1899 non-fiction; Dr Thompson, a medical historian, examines the
history and practice of poisoning.
This is a curiously disorganised book. Even the chapter headings,
starting off promisingly with "Poisons of Antiquity", "Poisons and
Superstition", and so on, soon divert into specific poisons, then
particular cases, then back to specific poisons, then addictive drugs,
poisons in ficton, some more cases… and individual chapters are
similarly disorganised, with things put in apparently in the order
that Thompson thought of them, with occasional jumps back to add
another sentence about an earlier point. This often feels like an
unedited first draft; of course, the word processor made it much
easier to fix the kind of bittiness seen here, but other writers of
this era copied the thing out again with revisions, and I suspect
Thompson didn't.
These plants were frequently employed in India for putting a sudden
end to domestic quarrels, and to this practice may be traced the
origin of the custom of "Suttee," or widow burning, as the Brahmins
found from experience that, by making a wife's life conterminous
with the husband's the average husband lived considerably longer.
(That idea is taken from Diodorus, who probably copied it from
Hieronymus of Cardia, who made it up as an example of the silliness of
marrying for love.)
There are curious omissions, perhaps of people who have only been
brought to prominence by modern scholarship; La Voisin is a mere
footnote to Exili and the death of Madame de Montespan (who here is
described as having died in 1672 apparently of poison, which isn't
consistent with the historical de Montespan at all). Of course there
are no sources cited.
More interesting is the more contemporary material, such as the
Maybrick and Bravo cases; but again it's a good idea to read Wikipedia
or other sources as well as this book, because Thompson gives only a
single narrative and can't be trusted to have checked any others. He's
always more interested in a good story than in the facts.
One does get a great sense of unsophistication among these criminals
(of course these are the ones who were suspected enough to be put on
trial); if you are a doctor and your friend becomes unwell whenever he
is under your care, and gets better every time you go away, there's a
fairly obvious place for the police to start looking when he dies and
you write out the death certificate. Especially if you then produce a
document in which he claims that he is solely liable for a whole mass
of debts which you have accumulated. And then when a post-mortem is to
be conducted you offer the post-boy a bribe to break the specimen jars
in transit… of course one doesn't know how much one of this can trust,
and I suspect it's mostly taken from contemporary newspaper accounts.
Thompson is never afraid to moralise, or to claim authority for his
statements, but for most things I've checked there seem to be
distinctly contradictory versions elsewhere.
The opium question is so complex in its nature, and is so largely
influenced by the habits and constitution of those nations who are
addicted to its use, that it is obvious that only those with skilled
medical knowledge, who are on the spot and have lived and had a
daily experience of the people, are in a proper position to deal
with the question at all.
And then there are bits of utter strangeness, which are such fun that
one doesn't care whether they're true.
According to a West End physician quite a new and most reprehensible
vice has recently become fashionable—viz., a craze that has arisen
among women for smoking green tea, in the form of cigarettes. Though
adopted by some fair ladies merely as a pastime, not a few of its
votaries are women of high education and mental attainments. "Among
my patients," he states, "suffering from extreme nervousness and
insomnia, is a young lady, highly distinguished, at Girton. Another
is a lady novelist, whose books are widely read, and who habitually
smoked twenty or thirty of these cigarettes nightly when writing,
for their stimulating effect." Though tea does not contain a trace
of any poisonous principle, it can, when thus misused, exert a most
harmful influence. Doubtless, the high pressure at which most of the
dwellers in our great cities now live, and the worry of too much
brain work on one hand, or the lack of occupation on the other, is
one of the chief causes of taking up habits of this kind.
It's a strange book, more of a pleasing diversion than a serious
historical document, but still quite enjoyable. Just don't take it as
any sort of authority.
But would-be experimentalists in the effects of hashish would do
well to remember that it may not be indulged in with impunity, and
most authorities agree that the brain becomes eventually disordered
with frequent indulgence in the drug even in India.
Freely available from
Project Gutenberg.
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