Chapter IV: Part 4

Sainte Croix, when preparing poison, was accustomed to wear a glass mask; but as this once happened to drop off by accident, he was suffocated, and found dead in his laboratory. Government caused the effects of this man, who had no family, to be examined, and a list of them to be made out. On searching them, there was found a small box, to which Sainte Croix had affixed a written request, that after his death it might be delivered to the Marchioness de Brinvillier, or in case she should not be living, that it might be burnt[126]. Nothing could be a greater inducement to have it opened than this singular petition; and that being done, there was found in it a great abundance of poisons of every kind, with labels on which their effects, proved by experiments made on animals, were marked. When the marchioness heard of the death of her lover and instructor, she was desirous to have the casket, and endeavoured to get possession of it, by bribing the officers of justice; but as she failed in this, she quitted the kingdom. La Chaussée, however, continued at Paris, laid claim to the property of Sainte Croix, was seized and imprisoned, confessed more acts of villany than were suspected, and was in consequence broke alive on the wheel in 1673.

A very active officer of justice, named Desgrais, was despatched in search of the Marchioness de Brinvillier, who was found in a convent at Liège, to which she had fled from England. To entice her from this privileged place, which folly had consecrated for the protection of vice, Desgrais assumed the dress of an abbé, found means to get acquainted with her, acted the part of a lover, and, having engaged her to go out on an excursion of pleasure, arrested her. Among her effects at the convent, there was found a confession, written by her own hand, which contained a complete catalogue of her crimes. She there acknowledged that she had set fire to houses, and that she had occasioned the death of more persons than any one ever suspected. She remarked also, that she had continued a virgin only till the seventh year of her age. Notwithstanding all the craft which she employed to escape, she was conveyed to Paris, where she at first denied everything; and, when in prison, she played picquet to pass away the time. She was however convicted, brought to a confession of her enormities, became a convert, as her confessor termed it, and went with much firmness to the place of execution, on the 16th of July, 1676; where, when she beheld the multitude of the spectators, she exclaimed in a contemptuous manner, “You have come to see a fine spectacle!” She was beheaded and afterwards burnt; a punishment too mild for such an offender[127]. As she had been amused with some hopes of a pardon, on account of her relations, when she mounted the scaffold, she cried out, “_C’est donc tout de bon!_[128]”

Among a number of persons suspected of being concerned in this affair, was a German apothecary, named Glaser, who on account of his knowledge in chemistry, was intimate with Exili and Sainte Croix. From him they had both procured the materials which they used, and he was some years confined in the Bastille; but the charge against him being more minutely investigated, he was declared innocent, and set at liberty. He was the author of a Treatise on Chemistry, printed at Paris in 1667, and reprinted afterwards at Brussels in 1676, and at Lyons in 1679.

By the execution of this French Medea, the practice of poisoning was not suppressed; many persons died from time to time under very suspicious circumstances; and the archbishop was informed from different parishes that this crime was still confessed, and that traces of it were remarked both in high and in low families. For watching, searching after, and punishing poisoners, a particular court, called the _Chambre de Poison_ or _Chambre ardente_, was at length established in 1679. This court, besides other persons, detected two women named La Vigoreux and La Voisin[129], who carried on a great traffic in poisons. The latter was a midwife. Both of them pretended to foretell future events, to call up ghosts, and to teach the art of finding hidden treasures, and of recovering lost or stolen goods. They also distributed philtres, and sold secret poison to such persons as they knew they could depend upon, and who wished to employ them either to get rid of bad husbands, or recover lost lovers. Female curiosity induced several ladies of the first rank, and even some belonging to the court, to visit these women, particularly La Voisin; and who, without thinking of poison, only wished to know how soon a husband, a lover, the king or his mistress, would die. In the possession of La Voisin was found a list of all those who had become dupes to her imposture. They were arrested and carried before the above-mentioned court, which, without following the usual course of justice, detected secret crimes by means of spies, instituted private trials, and began to imitate the proceedings of the holy inquisition. In this list were found the distinguished names of the Countess de Soissons, her sister the Duchess de Bouillon, and Marshal de Luxembourg. The first fled to Flanders to avoid the severity and disgrace of imprisonment; the second saved herself by the help of her friends; and the last, after he had been some months in the Bastille, and had undergone a strict examination, by which he almost lost his reputation, was set at liberty as innocent. Thus did the cruel Louvois the war minister, and the Marchioness de Montespan, ruin those who opposed their measures. La Vigoreux and La Voisin were burnt alive on the 22nd of February 1680, after their hands had been bored through with a red-hot iron and cut off. Several persons of ordinary rank were punished by the common hangman; those of higher rank, after they had been declared by this tribunal not guilty, were set at liberty; and in 1680 an end was put to the _Chambre ardente_, which in reality was a political inquisition.

It is certain that notwithstanding such punishments, like crimes have given occasion to unjust succession both in Italy and in France, and that attempts have been made for the same purpose even in the northern kingdoms. It is known that in Denmark Count Corfitz de Ulfeld was guilty, though it was not proved, of having intended to give the king a poison, which should gradually destroy him like a lethargy[130]. Charles XI. also, king of Sweden, died by the effects of such a poison. Having ruined several noble families by seizing on their property, and having after that made a journey to Torneo, he fell into a consumptive disorder which no medicine could cure. One day he asked his physician in a very earnest manner, what was the cause of his illness? The physician replied, “Your majesty has been loaded with too many maledictions.” “Yes,” returned the king, “I wish to God that the reduction of the nobility’s estates had not taken place, and that I had never undertaken a journey to Torneo!” After his death his intestines were found to be full of small ulcers[131].

The oftener poisoning in this manner happens, the more it is to be wished that preventives and antidotes were found out, and that the symptoms were ascertained; but this is hardly possible as long as it is not known of what the poison properly consists. Governments, however, have wisely endeavoured to conceal the recipes, by suppressing the criminal procedures. Pope Alexander VII. caused them to be shut up in the castle of St. Angelo; in France, it is said, they were burnt together with the criminals; in Naples only the same precaution was not taken. I do not know that observations on the bodies of persons destroyed by slow poison have been ever published; for what Pitaval says on that subject is not sufficient[132]. People talk of powders and pills, but the greater part of this kind of poison appears to be a clear insipid water, and that prepared by Tophania never once betrayed itself by any particular effects on the body. The sale of aqua-fortis was a long time forbidden at Rome, because it was considered as the principal ingredient; but this is very improbable. At Paris it was once believed that succession powder consisted of diamond dust pounded exceedingly fine. Without assenting to this idea, one may contradict Voltaire, who conceives that diamond dust is not more prejudicial than powder of coral. It may be rather compared to that fine sand which is rubbed off from our mill-stones, and which we should consider and guard against as a secret poison, were we not highly negligent and careless of our health in the use of food[133]. In the casket of Sainte Croix were found corrosive sublimate, opium, regulus of antimony, vitriol, and a large quantity of poison ready prepared, the principal ingredients of which the physicians were not able to distinguish. Many have affirmed that sugar of lead was the chief ingredient[134]; but the consequences of the poison did not seem to indicate the use of that metal. For some years past a harmless plant, which is only somewhat bitter and astringent, the ivy-leaved Toadflax (_Linaria Cymbalaria_), that grows on old walls, has been loaded with the opprobrium of producing this slow poison, while at the same time it has been celebrated by others on account of its medicinal properties; but it is perhaps not powerful enough to do either mischief or good; and it is probable that it has been added to poisons either through ignorance, or to conceal other ingredients; for the emperor Charles VI., who was king of the Two Sicilies at the time when Tophania was arrested, told his physician Garelli, who communicated the same in a letter[135] to the celebrated Hoffmann, in 1718 or 1719, that the poison of that Italian Circe was composed of an arsenical oxide, dissolved in _aqua cymbalariæ_, and which I suppose was rendered stronger and more difficult to be detected by a salt that may be readily guessed. It is dreadful to think that this secret poison is administered as a febrifuge by ignorant or unprincipled physicians, quacks, and old women. It drives off obstinate fevers, it is true; but it is equally certain that it hastens death: it is therefore a cure, which is far worse than the disease, and against which governments and physicians cannot exclaim too severely. It was remarked at Rome, by accident, that lemon juice and the acid of lemons are, in some measure, counter-poisons; and a physician named Paul Branchaletti, respecting whom I can find no information, wrote a book expressly on this antidote to these drops, according to the account of Keysler, who however adds, “Everything hitherto found out, supposes that one has taken the drops only for a short time, or that one has had an opportunity to be upon one’s guard when suspicious circumstances occurred, and to discover the threatened danger.”

It seems to be almost certain that the poisons prepared by Tophania and Brinvillier were arsenical mixtures, or, as Dr. Hahneman[136] rightly conjectures, neutral salts of arsenic. Loss of appetite, faintness, gnawing pains in the stomach, loss of strength without any visible cause, a continual indisposition, followed by a wasting of the viscera, a slow fever, &c., are all symptoms which seem to announce that dangerous metallic oxide. The opinion, however, that it was composed of opium and cantharides has, in latter times, received so many confirmations, that one is almost induced to believe that there are more kinds than one of this Stygian water. The information given by the abbé Gagliani, seems to carry too much weight with it to be denied[137]. It is confirmed also by M. Archenholz[138]; but what he says of the use made of Spanish flies, by the Chinese, to invigorate the sixth sense, gives reason to suspect that his voucher is _L’Espion Dévalisé_, to whom the abbé Gagliani ascribes the same words. It appears to me, however, if I may be allowed to judge from probabilities, that the poison known in the East Indies under the name of _powst_ is also water which has stood a night over the juice of poppies. It is given in the morning fasting to those persons, and particularly princes, whom people wish to despatch privately, and without much violence. It consumes them slowly, so that they at length lose all their strength and understanding, and in the end die torpid and insensible[139].

[Chemical science has made such rapid progress of late years, that there are but few, if any, poisonous substances which cannot be detected with certainty. The improved state of our medical knowledge, and the institution of coroners’ inquests in all cases where any suspicion of the cause of death occurs, fortunately renders secret poisoning almost, if not quite impossible, at least in this country.]

FOOTNOTES

[103] Heberden in the Neue Hamburg. Mag. xvii. p. 219. I am convinced that many of the accounts we have of the extraordinary effects of poison are fabricated, like those mentioned in Frid. Hoffmanni Dissert. de Læsionibus externis, abortivis Venenis ac Philtris. Francof. 1729, et recusa Lips. 1755. That author, however, denies some which are true. It is, for example, certain that camphor and rue do not produce the effects ascribed to them by Dioscorides, Paulus Ægineta, and others; but there are without doubt other substances which will produce these effects.

[104] Sennerti Instit. Med. ii. 2, 12.

[105] He gave to Aratus a poison, not speedy and violent, but of that kind which at first occasions a slow heat in the body, with a slight cough, and then gradually brings on a consumption. One time, when Aratus spat up blood, he said, “This is the effect of royal friendship.” See Plutarch, Vit. Arati.

[106] Quint. Declamat. xvii. 11.

[107] With the poison of the Indians, however, the ancients could not be acquainted, as it is prepared from a plant unknown in Europe before the discovery of America. Kalm, in his Travels, does not name it, and in that he has done right; for, as the plant is now to be found everywhere, no government could guard against a misapplication of it, were it publicly known.

[108] They say a poison can be prepared from aconite so as to occasion death within a certain period, such as two, three, or six months, a year, and even sometimes two years. Those, we are told, whose constitutions are able to hold out longest, die in the greatest misery; for the body is gradually consumed, and must perish by continual wasting. Those die easiest who die speedily. No remedy has been found out for this poison.--Theophr. Hist. Plant. ix. c. 16.

[109] Livius, lib. viii. c. 18.

[110] Taciti Annal. lib. iv. c. 8.

[111] The account given by Tacitus deserves to be read; see lib. xii. c. 66.

[112] The history of this horrid affair may be found both in Tacitus, Annal. xiii. c. 15 and 16, and in Suetonius, vi. cap. 33. Respecting Locusta, see also Juvenal, sat. i. 71.

[113] This account is given by Aulus Gellius from the now lost works of Tuditanus.--Noct. At. lib. vi. cap. 4. Cicero often speaks of the magnanimity of Regulus; as, for example, in his Oration against Piso, and in his Offices, book iii. chap. 27; but he makes no mention of his having been poisoned. Valerius Maximus also, book i. chap. i. 14, says nothing of poison.

[114] Apollonii Vit. lib. vi. c. 14.

[115] Histor. Animal. lib. ii. c. 45.

[116] Lib. ix. c. 48, and lib. xxxii. c. 1.

[117] In Linnæi Systema Nat., through an error of the press, stands _Laplysia_, which word has since become common. Ἀπλυσία signifies an uncleanness which cannot be washed off; and in Aristotle’s History of Animals, b. v. ch. 15, and Pliny, b. ix. ch. 45, it is the name of a zoophyte. In the like manner other errors in the System of Linnæus have been copied into the works of others, such as _Dytiscus_ instead of _Dyticus_, &c.

[118] J. B. Bohadsch De quibusdam animalibus marinis. Dresdæ, 1761, 4to, p. 1-53. In this work there is a full description, with a figure of this animal, under the name of _Lernæa_, which was used in the first editions of Linnæus.

[119] The accounts given by the ancients of the sea-hare have been collected in Grevini Lib. de Venenis, Antverpiæ 1571, p. 209. In the Annals of Glycas, iii. (_Script. Byz._), it is said that Titus was despatched by this poison; and in the first book, b. 27, he says the sea-hare occasions speedy and inevitable destruction to man.

[120] See Stenzelii Diss. de venenis terminatis et temporaneis, quæ Galli _les poudres de succession_ vocant; resp. J. G. Arnold. Vitebergæ, 1730. This tract contains several historical relations; but the reader is often referred to authors who either do not say that for which they were quoted, or who must relate the same thing in a different manner in some other place. As for example, Galen in b. ii. c. 7, De Antidotis, speaks of poisons without mentioning secret poison in particular. Avicenna is made to say, in his book De Viribus Cordis, that the Egyptian kings often employed this poison; but if by that quotation we are to understand Fen. undecima de dispositionibus cordis, I have sought for this information in vain. In lib. iv. fen. 6. tract. 2. c. 14, it is said “Fel canis aquatici interficit post hebdomadam.” Rhodiginus also does not relate that for which he is quoted by Stenzel. p. 7.

[121] Vol. iv. p. 33.

[122] J. F. le Bret, Magazin zum Gebrauche der Staaten und-Kirchen-Geschichte, part iv. Francf. and Leips. 1774, 8vo, p. 131-141.

[123] The following account is collected from Causes celèbres, par M. Guyot de Pitaval, tome i.--Lettres de Mad. de Sevigné, tome iv.--Histoire du Règne de Louis XIV., par M. de Reboulet. Avignon, 1746, v. p. 159.--Histoire de Louis XIV., par M. B. de la Martinière, 1740, iv. p. 229.--Le Siècle de Louis XIV., par Voltaire, etc.

[124] Voltaire says that the father did not get Sainte Croix thrown into the Bastille, but sent to his regiment. This however is not the case, for this reprobate was at that time not in the army.

[125] This circumstance is denied by Voltaire, but only, as appears, to contradict Pitaval, whom he calls _un avocat sans cause_.

[126] This request was as follows:--“I humbly beg that those into whose hands this box may fall, will do me the favour to deliver it into the hands only of the Marchioness de Brinvillier, who resides in the Rue Neuve Saint Paul, as everything it contains concerns her, and belongs to her alone; and as, besides, there is nothing in it that can be of use to any persons except her; and in case she shall be dead before me, to burn it, and everything it contains, without opening or altering anything; and in order that no one may plead ignorance, I swear by the God whom I adore, and by all that is most sacred, that I advance nothing but what is true. And if my intentions, just and reasonable as they are, be thwarted in this point, I charge their consciences with it, both in this world and the next, in order that I may unload mine, protesting that this is my last will. Done at Paris this 25th of May in the afternoon, 1672.

“DE SAINTE CROIX.”

[127] Martinière says that she was burnt alive, together with all the papers respecting her trial. The latter is improbable, and the former certainly false, notwithstanding the account given in the Encyclopédie.

[128] The following description of Brinvillier may perhaps be of use to our physiognomists:--“In order to satisfy the curiosity of those who may be desirous of knowing if such a celebrated criminal partook of the beauties of her sex, I shall observe that nature had not been sparing of them to the marchioness; her features were exceedingly regular, and the form of her face, which was round, was very graceful. This beautiful outside concealed a heart extremely black. Nothing proves more that _metoposcopy_, or the science of physiognomy, is false; for this lady had that serene and tranquil air which announces virtue.”--Pitaval, p. 269.

[129] Some information respecting La Voisin may be found in Lettres Historiques et Galantes par Madame de C----. A Cologne, 1709-1711, 4 vols. 12mo, ii. p. 101, and iv. p. 376. The authoress of these letters was Mad. du Noyer.

[130] Leben des Grafen von Ulfeld, von H. P. aus dem Dänischen übersetzt. Copenhagen und Leipzig, 1775, 8vo, p. 200.

[131] This anecdote was told to me by the celebrated Linnæus. An account of what appeared on opening the body of this prince may be seen in Baldinger’s Neues Magazin für Aerzte, vol. i. p. 91.

[132] “The lieutenant-civil continued still to grow worse. After having languished a long time, being seized with a loathing of every kind of food presented to him, his vomitings still continuing, and nature being at length exhausted, he expired without any fever. The three last days he had wasted very much; he was become extremely shrunk, and he felt a great heat in his stomach. When opened, that part and the duodenum were found to be black, and sloughing off in pieces; the liver was mortified, and as it were burnt. The counsellor was ill three months, had the like symptoms as the lieutenant-civil, and died in the same manner. When opened, his stomach and liver were found in a similar state.”--pp. 274, 275.

[133] In one year a ton of sand, at least, which is baked with the flour, is rubbed off from a pair of mill-stones. If a mill grinds only 4385 bushels annually, and one allows no more than twelve bushels to one man, a person swallows in a year above six pounds, and in a month half a pound of pulverized sandstone, which, in the course of a long life, will amount to upwards of three hundred weight. Is not this sufficient to make governments more attentive to this circumstance?

[Although not very agreeable to the reader to learn that he swallows above six pounds of mill-stone powder in the course of the year, it may perhaps ease his mind to know that the learned author is entirely mistaken in regarding it as a poison. The inhabitants of the northern countries of Europe frequently mix quartz powder with their heavy food to assist in its digestion; and we are informed by Professor Ehrenberg, that in times of scarcity, the inhabitants of Lapland mix the siliceous shells of some species of fossil Infusoria with the ground bark of trees for food. It is probably from this circumstance that the infusorial deposit derives its name of _Berg-mehl_, or _Mountain-meal_.]

[134] For the following important information I am indebted to Professor Baldinger:--“There is no doubt that the slow poison of the French and Italians, commonly called succession powder (_poudre de la succession_), owes its origin to sugar of lead. I know a chemist who superintends the laboratory of a certain prince on the confines of Bohemia, and who by the orders (perhaps not very laudable) of his patron, has spent much time and labour in strengthening and moderating poisons. He has often declared, that of sugar of lead, with the addition of some more volatile corrosive, a very slow poison could be prepared; which, if swallowed by a dog or other animal, would insensibly destroy it, without any violent symptoms, in the course of some weeks or months.”

[135] Garelli, the emperor’s principal physician, lately wrote to me something remarkable in the following words:--“Your elegant dissertation on the errors respecting poisons brought to my recollection a certain slow poison, which that infamous poisoner, still alive in prison at Naples, employed to the destruction of upwards of six hundred persons. It was nothing else than crystallised arsenic, dissolved in a large quantity of water by decoction, with the addition, but for what purpose I know not, of the herb cymbalaria. This was communicated to me by his imperial majesty himself, to whom the judicial procedure, confirmed by the confession of the criminal, was transmitted. This water, in the Neapolitan dialect, is called _aqua del Toffnina_. It is certain death, and many have fallen a sacrifice to it.”--Hoffmanni Med. Rationalis System., p. ii. c. 2. § 19.

[136] Ueber die Arsenikvergiftung. Leips. 1786, 8vo, p. 35.

[137] On the 20th of December, 1765, died the dauphin, father of Louis XVI., and in 1767 died the dauphiness. It was a public report that they were both despatched by secret poison: and the gradual decline of their health, the other circumstances which accompanied their illness, and the cabals which then existed at court, make this at least not improbable. Many private anecdotes respecting these events may be found in a book entitled L’Espion Dévalisé. Feliciter audax. London, 1782. In page 61 it is said, that on account of the suspicions then entertained, it was wished that information might be procured respecting secret poison, and the methods of preparing it; and that the abbé Gagliani, well known as a writer, has given the following:--“It is certain that in Europe the preparation of these drugs renders them pernicious and mortal. For example, at Naples the mixture of opium and cantharides, in known doses, is a slow poison; the surest of all, and the more infallible as one cannot mistrust it. At first it is given in small doses, that its effects may be insensible. In Italy we call it _aqua di Tufania_, Tufania water. No one can avoid its attacks, because the liquor obtained from that composition is as limpid as rock water, and without taste. Its effects are slow and almost imperceptible: a few drops of it only are poured into tea, chocolate, or soup, &c. There is not a lady at Naples who has not some of it lying carelessly on her toilette with her smelling-bottles. She alone knows the phial, and can distinguish it. Even the waiting-woman, who is her confidant, is not in the secret, and takes this phial for distilled water, or water obtained by precipitation, which is the purest, and which is used to moderate perfumes when they are too strong.

“The effects of this poison are very simple. A general indisposition is at first felt in the whole frame. The physician examines you, and perceiving no symptoms of disease, either external or internal, no obstructions, no collection of humours, no inflammations, orders detergents, regimen, and evacuation. The dose of poison is then doubled, and the same indisposition continues without being more characterized. The physician, who can see in this nothing extraordinary, ascribes the state of the patient to viscous and peccant humours, which have not been sufficiently carried off by the first evacuation. He orders a second--a third dose--a third evacuation--a fourth dose. The physician then sees that the disease has escaped him; that he has mistaken it, and that the cause of it cannot be discovered but by changing the regimen. He orders the waters, &c. In a word, the noble parts lose their tone, become relaxed and affected, and the lungs particularly, as the most delicate of all, and one of those most employed in the functions of the animal œconomy. The first illness then carries you off; because the critical accumulation settles always on the weak part, and consequently on the lobes of the lungs; the pus there fixes itself, and the disease becomes incurable. By this method they follow one as long as they choose for months, and for years. Robust constitutions resist a long time. In short, it is not the liquor alone that kills, it is rather the different remedies, which alter and then destroy the temperament, exhaust the strength, extenuate and render one incapable of supporting the first indisposition that comes.”

[138] England und Italien, ii. p. 354.

[139] Universal History, xxiii. p. 299-323.--The information contained there is taken from Fraser’s History of Nadir Shah. Aurengzebe also caused one of his sons to be put to death by this poison.

WOODEN BELLOWS.

After the discovery of fire, the first instrument employed to blow it and strengthen it, has undoubtedly been a hollow reed, until the art was found out of forming a stick into a pipe by boring it. Our common bellows, which consist of two boards joined together by a piece of leather, and which probably are an imitation of the lungs, appear to have been early known to the Greeks. I have, however, met with no passage in any ancient author from which I could learn the oldest construction of this machine, which in latter times has received many improvements. Had I found such information, I should have endeavoured to explain it, as it would have contributed to enlarge the knowledge we have of the metallurgy of the ancients.

It may be remarked on the following lines of Virgil,

... Alii taurinis follibus auras
Accipiunt redduntque[140]....

that bull’s leather is unfit for bellows, and that ox or cow leather only can be used for that purpose; but accuracy is not to be expected in a poet; and besides, Virgil is not the only author who employs the expression _folles taurinos_; for Plautus says also, “Quam folles taurini habent, cum liquescunt petræ, ferrum ubi fit.”

Strabo[141] tells us, from an old historian, that Anacharsis, the Scythian philosopher, who lived in the time of Solon, invented the bellows, the anchor, and the potter’s wheel: but this account is very doubtful, as Pliny, Seneca[142], Diogenes Laërtius[143], and Suidas, who likewise speak of the inventions ascribed to that philosopher, mention only the last two, and not the bellows: besides, Strabo himself remarks that the potter’s wheel is noticed in Homer, and this poet is certainly older than Anacharsis. The latter, perhaps, became acquainted with that useful instrument during the course of his travels, and on his return, made his countrymen first acquainted with it. However this may be, it is well known that the person who introduces a foreign invention among a people, is often considered as the author of it.

In the oldest smelting-houses the bellows were worked by men. Refuse, therefore, and other remains of metal, are often found in places where until a recent period no works could be erected, on account of the want of water.

Bellows made with leather, of which I have hitherto spoken, are attended with many inconveniences. They require careful management; are expensive in their repairs; and besides last often not more than six or seven years. If thin leather is employed, it suffers a great deal of the air to escape through it; an evil which must be guarded against by continually besmearing it with train-oil, or other fat substances; and this is even necessary when thick leather is used, to prevent it from cracking in the folds. Damage by fire and water must also be avoided; and every time they are repaired, the leather must be again softened with oil, which occasions a considerable loss of time.

In wooden bellows these inconveniences are partly lessened, and partly remedied. As these bellows, except the pipe, consist entirely of wood, many, who are not acquainted with the construction of them, can hardly conceive the possibility of making such a machine. Though they cannot be properly described without a figure, I shall endeavour to give the reader some idea of them by the following short sketch. The whole machine consists of two boxes placed the one upon the other, the uppermost of which can be moved up and down upon the lower one, in the same manner as the lid of a snuff-box, which has a hinge, moves up and down when it is opened or shut; but the sides of the uppermost box are so broad as to contain the lower one between them, when it is raised to its utmost extent. Both boxes are bound together, at the smallest end, where the pipe is, by a strong iron bolt. It may be readily comprehended, that when both boxes fit each other exactly, and the upper one is raised over the under one, which is in a state of rest, the space contained by both will be increased; and consequently more air will rush in through the valve in the bottom of the lower one; and when the upper box is again forced down, this air will be expelled through the pipe. The only difficulty is to prevent the air, which forces its way in, from escaping anywhere else than through the pipe; for it is not to be expected that the boxes will fit each other so closely as to prevent entirely the air from making its way between them. This difficulty, however, is obviated by the following simple and ingenious method. On the inner sides of the uppermost box there are placed moveable slips of wood, which, by means of metal springs, are pressed to the sides of the other box, and fill up the space between them. As these long slips of wood might not be sufficiently pliable to suffer themselves to be pressed close enough, and as, though planed perfectly straight at first, they would in time become warped in various directions, incisions are made in them across through their whole length, at the distance of from fifteen to eighteen inches from each other, so as to leave only a small space in their thickness, by which means they acquire sufficient pliability to be everywhere pressed close enough to the sides[144].

The advantages of these wooden bellows are very great. When made of clean fir-wood without knots, they will last thirty or forty years, and even longer, though continually kept in action forty-six or forty-eight weeks every year: nay, Polhem assures us, that, when properly made, they will last a century. The effect produced by them is stronger, as well as more uniform, and can be moderated according to circumstances. They are worked also with greater facility. The slips of wood on their sides are apt to become damaged; but they can soon and easily be repaired. Every three or four months, however, the outer sides only of the inner box, and the bolt which keeps the boxes together, must be smeared with oil. If we reckon up the price of such bellows, and the yearly expense, they will, according to Grignon’s account, be only a fifth part of those of the old leather bellows.

That the invention of these wooden bellows belongs to the Germans, is certain. Grignon[145] expressly affirms so; and in Becher’s[146] time they were to be found in Germany, but not in England. Genssane, who ascribes the invention to the Swiss, is certainly mistaken; and perhaps he was led into this error, because these bellows were first made known in France by a Swiss. I cannot, however, ascertain the name of the real inventor. In the middle of the sixteenth century lived at Nuremberg an artist called Hans Lobsinger, who, in the year 1550, gave to the magistrates of that city a catalogue of his machines. From this catalogue Doppelmayer concludes that he understood the art of making small and large bellows without leather, and entirely of wood, which could be used in smelting-houses and for organs, and likewise copper bellows that always emitted a like degree of wind. As Lobsinger made organs, he, perhaps, fell upon this invention; but in what it actually consisted, or whether it might not have died with him, I have not been able to learn. Agricola, who died in the year 1555, makes no mention of wooden bellows.

Samuel Reyher, formerly professor at Kiel, in a dissertation on air[147], printed there in 1669, tells us, that about forty years before that period, two brothers, Martin and Nicholas Schelhorn, millers at the village of Schmalebuche in Coburg, first invented wooden bellows. Both the brothers, he says, kept the invention secret, though he thinks they did not conceal it so closely as to prevent its being guessed at; and he relates also how he himself formed an idea of it[148].

To these bellows Schluter has assigned a much nobler inventor, who, perhaps, was the first person who made them known by a description. He says expressly that they were invented by a bishop of Bamberg[149]: but of this I have been able to find no confirmation; and I am inclined to ascribe that service rather to an organ-builder, or a miller, than to a bishop. According to Schluter’s account, these bellows were employed so early as the year 1620, in the Harz forest, to which they were first brought by some people from Bamberg. What Calvor says respecting the introduction of these bellows into the Harz forest is much more probable; that in the year 1621 Lewis Pfannenschmid, from Thuringia, settled at Ostfeld near Goslar, and began to make wooden bellows. The bellows-makers of that place conspired therefore against him, and swore they would put him to death; but he was protected by the government. He would disclose his art to no one but his son, who, as well as his grandson a few years ago, had the making of all the bellows in the forest.

We are told by French authors, that the art of making these bellows was introduced into France, particularly into Berry, Nivernois, and Franche Comté, by a German.

FOOTNOTES

[140] Georg. iv. 171.

[141] Lib. vii.

[142] Epist. 90.

[143] Lib. i. 8.

[144] A complete description and a figure of these bellows may be found in Schluter’s Unterricht von Hütten-werken. Brunswick, 1738.--Traité de la fonte des mines par le feu du charbon de terre; par M. de Genssane. Paris, 1770, 2 vols. 4to. [Ure’s Dictionary, p. 1128, also contains an excellent figure of these wooden bellows.]

[145] “Germany is the country of machines. In general the Germans lessen manual labour considerably by machines adapted to every kind of movement; not that we are destitute of able mechanics; we have the talent of bringing to perfection the machines invented by our neighbours.”--P. 200. [This remark of Grignon will sound rather odd to English ears.]

[146] Becher’s Narrische Weisheit und weise Narrheit. Frankfort, 1683, 12mo, p. 113.

[147] In this dissertation, the time of the invention is stated to be about forty years before, which would be the year 1629 or 1630; but in an improved edition, printed with additions at Hamburg, in 1725, a different period is given. “About eighty years ago,” says the author, “a new kind of bellows, which ought rather to be called the pneumatic chests, was invented in the village of Schmalebuche, in the principality of Coburg, in Franconia. Two brothers, millers in that village, Martin and Nicholas Schelhorn, by means of some box made by them, the lid of which fitted very exactly, found out these chests, as I was told by one of their friends, a man worthy of credit. These chests are not of leather, but entirely of wood joined together with iron nails. In blacksmiths’ shops they are preferred to those constructed with leather, because they emit a stronger blast, as leather suffers the more subtile part of the air to escape through its pores.”

[148] In many places these bellows were at first put in a wooden case, to prevent their construction from being known.

[149] In J. P. Ludewig, Scriptores Rerum Episcopatus Bambergensis. Francof. 1718, fol. Where any bishop of latter times is praised, I find no mention of this useful and ingenious invention.

COACHES.

If by this name we are to understand every kind of covered carriage in which one can with convenience travel, there is no doubt that some of them were known to the ancients. The _arcera_, of which mention is made in the twelve tables, was a covered carriage used by sick and infirm persons[150]. It appears to have been employed earlier than the soft _lectica_, and by it to have been brought into disuse. A later invention is the _carpentum_, the form of which may be seen on antique coins, where it is represented as a two-wheeled car with an arched covering, and which was sometimes hung with costly cloth[151]. Still later were introduced the _carrucæ_, first mentioned by Pliny; but so little is known of them, that antiquaries are uncertain whether they had only one wheel, like our wheelbarrows, or, as is more probable, four wheels. This much, however, is known, that they were first-rate vehicles, ornamented with gold and precious stones, and that the Romans considered it as an honour to ride in those that were remarkably high[152]. In the Theodosian code the use of them is not only allowed to civil and military officers of the first rank, but commanded as a mark of their dignity[153].

After this, covered carriages seem more and more to have become appendages of Roman pomp and magnificence; but the manner of thinking which prevailed under the feudal system banished the use of them for some time. As it was of the greatest importance to the feudal lords that their vassals should be always able to serve them on horseback, they could not think of indulging them with elegant carriages. They foresaw that by such luxury the nobility would give over riding on horseback, and become much more indolent and less fit for military service. Masters and servants, husbands and wives, clergy and laity, all rode upon horses or mules, and sometimes women and monks upon she-asses, which they found more convenient. The minister rode to court, and the horse, without any conductor, returned alone to his stable, till a servant carried him back to court to fetch his master. In this manner the magistrates of the imperial cities rode to council in the beginning of the sixteenth century; so that in the year 1502 steps to assist in mounting were erected by the Roman gate at Frankfort[154]. The members of the council who, at the diet and on other occasions, were employed as ambassadors, were on this account called _Rittmeister_; and even at present the expression _riding servant_ is preserved in some of the imperial cities. The public entry of great lords into any place, or their departure from it, was never in a carriage, but on horseback; and in all the works which speak of the papal ceremonies there is no mention of a state coach or body coachmen, but of state horses or state mules. It was necessary that a horse for his holiness should be of a gray colour; not mettlesome however, but a quiet, tractable nag; that a stool with three steps should be brought to assist him to mount, and the emperor and kings, if present, were obliged to hold his stirrup and to lead the horse[155], &c. Bishops made their public entrance on horses or asses richly decorated[156]. At the coronation of the emperor, the electors and principal officers of the empire were ordered to make their entrance on horses, and to perform their service on horseback[157]. Formerly it was requisite that those who received an investiture should make their appearance on horseback: the vassal was obliged to ride with two attendants to his lord’s court, where, having dismounted from his horse, he received his fief.

Covered carriages were known in the beginning of the sixteenth century; but they were used only by women of the first rank, for the men thought it disgraceful to ride in them. At that period, when the electors and princes did not choose to be present at the meetings of the states, they excused themselves by informing the emperor that their health would not permit them to ride on horseback; and it was considered as an established point, that it was unbecoming for them to ride like women[158]. What, according to the then prevailing ideas, was not allowed to princes, was much less permitted to their servants. In the year 1544, when Count Wolf of Barby was summoned by John Frederic, elector of Saxony, to go to Spires to attend the convention of the states assembled there, he requested leave, on account of his ill state of health, to make use of a close carriage with four horses. When the counts and nobility were invited to the marriage solemnity of the elector’s half brother, duke John Ernest, the invitation was accompanied with a memorandum, that such dresses of ceremony as they might be desirous of taking with them should be transported in a small waggon[159]. Had they been expected in coaches, such a memorandum would have been superfluous. The use of covered carriages was for a long time forbidden even to women. In the year 1545 the wife of a certain duke obtained from him, with great difficulty, permission to use a covered carriage in a journey to the baths, in which however much pomp was displayed, but with this express stipulation, that her attendants should not have the same indulgence[160]. It is nevertheless certain, that the emperor, kings and princes, about the end of the fifteenth century, began to employ covered carriages on journeys, and afterwards on public solemnities.

In the year 1474 the emperor Frederic III. came to Frankfort in a close carriage; and as he remained in it on account of the wetness of the weather, the inhabitants had no occasion to support the canopy which was held over him, but while he went to the council-house, and again returned. In the year following the emperor visited the same city in a very magnificent covered carriage. In the description of the splendid tournament held by Joachim, elector of Brandenburg, at Ruppin, in 1509, we read of a carriage gilt all over, which belonged to the electress; of twelve other coaches ornamented with crimson, and of another of the duchess of Mecklenburg, which was hung with red satin. At the coronation of the emperor Maximilian, in the year 1562, the elector of Cologne had twelve carriages. In 1594, when the margrave John Sigismund did homage at Warsaw on account of Prussia, he had in his train thirty-six coaches with six horses each[161]. Count Kevenhiller, speaking of the marriage of the emperor Ferdinand II. with a princess of Bavaria, says, “The bride rode with her sisters in a splendid carriage studded with gold; her maids of honour in carriages hung with black satin, and the rest of the ladies in neat leather carriages.” The same author mentions the entrance of Cardinal Dietrichstein into Vienna in 1611, and tells us that forty carriages went to meet him[162]. At the election of the emperor Matthias, the ambassador of Brandenburg had three coaches[163]. When the consort of that emperor made her public entrance, on her marriage in 1611, she rode in a carriage covered with perfumed leather. Mary, infanta of Spain, spouse of the emperor Ferdinand III., rode, in Carinthia, in 1631, in a glass carriage in which no more than two persons could sit. The wedding carriage of the first wife of the emperor Leopold, who was also a Spanish princess, cost together with the harness 38,000 florins[164]. The coaches used by that emperor are thus described by Rink:--“In the imperial coaches no great magnificence was to be seen: they were covered over with red cloth and black nails. The harness was black, and in the whole work there was no gold. The pannels were of glass, and on this account they were called the imperial glass coaches. On festivals the harness was ornamented with red silk fringes. The imperial coaches were distinguished only by their having leather traces; but the ladies in the imperial suite were obliged to be contented with carriages the traces of which were made of ropes.” At the magnificent court of duke Ernest Augustus at Hanover, there were, in the year 1681, fifty gilt coaches with six horses each[165]. So early did Hanover begin to surpass other cities in the number of its carriages. The first time that ambassadors appeared in coaches on a public solemnity was at the imperial commission held at Erfurth in 1613, respecting the affair of Juliers[166].

The great lords at first imagined that they could suppress the use of coaches by prohibitions. In the archives of the county of Mark there is still preserved an edict, in which the feudal nobility and vassals are forbid the use of coaches, under pain of incurring the punishment of felony. In the year 1588, duke Julius of Brunswick published an order, couched in very expressive terms, by which his vassals were forbid to ride in carriages. This curious document is in substance as follows:--“As we know from ancient historians, from the annals of heroic, honourable and glorious achievements, and even by our own experience, that the respectable, steady, courageous and spirited Germans were heretofore so much celebrated among all nations on account of their manly virtue, sincerity, boldness, honesty and resolution, that their assistance was courted in war, and that in particular the people of this land, by their discipline and intrepidity, both within and without the kingdom, acquired so much celebrity, that foreign nations readily united with them; we have for some time past found, with great pain and uneasiness, that their useful discipline and skill in riding, in our electorate, county and lordship, have not only visibly declined, but have been almost lost (and no doubt other electors and princes have experienced the same among their nobility); and as the principal cause of this is that our vassals, servants and kinsmen, without distinction, young and old, have dared to give themselves up to indolence and to riding in coaches, and that few of them provide themselves with well-equipped riding horses and with skilful experienced servants, and boys acquainted with the roads: not being able to suffer any longer this neglect, and being desirous to revive the ancient Brunswick mode of riding, handed down and bequeathed to us by our forefathers, we hereby will and command, that all and each of our before-mentioned vassals, servants and kinsmen, of whatever rank or condition, shall always keep in readiness as many riding-horses as they are obliged to serve us with by their fief or alliance; and shall have in their service able, experienced servants, acquainted with the roads; and that they shall have as many horses as possible with polished steel harness and with saddles proper for carrying the necessary arms and accoutrements, so that they may appear with them when necessity requires. We also will and command our before-mentioned vassals and servants to take notice, that when we order them to assemble, either altogether or in part, in times of turbulence or to receive their fiefs, or when on other occasions they visit our court, they shall not travel or appear in coaches, but on their riding-horses, &c.”[167] Philip II., duke of Pomerania-Stettin, reminded his vassals also, in 1608, that they ought not to make so much use of carriages as of horses[168]. All these orders and admonitions however were of no avail, and coaches became common all over Germany.

It would be difficult to give an exact description of these carriages without a figure, and drawings or paintings of them do not seem to be common.

In the month of October 1785, when I visited the senate-house at Bremen, I saw in the tax-chamber a view of the city, painted on the wall in oil colours, by John Landwehr, in 1661. On the left side of the fore-ground I observed a long quadrangular carriage, which did not appear to be suspended by leather straps. It was covered with a canopy supported by four pillars, but had no curtains, so that one could see all the persons who were in it. In the side there was a small door, and before there seemed to be a low seat, or perhaps a box. The coachman sat upon the horses. It was evident, from their dress, that the persons in it were burgomasters.

In the history of France we find many proofs that at Paris, in the fourteenth, fifteenth, and even sixteenth centuries, the French monarchs rode commonly on horses, the servants of the court on mules, and the princesses, together with the principal ladies, sometimes on asses. Persons of the first rank frequently sat behind their equerry, and the horse was often led by servants. When Charles VI. wished to see incognito the entrance of the queen, he placed himself on horseback behind Savoisy, who was his confidant, with whom, however, he was much incommoded in the crowd[169]. When Louis, duke of Orleans, that prince’s brother, was assassinated in 1407, the two _ecuyers_ who accompanied him rode both upon the same horse[170]. In the year 1534, queen Eleonora and the princesses rode on white horses (_des haquenées blanches_) during a sacred festival. That private persons also, such as physicians, for example, used no carriages in the fifteenth century, is proved by the principal entrance to their public school, which was built in 1472, being so narrow that a carriage could not pass through it, though it was one of the widest at that period. In Paris also, at all the palaces and public buildings, there were steps for mounting on horseback, such as those which the parliament caused to be erected in 1599; and Sauval says on this occasion, that though many of these steps in latter periods had been taken away, there still remained several of them in his time at old buildings.