Forensic toxicology is one of the most intriguing areas of crime history, and the detection of arsenic poisoning holds a grim fascination to this day. I’ve combined my interest in historical poisoning cases (I do have a small collection of poison bottles in my study!), and my love for languages to study the most sensational murder case in 19th century France, L’Affaire Lafarge, in which Marie Lafarge was tried for murdering her husband with arsenic.
Marie-Fortunée Capelle was born in 1816 into a wealthy Parisian family. Her father was in the military and was appointed to the post of lieutenant-colonel in Douai during Marie’s childhood, which she mostly spent in the countryside. Her mother, who was from a respectable and well-connected landowning family, had royal blood (this was not proven until the early 20th century), as she was descended from the illegitimate daughter of the Duc d’Orléans, Louis-Philippe II. However, despite Marie’s comfortable and carefree upbringing, tragedy struck when her father died in a hunting accident, when she was 12 years old. Her mother remarried soon after and Marie was sent away to boarding school, where she stayed for almost a year before joining her mother and stepfather in Strasbourg. Seven years later when her mother also died, Marie, now aged 18, was left in the care of her maternal grandfather and aunts but, without a dowry. Her relatives expected her to marry but, despite several suitors, Marie was still single at the age of 23, so they mounted a concerted effort to find her a husband, even employing the services of a marriage broker. Her uncle soon found the ideal candidate.
Charles Joseph Dorothée Pouch Lafarge, aged 28, was a successful and wealthy businessman from Le Glandier, in Corrèze, who owned a number of forges and lived in a fine manor house. He was a widow. The couple met in August 1839 and, despite Marie’s unfavourable first impressions of her would-be husband, they married two days later. When Marie travelled to Le Glandier to settle in her new home, it wasn’t quite what she expected. A former monastery bought by Charles’ father, the manor house was is a state of disrepair and dilapidation. After a promising start in life and a relatively luxurious existence, Marie suddenly found herself buried in the countryside with a husband she wasn’t attracted to, a difficult mother-in-law, and a house which was falling down. She poured her feelings into a letter to her husband, sharing her secret that she loved someone else (he had been unsuitable due to his more lowly status). The couple argued but then life settled down as Marie tried to adapt to her new role as a provincial wife, even showing interest in her husband’s ironworks.
In November, Charles travelled to Paris for business and remained there for a few weeks. While he was absent, Marie sent to the chemist in the nearby town of Uzerche for some arsenic to tackle the manor’s rat infestation. This was not seen as unusual but, links were later made between this purchase and the cakes that Marie sent to her husband during his stay in Paris, after which he fell ill with vomiting and fever. He finally returned to Le Glandier in the new year, but his condition worsened and, despite the ministrations of several doctors, Charles Lafarge died on 14 January 1840.
Throughout his illness, his family had been suspicious of Marie and they had even had some egg nog tested that she had given to him. The local chemist had analysed it and found traces of arsenic, after which Charles’ mother prevented Marie from caring for her son. It was also noted that Marie had bought repeated quantities of the poison, apparently for the purpose of killing rats. Even more damning, the maid handed over Marie’s letter and alleged that she had seen Marie stirring white powder in a cup. Charles’ brother-in-law placed the matter before the local magistrate, who considered the evidence was compelling enough to take the allegations seriously. He and his colleagues retrieved any potential evidence from the house for chemical analysis and questioned witnesses. Local experts were instructed to carry out a post mortem examination on Charles’ body.
There were two key developments which the doctors examining this case could have used to examine Charles’s body for traces of arsenic. In 1836, Scottish chemist James Marsh had published the details of his test for arsenic in the Edinburgh Philosophical Journal, following the first time he had used it in a murder case, four years before. Also, renowned Spanish toxicologist, Mathieu Orfila had, by this time, published his guidance on autopsies. Neither of these new methods were followed in this initial examination of the Lafarge case, with the results that traces of arsenic were found in the egg nog (which Charles had barely sipped), in some breadcrumbs soaked in water, some sugared water, and in some liquid which Charles had vomited. However, no arsenic could be detected in his bodily remains. (The equipment had exploded during the later tests, limiting the experiments significantly.) Despite this lack of clear evidence, Marie was arrested and taken to Brive prison.
Whilst preparing her defence from behind bars, Marie was accused of another charge from her past, which had been dropped some time before. This was in relation to the alleged theft of diamonds belonging to her former childhood friend, la Comtesse de Léautaud. The diamond necklace had disappeared whilst Marie had been a house guest. Her friend, also named Marie, had initiated a law suit but then withdrew the charges. When Marie Lafarge was in the frame for murder, Marie Nicolaï’s family had reopened the case. The diamonds were discovered at the Lafarge home and Marie stood trial in July 1840. She was found guilty and sentenced to two years (this was later contested and a new trial ordered). At the time though, this conviction confirmed Marie’s notorious reputation as a murderer and poisoner.
Marie Lafarge’s trial for murdering her husband opened on 3 September 1840, for which she had been transferred to Tulle. She was now 24 years old and had spent six months in prison. The defence opened as expected by stating that the autopsy had not followed Orfila’s meticulous guidelines and that the Marsh Test had not been employed in the detection of arsenic. The judge then ordered for a new set of experts to redo the tests on the same items. The remains of the original examination were brought to Tulle, which amounted to just a quarter of all substances originally collected. The panel of experts reported that they had found no traces of arsenic in Charles’s body but that arsenic had been detected in some of the external substances. The decision was then made to exhume Charles Lafarge’s body in the search for a definitive result. Unfortunately, as the body was in an advanced state of decomposition, there was little matter for the doctors to extract, and they only managed to scrape a spoonful of bodily matter for further analysis. Not surprisingly, this did not yield the desired results and the evidence was still insufficient. In a final attempt to prove this case, the judge requested the expert Orfila to carry out a fourth examination on the victim’s body.
Mathieu Joseph Bonaventure Orfila was born in 1787 in Minorca. He studied medicine at the universities of Valencia and Barcelona, and then in Paris. As professor of chemistry and later of medical jurisprudence at the École de Médecine in Paris, he carried out extensive toxicology experiments on hundreds of animals, mostly cats and dogs, watched by awestruck spectators. Orfila published his groundbreaking textbook on poisons in two volumes in 1814 and 1815, in which he grouped poisons into four categories for the first time. Considered to be the founder of toxicology, Orfila was an enthusiastic proponent of the Marsh test and he firmly believed in the infallibility of science in supporting the criminal justice system. When he came to Tulle in 1840 to reexamine the remains of Charles Lafarge, he discovered half a milligram of arsenic, which he claimed could only have been present in the body due to having been administered externally, rather than having seeped in from the earth. This was enough to convict Marie and she was sentenced to death, despite her having called on one of Orfila’s fiercest critics, French chemist François-Vincent Raspail whose carriage broke down making him too late to save her in court.
This was one of the most controversial criminal cases in French history and it completely divided the country on several fault lines, such as the role of science in criminal justice, the divide between urban and rural communities, the role of women, and tensions between social classes and politics. She was depicted in the press as a dangerous woman, who used her feminine wiles to tempt the unsuspecting Charles into her web, before disposing of him. At the same time, many people including celebrated writers such as George Sand and Alexandre Dumas, supported Marie’s claim that she was an innocent victim of a miscarriage of justice. Even Honoré de Balzac penned a poem lamenting her case. The death penalty was commuted to life imprisonment and Marie gathered her supporters to prepare an appeal, which later failed. (She was later re-convicted of the theft).
Discussion and controversy also raged over the use of scientific methods, such as the Marsh Test, in criminal cases. Although Raspail’s attempts to spare Marie had failed, he scrutinised Orfila’s examination and highlighted a number of inconsistencies and inadequacies with the evidence. An official enquiry was launched and restrictions were put in place to limit the legal impact of such tests. This, and several political changes, tarnished Orfila’s reputation and his star-studded career gradually came to an end. He died in 1853.
Marie was eventually transferred to a nursing home, due to her poor health. At the age of 37, and after spending a third of her life in prison (during which time she published her memoirs), she was freed by Napoleon III. She died of TB the following year, in 1852. Marie Lafarge’s legacy lives on, not least of all as the inspiration for one of the most celebrated French novels, and my personal all-time favourite, Gustave Flaubert’s Madame Bovary, published just four years after her death.