Chapter XI: Some Poison Mysteries in France

For centuries past poison has played a prominent part in love intrigues which form so common a feature in French life. Such crimes are generally incited by jealousy or the desire to remove some obstacle that obstructs the path of the ardent lover. A typical case of this character and one which caused a great sensation at the time, occurred at Bordeaux in 1906, when Madame Canaby was tried for attempting to poison her husband. Monsieur and Madame Canaby were people of good position and well known in Bordeaux society. The arrest of the lady, therefore, caused considerable interest. The story is somewhat remarkable. Early in 1906 Monsieur Canaby was taken ill with influenza, and on the 27th of that month his cook called at a pharmacy in the city with a prescription which contained a large quantity of aconite and digitalin, two very powerful poisons. The prescription was signed by a “Dr. Gaube.” The pharmacist, who happened to be the uncle of Madame Canaby, knew that his niece and her husband were friendly with Dr. Gaube, who lived some distance away from Bordeaux. His natural surprise at the large quantity of the powerful poisons ordered was somewhat allayed by a note which accompanied the prescription, stating that Dr. Gaube required the poisons for experimental purposes. M. Fouries, the pharmacist, then wrote a note to his niece, whom he had not seen for three years, explaining that although he had dispensed this prescription he could not in future deliver such dangerous drugs by a messenger. He further cautioned the servant, saying, “Be careful; there is enough there to poison thirty men!”

On May 1 M. Erny, the pharmacist who usually dispensed for Madame Canaby, received a prescription for one gramme of digitalin, signed by Dr. Gaube, also accompanied by a note similar to that presented to M. Fouries. This was followed by another prescription on May 4 for one gramme of aconitine and five centigrams of digitalin. Five days afterwards a third prescription was presented for one gramme of potassium cyanide and one gramme of digitalin, both of which are extremely virulent poisons. The pharmacist’s suspicions now being aroused, he refused to dispense the last prescription, and on May 11 he called on Dr. Guérin, whom he knew to be attending M. Canaby, and showed him the prescription. The following day Dr. Guérin called in four physicians, and after a consultation it was decided to remove M. Canaby to a private hospital under the charge of Dr. Villar. Here, carefully watched, M. Canaby gradually made some progress toward recovery.

Meanwhile, the doctors submitted the prescriptions to Dr. Gaube, who at once pronounced them forgeries and lodged a complaint with the Procureur of the Republic. A police inquiry followed, and a search was made in the Canabys’ house, which resulted in the discovery of a large number of empty bottles which had formerly contained Fowler’s Solution of Arsenic. An analysis being made of the hair of M. Canaby, it revealed the presence of arsenic to the extent of forty milligrams per kilo, and in hair from his beard twenty-six milligrams.

The arrest of Madame Canaby quickly followed, and she was committed for trial on the charge of attempting to poison her husband. The motive for the cause was assigned to an intimacy Madame had formed with a Monsieur Rabot, a friend of the family.

At the trial M. Canaby, still weak and ill, was brought to the Court and strongly affirmed his wife’s innocence. He stated his belief that a discharged servant had by means of anonymous letters instigated the prosecution. He ascribed the presence of arsenic in his beard to patent medicines which he had been in the habit of taking in large doses. M. Rabot, whose intimacy with Madame Canaby had given rise to some scandal, denied that any improper relations existed between him and the lady. The onus of proving the case then rested with the medical men who had been in attendance on M. Canaby. Beyond a few explanations, however, they declined to say anything, stating that they could not say more without betraying the secrets of their patients, which professional usage forbade.

The President of the Court informed Dr. Villar, the chief medical witness, that his refusal to speak would probably tell against the prisoner.

“I will ask her to release you from your pledge,” continued the President.

“I want the truth to be told; I don’t want anyone to keep silence on my account,” broke in Madame Canaby.

“So now you can speak,” remarked the President.

“Not at all,” replied the doctor. “No one can release us from our pledge of secrecy, and certainly not Madame Canaby, who was not our patient.”

“But every good citizen under pain of punishment is bound to disclose any criminal act that is known to have been committed by another,” said the President sharply.

“On the contrary,” replied the witness, “the law punishes those who violate professional secrecy and did so recently in Paris. Even if we know an accused person guilty, we would refuse to speak.”

For the defence, evidence was adduced that M. Canaby was in the habit of taking a certain patent medicine that contained arsenic. Of the three experts who were called to give an opinion on the writing of the prescriptions, one declared the writing resembled that of M. Rabot, while the others averred that it was unquestionably that of Madame Canaby, who had attempted to disguise her hand.

Madame herself declared that the poisons when received had been handed to her by a fair young man, who came presumably from Dr. Gaube, but as to his identity she could trace nothing.

In the end, Madame Canaby was acquitted on the charge of attempting to poison her husband, but was found guilty of forging medical prescriptions, by which poison was fraudulently obtained by her. For this she was sentenced to fifteen months’ imprisonment and a fine of a hundred francs.

Another strange case, the motive for which can only be assigned to a disordered brain, happened in Varennes, a village near Saint Amand-Montroud. In April, 1905, a well-to-do farmer named Gilbert died suddenly, and six months afterwards his wife expired in a similar manner. In September of the following year, another farmer in the same district, called Renaud, died very suddenly, and within a month his wife succumbed to a mysterious illness. In the meantime, one of their farm labourers also died from an unexplained cause, and a young man, who was steward of a neighbouring château, together with his little daughter, was likewise fatally attacked. No suspicions of foul play were apparently aroused until a considerable time afterwards, when Madame Pallot, a villager, found a small cheese on her window-sill, which she took to be a present from a neighbour. She ate some of it with her lunch, and in less than three hours she was dead.

The origin of the cheese, which on analysis proved to be strongly impregnated with arsenic, was traced to a young married woman named Jeanne Gilbert, the daughter of the farmer Renaud and the daughter-in-law of M. and Mme Gilbert, all of whom had died in a similar manner. She was arrested and charged with the murder of Madame Pallot.

M. Bouillot, a pharmacist of Saint Amand, was able to prove from his poison register that Jeanne Gilbert had bought arsenic by the half pound from him, stating that she required it for poisoning rats on the farm, and she might have had two pounds of the poison in her possession at one time. Jeanne at first stoutly denied that she had purchased the arsenic, and declared she did not even know the pharmacist. Even when confronted with the _juge d’instruction_ she continued her denials, but the pharmacist had been careful to make her sign his register on the occasion of each purchase. The judge required her to sign her name, with the result that the identity of the writing was at once established.

When compared, the dates of sales and the deaths of the woman’s relatives practically corresponded. She subsequently admitted the purchases of the arsenic, but adhered to her original assertion that she used it for destroying rats. Altogether, it is suspected that Jeanne Gilbert poisoned no fewer than eleven persons.

The most extraordinary feature of the case was that she appeared to have no possible motive for committing these terrible crimes, as she was comfortably settled in life. Her parents were in good circumstances, and she could expect no advantages to accrue from their deaths, or that of her future mother-in-law and the other persons she is believed to have poisoned. The only explanation offered is the statement of her husband that her mind may have been affected by an illness after which he had noticed that she sometimes acted strangely.

A more recent case which excited great interest throughout France was that of Henri Girard, who died in prison while awaiting trial. About 1909 this individual, who passed as an insurance agent, was living at Montreuil-sous-Bois. Well educated, of good appearance, and apparently a cultured man with a leaning towards music, literature and science, he soon became popular among a wide circle in the district in which he lived and also in Paris. Among his acquaintances was a wealthy man named Pernotte, who after some persuasion consented to have his life insured in two different companies for a total sum of £8,400, which was to be payable to Girard in case of Pernotte’s death.

A short time afterwards all the members of Pernotte’s family were stricken with typhoid fever, but in the course of time they recovered and went away for a holiday. On their return, however, as M. Pernotte was still feeling weak, his friend Girard, who claimed to have some medical knowledge and was interested in science, gave him a hypodermic injection which he said would speedily put him on his feet again. Pernotte died soon afterwards, and the physicians who examined the body declared that death resulted from poisoning.

Girard, it was afterwards discovered, made an entry in his diary at this time as follows: “Poisons; prepare bottle, tubes, rubber gloves; buy microbe books.”

Police inquiries were set on foot and disclosed the fact that Girard at this time was studying bacteriology, and had actually bought cultures of typhoid bacilli, and a selection of toxic organisms and poisons were found at his house.

Meanwhile Girard calmly took possession of the £8,400 for which he had insured the life of M. Pernotte.

He appears to have been a man possessed of the most extraordinary power of attraction for both men and women; his manners are said to have been charming, and the courtly tone of his conversation gave him the name among his acquaintance of “Gentleman Girard.”

Once his intimate friends came within the sphere of his magnetic personality they seem to have surrendered their wills entirely to his.

In 1913 he became very friendly with a M. Godel, and the latter agreed, at the suggestion of Girard, to take out a joint life insurance for £8,000. In case of the death of one, the money was to go to the survivor. M. Godel after lunching one day with Girard was taken ill with typhoid fever; he eventually recovered, but becoming suspicious, he refused to see Girard again, to which decision he no doubt owed his life.

Girard was mobilized during the war and served in the automobile service in Paris where he made the acquaintance of a soldier called Delmas. Delmas became very friendly with Girard, and, after having signed bills in favour of the insurance agent, also took ill and developed typhoid fever. He was sent, however, to a military hospital and recovered.

It is stated that Girard was experimenting with microorganisms and had bought quantities of typhoid cultures from wholesale druggists. At this time, too, he fitted up a bacteriological laboratory in the house of a woman with whom he lived at Neuilly.

Finding that his efforts in using pathogenic organisms had proved so uncertain in effects, he next turned his attention to the study of poisonous fungi, and used the resulting poison on his next victim, a M. Duroux, a post office employee, whose life, as in the previous cases, he had insured for a large sum without the latter’s knowledge.

Having invited him to dine at his house, it was said that he took the opportunity of placing the poison in his food. The servants, it is alleged, were told not to wash up, and they say that Girard and one of his mistresses washed the plates and knives and forks in a bath full of antiseptic solution. Duroux, however, was none the worse. Girard’s notebook at this time shows the following entry: “Mimiche Dinner—mushrooms,” opposite the dates May 10 and 11, 1917. The dinner took place on May 14. In December of the same year Duroux twice went to a café with Girard and each time was taken violently ill afterwards.

The next victim was a Madame Monin, a widow, with whom Girard became very intimate. Having taken out four insurance policies on her life, he then decided to poison her. He persuaded her to come to the house of his future wife, a Mlle Drouhin, to see some hats, and while Mme Monin was so engaged, Girard offered her some refreshment and wine was brought into the room. The hat having been selected, the lady partook of a glass of wine handed to her by Girard, which is said to have contained a poison he had prepared from fungi specially for this purpose.

It acted very rapidly, as the unfortunate lady was taken ill in the street almost directly afterwards, and after being taken by two policemen to her home, she died three hours later. A post-mortem examination revealed the fact that she died from mushroom poisoning. Girard, however, was bold enough to make a claim on the insurance policies, but owing to the refusal of one of the companies to pay £400, the amount of one policy which he had taken out with them on the life of Mme Monin, he was arrested.

It was then discovered that two other insurance companies had already handed over to Girard or his accomplices over £800 without inquiries. Girard, as agent, having secured the business in each case, had according to custom been paid the first premium as his commission.

After his arrest, on his house being searched, in his laboratory, which was completely equipped, were found a considerable number of poisons and a number of glass jars containing typhoid cultures and other organisms. Inquiries revealed other mysterious cases on which Girard had operated back to 1913, and brought to light another, of a man whom he had invited to dinner and who had died after drinking an apéritif which had been offered to him by Girard.

The preliminary legal investigation into this remarkable series of crimes lasted nearly three years, and in the end Girard was sent before the Chamber of Criminal Indictment, but before the trial took place at the Paris Assizes death had cheated the guillotine. Girard died in prison after he had made, it is said, a full confession of his crimes.