"A Penny Worth of Arsenic:" Buying Poison in the 19th Century

-
Arsenic…strychnine…antimony…mercury…potassium…iron…phosphorus…cyanide…opium…laudanum…zinc… the list of poisons available to buy in the 19th century is seemingly endless and any one of these dangerous substances could be purchased for a few pennies with relative ease, even by children. Part of the reason for this ready availability was the widespread use of poisons in a number of industries: arsenic, for example, was used to provide the green colour in wallpapers that were so fashionable in the Victorian home; strychnine was used to kill troublesome rodents and laudanum was a commonly-prescribed painkiller. While many Victorians used these poisons for their intended means, there were many who bought them to dispatch a rich relative, troublesome spouse or, in Christiana Edmund’s case, a rival in love. 
An unscrupulous chemist sells arsenic and laudanum to a child.

By the time Christiana came to commit mass poisoning in the summer of 1871, the government had introduced two Acts to control the sale of poisons to the general public. The first came in 1851 and applied only to arsenic but the second, the Pharmacy Act of 1868, regulated the sale of all known poisons in the country. Under these new rules, a person could only buy poison if the chemist knew them personally, or if a witness was present who knew both parties. The details of all sales had to be entered into a Poison Book, including the reason for purchase, and the seller had to clearly label every substance with his name and address.  

Christiana knew about these regulations but, more importantly, she knew how to get around them. In March 1871 she made the first of many visits to Isaac Garrett, a chemist on Queens Road in Brighton from whom she purchased her medicines and toiletries. Having been a customer of his shop for the last four years, Garrett recognised Christiana and the pair made small talk but he knew none of her personal details or where she lived. On this particular visit, Christiana introduced herself as Mrs Wood of Hillside and told Garrett that she needed some strychnine to kill some cats who were destroying her garden. This was a perfectly acceptable reason for buying poison in the 19th century but strychnine is so powerful that Garrett hesitated and agreed to only sell the poison if she brought Mrs Stone, a milliner who worked nearby, to act as a witness. A few doors down, Christiana told Mrs Stone that she and her husband were naturalists who needed poison to treat the body of a bird they intended to stuff. Of course, this was a complete fabrication but her story worked and Mrs Stone duly agreed to witness the transaction. Within a few minutes, Christiana had bought enough strychnine to kill dozens of adults and neither Isaac Garrett nor Caroline Stone had any idea of her murderous intentions. 

If you want to read more about poisons in the 19th century, I highly recommend the following books:
C. Whorton, The Arsenic Century: How Victorian Britain Was Poisoned at Home, Work & Play, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2010. 
K. Watkins, Poisoned Lives: English Poisoners and Their Victims, London, Hambledon, 2004.
Image courtesy of the Wellcome Library, London. 

Popular posts from this blog

Face-Reading and Christiana Edmunds: The Wonderful World of Victorian Physiognomy

-
Image
When Christiana Edmunds stood trial for her poisoning spree in January 1872, her physical appearance was heavily scrutinised by the press. This was not uncommon among murderesses, as I'll discuss in a later post, but it was, in part, a response to the rise of a pseudo-science called Physiognomy. As a rough definition, Physiognomy is the belief that studying a person's facial features or expressions can be indicative of their personality or behaviour. Though it's centuries old, the Victorians had a particular love for Physiognomy and believed that it had a myriad of uses. It was used, for example, to depict the so-called differences between racial groups, like the Jews and the Irish. It was also used by Hugh Welch Diamond, the Superintendent at the Surrey County Asylum (1848-1858), as a means of both illustrating insanities (in its various forms) and as a method of treatment. Diamond believed that if a patient saw a photo of herself, she might recognise her madness and beg...
Read more

Christiana Edmunds: The Venus of Broadmoor (Part One)

-
Image
On this day - 5 July - in 1872, Christiana Edmunds was transferred from the Sussex Country Prison to Broadmoor Criminal Lunatic Asylum in Berkshire. Built in 1863, Broadmoor was England's answer to the long-standing question of where to house the criminally insane. Previously, the provision for such people was haphazard and generally inadequate, with many criminal lunatics housed in ordinary asylums or prisons. By 1860, it was felt that such provision was undesirable, as stated by a Select Committee of the House of Commons: To mix such persons, that is criminal lunatics, with other patients is a serious evil;  it is detrimental to the other patients as well as to themselves. In the same year, the government passed the Criminal Lunatic Asylum Act which authorised the creation of Broadmoor and gave the Home Secretary control over its management and the admission of patients. Construction began shortly after and, three years later, on 23 May 1863, Broadmoor welcomed its first ...
Read more

Christiana Edmunds: The Venus of Broadmoor (Part Two)

-
In the first part of this article , I looked at how the infamous institution, Broadmoor, came into being and the sort of asylum that it was when Christiana arrived there in July 1872. (If you missed it, you can read it here ). In this post, I'm looking at life for Christiana once she was admitted and as under the care of Dr William Orange, Broadmoor's resident superintendent. All of our knowledge of Christiana's time in Broadmoor comes from her medical file, a document filled out by Dr Orange and based entirely on his observations. As you can imagine, her file makes for interesting reading, not just because of its contents but because it is one of the few impressions of Christiana that remains in existence. According to Dr Orange, Christiana confirmed her diagnosis of insanity in the first few weeks of her arrival at Broadmoor. Though she was a "quiet and orderly" in her behaviour, she showed no remorse for the crimes that she had committed nor did she offer a...
Read more