A History of Inventions, Discoveries, and Origins. Johann Beckmann
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All these poisons were prepared from plants, particularly aconite, hemlock and poppy, or extracted from animal substances. Among those made from the latter, none is more remarkable than that supplied by the sea-hare, lepus marinus, with which, as Philostratus says114, Titus was despatched by Domitian. Without here attempting to define the substances employed by the ancients to compose their poisons, I shall only observe, that the lepus marinus, the terrible effects of which are expressly mentioned by Dioscorides, Galen, Nicander, Aëtius, Ælian115, Pliny116, and others, is that animal called at present in the Linnæan system Aplysia depilans117, as Rondelet conjectured, and has been since fully proved by Bohadsch118. This animal poison however seems to have been seldom used, as it easily betrays itself by some peculiar symptoms. It appears that it was not known to Aristotle, at least he makes no mention of it119. With the far stronger, and now common mineral poisons the ancients were not acquainted; for their arsenic was what we call orpiment, and not that pernicious metallic oxide which formed the principal ingredient of those secret poisons which in latter times were in France and Italy brought to a diabolical perfection120.
No one was ever more infamous by this art than Tophania, or Toffana, a woman who resided first at Palermo, and afterwards at Naples. She sold those drops, which from her acquired the name of aqua Tophania, aqua della Toffana, and which were called also acquetta di Napoli, or only acquetta; but she distributed her preparation by way of charity to such wives as wished to have other husbands. From four to six drops were sufficient to destroy a man; and it was asserted that the dose could be so proportioned as to operate in a certain time. As she was watched by the government, she fled to an ecclesiastical asylum; and when Keysler was at Naples in 1730, she was then still living, because no one could, or was willing to take away her life, while under that protection. At that time she was visited by many strangers out of curiosity.
In Labat’s Travels through Italy121 we also find some information which may serve still further to illustrate the history of Tophania. She distributed her poison in small glass phials, with this inscription, Manna of St. Nicholas of Bari, and ornamented with the image of the saint. A miraculous oil, employed by folly in the cure of many diseases, drops from the tomb of that saint which is shown at Bari in the kingdom of Naples; and on this account it is dispersed in great abundance under the like name. It was therefore the best appellation which Tophania could give to her poison, because the reputed sanctity of it prevented the custom-house officers from examining it too closely. When the viceroy was informed of this, which I think was in 1709, Tophania fled from one convent to another, but was at length seized and thrown into prison. The clergy raised a loud outcry on account of this violation of ecclesiastical freedom, and endeavoured to excite the people to insurrection. But they were soon appeased on a report being spread that Tophania had confessed she had poisoned all the springs in the city. Being put to the rack, she acknowledged her wickedness, and confessed to having caused the death of not less than 600 persons; named those who had protected her, who were immediately dragged from churches and monasteries; and declared that the day before she had absconded, she had sent two boxes of her manna to Rome, where it was found in the custom-house, but she did not accuse any one of having ordered it. She was afterwards strangled, and to mitigate the archbishop, her body was thrown at night into the area of the convent from which she had been taken. Tophania however was not the only person at Naples who understood the making of this poison; for Keysler says that at the time he was there it was still secretly prepared and much employed.
In the year 1659, under the government of Pope Alexander VII., it was observed at Rome that many young married women were left widows, and that many husbands died when they became disagreeable to their wives. Several of the clergy declared also, that for some time past various persons had acknowledged at confession that they had been guilty of poisoning. As the government employed the utmost vigilance to discover these poisoners, suspicion fell upon a society of young married women, whose president appeared to be an old woman who pretended to foretell future events, and who had often predicted very exactly many deaths to persons who had cause to wish for them. To ascertain the truth, a crafty female, given out to be a person of considerable distinction, was sent to this old woman, pretending that she wished to obtain her confidence, and to procure some of her drops for a cruel and tyrannical husband. The whole society were by this stratagem arrested; and all of them, except the fortune-teller, whose name was Hieronyma Spara, confessed before they were put to the torture.—“Where now,” cried she, “are the Roman princes, knights and barons, who on so many occasions promised me their protection! Where are the ladies who assured me of their friendship! Where are my children whom I have placed in so distinguished situations!” In order to deter others from committing the like crime, one Gratiosa, Spara’s assistant, three other women, and the obstinate Spara herself, who still entertained hopes of assistance till the last moment, were hanged in the presence of innumerable spectators. Some months after, several more women were executed in the same manner; some were whipt, and others were banished from the country. Notwithstanding these punishments, the effects of this inveterate wickedness have been from time to time remarked. Le Bret, to whom we are indebted for the above account, says122 that Spara was a Sicilian, and acquired her knowledge from Tophania at Palermo. If that be true, the latter must have been early initiated in villany, and must have become when very young a teacher of her infamous art. Keysler calls her a little old woman.
The art of poisoning never excited more attention than it did in France about the year 1670123. Mary Margaret d’Aubray, daughter of the lieutenant-civil Dreux d’Aubray, was in the year 1651 married to the Marquis de Brinvillier, son of Gobelin president of the Chamber of Accounts, who had a yearly income of thirty thousand livres, and to whom she brought a portion of two hundred thousand. He was mestre-de-camp of the regiment of Normandy, and during the course of his campaigns became acquainted with one Godin de Sainte Croix, a young man of a distinguished family, who served as a captain of cavalry in the regiment of Trassy. This young officer, who was then a needy adventurer, became a constant visitor of the marquis, and in a short time paid his addresses to the marchioness, who lost her husband after she had helped to dissipate his large fortune, and was thus enabled to enjoy her amours in greater freedom. Her indecent conduct, however, gave so much uneasiness to her father, that he procured a lettre de cachet, had Sainte Croix arrested while in a carriage by her side, and thrown into the Bastille124. Sainte Croix there got acquainted with an Italian named Exili, who understood the art of preparing poison, and from whom he learnt it. As they were both set at liberty after a year’s imprisonment, Sainte Croix kept Exili with him until he became perfectly master of the art, in which he afterwards instructed the marchioness, in order that she might employ it in bettering the circumstances of both. When she had acquired the principles of the art, she assumed the appearance of a nun, distributed food to the poor, nursed the sick in the Hôtel-Dieu, and gave them medicines, but only for the purpose of trying the strength of her poison undetected on these helpless wretches125. It was said in Paris, by way of satire, that no young physician, in introducing himself to practice, had ever so speedily filled a churchyard as Brinvillier. By the force of money, she prevailed on Sainte Croix’s servant, called La Chaussée, to administer poison to her father, into whose service she got him introduced, and also to her brother, who was a counsellor of the parliament, and resided at his father’s house. To the former the poison was given ten times before he died; the son died sooner; but the daughter,