MEMOIR OF ZULMA MARACHE,
WRITTEN BY HERSELF,
In the City Prison, New York.
It was in the beginning of July, 1842, that I first became acquainted with Napoleon Lareux, since when he continued his visits until the 8th of October, 1842.1 Without speaking of what his intention might be in coming to see me, he came to my dwelling Saturday, October 8th, 1842, and asked me if I would not marry him. I answered “yes.” Napoleon said, “Very well;” adding that he could not marry me before the month of May following. I answered him that I was content that it should not take place till the following May. On Sunday, the 6th of November, 1842, I first had connection with Lareux, and on the 28th of the same month, I perceived that I was enceinte.2 I told my condition to Lareux that evening; he said “It was nothing, he would make reparation for his fault.”3 Two days after, which was Wednesday, Nov. 30th, 1842, Napoleon Lareux told me that he was going to bring me medicines to the kill the child; I told him I would not make use of them.4 Napoleon Lareux answered that if I would not take the medicine, he would poison me, as he was determined to kill the child; that I should die with it if I would not attend to what he said, as his position then did not permit him to marry me; that if I preserved the child, he would be obliged to marry me before the time fixed and also that he had reasons which forced him to do that, seeing that certain arrangements must be made with his brother, Remy Lareux, who, if he knew that it was his intention to marry, would no more employ him in his store. 5 And, “besides this,” said Napoleon, “what would the public say, if we had a child before being married.” He hoped I would consider all that, that he would once more warn me, and that I must take all he should give me to take; otherwise he would kill both myself and the child.6
Born in France, Napoleon Loreaux emigrated to the United States sometime in the 1830s; in October 1840 he petitioned to become a naturalized citizen (“Napoleon”). Although the historical record depicts his name as “Loreaux,” the Herald and other English-language papers generally spelled his name “L-a-r-e-u-x” or a variation thereof.
“Connection” refers to sexual intercourse; enceinte was an indirect way to refer to pregnancy.
In her statement, Marache asserted that Loreaux claimed that he would marry her as reparation for her pregnancy, a detail omitted here (People).
The “medicines” would have consisted of herbs or herbal compounds known to induce miscarriage, such as pennyroyal or oil of tansy (Riddle 228-256).
Napoleon’s elder brother, Remy Loreaux, was a well-known basket importer and merchant. The “Memoir” depicts him as an influential figure who both protected and controlled his brother.
Paragraph break added.
I persisted in refusing to take the medicine; he threatened me more and more, and even raised his hand to strike me, for not attending to what he said. Seeing Napoleon so furious, I prayed him to be moderate, and told him that he must be a heartless man, if he should strike me in my then condition. He then stopped, and I commenced to speak to him of the child, that it would be of no importance for me to have a child before we were married. On hearing this, Napoleon Lareux arose in a fury, and went away, saying, “that I might be sure my life was finished.” These were the last words he spoke to me on that night, Wednesday, Nov. 30th, 1842. Napoleon Lareux did not return until Saturday, Nov. 3, 1842.7 He had brought in his pocket a bottle containing something to drink, which he hid among boards in Mr. Ponsot’s yard, and came in without it.8 On entering, he addressed my mother and myself, saying, “How do you do?” I answered, we were very well, and put the same question. He replied roughly, that he was not well, because he had been annoyed. I asked him the subject of his annoyance; he told me he would let me know that again. He then approached me quite closely, and told me in a very low voice that he would let me know the subject of his annoyance as soon as my mother should not be attending to us; and in order that my mother would not understand, Napoleon spoke to me in English, as my mother did not understand it. As soon as Napoleon Lareux saw my mother engaged through the house, he took the opportunity to inform me that he felt annoyed because I had not attended to what he had commanded me to do on the previous Wednesday, Nov. 30, 1842. I answered that I was no more disposed then, Saturday, December 3rd, than I was before, to do it. Napoleon said, “Very well, I also will keep my word; I will poison you as sure as I am called Napoleon.” At a quarter to ten, my mother went to bed; shortly after the clock struck ten, Napoleon Lareux said he was going away, and as I was conducting him to the door, he returned again for a glass that was on the chimney board. I asked Napoleon what he wished to do with the glass; he said he was going to show it to me, and told me to remain in the entrance and wait for him, as he wanted to go into the yard. He placed the glass down outside, and went into the yard, without telling why. An instant afterwards he returned, with a bottle in his hand, when I asked him what he meant to do with it. He said I would shortly see. Napoleon uncorked the bottle, and poured out a glass full of its contents, and commanded me to drink. I asked him what he wished me to drink. He said I did not require to know what it was, nor to ask him any questions about it. Napoleon again repeated that I must drink it, and if I did not do so willingly I should do so by force; and added, that I had no reason to be afraid—that it was simply a sort of drink that he had purchased himself from Dr. Abeillé, No. 18 1/2 Reade Street, whom I did not know.9 Napoleon again offered me the glass, saying, “Make haste and drink.” I said, “No, I will not drink it.” On seeing that I would not drink it, he put down the glass, seized me by the neck with one hand, and with the glass in the other, said—“You must drink it!” I answered, “No, no; I will not drink it.” At that moment Madame Angelo Montelila, who lives on the third floor, up stairs, went out of her room, and walked in the entrance, making noise sufficient to be heard from below.10 When Napoleon heard that noise, he pressed me the more to take it, saying, “Drink—drink—or we are lost!” I still refused; upon which he pressed me so forcibly, explaining, “Drink, I tell ye!” that I did not know where I was. At that instant Madame Angelo Montelila made so much noise above, that Napoleon became afraid that she saw us. He then forced the drink into my mouth, closing my nose to make me drink it. Finding myself forced, by my breath being stopped, I did drink. After he had forced me to drink, he corked the bottle, put it in his pocket, and returned to place the glass where he found it.
This should read Saturday, Dec. 3, 1842.
Marache’s landlord, George Ponsot, was a French immigrant and artisanal cabinet maker whose family became entangled in Marache’s growing conflicts with Loreaux and her upstairs neighbor, Catharine Guetal.
John Abeille, a long-established French physician with deep ties to New York City’s French community.
Elizabeth Montelila was Marache’s third-floor neighbor at 90 Leonard Street.
A few minutes afterwards Madame Angelo Montelila came down stairs; but she noticed nothing, as Napoleon Lareux had arranged every thing. This was the first time that he made me use this drink, namely, Saturday, December 3d, 1842. I asked him if he thought that I was going to take care of the drink for him; and said if he did he deceived himself, because I did not wish to see a single drop of it coming into the house. Napoleon Lareux answered, that he did not suppose I would take care of it; because he would be afraid that if I took it into my own custody I would not drink any of it; but he was not inconvenienced by that, for he had already a person and a place to take care of it, and that this person and place was Madame Geutal and Madame Guetal’s house.11 This was all he said, and he immediately went up stairs to the second floor, above our dwelling, where Madame Geutal lives. I then returned into our house, and rinsed the glasses, in order that my mother might not perceive that it had contained the liquor. Next day, Sunday, 4th December, 1842, Madame Guetal called me into her sleeping apartment, and communicated to me as she had been instructed by Napoleon Lareux. It was to the effect that she had been charged by Napoleon Lareux to give me some of the drink three times a day, in the morning, at noon, and in the evening; and that if I did not comply, she was to inform him of it; that it was not requisite for him to speak of it any more; and that as she was charged with the commission she wished to discharge it. Madame Guetal said she would not allow me to quit the chamber until I took a glass of the liquor. She then filled a glass of it, and presented it to me, saying, “make haste and drink.” I observed to Madame Guetal that I did not wish to drink it. She commenced to use offensive language to me, and threatened to tell Napoleon Lareux. She then made me drink it. At noon Madame Guetal again called me into her dwelling, and made me drink another glass of it, and said, that as soon as Napoleon would come, she would tell him of my unwillingness to drink that liquor. That night, which was Sunday, December 3, 1842.12 Napoleon Lareux came, and asked me if I would go with him to Madame Guetal’s. I said “yes.” As soon as we entered the room, Madame Guetal said to Napoleon Lareux that I would not drink the liquor. He then told her to put some in the glass, that he might make me drink it, and if I did it not with a good will, he would force me. Madame Guetal filled a glass, which Napoleon took from her hands; he immediately took me by the nose and poured it into my mouth. This was the second time that Napoleon made me drink it himself. Napoleon Lareux continued to bring this liquor until he had brought six bottles, of the size of wine bottles; and Madame Guetal continued to make me drink until they were finished. Napoleon told me that he had purchased the six bottles of this drink from Dr. Abeillé, No. 18 1/2 Reade Street. When Madame Guetal had made me finish the six bottles, it proved of no more effect than if I had taken nothing. Napoleon told me that he was going to return to see Dr. Abeillé. On his return he told me that Dr. Abeillé had said, that it was necessary to make me use mustard baths. 13 These I commenced to use on Sunday, January 16, 1843, and continued to do so for a week and a half. 14 They had no more effect than the drink which I was forced to take. Napoleon, on seeing this, said he would return to see this Dr. Abeillé. He came back, bringing with him a small bottle of drugs, which was on Saturday night, January 28, 1843. Napoleon Lareux told me that he had purchased that drug himself in Dr. Abeillé’s, and that the doctor commanded that I should be made to take six drops of it in a glass of water for three nights, and if that produced no effect, to increase the dose by two drops every night. He then brought the bottle to Madame Guetal’s, and explained to her how Dr. Abeillé had ordered the drugs to be taken. Next day being Sunday, January 29, 1843, Madame Guetal gave me six drops in a glass of water, as the doctor had ordered during three nights, and as Napoleon had instructed her. She increased the dose, finding that the six drops produced no effect; but instead of giving me the dose in a glass of water, as Dr. Abeillé had directed, Madame Guetal diminished the water every night, that it might have the greater effect.
Madame Guetal continued to make me take of this liquor, as much as twelve drops at a time, remarking that it was not sufficiently strong. Still the twelve drops had no more effect than the six; upon which Napoleon told me he would go back to Dr. Abeillé. On returning, he told me that he told Dr. Abeillé that I had taken twelve drops at a time without effect, and that Dr. Abeillé enquired if the person who had used the medicine was strong or weak; that he answered the Dr. that she was a very small person, and of very delicate health; that the Dr. said, no more than fifteen drops should be given, for more than that would injure my health. All this Napoleon Lareux told to Madame Guetal. On Friday and Saturday, the 10th and 11th of February, 1843, Madame Guetal gave me fifteen drops at a time, in about one fourth of a glass of water, instead of filling the glass, as Dr. Abeillé had directed. Next day, Sunday, 12th February, 1843, Madame Guetal gave me for the last time some of the drug; but she then gave me such a strong dose that I was sick the whole evening and night. I did not wish to take it for I was afraid it would injure me, and told her so. 15 She took me by the arm pressing me, saying, “Take courage, and make haste,” and made me drink it. Napoleon Lareux came to our house on the night that Madame Guetal had made me take that strong dose, and on entering, asked me how I did. I replied that I was not very well, and that I thought it was because Madame Guetal had given me too strong a dose of the drug. Napoleon observed that it was of no consequence, that it would pass away.
On Monday, 13th February, 1843, Napoleon came to our house, and asked me if the strong dose that Madame Guetal had given me on the previous evening had produced any effect. I informed him that the only effect it had was to make me sick the whole night. Lareux said to me that there remained for him but one thing to do, and that was to send me to Madame Costello, No. 34 Lispenard Street, as he had told me some days before.16 I asked him if he thought seriously of what he said. He answered yes, as he had sent me some days before to Madame Costello’s, to ask her if she would displace the child17 and that he was still in the same disposition, seeing that the medicine had no effect, and that it was necessary for me to go [the] next morning without failure. Napoleon Lareux then drew a small bottle out of his pocket; it was enveloped in paper, and I saw the cork only. He said he would make me drink of what he had in the bottle if I did not go to Madame Costello. Fear so much got the better of me, at the thought of being poisoned, that I became crazy. Napoleon afterwards told me that he had brought money with him expressly for that purpose, amounting to ten dollars, which he said he had borrowed in Jean Baptista Stouvenelle’s. 18 It consisted of two bills of $5 each. He also told me that he was unwilling to ask this $10 at the store of his brother, Remy Lareux, where he was employed, lest he might be questioned. He told me to ask Madame Costello, when I should go to her house, how much she charged, and if it was more than ten dollars he would bring me the balance another time.19
Catharine Guetal lived on 90 Leonard Street’s second floor with her husband, George, a piano maker, and several children. She and Loreaux appear to have been close. In addition to overseeing Marache’s consumption of the abortifacients in August 1843 she sued Marache for slander. James R. Whiting, the District Attorney, suggested that her suit was deliberately timed to derail Marache’s own civil suit for breach of promise of marriage against Loreaux, which it did (“General," March 24).
December 3rd was a Saturday.
Mustard baths were often recommended as treatments for health issues ranging from inflammation to muscle cramps (Mohr 6-7).
Sunday was the 15th, so the reference is either to Sunday, January 15 or Monday, January 16, 1843.
Some abortifacients were “chemically harmless” quack medicine. However, ergot, oil of tansy, and others could be quite dangerous and poison the woman taking them (Mohr 52). The “Memoir” records Marache as going to Guetal’s to retrieve the bottle of medicines she consumed; these were later analyzed by physicians. They testified during the March 1844 abortion trial that the solution Marache had taken was iodine and unlikely to produce an abortion (“General,” March 22). The increasingly concentrated doses were, however, enough to make Marache ill.
Madame Costello was the non-de-plume for Catharine Maxwell, whose advertisements for “Female Periodical Pills” and services “For the Ladies” promised discrete treatment of women’s pregnancies. The New York Herald frequently ran Costello’s advertisements for “Female Periodical Pills” (“Madame”) and for her lying-in hospital (“Important”).
displace the child; terminate the pregnancy.
Jean Baptiste Stouvenel was a French wine seller and importer. According to Doggett’s City Directory, his shop was located on the corner of Ann and Nassau Streets. His home address was 160 William, where Remy Loreaux also lived and I suspect that Napoleon Loreaux lived as well.
Paragraph break added.
The next day, Tuesday, 14th February, 1843, I went to the house of Madame Costello, No. 34 Lispenard Street, and told her that Napoleon Lareux expressly wished that she should displace the child, because he said he could not marry then; and that if I did not do all that he told me, that the would poison me. I asked her how much was her charge; upon which she inquired if the young man was rich. I answered that I did not believe he was; that he was a young man, employed in the store of his brother, Remy Lareux, an importer of French baskets. Madame Costello then told me that the price would be fifteen dollars.20 I told her that Napoleon Lareux had given me but ten dollars. She replied that that was immaterial; that I could procure from Napoleon Lareux the other five dollars, and bring it another time.21 Madame Costello then made me go up stairs, and go into a small front chamber. There was in that chamber a bed, a chair, a wash-stand, an easy chair, and a water pot. She told me to remain in the chamber until her return. An instant afterwards she returned. I saw nothing in her hands. I do not know whether she had her instruments in her pocket, but I did not see them. She made me lie down on my side on the bed, and commenced operating on my person. 22 She was about five minutes before finishing, and during all that time I suffered extremely. After finishing, she washed the instrument in a vessel in the room. I remained some minutes after on the bed, that my agony might subside, which I had felt since the operation by Madame Costello. I got up and went away. On returning home, and seeing again Madame Guetal, I asked her if she knew where Napoleon Lareux had sent her. She said she knew it well, as Lareux had told her to follow me, in order to see whether I went or not. I did not know whether Madame Guetal did follow me or not.
$15 dollars in 1843 amounts to $681.32 in 2025 terms (“Inflation”).
Such negotiations were common among female abortion providers and their clients as they adjusted their fees to clients’ socioeconomic status. Maria Bodine, a client of Costello’s competitor Madame Restell, shared a similar experience when she testified in an 1847 court case against Restell (Wonderful 7).
The “operation” consisted Costello of inserting a sharp object, such as a knitting needle, into Marache’s uterus. Here is one area of the “Memoir” in which it seems Marache is responding to questions, in this case about the instruments and what she observed of Costello’s business practices.
The same day, Tuesday, February 14th, 1843, two hours after dinner, I received an anonymous letter addressed to my mother, who, not being at home did not see it, nor even know of anything which took place. She returned in the evening. The next day (Wednesday, February 15th, 1843,) Mons. Mignien came in search of my mother, to go and take care of his wife, who thought that her accouchement was about to take place that day. 23 The same day Napoleon Lareux came to Madame Guetal’s, to tell her that he had received a letter from Buffalo, and that he wished to give the compliments of those persons who had written. I was in Madame Guetal’s when Napoleon arrived. It might be about 5 o’clock P.M. I told him that when he went down stairs I would show him a letter that I had received the previous evening. Madame Guetal said that it was true that I had received a letter not at all advantageous to the one or the other. I went down stairs with Napoleon, and showed him the letter that I had received. He asked me if I did not suspect some one who might have written those letters. He added that they must have been written by some person aware of all that had taken place, and that Madame Ponsot had received one also from the same motive. 24 A moment after, I told Napoleon Lareux that I wanted to go out to procure some fringe to trim a black silk dress that I had to make, and asked him to go with me, because since receiving that letter I was afraid to go out alone. He said he was quite willing to do so; that I must not be frightened with these letters; that I must no further think of them; that they signified nothing.
Napoleon and I set out together. I took the letters with me, that I might show them to Madame Costello at the same time. We first went to look for the fringe in Canal Street, whence I went to Madame Costello’s, to show her the letters. I asked Napoleon Lareux to go in with me, but he said no; he would wait for me at the corner of the street. I then went alone into Madame Costello’s, and showed her the letters; also that which Madame Ponsot received. She read these letters, and observed it was nothing; but if any further discovery should be made, I must say it was untrue, because it might place us in trouble. 25 I then left, and before reaching home met Napoleon Lareux again. I was so seized with pain that I could not advance a step. 26 Napoleon Lareux asked me what ailed me. I told him I was very bad, and that I should have much trouble to get home. He told me to have courage, and that he would walk more slowly. I grew worse and worse. The very moment I arrived at the house it was necessary to put me to bed. Napoleon Lareux himself undressed me. He then went up to Madame Guetal’s, to tell her to come down and arrange me, as she understood better than he such matters. Madame Guetal said when she came down that it would be necessary to hide it from my mother, who thus far knew nothing of it—that she had brought with her some old sheets to put in the bed, that my mother might perceive nothing. Madame Guetal, after arranging, put me to bed herself. This was about 9 o’clock at night. When Madame Guetal had finished, she want up stairs again; Napoleon remained alone with me. He kindled the fire, and went to buy some oil for the lamp, which had been burned out.
Accouchment; the process of giving birth. Constance was called to serve as midwife.
The “Memoir” reveals that Marache and involved parties received several letters. One, which was admitted into evidence during the abortion trial and addressed to "Madame Ponsot," preceded Marache’s abortion. The text, which the Herald reproduced in its March 22, 1844 “General Sessions” column, exhorted Ponsot to tell Constance Marache that her daughter was pregnant. Although both the “Memoir” and the Herald’s coverage of the trial refer to letters received after February 15, 1843, meither specify their contents.
As I document in “‘Thus Did Restell,’” in the early 1840s, physicians and journalist began to fuel outrage against abortion and female abortion providers such as Costello. This resulted in the enforcement of New York State’s once-neglected abortion code, which considered early-term abortions misdemeanors. Costello knew the dangers of calling attention to her practice and sought to avoid it. She was unsuccessful. Marache's case was just one of many she was involved in between 1844 and 1850.
Marache’s body had begun to expel the fetus.
As Madame Mignien’s accouchement did not take place that day, my mother returned on the same evening; on entering, and seeing no body but Napoleon Lareux in the room, she asked him where I was; to which he replied that I was in bed. My mother asked what was the matter with me, and he answered that I was merely a little indisposed. I told my mother on her enquiry what ailed me—that it was the cholic, but that I hoped it would not signify. Napoleon came to the bed and told me that as my mother had come, he was about to go away, but that he would return after supper to know how I was. He then went. My mother told me that from the manner in which I suffered, she knew very well that it was no ordinary cholic that I had. I was indeed suffering extremely. She asked me to tell her the truth, that she might take care of me in a proper way for my condition. 27 Fearing that she would scold me, I persisted in making light of my sickness. At half past 8 Napoleon returned—came close by me, and enquired how I was. I informed him that I was very ill. Napoleon told me to take courage, that he hoped it would soon be finished. He told me if I wanted any thing he would go and buy it for me. I asked him to go and get for me some camomile [sic] tea, at the corner of Walker Street and Broadway. 28 He bought two packets of it, at six cents per packet. On his return I asked my mother to make a little for me, saying that it might banish the cholic. It was 10 1/2 o’clock when Napoleon Lareux went away. I still remained in the utmost agony.29
Cholic; Marache claimed she had illness-related nausea and cramping. Constance’s role as a midwife familiar with pregnancy and miscarriage symptoms heightened the stakes for Marache.
Chamomile tea was used for its soothing properties. It was common for women to consume it after giving birth. It was also known to offer “relief for the suppression of menses,” that is, to induce miscarriage (Dai et al.; Riddle 229).
Paragraph break added.
At 11 1/2 o’clock on that night, Wednesday, 18th February, 1843,30 the infant came; upon which I took the sheet that Madame Guetal had put in the bed, to wrap round the child, and the other clothes which were in bed; I made a parcel of all that and put it between the bed and the wall, in order that my mother might not find it. The next day, being Thursday, my mother searched every place to see if she could find anything, but as I had kept it in the same place, she found nothing. At 9 o’clock in the morning, my mother went for some meat to make soup. I took advantage of her absence to call Madame Guetal. I took a stick and rapped, to bring down Madame Guetal, because she had told me that as soon as my mother would go out I should call her, and she would take away the child. When she came I asked her to do so; she said she could not take it in that way; for if my mother came, she might ask her what she carried; but she had a way in which she could deceive my mother, which was, to put on her shawl and her bonnet, to take her basket in her hand, as though she was going to the market—that she should bring the child in the basket—that in any case should my mother meet her, she could suspect nothing.31 Madame Guetal went up stairs to put on her shawl and bonnet and took her basket, and immediately came down again. She took the parcel which contained the child and put it in her basket, and went up stairs to her own dwelling again. A few minutes after, my mother came back again. I told her I wished to get up, when she said I might do so—because she hoped to find something in the bed—I rose, and my mother commenced a search in the bed, but she found nothing, as Madame Guetal had taken it away. In the afternoon I went up to Madame Guetal’s, and asked her to show me the child—she did so. Its sex was discernible. It was a male child, I then discovered. I then descended. The day passed without my seeing Napoleon Lareux, because he was himself sick on that day. Friday next I went out to the yard, as Madame Ponsot had frequently asked for me, and in order that nobody would suspect anything in the house I went into Madame Ponsot. 32 But there was so much snow and such a strong thaw that I caught a cold, the effects of which have been internal pain for a long time; and I have never been in perfect health since then. 33 Friday, 17 February, 1843, Napoleon Lareux returned, and told me that he did not come again on Thursday, because he had been sick; and that his sickness was caused through fear that my case would not turn out well for me; and that he would have it always to reproach himself with, if my death should occur. The same day Napoleon Lareux brought me a bottle of wine, and told me he had bought it in J.B. Stouvenell’s; and that he had bought it expressly to give me strength—that he had payed four shillings per bottle, and that I might drink of it without fear, and that when I had drank the bottle he would bring me more.34
Wednesday was the 15th, not the 18th.
The dashes here suggest that Marache was responding to questions, and that a third party recorded her answers.
Marache feared neighbors’ nosiness and the possibility of rumors. She made it a point to make herself visible to her neighbors.
Marache is unusual because she in that she does not blame her lingering ill health on the abortion. It was common for female physicians’ clients to claim that their products or operations had damaged their health, and for lawyers to make that claim for them in service to larger arguments regarding men’s medical authority, especially in the realms of obstetrics and gynecology. Two of the most pivotal abortion cases of the 1840s hinged on these arguments. See my “‘Thus Did Restell’” and Carlson, The Crimes of Womanhood, pp. 110-135.
Loreaux bought the wine from the shop of the man who had loaned him the money for Marache’s abortion.
When Napoleon Lareux was ready to go away, he went up stairs to Madame Guetal’s, to take away the child; and on coming down stairs, he came into our house to bid good night. I went to conduct him as far as the door; he told me that Mad. Guetal had given him the child, and that he had rolled it in his pocket handkerchief, and put the whole in his pocket. I asked Napoleon Lareux, if he would preserve the child for me in spirits of wine; and that if he would do so, I would give him a vase to put it in.35 He told me he would do what was possible to preserve it; that I did not require to give him the vase, as he would find all he required in the druggist’s who lived in the same house with him. He then went away. The next day (Saturday) February 18, 1843, he came again, bringing to me two bottles of the same wine. I at once asked him if he had brought the child. He said no, for he was afraid that his brother Remy Lareux should see it, and that he had not on this account preserved the child as directed. On asking him what he did with it, he told me that he had buried it in his cellar. A few days after I had the child, Napoleon gave me to understand that he intended to quit me. I reproached him; but he said it was not his fault—that his brother Remy Lareux was speaking of sending him to France. Another time he told me, that if he wished to have done with me, it was because the child was not his. I said to him, if he believed it was not his, why did he not leave me it, and not kill it; he replied that he did that in order that he might not have to pay for its support. I told him that it was frightful, that he should conduct himself as he did. He said it was the only means left him to draw himself out of trouble.
The preservation of miscarried offspring’s tissue was not uncommon in the mid-nineteenth century. Grieving parents often willingly shared the tissue physicians, who studied the specimens to deepen their understanding of embryology. Families’ focus on the materiality of their loss sheds insight into how people processed the loss of unborn children (Withycombe, “Meanings and Materials of Miscarriage” and Loss).
In the later end of the month of February, 1843, Napoleon Lareux ceased entirely to visit me; but he still went to Madame Guetal’s. One Sunday night that Lareux had gone to Madame Guetal’s, I watched him to see when he would go away; on his coming down I requested him to come in, as my mother was desirous of speaking to him.—This was Sunday, 2d April, 1843. She asked him wherefore he had entirely ceased to visit me; he replied that he could give no better reason than that it did not please him any more to come. She told him that was not the way to act; when one promised marriage to a girl he should keep his word; because he had said that his word was sacred, that ought to be enough. Napoleon Lareux avowed to my mother that he had promised me marriage, but that he did not then wish to marry me, and he would not. My mother asked him what reason had he for refusing—upon which he said, he had no other reason than that he was not then decided to marry, as he had been. There was no more said about marriage by my mother; but she told him that to act as he had done, was to act as a good for nothing man; he replied that he did not care for that—that he was master of his own actions—that he would do as he pleased, and then went out. 36 Tuesday, April 5, 1843, Napoleon Lareux came again to Madme Guetal’s, and I again watched him to see when he would descend. I asked him when he came down, to tell me if he had any reasons for quitting me, as he would not tell my mother. He again told me that it was because the child was not his, that he would not marry me; it was true he had promised to do so, but that he never should. Upon this he went away. On Friday, 6th May, 1843, 37 I received a second letter without signature, and Mr. Remy Lareux also received one the same day. My mother was at home when I received the letter, and she wanted to know its contents. From that moment I was unable any longer to hide from her that I had had a child. After I had read it I went to Madame Guetal to show it to her, telling her that it was a letter of the same description as the former that I had had in the month of February preceding. Madame Guetal proceeded to make use of abusive language to me, telling me it was not true; she even told me that I myself had written that letter, to make Napoleon Lareux marry me. I told her she was mistaken, that I was as innocent of that as I was of the first. Madame Guetal replied that I was a liar. As I had given to her the first letter to take care of as well as that which Madame Ponsot had received, I made my sister go up stairs that I might ask them before her; also the little bottle of medicine that Napoleon Lareux had brought to her 28th January, 1843, and I took again the $5 that Napoleon Lareux had given to Madame Guetal to return to me to bring to Madame Costello. 38 Madame Guetal then gave me the letters, the little bottle and the $5 in the presence of my sister, and told me that she knew I was innocent in the whole business, and that all that had taken place and that had been said, had been done and said by her and Napoleon Lareux; but that if ever it went into court, she would make a false oath against me, and that she would do me as much harm as she possibly could. All this she said in the presence of my sister. My sister and I then went downstairs. I afterwards went to Madame Costello’s to give her the $5 that Napoleon Lareux owed her, and at the same time took the letter that I had just received to show it to her. On arriving at Madame Costello’s I told her that had brought her the $5 that Napoleon Lareux owed her, and at the same time that I came to show her a letter that I had just received.
Madame Costello took the letter and read it, and told me, as on the first occasion, that that letter would amount to nothing; but if it went any further I must say that it was not true, because it would bring her into trouble. After that she asked me if Lareux continued to come to see me. I said not; that he had ceased to visit me since the end of February last, 1843. Since that was the case, she told me that she did not wish to take the $5, but wished me to keep them, which I did. I then went away from Madame Costello’s to Mons. Remy Lareux’s, and asked him if he had received a letter as had been mentioned in that which came to me. He informed me that he really had received one also; but that as soon as he had seen what it was he had burned it, and after that had sent his brother Napoleon Lareux into the country for some time, until he should see how the matter would turn. He remained in the country about three weeks. As soon as I heard that Napoleon Lareux had returned from the country, I went to his brother’s store to speak to him. I asked him if he had not spoken of me in some place, respecting the child I had; he said not; but I told him he must have done so, otherwise I should not have received letters such as that. He denied it on oath, but I told him that I did not believe him on his oaths, because he had not held to his word, in what he had promised me.
Afterwards, I asked Napoleon Lareux if it was true that he had buried the child in the cellar, as he had assured me; but he then answered that he had not been so stupid as to do so, lest subsequent searches might be made; and that if the child knew how to travel, he had given it a chance by throwing it into the river.
Constance Marache’s confrontation with Loreaux highlights gender inequities and double-standards: he could go back on his word without consequence, but her daughter remained unprovided for. Further, even if her pregnancy and abortion had not occurred, his mere abandonment would have damaged future marriage prospects. I interpret Marache’s subsequent breach of promise suit as at attempt to mitigate the potential financial damages of his breaking their engagement.
The 6th was a Saturday.
Marache’s actions and enlistment of her sister, Zelia, suggest that she was gathering evidence against those involved in her abortion. Zelia later reported her observations to the police and testified during the March 1844 abortion trial. The bottle of medicine and letter to Ponsot that Marache recounts gathering were admitted as evidence in the trial, as well (“General," March 22).
Works Cited
- Carlson, A. Cherree. The Crimes of Womanhood: Defining Femininity in a Court of Law. U of Illinois P, 2009.
- Dai, Yun-Lee, et al. “Chamomile: A Review of Its Traditional Uses, Chemical Constituents, Pharmacological Activities and Quality Control Studies.” Molecules, vol. 28, no. 1, 2022.
- “General Sessions.” New York Herald, March 22, 1844. Library of Congress, Chronicling America.
- “General Sessions.” New York Herald, March 24, 1844. Library of Congress, Chronicling America.
- “Important to Females.” New York Herald, February 11, 1843. Library of Congress, Chronicling America.
- “Inflation Calculator.” DaveManuel.Com.
- “Madame Costello.” New York Herald, February 12, 1844. Library of Congress, Chronicling America.
- Mohr, James. Abortion in America: The Origins and Evolution of National Policy. Oxford UP, 1978.
- “Napoleon Loreaux.” U.S. Naturalization Record Indexes, 1791-1992. Ancestry.com.
- People v. Catharine Costello, alias Maxwell, et. al. New York County District Attorney Indictment Records for 1790 to 1887. Microfilm, Roll 224. New York City Municipal Archives, Department of Records and Information Services, New York, NY.
- Riddle, John M. Eve’s Herbs: A History of Contraception and Abortion in the West. Harvard UP, 1997.
- “Stouvenel, John B.” The New York City and Co-Partnership Directory for 1843 & 1844. Vol. 2, New York: John Doggett Junior, Publisher and Proprietor, 1843, p. 325. Google Books.
- Withycombe, Shannon. Lost: Miscarriage in Nineteenth-Century America. New Brunswick UP, 2019.
- ---. “Meanings and Materials of Miscarriage: How Babies in Jars Shaped Modern Pregnancy.” Nursing Clio, October 31, 2018.
- Wonderful Trial of Caroline Lohman, alias Restell: with speeches of counsel, charge of court, and verdict of jury: reported in full for the National Police Gazette. 3rd edition. New York City: Burgess, Stringer, and co.[1847]. National Library of Medicine Digital Collections.