NOTE: The spelling of the name is in question: “Bonhours” or “Bouhours.” The earliest mention of the case, identifying the criminal as female, found so far is dated 1835. A mention from 1824, however, describes the perpetrator as male. The famous 19th century criminologist Cesar Lombroso mentioned the case in 1895, giving the name as Bonhours. While the following long New York Times article dating from 1866 does not give the female serial killer’s name, it is clear that the case is that mentioned by Lombroso. The 1866 article also allows us to date the case as occurring circa 1795-1799. Oddly, the title of the article includes the statement that she killed twenty men in a period of four months, yet these assertions are not included in the body of the article itself.
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FULL TEXT: Byline – Ralph Easel (New York Times Paris correspondent) -- In a recent letter I gave some account Philippe, the man who is now in confinement at Mazas (the Paris Tombs), awaiting trial for the perpetuation of eighteen assassinations. The patrons of our melo-dramatic theatres complain that the authors who cater to t to their peculiar taste are deficient in imagination, and are continually serving up to them the same old play, with the same old incidents of plot, only rehashed and transposed, with no more than a change of a title. So it is with the crimes of real life, as well as those of the mimic scene – there is nothing new under the sun. The wretch Probst, no doubt, seems to you in America, the most ferocious incarnation of the sanguinary villain but the Frenchman, Phillippe, far outstrips in flagitious cruelty the German assassin of Philadelphia, and even Philippe himself is but a plugiary, so far as the number of his unfortunate victims is concerned, of a woman who signalized hereself in Paris during the rule of the Directory [1795-1800].
One day, at the period mentioned, the proprietor of a furnished hotel in the Rue de 1’Universite, appeared before the Minister of Police, and informed that functionary that a murder had been committed in his (the hotel keeper’s) house. On the previous evening, he said, a stranger had taken a room stating his residence to be Melun, and his purpose to spend two or three days in Paris. After ordering his baggage to be carried to his apartment, the new comer went out, giving notice that be was going to the Odeon Theatre, and should not return to the hotel until after, the performance. Near midnight he reappeared, accompanied by a young and very pretty woman, dressed in male attire, who he, said, was his wife.
The next morning, at an early hour, the pretended sposa left the house, requesting that her husband might not be disturbed until her return which would be in about an hour. At noon she was still absent, and hearing nothing stirring in her room occupied by the gentleman from Melun, the landlord began to feel uneasy, and rapped at the strangers door. --- Receiving no answer from within, the hotel keeper sent for a duplicate key to the apartment, upon entering which the unfortunate man was found lifeless in his bed. A doctor was hastily summoned, who, after a brief examination of the body, declared that death had been produced by a blow at the left temple, inflicted by a blunt instrument.
It was evident that the assassination had been committed by the woman in male attire, and every effort was made by the police to discover her whereabouts, but ineffectually. A month subsequently, another murder was under similar circumstances, except that on this occasion the victim, also a traveler, had gone to his room quite alone. At a late hour, however, an effeminate looking young man came down stairs, and was let out by the porter of the hotel, who remembered the fact on the following morning when the date was discovered. The affair caused great excitement in Paris, and redoubled exertions were made by the police to ferret out the mysterious assassin, but still without result. Eleven days afterward, a third victim perished in precisely the same manner as the preceding two, and in the course of a few months, no less than twenty men lost their lives by means so identical that no doubt was entertained that the murderous blows were all inflicted by the same hand.
Stung to the quick, [Joseph] Fouche, the Minister of Police, set all his spies to work, and offered a large reward for the discovery of those unparalleled crimes.
One evening a certain B., a member of the Secret Police, who had the appearance of a Provincial gentleman, was passing through a narrow street of the City, when he encountered a handsome, equivocal-looking youth. B. stopped, turned, and said to himself,
“That’s a woman in male garb. If it should be she!”
At the tame moment the handsome woman also turned, and smiled encouragingly.
“That settles the question,” murmured the delighted spy. “Now, if I can manage the thing cautiously, my fortune is made. “And retracing his steps, he accosted the unknown;
“I have something very particular to say to you,” whispered B., with a knowing leer, “ but it is not possible for us to talk freely in the public street. Might I not invite you to accompany me to my hotel?”
“I suppose you take me to be a woman?” was the soft voice. “You are quite mistaken my good sir! I don’t mind having a chat with you, however; where are you staying?”
“ In the Rue del’Universite!”
“ Indeed! I am too well known to go there.”
“I am on the right track,” thought the spy. “Well, than, he said aloud, “we will go wherever you like.”
“Done,” replied the other.
And, crossing the river, the pair presently entered a small hotel on the Place de Chatelet engaged an apartment, and ordered supper to be served in their room.
“If I am to remain with yon during your stay in Paris,” said the young woman, who no longer attempted to conceal her sex, “you had better have your baggage brought here.”
B., overjoyed at the opportunity thus offered to lodge the necessary information at the Central Police Station near by, at once assented to this suggestion, and declared that he would go himself, pay his bill, and bring a box of silks he had at the other hotel. After an hour’s absence be returned, accompanied by two porters, carrying on their shoulders a large and apparently heavy box, which they deposited in the corner of the room. The supper: previously ordered was now served.
“Your walk must bare made you thirsty,” said the young woman, pouring out a glass of wine for her companion. “ But, before you sit down, have the kindness to give me my handkerchief, which I have left over there on the sofa.”
Suspecting some trick, B., while crossing the room, watched his new. Acquaintance closely, and saw her throw a powder into the glass of wine, which, instead of swallowing be dexterously managed to spill on the carpet. In a few moments be showed signs of drowsiness and began to murmur incoherent words. Drawing the syren near him, be felt something in her packet which excited his curiosity. Upon asking what it was, she produced the object, a beautiful little hammer.
“This,” said she, “is an opiate of the most powerful description. I’ll show you presently how it puts people to sleep.”
B. had fallen to the floor, in an apparent state of complete unconsciousness. Stooping over him the murderess raised her anticipated victim’s bead, placed it in the most favorable position to render the blow effective, and had already seized the pretty little hammer, when suddenly the box in the corner flew open with a loud noise, and a grip of iron seized her uplifted arm.
On the trial, which took place shortly afterward, the female assassin alleged, in her defense, that the bad been ruined by a villain and had sworn to be avenged upon the entire male sex. This romantic story, however, did not prevent her conviction and subsequent death on the scaffold.
[“Ralph Easel, “Making a Hero of an Assassin – Terrible Career of a Murderess – She Kills Twenty Men within Four Months,” New York Times (N.Y.), Jun. 1, 1866, page = ?; (reprinted in many other US newspapers)]
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Following are some fragmentary sources:
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[A] girl, called Bonhours, who was executed in Paris at the age of twenty-two, for robbing and murdering several people, is described as of remarkable muscular strength, and her favourite weapon was a hammer!
[Isabel Foard, “The Criminal: Is He Produced by Environment or Atavism?” The Westminster Review, Jul.-Dec. 1898, Vol. 150, (pp. 90-103), p. 97]
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The celebrated Bonhours, a prostitute and murderess who wore masculine garments, and was as strong as a man, killed several men by blows from a hammer.
[Caesar Lombroso & William Ferrero, The Female Offender, 1895, p. 131]
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EXCERPT: The following mention is extracted from a discussion of phrenological descriptions:
“in another criminal, to whom murder had become a habit; in Bouhours, who killed her victims with a hammer, in order to rob them of their money … In Bouhours, three organs had acquired a high degree of development. The excessive activity of one produced a propensity to steal; of the second, to murder; and of the third, to fight;—an unhappy concourse, which can only explain the atrocious conduct of this monster.”
[François Joseph Gall, Organology, Or, An Exposition of the instincts, propensities, sentiments, talents, or of the moral qualities, and the fundamental intellectual faculties in man and animals and the seat of their organs.” 1835, Vol. 4 of 6 vols., Marsh, Capen & Lyon (Boston), p. 111-12]
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The following reference to the case, from 1824, gives the sex of the criminal as male.
“in Bonhours, who felled his victim with a mallet, to rob them of their money.”
[The Phrenological Journal and Miscellany, Volume 1, Dec. 1823 – Aug. 1824, p. 30]
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