In 2008, a remarkable artifact surfaced at the German auction house Hermann Historica: a hollowed-out book from the 17th century, ingeniously transformed into a secret cabinet. This “Assassin Cabinet” contained eleven drawers, each labeled with the Latin names of various plants, many known for their toxic properties.
The drawers were designed to hold substances such as Hyoscyamus niger (henbane), Aconitum napellus (monkshood), and Cicuta virosa (water hemlock). Historically, these plants have been associated with both medicinal uses and nefarious purposes. For instance, henbane was utilized in medieval concoctions for its psychoactive effects, while monkshood was notorious in ancient Rome as a preferred poison, leading to its cultivation being banned. Water hemlock, extremely toxic, has been speculated to be the hemlock used in ancient Greek executions, though this remains uncertain.
Kristian Peters
The dual nature of these plants—capable of healing or harming—adds to the intrigue of this artifact. The presence of medicinal plants like valerian, known for its calming effects, alongside deadly species like deadly nightshade (belladonna), suggests that the Assassin Cabinet could have belonged to an apothecary or healer. Alternatively, it might have been the toolkit of an assassin, equipped with a range of poisons.
Adding to its enigmatic allure, the inside cover of the book features a skeleton illustration, accompanied by the Latin phrase “Statutum est hominibus semel mori,” translating to “It is a fact that man must die one day.” This memento mori theme was prevalent in art and literature of the period, serving as a reminder of mortality.
The craftsmanship of the Assassin Cabinet is noteworthy, with each drawer meticulously labeled and fitted, reflecting the era’s fascination with creating elaborate objects that combined functionality with artistic expression. Such items were often featured in Kunstkammers, or cabinets of curiosities, collections that showcased exotic and intriguing objects to reflect the collector’s knowledge and interests.
Whether this hollowed-out book served as an assassin’s arsenal or a healer’s repository remains a mystery. Its existence offers a glimpse into the complex interplay between medicine and poison in the early modern period, highlighting how the same natural substances could be wielded for vastly different purposes. This artifact not only captivates with its ingenuity but also prompts reflection on the fine line between life and death, healing and harm, in a time when the two were often intertwined.
