Charles Delauney Bravo, born in 1845, was a promising London lawyer with a respectable income and social standing. In November 1875, he married Florence Ricardo, a wealthy widow whose first husband, Captain Alexander Ricardo, had died under murky circumstances in 1871. Florence brought significant wealth to the marriage, including The Priory, a grand residence in Balham where the couple settled. However, their union was far from idyllic. Charles, known for his domineering personality, clashed with Florence over finances and her independence, while rumors swirled about her past, including an affair with Dr. James Gully, a prominent physician and homeopath.
Adding complexity to the household was Jane Cox, Florence’s companion and confidante, who lived at The Priory with her three sons. Jane, a respectable but enigmatic figure, played a pivotal role in the events that followed. The household also included several servants, whose testimonies would later prove critical—and contradictory—during the inquests.
On the evening of April 18th, 1876, the then thirty-year-old Charles Bravo dined at home with Florence and Jane Cox. After retiring to bed, he suddenly fell violently ill, vomiting and crying out in agony. Servants alerted Florence, who summoned medical help. Over the next three days, Charles endured excruciating pain, with symptoms including vomiting, abdominal cramps, and collapse. Despite the efforts of multiple doctors, including the renowned Sir William Gull, Charles died on April 21st.
An autopsy revealed the cause of death: poisoning by antimony, a toxic metalloid commonly found in medicines like tartar emetic but lethal in large doses. The quantity in Charles’s system—estimated at twenty to thirty grains—was far beyond medicinal use, pointing unmistakably to foul play.
The case triggered two coroner’s inquests, both held at The Priory and widely reported in the press. The first, concluding in May 1876, returned an open verdict due to insufficient evidence of how the poison was administered. Public outcry and media frenzy prompted a second inquest in July, lasting twenty-three days and featuring over eighty witnesses. It was a spectacle, with newspapers dissecting every detail of the Bravo household’s dysfunction.
Suspicion fell primarily on three figures. Firstly, Charles’s wife, Florence, had motive. The marriage was strained, and Charles’s control over her fortune caused resentment. Her prior affair with Dr. Gully, who was known to use antimony in treatments, fueled speculation. However, Florence was bedridden with a miscarriage during Charles’s illness, and no direct evidence linked her to the poison.
Secondly, Jane Cox’s ambiguous role in the household also made her a prime suspect. She admitted to owning laudanum but denied handling antimony. During the second inquest, Jane claimed Florence had confessed to poisoning Charles, a statement she later retracted under pressure. Her shifting testimony damaged her credibility, but no concrete proof emerged.
Lastly, Dr. James Gully’s past relationship with Florence and his expertise with antimony made authorities likewise view him with suspicion, though he was never formally charged. His presence in the case added a scandalous dimension, as Victorian society frowned upon such liaisons.
Servants reported seeing a bottle of tartar emetic in the stables, used for horses, but its connection to Charles’s poisoning was unclear. Charles himself, in his lucid moments, insisted he had taken nothing but his usual medicines, ruling out suicide. The absence of a clear delivery method—whether in food, drink, or medicine—baffled investigators.
The second inquest concluded with a verdict of willful murder by person or persons unknown. No one was ever charged, and the case remains unsolved. The lack of forensic sophistication in 1876, combined with conflicting witness statements, hindered the investigation. Further, antimony’s slow-acting nature made it difficult to pinpoint when and how it was administered, and the household’s complex dynamics obscured motives.
The case ruined the reputations of several of the main players. Florence, shunned by society, died of alcoholism in 1878 at age thirty-three. Jane Cox faded into obscurity, while Dr. Gully’s career suffered significant setbacks. The Bravo mystery became a cultural touchstone, inspiring TV shows, plays, and books, including Shirley Jackson’s 1962 novel We Have Always Lived in the Castle.
Crime Immemorial 