Tales of terror
some repute in the nearest town, and he advised against the operation,
saying that it was better to let nature take her course. When the girl
was in her thirteenth month she one day suddenly opened her eyes, and
those who saw them were frightened. Some people said that they were
seal’s eyes, others that they were the eyes of a snake, and others,
again, that ‘the devil looked through them.’ The superstitious people
in the village urged the parents to consult the priest, and this was
done, with the result that the infant was subjected to a religious
ceremony, with a view to exorcising the demon which was supposed to
have taken possession of her.
As the girl grew she displayed amazing precocity. When she was only
four she was more like a grown woman in her acts and ways than a child,
and the intuitive knowledge she exhibited only served to increase the
superstitious dread with which she inspired people. One day, when she
was nearly five, her father had a pig killed. The girl witnessed the
operation, and seemed to go almost mad with delight. And suddenly, to
the horror and consternation of those looking on, she threw herself
on the dying animal and began to drink the blood that flowed from the
cut throat. Somebody snatched her up and ran screaming with her to her
mother, who was distracted when she heard the story.
The incident, of course, soon became known all over the village, and
indeed far beyond it, and a fierce hatred of the child seized upon the
people. The consequence was, the parents had to keep a very watchful
eye over her. They were seriously advised to have the girl strangled,
and her body burnt to ashes with wood that had been blessed and
consecrated by the priests. Fearing that an attempt would be made upon
her life by the villagers, Isabella’s parents secretly conveyed her
away and took her to Cordova, where she was placed in the care of the
mother superior of a convent.
At this place she was carefully trained and taught, but was regarded
as an unnatural child. She seemed to be without heart, feeling, or
sentiment. Her aptitude for learning was looked upon as miraculous,
and a tale of horror or bloodshed afforded her an infinite amount of
enjoyment.
When she was a little more than twelve she escaped from her guardians
and disappeared.
For a long time no trace of her was forthcoming, then it became known
that she had joined a band of gipsies, and gained such a dominating
influence and power over them, that she was made a queen and married
a young man of the tribe. A month afterwards he was found dead one
morning in his tent. The cause of his death remained a mystery, but
it was noticed that there was a peculiar blue mark at the side of his
neck, from which a drop or two of blood still oozed.
A few weeks after her husband’s death, Isabella, queen of the gipsies,
announced to her tribe that she was going to sever herself from them
for a time and travel all over Europe. Where she went to during the
succeeding two years will never be known; but she was next heard of in
Paris, where she was put upon her trial, charged with having caused the
death of a man whom she alleged was her husband. She was then known as
Madame Ducoudert. The husband had died in a very mysterious manner. He
seemed to grow bloodless, and gradually faded away. And after his death
certain signs suggested poison. An autopsy, however, failed to reveal
any indications of recognised poisons. Nevertheless madame was tried,
but no evidence was forthcoming to convict her, and she was acquitted.
Almost immediately afterwards she quitted Paris with plenty of money,
her husband, who was well off, having left her all his property. The
Paris police, through their agents and spies, ascertained that she
proceeded direct to Bordeaux, where, in a very short time, she united
herself to a handsome young man, the only son of an exceedingly wealthy
Bordeaux wine-merchant. She had changed her name at this stage to Marie
Tailleux. She had a well-developed figure, an enormous quantity of jet
black hair, and perfect teeth. In other respects she was considered
to be ugly, by some even repulsive. And yet she exercised a fatal
fascination over men, though women feared and hated her.
She went from Bordeaux to London with the wine-merchant’s son, and
six months later the English people were treated to a sensation.
‘Madame and Monsieur Tailleux’ travelled extensively about England and
Scotland. Monsieur fell ill, soon after arriving, of some nameless
disease. His illness was characterised by prostration, languor,
bloodlessness. He consulted several doctors, who prescribed for him
without effect.
The pair at last took up their residence at a very well-known
metropolitan hotel, where they lived in great style, spent money
lavishly, and were supposed to be people of note. But one morning
monsieur was found dead in bed, and as no doctor had been treating
him for some time, and the cause of death could not be certified, an
inquest was ordered and a post-mortem became necessary. Those who made
the examination had their suspicions aroused. They believed there had
been foul play--at any rate, the man had died of poison. The police
were communicated with: result, the arrest of madame, and columns and
columns of sensational reports in the papers.
Amongst madame’s belongings was found a little carved ebony box
containing twelve receptacles for twelve tiny phials. Some of these
phials were empty, others full of liquid that varied in colour; that
is, in one phial it was yellow, in another red, in another green, in
another blue, and yet another held what seemed to be clear water.
The chemical analysis of the contents of the stomach quite failed
to justify the suspicions of poison. But the blood had a peculiar,
watery appearance; the heart was flabby and weak. Madame accounted for
possession of the phials by saying they contained gipsy medicine of
great efficacy in certain diseases. There was such a small quantity in
each phial as to make analysis practically impossible; certain animals,
however, were treated with some of the contents, and seemed actually to
improve under the treatment. Under the circumstances, of course, there
was nothing for it but to release madame, as the magistrate said there
was no case to go before a jury.
It is worth while to quote the following description of the woman at
this time. It appeared in a report in the _Times_.
‘The prisoner is a most extraordinary looking woman, and appears to
be possessed of some wonderful magnetic power, which half fascinates
one. It is difficult to say wherein this power lies, unless it be in
her eyes. They are certainly remarkable eyes, that have a peculiar,
glistening appearance like oil. Then her voice is a revelation.
Until she speaks one would be disposed to say the voice of such a
harsh-featured woman would be hard, raucous, and raspy. But its tones
are those of a silver bell, or a sweet-toned flute. Her self-possession
is also marvellous, and she smiles sweetly and fascinatingly. Somehow
or another she gives one the impression that she has some of the
attributes of the sirens of old, who were said to lure men to their
destruction. Possibly this is doing the woman an injustice; but it is
difficult to resist the idea. Her hands, too, are in striking contrast
to her general physique. They are long, thin, lithe, and white. Taken
altogether, she cannot certainly be described as an ordinary type
of woman, and we should be disposed to say that, allied to great
intelligence, was a subtle cunning and a cruelty of disposition that
might make her dangerous.’
This description was written during the time the woman was a prisoner.
The writer showed that he had a keen insight, and had he but known
some of her past history he would probably have written in a much more
pronounced way.
‘Madame Tailleux’ was discharged for the want of legal evidence, and
Madame Tailleux soon afterwards left England and went to America, where
she became ‘Miss Anna Clarkson’; and though nobody knew anything at
all about her, she had no difficulty in making her way into so-called
Society; but not as an associate and companion of women, who shunned
and hated her as she hated them; but men followed her, as men are
alleged to have followed Circe. Indeed, in some respects, the classical
description of Circe with her magic and potions might apply to
Isabella Ribera, with the many aliases.
In a very little while Phineas Miller fell a victim to her potent
spells. Phineas was a young man, a stockbroker, and rich. The twain
journeyed to Florida, from whence Phineas wrote to an intimate friend
that he was strangely ill, and he believed the climate was affecting
him. He looked like a corpse, he said. He was languid. He took no
interest in anything. He suffered from a peculiar prostration, and
found a difficulty in moving about. Yet he experienced no pain, and at
times sank into a dreamy state that was pleasant. He thought, however,
as soon as he left that part of the country he would be all right.
He was doomed, however, never to leave that part of the country. He
went out one day with Miss Anna Clarkson, and an old negro, to shoot
in the swamps. They had a boat which was in charge of the negro. That
evening, Miss Clarkson returned alone. She was drenched and covered
with slime and mud. There had been an accident. The boat had capsized
by striking against a sunken tree. They were all thrown into the
water. She managed to cling to the boat, and ultimately to right it,
but her companions disappeared. The negro, she thought, was taken by a
crocodile.
A search-party went out to try and recover the bodies. The negro was
never found, Miller was. He presented an extraordinary appearance,
and those who examined him said he had not died by drowning. This
theory, however, found no favour. Men were often drowned in the swamps,
which swarmed with alligators and crocodiles, huge snakes, and other
repulsive things. When a man once got into the water he had no chance.
It was a perfect miracle how Miss Clarkson escaped. ‘Poor thing, she
must have had an awful time of it.’
It is true that crocodiles, alligators, and snakes did swarm in the
swamps, and the remarkable thing was that Miller’s body was recovered.
Much sympathy was shown for Miss Clarkson; Miller was duly buried and
forgotten in a week.
Amongst the lady’s most pronounced sympathisers was a Mr. Lambert
Lennox, an Englishman engaged in fruit-farming. He was about
forty-five, a widower with two daughters and a son. It was generally
agreed that he was one of the finest men in Florida. He was an athlete.
He stood six feet two in his stockings. His health was perfect. It was
his boast that he had never been laid up a day with illness.
Mr. Lennox had some business to transact in Jamaica, West Indies, and
sailed for that island in one of the trading vessels. In the same
vessel went ‘poor’ Miss Clarkson. A month or two later Mr. Lennox,
Jun., received from Mr. Lennox, Sen., a letter dated from Jamaica, in
the West Indies. Amongst much other news the writer told his son that
he had not been well. He had a strange anæmic appearance, felt weak
and languid, had no energy, suffered from unquenchable thirst, and
was constantly falling asleep suddenly, often at the most inopportune
moments. He had consulted a doctor, who was of opinion that the
climate of Jamaica didn’t suit him, and he advised him to get away as
soon as possible. ‘I shall therefore be home in about six weeks,’ Mr.
Lennox added. But in the meantime he departed for his long home. Mr.
Lambert Lennox died somewhat suddenly one morning, and was buried in
the evening. The doctor who had been attending him certified that he
had succumbed to low fever. The next mail that went out bore the sad