore looked about +among the Prince's connexions for some one who would accept +coheirship with herself, and whose family would be strong enough +in position to carry through probate on such terms, but at the +same time would be grateful enough to her and venal enough to +further her aim of being reinstated at Court. Her choice in this +matter shows at once her political cunning, which would include +knowledge of affairs, and her ability as a judge of character. + +It should be remembered that, in spite of his title of Duc de +Bourbon, Sophie's elderly protector was only distantly of that +family. He was descended in direct line from the Princes de +Conde, whose connexion with the royal house of France dated back +to the sixteenth century. The other line of `royal' ducs in the +country was that of Orleans, offshoot of the royal house through +Philippe, son of Louis XIII, and born in 1640. Sophie's +protector, Louis-Henri-Joseph, Prince de Conde, having married +Louise-Marie, daughter of the great-grandson of this Philippe, +was thus the brother-in-law of that Louis-Philippe, Duc +d'Orleans, who in the Revolution was known as ``Egalite.'' This +was a man whom, for his political opinion and for his failure to +stand by the King, Louis XVI, the Prince de Conde utterly +detested in memory. As much, moreover, as he had hated the +father did the Prince de Conde detest Egalite's son. But it was +out of this man's family that Sophie selected, though ultimately, +her coheir. + +Before she arrived at this point, however, Sophie had been at +pains to do some not very savoury manoeuvring. + +By a dancer at the Opera, called Mimi, the Prince de Conde had an +illegitimate daughter, whom he had caused to be educated and whom +he had married to the Comte de Rully. The Comtesse de Rully and +her husband had a suite at Chantilly. This was an arrangement +which Sophie, as reigning Queen of Chantilly, did not like at +all. While the Rully woman remained at Chantilly Sophie could +not think that her sway over the Prince was quite as absolute as +she wished. It took her six years of badgering her protector, +from 1819 to 1825, to bring about the eviction. + +But meantime (for Sophie's machinations must be taken as +concurrent with events as they transpire) the Baronne de +Feucheres had approached the son of Philippe-Egalite, suggesting +that the last-born of his six children, the Duc d'Aumale, should +have the Prince de Conde for godfather. If she could persuade +her protector to this the Duc d'Orleans, in return, was to use +his influence for her reinstatement at Court. And persuade the +old man to this Sophie did, albeit after a great deal of +badgering on her part and a great deal of grumbling on the part +of the Prince. + +The influence exerted at Court by the Duc d'Orleans does not seem +to have been very effective. The King who had dismissed her the +Court, Louis XVIII, died in 1824. His brother, the Comte +d'Artois, ascended the throne as Charles X, and continued by +politically foolish recourses, comparable in history to those of +the English Stuarts, to alienate the people by attempting to +regain that anachronistic absolute power which the Revolution had +destroyed. He lasted a mere six years as king. The revolution +of 1830 sent him into exile. But up to the last month or so of +those six years he steadfastly refused to have anything to do +with the Baronne de Feucheres--not that Sophie ever gave up +manoeuvring and wheedling for a return to Court favour. + +About 1826 Sophie had a secret proposition made to the King that +she should try to persuade the Prince de Conde to adopt as his +heir one of the brothers of the Duchesse de Berry, widow of the +King's second son--or would his Majesty mind if a son of the Duc +d'Orleans was adopted? The King did not care at all. + +After that Sophie pinned her faith in the power possessed by the +Duc d'Orleans. She was not ready to pursue the course whereby +her return to Court might have been secured--namely, to abandon +her equivocal position in the Prince de Conde's household, and +thus her power over the Prince. She wanted first to make sure of +her share of the fortune he would leave. She knew her power over +the old man. Already she had persuaded him to buy and make over +to her the estates of Saint-Leu and Boissy, as well as to make +her legacies to the amount of a million francs. Much as she +wanted to be received again at Court, she wanted more just as +much as she could grab from the Prince's estate. To make her +inheritance secure she needed the help of the Duc d'Orleans. + +The Duc d'Orleans was nothing loth. He had the mind of a French +bourgeois, and all the bourgeois itch for money. He knew that +the Prince de Conde hated him, hated his politics, hated his very +name. But during the seven years it took Sophie to bring the +Prince to the point of signing the will she had in mind the son +of Philippe-Egalite fawned like a huckster on his elderly and, in +more senses than one, distant relative. The scheme was to have +the Prince adopt the little Duc d'Aumale, already his godchild, +as his heir. + +The ways by which Sophie went about the job of persuading her old +lover do not read pleasantly. She was a termagant. The Prince +was stubborn. He hated the very idea of making a will--it made +him think of death. He was old, ill, friendless. Sophie made +his life a hell, but he had become dependent upon her. She +ill-used him, subjecting him to physical violence, but yet he was +afraid she might, as she often threatened, leave him. Her way of +persuading him reached the point, it is on record, of putting a +knife to his throat. Not once but several times his servants +found him scratched and bruised. But the old man could not +summon up the strength of mind to be quit of this succubine +virago. + +At last, on the 29th of August, 1829, Sophie's `persuasions' +succeeded. The Prince consented to sign the will, and did so the +following morning. In its terms the Duc d'Aumale became +residuary legatee, and 2,000,000 francs, free of death-duty, were +bequeathed to the Prince's ``faithful companion, Mme la baronne +de Feucheres,'' together with the chateaux and estates of +Saint-Leu-Taverny, Boissy, Enghien, Montmorency, and +Mortefontaine, and the pavilion in the Palais-Bourbon, besides +all the Prince's furniture, carriages, horses, and so on. +Moreover, the estate and chateau of Ecouen was also given her, on +condition that she allowed the latter to be used as an orphanage +for the descendants of soldiers who had served with the Armies of +Conde and La Vendee. The cost of running this establishment, +however, was to be borne by the Duc d'Aumale. + +It might be thought that Sophie, having got her way, would have +turned to kindness in her treatment of her old lover. But no. +All her mind was now concentrated on working, through the Duc +d'Orleans, for being received again at Court. She ultimately +succeeded in this. On the 7th of February, 1830, she appeared in +the presence of the King, the Dauphin and Dauphine. In the +business of preparing for this great day Chantilly and the Prince +de Conde were greatly neglected. The beggar on horseback had to +be about Paris. + +But events were shaping in France at that time which were to be +important to the royal family, to Sophie and her supporters of +the house of Orleans, and fatal in consequence to the old man at +Chantilly. + +On the 27th of July revolution broke out in France. Charles X +and his family had to seek shelter in England, and +Louis-Philippe, Duc d'Orleans, became--not King of France, but +``King of the French'' by election. This consummation had not +been achieved without intrigue on the part of Egalite's son. It +was not an achievement calculated to abate the Prince de Conde's +hatred for him. Rather did it inflame that hatred. In the +matter of the famous will, moreover, as the King's son the little +Duc d'Aumale would be now in no need of the provision made for +him by his unwilling godfather, while members of the exiled royal +family--notably the grandson of Charles, the Duc de Bordeaux, +certainly cut out of the Prince's will by the intrigues of Sophie +and family--were in want of assistance. This is a point to be +remembered in the light of subsequent events. + + + +% IV + +While she had been looking after herself Sophie Dawes had not +been unmindful ofthe advancement of hangers-on of her own family. +She had about her a nephew and a niece. The latter, supposed by +some to have a closer relationship to Sophie than that of mere +niece, she had contrived to marry off to a marquis. The Marquise +de Chabannes de la Palice need not here concern us further. But +notice must be taken of the nephew. A few million francs, +provided by the Prince de Conde, had secured for this James Dawes +the title of Baron de Flassans, from a domain also bestowed upon +him by Sophie's elderly lover. De Flassans, with some minor post +in the Prince's household, acted as his aunt's jackal. + +If Sophie, after the election to kingship of Louis-Philippe, +found it necessary to be in Paris a great deal to worship at the +throne her nephew kept her well informed about the Prince de +Conde's activities. The old man, it appeared, had suddenly +developed the habit of writing letters. The Prince, then at the +chateau of Saint-Leu expressed a desire to remove to Chantilly. +He was behaving very oddly all round, was glad to have Sophie out +of his sight, and seemed unwilling even to hear her name. The +projected move to Chantilly, as a fact, was merely a blind to +cover a flight out of Sophie's reach and influence. Rumour arose +about Saint-Leu and in Paris that the Prince had made another +will--one in which neither Sophie nor the Duc d'Aumale was +mentioned. This was a move of which Sophie had been afraid. She +saw to it that the Prince did not get away from Saint-Leu. +Rumour and the Prince's conduct made Sophie very anxious. She +tried to get him to make over to her in his lifetime those +properties which he had left to her in his will, and it is +probable enough that she would have forced this request but for +the fact that, to raise the legal costs, the property of +Saint-Leu would have had to be sold. + +This was the position of affairs about the middle of August 1830. +It was believed the Prince had already signed a will in favour of +the exiled little Duc de Bordeaux, but that he had kept the act +secret from his mistress. + +On the morning of the 11th of the month the Prince was met +outside his bedroom in his night attire. It was a young man +called Obry who thus met the Prince. He was the old man's +godchild. The old man's left eye was bleeding, and there was a +scratch on his cheek as if made by a fingernail. To Obry the +Prince attributed these wounds to the spite of the Baronne de +Feucheres. Half an hour later he told his valet he had hit his +head against a night-table. Later again in the day he gave +another version still: he had fallen against the door to a secret +staircase from his bedroom while letting the Baronne de Feucheres +out, the secret staircase being in communication with Sophie's +private apartments. + +For the next ten days or so the Prince was engaged in contriving +his flight from the gentle Sophie, a second plan which again was +spoiled by Sophie's spies. There was something of a fete at +Saint-Leu on the 26th, the Prince's saint's day. There was a +quarrel between Sophie and the Prince on the morning of the 26th +in the latter's bedroom. Sophie had then been back in Saint-Leu +for three days. At midnight on the 26th the old man retired +after playing a game or two at whist. He was to go on the 30th +to Chantilly. He was accompanied to his bedroom by his surgeon +and a valet, one Lecomte, and expressed a desire to be called at +eight o'clock. Lecomte found a paper in the Prince's trousers +and gave it to the old man, who placed it on the mantelshelf. +Then the valet, as he said later, locked the door of the Prince's +dressing-room, thus --except for the entrance from the secret +staircase--locking the old man in his room. + +The Prince's apartments were on the first floor of the chateau. +His bedroom was approached through the dressing-room from the +main corridor. Beyond the dressing-room was a passage, turning +left from which was the bedroom, and to the right in which was an +entrance to an anteroom. Facing the dressing-room door in this +same passage was the entrance to the secret staircase already +mentioned. The staircase gave access to the Baronne de +Feucheres' apartments on the entrance floor. These, however, +were not immediately under the Prince's rooms. An entresol +intervened, and here the rooms were occupied by the Abbe Briant, +a creature of Sophie's and her secretary, the Widow Lachassine, +Sophie's lady's-maid, and a couple named Dupre. These last, also +spies of Sophie's, had their room direcdy below the Prince's +bedroom, and it is recorded that the floor was so thin that they +could hear not only the old man's every movement, but anything he +said. + +Adjacent to the Prince's room, and on the same floor, were the +rooms occupied by Lambot, the Prince's aide, and the valet +Lecomte. Lambot was a lover of Sophie's, and had been the great +go-between in her intrigues with the Orleans family over the +will. Lecomte was in Sophie's pay. Close to Sophie's apartments +on the entrance floor were the rooms occupied by her nephew and +his wife, the de Flassans. It will be seen, therefore, that the +wing containing the Prince's rooms was otherwise occupied almost +completely by Sophie's creatures. + +You have, then, the stage set for the tragedy which was about to +ensue: midnight; the last of the Condes peaceably in his bedroom +for the night, and locked in it (according to Lecomte). About +him, on all sides, are the creatures of his not too scrupulous +mistress. All these people, with the exception of the Baronne de +Flassans, who sat up writing letters until two, retire about the +same time. + +And at eight o'clock next morning, there being no answer to +Lecomte's knocking to arouse the Prince, the door is broken open +at the orders of the Baronne de Feucheres. The Prince is +discovered dead in his bedroom, suspended by the neck, by means +of two of his own handkerchiefs knotted together, from the +fastening of one of the French windows. + +The fastening was only about two and a half feet off the floor. +The handkerchief about the dead man's neck was loose enough to +have permitted insertion of all the fingers of a hand between it +and the neck. The second handkerchief was tied to the first, and +its other end was knotted to the window-fastening, and the dead +man's right cheek was pressed against the closed shutter. The +knees were bent a little, the feet were on the floor. None of +the usual indications of death by strangulation were present. +The eyes were half closed. The face was pale but not livid. The +mouth was almost closed. There was no protrusion of the tongue. + +On the arrival of the civil functionaries, the Mayor of Saint-Leu +and a Justice of the Peace from Enghien, the body was taken down +and put on the bed. It was then found that the dead man's ankles +were greatly bruised and his legs scratched. On the left side of +the throat, at a point too low for it to have been done by the +handkerchief, there was some stripping of the skin. A large red +bruise was found between the Prince's shoulders. + +The King, Louis-Philippe, heard about the death of the Prince de +Conde at half-past eleven that same day. He immediately sent his +High Chancellor, M. Pasquier, and his own aide-de-camp, M. de +Rumigny, to inquire into the matter. It is not stretching things +too far to say that the King's instructions to these gentlemen +are revealed in phrases occurring in the letters they sent his +Majesty that same evening. Both recommend that Drs Marc and +Marjolin should be sent to investigate the Prince's tragic death. +But M. Pasquier mentions that ``not a single document has been +found, so a search has already been made.'' And M. de Rumigny +thinks ``it is important that nobody should be accused who is +likely to benefit by the will.'' What document was expected to +be discovered in the search? Why, a second will that would +invalidate the first. Who was to benefit by the first will? +Why, the little Duc d'Aumale and Dame Sophie Dawes, Baronne de +Feucheres! + +The post-mortem examination was made by the King's own +physicians. During the examination the Prince's doctors, MM. +Dubois and Gendrin, his personal secretary, and the faithful one +among his body-servants, Manoury, were sent out of the room. The +verdict was suicide. The Prince's own doctors maintained that +suicide by the handkerchiefs from the window-fastening was +impossible. Dr Dubois wrote his idea of how the death had +occurred: + + +The Prince very likely was asleep in his bed. The murderers must +have been given entrance to his bedroom--I have no wish to ask +how or by whom. They then threw themselves on the Prince, +gripped him firmly, and could easily pin him down on his bed; +then the most desperate and dexterous of the murderers suffocated +him as he was thus held firmly down; finally, in order to make it +appear that he had committed suicide and to hinder any judicial +investigations which might have discovered the identity of the +assassins, they fastened a handkerchief about their victim's +neck, and hung him up by the espagnolette of the window. + + +And that, at all hazards, is about the truth of the death of the +Duc de Bourbon and Prince de Conde. There was some official +display of rigour in investigation by the Procureur; there was +much play with some mysterious papers found a good time after the +first discovery half-burned in the fireplace of the Prince's +bedroom; there was a lot put forward to support the idea of +suicide; but the blunt truth of the affair is that the Prince de +Conde was murdered, and that the murder was hushed up as much as +possible. Not, however, with complete success. There were few +in France who gave any countenance to the theory of suicide. + +The Prince, it will be remembered, had a practically disabled +left arm. It is said that he could not even remove his hat with +his left hand. The knots in the handkerchiefs used to tie him to +the espagnolette were both complicated and tightly made. +Impossible for a one-handed man. His bed, which at the time of +his retiring to it stood close to the alcove wall, was a good +foot and a half away from that wall in the morning. Impossible +feat also for this one-handed man. It was the Prince's habit to +lie so much to one side of the bed that his servants had to prop +the outside edge up with folded blankets. On the morning when +his death was discovered it was seen that the edges still were +high, while the centre was very much pressed down. There was, in +fact, a hollow in the bed's middle such as might have been made +by some one standing on it with shoes on. It is significant that +the bedclothes were neatly turned down. If the Prince had got up +on a sudden impulse to commit suicide he is hardly likely, being +a prince, to have attempted remaking his bed. He must, moreover, +since he could normally get from bed only by rolling on his side, +have pressed out that heightened edge. Manoury, the valet who +loved him, said that the bed in the morning looked more as if it +had been SMOOTHED OUT than remade. This would tend to support +the theory of Dr Dubois. The murderers, having suffocated the +Prince, would be likely to try effacing the effects of his +struggling by the former method rather than the latter. + +But the important point of the affair, as far as this chapter on +it is concerned, is the relation of Sophie Dawes with it on the +conclusion of murder. How deeply was she implicated? Let us see +how she acted on hearing that there was no reply to Lecomte's +knocking, and let us examine her conduct from that moment on. + +Note that the Baronne de Feucheres was the first person whom +Lecomte and the Prince's surgeon apprised of the Prince's +silence. She rushed out of her room and made for the Prince's, +not by the secret staircase, but by the main one. She knew, +however, that the door to the secret staircase from the Prince's +room was not bolted that night. This knowledge was admitted for +her later by the Prince's surgeon, M. Bonnie. She had gone up to +the Prince's room by the main staircase in order to hide the +fact, an action which gives a touch of theatricality to her +exhibited concern about the Prince's silence. + +The search for documents spoken of by M. Pasquier in his letter +to the King had been carried out by Sophie in person, with the +aid of her nephew de Flassans and the Abbe Briant. It was a +thorough search, and a piece of indecorousness which she excused +on the ground of being afraid the Prince's executors might find a +will which made her the sole heir, to the exclusion of the Duc +d'Aumale. + +Regarding the `accident' which had happened to the Prince on the +11th of August, she said it was explained by an earlier attempt +on his part to do away with himself. She tried to deny that she +had been at Saint-Leu at the time of the actual happening, when +the fact was that she only left for Paris some hours later. + +When, some time later, the Prince's faithful valet Manoury made +mention of the fact that the Prince had wanted to put the width +of the country between himself and his mistress, Sophie first +tried to put the fear of Louis-Philippe into the man, then, +finding he was not to be silenced that way, tried to buy him with +a promise of employment. + +It is beyond question that the Prince de Conde was murdered. He +was murdered in a wing of the chateau in which he was hemmed in +on all sides by Sophie's creatures. It is impossible that Sophie +was not privy, at the least, to the deed. It is not beyond the +bounds of probability that she was an actual participator in the +murder. + +She was a violent woman, as violent and passionate as she was +determined. Not once but many times is it on record that she +physically ill-used her elderly lover. There was one occasion, +it is said, when the Prince suddenly came upon her in a very +compromising position with a younger man in the park of one of +his chateaux. Sophie, before the Prince could utter a protest, +cut him across the face with her riding-whip, and finished up by +thrashing him with his own cane. + +Here you have the stuff, at any rate, of which your murderesses +of the violent type are made. It is the metal out of which your +Kate Websters, your Sarah Malcolms, your Meteyards and Brownriggs +fashion themselves. It takes more than three years of scholastic +self-discipline, such as Sophie Dawes in her ambition subjected +herself to, to eradicate the inborn harridan. The very +determination which was at the back of Sophie's efforts at +self-education, that will to have her own way, would serve to +heighten the sick rage with which she would discover that her +carefully wrought plans of seven years had come to pieces. What +was it that the Abbe Pelier de Lacroix had in ``proof of the +horrible assassination'' of the Prince de Conde, but that he was +prevented from placing before the lawyers in charge of the later +investigation, if not the fact that the Prince had made a later +will than the one by which Sophie inherited so greatly? The Abbe +was the Prince's chaplain. He published a pamphlet declaring +that the Prince had made a will leaving his entire fortune to the +little Duc de Bordeaux, but that Sophie had stolen this later +will. Who likelier to be a witness to such a will than the +Prince's chaplain? + +It needs no great feat of imagination to picture what the effect +of such a discovery would be on a woman of Sophie's violent +temper, or to conceive how little the matter of taking a life +especially the life of a feeble old man she was used to bullying +and mishandling--would be allowed to stand in the way of rescuing +her large gains. Murder of the Prince was her only chance. It +had taken her seven years to bring him to the point of signing +that first will. He was seventy-four years of age, enfeebled, +obstinate, and she knew of his plans to flee from her. Even +supposing that she could prevent his flight, could she begin all +over again to another seven years of bullying and +wheedling--always with the prospect of the old man dying before +she could get him to the point again of doing as she wished? The +very existence of the second will was a menace. It only needed +that the would-be heirs of the Prince should hear of it, and +there would be a swoop on their part to rescue the testator from +her clutches. In the balance against 2,000,000 francs and some +halfdozen castles with their estates the only wonder is that any +reasonable person, knowing the history of Sophie Dawes, should +hesitate about the value she was likely to place on the old man's +life. + +The inquiry begun in September of 1830 into the circumstances +surrounding the death of the Prince was cooked before it was +dressed. The honest man into whose hands it was placed at first, +a M. de la Hurpoie, proved himself too zealous. After a night +visit from the Procureur he was retired into private life. After +that the investigators were hand-picked. They concluded the +investigation the following June, with the declaration that the +Prince had committed suicide, a verdict which had its reward--in +advancement for the judges. + +In the winter of 1831-32 there was begun a lawsuit in which the +Princes de Rohan brought action against Sophie and the Duc +d'Aumale for the upsetting of the will under which the latter two +had inherited the Prince de Conde's fortune. The grounds for the +action were the undue influence exerted by Sophie. The Princes +de Rohan lost. + +Thus was Sophie twice `legally' vindicated. But public opinion +refused her any coat of whitewash. Never popular in France, she +became less and less popular in the years that followed her legal +triumphs. Having used her for his own ends, Louis-Philippe +gradually shut off from her the light of his cod-like +countenance.[29] + + +[29] Lacenaire, the notorious murderer-robber in a biting song, +written in prison, expressed the popular opinion regarding +Louis-Philippe's share in the Feucheres-Conde affair. The song, +called Petition d'un voleur a un roi son voisin, has this final +stanza: + + ``Sire, oserais-je reclamer? + Mais ecoutez-moi sans colere: + Le voeu que je vais exprimer + Pourrait bien, ma foi, vous deplaire. + Je suis fourbe, avare, mechant, + Ladre, impitoyable, rapace; + J'ai fait se pendre mon parent: + Sire, cedez-moi votre place.'' + + + +Sophie found little joy in her wide French possessions. She +found herself without friends before whom she could play the +great lady in her castles. She gradually got rid of her +possessions, and returned to her native land. She bought an +estate near Christchurch, in Hampshire, and took a house in Hyde +Park Square, London. But she did not long enjoy those English +homes. While being treated for dropsy in 1840 she died of +angina. According to the famous surgeon who was at her bedside +just before her demise, she died ``game.'' + +It may almost be said that she lived game. There must have been +a fighting quality about Sophie to take her so far from such a +bad start. Violent as she was of temper, greedy, unscrupulous, +she seems yet to have had some instincts of kindness. The +stories of her good deeds are rather swamped by those of her bad +ones. She did try to do some good with the Prince's money round +about Chantilly, took a definite and lasting interest in the +alms-houses built there by ``the Great Conde,'' and a request in +her own will was to the effect that if she had ever done anything +for the Orleans gang, the Prince de Conde's wishes regarding the +use of the chateau of Ecouen as an orphanage might be fulfilled +as a reward to her. The request never was fulfilled, but it does +show that Sophie had some affinity in kindness to Nell Gwynn. + +How much farther--or how much better--would Sophie Dawes have +fared had her manners been less at the mercy of her temper? It +is impossible to say. That she had some quality of greatness is +beyond doubt. The resolution of character, the will to achieve, +and even the viraginous temper might have carried her far had she +been a man some thirty years earlier in the country of her +greater activities. Under Napoleon, as a man, Sophie might have +climbed high on the way to glory. As a woman, with those traits, +there is almost tragic inevitability in the manner in which we +find her ranged with what Dickens called ``Glory's bastard +brother''--Murder. + + + + +VI: ARSENIC A LA BRETONNE + +On Tuesday, the 1st of July, in the year 1851, two gentlemen, +sober of face as of raiment, presented themselves at the office +of the Procureur-General in the City of Rennes. There was no +need for them to introduce themselves to that official. They +were well-known medical men of the city, Drs Pinault and Boudin. +The former of the two acted as spokesman. + +Dr Pinault confessed to some distress of mind. He had been +called in by his colleague for consultation in the case of a +girl, Rosalie Sarrazin, servant to an eminent professor of law, +M. Bidard. In spite of the ministrations of himself and his +colleague, Rosalie had died. The symptoms of the illness had +been very much the same as in the case of a former servant of M. +Bidard's, a girl named Rose Tessier, who had also died. With +this in mind they had persuaded the relatives of Rosalie to +permit an autopsy. They had to confess that they had found no +trace of poison in the body, but they were still convinced the +girl had died of poisoning. With his colleague backing him, Dr +Pinault was able to put such facts before the Procureur-General +that that official almost at once reached for his hat to +accompany the two doctors to M. Bidard's. + +The door of the Professor's house was opened to them by Helene +Jegado, another of M. Bidard's servants. She was a woman of +forty odd, somewhat scraggy of figure and, while not exactly +ugly, not prepossessing of countenance. Her habit of looking +anywhere but into the face of anyone addressing her gave her +rather a furtive air. + +Having ushered the three gentlemen into the presence of the +Professor, the servant-woman lingered by the door. + +``We have come, M. Bidard,'' said the Procureur, ``on a rather +painful mission. One of your servants died recently--it is +suspected, of poisoning.'' + +``I am innocent!'' + +The three visitors wheeled to stare, with the Professor, at the +grey-faced woman in the doorway. It was she who had made the +exclamation. + +``Innocent of what?'' demanded the Law officer. ``No one has +accused you of anything!'' + +This incautious remark on the part of the servant, together with +the facts already put before him by the two doctors and the +information he obtained from her employer, led the +Procureur-General to have her arrested. Helene Jegado's past was +inquired into, and a strange and dreadful Odyssey the last twenty +years of her life proved to be. It was an Odyssey of death. + +Helene was born at Plouhinec, department of Morbihan, on +(according to the official record) ``28 prairial,'' in the +eleventh year of the republic (1803). Orphaned at the age of +seven, she was sheltered by the cure of Bubry, M. Raillau, with +whom two of her aunts were servants. Sixteen years later one of +those aunts, Helene Liscouet, took Helene with her into service +with M. Conan, cure at Seglien, and it was here that Helene +Jegado's evil ways would appear first to become manifest. A girl +looking after the cure's sheep declared she had found grains of +hemp in soup prepared for her by Helene. + +It was not, however, until 1833 that causing death is laid at her +charge. + +In that year she entered the service of a priest in Guern, one Le +Drogo. In the space of little more than three months, from the +28th of June to the 3rd of October, seven persons in the priest's +household died. All those people died after painful vomitings, +and all of them had eaten food prepared by Helene, who nursed +each of them to the last. The victims of this fatal outbreak of +sickness included Helene's own sister Anna (apparently on a visit +to Guern from Bubry), the rector's father and mother, and Le +Drogo himself. This last, a strong and vigorous man, was dead +within thirty-two hours of the first onset of his illness. +Helene, it was said, showed the liveliest sorrow over each of the +deaths, but on the death of the rector was heard to say, ``This +won't be the last!'' Nor was it. Two deaths followed that of Le +Drogo. + +Such a fatal outbreak did not pass without suspicion. The body +of the rector was examined by Dr Galzain, who found indications +of grave disorder in the digestive tracts, with inflammation of +the intestines. His colleague, Dr Martel, had suspicions of +poison, but the pious sorrow of Helene lulled his mind as far as +she was concerned. + +We next find Helene returned to Bubry, replacing her sister Anna +in the service of the cure there. In three months three people +died: Helene's aunt Marie-Jeanne Liscouet and the cure's niece +and sister. This last, a healthy girl of about sixteen, was dead +within four days, and it is to be noted that during her brief +illness she drank nothing but milk from the hands of Helene. But +here, as hitherto, Helene attended all the sufferers. Her grief +over their deaths impressed every one with whom she came in +contact. + +From Bubry Helene went to Locmine. Her family connexion as +servants with the clergy found her room for three days in the +rectory, after which she became apprentice to a needlewoman of +the town, one Marie-Jeanne Leboucher, with whom she lived. The +Widow Leboucher was stricken ill, as also was one of her +daughters. Both died. The son of the house, Pierre, also fell +ill. But, not liking Helene, he refused her ministrations, and +recovered. By this time Helene had become somewhat sensitive. + +``I'm afraid,'' she said to a male relative of the deceased +sempstress, ``that people will accuse me of all those deaths. +Death follows me wherever I go.'' She quitted the Leboucher +establishment in distress. + +A widow of the same town offered her house room. The widow died, +having eaten soup of Helene's preparing. On the day following +the Widow Lorey's death her niece, Veuve Cadic, arrived. The +grief-stricken Helene threw herself into the niece's arms. + +``My poor girl!'' exclaimed the Veuve Cadic. + +``Ai--but I'm so unhappy!'' Helene grieved. ``Where-ever I +go--Seglien, Guern, Bubry, Veuve Laboucher's--people die! + +She had cause for grief, sure enough. In less than eighteen +months thirteen persons with whom she had been closely associated +had died of violent sickness. But more were to follow. + +In May of 1835 Helene was in service with the Dame Toussaint, of +Locmine. Four more people died. They were the Dame's +confidential maid, Anne Eveno, M. Toussaint pere, a daughter of +the house, Julie, and, later, Mme Toussaint herself. They had +eaten vegetable soup prepared by Helene Jegado. Something +tardily the son of the house, liking neither Helene's face nor +the deathly rumours that were rife about her, dismissed her. + +To one as burdened with sorrow as Helene Jegado appeared to be +the life conventual was bound to hold appeal. She betook herself +to the pleasant little town of Auray, which sits on a sea arm +behind the nose of Quiberon, and sought shelter in the convent of +the Eternal Father there. She was admitted as a pensionnaire. +Her sojourn in the convent did not last long, for queer disorders +marked her stay. Linen in the convent cupboards and the garments +of the pupils were maliciously slashed. Helene was suspect and +was packed off. + +Once again Helene became apprentice to a sempstress, this time an +old maid called Anne Lecouvrec, proprietress of the +Bonnes-oeuvres in Auray. The ancient lady, seventy-seven years +of age, tried Helene's soup. She died two days later. To a +niece of the deceased Helene made moan: ``Ah! I carry sorrow. +My masters die wherever I go!'' + +The realization, however, did not prevent Helene from seeking +further employment. She next got a job with a lady named Lefur +in Ploermel, and stayed for a month. During that time Helene's +longing for the life religious found frequent expression, and she +ultimately departed to pay a visit, so she said, to the good +sisters of the Auray community. Some time before her departure, +however, she persuaded Anne Lefur to accept a drink of her +preparing, and Anne, hitherto a healthy woman, became very ill +indeed. In this case Helene did not show her usual solicitude. +She rather heartlessly abandoned the invalid--which would appear +to have been a good thing for the invalid, for, lacking Helene's +ministrations, she got better. + +Helene meantime had found a place in Auray with a lady named +Hetel. The job lasted only a few days. Mme Hetel's son-in-law, +M. Le Dore, having heard why Helene was at need to leave the +convent of the Eternal Father, showed her the door of the house. +That was hasty, but not hasty enough. His mother-in-law, having +already eaten meats cooked by Helene, was in the throes of the +usual violent sickness, and died the day after Helene's +departure. + +Failing to secure another place in Auray, Helene went to Pontivy, +and got a position as cook in the household of the Sieur Jouanno. +She had been there some few months when the son of the house, a +boy of fourteen, died after a sickness of five days that was +marked by vomiting and convulsions. In this case an autopsy was +immediately held. It revealed an inflamed condition of the +stomach and some corrosion of the intestines. But the boy had +been known to be a vinegar-drinker, and the pathological +conditions discovered by the doctor were attributed by him to the +habit. + +Helene's next place was with a M. Kerallic in Hennebont. M. +Kerallic was recovering from a fever. After drinking a tisane +prepared by Helene he had a relapse, followed by repeated and +fierce vomiting that destroyed him in five days. This was in +1836. After that the trail of death which had followed Helene's +itineracy about the lower section of the Brittany peninsula was +broken for three years. + +In 1839 we hear of her again, in the house of the Dame Veron, +where another death occurred, again with violent sickness. + +Two years elapse. In 1841 Helene was in Lorient, domestic +servant to a middle-aged couple named Dupuyde-Lome, with whom +lived their daughter and her husband, a M. Breger. First the +little daughter of the young couple died, then all the members of +the family were seized by illness, its onset being on the day +following the death of the child. No more of the family died, +but M. Dupuy and his daughter suffered from bodily numbness for +years afterwards, with partial paralysis and recurrent pains in +the extremities. + +Helene seems to have made Lorient too hot for herself, and had to +go elsewhere. Port Louis is her next scene of action. A +kinswoman of her master in this town, one Duperron, happened to +miss a sheet from the household stock. Mlle Leblanc charged +Helene with the theft, and demanded the return of the stolen +article. It is recorded that Helene refused to give it up, and +her answer is curious. + +``I am going into retreat,'' she declared. ``God has forgiven me +my sins!'' + +There was perhaps something prophetic in the declaration. By the +time Helene was brought to trial, in 1854, her sins up to this +point of record were covered by the prescription legale, a sort +of statute of limitations in French law covering crime. Between +1833 and 1841 the wanderings of Helene Jegado through those quiet +Brittany towns had been marked by twenty-three deaths, six +illnesses, and numerous thefts. + +There is surcease to Helene's death-dealing between the years of +1841 and 1849, but on the inquiries made after her arrest a +myriad of accusers sprang up to tell of thefts during that time. +They were petty thefts, but towards the end of the period they +begin to indicate a change in Helene's habits. She seems to have +taken to drink, for her thefts are mostly of wine and eau de vie. + +In March 1848 Helene was in Rennes. On the 6th of November of +the following year, having been dismissed from several houses for +theft, she became sole domestic servant to a married couple +called Rabot. Their son, Albert, who was already ill, died in +the end of December. He had eaten a farina porridge cooked by +Helene. In the following February, having discovered Helene's +depredations from the wine-cupboard, M. Rabot gave her notice. +This was on the 3rd of the month. (Helene was to leave on the +13th.) The next day Mme Rabot and Rabot himself, having taken +soup of Helene's making, became very ill. Rabot's mother-in-law +ate a panade prepared by Helene. She too fell ill. They all +recovered after Helene had departed, but Rabot, like M. +Dupuy-de-Lome, was partially paralysed for months afterwards. + +In Helene's next situation, with people called Ozanne, her way of +abstracting liquor again was noticed. She was chided for +stealing eau de vie. Soon after that the Ozannes' little son +died suddenly, very suddenly. The doctor called in thought it +was from a croup fever. + +On the day following the death of the little Ozanne Helene +entered the service of M. Roussell, proprietor of the +Bout-du-Monde hotel in Rennes. Some six weeks later Roussell's +mother suddenly became ill. She had had occasion to reproach +Helene for sullen ill-manners or something of that sort. She ate +some potage which Helene had cooked. The illness that ensued +lasted a long time. Eighteen months later the old lady had +hardly recovered. + +In the hotel with Helene as fellow-servant there was a woman of +thirty, Perrotte Mace, very greatly relied upon by her masters, +with whom she had been five years. She was a strongly built +woman who carried herself finely. Perrotte openly agreed with +the Veuve Roussell regarding Helene's behaviour. This, with the +confidence reposed in Perrotte by the Roussells, might have been +enough to set Helene against her. But there was an additional +cause for jealousy: Jean Andre, the hotel ostler, but also +described as a cabinet-maker, though friendly enough with Helene, +showed a marked preference for the younger, and comelier, +Perrotte. The Veuve Roussell fell ill in the middle of June. In +August Perrotte was seized by a similar malady, and, in spite of +all her resistance, had to take to her bed. Vomiting and purging +marked the course of her illness, pains in the stomach and limbs, +distension of the abdomen, and swelling of the feet. With her +strong constitution she put up a hard fight for her life, but +succumbed on the 1st of September, 1850. The doctors called in, +MM. Vincent and Guyot, were extremely puzzled by the course of +the illness. At times the girl would seem to be on the mend, +then there would come a sudden relapse. After Perrotte's death +they pressed for an autopsy, but the peasant relatives of the +girl showed the usual repugnance of their class to the idea. +Helene was taken red-handed in the theft of wine, and was +dismissed. Fifteen days later she took service with the Bidards. + +These are the salient facts of Helene's progression from 1833 to +1851 as brought out by the investigations made by and for the +Procureur-General of Rennes. All possible channels were explored +to discover where Helene had procured the arsenic, but without +success. Under examination by the Juge d'instruction she stoutly +denied all knowledge of the poison. ``I don't know anything +about arsenic--don't know what it is,'' she repeated. ``No +witness can say I ever had any.'' It was believed that she had +secured a large supply in her early days, and had carried it with +her through the years, but that at the first definite word of +suspicion against her had got rid of it. During her trial +mention was made of packets found in a chest she had used while +at Locsine, the place where seven deaths had occurred. But it +was never clearly established that these packets had contained +arsenic. It was never clearly established, though it could be +inferred, that Helene ever had arsenic at all. + + + +% II + +The first hearings of Helene's case were taken before the Juge +d'instruction in Rennes, and she was remanded to the assizes for +Ille-et-Vilaine, which took place, apparently, in the same city. +The charges against her were limited to eleven thefts, three +murders by poisoning, and three attempts at murder by the like +means. Under the prescription legale twenty-three poisonings, +six attempts at poisoning, and a number of thefts, all of which +had taken place within the space of ten years, had to be left out +of the indictment. We shall see, however, that, under the +curious rules regarding permissible evidence which prevail in +French criminal law, the Assize Court concerned itself quite +largely with this prescribed matter. + +The trial began on the 6th of December, 1851, at a time when +France was in a political uproar--or, more justly perhaps, was +settling down from political uproar. The famous coup d'etat of +that year had happened four days before. Maitre Dorange, +defending Helene, asked for a remand to a later session on the +ground that some of his material witnesses were unavailable owing +to the political situation. An eminent doctor, M. Baudin, had +died ``pour maintien des lois.'' There was some argument on the +matter, but the President ruled that all material witnesses were +present. Scientific experts could be called only to assist the +court. + +The business of this first day was taken up almost completely by +questions on the facts produced in investigation, and these +mostly facts covered by the prescription. The legal value of +this run of questions would seem doubtful in the Anglo-Saxon idea +of justice, but it gives an indication of the shiftiness in +answer of the accused. It was a long interrogation, but Helene +faced it with notable self-possession. On occasion she answered +with vigour, but in general sombrely and with lowered eyes. At +times she broke into volubility. This did not serve to remove +the impression of shiftiness, for her answers were seldom to the +point. + +Wasn't it true, she was asked, that in Locmine she had been +followed and insulted with cries: ``C'est la femme au foie +blanc; elle porte la mort avec elle!''? Nobody had ever said +anything of the sort to her, was her sullen answer. A useless +denial. There were plenty of witnesses to express their belief +in her ``white liver'' and to tell of her reputation of carrying +death. + +Asked why she had been dismissed from the convent at Auray, she +answered that she did not know. The Mother Superior had told her +to go. She had been too old to learn reading and writing. +Pressed on the point of the slashed garments of the pupils and +the linen in the convent cupboards, Helene retorted that somebody +had cut her petticoats as well, and that, anyhow, the sisters had +never accused her of working the mischief. + +This last answer was true in part. The evidence on which Helene +had been dismissed the convent was circumstantial. A sister from +the community described Helene's behaviour otherwise as edifying +indeed. + +After the merciless fashion of French judges, the President came +back time and again to attack Helene on the question of poison. +If Perrotte Mace did not get the poison from her--from whom, +then? + +``I don't know anything of poison,'' was the reply, with the +pious addendum, ``and, God willing, I never will!'' + +This, with variations, was her constant answer. + +``Qu'est-ce que c'est l'arsenic? Je n'en ai jamais vu d'arsenic, +moi!'' + +The President had occasion later to take her up on these denials. +The curate of Seglien came to give evidence. He had been curate +during the time of M. Conan, in whose service Helene had been at +that time. He could swear that M. Conan had repeatedly told his +servants to watch that the domestic animals did not get at the +poisoned bait prepared for the rats. M. Conan's servants had +complete access to the arsenic used. + +Helene interposed at this point. ``I know,'' she said, ``that M. +Conan had asked for arsenic, but I wasn't there at the time. My +aunt told me about it.'' + +The President reminded her that in her interrogaion she had +declared she knew nothing of arsenic, nor had heard anyone speak +of it. Helene sullenly persisted in her first declaration, but +modified it with the admission that her aunt had told her the +stuff was dangerous, and not to be used save with the strictest +precautions. + +This evidence of the arsenic at Seglien was brought forward on +the second day of the trial, when witnesses began to be heard. +Before pursuing the point of where the accused might have +obtained the poison I should like to quote, as typical of the +hypocritical piety exhibited by Helene, one of her answers on the +first day. + +After reminding her that Rose Tessier's sickness had increased +after taking a tisane that Helene had prepared the President +asked if it was not the fact that she alone had looked after +Rose. + +``No,'' Helen replied. ``Everybody was meddling. All I did was +put the tisane on to boil. I have suffered a great deal,'' she +added gratuitously. ``The good God will give me grace to bear up +to the end. If I have not died of my sufferings in prison it is +because God's hand has guided and sustained me.'' + +With that in parenthesis, let us return to the evidence of the +witnesses on the second day of the trial. A great deal of it had +to do with deaths on which, under the prescription, no charge +could be made against Helene, and with thefts that equally could +not be the subject of accusation. + +Dr Galzain, of Ponivy, who, eighteen years before, had performed +the autopsy on Le Drogo, cure of Guern, testified that though he +had then been puzzled by the pathological conditions, he was now +prepared to say they were consistent with arsenical poisoning. + +Martel, a pharmacist, brother of the doctor who had attended Le +Drogo, spoke of his brother's suspicions, suspicions which had +recurred on meeting with the cases at Bubry. They had been +diverted by the lavishly affectionate attendance Helene had given +to the sufferers. + +Relatives of the victims of Locmine told of Helene's predictions +of death, and of her plaints that death followed her everywhere. +They also remarked on the very kind ministrations of Helene. + +Dr Toussaint, doctor at Locmine, and son to the house in which +Helene had for a time been servant, told of his perplexity over +the symptoms in the cases of the Widow Lorey and the youth +Leboucher. In 1835 he had been called in to see Helene herself, +who was suffering from an intermittent fever. Next day the fever +had disappeared. He was told that she had been dosing herself, +and he was shown a packet which had been in her possession. It +contained substances that looked like kermes-mineral,[30] some +saffron, and a white powder that amounted to perhaps ten grammes. +He had disliked Helene at first sight. She had not been long in +his mother's service when his mother's maid-companion (Anne +Eveno), who also had no liking for Helene, fell ill and died. +His father fell violently ill in turn, seemed to get better, and +looked like recovering. But inexplicable complications +supervened, and his father died suddenly of a haemorrhage of the +intestinal canal. His sister Julie, who had been the first to +fall sick, also seemed to recover, but after the death of the +father had a relapse. In his idea Helene, having cured herself, +was able to drug the invalids in her care. The witness ordered +her to be kept completely away from the sufferers, but one night +she contrived to get the nurses out of the way. A confrere he +called in ordered bouillon to be given. Helene had charge of the +kitchen, and it was she who prepared the bouillon. It was she +who administered it. Three hours later his sister died in agony. + + +[30] Or, simply, kermes--a pharmaceutical composition, containing +antimony and sodium sulphates and oxide of antimony--formerly +used as an expectorant. + + + +The witness suggested an autopsy. His family would not agree. +The pious behaviour of Helene put her beyond suspicion, but he +took it on himself to dismiss her. During the illness of his +father, when Helene herself was ill, he went reluctantly to see +her, being told that she was dying. Instead of finding her in +bed he came upon her making some sort of white sauce. As soon as +he appeared she threw herself into bed and pretended to be +suffering intense pain. A little later he asked to see the +sauce. It had disappeared. + +He had advised his niece to reserve his sister's evacuations. +His niece replied that Helene was so scrupulously tidy that such +vessels were never left about, but were taken away at once to be +emptied and cleaned. ``I revised my opinion of the woman after +she had gone,'' added the witness. ``I thought her very well +behaved.'' + + +HELENE. I never had any drugs in my possession--never. When I +had fever I took the powders given me by the doctor, but I did +not know what they were! + +THE PRESIDENT. Why did you say yesterday that nothing was ever +found in your luggage? + +HELENE. I didn't remember. + +THE PRESIDENT. What were you doing with the saffron? Wasn't it +in your possession during the time you were in Seglien? + +HELENE. I was taking it for my blood. + +THE PRESIDENT. And the white powder--did it also come from +Seglien? + +HELENE [energetically]. Never have I had white powder in my +luggage! Never have I seen arsenic! Never has anyone spoken to +me of arsenic! + +Upon this the President rightly reminded her that she had said +only that morning that her aunt had talked to her of arsenic at +Seglien, and had warned her of its lethal qualities. ``You deny +the existence of that white powder,'' said the President, +``because you know it was poison. You put it away from you with +horror!'' + +The accused several times tried to answer this charge, but +failed. Her face was beaded with moisture. + + +THE PRESIDENT. Had you or had you not any white powder at +Losmine? + +HELENE. I can't say if I still had fever there. + +THE PRESIDENT. What was that powder? When did you first have +it? + +HELENE. I had taken it at Locmine. Somebody gave it to me for +two sous. + +THE PRESIDENT. Why didn t you say so at the beginning, instead +of waiting until you are confounded by the witness? [To Dr +Toussaint] What would the powder be, monsieur? What powder +would one prescribe for fever? + +DR TOUSSAINT. Sulphate of quinine; but that's not what it was. + + +Questioned by the advocate for the defence, the witness said he +would not affirm that the powder he saw was arsenic. His present +opinion, however, was that his father and sister had died from +injections of arsenic in small doses. + +A witness from Locmine spoke of her sister's two children +becoming ill after taking chocolate prepared by the accused. The +latter told her that a mob had followed her in the street, +accusing her of the deaths of those she had been servant to. + +Then came one of those curious samples of `what the soldier said' +that are so often admitted in French criminal trials as evidence. +Louise Clocher said she had seen Helene on the road between Auray +and Lorient in the company of a soldier. When she told some one +of it people said, ``That wasn't a soldier! It was the devil you +saw following her!'' + +One rather sympathizes with Helene in her protest against this +testimony. + +From Ploermel, Auray, Lorient, and other places doctors and +relatives of the dead came to bear witness to Helene's cooking +and nursing activities, and to speak of the thefts she had been +found committing. Where any suspicion had touched Helene her +piety and her tender care of the sufferers had disarmed it. The +astonishing thing is that, with all those rumours of `white +livers' and so on, the woman could proceed from place to place +within a few miles of each other, and even from house to house in +the same towns, leaving death in her tracks, without once being +brought to bay. Take the evidence of M. Le Dore, son-in-law of +that Mme Hetel who died in Auray, His mother-in-law became ill +just after Helene's reputation was brought to his notice. The +old lady died next day. + +``The day following the revelation,'' said M. Le Dore, ``I put +Helene out. She threw herself on the ground uttering fearsome +yells. The day's meal had been prepared. I had it thrown out, +and put Helene herself to the door with her luggage, INTO WHICH +SHE HASTILY STOWED A PACKET. Mme Hetel died next day in fearful +agony.'' + +I am responsible for the italicizing. It is hard to understand +why M. Le Dore did no more than put Helene to the door. He was +suspicious enough to throw out the meal prepared by Helene, and +he saw her hastily stow a packet in her luggage. But, though he +was Mayor of Auray, he did nothing more about his mother-in-law's +death. It is to be remarked, however, that the Hetels themselves +were against the brusque dismissal of Helene. She had +``smothered the mother with care and attentions.'' + +But one gets perhaps the real clue to Helene's long immunity from +the remark made in court by M. Breger, son-in-law of that Lorient +couple, M. and Mme Dupuyde-Lome. He had thought for a moment of +suspecting Helene of causing the child's death and the illness of +the rest of the family, but ``there seemed small grounds. What +interest had the girl in cutting off their lives?'' + +It is a commonplace that murder without motive is the hardest to +detect. The deaths that Helene Jegado contrived between 1833 and +1841, twenty-three in number, and the six attempts at murder +which she made in that length of time, are, without exception, +crimes quite lacking in discoverable motive. It is not at all on +record that she had reason for wishing to eliminate any one of +those twenty-three persons. She seems to have poisoned for the +mere sake of poisoning. Save to the ignorant and superstitious, +such as followed her in the streets to accuse her of having a +``white liver'' and a breath that meant death, she was an +unfortunate creature with an odd knack of finding herself in +houses where `accidents' happened. Time and again you find her +being taken in by kindly people after such `accidents,' and made +an object of sympathy for the dreadful coincidences that were +making her so unhappy. It was out of sympathy that the Widow +Lorey, of Locmine, took Helene into her house. On the widow's +death the niece arrived. In court the niece described the scene +on her arrival. ``Helene embraced me,'' she said. ``'Unhappy +me!' she wept. `Wherever I go everybody dies!' I pitied and +consoled her.'' She pitied and consoled Helene, though they were +saying in the town that the girl had a white liver and that her +breath brought death! + +Where Helene had neglected to combine her poisoning with detected +pilfering the people about her victims could see nothing wrong in +her conduct. Witness after witness --father, sister, husband, +niece, son-in-law, or relation in some sort to this or that +victim of Helene's--repeated in court, ``The girl went away with +nothing against her.'' And even those who afterwards found +articles missing from their household goods: ``At the same time +I did not suspect her probity. She went to Mass every morning +and to the evening services. I was very surprised to find some +of my napkins among the stuff Helene was accused of stealing.'' +``I did not know of Helene's thefts until I was shown the objects +stolen,'' said a lady of Vannes. ``Without that proof I would +never have suspected the girl. Helene claimed affiliation with a +religious sisterhood, served very well, and was a worker.'' + +It is perhaps of interest to note how Helene answered the +testimony regarding her thieving proclivities. Mme Lejoubioux, +of Vannes, said her furnishing bills went up considerably during +the time Helene was in her service. Helene had purloined two +cloths. + +Helene: ``That was for vengeance. I was furious at being sent +away. + +Sieur Cesar le Clerc and Mme Gauthier swore to thefts from them +by Helene. + +Helene: ``I stole nothing from Mme Gauthier except one bottle of +wine. If I commit a larceny it is from choler. WHEN I'M FURIOUS +I STEAL!'' + +It was when Helene began to poison for vengeance that retribution +fell upon her. Her fondness for the bottle started to get her +into trouble. It made her touchy. Up to 1841 she had poisoned +for the pleasure of it, masking her secret turpitude with an +outward show of piety, of being helpful in time of trouble. By +the time she arrived in Rennes, in 1848, after seven years during +which her murderous proclivities seem to have slept, her +character as a worker, if not as a Christian, had deteriorated. +Her piety, in the face of her fondness for alcohol and her +slovenly habits, and against her now frequently exhibited bursts +of temper and ill-will, appeared the hypocrisy it actually was. +Her essays in poisoning now had purpose and motive behind them. +Nemesis, so long at her heels, overtook her. + + + +% III + +It is not clear in the accounts available to me just what +particular murders by poison, what attempts at poisoning, and +what thefts Helene was charged with in the indictment at Rennes. +Twenty-three poisonings, six attempts, and a number of thefts had +been washed out, it may be as well to repeat, by the prescription +legale. But from her arrival in Rennes, leaving the thefts out +of account, her activities had accounted for the following: In +the Rabot household one death (Albert, the son) and three +illnesses (Rabot, Mme Rabot, the mother-in-law); in the Ozanne +establishment one death (that of the little son), in the hotel of +the Roussells one death (that of Perrotte Mace) and one illness +(that of the Veuve Roussell); at the Bidards two deaths (Rose +Tessier and Rosalie Sarrazin). In this last establishment there +was also one attempt at poisoning which I have not yet mentioned, +that of a young servant, named Francoise Huriaux, who for a short +time had taken the place of Rose Tessier. We thus have five +deaths and five attempts in Rennes, all of which could be +indictable. But, as already stated, the indictment covered three +deaths and three attempts. + +It is hard to say, from verbatim reports of the trial, where the +matter of the indictment begins to be handled. It would seem +from the evidence produced that proof was sought of all five +deaths and all five attempts that Helene was supposed to be +guilty of in Rennes. The father of the boy Ozanne was called +before the Rabot witnesses, though the Rabot death and illnesses +occurred before the death of the Ozanne child. We may, however, +take the order of affairs as dealt with in the court. We may see +something of motive on Helene's part suggested in M. Ozanne's +evidence, and an indication of her method of covering her crime. + +M. Ozanne said that Helene, in his house, drank eau de vie in +secret, and, to conceal her thefts, filled the bottle up with +cider. He discovered the trick, and reproached Helene for it. +She denied the accusation with vigour, and angrily announced her +intention of leaving. Mme Ozanne took pity on Helene, and told +her she might remain several days longer. On the Tuesday +following the young child became ill. The illness seemed to be a +fleeting one, and the father and mother thought he had recovered. +On the Saturday, however, the boy was seized by vomiting, and the +parents wondered if they should send for the doctor. ``If the +word was mine,'' said Helene, who had the boy on her knees, ``and +the child as ill as he looks, I should not hesitate.'' The +doctor was sent for about noon on Sunday. He thought it only a +slight illness. Towards evening the child began to complain of +pain all over his body. His hands and feet were icy cold. His +body grew taut. About six o'clock the doctor came back. ``My +God!'' he exclaimed. ``It's the croup!'' He tried to apply +leeches, but the boy died within a few minutes. Helene hastened +the little body into its shroud. + +Helene, said Ozanne, always talked of poison if anyone left their +food. ``Do you think I'm poisoning you?'' she would ask. + +A girl named Cambrai gave evidence that Helene, coming away from +the cemetery after the burial of the child, said to her, ``I am +not so sorry about the child. Its parents have treated me +shabbily.'' The witness thought Helene too insensitive and +reproached her. + +``That's a lie!'' the accused shouted. ``I loved the child!'' + +The doctor, M. Brute, gave evidence next. He still believed the +child had died of a croup affection, the most violent he had ever +seen. The President questioned him closely on the symptoms he +had seen in the child, but the doctor stuck to his idea. He had +seen nothing to make him suspect poisoning. + +The President: ``It is strange that in all the cases we have +under review the doctors saw nothing at first that was serious. +They admit illness and prescribe mild remedies, and then, +suddenly, the patients get worse and die.'' + +M. Victor Rabot was called next. To begin with, he said, +Helene's services were satisfactory. He had given her notice +because he found her stealing his wine. Upon this Helene showed +the greatest discontent, and it was then that Mme Rabot fell ill. +A nurse was put in charge of her, but Helene found a way to get +rid of her. Helene had no love for his child. The child had a +horror of the servant, because she was dirty and took snuff. In +consequence Helene had a spite against the boy. Helene had never +been seen eating any of the dishes prepared for the family, and +even insisted on keeping certain of the kitchen dishes for her +own use. + +At the request of his father-in-law Helene had gone to get a +bottle of violet syrup from the pharmacist. The bottle was not +capped. His father-in-law thought the syrup had gone bad, +because it was as red as mulberry syrup, and refused to give it +to his daughter (Mme Rabot). The bottle was returned to the +pharmacist, who remarked that the colour of the syrup had +changed, and that he did not recognize it as his own. + +Mme Rabot having corroborated her husband's evidence, and told of +Helene's bad temper, thieving, and disorderliness, Dr Vincent +Guyot, of Rennes, was called. + +Dr Guyot described the illness of the boy Albert and its result. +He then went on to describe the illness of Mme Rabot. He and his +confreres had attributed her sickness to the fact that she was +enceinte, and to the effect of her child's death upon her while +in that condition. A miscarriage of a distressing nature +confirmed the first prognosis. But later he and his confreres +saw reason to change their minds. He believed the boy had been +poisoned, though he could not be certain. The mother, he was +convinced, had been the victim of an attempt at poisoning, an +opinion which found certainty in the case of Mme Briere. If Mme +Rabot's pregnancy went some way in explaining her illness there +was nothing of this in the illness of her mother. The +explanation of everything was in repeated dosing of an arsenical +substance. + +The witness had also attended Mme Roussell, of the Bout-du-Monde +hotel. It was remarkable that the violent sickness to which this +lady was subject for twenty days did not answer to treatment, but +stopped only when she gave up taking food prepared for her by +Helene Jegado. + +He had also looked after Perrotte Mace. Here also he had had +doubts of the nature of the malady; at one time he had suspected +pregnancy, a suspicion for which there were good grounds. But +the symptoms that later developed were not consistent with the +first diagnosis. When Perrotte died he and M. Revault, his +confrere, thought the cause of death would be seen as poison in +an autopsy. But the post-mortem was rejected by the parents. +His feeling to-day was that Mme Roussell's paralysis was due to +arsenical dosage, and that Perrotte had died of poisoning. +Helene, speaking to him of Perrotte, had said, ``She's a chest +subject. She'll never get better!'' And she had used the same +phrase, ``never get better,'' with regard to little Rabot. + +M. Morio, the pharmacist of Rennes from whom the violet syrup was +bought, said that Helene had often complained to him about Mme +Roussell. During the illness of the Rabot boy she had said that +the child was worse than anyone imagined, and that he would never +recover. In the matter of the violet syrup he agreed it had come +back to him looking red. The bottle had been put to one side, +but its contents had been thrown away, and he had therefore been +unable to experiment with it. He had found since, however, that +arsenic in powder form did not turn violet syrup red, though +possibly arsenic in solution with boiling water might produce the +effect. The change seen in the syrup brought back from M. +Rabot's was not to be accounted for by such fermentation as the +mere warmth of the hand could bring about. + +Several witnesses, interrupted by denials and explanations from +the accused, testified to having heard Helene say that neither +the Rabot boy nor his mother would recover. + +The evidence of M. Roussell, of the Bout-du-Monde hotel, touched +on the illnesses of his mother and Perrotte. He knew nothing of +the food prepared by Helene; nor had the idea of poison occurred +to him until her arrest. Helene's detestable character, her +quarrels with other servants, and, above all, the thefts of wine +he had found her out in were the sole causes of her dismissal. +He had noticed that Helene never ate with the other domestics. +She always found an excuse for not doing so. She said she had +stomach trouble and could not hold down her food. + +The Veuve Roussell had to be helped into court by her son. She +dealt with her own illness and with the death of Perrotte. Her +illness did not come on until she had scolded Helene for her bad +ways. + +Dr Revault, confrere of Guyot, regretted the failure to perform a +post-mortem on the body of Perrotte. He had said to Roussell +that if Perrotte's illness was analogous to cholera it was, +nevertheless, not that disease. He believed it was due to a +poison. + +The President: ``Chemical analysis has proved the presence of +arsenic in the viscera of Perrotte. Who administered that +arsenic, the existence of which was so shrewdly foreseen by the +witness? Who gave her the arsenic? [To Helene] Do you know? +Was it not you that gave it her, Helene?'' + +At this Helene murmured something unintelligible, but, gathering +her voice, she protested, ``I have never had arsenic in my hands, +Monsieur le President--never!'' + +Something of light relief was provided by Jean Andre, the +cabinet-making ostler of Saint-Gilles, he for whose attention +Helene had been a rival with Perrotte Mace. + +``The service Helene gave was excellent. So was mine. She +nursed Perrotte perfectly, but said it was in vain, because the +doctors were mishandling the disease. She told me one day that +she was tired of service, and that her one wish was to retire.'' + +``Did you attach a certain idea to the confidence about +retiring?'' + +``No!'' Andre replied energetically. + +``You were in hospital. When you came back, did Helene take good +care of you?'' + +``She gave me bouillon every morning to build me up.'' + +``The bouillon she gave you did you no harm?'' + +``On the contrary, it did me a lot of good.'' + +``Wasn't the accused jealous of Perrotte--that good-looking girl +who gave you so much of her favour?'' + +``In her life Perrotte was a good girl. She never was out of +sorts for a moment--never rubbed one the wrong way.'' + +``Didn't Helene say to you that Perrotte would never recover?'' + +``Yes, she said that. `She's a lost woman,' she said; `the +doctors are going the wrong way with the disease.' + +``All the same,'' Andre went on, ``Helene never ate with us. She +worked night and day, but ate in secret, I believe. Anyhow, a +friend of mine told me he'd once seen her eating a crust of +bread, and chewing some other sort of food at the same time. As +for me--I don't know; but I don't think you can live without +eating.'' + +``I couldn't keep down what I ate,'' Helene interposed. ``I took +some bouillon here and there; sometimes a mouthful of +bread--nothing in secret. I never thought of Andre in +marriage--not him more than another. That was all a joke.'' + +A number of witnesses, friends of Perrotte, who had seen her +during her illness, spoke of the extreme dislike the girl had +shown for Helene and for the liquids the latter prepared for her. +Perrotte would say to Helene, ``But you're dirty, you ugly +Bretonne!'' Perrotte had a horror of bouillon: ``Ah--these +vegetable soups! I've had enough of them! It was what Helene +gave me that night that made me ill!'' The witnesses did not +understand all this, because the accused seemed to be very good +to her fellow-servant. At the bedside Helene cried, ``Ah! What +can I do that will save you, my poor Perrotte?'' When Perrotte +was dying she wanted to ask Helene's pardon. Embracing the dying +girl, the accused replied, ``Ah! There's no need for that, my +poor Perrotte. I know you didn't mean anything.'' + +A witness telling of soup Helene had made for Perrotte, which the +girl declared to have been poisoned, it was asked what happened +to the remainder of it. The President passed the question to +Helene, who said she had thrown it into the hearth. + + + +% IV + +The most complete and important testimony in the trial was given +by M. Theophile Bidard, professor to the law faculty of Rennes. + +The facts he had to bring forward, he said, had taken no +significance in his mind until the last of them transpired. He +would have to go back into the past to trace them in their proper +order. + +He recalled the admission of Helene to his domestic staff and the +good recommendations on which he had engaged her. From the first +Helene proved herself to have plenty of intelligence, and he had +believed that her intelligence was combined with goodness of +heart. This was because he had heard that by her work she was +supporting two small children, as well as her poor old mother, +who had no other means of sustenance. + +(The reader will recollect that Helene was orphaned at the age of +seven.) + +Nevertheless, said M. Bidard, Helene was not long in his +household before her companion, Rose Tessier, began to suffer in +plenty from the real character of Helene Jegado. + +Rose had had a fall, an accident which had left her with pains in +her back. There were no very grave symptoms but Helene +prognosticated dire results. One night, when the witness was +absent in the country, Helene rose from her bed, and, approaching +her fellow-servant's room, called several times in a sepulchral +voice, ``Rose, Rose!'' That poor girl took fright, and hid under +the bedclothes, trembling. + +Next day Rose complained to witness, who took his domestics to +task. Helene pretended it was the farm-boy who had perpetrated +the bad joke. She then declared that she herself had heard some +one give a loud knock. ``I thought,'' she said, ``that I was +hearing the call for poor Rose.'' + +On Sunday, the 3rd of November, 1850, M. Bidard, who had been in +the country, returned to Rennes. After dinner that day, a meal +which she had taken in common with Helene, Rose was seized with +violent sickness. Helene lavished on her the most motherly +attention. She made tea, and sat up the night with the invalid. +In the morning, though she still felt ill, Rose got up. Helene +made tea for her again. Rose once more was sick, violently, and +her sickness endured until the witness himself had administered +copious draughts of tea prepared by himself. Rose passed a +fairly good night, and Dr Pinault, who was called in, saw nothing +more in the sickness than some nervous affection. But on the day +of the 5th the vomitings returned. Helene exclaimed, ``The +doctors do not understand the disease. Rose is going to die!'' +The prediction seemed foolish as far as immediate appearances +were concemed, for Rose had an excellent pulse and no trace of +fever. + +In the night between Tuesday and Wednesday the patient was calm, +but on the morning of Wednesday she had vomitings with intense +stomach pains. From this time on, said the witness, the life of +Rose, which was to last only thirty-six hours, was nothing but a +long-drawn and heart-rending cry of agony. She drew her last +breath on the Thursday evening at half-past five. During her +whole illness, added M. Bidard, Rose was attended by none save +Helene and himself. + +Rose's mother came. In Rose the poor woman had lost a beloved +child and her sole support. She was prostrated. Helene's grief +seemed to equal the mother's. Tears were ever in her eyes, and +her voice trembled. Her expressions of regret almost seemed to +be exaggerated. + +There was a moment when the witness had his doubts. It was on +the way back from the cemetery. For a fleeting instant he +thought that the shaking of Helene's body was more from glee than +sorrow, and he momentarily accused her in his mind of hypocrisy. +But in the following days Helene did nothing but talk of ``that +poor Rose,'' and M. Bidard, before her persistence, could only +believe he had been mistaken. ``Ah!'' Helene said. ``I loved +her as I did that poor girl who died in the Bout-du-Monde.'' + +The witness wanted to find some one to take Rose's place. Helene +tried to dissuade him. ``Never mind another femme de chambre,'' +she said. ``I will do everything.'' M. Bidard contented himself +with engaging another girl, Francoise Huriaux, strong neither in +intelligence nor will, but nevertheless a sweet little creature. +Not many days passed before Helene began to make the girl +unhappy. ``It's a lazy-bones,'' Helene told the witness. ``She +does not earn her keep.'' (``Le pain qu'elle mange, elle le +vole.'') M. Bidard shut her up. That was his affair, he said. + +Francoise meantime conceived a fear of Helene. She was so scared +of the older woman that she obeyed all her orders without +resistance. The witness, going into the kitchen one day, found +Helene eating her soup at one end of the table, while Francoise +dealt with hers at the other extreme. He told Helene that in +future she was to serve the repast in common, on a tablecloth, +and that it was to include dessert from his table. This order +seemed to vex Helene extremely. ``That girl seems to live +without eating,'' she said, ``and she never seems to sleep.'' + +One day the witness noticed that the hands and face of Francoise +were puffy. He spoke to Helene about it, who became angry. She +accused her companion of getting up in the night to make tea, so +wasting the sugar, and she swore she would lock the sugar up. M. +Bidard told her to do nothing of the sort. He said if Francoise +had need of sugar she was to have it. ``All right--I see,'' +Helene replied sullenly, obviously put out. + +The swelling M. Bidard had seen in the face and hands of +Francoise attacked her legs, and all service became impossible +for the girl. The witness was obliged to entrust Helene with the +job of finding another chambermaid. It was then that she brought +Rosalie Sarrazin to him. ``A very good girl,'' she said. `` If +her dress is poor it is because she gives everything to her +mother.'' + +The words, M. Bidard commented, were said by Helene with +remarkable sincerity. It was said that Helene had no moral +sense. It seemed to him, from her expressions regarding that +poor girl, who, like herself, devoted herself to her mother, that +Helene was far from lacking in that quality. + +Engaging Rosalie, the witness said to his new domestic, ``You +will find yourself dealing with a difficult companion. Do not +let her be insolent to you. You must assert yourself from the +start. I do not want Helene to rule you as she ruled +Francoise.'' At the same time he repeated his order regarding +the service of the kitchen meals. Helene manifested a sullen +opposition. ``Who ever heard of tablecloths for the servants?'' +she said. ``It is ridiculous!'' + +In the first days the tenderness between Helene and the new girl +was quite touching. But circumstance arose to end the harmony. +Rosalie could write. On the 23rd of May the witness told Helene +that he would like her to give him an account of expenses. The +request made Helene angry, and increased her spite against the +more educated Rosalie. Helene attempting to order Rosalie about, +the latter laughingly told her, ``M. Bidard pays me to obey him. +If I have to obey you also you'll have to pay me too.'' From +that time Helene conceived an aversion from the girl. + +About the time when Helene began to be sour to Rosalie she +herself was seized by vomitings. She complained to Mlle Bidard, +a cousin of the witness, that Rosalie neglected her. But when +the latter went up to her room Helene yelled at her, `` Get out, +you ugly brute! In you I've brought into the house a stick for +my own back!'' + +This sort of quarrelling went on without ceasing. At the +beginning of June the witness said to Helene, ``If this continues +you'll have to look for another place.'' ``That's it!'' Helene +yelled, in reply. ``Because of that girl I'll have to go!'' + +On the 10th of June M. Bidard gave Helene definite notice. It +was to take effect on St John's Day. At his evening meal he was +served with a roast and some green peas. These last he did not +touch. In spite of his prohibition against her serving at table, +it was Helene who brought the peas in. ``How's this?'' she said +to him. ``You haven't eaten your green peas--and them so good!'' +Saying this, she snatched up the dish and carried it to the +kitchen. Rosalie ate some of the peas. No sooner had she taken +a few spoonfuls, however, than she grew sick, and presently was +seized by vomiting. Helene took no supper. She said she was out +of sorts and wanted none. + +The witness did not hear of these facts until next day. He +wanted to see the remainder of the peas, but they could not be +found. Rosalie still kept being sick, and he bade her go and see +his doctor, M. Boudin. Helene, on a sudden amiable to Rosalie +where she had been sulky, offered to go with her. Dr Boudin +prescribed an emetic, which produced good effects. + +On the 15th of June Rosalie seemed to have recovered. In the +meantime a cook presented herself at his house to be engaged in +place of Helene. The latter was acquainted with the new-comer. +A vegetable soup had been prescribed for Rosalie, and this Helene +prepared. The convalescent ate some, and at once fell prey to +violent sickness. That same day Helene came in search of the +witness. ``You're never going to dismiss me for that young +girl?'' she demanded angrily. M. Bidard relented. He said that +if she would promise to keep the peace with Rosalie he would let +her stay on. Helene seemed to be satisfied, and behaved better +to Rosalie, who began to mend again. + +M. Bidard went into the country on the 21st of June, taking +Rosalie with him. They returned on the 22nd. The witness +himself went to the pharmacy to get a final purgative of Epsom +salts, which had been ordered for Rosalie by the doctor. This +the witness himself divided into three portions, each of which he +dissolved in separate glasses of whey prepared by Helene. The +witness administered the first dose. Helene gave the last. The +invalid vomited it. She was extremely ill on the night of the +22nd-23rd, and Helene returned to misgivings about the skill of +the doctors. She kept repeating, ``Ah! Rosalie will die! I +tell you she will die!'' On the day of the 23rd she openly +railed against them. M. Boudin had prescribed leeches and +blisters. ``Look at that now, monsieur,'' Helene said to the +witness. ``To-morrow's Rosalie's name-day, and they're going to +put leeches on her!'' Rather disturbed, M. Bidard wrote to Dr +Pinault, who came next day and gave the treatment his approval. + +Dr Boudin had said the invalid might have gooseberry syrup with +seltzer water. Two glasses of the mixture given to Rosalie by +her mother seemed to do the girl good, but after the third glass +she did not want any more. Helene had given her this third +glass. The invalid said to the witness, ``I don't know what +Helene has put into my drink, but it burns me like red-hot +iron.'' + +``Struck by those symptoms,'' added M. Bidard, ``I questioned +Helene at once. It has not been given me more than twice in my +life to see Helene's eyes. I saw at that moment the look she +flung at Rosalie. It was the look of a wild beast, a tiger-cat. +At that moment my impulse was to go to my work-room for a cord, +and to tie her up and drag her to the justiciary. But one +reflection stopped me. What was this I was about to do--disgrace +a woman on a mere suspicion? I hesitated. I did not know +whether I had before me a poisoner or a woman of admirable +devotion.'' + +The witness enlarged on the tortures of mind he experienced +during the night, but said he found reason to congratulate +himself on not having given way to his first impulse. On the +morning of the 24th Helene came running to him, all happiness, to +say that Rosalie was better. + +Three days later Rosalie seemed to be nearly well, so much so +that M. Bidard felt he might safely go into the country. Next +day, however, he was shocked by the news that Rosalie was as ill +as ever. He hastened to return to Rennes. + +On the night of the 28th-29th the sickness continued with +intensity. Every two hours the invalid was given calming +medicine prescribed by Dr Boudin. Each time the sickness +redoubled in violence. Believing it was a case of worms, the +witness got out of bed, and substituted for the medicine a strong +infusion of garlic. This stopped the sickness temporarily. At +six in the morning it began again. + +The witness then ran to Dr Pinault's, but met the doctor in the +street with his confrere, Dr Guyot. To the two doctors M. Bidard +expressed the opinion that there were either worms in the +intestines or else the case was one of poisoning. ``I have +thought that,'' said Dr Pinault, ``remembering the case of the +other girl.'' The doctors went back with M. Bidard to his house. +Magnesia was administered in a strong dose. The vomiting +stopped. But it was too late. + +Until that day the witness's orders that the ejected matter from +the invalid should be conserved had been ignored. The moment a +vessel was dirty Helene took it away and cleaned it. But now the +witness took the vessels himself, and locked them up in a +cupboard for which he alone had the key. His action seemed to +disturb Helene Jegado. From this he judged that she had intended +destroying the poison she had administered. + +From that time Rosalie was put into the care of her mother and a +nurse. Helene tried hard to be rid of the two women, accusing +them of tippling to the neglect of the invalid. ``I will sit up +with her,'' she said to the witness. The witness did not want +her to do so, but he could not prevent her joining the mother. + +In the meantime Rosalie suffered the most dreadful agonies. She +could neither sit up nor lie down, but threw herself about with +great violence. During this time Helene was constantly coming +and going about her victim. She had not the courage, however, to +watch her victim die. At five in the morning she went out to +market, leaving the mother alone with her child. The poor +mother, worn out with her exertions, also went out, to ask for +help from friends. Rosalie died in the presence of the witness +at seven o'clock in the morning of the 1st of July. Helene +returned. ``It is all over,'' said the witness. Helene's first +move was to look for the vessels containing the ejections of the +invalid to throw them out. These were green in hue. M. Bidard +stopped her, and locked the vessels up. That same day justice +was invoked. + +M. Bidard's deposition had held his hearers spellbound for over +an hour and a half. He had believed, he added finally, that, in +spite of her criminal conduct, Helene at least was a faithful +servant. He had been wrong. She had put his cellar to pillage, +and in her chest they had found many things belonging to him, +besides a diamond belonging to his daughter and her wedding-ring. + +The President questioned Helene on the points of this important +deposition. Helene simply denied everything. It had not been +she who was jealous of Rosalie, but Rosalie who had been jealous +of her. She had given the two girls all the nursing she could, +with no intention but that of helping them to get better. To the +observation of the President, once again, that arsenic had been +administered, and to his question, what person other than she had +a motive for poisoning the girls, or had such opportunity for +doing so, Helene answered defiantly, ``You won't redden my face +by talking of arsenic. I defy anybody to say they saw me give +arsenic.'' + +The Procureur-General invited M. Bidard to say what amount of +intelligence he had found in Helene. M. Bidard declared that he +had never seen in any of his servants an intelligence so acute or +subtle. He held her to be a phenomenon in hypocrisy. He put +forward a fact which he had neglected to mention in his +deposition. It might throw light on the character of the +accused. Francoise had a dress hanging up to dry in the mansard. +Helene went up to the garret above this, made a hole in the +ceiling, and dropped oil of vitriol on her companion's dress to +burn it. + +Dr Pinault gave an account of Rosalie's illness, and spoke of the +suspicions he and his colleagues had had of poisoning. It was a +crime, however, for which there seemed to be no motive. The +poisoner could hardly be M. Bidard, and as far as suspicion might +touch the cook, she seemed to be lavish in her care of the +patient. It was not until the very last that he, with his +colleagues, became convinced of poison. + +Rosalie dead, the justiciary went to M. Bidard's. The cupboards +were searched carefully. The potion which Rosalie had thought to +be mixed with burning stuff was still there, just sampled. It +was put into a bottle and capped. + +An autopsy could not now be avoided. It was held next day. M. +Pinault gave an account of the results. Most of the organs were +in a normal condition, and such slight alterations as could be +seen in others would not account for death. It was concluded +that death had been occasioned by poison. The autopsy on the +exhumed body of Perrotte Mace was inconclusive, owing to the +condition of adipocere. + +Dr Guyot spoke of the case of Francoise Huriaux, and was now sure +she had been given poison in small doses. Dr Boudin described +the progress of Rosalie's illness. He was in no doubt, like his +colleagues, that she had been poisoned. + +The depositions of various witnesses followed. A laundress said +that Helene's conduct was to be explained by jealousy. She could +not put up with any supervision, but wanted full control ofthe +household and ofthe money. + +Francoise Huriaux said Helene was angry because M. Bidard would +not have her as sole domestic. She had resented Francoise's +being engaged. The witness noticed that she became ill whenever +she ate food prepared for her by Helene. When she did not eat +Helene was angry but threw out the food Francoise refused. + +Several witnesses testified to the conduct of Helene towards +Rosalie Sarrazin during her fatal illness. Helene was constant, +self-sacrificing, in her attention to the invalid. One incident, +however, was described by a witness which might indicate that +Helene's solicitude was not altogether genuine. One morning, +towards the end of Rosalie's life, the patient, in her agony, +escaped from the hold of her mother, and fell into an awkward +position against the wall. Rosalie's mother asked Helene to +place a pillow for her. ``Ma foi!'' Helene replied. ``You're +beginning to weary me. You're her mother! Help her yourself!'' + +The testimony of a neighbour, one Francoise Louarne, a domestic +servant, supports the idea that Helene resented the presence of +Rosalie in the house. Helene said to this witness, ``M. Bidard +has gone into the country with his housemaid. Everything SHE +does is perfect. They leave me here--to work if I want to, eat +my bread dry: that's my reward. But the housemaid will go before +I do. Although M. Bidard has given me my notice, he'll have to +order me out before I'll go. Look!'' Helene added. ``Here's the +bed of the ugly housemaid--in a room not too far from the +master's. Me--they stick me up in the mansard!'' Later, when +Rosalie was very ill, Helene pretended to be grieved. ``You +can't be so very sorry,'' the witness remarked; ``you've said +plenty that was bad about the girl.'' + +Helene vigorously denounced the testimony as all lies. The woman +had never been near Bidard's house. + +The pharmacist responsible for dispensing the medicines given to +Rosalie was able to show that arsenic could not have got into +them by mistake on his part. + +At the hearing of the trial on the 12th of December Dr Pinault +was asked to tell what happened when the emissions of Rosalie +Sarrazin were being transferred for analysis. + + +DR PINAULT. As we were carrying out the operation Helene came +in, and it was plain that she was put out of countenance. + +M. BIDARD [interposing]. We were in my daughter's room, where +nobody ever came. When Helene came to the door I was surprised. +There was no explanation for her appearance except that she was +inquisitive. + +DR PINAULT. She seemed to be disturbed at not finding the +emissions by the bed of the dead girl, and it was no doubt to +find them that she came to the room. + +HELENE. I had been given a funnel to wash. I was bringing it +back. + +M. BIDARD. Helene, with her usual cleverness, is making the most +of a fact. She had already appeared when she was given the +funnel. Her presence disturbed me. And to get rid of her I +said, ``Here, Helene, take this away and wash it.'' + +The accused persisted in denying M. Bidard's version of the +incident. + + + +% V + +M. Malagutti, professor of chemistry to the faculty of sciences +in Rennes, who, with M. Sarzeau, had been asked to make a +chemical analysis of the reserved portions of the bodies of +Rosalie, Perrotte Mace, and Rose Tessier, gave the results of his +and his colleague s investigations. In the case of Rosalie they +had also examined the vomitings. The final test on the portions +of Rosalie's body carried out with hydrochloronitric acid--as +best for the small quantities likely to result in poisoning by +small doses--gave a residue which was submitted to the Marsh +test. The tube showed a definite arsenic ring. Tests on the +vomit gave the same result. + +The poisoning of Perrotte Mace had also been accomplished by +small doses. Arsenic was found after the strictest tests, which +obviated all possibility that the substance could have come from +the ground in which the body was interred. + +In the case of Rose Tessier the tests yielded a huge amount of +arsenic. Rose had died after an illness of only four days. The +large amount of arsenic indicated a brutal and violent poisoning, +in which the substance could not be excreted in the usual way. + +The President then addressed the accused on this evidence. She +alone had watched near all three of the victims, and against all +three she had motives of hate. Poisoning was established beyond +all doubt. Who was the poisoner if not she, Helene Jegado? + +Helene: ``Frankly, I have nothing to reproach myself with. I +gave them only what came from the pharmacies on the orders of the +doctors.'' + +After evidence of Helene's physical condition, by a doctor who +had seen her in prison (she had a scirrhous tumour on her left +breast), the speech for the defence was made. + +M. Dorange was very eloquent, but he had a hopeless case. The +defence he put up was that Helene was irresponsible, but the +major part of the advocate's speech was taken up with a +denouncement of capital punishment. It was a barbarous +anachronism, a survival which disgraced civilization. + +The President summed up and addressed the jury: + +``Cast a final scrutiny, gentlemen of the jury,'' he said, ``at +the matter brought out by these debates. Consult yourselves in +the calm and stillness of your souls. If it is not proved to you +that Helene Jegado is responsible for her actions you will acquit +her. If you think that, without being devoid of free will and +moral sense, she is not, according to the evidence, as well +gifted as the average in humanity, you will give her the benefit +of extenuating circumstance. + +``But if you consider her culpable, if you cannot see in her +either debility of spirit or an absence or feebleness of moral +sense, you will do your duty with firmness. You will remember +that for justice to be done chastisement will not alone suffice, +but that punishment must be in proportion to the offence.'' + +The President then read over his questions for the jury, and that +body retired. After deliberations which occupied an hour and a +half the jury came back with a verdict of guilty on all points. +The Procureur asked for the penalty of death. + + +THE PRESIDENT. Helene Jegado, have you anything to say upon the +application of the penalty? + +HELENE. No, Monsieur le President, I am innocent. I am resigned +to everything. I would rather die innocent than live in guilt. +You have judged me, but God will judge you all. He will see then +. . . Monsieur Bidard. All those false witnesses who have come +here to destroy me . . . they will see. . . . + +In a voice charged with emotion the President pronounced the +sentence condemning Helene Jegado to death. + +An appeal was put forward on her behalf, but was rejected. + +On the scaffold, a few moments before she passed into eternity, +having no witness but the recorder and the executioner, faithful +to the habits of her life, Helene Jegado accused a woman not +named in any of the processes of having urged her to her first +crimes and of being her accomplice. The two officials took no +notice of this indirect confession of her own guilt, and the +sentence was carried out. The Procureur of Rennes, hearing of +this confession, took the trouble to search out the woman named +in it. She turned out to be a very old woman of such a pious and +kindly nature that the people about her talked of her as the +``saint.'' + +It were superfluous to embark on analysis of the character of +Helene Jegado. Earlier on, in comparing her with Van der Linden +and the Zwanziger woman, I have lessened her caliginosity as +compared with that of the Leyden poisoner, giving her credit for +one less death than her Dutch sister in crime. Having +investigated Helene's activities rather more closely, however, I +find I have made mention of no less than twenty-eight deaths +attributed to Helene, which puts her one up on the Dutchwoman. +The only possible point at which I may have gone astray in my +calculations is in respect of the deaths at Guern. The accounts +I have of Helene's bag there insist on seven, but enumerate only +six--namely, her sister Anna, the cure, his father and mother, +and two more (unnamed) after these. The accounts, nevertheless, +insist more than once that between 1833 and 1841 Helene put away +twenty-three persons. If she managed only six at Guern, that +total should be twenty-two. From 1849 she accounted for Albert +Rabot, the infant Ozanne, Perrotte Mace, Rose Tessier, and +Rosalie Sarrazin--five. We need no chartered accountant to +certify our figures if we make the total twenty-eight. Give her +the benefit of the doubt in the case of Albert Rabot, who was ill +anyhow when Helene joined the household, and she still ties with +Van der Linden with twenty-seven deaths. + +There is much concerning Helene Jegado, recorded incidents, that +I might have introduced into my account of her activities, and +that might have emphasized the outstanding feature of her dingy +make-up--that is, her hypocrisy. When Rosalie Sarrazin was +fighting for her life, bewailing the fact that she was dying at +the age of nineteen, Helene Jegado took a crucifix and made the +girl kiss it, saying to her, ``Here is the Saviour Who died for +you! Commend your soul to Him!'' This, with the canting piety +of the various answers which she gave in court (and which, let me +say, I have transcribed with some reluctance), puts Helene Jegado +almost on a level with the sanctimonious Dr Pritchard--perhaps +quite on a level with that nauseating villain. + +With her twenty-three murders all done without motive, and the +five others done for spite--with her twenty-eight murders, only +five of which were calculated to bring advantage, and that of the +smallest value--it is hard to avoid the conclusion that Helene +Jegado was mad. In spite, however, of evidence called in her +defence--as, for example, that of Dr Pitois, of Rennes, who was +Helene's own doctor, and who said that ``the woman had a bizarre +character, frequently complaining of stomach pains and +formications in the head''--in spite of this doctor's hints of +monomania in the accused, the jury, with every chance allowed +them to find her irresponsible, still saw nothing in her +extenuation. And very properly, since the law held the extreme +penalty for such as she, Helene went to the scaffold. Her judges +might have taken the sentimental view that she was abnormal, +though not mad in the common acceptation of the word. Appalled +by the secret menace to human life that she had been scared to +think of the ease and the safety in which she had been allowed +over twenty odd years to carry agonizing death to so many of her +kind, and convinced from the inhuman nature of her practices that +she was a lusus naturae, her judges, following sentimental +Anglo-Saxon example, might have given her asylum and let her live +for years at public expense. But possibly they saw no social or +Civic advantage in preserving her, so anti-social as she was. +They are a frugal nation, the French. + + + +% VI + +Having made you sup on horror a la Bretonne, or Continental +fashion, I am now to give you a savoury from England. This lest +you imagine that France, or the Continent, has a monopoly in +wholesale poison. Let me introduce you, as promised earlier, to +Mary Ann Cotton aged forty-one, found guilty of and sentenced to +death for the murder of a child, Charles Edward Cotton, by giving +him arsenic. + +Rainton, in Durham, was the place where, in 1832 Mary Ann found +mortal existence. At the age of fifteen or sixteen she began to +earn her own living as a nursemaid, an occupation which may +appear to have given her a distaste for infantile society. At +the age of nineteen and at Newcastle she married William Mowbray, +a collier, and went with him to live in Cornwall. Here the +couple remained for some years. + +It was a fruitful marriage. Mary bore William five children in +Cornwall, but, unfortunately, four of the children +died--suddenly. With the remaining child the pair moved to +Mary's native county. They had hardly settled down in their new +home when the fifth child also died. It died, curiously enough, +of the ailment which had supposedly carried off the other four +children--gastric fever. + +Not long after the death of this daughter the Mowbrays removed to +Hendon, Sunderland, and here a sixth child was born. It proved +to be of as vulnerable a constitution as its brothers and +sisters, for it lasted merely a year. Four months later, while +suffering from an injured foot, which kept him at home, William +Mowbray fell ill, and died with a suddenness comparable to that +which had characterized the deaths of his progeny. His widow +found a job at the local infirmary, and there she met George +Ward. She married Mr Ward, but not for long. In a few months +after the nuptials George Ward followed his predecessor, Mowbray, +from an illness that in symptoms and speed of fatality closely +resembled William's. + +We next hear of Mary as housekeeper to a widower named Robinson, +whose wife she soon became. Robinson had five children by his +former wife. They all died in the year that followed his +marriage with Mary Ann, and all of `gastric fever.' + +The second Mrs Robinson had two children by this third husband. +Both of these perished within a few weeks of their birth. + +Mary Ann's mother fell ill, though not seriously. Mary Ann +volunteered to nurse the old lady. It must now be evident that +Mary Ann was a `carrier' of an obscure sort of intestinal fever, +because soon after her appearance in her mother's place the old +lady died of that complaint. + +On her return to her own home, or soon after it, Mary was accused +by her husband of robbing him. She thought it wise to disappear +out of Robinson's life, a deprivation which probably served to +prolong it. + +Under her old name of Mowbray, and by means of testimonials which +on later investigation proved spurious, Mary Ann got herself a +housekeeping job with a doctor in practice at Spennymore. +Falling into error regarding what was the doctor's and what was +her own, and her errors being too patent, she was dismissed. + +Wallbottle is the scene of Mary Ann's next activities. Here she +made the acquaintance of a married man with a sick wife. His +name was Frederick Cotton. Soon after he had met Mary Ann his +wife died. She died of consumption, with no more trace of +gastric fever than is usual in her disease. But two of Cotton's +children died of intestinal inflammation not long after their +mother, and their aunt, Cotton's sister, who kept house for him, +was not long in her turn to sicken and die in a like manner. + +The marriage which Mary Ann brought off with Frederick Cotton at +Newcastle anticipated the birth of a son by a mere three months. +With two of Cotton's children by his former marriage, and with +the infant son, the pair went to live at West Auckland. Here +Cotton died--and the three children--and a lodger by the curious +name of Natrass. + +Altogether Mary Ann, in the twenty years during which she had +been moving in Cornwall and about the northeastern counties, had, +as it ultimately transpired, done away with twenty-four persons. +Nine of these were the fruit of her own loins. One of them was +the mother who gave her birth. Retribution fell upon her through +her twenty-fourth victim, Charles Edward Cotton, her infant +child. His death created suspicion. The child, it was shown, +was an obstacle to the marriage which she was already +contemplating--her fifth marriage, and, most likely, bigamous at +that. The doctor who had attended the child refused a death +certificate. In post-mortem examination arsenic was found in the +child's body. Cotton was arrested. + +She was brought to trial in the early part of 1873 at Durham +Assizes. As said already, she was found guilty and sentenced to +death, the sentence being executed upon her in Durham Gaol in +March of that year. Before she died she made the following +remarkable statement: ``I have been a poisoner, but not +intentionally.'' + +It is believed that she secured the poison from a vermicide in +which arsenic was mixed with soft soap. One finds it hard to +believe that she extracted the arsenic from the preparation (as +she must have done before administering it, or otherwise it must +have been its own emetic) unintentionally. + +What advantage Mary Ann Cotton derived from her poisonings can +have been but small, almost as small as that gained by Helene +Jegado. Was it for social advancement that she murdered husbands +and children? Was she a `climber' in that sphere of society in +which she moved? One hesitates to think that passion swayed her +in being rid of the infant obstacle to the fifth marriage of her +contemplation. With her ``all o'er-teeming loins,'' this woman, +Hecuba in no other particular, must have been a very sow were +this her motive. + +But I have come almost by accident on the word I need to compare +Mary Ann Cotton with Jegado. The Bretonne, creeping about her +native province leaving death in her track, with her piety, her +hypocrisy, her enjoyment of her own cruelty, is sinister and +repellent. But Mary Ann, moving from mate to mate and farrowing +from each, then savaging both them and the litter, has a musty +sowishness that the Bretonne misses. Both foul, yes. But we +needn't, we islanders, do any Jingo business in setting Mary Ann +against Helene. + + + + +VII: THE MERRY WIDOWS + +Twenty years separate the cases of these two women, the length of +France lies between the scenes in which they are placed: Mme +Boursier, Paris, 1823; Mme Lacoste, Riguepeu, a small town in +Gascony, 1844. I tie their cases together for reasons which +cannot be apparent until both their stories are told--and which +may not be so apparent even then. That is not to say I claim +those reasons to be profound, recondite, or settled in the deeps +of psychology. The matter is, I would not have you believe that +I join their cases because of similarities that are superficial. +My hope is that you will find, as I do, a linking which, while +neither profound nor superficial, is curious at least. As I +cannot see that the one case transcends the other in drama or +interest, I take them chronologically, and begin with the Veuve +Boursier: + +At the corner of Rue de la Paix and Rue Neuve Saint-Augustine in +1823 there stood a boutique d'epiceries. It was a flourishing +establishment, typical of the Paris of that time, and its +proprietors were people of decent standing among their +neighbours. More than the prosperous condition of their +business, which was said to yield a profit of over 11,000 francs +per annum, it was the happy and cheerful relationship existing +between les epoux Boursier that made them of such good +consideration in the district. The pair had been married for +thirteen years, and their union had been blessed by five +children. + +Boursier, a middle-aged man of average height, but very stout of +build and asthmatically short of neck, was recognized as a keen +trader. He did most of his trading away from the house in the +Rue de la Paix, and paid frequent visits, sometimes entire months +in duration, to Le Havre and Bordeaux. It is nowhere suggested +that those visits were made on any occasion other than that +of business. M. Boursier spent his days away from the house, and +his evenings with friends. + +It does not anywhere appear that Mme Boursier objected to her +husband's absenteeism. She was a capable woman, rather younger +than her husband, and of somewhat better birth and education. +She seems to have been content with, if she did not exclusively +enjoy, having full charge of the business in the shop. Dark, +white of tooth, not particularly pretty, this woman of thirty-six +was, for her size, almost as stout as her husband. It is said +that her manner was a trifle imperious, but that no doubt +resulted from knowledge of her own capability, proved by the +successful way in which she handled her business and family +responsibilities. + +The household, apart from Mme and M. Boursier, and counting those +employed in the epicerie, consisted of the five children, Mme +Boursier's aunt (the Veuve Flamand), two porters (Delonges and +Beranger), Mlle Reine (the clerk), Halbout (the book-keeper), and +the cook (Josephine Blin). + +On the morning of the 28th of June, which would be a Sunday, +Boursier was called by the cook to take his usual dejeuner, +consisting of chicken broth with rice. He did not like the taste +of it, but ate it. Within a little time he was violently sick, +and became so ill that he had to go to bed. The doctor, who was +called almost immediately, saw no cause for alarm, but prescribed +mild remedies. As the day went on, however, the sickness +increased in violence. Dr Bordot became anxious when he saw the +patient again in the evening. He applied leeches and mustard +poultices. Those ministrations failing to alleviate the +sufferings ofthe invalid, Dr Bordot brought a colleague into +consultation, but neither the new-comer, Dr Partra, nor +himself could be positive in diagnosis. Something gastric, it +was evident. They did what they could, though working, as it +were, in the dark. + +The patient was no better next day. As night came on he was +worse than ever. A medical student named Toupie was enlisted as +nurse and watcher, and sat with the sufferer through the +night--but to no purpose. At four o'clock in the morning of the +Tuesday, the 30th, there came a crisis in the illness of +Boursier, and he died. + +The grief exhibited by Mme Boursier, so suddenly widowed, was +just what might have been expected in the circumstances from a +woman of her station. She had lost a good-humoured companion, +the father of her five children, and the man whose genius in +trading had done so much to support her own activities for their +mutual profit. The Veuve Boursier grieved in adequate fashion +for the loss of her husband, but, being a capable woman and +responsible for the direction of affairs, did not allow her grief +to overwhelm her. The dead epicier was buried without much +delay--the weather was hot, and he had been of gross habit--and +the business at the corner of Rue de la Paix went on as near to +usual as the loss of the `outside' partner would allow. + +Rumour, meantime, had got to work. There were circumstances +about the sudden death of Boursier which the busybodies of the +environs felt they might regard as suspicious. For some time +before the death of the epicier there had been hanging about the +establishment a Greek called Kostolo. He was a manservant out of +employ, and not, even on the surface, quite the sort of fellow +that a respectable couple like the Boursiers might be expected to +accept as a family friend. But such, no less, had been the +Greek's position with the household. So much so that, although +Kostolo had no money and apparently no prospects, Boursier +himself had asked him to be godfather to a niece. The epicier +found the Greek amusing, and, on falling so suddenly ill, made no +objection when Kostolo took it on himself to act as nurse, and to +help in the preparing of drinks and medicines that were prescribed. + +It is perhaps to the rather loud-mouthed habits of this Kostolo +that the birth of suspicion among the neighbours may be +attributed. On the death of Boursier he had remarked that the +nails of the corpse were blue a colour, he said, which was almost +a certain indication of poisoning. Now, the two doctors who had +attended Boursier, having failed to account for his illness, were +inclined to suspect poisoning as the cause of his death. For +this reason they had suggested an autopsy, a suggestion rejected +by the widow. Her rejection of the idea aroused no immediate +suspicion of her in the minds of the doctors. + +Kostolo, in addition to repeating outside the house his opinion +regarding the blueness of the dead Boursier's nails, began, +several days after the funeral, to brag to neighbours and friends +of the warm relationship existing between himself and the widow. +He dropped hints of a projected marriage. Upon this the +neighbours took to remembering how quickly Kostolo's friendship +with the Boursier family had sprung up, and how frequently he had +visited the establishment. His nursing activities were +remembered also. And it was noticed that his visits to the +Boursier house still went on; it was whispered that he visited +the Veuve Boursier in her bedroom. + +The circumstances in which Boursier had fallen ill were well +known. Nobody, least of all Mme Boursier or Kostolo, had taken +any trouble to conceal them. Anybody who liked to ask either Mme +Boursier or the Greek about the soup could have a detailed story +at once. All the neighbourhood knew it. And since the Veuve +Boursier's story is substantially the same as other versions it may +as well be dealt with here and now. + +M. Boursier, said his widow, tasted his soup that Sunday morning. +``What a taste!'' he said to the cook, Josephine. ``This rice is +poisoned.'' ``But, monsieur,'' Josephine protested, ``that's +amazing! The potage ought to be better than usual this morning, +because I made a liaison for it with three egg-yolks!'' + +M. Boursier called his wife, and told her he couldn't eat his +potage au riz. It was poisoned. Mme Boursier took a spoonful of +it herself, she said, and saw nothing the matter with it. +Whereupon her husband, saying that if it was all right he ought +to eat it, took several spoonfuls more. + +``The poor man,'' said his widow, ``always had a bad taste in his +mouth, and he could not face his soup.'' Then, she explained, he +became very sick, and brought up what little of the soup he had +taken, together with flots de bile. + +All this chatter of poison, particularly by Kostolo and the +widow, together with the persistent rumours of an adulterous +association between the pair, gave colour to suspicions of a +criminal complicity, and these in process of time came to the +ears of the officers of justice. The two doctors were summoned +by the Procureur-General, who questioned them closely regarding +Boursier's illness. To the mind of the official everything +pointed to suspicion of the widow. Word of the growing suspicion +against her reached Mme Boursier, and she now hastened to ask the +magistrates for an exhumation and a post-mortem examination. +This did not avert proceedings by the Procureur. It was already +known that she had refused the autopsy suggested by the two +doctors, and it was stated that she had hurried on the burial. + +Kostolo and the Widow Boursier were called before the Juge +d'instruction. + + + +% II + +There is about the Greek Kostolo so much gaudy impudence and +barefaced roguery that, in spite of the fact that the main +concern of these pages is with women, I am constrained to add his +portrait to the sketches I have made in illustration. He is of +the gallery in which are Jingle and Montague Tigg, with this +difference--that he is rather more sordid than either. + +Brought before the Procureur du Roi, he impudently confessed that +he had been, and still was, Mme Boursier's lover. He told the +judge that in the lifetime of her husband Mme Boursier had +visited him in his rooms several times, and that she had given +him money unknown to her husband. + +Mme Boursier at first denied the adulterous intimacy with +Kostolo, but the evidence in the hands of the Procureur was too +much for her. She had partially to confess the truth of +Kostolo's statement in this regard. She emphatically denied, +however, that she had ever even thought of, let alone agreed to, +marriage with the Greek. She swore that she had been intimate +with Kostolo only once, and that, as far as giving him money was +concerned, she had advanced him but one small sum on his IOU. + +These confessions, together with the information which had come +to him from other investigations, served to increase the feeling +of the Procureur that Boursier's death called for probing. He +issued an exhumation order, and on the 31st of July an autopsy on +the body of Boursier was carried out by MM. Orfila and Gardy, +doctors and professors of the Paris faculty of medicine. Their +finding was that no trace existed of any disorders to which the +death of Boursier might be attributed--such, for example, as +cerebral congestion, rupture of the heart or of a larger +vessel--but that, on the other hand, they had come upon a +sufficiency of arsenic in the intestines to have caused death. + +On the 2nd of August the same two professors, aided by a third, +M. Barruel, carried out a further examination of the body. Their +testimony is highly technical. It is also rather revolting. I +am conscious that, dealing, as I have had to, with so much +arsenical poisoning (the favourite weapon of the woman murderer), +a gastric odour has been unavoidable in many of my pages--perhaps +too many. For that reason I shall refrain from quoting either in +the original French or in translation more than a small part of +the professors' report. I shall, however, make a lay shot on the +evidence it supplies. Boursier's interior generally was in foul +condition, which is not to be explained by any ingestion of +arsenic, but which suggests chronic and morbid pituitousness. +The marvel is that the man's digestion functioned at all. This +insanitary condition, however, was taken by the professors, as it +were, in their stride. They concentrated on some slight traces +of intestinal inflammation. + +`` One observed,'' their report went on, + +about the end of the ileum some grains of a whitish appearance +and rather stubbornly attached. These grains, being removed, +showed all the characteristics of white arsenic oxide. Put upon +glowing charcoal they volatilized, giving off white smoke and a +garlic odour. Treated with water, they dissolved, and the +solution, when brought into contact with liquid hydrosulphuric +acid, precipitated yellow sulphur of arsenic, particularly when +one heated it and added a few drops of hydrochloric acid. + + +These facts (including, I suppose, the conditions I have hinted +at) allowed them to conclude (a) that the stomach showed +traces of inflammation, and (b) that the intestinal canal yielded +a quantity of arsenic oxide sufficient to have produced that +inflammation and to have caused death. + +The question now was forward as to where the arsenic found in the +body had come from. Inquiry established the fact that on the +15th of May, 1823--that is to say, several weeks before his +death--Boursier had bought half a pound of arsenic for the +purpose of destroying the rats in his shop cellars. In addition, +he had bought prepared rat-poison. Only a part of those +substances had been used. The remaining portions could not be +found about the shop, nor could Mme Boursier make any suggestions +for helping the search. She declared she had never seen any +arsenic about the house at all. + +There was, however, sufficient gravity in the evidences on hand +to justify a definite indictment of Mme Boursier and Nicolas +Kostolo, the first of having poisoned her husband, and the second +of being accessory to the deed. + +The pair were brought to trial on the 27th of November, 1823, +before the Seine Assize Court, M. Hardouin presiding. The +prosecution was conducted by the AvocatGeneral, M. de Broe. +Maitre Couture defended Mme Boursier. Maitre Theo. Perrin +appeared for Kostolo. + +The case created great excitement, not only in Paris, but +throughout the country. Another poisoning case had not long +before this occupied the minds of the public very greatly--that +of the hypocritical Castaing for the murder of Auguste Ballet. +Indeed, there had been a lot of poisoning going on in French +society about this period. Political and religious controversy, +moreover, was rife. The populace were in a mood either to praise +extravagantly or just as extravagantly to condemn. It happened +that rumour convinced them of the guilt of the Veuve Boursier +and Kostolo, and the couple were condemned in advance. Such +was the popular spite against Mme Boursier and Kostolo that, it +is said, Maitre Couture at first refused the brief for the +widow's defence. He had already made a success of his defence of +a Mme Lavaillaut, accused of poisoning, and was much in demand in +cases where women sought judicial separation from their husbands. +People were calling him ``Providence for women.'' He did not +want to be nicknamed ``Providence for poisoners.'' But Mme +Boursier's case being more clearly presented to him he took up +the brief. + +The accused were brought into court. + +Kostolo was about thirty years of age. He was tall, distinctly +good-looking in an exotic sort of way, with his dark hair, +complexion, and flashing eyes. He carried himself grandly, and +was elegandy clad in a frac noir. Not quite, as Army men were +supposed once to say, ``the clean potato, it was easy enough to +see that women of a kind would be his ready victims. It was +plain, in the court, that Master Nicolas thought himself the hero +of the occasion. + +There was none of this flamboyance about the Widow Boursier. She +was dressed in complete mourning, and covered her face with a +handkerchief. It was manifest that, in the phrase of the crime +reporters, ``she felt her position keenly.'' The usual questions +as to her name and condition she answered almost inaudibly, her +voice choked with sobs. + +Kostolo, on the contrary, replied in organ tones. He said that +he was born in Constantinople, and that he had no estate. + +The acte d'accusation was read. It set forth the facts of the +adulterous association of the two accused, of the money lent by +Mme Boursier to Kostolo, of their meetings, and all the +suspicious circumstances previous to the death of the epicier. + +The cook-girl, Josephine Blin, had prepared the potage au riz in +the kitchen, using the small iron pan that it was her wont to +employ. Having made the soup, she conveyed it in its terrine to +a small secretaire in the dining-room. This secretaire stood +within the stretch of an arm from the door of the comptoir in +which Mme Boursier usually worked. According to custom, +Josephine had divided the potage in two portions--one for +Boursier and the other for the youngest child. The youngster and +she had eaten the second portion between them, and neither had +experienced any ill-effects. + +Josephine told her master that the soup was ready. He came at +her call, but did not eat the soup at once, being otherwise +occupied. The soup stood on the secretaire for about fifteen +minutes before Boursier started to eat it. + +According to the accused, the accusation went on, after +Boursier's death the two doctors asked that they might be allowed +to perform an autopsy, since they were at a loss to explain the +sudden illness. This Mme Boursier refused, in spite of the +insistence of the doctors. She refused, she said, in the +interest of her children. She insisted, indeed, on a quick +burial, maintaining that, as her husband had been tres replet, +the body would rapidly putrefy, owing to the prevailing heat, and +that thus harm would be done to the delicate contents of the +epicerie. + +Led by rumours of the bluish stains--almost certain indications +of a violent death--the authorities, said the accusation, ordered +an exhumation and autopsy. Arsenic was found in the body. It +was clear that Boursier, ignorant, as he was, of his wife's bad +conduct, had not killed himself. This was a point that the widow +had vainly attempted, during the process of instruction, to +maintain. She declared that one Clap, a friend of her late +husband, had come to her one day to say that a certain Charles, a +manservant, had remarked to him, ``Boursier poisoned himself +because he was tired of living.'' Called before the Juge +d'instruction, Henri Clap and Charles had concurred in denying +this. + +The accusation maintained that the whole attitude of Mme Boursier +proved her a poisoner. As soon as her husband became sick she +had taken the dish containing the remains of the rice soup, +emptied it into a dirty vessel, and passed water through the +dish. Then she had ordered Blin to clean it, which the latter +did, scrubbing it out with sand and ashes. + +Questioned about arsenic in the house, Mme Boursier said, to +begin with, that Boursier had never spoken to her about arsenic, +but later admitted that her husband had mentioned both arsenic +and mort aux rats to her. + +Asked regarding the people who frequented the house she had +mentioned all the friends of Boursier, but neglected to speak of +Kostolo. Later she had said she never had been intimate with the +Greek. But Kostolo, `` barefaced enough for anything,'' had +openly declared the nature of his relations with her. Then Mme +Boursier, after maintaining that she had been no more than +interested in Kostolo, finding pleasure in his company, had been +constrained to confess that she had misconducted herself with the +Greek in the dead man's room. She had given Kostolo the run of +her purse, the accusation declared, though she denied the fact, +insisting that what she had given him had been against his note. +There was only one conclusion, however. Mme Boursier, knowing +the poverty of her paramour, had paid him as her cicisbeo, +squandering upon him her children's patrimony. + +The accusation then dealt with the supposed project of marriage, +and declared that in it there was sufficient motive for the +crime. Kostolo was Mme Boursier's accomplice beyond any doubt. +He had acted as nurse to the invalid, administering drinks and +medicines to him. He had had full opportunity for poisoning the +grocer. Penniless, out of work, it would be a good thing for him +if Boursier was eliminated. He had been blatant in his visits to +Mme Boursier after the death of the husband. + +Then followed the first questioning of the accused. + +Mme Boursier said she had kept tryst with Kostolo in the +Champs-Elysees. She admitted having been to his lodgings once. +On the mention of the name of Mlle Riene, a mistress of +Kostolo's, she said that the woman was partly in their +confidence. She had gone with Mlle Riene twice to Kostolo's +rooms. Once, she admitted, she had paid a visit to Versailles +with Kostolo unknown to her husband. + +Asked if her husband had had any enemies, Mme Boursier said she +knew of none. + +The questioning of Kostolo drew from him the admission that he +had had a number of mistresses all at one time. He made no bones +about his relations with them, nor about his relations with Mme +Boursier. He was quite blatant about it, and seemed to enjoy the +show he was putting up. Having airily answered a question in a +way that left him without any reputation, he would sweep the +court with his eyes, preening himself like a peacock. + +He was asked about a journey Boursier had proposed making. At +what time had Boursier intended making the trip? + +``Before his death,'' Kostolo replied. + +The answer was unintentionally funny, but the Greek took credit +for the amusement it created in court. He conceived himself +a humorist, and the fact coloured all his subsequent answers. + +Kostolo said that he had called to see Boursier on the first day +of his illness at three in the afternoon. He himself had +insisted on helping to nurse the invalid. Mme Boursier had +brought water, and he had given it to the sick man. + +After Boursier's death he had remarked on the blueness of the +fingernails. It was a condition he had seen before in his own +country, on the body of a prince who had died of poison, and the +symptoms of whose illness had been very like those in Boursier's. +He had then suspected that Boursier had died of poisoning. + +The loud murmurs that arose in court upon his blunt confession of +having misconducted himself with Mme Boursier fifteen days after +her husband's death seemed to evoke nothing but surprise in +Kostolo. He was then asked if he had proposed marriage to Mme +Boursier after Boursier's death. + +``What!'' he exclaimed, with a grin. ``Ask a woman with five +children to marry me--a woman I don't love?'' + +Upon this answer Kostolo was taken to task by the President of +the court. M. Hardouin pointed out that Kostolo lived with a +woman who kept and fed him, giving him money, but that at the +same time he was taking money from Mme Boursier as her lover, +protesting the while that he loved her. What could the Greek say +in justification of such conduct? + +``Excuse me, please, everybody,'' Kostolo replied, unabashed. +``I don't know quite how to express myself, but surely what I +have done is quite the common thing? I had no means of living +but from what Mme Boursier gave me.'' + +The murmurs evoked by the reply Kostolo treated with lofty +disdain. He seemed to find his audience somewhat prudish. + +To further questioning he answered that he had never proposed +marriage to the Veuve Boursier. Possibly something might have +been said in fun. He knew, of course, that the late Boursier had +made a lot of money. + +The cook, Josephine Blin, was called. At one time she had been +suspect. Her version of the potage incidents, though generally +in agreement with that of the accused widow, differed from it in +two essential points. When she took Boursier's soup into the +dining-room, she said, Mme Boursier was in the comptoir, three or +four paces away from the desk on which she put the terrine. This +Mme Boursier denied. She said she had been in the same comptoir +as her husband. Josephine declared that Mme Boursier had ordered +her to clean the soup-dish out with sand, but her mistress +maintained she had bade the girl do no more than clean it. For +the rest, Josephine thought about fifteen minutes elapsed before +Boursier came to take the soup. During that time she had seen +Mme Boursier writing and making up accounts. + +Toupie, the medical student, said he had nursed Boursier during +the previous year. Boursier was then suffering much in the same +way as he had appeared to suffer during his fatal illness. He +had heard Mme Boursier consulting with friends about an autopsy, +and her refusal had been on their advice. + +The doctors called were far from agreeing on the value of the +experiments they had made. Orfila, afterwards to intervene in +the much more universally notorious case of Mme Lafarge, stuck to +his opinion of death by arsenic. If his evidence in the Lafarge +case is read it will be seen that in the twenty years that had +passed from the Boursier trial his notions regarding the proper +routine of analysis for arsenic in a supposedly poisoned body had +undergone quite a change. But by then the Marsh technique had +been evolved. Here, however, he based his opinion on experiments +properly described as ``very equivocal;'' and stuck to it. He +was supported by a colleague named Lesieur. + +M. Gardy said he had observed that the greater part of the grains +about the ileum, noted on the 1st of August, had disappeared next +day. The analysis had been made with quantities too small. He +now doubted greatly if the substance taken to be arsenic oxide +would account for death. + +M. Barruel declared that from the glareous matter removed from +the body only a grain of the supposed arsenic had been extracted, +and that with difficulty. He had put the substance on glowing +charcoal, but, in his opinion, the experiment was VERY EQUIVOCAL. +It was at first believed that there was a big amount of arsenic, +but he felt impelled to say that the substance noted was nothing +other than small clusters of fat. The witness now refused to +conclude, as he had concluded on the 1st of August, that enough +poison had been in the body to cause death. + +It would almost seem that the medical evidence should have been +enough to destroy the case for the prosecution, but other +witnesses were called. + +Bailli, at one time a clerk to Boursier, said he had helped his +patron to distribute arsenic and rat-poison in the shop cellars. +He was well aware that the whole of the poison had not been used, +but in the course of his interrogation he had failed to remember +where the residue of the poisons had been put. He now +recollected. The unused portion of the arsenic had been put in a +niche of a bottle-rack. + +In view of evidence given by a subsequent witness Bailli's rather +sudden recovery of memory might have been thought odd if a friend +of his had not been able to corroborate his statement. The +friend was one Rousselot, another grocer. He testified that he +and Bailli had searched together. Bailli had then cudgelled that +dull ass, his brain, to some effect, for they had ultimately come +upon the residue of the arsenic bought by Boursier lying with the +remainder of the mort aux rats. Both the poisons had been placed +at the bottom of a bottle-rack, and a plank had been nailed over +them. + +Rousselot, asked why he had not mentioned this fact before, +answered stupidly, ``I thought you knew it!'' + +The subsequent witness above referred to was an employee in the +Ministere du Roi, a man named Donzelle. In a stammering and +rather confused fashion he attempted to explain that the +vacillations of the witness Bailli had aroused his suspicions. +He said that Bailli, who at first had been vociferous in his +condemnation of the Widow Boursier, had later been rather more +vociferous in her defence. The witness (Donzelle) had it from a +third party that Mme Boursier's sister-in-law had corrupted other +witnesses with gifts of money. Bailli, for example, could have +been seen carrying bags of ecus under his arm, coming out of the +house of the advocate briefed to defend Mme Boursier. + +Bailli, recalled, offered to prove that if he had been to Maitre +Couture's house he had come out of it in the same fashion as he +had gone in--that was, with a bag of bay salt under each arm. + +Maitre Couture, highly indignant, rose to protest against the +insinuation of the witness Donzelle, but the President of the +court and the Avocat-General hastened to say that the eminent and +honourable advocate was at no need to justify himself. The +President sternly reprimanded Donzelle and sent him back to his +seat. + + + +% III + +The Avocat-General, M. de Broe, stated the case for the +prosecution. He made, as probably was his duty, as much as he +could of the arsenic said to have been found in the body (that +precipitated as yellow sulphur of arsenic), and of the adultery +of Mme Boursier with Kostolo. He dwelt on the cleaning of the +soup-dish, and pointed out that while the soup stood on the desk +Mme Boursier had been here and there near it, never out of arm's +reach. In regard to Kostolo, the Greek was a low scallywag, but +not culpable. + +The prosecution, you observe, rested on the poison's being +administered in the soup. + +In his speech for the defence the eloquent Maitre Couture began +by condemning the gossip and the popular rumour on which the case +had been begun. He denounced the action of the magistrates in +instituting proceedings as deplorably unconsidered and hasty. + +Mme Boursier, he pointed out, had everything to lose through the +loss of her husband. Why should she murder a fine merchant like +Boursier for a doubtful quantity like Kostolo? He spoke of the +happy relationship that had existed between husband and wife, +and, in proof of their kindness for each other, told of a comedy +interlude which had taken place on the Sunday morning. + +Boursier, he said, had to get up before his wife that morning, +rising at six o'clock. His rising did not wake his wife, and, +perhaps humorously resenting her lazy torpor, he found a piece of +charcoal and decorated her countenance with a black moustache. +It was true that Mme Boursier showed some petulance over her +husband's prank when she got down at eight o'clock, but her +ill-humour did not last long. Her husband caressed and petted +her, and before long the wife joined her merry-minded husband in +laughing over the joke against her. That, said Maitre Couture, +that mutual laughter and kindness, seemed a strange preliminary +to the supposed poisoning episode of two hours or so later. + +The truth of the matter was that Boursier carried the germ of +death in his own body. What enemy had he made? What vengeance +had he incurred? Maitre Couture reminded the jury of Boursier's +poor physical condition, of his stoutness, of the shortness of +his neck. He brought forward Toupie's evidence of Boursier's +illness of the previous year, alike in symptoms and in the +sufferings of the invalid to that which proved fatal on Tuesday +the 30th of June. Then Maitre Couture proceeded to tear the +medical evidence to pieces, and returned to the point that Mme +Boursier had been sleeping so profoundly, so serenely, on the +morning of her supposed contemplated murder that the prank played +on her by her intended victim had not disturbed her. + +The President's address then followed. The jury retired, and +returned with a verdict of ``Not guilty.'' + +On this M. Hardouin discharged the accused, improving the +occasion with a homily which, considering the ordeal that Mme +Boursier had had to endure through so many months, and that might +have been considered punishment enough, may be quoted merely as a +fine specimen of salting the wound: + +``Veuve Boursier,'' said he, ``you are about to recover that +liberty which suspicions of the gravest nature have caused you to +lose. The jury declares you not guilty of the crime imputed to +you. It is to be hoped that you will find a like absolution in +the court of your own conscience. But do not ever forget that +the cause of your unhappiness and of the dishonour which, it may +be, covers your name was the disorder of your ways and the +violation of the most sacred obligations. It is to be hoped that +your conduct to come may efface the shame of your conduct in the +past, and that repentance may restore the honour you have lost.'' + + + +% IV + +Now we come, as the gentleman with the crimson handkerchief coyly +showing between dress waistcoat and shirt might have said, waving +his pointer as the canvas of the diorama rumbled on its rollers, +to Riguepeu! + +Some twenty years have elapsed since the Veuve Boursier stumbled +from the stand of the accused in the Assize Court of the Seine, +acquitted of the poisoning of her grocer husband, but convicted +of a moral flaw which may (or may not) have rather diminished +thereafter the turnover of the epicerie in the Rue de la Paix. +One hopes that her punishment finished with her acquittal, and +that the mood of the mob, as apt as a flying straw to veer for a +zephyr as for a whirlwind, swung to her favour from mere +revulsion on her escape from the scaffold. The one thing is as +likely as the other. Didn't the heavy man of the fit-up show, +eighteen months after his conviction for rape (the lapse of time +being occupied in paying the penalty), return as an actor to the +scene of his delinquency to find himself, not, as he expected, +pelted with dead cats and decaying vegetables, but cheered to the +echo? So may it have been with the Veuve Boursier. + +Though in 1844, the year in which the poison trial at Auch was +opened, four years had passed since the conviction of Mme Lafarge +at Tulle, controversy on the latter case still was rife +throughout France. The two cases were linked, not only in the +minds of the lay public, but through close analogy in the idea of +lawyers and experts in medical jurisprudence. From her +prison cell Marie Lafarge watched the progress of the trial in +Gascony. And when its result was published one may be sure she +shed a tear or two. + +But to Riguepeu . . . + +You will not find it on anything but the biggest-scale maps. It +is an inconsiderable town a few miles from Vic-Fezensac, a town +not much bigger than itself and some twenty kilometres from Auch, +which is the capital of the department of Gers. You may take it +that Riguepeu lies in the heart of the Armagnac district. + +Some little distance from Riguepeu itself, on the top of a rise, +stood the Chateau Philibert, a one-floored house with red tiles +and green shutters. Not much of a chateau, it was also called +locally La Maison de Madame. It belonged in 1843 to Henri +Lacoste, together with considerable land about it. It was +reckoned that Lacoste, with the land and other belongings, was +worth anything between 600,000 and 700,000 francs. + +Henri had become rich late in life. The house and the domain had +been left him by his brother Philibert, and another brother's +death had also been of some benefit to him. Becoming rich, Henri +Lacoste thought it his duty to marry, and in 1839, though already +sixty-six years of age, picked on a girl young enough to have +been his granddaughter. + +Euphemie Verges was, in fact, his grand-niece. She lived with +her parents at Mazeyrolles, a small village in the foothills of +the Pyrenees. Compared with Lacoste, the Verges were said to be +poor. Lacoste took it on himself to look after the girl's +education, having her sent at his charges to.a convent at Tarbes. +In 1841, on the 2nd of May, the marriage took place. + +If this marriage of youth with crabbed age resulted in any +unhappiness the neighbours saw little of it. Though it was +rumoured that for her old and rich husband Euphemie had given up +a young man of her fancy in Tarbes, her conduct during the two +years she lived with Lacoste seemed to be irreproachable. +Lacoste was rather a nasty old fellow from all accounts. He was +niggardly, coarse, and a womanizer. Euphemie's position in the +house was little better than that of head domestic servant, but +in this her lot was the common one for wives of her station in +this part of France. She appeared to be contented enough with +it. + +About two years after the marriage, on the 16th of May, 1843, to +be exact, after a trip with his wife to the fair at Riguepeu, old +Lacoste was taken suddenly ill, ultimately becoming violently +sick. Eight days later he died. + +By a will which Henri had made two months after his marriage his +wife was his sole beneficiary, and this will was no sooner proved +than the widow betook herself to Tarbes, where she speedily began +to make full use of her fortune. Milliners and dressmakers were +called into service, and the widow blossomed forth as a lady of +fashion. She next set up her own carriage. If these proceedings +had not been enough to excite envy among her female neighbours +the frequent visits paid to her in her genteel apartments by a +young man did the trick. The young man came on the scene less +than two months after the death of the old man. It was said that +his visits to the widow were prolonged until midnight. Scandal +resulted, and out of the scandal rumour regarding the death of +Henri Lacoste. It began to be said that the old man had died of +poison. + +It was in December, six months after the death of Lacoste, that +the rumours came to the ears of the magistrates. Nor was there +lack of anonymous letters. It was the Widow Lacoste herself, +however, who demanded an exhumation and autopsy on the body of her +late husband--this as a preliminary to suing her traducers. Note, +in passing, how her action matches that of Veuve Boursier. + +On the orders of the Juge d'instruction an autopsy was begun on +the 18th of December. The body of Lacoste was exhumed, the +internal organs were extracted, and these, with portions of the +muscular tissue, were submitted to analysis by a doctor of Auch, +M. Bouton, and two chemists of the same city, MM. Lidange and +Pons, who at the same time examined samples of the soil in which +the body had been interred. The finding was that the body of +Lacoste contained some arsenical preparation. + +The matter now appearing to be grave, additional scientific +assurance was sought. Three of the most distinguished chemists +in Paris were called into service for a further analysis. They +were MM. Devergie, Pelouze, and Flandin. Their report ran in +part: + + +The portion of the liver on which we have experimented proved to +contain a notable quantity of arsenic, amounting to more than +five milligrammes; the portions of the intestines and tissue +examined also contained appreciable traces which, though in +smaller proportion than contained by the liver, accord with the +known features of arsenical poisoning. There is no appearance of +the toxic element in the earth taken from the grave or in the +material of the coffin. + + +As soon as Mme Lacoste was apprised of the findings of the +autopsy she got into her carriage and was driven to Auch, where +she visited a friend of her late husband and of herself. To him +she announced her intention of surrendering herself to the +Procureur du Roi. The friend strongly advised her against +doing any such thing, advice which Mme Lacoste accepted with +reluctance. + +On the 5th of January a summons to appear was issued for Mme +Lacoste. She was seen that day in Auch, walking the streets on +the arm of a friend. She even went to the post-office, but the +police agents failed to find her. She stopped the night in the +town. Next day she was at Riguepeu. She was getting out of her +carriage when a servant pointed out gendarmes coming up the hill +with the Mayor. When those officials arrived Euphemie was well +away. Search was made through the house and outbuildings, but +without result. ``Don't bother yourself looking any further, +Monsieur le Maire,'' said one of the servants. ``The mistress +isn't far away, but she's in a place where I could hide a couple +of oxen without you finding them. + +From then on Mme Lacoste was hunted for everywhere. The roads to +Tarbes, Toulouse, and Vic-Fezensac were patrolled by brigades of +gendarmes day and night, but there was no sign of the fugitive. +It was rumoured that she had got away to Spain, that she was +cached in a barrel at Riguepeu, that she was in the fields +disguised as a shepherd, that she had taken the veil. + +In the meantime the process against her went forward. Evidence +was to hand which seemed to inculpate with Mme Lacoste a poor and +old schoolmaster of Riguepeu named Joseph Meilhan. The latter, +arrested, stoutly denied not only his own part in the supposed +crime, but also the guilt of Mme Lacoste. ``Why doesn't she come +forward?'' he asked. ``She knows perfectly well she has nothing +to fear--no more than I have.'' + +From the `information' laid by the court of first instance at +Auch a warrant was issued for the appearance of Mme Lacoste and +Meilhan before the Assize of Gers. Mme Lacoste was apparently well +instructed by her friends. She did not come into the open until +the last possible moment. She gave herself up at the Auch prison +on the 4th of July. + +Her health seemed to have suffered little from the vicissitudes +of her flight. It was noticed that her hair was short, a fact +which seemed to point to her having disguised herself. But, it +is said, she exhibited a serenity of mind which consorted ill +with the idea of guilt. She faced an interrogation lasting three +hours without faltering. + +On the 10th of July she appeared before the Gers Assize Court, +held at Auch. The President was M. Donnoderie. Counsel for the +prosecution, as it were, was the Procureur du Roi, M. Cassagnol. +Mme Lacoste was defended by Maitre Alem-Rousseau, leader of the +bar of Auch. + +The case aroused the liveliest interest, people flocking to the +town from as far away as Paris itself--so much so that at 6.30 in +the morning the one-time palace of the Archbishops of Auch, in +the hall of which the court was held, was packed. + +The accused were called. First to appear was Joseph Meilhan. He +was a stout little old boy of sixty-six, rosy and bright-eyed, +with short white hair and heavy black eyebrows. He was calm and +smiling, completely master of himself. + +Mme Lacoste then appeared on the arm of her advocate. She was +dressed in full widow's weeds. A little creature, slender but +not rounded of figure, she is described as more agreeable-looking +than actually pretty. + +After the accused had answered with their names and descriptions +the acte d'accusation was read. It was a long document. It +recalled the circumstances of the Lacoste marriage and of the +death of the old man, with the autopsy and the finding of traces +of arsenic. It spoke of the lowly household tasks that Mme +Lacoste had performed with such goodwill from the beginning, and +of the reward for her diligence which came to her by the making +of a holograph will in which her husband made her his sole heir. + +But the understanding between husband and wife did not last long, +the acte went on. Lacoste ardently desired a son and heir, and +his wife appeared to be barren. He confided his grief to an old +friend, one Lespere. Lespere pointed out that Euphemie was not +only Lacoste's wife, but his kinswoman as well. To this Lacoste +replied that the fact did not content him. ``I tell you on the +quiet,'' he said to his friend, ``I've made my arrangements. If +SHE knew--she's capable of poisoning me to get herself a younger +man.'' Lespere told him not to talk rubbish, in effect, but +Lacoste was stubborn on his notion. + +This was but a year after the marriage. It seemed that Lacoste +had a melancholy presentiment of the fate which was to be his. + +It was made out that Euphemie suffered from the avarice and +jealousy of her old husband. She was given no money, was hardly +allowed out of the house, and was not permitted even to go to +Vespers alone. And then, said the accusation, she discovered +that her husband wanted an heir. She had reason to fear that he +would go about getting one by an illicit association. + +In the middle of 1842 she overheard her husband bargaining with +one of the domestics. The girl was asking for 100 pistoles (say, +L85), while her husband did not want to give more than 600 francs +(say, L24). ``Euphemie Verges had no doubt,'' ran the +accusation, ``that this was the price of an adulterous contract, +and she insisted on Marie Dupuys' being sent from the house. +This was the cause of disagreement between the married pair, +which did not conclude with the departure of the servant.'' + +Later another servant, named Jacquette Larrieux, told Mme Lacoste +in confidence that the master was trying to seduce her by the +offer of a pension of 2000 francs or a lump sum of 20,000. + +Euphemie Verges, said the accusation, thus thought herself +exposed daily, by the infidelity of her husband, to the loss of +all her hopes. Also, talking to a Mme Bordes about the two +servants some days after Lacoste's death, she said, ``I had a bad +time with those two girls! If my husband had lived longer I +might have had nothing, because he wanted a child that he could +leave everything to.'' + +The acte d'accusation enlarged on the situation, then went on to +bring in Joseph Meilhan as Euphemie's accomplice. It made him +out to be a bad old man indeed. He had seduced, it was said, a +young girl named Lescure, who became enceinte, afterwards dying +from an abortion which Meilhan was accused of having procured. +It might be thought that the society of such a bad old man would +have disgusted a young woman, but Euphemie Verges admitted him to +intimacy. He was, it was said, the confidant for her domestic +troubles, and it was further rumoured that he acted as intermediary +in a secret correspondence that she kept up with a +young man of Tarbes who had been courting her before her +marriage. The counsels of such a man were not calculated to help +Mme Lacoste in her quarrels with her unfaithful and unlovable +husband. + +Meanwhile M. Lacoste was letting new complaints be heard +regarding his wife. Again Lespere was his confidant. His wife +was bad and sulky. He was very inclined to undo what he had done +for her. This was in March of 1843. + +Towards the end of April he made a like complaint to another old +friend, one Dupouy, who accused him of neglecting old friends +through uxoriousness. Lacoste said he found little pleasure +in his young wife. He was, on the contrary, a martyr. He was on +the point of disinheriting her. + +And so, with the usual amount of on dit and disait-on, the acte +d'accusation came to the point of Lacoste at the Riguepeu fair. +He set out in his usual health, but, several hours later, said to +one Laffon, ``I have the shivers, cramps in the stomach. After +being made to drink by that ---Meilhan I felt ill.'' + +Departing from the fair alone, he met up with Jean Durieux, to +whom he said, ``That ---of a Meilhan asked me to have a drink, and +afterwards I had colic, and wanted to vomit.'' + +Arrived home, Lacoste said to Pierre Cournet that he had been +seized by a colic which made him ill all over, plaguing him, +giving him a desire to vomit which he could not satisfy. Cournet +noticed that Lacoste was as white as a sheet. He advised going +to bed and taking hot water. Lacoste took the advice. During +the night he was copiously sick. The old man was in bed in an +alcove near the kitchen, but next night he was put into a room +out of the way of noise. + +Euphemie looked after her husband alone, preparing his drinks and +admitting nobody to see him. She let three days pass without +calling a doctor. Lacoste, it was true, had said he did not want +a doctor, but, said the accusation, ``there is no proof that he +persisted in that wish.'' + +On the fourth day she sent a summary of the illness to Dr Boubee, +asking for written advice. On the fifth day a surgeon was +called, M. Lasmolles, who was told that Lacoste had eaten a meal +of onions, garlic stems, and beans. But the story of this meal +was a lie, a premeditated lie. On the eve of the fair Mme +Lacoste was already speaking of such a meal, saying that that +sort of thing always made her husband ill. + +According to the accusation, the considerable amount of poison +found in the body established that the arsenic had been +administered on several occasions, on the first by Meilhan and on +the others by Mme Lacoste. + +When Henri Lacoste had drawn his last breath his wife shed a few +tears. But presently her grief gave place to other preoccupations. +She herself looked out the sheet for wrapping +the corpse, and thereafter she began to search in the desk for +the will which made her her husband's sole heir. + +Next day Meilhan, who had not once looked in on Lacoste during +his illness, hastened to visit the widow. The widow invited him +to dinner. The day after that he dined with her again, and they +were seen walking together. Their intimacy seemed to grow daily. +But the friendship of Mme Lacoste for Meilhan did not end there. +Not very many days after the death of Lacoste Meilhan met the +Mayor of Riguepeu, M. Sabazan, and conducted him in a mysterious +manner into his schoolroom. Telling the Mayor that he knew him +to be a man of discretion, he confided in him that the Veuve +Lacoste intended giving him (Meilhan) a bill on one Castera. Did +the Mayor know Castera to be all right? The Mayor replied that a +bill on Castera was as good as gold itself. Meilhan said that +Mme Lacoste had assured him this was but the beginning of what +she meant to do for him. + +Meilhan wrote to Castera, who called on him. The schoolmaster +told Castera that in return for 2000 francs which she had +borrowed from him Mme Lacoste had given him a note for 1772 +francs, which was due from Castera to Henri Lacoste as part +inheritance from a brother. Meilhan showed Castera the original +note, which was to be renewed in Meilhan's favour. The accusation +dwelt on the different versions regarding his +possession of the note given by Meilhan to the Mayor and to +Castera. Meilhan was demonstrably lying to conceal Mme Lacoste's +liberality. + +Some little time after this Meilhan invited the Mayor a second +time into the schoolroom, and told him that Mme Lacoste meant to +assure him of a life annuity of 400 francs, and had asked him to +prepare the necessary document for her to sign. But there was +another proposition. If Meilhan would return the note for 1772 +francs owing by Castera she would make the annuity up to 500. +What, asked Meilhan, would M. le Maire do in his place? The +Mayor replied that in Meilhan's place he would keep the Castera +note and be content with the 400 annuity. Then Meilhan asked the +Mayor to draw up for him a specimen of the document necessary for +creating the annuity. This M. Sabazan did at once, and gave the +draft to Meilhan. + +Some days later still Meilhan told M. Sabazan that Mme Lacoste +did not wish to use the form of document suggested by the Mayor, +but had written one herself. Meilhan showed the Mayor the +widow's document, and begged him to read it to see if it was in +proper form. Sabazan read the document. It created an annuity +of 400 francs, payable yearly in the month of August. The Mayor +did not know actually if the deed was in the writing of Mme +Lacoste. He did not know her fist. But he could be certain that +it was not in Meilhan's hand. + +This deed was later shown by Meilhan to the cure of Riguepeu, who +saw at least that the deed was not in Meilhan's writing. He +noticed that it showed some mistakes, and that the signature of +the Widow Lacoste began with the word ``Euphemie.'' + +In the month of August Meilhan was met coming out of Mme +Lacoste's by the Mayor. Jingling money in his pocket, the +schoolmaster told the Mayor he had just drawn the first payment +of his annuity. Later Meilhan bragged to the cure of Basais that +he was made for life. He took a handful of louis from his +pocket, and told the priest that this was his daily allowance. + +``Whence,'' demanded the acte d'accusation, ``came all those +riches, if they were not the price of his share in the crime?'' + +But the good offices of Mme Lacoste towards Meilhan did not end +with the giving of money. In the month of August Meilhan was +chased from his lodgings by his landlord, Lescure, on suspicion +of having had intimate relations with the landlord's wife. The +intervention of the Mayor was ineffective in bringing about a +reconciliation between Meilhan and Lescure. Meilhan begged Mme +Lacoste to intercede, and where the Mayor had failed she +succeeded. + +While Mme Lacoste was thus smothering Meilhan with kindnesses she +was longing herself to make the most of the fortune which had +come to her. From the first days of her widowhood she was +constantly writing letters which Mme Lescure carried for her. +Euphemie had already begun to talk of remarriage. Her choice was +already made. ``If I marry again,'' she said, a few days after +the death of Lacoste, ``I won't take anybody but M. Henri Berens, +of Tarbes. He was my first love.'' + +The accusation told of Euphemie's departure for Tarbes, where +almost her first caller was this M. Henri Berens. The next day +she gave up the lodgings rented by her late husband, to establish +herself in rich apartments owned by one Fourcade, which she +furnished sumptuously. The accusation dwelt on her purchase of +horses and a carriage and on her luxurious way of living. It +also brought forward some small incidents illustrative of her +distaste for the memory of her late husband. It dealt with +information supplied by her landlord which indicated that her +conscience was troubled. Twice M. Fourcade found her trembling, as +with fear. On his asking her what was the matter she replied, ``I +was thinking of my husband--if he saw me in a place furnished like +this!'' + +(It need hardly be pointed out, considering the sour and +avaricious ways of her late husband, that Euphemie need not have +been conscience-stricken with his murder to have trembled over +her lavish expenditure of his fortune. But the point is typical +of the trivialities with which the acte d'accusation was padded +out.) + +The accusation claimed that a young man had several times been +seen leaving Euphemie's apartments at midnight, and spoke of +protests made by Mme Fourcade. Euphemie declared herself +indifferent to public opinion. + +Public opinion, however, beginning to rise against her, Euphemie +had need to resort to lying in order to explain her husband's +death. To some she repeated the story of the +onion-garlic-and-beans meal, adding that, in spite of his +indigestion, he had eaten gluttonously later in the day. To +others she attributed his illness to two indigestible repasts +made at the fair. To others again she said Lacoste had died of a +hernia, forced out by his efforts to vomit. She was even accused +of saying that the doctor had attributed the death to this cause. +This, said the indictment, was a lie. Dr Lasmolles declared that +he had questioned Lacoste about the supposed hernia, and that the +old man denied having any such thing. + +What had brought about Lacoste's fatal illness was the wine +Meilhan had made him drink at Rigeupeu fair. + +With the rise of suspicion against her and her accomplice, Mme +Lacoste put up a brave front. She wrote to the Procureur du Roi, +demanding an exhumation, with the belief, no doubt, that time +would have effaced the poison. At the same time she sent the +bailiff Labadie to Riguepeu, to find out the names of those who +were traducing her, and to say that she intended to prosecute her +calumniators with the utmost rigour of the law. This, said the +accusation, was nothing but a move to frighten the witnesses +against her into silence. Instead of making good her threats the +Widow Lacoste disappeared. + +On the arrest of Meilhan search of his lodgings resulted in the +finding of the note on Castera for 1772 francs, and of a sum of +800 francs in gold and silver. But of the deed creating the +annuity of 400 francs there was no trace. + +Meilhan denied everything. In respect of the wine he was said to +have given Lacoste he said he had passed the whole of the 16th of +May in the company of a friend called Mothe, and that Mothe could +therefore prove Meilhan had never had a drink with Lacoste. +Mothe, however, declared he had left Meilhan that day at three +o'clock in the afternoon, and it was just at this time that +Meilhan had taken Lacoste into the auberge where he lived to give +him the poisoned drink. It was between three and four that +Lacoste first showed signs of being ill. + +Asked to explain the note for 1772 francs, Meilhan said that, +about two months after Lacoste's death, the widow complained of +not having any ready money. She had the Castera note, and he +offered to discount it for her. This was a palpable lie, said +the accusation. It was only a few days after Lacoste's death +that Meilhan spoke to the Mayor about the Castera note. +Meilhan's statement was full of discrepancies. He told Castera +that he held the note against 2000 francs previously lent to the +widow. He now said that he had discounted the note on sight. +But the fact was that since Meilhan had come to live in Riguepeu +he had been without resources. He had stripped himself in order +to establish his son in a pharmacy at Vic-Fezensac. His profession +of schoolmaster scarcely brought him in enough for +living expenses. How, then, could he possibly be in a position +to lend Mme Lacoste 2000 francs? And how had he managed to +collect the 800 odd francs that were found in his lodgings? The +real explanation lay in the story he had twice given to the +Mayor, M. Sabazan: he was in possession of the Castera note +through the generosity of his accomplice. + +Meilhan was in still greater difficulty to explain the document +which had settled on him an annuity of 400 francs, and which had +been seen in his hands. Denial was useless, since he had asked +the Mayor to make a draft for him, and since he had shown that +functionary the deed signed by Mme Lacoste. Here, word for word, +is the explanation given by the rubicund Joseph: + +``My son,'' he said, ``kept asking me to contribute to the upkeep +of one of his boys who is in the seminary of Vic-Fezensac. I +consistently refused to do so, because I wanted to save what +little I might against the time when I should be unable to work +any longer. Six months ago my son wrote to the cure, begging him +to speak to me. The cure, not wishing to do so, sent on the +letter to the Mayor, who communicated with me. I replied that I +did not wish to do anything, adding that I intended investing my +savings in a life annuity. At the same time I begged M. Sabazan +to make me a draft in the name of Mme Lacoste. She knew nothing +about it. M. Sabazan sent me on the draft. It seemed to me well +drawn up. I rewrote it, and showed it to M. Sabazan. At the +foot of the deed I put the words `Veuve Lacoste,' but I had been +at pains to disguise my handwriting. I did all this with the +intention of making my son believe, when my infirmities obliged +me to retire to his household, that my income came from a life +annuity some one had given me; and to hide from him where I had put +my capital I wanted to persuade M. Sabazan that the deed +actually existed, so that he could bear witness to the fact to my +son.'' Here, said the accusation, Meilhan was trying to make +out that it was on the occasion of a letter from his son that he +had spoken to the Mayor of the annuity. + +The cure of Riguepeu, however, while admitting that he had +received such a letter from Meilhan's son, declared that this was +long before the death of Henri Lacoste. The Mayor also said that +he had spoken to Meilhan of his son's letter well before the time +when the accused mentioned the annuity to him and asked for a +draft of the assignment. + +The accusation ridiculed Meilhan's explanation, dubbing it just +another of the schoolmaster's lies. It brought forward a +contradictory explanation given by Meilhan to one Thener, a +surgeon, whom he knew to be in frequent contact with the son whom +the document was intended to deceive. Meilhan informed Thener +that he had fabricated the deed, and had shown it round, in order +to inspire such confidence in him as would secure him refuge when +he had to give up schoolmastering. + +These contradictory and unbelievable explanations were the fruit +of Meilhan's efforts to cover the fact that the annuity was the +price paid him by the Widow Lacoste for his part in the murder of +her husband. It was to be remembered that M. Sabazan, whose +testimony was impeccable, had seen Meilhan come from the house of +Mme Lacoste, and that Meilhan had jingled money, saying he had +just drawn the first payment of his annuity. + +The accusation, in sum, concentrated on the suspicious +relationship between Meilhan and the Widow Lacoste. It was a +long document, but something lacking in weight of proof--proof of +the actual murder, that is, if not of circumstance. + + + +% V + +The process in a French criminal court was--and still +is--somewhat long-winded. The Procureur du Roi had to go over +the accusation in detail, making the most of Mme Lacoste's +intimacy with the ill-reputed old fellow. That parishioner, far +from being made indignant by the animadversions of M. Cassagnol, +listened to the recital of his misdeeds with a faint smile. He +was perhaps a little astonished at some of the points made +against him, but, it is said, contented himself with a gesture of +denial to the jury, and listened generally as if with pleasure at +hearing himself so well spoken of. + +He was the first of the accused to be questioned. + +It was brought out that he had been a soldier under the Republic, +and then for a time had studied pharmacy. He had been a +corn-merchant in a small way, and then had started schoolmaster. + +Endeavour was made to get him to admit guilty knowledge of the +death of the Lescure girl. He had never even heard of an +abortion. The girl had a stomach-ache. This line failing, he +was interrogated on the matter of being chased from his lodgings +by the landlord-father, it would seem, of the aforementioned +girl. (It may be noted that Meilhan lived on in the auberge +after her death.) Meilhan had an innocent explanation of the +incident. It was all a mistake on the part of Lescure. And he +hadn't been chased out of the auberge. He had simply gone out +with his coat slung about his shoulders. Mme Lacoste went with +him to patch the matter up. + +He had not given Lacoste a drink, hadn't even spoken with him, at +the Riguepeu fair, but had passed the day with M. Mothe. Cournet +had told him of Lacoste's having a headache, but had said nothing +of vomitings. He had not seen Lacoste during the latter's +illness, because Lacoste was seeing nobody. + +This business of the annuity had got rather entangled, but he +would explain. He had lodged 1772 francs with Mme Lacoste, and +she had given him a bill on Castera. Whether he had given the +money before or after getting the bill he could not be sure. He +thought afterwards. He had forgotten the circumstances while in +prison. + +Meilhan stuck pretty firmly to his story that it was to deceive +his son that he had fabricated the deed of annuity. He couldn't +help it if the story sounded thin. It was the fact. + +How had he contrived to save, as he said, 3000 francs? His +yearly income during his six years at Riguepeu had been only 500 +francs. The court had reason to be surprised. + +``Ah! You're surprised!'' exclaimed Meilhan, rather put out. +But at Breuzeville, where he was before Riguepeu, he had bed and +board free. In Riguepeu he had nothing off the spit for days on +end. He spent only 130 francs a year, he said, giving details. +And then he did a little trade in corn. + +He had destroyed the annuity deed only because it was worthless. +As for what he had said to the Mayor about drawing his first +payment of the pension, he had done it because he was a bit +conscience-stricken over fabricating the deed. He had been +bragging--that was all. + +The President, having already chidden Meilhan for being prolix in +his answers, now scolded him for anticipating the questions. But +the fact was that Meilhan was not to be pinned down. + +The first questions put to Mme Lacoste were with regard to her +marriage and her relations with her husband. She admitted, +incidentally, having begun to receive a young man some six weeks +after her husband's death, but she had not known him before +marriage. Meilhan had carried no letters between them. She had +married Lacoste of her own free will. Lacoste had not asked any +attentions from her that were not ordinarily sought by a husband, +and her care of him had been spontaneous. It was true he was +jealous, but he had not formally forbidden her pleasures. She +had renounced them, knowing he was easily upset. It was true +that she had seldom gone out, but she had never wanted to. +Lacoste was no more avaricious than most, and it was untrue that +he had denied her any necessaries. + +Taken to the events of the fair day, Tuesday, the 16th of May, +Mme Lacoste maintained that her husband, on his return, +complained only of a headache. He had gone to bed early, but he +usually did. That night he slept in the same alcove as herself, +but next night they separated. In spite of the contrary evidence +of witnesses, of which the President reminded her, Mme Lacoste +firmly maintained that it was not until the Wednesday-Thursday +night that Lacoste started to vomit. It was not until that night +that she began to attend to him. She had given him lemonade, +washed him, and so on. + +The President was saying that nobody had been allowed near him, +and that a doctor was not called, when the accused broke in with +a lively denial. Anybody who wanted to could see him, and a +doctor was called. This was towards the last, the President +pointed out. Mme Lacoste's advocate intervened here, saying that +it was the husband who did not wish a doctor called, for reasons +of his own. The President begged to be allowed to hear the +accused's own answers. He pointed out that the ministrations of +the accused had effected no betterment, but that the illness had +rapidly got worse. The delay in calling a doctor seemed to lend +a strange significance to the events. + +Mme Lacoste answered in lively fashion, accenting her phrases +with the use of her hands: ``But, monsieur, you do not take into +account that it was not until the night of Wednesday and the +Thursday that my husband began to vomit, and that it was two days +after that he--he succumbed.'' + +The President said a way remained of fixing the dates and +clearing up the point. He had a letter written by M. Lacoste to +the doctor in which he himself explained the state of his +illness. It was pointed out to him that the letter had been +written by Mme Lacoste at her husband's dictation. + +The letter was dated the 19th (Friday). It was directed to M. +Boubee, doctor of medicine, in Vic-Fezensac. Perhaps it would be +better to give it in the original language. It is something +frank in detail: + + +Depuis quelque temps j'avais perdu l'appetit et m'endormais de +suite quand j'etais assis. Mercredi il me vint un secours de +nature par un vomissement extraordinaire. Ces vomissements m'ont +dure pendant un jour et une nuit; je ne rendais que de la bile. +La nuit passee, je n'en ai pas rendu; dans ce moment, j'en rends +encore. Vous sentez combien ces efforts reiteres m'ont fatigue; +ces grands efforts m'ont fait partir de la bile par en bas; je +vous demanderai, monsieur, si vous ne trouveriez pas a propos que +je prisse une medecine d'huile de ricin ou autre, celle que vous +jugerez a propos. Je vous demanderai aussi si je pourrais +prendre quelques bains. [signe] + LACOSTE PHILIBERT + +Je rends beaucoup de vents par en bas. Pour la boisson, je ne +bois que de l'eau chaude et de l'eau sucree. (Il n'y a pas eu de +fievre encore.) + + +The Procureur du Roi maintained that this letter showed the +invalid had already been taken with vomiting before it was +considered necessary to call in a doctor. But Mme Lacoste's +advocate pointed out that the letter was written by her, when she +had overcome Lacoste's distaste for doctors. + +The President made much of the fact that Mme Lacoste had +undertaken even the lowliest of the attentions necessary in a +sick-room, when other, more mercenary, hands could have been +engaged in them. The accusation from this was that she did these +things from a desire to destroy incriminating evidences. Mme +Lacoste replied that she had done everything out of affection for +her husband. + +Asked by the court why she had not thought to give Dr Boubee any +explanations of the illness, she replied that she knew her +husband was always ill, but that he hid his maladies and was +ashamed of them. He had, it appeared, hernias, tetters, and +other maladies besides. It was easy for her to gather as much, +in spite of the mystery Lacoste made of them; she had seen him +rubbing his limbs at times with medicaments, and at others she +had seen him taking medicines internally. He was always vexed +when she found him at it. She did not know what doctor +prescribed the medicaments, nor the pharmacist who supplied them. +Her husband thought he knew more than the doctors, and usually +dealt with quacks. + +Mme Lacoste was questioned regarding her husband's will, and on +his longing to have an heir of his own blood. She knew of the +will, but did not hear any word of his desire to alter it until +after his death. With regard to Lacoste's attempts to seduce the +servants, she declared this was a vague affair, and she had found +the first girl in question a place elsewhere. + +Her letter to the Procureur du Roi demanding an exhumation and +justice against her slanderers was read. Then a second one, in +which she excused her absence, saying that she would give +herself up for judgment at the right time, and begged him to add +her letter to the papers of the process. + +The President then returned to the question of her husband's +attempts to seduce the servants. She denied that this was the +cause of quarrels. There had been no quarrels. She did not know +that her husband was complaining outside about her. + +She denied all knowledge of the arsenic found in Lacoste's body, +but suggested that it might have come from one or other of the +medicines he took. + +Questioned with regard to her intimacy with Meilhan, she declared +that she knew nothing of his morals. She had intervened in the +Lescure affair at the request of Mme Lescure, who came to deny +the accusation made by Lescure. This woman had never acted as +intermediary between herself and Meilhan. Meilhan had not been +her confidant. She looked after her late husband's affairs +herself. She had handed over the Castera note to Meilhan against +his loan of 2000 francs, but she had never given him money as a +present. Nor had she ever spoken to Meilhan of an annuity. But +Meilhan, it was objected, had been showing a deed signed +``Euphemie Lacoste.'' The accused quickly replied that she never +signed herself ``Euphemie,'' but as ``Veuve Lacoste.'' Upon this +the President called for several letters written by the accused. +It was found that they were all signed ``Veuve Lacoste.'' + +The evidence of the Fourcades regarding her conduct in their +house at Tarbes was biased, she said. She had refused to take up +some people recommended by her landlady. The young man who had +visited her never remained longer than after ten o'clock or +half-past, and she saw nothing singular in that. + +The examination-in-chief of Mme Lacoste ended with her firm +declaration that she knew nothing of the poisoning of her +husband, and that she had spoken the truth through all her +interrogations. Some supplementary questions were answered by +her to the effect that she knew, during her marriage, that her +husband had at one time suffered from venereal disease; and that +latterly there had been recrudescences of the affection, together +with the hernia already mentioned, for which her husband took +numerous medicaments. + +Throughout this long examination Mme Lacoste showed complete +self-possession, save that at times she exhibited a Gascon +impatience in answering what she conceived to be stupid +questions. + + + +% VI + +The experts responsible for the analysis of Lacoste's remains +were now called. All three of those gentlemen from Paris, MM. +Pelouze, Devergie, and Flandin, agreed in their findings. Two +vessels were exhibited, on which there glittered blobs of some +metallic substance. This substance, the experts deposed, was +arsenic obtained by the Marsh technique from the entrails and the +muscular tissue from Lacoste's body. They could be sure that the +substances used as reagents in the experiments were pure, and +that the earth about the body was free from arsenic. + +M. Devergie said that science did not admit the presence of +arsenic as a normal thing in the human body. What was not made +clear by the expert was whether the amount of arsenic found in the +body of Lacoste was consistent with the drug's having been taken in +small doses, or whether it had been given in one dose. +Devergie's confrere Flandin later declared his conviction that +the death of Lacoste was due to one dose of the poison, but, from +a verbatim report, it appears that he did not give any reason for +the opinion. + +At this point Mme Lacoste was recalled, and repeated her +statement that she had seen her husband rubbing himself with an +ointment and drinking some white liquid on the return of a +syphilitic affection. + +Dr Lasmolles testified that Lacoste, though very close-mouthed, +had told him of a skin affection that troubled him greatly. The +deceased dosed himself, and did not obey the doctors' orders. It +was only from a farmer that he understood Lacoste to have a +hernia, and Lacoste himself did not admit it. The doctor did not +believe the man poisoned. He had been impressed by the way Mme +Lacoste looked after her husband, and the latter did not complain +about anyone. M. Lasmolles had heard no mention from Lacoste of +the glass of wine given him by Meilhan. + +After M. Devergie had said that he had heard of arsenical +remedies used externally for skin diseases, but never of any +taken internally, M. Plandin expressed his opinion as before +quoted. + +The next witness was one Dupouy, of whom some mention has already +been made. Five days before his death Lacoste told him that, +annoyed with his wife, he definitely intended to disinherit her. +Dupouy admitted, however, that shortly before this the deceased +had spoken of taking a pleasure trip with Mme Lacoste. + +Lespere then repeated his story of the complaints made to him by +Lacoste of his wife's conduct, of his intention of altering his +will, and of his belief that Euphemie was capable of poisoning +him in order to get a younger man. It was plain that this +witness, a friend of Lacoste's for forty-six years, was not ready +to make any admissions in her favour. He swore that Lacoste had +told him his wife did not know she was his sole heir. He was +allowed to say that on the death of Lacoste he had immediately +assumed that the poisoning feared by Lacoste had been brought +about. He had heard nothing from Lacoste of secret maladies or +secret remedies, but had been so deep in Lacoste's confidence +that he felt sure his old friend would have mentioned them. He +had heard of such things only at the beginning of the case. + +The Procureur du Roi remarked here that reliance on the secret +remedies was the `system' of the defence. + +That seemed to be the case. The `system' of the prosecution, on +the other hand, was to snatch at anything likely to appear as +evidence against the two accused. The points mainly at issue +were as follows: + +(1) Did Meilhan have a chance of giving Lacoste a drink at the +fair? + +(2) Did Lacoste become violently sick immediately on his return +from the fair? + +(3) Did Lacoste suffer from the ailments attributed to him by his +wife, and was he in the habit of dosing himself? + +(4) Did Meilhan receive money from Mme Lacoste, and, +particularly, did she propose to allow him the supposed annuity? + + +With regard to (1), several witnesses declared that Lacoste had +complained to them of feeling ill after drinking with Meilhan, +but none could speak of seeing the two men together. M. Mothe, +the friend cited by Meilhan, less positive in his evidence in +court than the acte d'accusation made him out to be, could not +remember if it was on the 16th of May that he had spent the whole +afternoon with Meilhan. It was so much his habit to be with +Meilhan during the days of the fair that he had no distinct +recollection of any of them. Another witness, having business +with Lacoste, declared that on the day in question it was +impossible for Meilhan to have been alone with Lacoste during the +time that the latter was supposed to have taken the poisoned +drink. Lescure, in whose auberge Lacoste was supposed to have +had the drink, failed to remember such an incident. The evidence +that Meilhan had given Lacoste the drink was all second-hand; +that to the contrary was definite. + +For the most part the evidence with regard to (2), that Lacoste +became very ill immediately on his return from the fair, was +hearsay. The servants belonging to the Lacoste household all +maintained that the vomiting did not seize the old man until the +night of Wednesday-Thursday. Indeed, two witnesses testified that +the old man, in spite of his supposed headache, essayed to show +them how well he could dance. This was on his return from the fair +where he was supposed to have been given a poisoned drink at three +o'clock. The evidence regarding the seclusion of Lacoste by his +wife was contradictory, but the most direct of it +maintained that it was the old man himself, if anyone, who wanted +to be left alone. On this point arises the question of the delay +in calling the doctor. Witness after witness testified to +Lacoste's hatred of the medical faculty and to his preference for +dosing himself. He declared his faith in a local vet. + +On (3), the bulk of the evidence against Lacoste's having the +suggested afflictions came simply from witnesses who had not +heard of them. There was, on the contrary, quite a number of +witnesses to declare that Lacoste did suffer from a skin disease, +and that he was in the habit of using quack remedies, the +stronger the better. It was also testified that Lacoste was in +the habit of prescribing his remedies for other people. A +witness declared that a woman to whom Lacoste had given medicine +for an indisposition had become crippled, and still was crippled. + +With regard to (4), the Mayor merely repeated the evidence given +in his first statement, but the cure', who also saw the deed +assigning an annuity to Meilhan, said that it was not in Mme +Lacoste's writing, and that it was signed with the unusual +``Euphemie.'' This last witness added that Mme Lacoste's +reputation was irreproachable, and that her relations with her +husband were happy. + +Evidence from a business-man in Tarbes showed that Mme Lacoste's +handling of her fortune was careful to a degree, her expenditure +being well within her income. This witness also proved that the +Fourcades' evidence of Euphemie's misbehaviour could have been +dictated from spite. Fourcade had been found out in what looked +like a swindle over money which he owed to the Lacoste estate. + +The court then went more deeply into the medico-legal evidence. +It were tedious to follow the course of this long argument. +After a lengthy dissertation on the progress of an acute +indigestion and the effects of a strangulated hernia M. Devergie +said that, as the poison existed in the body, from the symptoms +shown in the illness it could be assumed that death had resulted +from arsenic. The duration of the illness was in accord with the +amount of arsenic found. + +M. Flandin agreed with this, but M. Pelouze abstained from +expressing an opinion. He, however, rather gave the show away, +by saying that if he was a doctor he would take care to forbid +any arsenical preparations. ``These preparations,'' he said +moodily, ``can introduce a melancholy obscurity into the +investigations of criminal justice.'' + +Some sense was brought into the discussion by Dr Molas, of Auch. +He put forward the then accepted idea of the accumulation of +arsenic taken in small doses, and the power of this accumulation, +on the least accident, of determining death. + +This was rather like chucking a monkey-wrench into the +cerebration machinery of the Paris experts. They admitted that +the absorption and elimination of arsenic varied with the +individual, and generally handed the case over to the defence. +M. Devergie was the only one who stuck out, but only partially +even then. ``I persist in believing,'' he said, `` that M. +Lacoste succumbed to poisoning by arsenic; but I use the word +`poisoning' only from the point of view of science: arsenic +killed him.'' + + + +% VII + +The speech of the Procureur du Roi was another resume of the acte +d'accusation, with consideration of that part of the evidence +which suited him best. + +This was followed by the speech of Maitre Canteloup in defence of +Meilhan. The speech was a good effort which demonstrated that, +whatever rumour might accuse the schoolmaster of, there were +plenty of people of standing who had found him upright and free +from stain through a long life. It reproached the accusation +with jugglery over dates and so forth in support of its case, and +confidently predicted the acquittal of Meilhan. + +Then followed the speech of Maitre Alem-Rousseau on behalf of the +Veuve Lacoste. Among other things the advocate brought forward +the fact that Euphemie was not so poorly born as the prosecution +had made out, but that she had every chance of inheriting some +20,000 francs from her parents. It was notorious that when Henri +Lacoste first broached the subject of marriage with Euphemie he +was not so rich as he afterwards became, but, in fact, believed he +had lost the inheritance from his brother Philibert, this last +having made a will in favour of a young man of whom popular rumour +made him the father. This was in 1839. The marriage was +celebrated in May of 1841. Henri Lacoste, it is true, had hidden +his intentions, but when news of the marriage reached the ears of +brother Philibert that brother was so delighted that he destroyed +the will which disinherited Henri. It was thus right to say that +Euphemie became the benefactor of her husband. Where was the +speculative marriage on the part of Euphemie that the prosecution +talked about? + +Maitre Alem-Rousseau made short work of the medico-legal evidence +(he had little bother with the facts of the illness). Poison was +found in the body. The question was, how had it got there? Was +it quite certain that arsenic could not get into the human body +save by ingestion, that it could not exist in the human body +normally? The science of the day said no, he knew, but the +science of yesterday had said yes. Who knew what the science of +to-morrow would say? + +The advocate made use of the evidence of a witness whose +testimony I have failed to find in the accounts of the trial. +This witness spoke of Lacoste's having asked, in Bordeaux, for a +certain liquor of ``Saint-Louis,'' a liquor which Mme Lacoste +took to be an anisette. ``No,'' said Lacoste, ``women don't take +it.'' Maitre Alem-Rousseau had tried to discover what this +liquor of Saint-Louis was. During the trial he had come upon the +fact that the arsenical preparation known as Fowler's solution +had been administered for the first time in the hospital of +Saint-Louis, in Paris. He showed an issue of the Hospital +Gazette in which the advertisement could be read: ``Solution de +Fowler telle qu'on l'administre a SAINT-LOUIS!'' The jury could +make what they liked of that fact. + +The advocate now produced documents to prove that the marriage of +Euphemie with her grand-uncle had not been so much to her +advantage, but had been--it must have been--a marriage of +affection. At the time when the marriage was arranged, he +proved, Lacoste had no more than 35,000 francs to his name. +Euphemie had 15,000 francs on her marriage and the hope of 20,000 +francs more. The pretence of the prosecution, that her +contentment with the abject duties which she had to perform in +the house was dictated by interest, fell to the ground with the +preliminary assumption that she had married for her husband's +money. + +Maitre Alem, defending the widow's gayish conduct after her +husband's death, declared it to be natural enough. It had been +shown to be innocent. He trounced the Press for helping to +exaggerate the rumours which envy of Mme Lacoste's good fortune +had created. He asked the jury to acquit Mme Lacoste. + +The Procureur du Roi had another say. It was again an attempt to +destroy the `system' of the defence, but by making a mystery of +the fact that the Lacoste-Verges marriage had not taken place in +a church he gave the wily Maitre Alem an opportunity for +following him. + +The summing-up of the President on the third day of the trial +was, it is said, a model of clarity and impartiality. The jury +returned on all the points put to them a verdict of ``Not +guilty'' for both the accused. + + + +% VIII + +Another verdict may now seem to have been hardly possible. The +accusation was built up on the jealousy of neighbours, on chance +circumstances, on testimonies founded on petty spite. But, +combined with the medico-legal evidence, the weight of +circumstance might easily have hoisted the accused in the +balance. + +It will be seen, then, how much on foot the case of the Veuve +Lacoste was with that of the Veuve Boursier, twenty years before. + +It is on the experience of cases such as these two that the +technique of investigation into arsenical poison has been +evolved. In the case of Veuve Boursier you find M. Orfila +discovering oxide of arsenic where M. Barruel saw only grains of +fat. Four years previous to the case of the Veuve Lacoste that +same Orfila came into the trial of Mme Lafarge with the first use +in medical jurisprudence of the Marsh test, and based on the +experiment a cocksure opinion which had much to do with the +condemnation of that unfortunate woman. In the Lacoste trial you +find the Parisian experts giving an opinion of no greater value +than that of Orfila's in the Lafarge case, but find also an +element of doubt introduced by the country practitioner, with his +common sense on the then moot question of the accumulation, the +absorption, and elimination of the drug. + +Nowadays we are quite certain that our experts in medical +jurisprudence know all there is to know about arsenical +poisoning. What are the chances, however, in spite of our +apparently well-founded faith, that some bristle-headed local +chemist with a fighting chin will not spring up at an +arsenic-poisoning trial and, with new facts about the substance, +blow to pieces the cocksure evidence of the leading expert in +pathology? It may seem impossible that such a thing can ever +happen again--a mistake regarding the action of arsenic on the +human body. But when we discover it becoming a commonplace of +science that one human may be poisoned by an everyday substance +which thousands of his fellows eat with enjoyment as well as +impunity--a substance, for instance, as everyday as +porridge--who will dare say even now that the last word has been +said and written of arsenic? + +But that, as the late George Moore so doted on saying, is +quelconque. M. Orfila, sure about the grocer of the Rue de la +Paix, was defeated by M. Barruel. M. Orfila, sure about the +death of Charles Lafarge, is declared by to-day's experts in +criminal jurisprudence and pathology to have been talking through +his hat. According to the present experts, says ``Philip +Curtin,'' Lafarge was not poisoned at all, but died a natural +death. Because of M. Devergie it was for the Veuve Lacoste as +much `touch and go' as it was for the Veuve Boursier twenty years +before. Well might Marie-Fortunee Lafarge, hearing in prison of +the verdict in the Lacoste trial, say, ``Ma condamnation a sauve +Madame Lacoste!'' + +In all this there's a moral lesson somewhere, but I'm blessed if +I can put my finger on it. + + + + + +INDEX + +Abbot, George, Archbishop of Canterbury +Alem-Rousseau, Maitre; on arsenic +Amos (Great Oyer of Poisoning) +Ansell, Mary +Aqua fortis--see Poisons +Armstrong, poisoner +Arsenic--see Poisons +Artois, Comte d'--see Charles X +Aumale, Duc d' + +Bacon, Sir Francis +Balfour, Rev. James +Ballet, Auguste +Barruel, Dr. +Barry, Philip Beaufroy +Berry, Duchesse de +Bidard, Professor; evidence against Helene Jegado +Black, Mrs (Armagh) +Blandy, Mary +Bordeaux, Duc de +Bordot, Dr. +Borgia, Cesare +Borgia, Lucretia +Borgia, Rodrigo, Pope Alexander VI +Borrow, George +Boubee, Dr. +Boudin, Dr. +Bourbon, Louis-Henri-Joseph, Duc de, afterwards Prince de Conde +Bourbon, Louise-Marie-Therese-Mathilde d'Orleans, Duchesse de +Boursier, Veuve; case compared with Veuve Lacoste's +Bouton, Dr. +Briant, Abbe +Brock, Alan +Broe, M. de, Avocat-General +Brownrigg, Elizabeth +Bruce, Rev. Robert +Burke and Hare +Burning at the stake + +Canteloup, Maitre +Cantharides--see Poisons +Carew, Edith Mary +Carr, Robert +Cassagnol, M., Procureur du Roi, Auch +Castaing, poisoner +Cecil, Robert, Lord Salisbury +Chabannes de la Palice, Marquise de +Charles X, King of France; flight from France +Cleopatra +Coke, Sir Edward, Lord Chief Justice +Conde, Louis-Henri-Joseph, Prince de--see Bourbon, Duc de Conde, +Louis-Joseph, Prince de +Cotton, Mary Ann +Couture, Maitre; speech in defence of Mme Boursier +Cream, Neill +``Curtin, Philip,'' + +Dawes, James, made Baron de Flassans +Dawes, Sophie, +Devergie, M., chemist +Diamond powder--see Poisons +Diblanc, Marguerite +Dilnot, George +Donnoderie, M., Assize President, Auch +Dorange, Maitre; defence of Helene Jegado +Dubois, Dr, his account of the Prince de Conde's death +Dunnipace, Laird of--see Livingstone, John +Dyer, Amelia + +``Egalite''--see Orleans, Louis-Philippe +Elwes, Sir Gervase +Enghien, Duc d' +Essex, Countess of--see Howard, Frances +Essex, Robert Devereux, third Earl of + +Farnese, Julia +Feucheres, Adrien-Victor, Baron de; marriage with Sophie Dawes; +separation +Feucheres, Baronne de--see Dawes, Sophie +Flanagan, Mrs. poisoner +Flandin, M., chemist +Flassans, Baronde--see Dawes, James +Fly-papers, for arsenic +Forman, Dr +``Fowler's solution'' +Franklin, apothecary + +Gardy, Dr +Gendrin, Dr +Gibbon, Edward +Gowrie mystery +Gribble, Leonard R. +Gunness, Belle + +Hardouin, M., Assize President, Seine +Harris, Miss +Henry, Prince of Wales, son of James VI and I +Higgins, Mrs, poisoner +Hogarth, William +Holroyd, Susannah, poisoner +Howard family +Howard, Frances, Countess of +Essex, Countess of Somerset; early marriage; attracted to Robert +Carr; begs Essex to agree to annul marriage; administers poison to +husband; annulment petition presented; nullity suit succeeds; +enmity to Overbury inexplicable; arrest and trial; death; portrait +Howard, Thomas, Earl of Suffolk + +Jack the Ripper +Jael +James VI and I, cruelty and inclemency of; double dealing +of; share in Overbury's murder +Jegado, HeleneJ +Jesse, Tennyson +Jones, Inigo +Judith + +Kent, Edward Augustus, Duke of +Kincaid, John, Laird of Warriston +Kipling, Rudyard +Kostolo (the Boursier case) + +Lacenaire, murderer and robber, his verses against King Louis- +Philippe +Lacoste, Henri +Lacoste, Veuve +Lacroix, Abbe Pelier de, his evidence re death of Prince de Conde +refused +Lafarge, Marie-Fortunee +Lambot, aide-de-camp to last Prince de Conde +Lapis costitus--see Poisons +Lavaillaut, Mme +Lecomte, valet to last Prince de Conde +Lesieur, chemist +Lidange, chemist +Linden, Mme van der +Livingstone, or Kincaid, Jean +Livingstone, John, of Dunipace +Locusta +Logan, Guy +Lombroso, Cesare +Loubel, apothecary + +MACE, PERROTTE (Jegado victim) +``Maiden,'' the +Mainwaring, Sir Arthur +Malcolm, Sarah; portraits of +Malgutti, Professor, his evidence re arsenic in Jegado trial +Manoury, valet to last Prince de Conde +``Marsh technique,'' arsenic +Maybrick, Mrs, poisoner +Mayerne, Sir Theodore +Meilhan, Joseph +Mercury--see Poisons +Messalina +Moinet, Paul +Molas, Dr, arsenic theory +Monson, Sir Thomas +Montagu, Violette +Murdo, Janet +`Mute of malice,' + +Northampton, Henry Howard, Earl of +Norwood, Mary + +O'Donnell, Elliot +Orfila, Professor; change of opinions re arsenic; intervention in +Lafarge case +Orleans, Louis-Philippe, Duc d', (King of the French); bourgeois +traits of; elected King +Orleans, Louis-Philippe (``Egalite''), Duc d' +Orleans, Louise-Marie-Therese-Mathilde d'--see Bourbon, Louise- +Marie-Therese-Mathilde d'Orleans, Duchesse de +Overbury, Sir Thomas + +Parry, Judge A. E. +Partra, Dr +Pasquier, M. +Paul III, Pope +Pearcy, Mrs, murderess +Pearson, Sarah +Pelouze, chemist +Perrin, Maitre Theo. +Phosphorus--see Poisons +Piddington, Rev. Mr. +Pinault, Dr. of Rennes +Pitcairn's trials +Pitois, Dr. his estimate of character of Helene Jegado +Poisons: aqua fortis; arsenic (from fly-papers),(white),(from a +vermicide); cantharides; diamond powder; great spiders; lapis +costitus; mercury (metallic),(corrosive sublimate); phosphorus; +porridge;``rosalgar'' ; strychnine +Poisons, reasons murderesses are inclined to use +Pons, chemist +Porridge, poisoning--see Poisons +Porta, Guglielmo della +Pritchard, Dr, poisoner + +Rachel, MME +Rais, Gilles de +Rochester, Viscount--see Carr, Robert +Rohan, the Princes de, their lawsuit v. Sophie Dawes +``Rosalgar''--see Poisons +Roughead, William +Row, breaking on--see Wheel +Rully, Comtesse de +Rumigny, M. de, aide-de-camp to Louis-Philippe + +Sabatini, Rafael +Saint-Louis, Liquor of--see +``Fowler's solution +Sarrazin, Rosalie (Jegado victim) +Sarzeau, Dr, his evidence re arsenic in Jegado case +Seddon, poisoner +Smith (``brides in the bath'') +Somerset, Countess of--see Howard, Frances +Somerset, Earl of--see Carr, Robert +Spara, Hieronyma +Spiders, great--see Poisons +Strychnine--see Poisons +Suffolk, Countess of +Suffolk, Earl of--see Howard, Thomas + +Tessier, Rose (Jegado victim) +Toffana, poisoner +Turner, Anne; as beauty specialist; her lover; relations with +Countess of Essex; a spy for Northampton (?); causes poisoned food +to be carried to Overbury in the Tower; arrest; trial; condemnation +and execution +Turner, Dr George + +Vigoureux, La +Voisin, La + +Wade, Sir Willlam +Wainewright, poisoner +Walpole, Horace +Warriston, Lady--see Livingstone, Jean +Webster, Kate +Weir, Robert +Weissmann-Bessarabo, Mme +Weissmann-Bessarabo, Paule Jacques +Weldon, Antony +Wheel,Breaking on the +Winchilsea, Earl of + +Zwanziger, Anna + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg Etext of She Stands Accused by Victor MacClure + diff --git a/old/1996-04-ssacc10.zip b/old/1996-04-ssacc10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2a4ceac --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1996-04-ssacc10.zip |
