* * *
Neither la Voisin nor la Lepère appear to have been pressed to reveal the identities of the women who came to them for abortions, which gives some credence to Primi Visconti’s claim that the King discouraged this aspect of the inquiry from being taken further. However, as the days went by Mme Voisin gave the names of a significant number of clients who, she said, had approached her in the hope that she could hasten the death of another person. Among them was Mme Brissart, the widow of a Conseiller in Parlement. According to la Voisin, she had first contacted her because her love life was going badly, but she had then asked if anything could be done to rid her of her sister, who had displeased her by contracting an unsuitable marriage. Mme Brissart was consequently detained at Vincennes, though she protested that her sister’s death five years earlier had been caused by smallpox rather than as a result of her intervention. Mme Vertemart was also arrested after it emerged that she had consulted la Voisin on the advice of her aunts because she longed for her husband to die. Mme Roussel was another woman said by la Voisin to have had ‘wicked designs’ on her husband and she was taken into custody in early July.36
Some of those named by la Voisin were no longer available for questioning. Mme de Saint-Martin, who was said to have yearned for the death of her husband, had herself been dead for some years. Others who were still alive could not be located. In June 1679 la Voisin began giving an account of how, years before, the Marquise de Canilhac had visited her with her lover, M. de Broglio. The couple had started by asking whether Mme Voisin could provide them with some remedy which would make the Marquis de Canilhac drink less for, when drunk, he behaved ‘worse than a pig and brute beast’. When the potion supplied by la Voisin failed to lessen his consumption, the lovers had demanded something more lethal. La Voisin had gone to Mme Lepère, who gave her a water which she said ‘would put the husband to sleep for ever’. Sure enough, Canilhac had died shortly after being given this liquid and his widow had married M. de Broglio. However, the pair had since left the country and, though Louvois tried hard to track them down, he never managed to do so.37
La Voisin would later allege that this was not the only time that Mme Lepère had supplied her with poison, for she said the midwife had once given her something with which to kill her own husband. Mme Voisin had put this in her husband’s broth but he had come to no harm because their servant, suspecting something was amiss, had thrown the soup away.
* * *
It was not only la Voisin’s clients who now came under scrutiny. She and all the others taken into custody in the early stages of the inquiry were questioned exhaustively about their associates and this led to a spate of new arrests. On 24 April the commissioners of the Chamber decreed that fifteen more people should be taken to Vincennes. They included the divineress la Jacob who, Anne Cheron said, had expressed interest in purchasing a secret formula for poison; la Hébert who was ‘blacker than a coal’ and sold lotions to Mme Voisin; Jeanne Leroux, suspected of complicity in the murder of M. Leféron; Mme Vautier and her husband, who did distillations for la Voisin; and la Deslauriers, who had boasted to Anne Cheron that she knew ‘the secret of la Brinvilliers’. Also arrested at this time was the mysterious Latour, a former stonemason who had persuaded la Voisin to part with large sums of money in the belief that he would use his magic powers to assist her clients.38
These people incriminated others in their turn and the list of prisoners at Vincennes grew steadily longer. By May Catherine Trianon, a fifty-two-year-old widow who was held in awe by other members of her profession and who had often drawn up horoscopes for clients of la Voisin, was in confinement. When her house was searched, many ‘powders and suspicious drugs’ were found in her casket, notably white arsenic, realgar, orpiment, powdered glass and cantharides.39
She was joined in the cells by Marguerite Delaporte, the sixty-nine-year-old widow of a master baker. Her speciality was reading the future in a glass of water and she admitted that in order to make her visions materialise, she uttered incantations. She insisted, however, that she had never done anyone any harm and that, when her clients asked her to predict the deaths of their husbands, she annoyed them by replying that she left that in God’s hands. This did not fit with evidence from another source that, like la Voisin and la Trianon, la Delaporte had often purchased poisons from the herbalist Maîitre Pierre, ‘the greatest and most skilled poisoner in France’.40
La Pelletier was another woman who had done a lot of work for la Voisin. She was said to know a great deal about the properties of dried herbs and had once supplied la Voisin with a powerful love potion, which was supposed to be applied to the palm of a hand. La Voisin claimed that when Mme Brissart had expressed a desire to kill her sister, she had sent her to discuss the matter with la Pelletier.41
As the numbers at Vincennes swelled relentlessly, La Reynie was filled with horror by what he was learning. It was his impression that the lives of an entire sector of the Paris population revolved around poison, and that a frightening amount of effort was devoted to its purchase, sale and manufacture. Poison was so much a part of these people’s existence that they accepted as an occupational hazard that they themselves might fall victim to it. Sometimes this could be accidental, for the fact that so many of them dabbled in alchemy meant they were often exposed to dangerous chemicals. However, when unpleasant incidents occurred they were much more likely to ascribe the cause to deliberate attempts at murder. For example, Anne Cheron recalled an occasion when she and François Belot had fallen ill when drinking with a woman called la Montigny. Leaping to the conclusion that she had poisoned them, they had at once taken orvietan, a fashionable compound believed to be an antidote. On another occasion la Montigny herself had had an unpleasant experience when she had visited la Cheron’s house. When she had wiped herself with a handkerchief left behind by Marie Bosse, her face had begun to swell, which she thought was because the handkerchief was impregnated with some toxic substance. La Cheron had saved the day: she urinated in her shoe and persuaded la Montigny to drink the contents, causing her to vomit.42
* * *
On 5 June 1679 Mme de Poulaillon was tried at the Arsenal. It was a significant test for the commission, as it was the first time it had been required to judge a well-born defendant. After examining the evidence the Attorney-General of the Chamber had recommended that, like Mme de Brinvilliers, Mme de Poulaillon should be tortured, then beheaded. The commissioners took a different view. When the prisoner sat before them on the sellette, her penitent demeanour, coupled with her grace and charm, made a very favourable impression. Mme de Poulaillon disarmingly admitted that she merited severe punishment for having sought to drug and rob her husband, while maintaining that she had never attempted to kill him. After she had been taken back to prison, the commissioners debated for four hours what penalty was appropriate. At first it seemed that a majority of the judges favoured a death sentence. However, some of them were mindful of the implications this would have on the treatment of Mmes de Dreux and Leféron, and were therefore predisposed to leniency. They proved singularly persuasive and M. Fieubet in particular spoke so eloquently in the prisoner’s defence that he won over three of his colleagues. In the end the commissioners decreed that Mme de Poulaillon should be banished rather than executed.43
La Reynie, who clearly had been among the minority who voted for a death sentence, subsequently stated that Mme de Poulaillon herself considered that she had been shown undue compassion. He said that, when informed she would not be called upon to expiate her crime with her blood she had appeared inconsolable. She had pleaded that instead of being left free to roam abroad, she should be confined somewhere secure, for otherwise she could not guarantee that she would not commit fresh offences. If she really expressed herself thus, she subsequently had cause to regret it, for her wishes were fulfilled all too exactly. She was locked up in a forbidding ‘house of correction’ for fallen women in Angers and for eighteen years she eked out a sad existence in this grim ins
titution. Finally, in May 1697, she petitioned that she might be permitted to retire to a convent where conditions would be less austere. Her request seemed likely to be granted until it was referred to M. de La Reynie. By that time on the verge of retirement, he showed that age had not in any way softened his rigour. He declared himself implacably opposed to her release, pointing out that she herself had warned that, if freed, she would be a menace to society. The result was that Mme de Poulaillon remained incarcerated in her horrible workhouse for the remainder of her days.44
* * *
Mme de Poulaillon can hardly be said to have evaded punishment. On the other hand she had been handled more gently than prisoners who came from a less privileged background. The outcome of the trial suggested that the King had been misguided to hope that, when called upon to deliver judgement on members of their own class, the commissioners of a special tribunal would be less partisan than Parlement. Plainly regretful that his colleagues had been swayed by such considerations, the Recorder of the Chamber noted that on this occasion the commission had failed to show ‘the vigour which the public expected of it’.45
Events soon showed that the commissioners did not shrink from severe measures when they judged individuals with whom they could not so readily identify. On 10 June Mme Philbert was hanged for the murder of her first husband, having previously had her right hand amputated.* The guardsman François Belot was hanged with her for trying to poison M. de Poulaillon’s cup. Even under torture he had protested that he had not really known how to do this and that his real aim had been to steal the silver tankard. This earned him the concession of being strangled before being broken on the wheel. A week later his confederate Anne Cheron was hanged after admitting under torture that she had devoted great efforts to developing new poisons made from the juices of dead toads.46
The abortionist Mme Lepère was tried on 11 August. She was convicted of ‘having abused her skill as a sworn midwife’ by having ‘brought to bed before their term several girls and women … causing the deaths of the children they were carrying’.47 The next day she was placed in the brodequins although, in a rare instance of mercy, the torture was not actually applied on account of her advanced age. The grisly charade achieved nothing and she went to the gallows without revealing anything of substance.
Throughout the summer the grim toll mounted, but while this represented progress of a kind, La Reynie was not at all complacent. He did not flatter himself that the execution of these insignificant offenders would eradicate the scourge of poisoning, which was too virulent to be allayed so easily. He was sure that many crimes remained to be uncovered and that la Voisin’s clientele was far more distinguished than she had yet admitted. While he had no doubt that this would be a slow process, he believed that with patience and perseverance he would eventually learn everything and that the information would be drawn either from Mme Voisin herself or from the prisoners locked up with her.
SIX
THE MAGICIAN LESAGE
On 12 September 1679 Mme Voisin gave her fullest deposition to date.1 Perhaps she hoped that if she co-operated, mercy would be shown her; alternatively she may merely have wanted to delay her trial and realised that her captors would not institute proceedings against her while they believed they could learn important things from her. At any rate, she explained that she had hitherto refrained from telling them all she knew because she had been reluctant to cause anyone distress. Now, however, she wished to clear her conscience, hoping that since she had entrusted herself to God’s care and protection ‘the King would out of his goodness wish to have pity on her and her family’.
She then provided a much more detailed account of her dealings with Mme Leféron. She described how Mme Leféron had come to her to have her palm read and had almost at once wanted to know if there was any likelihood that she would soon become a widow. Once ‘accustomed to talking on this subject, little by little’ Mme Leféron had progressed to asking whether it might be possible to poison her husband. She and la Voisin had then discussed the feasibility of sending someone to Italy to obtain powdered diamonds, or a perfume with a deadly fragrance, but ultimately these options were dismissed as impractical. Instead, la Voisin had obtained from Magdelaine de La Grange a phial of arsenic and distilled sublimate, which was delivered by a third party, a woman called la Leroux. When the phial was given to Mme Leféron she protested that it would be difficult for her to put it in her husband’s broth as his servant was suspicious of her and watched her closely. However, it seems that an opportunity had presented itself for, three weeks later, M. Leféron had died. Subsequently the joyous Mme Leféron had paid a visit to la Voisin, saying that it was a relief to see someone with whom it was unnecessary to feign grief at her bereavement. Initially she had maintained that she had not given the liquid to her husband but she had soon dropped this pretence. When la Voisin had asked if she believed it was the effect of the poison that had killed him, Mme Leféron had cheerfully replied, ‘Effect or no … she was rid of him thank God!’
Having unburdened herself about Mme Leféron, la Voisin next turned her attention to Mme de Dreux. She confirmed that Mme de Dreux had given her a diamond ring as a down payment for poisoning a bouquet of flowers. These were to be sent to a woman who had made Mme de Dreux jealous, though la Voisin insisted she had not carried out the commission. Mme de Dreux had also discussed procuring the death of her husband and had indicated that she would pay la Voisin 2000 écus on completion of the task. However, though she was impatient to be rid of him, she was fearful of being prosecuted for murder. She therefore hoped that his death might be effected by occult means rather than poison. She had suggested that la Voisin should arrange for a Novena to be said, praying for the death of M. de Dreux, but she had made difficulties when la Voisin said that for that she would need one of M. de Dreux’s shirts, which his wife said would be hard for her to obtain.
Mme Voisin declared that she herself had never actually supplied Mme de Dreux with poison. However, she did not fail to point out that Mme de Dreux had had separate dealings with Marie Bosse and she made it clear that she could not answer for what had been agreed between them. Furthermore, la Voisin alleged that Mme de Dreux had told her she had already poisoned two men whom she had once loved but had grown to hate, although she was vague about the identity of the two victims.
As a result of these revelations a confrontation was arranged between la Voisin and Mmes de Dreux and Leféron.2 In the face of their indignant denials, la Voisin repeated all she had earlier said, refusing to withdraw any of her accusations. Mme Leféron insisted that she had been slandered, recalling that when la Voisin had first told her she saw death marked in her hand, she had assumed it was her own demise that was imminent rather than her husband’s. She raged that now la Voisin was taking advantage of her misfortune to insult her and was not at all mollified when la Voisin began weeping. Furiously Mme Leféron sneered that la Voisin was only crying in the hope of investing her claims with a spurious credibility. With dignity la Voisin answered that she had been moved to tears because God had excited in her an awareness of her faults.
La Voisin had declared that it pained her to betray her clients in this way, but her revelations did not end here. On 16 September 1679 Louvois excitedly informed the King, ‘La Voisin’s really beginning to talk.’3 The statements she had made the day before precipitated the inquiry into a new phase as, for the first time, she had mentioned the name of the Duchesse de Vivonne, sister-in-law of Mme de Montespan. The precise allegations la Voisin made against her are unclear, as the record of that interrogation is missing. However, from Louvois’s account it would seem la Voisin stated that Mme de Vivonne had wanted to kill her husband and that she had applied to the magician Lesage for help with this matter.
* * *
La Voisin’s allegations ensured that attention focused more closely on Lesage who had been arrested on 17 March after Marie Bosse had described him as a dangerous man who put ‘wholly pernicious’ ideas in women�
�s minds.4 Initially he had been regarded as a figure of secondary importance but now this extraordinary individual assumed a much more prominent role in the inquiry. At times, indeed, he came close to dominating it.
The real name of the self-styled Lesage (‘the wise one’) was Adam du Coeuret and he came from Normandy. Now aged nearly fifty, he was physically a far from imposing figure. He habitually wore grey, with a reddish wig providing the only touch of colour,5 but his drab appearance did not detract from his charisma. He described himself as a wool merchant, but though he had occasionally invested money in speculative ventures in the cloth trade, his primary means of making a living had never been commerce.
Lesage had already had an eventful career. He had first come to Paris in the late 1660s, though at that time he called himself Dubuisson. Before long he had met up with la Voisin and become her lover, forming such a close attachment to her that he had even attempted to send her husband into a fatal decline by burying a sheep’s heart in her garden. In 1667 la Voisin had introduced him to François Mariette, a twenty-seven-year-old priest who proved a willing collaborator. For a time the trio had worked in partnership, with la Voisin providing the two men with a steady flow of customers. After a bit, however, Mariette and Lesage had decided they could make more money by operating independently. To la Voisin’s chagrin, her business began to suffer as they enticed clients away from her. Furious at this betrayal, la Voisin engaged in angry recriminations, but this merely attracted unwelcome attention to the activities of Mariette and Lesage, and in March 1668 the pair were arrested.
That June they were tried at the Châtelet and the following September their appeals were heard by Parlement. They were charged with the serious offence of committing impieties but unfortunately the records of their trial are not very informative about the evidence gathered against them. Lesage was asked whether he had said prayers over the corpses of flayed frogs, but he denied this, saying he had only ever used frogs to create an oil to whiten the complexion. Mariette admitted that clients had visited him in his lodgings and that he had recited extracts from the gospels over their heads as they knelt before him. While this sounded innocuous, the suspicion may have been that he was quoting scripture backwards, an inversion of holy writ that was thought to be pleasing to the devil. He confessed, too, that he had conferred benedictions on certain books and perhaps this included a volume of incantations called the Enchiridon, which featured as an exhibit at Lesage’s trial. Mariette was also asked whether he had passed notes under a chalice, another way in which orthodox Christian ritual could be adapted for illegitimate purposes.6 At the time he said he had not but years later, when these events came under fresh scrutiny, he agreed that he had performed that and other deviant practices. With hindsight, however, the most striking thing to emerge from the hearings was that Mariette told the court at the Châtelet that the Marquise de Montespan (who had either just embarked on her affair with Louis XIV, or was on the verge of becoming his mistress) was a client of his.
The Affair of the Poisons: Murder, Infanticide, and Satanism at the Court of Louis XIV Page 25