Odd this day

Coates
3 min readMar 6, 2023

--

6 March 1691

Yes, of course! The 333rd anniversary of Jesuits in Goa being granted a monopoly on the production and export of Goa stones to Portugal — only a century or so after a doctor proved they didn’t work.

Oval goa stone, used as a remedy for many diseases, bears traces of gold foil on outside, in elaborate silver case, on a silver tripod, possibly 17th century

Mind you, the ‘work’ they were supposed to do was counteract poison, and their ingredients could include amber, ambergis, coral, crushed gemstones, fossil shark teeth, hair, narwhal horn, shells, and tusks (usually covered in gold leaf) — and the wonderdrug was administered by shaving a bit off into water or wine and drinking it, so its lack of efficacy is perhaps not surprising.

(Ambergris, of course, is the waxy lumps of… matter that develop in sperm whales’ intestines. Ooh, yes please.)

A lump of ambergris being held by a gloved hand. It looks like a stone, but with a hint about it of having been retrieved from something’s innards, too
Ambergris — much sought after, apparently

Goa stones were invented by a Jesuit brother called Gaspar Antonio because bezoars were too rare. Bezoars, as any Harry Potter fan can tell you, come

from the stomach of a goat and … will save you from most poisons

A bezoar. It looks like a haggis, or perhaps a giant bollock, with a gold or brass band around it, with lettering on it which reads PIEDRA BESOHAR FINISS

In fact any ruminant will do — especially antelope, deer, and sheep — and bezoars largely consist of food, gallstones and animal hair. The word bezoar, apparently, comes from either the Persian pahnzehr or the Arabic badzehr, which both mean antidote or ‘counter-poison’.

Fanny Cradock looking bilious

Anyway, back in 1567,

A gentleman at the [French] court showed to Charles IX a bezoar-stone, as was the fashion then to show all sorts of odd things to Royalty, and told him it was an antidote to all poisons.

Remarkably for a 16th-century monarch, Charles asked his surgeon, Ambroise Paré, if this was true, and — equally unusually for a quack of that era — Ambroise said no, it’s balls. So, they tested it with Actual Science.

The King sent for M. de La Trousse, his Provost, and asked if he had anyone who deserved hanging. He said that he had in his prisons a cook, who had stolen two silver dishes in his master’s house, and was to be hanged to-morrow. The King said he wished to make trial of a stone which they said was good against all poisons ; let them ask the said cook, now he was condemned, if he would take a certain poison, and forthwith they would give him an antidote, and if he recovered he should keep his life

Well, this all sounds marvellously ethical, and I’m sure the cook doesn’t feel pressured into… Ah.

The cook very willingly agreed, saying he would far rather die of poison in prison than be hanged in the sight of the people. Then an apothecary gave him a certain poison to drink, and forthwith the bezoar-stone. Having these two fine drugs inside him, he began crying out he was on fire, calling for water to drink, which was not refused him.

Still, the story (from Stephen Paget’s Ambroise Paré and his times, 1510–1590) can’t get worse, can it? It must have a happy ending. Is it at least quick?

An hour later, having heard of it, I asked M. de La Trousse to let me go and see him, and he sent me thither with three of his archers. I found the poor cook on all fours, going like an animal, his tongue out of his mouth, his eyes and his face flaming red. … I made him drink about half a sextier of oil, thinking to save his life ; but it was of no service, being given too late, and he died miserably, crying out he had better have died on the gallows : he lived about seven hours.”

Gordon Bennett. Anyway, you can still see Goa stones in places like the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna, the Metropolitan Museum in New York, and the Wellcome Collection in London — often in ornate gold or silver cases.

A Goa stone, which resembles nothing more than a polished, largish, brownish pebble, in an ornately carved gold tripod
The Wellcome Collection’s Goa stone

--

--

Coates
Coates

Written by Coates

Purveyor of niche drivel; marker of odd anniversaries

No responses yet