placed four little round tables, the pillar of each being hollow. As
in the experiment of Mr. Wheatstone, a piano, violoncello, violin, and
clarionet are placed in a lower room; the wooden rods attached to them
travel vertically upwards to the platform, pass through the pillars of
the small tables we have mentioned, and terminate a little above their
upper surface. These rods, as already stated, must throughout their
whole course be insulated, so to speak, from any vibrating substance,
so that they may lose nothing of their own vibrations. These matters
being arranged beforehand, we may proceed as follows to the experiment
to which we have referred, and which we may entitle--
* * * * *
_A Concert by the Spirits of another World._--The performer calls the
attention of the spectators to four locked money-boxes, made of very
thin deal, explaining that he holds captive therein certain “spirits,”
which, without the aid of any instrument, “discourse most excellent
music.” With this introduction, he places the boxes each upon one of
the rods in connection with the various instruments. The reader will
already have perceived that the money-boxes supply the place of the
harps, and answer the purpose of sounding-boards. The performer takes
care so to place them that the bottom of each rests fairly upon the
extremity of the deal rod. Each box has four little feet, so as to keep
the bottom clear of the surface of the table, and to prevent the box
from rocking.
As in the scientific form of the experiment, the exhibitor raps on
the boxes as a signal to the musicians to play on their respective
instruments, singly or together, as the case may be. A rap, given while
they are playing, serves as a command to cease.
As the spectators completely surround the platform, they are enabled
to make quite certain that the sounds really proceed from the
money-boxes; and this necessarily produces a very striking effect.
It may, however, suggest itself to some of those present that the boxes
contain mechanism specially adapted to produce the sounds, as is the
case, in fact, with ordinary musical-boxes. Should such be the case,
the remark to that effect which would naturally be made, would tend to
enhance the effect of the experiment, inasmuch as, when the concert is
over, the boxes are opened to show that there is nothing within, and
they are placed in the hands of the spectators, so as to be examined
with the greater freedom.
As a corollary to this series of experiments, I may here describe two
little tricks, based on the same principles, which I had fitted up in
my own house for the amusement of my friends. The first of these bore
the title of
* * * * *
_The Rapping Spirit._--This was a partial imitation of that
spiritualistic “manifestation” by means of which, from time to time,
certain persons specially gifted by a supreme power have conversed with
the invisible spirits of another world.
I must here confess that I have never had the good fortune to assist at
one of these mysterious conversations, earnestly as I desired to do so.
In the year 1857, a friend of mine, who, by reason of his unquestioning
belief in the supernatural powers of Mr. Home, had free access to that
gentleman, tried in vain to procure for me an opportunity of being
present at one of the private _séances_ of the celebrated American
medium. Home invariably shirked the encounter, and I was obliged to
rest satisfied with the marvellous accounts which were given me by more
privileged persons. Without any desire to dispute the truth of facts
of which I only knew by hearsay, I thought I might fairly venture to
reproduce one of the marvels in question by artificial means, and I
thereupon constructed my “spirit-rapper.” If the spiritual power of the
mediums has any foundation in fact, this innocent practical joke can
certainly do them no injury.[41]
The appliances of my spirit-rapping trick were fitted up in a
dining-room, which served also as an informal reception-room for
intimate friends. I gave the preference to this particular room because
the table served to conceal a certain portion of the apparatus of the
experiment.
The trick was exhibited as follows:--Taking a piece of iron wire of
about five feet in length, with a hook at each end, I hooked it into
a ring or screw-eye which was attached to the ceiling, and from which
it hung. To the lower hook I attached the handle of a small deal box,
which was thereby held suspended about twelve or thirteen inches above
the table.
The company took their places around the table, joining hands in order
to establish a magnetic circle; and, after a few moments of sober
meditation, of which I set the example by maintaining a demeanour of
unbending seriousness, we proceeded to ascertain the presence of the
spirit, which according to my account was imprisoned in the box.
“Spirit, are you there?”
Three smart raps inside the box gave a reply which carried conviction
to the minds of the hearers.
Each person then proceeded to put questions, to which the spirit
replied as briefly as possible; for, as is well known, in a
conversation of this kind, the talkers of the other world are much
behind ourselves in respect to linguistic methods. They are obliged,
in order to express a word, to take the letters which compose it
separately, and to indicate each of them by striking a number of raps
corresponding with the numerical position which such letter occupies in
the alphabet. One rap for A, two for B, three for C, &c., and so on, a
process which for some words becomes of necessity rather long-winded;
but one is disposed to be patient when engaged in the investigation of
facts of so surprising a character as those now under consideration.[42]
After a few minutes’ conversation, the “spirit” abruptly took
leave of the company, answering one of the questions asked by the
word “Good-bye;” and, however pressing the company might be for a
prolongation of the sitting, not another sound was heard.
The box being just level with the faces of the spectators, each was
able to satisfy himself that the raps really proceeded from thence; and
the astonishment was therefore great, when, unhooking and opening the
box, I passed it round for examination. As a general rule the company
departed without knowing quite what to believe as to the real cause of
the effect produced.
* * * * *
The idea of this trick was suggested to me by the experiment of Mr.
Wheatstone above described. I had, however, considerably modified its
practical working. Thus, instead of causing the sound-vibrations to
pass upwards through a deal rod, I made them pass downwards through
an iron wire to the money-box, which served as a sounding-board to
concentrate the sound.
The mechanical arrangements of the trick were as follows:--The ring
attached to the ceiling formed one end of a metal rod which passed
through the flooring and terminated in the room above, where it
was attached to a small flat piece of deal. This piece of deal was
supported by little indiarubber feet, to prevent the communication of
its vibrations to the floor of the room. An electro-magnet placed
on the little wooden slab (_see_ Fig. 19) was so arranged that its
keeper should strike on the continuation of the metal rod. Lastly, an
electric connecting stud placed close to my right foot, enabled me, by
pressing it, to close the circuit, and so to strike the number of raps
appropriate to the answer which I desired to give. It was, therefore,
as the reader will perceive, my own foot which played the part of the
rapping spirit.
[Illustration: Fig. 19.]
The explanation which I have above given and the annexed diagram will
sufficiently indicate what really takes place in this surprising
experiment: the sound of the percussion produced by the electro-magnet
is concentrated by the sounding-board, and this latter transmits its
vibrations to the money-box through the medium of the iron wire. The
spectators hear only the sounds which appear to come from the box.
* * * * *
When spirit-rapping had gone out of fashion, and my trick no longer had
the same foundation to rest upon, I transformed it into another, of a
still more interesting character, and which I entitled
* * * * *
_Waves of Sound._--The modification here made was very slight: there
was still the money-box suspended from the ceiling as before; but
the flat piece of wood above was replaced by one of those large
musical-boxes known as “Geneva” boxes, and it was to the bottom of
this box, which in this case formed the sounding-board, that the
continuation of the screw-eye was attached. The reader will perceive
that by this arrangement, whenever the musical-box was made to play,
all the sounds were reproduced in the money-box below, by reason of the
same principle already explained in the preceding trick.
In order to give a finish to the experiment, I had placed on a shelf in
one corner of the room another musical-box, the tunes played by which
were precisely identical with those of the box on the floor above.
I introduced the trick as a scientific experiment, and under the title
of “the transmission of waves of sound.”
After giving some few explanations as to the nature of sound-waves, I
declared that sounds could be made to travel from one sounding-board to
another, so long as both were tuned to precisely the same pitch, and
that, in illustration of the principle in question, the isolated and
suspended money-box would repeat the airs played by the musical-box.
(The musical-box below was of course alone in question, the existence
of the other being unknown.) I then pressed the stop (of the visible
box), but scarcely was the first phrase of the air completed, than I
abruptly stopped it. Instantly the company heard repeated by the wooden
box that portion of the air which had been played. I resumed, making
the musical-box play another phrase which was in like manner repeated,
and this was continued to the end of the tune.
This repetition of musical phrases was produced by the musical-box
placed on the floor above; and it was by the aid of electricity that
this latter was made to play when the other ceased to do so.
This illusion produced a very great effect, particularly when, as
in the previous experiment, the box was opened and handed round for
examination.
FOOTNOTES:
[39] Under the title of the “Telephonic Concert.”--ED.
[40] The deal rods at the Polytechnic were forty feet in length, and
passed through two intervening stories of the building. A still more
striking effect was obtained by transmitting (by the aid of a single
harp) a vocal quartette, the performers holding their faces down as
close as possible to the sounding-board of a piano. The absurdity
of their position was occasionally too much for the gravity of the
singers, and the quartette came to an abrupt conclusion amid peals
of laughter, which were faithfully transmitted by the harp to the
astonished audience.--ED.
[41] The reader will note with interest the impartial spirit in which
Robert-Houdin approaches the vexed question of spiritualism--in his
day a comparative novelty. In default of absolute certainty, he wisely
reserves his opinion. Where, however, as in the case of the Davenports,
he had an opportunity of personally observing the alleged “phenomena,”
he has neither difficulty in penetrating nor hesitation in denouncing
the imposture. (_See_ page 181, _et seq._) We venture to believe
that _any_ of the so-called spiritualistic manifestations which had
come under the test of Robert-Houdin’s examination would have met a
similar fate, and that Mr. Home showed a very sound discretion in not
submitting his “levitation” and “elongation” to so keen a critic.--ED.
[42] It is to be presumed that the more modern plan (of pointing with a
pencil at the letters of the alphabet in succession, a rap indicating
when the right one is reached), was not yet in use when Robert-Houdin
wrote.--ED.
CHAPTER XI.
THE DECAPITATED SPEAKING.
This ingenious illusion did not originally bear so ghastly a title. It
was exhibited under the name of the “_Sphinx_,” at the Egyptian Hall,
London, in 1865, by a conjuror known as Colonel Stodare. The inventor
of the trick, Mr. Tobin, the secretary of the Polytechnic Institution,
sold the secret to M. Talrich, a skilful modeller in wax, who was then
exhibiting on the Boulevard de la Madeleine, in Paris, a wax-work
collection, under the title of the _Musée Français_. His collection was
composed of a number of groups, mythological and otherwise, executed
with extraordinary perfection, particularly a scene representing the
celebrated surgeon, Dupuytren, delivering an anatomical lecture to
his numerous pupils. The scene in question was a happy thought of M.
Talrich, inasmuch as it gave him the opportunity to bring prominently
forward specimens of those anatomical preparations to which he owed his
reputation.
The trick of the _Sphinx_ suggested to M. Talrich the idea of adding
to his museum an exhibition of like nature to that of the famous
_Chamber of Horrors_, which Madame Tussaud had established in London,
in connection with her wax-work collection. With this notion, he
was induced to alter the _mise en scène_ of the _Sphinx_, which he
regarded, reasonably enough, as too mild for his intended purpose.
He transformed it into the _Decapitated Speaking_, and arranged it
for exhibition as follows:-- Underneath his museum there was a large
unoccupied cellar, accessible by means of a winding stair, the door of
which opened in the exhibition-room. This vacant space was appropriated
to the exhibition of the bodiless head. The cunning artist knew
better than to clean up and replaster the walls; on the contrary, he
carefully preserved their greenish mould and earthy dampness, and took
special pains that the surroundings should be in strict harmony with
the spectacle which was intended to be exhibited there, as the reader
may judge for himself by the following description. The staircase had
no light, save the dim yellow glimmer of one or two antique lamps which
hung from the vaulted roof. When the visitor reached the bottom, he
found himself face to face with a group, modelled in wax, representing
a scene under the Inquisition, every detail of the torture chamber
being represented in the most realistic manner. A burning torch, held
by an assistant executioner, alone illuminated the ghastly scene.
Moving onward and turning to the right, the spectator passed through
a dimly lighted corridor, and found himself in front of a balustrade,
breast-high, which extended across the entrance of a narrow recess. In
the middle of this gloomy cellar, the floor of which was carpeted with
musty straw, was seen a table, on which rested a human head leaning
slightly to one side, and apparently asleep. On being addressed by the
exhibitor, the head raised itself, opened its eyes, and related its
own history, including the details of its decapitation, after which
it replied, in various languages, to questions put by those present.
The whole exhibition was intensely horrible. So far, this eccentric
exhibition promised very favourably, and it is likely enough that the
public curiosity, which at once manifested itself, would have continued
for a long period, but the proprietor made one great mistake, and
that mistake was the ruin of his whole exhibition. The charge for
admission to the _Musée Français_ was one franc each person, which was
undoubtedly a very moderate price; but, if the visitor desired to see
the _Decapitated Speaking_, he had to pay five francs additional. Five
francs, for an exhibition which lasted for only five minutes, was out
of all reason. However, curiosity generally carried the day, and five,
ten, fifteen or twenty francs were handed over, according to the number
of the party. But the gentleman doing the polite to a party of ladies,
the paterfamilias with his children, the bachelor treating his friends,
though they paid without openly grumbling, felt a suppressed annoyance,
which not unfrequently expressed itself in the form of some petty act
of mischief. It was doubtless under the influence of a feeling of this
kind, that some persons were guilty of decidedly unjustifiable conduct
with reference to the Decapitated: they threw pellets at the enchanted
head, in order to test whether it had entirely lost all sensation. At
the first shot, the unhappy performer whose head alone was visible,
or at any rate, the head itself, made a wry face; at the second, it
looked very savage; at the third, forgetting its passive character, it
began to roundly abuse the offenders, and the exhibitor to call for
help, and to drive the spectators before him down the corridor. Scenes
of this kind got noised about in society, and sundry “swells,” having
nothing better to do, found it very good sport to go and take out the
worth of their five francs by shooting pellets at the infuriated head,
an amusement which they christened “pop-gun practice.” Some of the
pellets, being aimed by unskilful hands, struck certain portions of the
table, which were apparently _open_, but from which they rebounded,
clearly indicating that the supposed vacant space was really a sheet
of looking-glass. From this time forward the trick was “blown,” and
the public seemed to take a spiteful pleasure in spreading as widely
as possible the secret of the famous Decapitated. M. Talrich had put a
stop to the projectiles by placing a close-meshed wire grating between
the spectators and their victim, but the precaution came too late, and
proved superfluous. The struggle ceased for lack of combatants; and the
day of the _Musée Français_ was over. The _Decapitated Speaking_ had
been the ruin of the Olympian Deities, as well as of Dr. Dupuytren’s
scientific lecture.
The cause of M. Talrich’s failure was the same that brought disaster
to the brothers Davenport. Too great a confidence in the indulgence of
the Parisian public led both parties to offer what, after all, were
but ingenious conjuring tricks, as supernatural phenomena. On the other
hand, their imperfect acquaintance with our habits caused them to raise
the price of their exhibition beyond all reasonable limits.
Colonel Stodare, more sagacious or better skilled in theatrical
management, placed no such exaggerated value on his _Sphinx_, he
simply introduced it in his performances as an interlude between other
attractions, and claimed for it no higher prestige than that of an
ingenious trick. However, the _mise en scène_ demanded that some sort
of story should be told respecting it; and, accordingly, the trick
was presented after the following manner. The Colonel came forward to
the audience, carrying in his hand a closed box, and told them how,
in the course of his travels in Egypt, he had made the acquaintance
of a Magician, who, happening to die, had bequeathed to him the small
box in question, in which had been contained for ages past, the living
head of a _Sphinx_ endowed with the faculty of answering any questions
put to him. The performer then addressed the _Sphinx_ by name; when
it was heard to answer him from within the box. (It should here be
stated that Colonel Stodare was a ventriloquist.) He then placed the
precious chest upon a table, and let down the front, revealing to the
public gaze a handsome _Sphinx’s_ head, wearing an Egyptian head-dress
ornamented with golden fillets. The space under the table on which the
box was placed appeared to be entirely open. The _Sphinx_, intelligent
and ready-witted, replied with much tact and appropriateness to the
questions proposed by the spectators; after which, the Colonel closed
the box, took it again in his hand, made the prisoner say “Goodnight”
to the company, and retired behind the scenes with his precious burden.
Thus arranged, the trick became extremely popular, and its success was
only interrupted by the untimely death of the talented exhibitor.
The explanation of the trick is the simplest possible, and will be
understood without the slightest difficulty. The head which is seen
on the table belongs to the body of some poor devil whom poverty has
compelled to play daily the uncomfortable part of a man in the pillory.
Under cover of an arrangement of mirrors fitted to the legs of the
table, the confederate can place himself under the table, unseen, and
pass his head through a hole in the top. A special collar hides the
edges of the opening.
[Illustration: Fig. 20.]
The table rests only on three legs--C, D, E (Figs. 20 and 21),
although to the eye it appears to have four. Between these three legs,
in grooves made on purpose, are two sheets of silvered glass, G, G
(Fig. 21), behind which, as we have said, the confederate conceals
himself, taking up his position at H. These glasses are at a right
angle to each other, and at an angle of about 45° to the hangings on
either side of them. These latter, A and B, when reflected, correspond
with A′ and B′, and replace, to the imagination, that portion of the
drapery which is concealed by the two mirrors; so that the spectator is
persuaded that he still sees, under the table, the drapery in the rear.
[Illustration: Fig. 21.]
The _Sphinx_ was arranged after the same manner. The chest was empty
when Colonel Stodare first brought it forward; his ventriloquial
faculty producing the supposed voice from within. As soon as the chest
was placed on the table, the confederate beneath opened the trap which
closed the hole in the top, passed his head through the opening, and,
lifting up the bottom of the chest, which was movable, introduced his
head without any difficulty. The conjuror had then only to let fall the
front of the box, in order to display the head therein.
With a very slight knowledge of the laws of reflection, the reader can
easily satisfy himself that, unless they were quite close to and at
the side of the table, it is impossible that the spectators should see
in the mirrors anything but the reflected drapery. In point of fact,
matters are purposely so arranged that it cannot be otherwise. In the
case of Talrich’s exhibition, the actual walls of the cellar were
reflected in the mirrors.
CHAPTER XII.
THE PROTEAN CABINET.
The accompanying illustration will give some idea of the piece of
furniture used in the performance of the trick which we are about to
describe. It is, as will be seen, a kind of wardrobe with folding
doors, mounted on four feet with castors, which facilitate its being
brought forward on the stage and moved about as may be required.
* * * * *
_Description of the Trick._--A person steps into the cabinet, and the
doors are closed. The cabinet is turned completely round, in order to
show that there is no possible mode of exit for the captive, after
which, the doors are opened, and the cabinet is empty. Again the
doors are closed. The cabinet is once more turned completely round,
and, when the doors are opened for the last time, a transformation
is seen to have taken place: it was a man who originally entered the
cabinet--it is a woman who now comes from it.
* * * * *
_Explanation._--The principle of the trick has a close analogy to that
of the “Decapitated.” Two mirrors, suitably placed at the critical
moment in the cabinet, give it the appearance of an empty piece of
furniture, though it actually contains a human being.
[Illustration: Fig. 22.]
Fig. 23, annexed, is a ground plan of the cabinet, whose elevation is
shown in the preceding figure.
[Illustration: Fig. 23.]
A, B, C, D are the sides of the cabinet; P, P, its outer doors;
M, a wooden upright placed towards the front of the interior; G, G,
two doors or divisions of the same height as the inside of the cabinet.
These doors are hung on hinges working on the points I, I. They may
either be made to close against the upright M, or may be rendered
invisible by folding them back against the inner surface of the sides
A, B, C, D. This last is the position which they occupy when the
doors are first opened. At this stage of the proceedings, the gaze of
the spectator can penetrate into every part of the cabinet, which is
really empty.
When, however, the performer has entered the cabinet, and the outer
doors, P, P, are closed upon him, he places himself at H, pulls
towards him the two mirrors, thus bringing their edges against the
upright M, and forming a triangular enclosure, I, M, I, in which he
is shut in, and which conceals him from the eyes of the public. When
the outer doors are again opened, a similar illusory effect is produced
to that which we have described in the case of the Decapitated; the
mirrors of the cabinet reflect, to the eyes of the spectators, the
paper with which the sides K, K, are hung, and cause them to believe
that they see the back, L, L. There is nothing to suggest the
existence of the mirrors, and all appears to be in the same condition
as before.
It is indispensable, for the success of the experiment, that the
interior portions of the cabinet, K, K, and L, L, as well as the
backs, O, O, of the mirrors should be hung with paper of the same
pattern.
After having shown the company that there is nothing in the cabinet,
and having again closed the doors, the individual within (while the
cabinet is being turned round and a few explanations are given for
the purpose of gaining time) pushes G, G, back against K, K, to give
himself room to operate, and, as is sometimes done in pantomimes,
rapidly strips off his masculine raiment, beneath which he wears a
female costume, and conceals the discarded suit in a secret receptacle
in the upper part of the cabinet. As soon as his transformation is
complete, he gives an appointed signal for opening the doors, and
appears in his new character.
The transformations which I have above described are only incidental
to the trick proper. I only refer to them in order to give some idea
of the effects that may be produced by means of the illusion in
question.[43]
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[43] With the hint afforded by the above description the intelligent
reader will have little difficulty in solving the mystery of the much
improved Protean Cabinet employed by Messrs. Maskelyne and Cook in
their comic sketch entitled “Will, the Witch, and the Watch,” and will
be the better enabled to appreciate the ingenuity displayed not only
in the construction of the cabinet, but in the rapid and complicated
“changes” of the various characters.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE FEATS OF THE DAVENPORT BROTHERS.
In the month of September, 1865, two Americans, Ira and William
Davenport, landed in France for the purpose of giving a series
of marvellous performances, under the title of _Spiritualistic
Manifestations_. They came direct from England, where for a period
of two years they had enjoyed an extraordinary run of popularity.
The press of the United Kingdom had taken a lively interest in their
mysterious evolutions, and the fame of the discussions they had excited
had even spread to France.
The arrival of these wonder-workers assumed the importance of a
political event. The _Moniteur du Soir_, the official paper, announced
their appearance in its issues of the 6th and 8th September, and all
the organs of the press vied with each other which should be first to
repeat the interesting intelligence.
Before they reached Paris, the brothers Davenport had made a short stay
at the _Château de Gennevilliers_, whose owner, a fervent believer in
spiritualism, regarded the visit of the illustrious travellers as a
special privilege. It was under this hospitable roof that, by way of
experiment, the first exhibition of the _Spiritualistic Manifestations_
took place. A select party of journalists and other literary men were
invited, and were fully agreed as to the marvellous and inexplicable
character of the phenomena they had witnessed.
The American mediums could not speak a word of French, and were
therefore obliged to avail themselves of the services of an
interpreter, who was at the same time their _impresario_, or, so
to speak, their “Barnum.” They had been recommended to apply to M.
Derosne, a literary man residing at Passy, and to whom we are indebted
for excellent translations of sundry English works. This gentleman
accepted the proffered position, and by way of introducing his
_protégés_, he arranged that they should give, in his own drawing-room,
specimen _séances_ before certain chosen spectators, whose good opinion
might be expected to have a powerful influence on the future success of
the performances which they intended to give in the capital. Immense
posters, in the American style, were placarded about Paris, announcing
in enormous characters that the first _séance_ of the Brothers
Davenport would take place on the 12th September, at the _Salle Herz_.
The performance, which was divided into two parts, consisted of (1)
the “Cabinet” performances, and (2) the “Dark _Séance_.” The price
of admission was fixed at 25 francs for the entire exhibition, or 10
francs for those who witnessed the first part only.
At such prices, what a rich harvest in prospect! Unfortunately, the
bright anticipations of the two brothers as to their future success
in the capital were doomed to disappointment; the friendly reception
which they had met with at their preliminary _séances_ was the only
substantial satisfaction which they were destined to receive from the
nation which is at once the most intelligent and the most sceptical
of the civilized globe. A cloud, quite unexpected by themselves, was
gathering over spiritualism in general, and over their own performances
in particular; and this cloud became more and more threatening as the
day of the first public performance drew near. The friendly criticisms
of some of the papers had been succeeded by a host of energetic
protests against an exhibition which was regarded, not without reason,
as dangerous to the mental health of the public, and particularly to
those weaker intellects which are always ready enough to accept as
gospel the tricks and artifices of the adepts of sham witchcraft.
The following passage, extracted from an article in the paper called
the _Opinion Nationale_ (of the 10th of September, 1865,) will give
some idea of the state of excitement of the Parisian press on the
subject of the American mediums. This article appeared just two days
before the first public performance of the Brothers Davenport.
“These estimable Americans reach our shores preceded by a reputation
of a kind to crush all opposition. Their gospel has appeared before
them. It consists of a volume of three hundred pages, in which Mr.
Nichols, the author of the work in question, assures us that the
Brothers Davenport have from their earliest youth possessed the
faculty of becoming lighter than air; and that on various occasions
they have been wafted to the ceiling, and floated over the heads
of those present. If I venture to cast a doubt on the testimony of
Mr. Nichols to this effect, it is not merely because the assertion
is absurd in itself, but because it is distinctly insulting to the
Brothers Davenport. What, gentlemen, do you allow it to be put forth
that you have flown without wings in a drawing-room, while it is at
the same time stated that you can do so no longer? You had then
once a power which is now exhausted, a virtue which is gone out of
you? Must we conclude that you were undeserving of your ghostly
familiars, that you have no longer over your aërial bearers the same
authority as of yore, that at the age of twenty-five or twenty-three
you are already played out; that you proceed from the greater marvel
to the less, and that in the land of _Nicolet_?[44] Do you come
and show _us_ mere stock marvels, after having in America worked
miracles which a God might envy? Do you take Paris for one of those
twopenny-half-penny country villages whither used-up, unappreciated,
and out-of-date performers come and try to scrape up some scanty
remnant of success?
“Is it not passing strange that in the year 1865,--when the whole
of the human race is pressing with rapid strides in the direction
of progress, when the spirit of positivism is abroad on all sides,
and when every branch of science, freed from the burden of the old
nonsensical beliefs, is stepping resolutely forward to the goal
of truth,--an attempt should be made to revive these supernatural
tomfooleries?
“And if the time is inaptly chosen, the selection of the instruments
is scarcely less absurd. What! here are two favoured mortals who
have subdued the powers of the unseen world; spirits minister to
their behests; they have at their command an army of beings unknown,
indeed, but, in any case, of higher power than man; and by the aid of
these supernatural powers, they actually--do what? Play the fiddle
in a cupboard! Verily, demigods have become singularly unassuming in
these days.
“These gentlemen appear to have travelled from America to France in
order to show us _phenomena_. This is the word they themselves use,
and they take care to add that ‘these phenomena have been attested
by the most celebrated men of science in England and America.’ Their
gospel is entitled, ‘The phenomena of the Davenport Brothers.’
_Phenomena_ be it, then; the word is familiar in the language of
science, and equally so in that of the country fair. The fair of
Saverne does not begin till Sunday next, but the market-place is
crammed with ‘phenomena’ already. There are even _living_ phenomena,
every one ‘attested’ by the Emperor of China and the Sultan of
Morocco, and none the prouder even for that!
“But to return to your ‘phenomena,’ since you really possess
phenomena, and appear desirous of finding a market for them. Are
you not aware that ‘phenomena’ are nothing of themselves? It is
necessary to refer them to some _law_, known or unknown, new or old;
they have no interest for persons of sense, save in so far as they
_prove_ something. What do you profess to prove? What conclusion do
you draw from your trumpery racket in the dark? What new contribution
do you bring to science? Come, deal openly with us; new ideas have
no terrors for us. Indeed, they alarm us so little that it is quite
needless now-a-days to enforce them by miracles. A good sound
_truth_ makes its own way in the world, without any accompaniment of
luminous guitars or phosphorescent fiddles.
(_Signed_)
“EDMOND ABOUT.”
So judicious a criticism, and the stern and uncompromising logic of
so celebrated a writer, of necessity dealt a heavy blow to the credit
of the American mediums, and shook the faith even of the firmest
believers in the occult sciences. The mediumistic powers of the two
brothers, their spiritualistic “evocations” and “manifestations” stood
thenceforth condemned. To any rational man, the Brothers Davenport were
mere performers of juggling tricks. Nevertheless, public curiosity had
for some time past been so keenly excited, that every one wished to
see the men who had been so much talked about; and the miracles, true
or false, which had been the subject of such lively controversy. The
day of the first performance was looked for with impatience, and the
public rushed in crowds to be present at it.
In consequence of my great distance from the metropolis, I could not
manage to be present at this memorable performance; and I am therefore
obliged to borrow my account of it from M. Henri de Pène, reserving to
myself the privilege of afterwards giving an exact description of the
remarkable performances in question, as I myself saw them exhibited
before an orderly and favourably-disposed audience.
* * * * *
The following are the terms in which the witty chronicler of the
_Gazette des Etrangers_ relates, under the title of the “Attack on the
Davenport Brothers at the _Salle Herz_,” the tragi-comical incidents of
the evening of the 14th of September:--
“The first performance of the two Brothers before a paying public
took place, as had been previously announced, on Tuesday evening.
The hall was lighted up, and every seat was filled. But the
performance was lost in a tumult worthy of a meeting of infuriated
shareholders. There was a great deal of noise and a good deal of
spite displayed. The dark _séance_, the more interesting of the two,
and poetically entitled, ‘an hour of darkness,’ and which was only to
be witnessed by a small number of spectators at a high price, never
took place at all.
“The first portion, alone, of the so-called ‘public’ _séance_, to be
seen at comparatively low prices, raised such a tumult, that after
about three-quarters of an hour’s row, the spectators had to be
cleared out of the hall with the police at their backs. It should be
mentioned, by the way, that the money was honestly returned at the
doors; indeed, we are informed that more money was paid out of the
treasury than had actually been paid into it.
“The poor Davenports! I saw them face to face; I spoke to them; I
examined their cabinet, their famous ropes, the tambourine, the
bells, the guitars, in a word, all the elements of that miraculous
symphony which is said to be their strong point. I was called by the
universal suffrage of the audience to the perilous honour of going
upon the platform to inspect the operations,--to tie, to untie, and
do all that might concern my office of inspector.
“Can I venture to say that there was a cabal against the Brothers
even before the commencement of the performance? It may have been
so, but I should hesitate to assert it as a fact. The worst enemies
of the Davenports, at the performance in question, were themselves.
Do not let me be misunderstood: I regard them as very clever
fellows, inasmuch as, in the presence of other credible witnesses
and myself, they, more than once, by the aid of some agency, whether
of this world or the other, did some really marvellous things.
Their reputation and their personal merits as conjurors, mediums,
or wizards, whichever you may please to call them, remain still
unaffected in my eyes. But they have not the most elementary notion
of the temper of a Parisian audience; and to judge from the style in
which the _mise en scène_ of their miracles (!) was arranged, one
would think that they had never come out of their cupboard.
“It was at once obvious that they had to deal with a mistrustful
and keenly watchful audience, who should have been attacked with
energy, with a light steady hand, as when a skilful rider ‘lifts’
a horse which hesitates at a leap. If the rider hesitates as well
as the horse, he is lost. The performance was opened by a speech
from an interpreter, whose intention was excellent, and whose wish
to conciliate was evident, but who was also excessively nervous.
What he said was, in effect, as follows: ‘Gentlemen, the Brothers
Davenport, who have for ten years past enjoyed an extraordinary
reputation in America and in England, have not the advantage of being
able to speak your language. I am commissioned, therefore, on their
behalf to assure you that they do not desire, in any way, to induce
the public to believe that they have dealings with spirits. They
introduce themselves to you neither as wizards nor as conjurors; they
propose simply to enable you to witness phenomena, of the causes of
which they themselves are ignorant, leaving you alone to judge of the
effects which will be produced.’
“Such a platform seemed fair enough, and was well received.
Unfortunately, the interpreter, presuming too far on the friendly
encouragement which was vouchsafed to him, continued to speak, and
drifted into long and tedious explanations, which at last exhausted
the patience of the audience. The Davenports were loudly called for.
They came forward, and the tumult ceased.
“At last, then, the performance is about to commence. Not so fast!
The performers are actually on the stage, the three doors of the
cabinet stand wide open to receive them, but their ignorance of the
French language, their desire--real or assumed--for substantial
tests, the eagerness with which they unresistingly accept the
most minute examination, the obstinacy with which they compel the
representative of the general incredulity (alas! _I_ was that unhappy
person) to poke his nose everywhere,--all these produce delays, and
more delays. It would be almost better to be cheated, if only one was
cheated a little quicker. The spectators begin to groan, to sing, to
hiss, to laugh aloud, to yell, and finally to lose their temper.
“During this critical period we discharge the duties with which we
have been entrusted. We verify, we measure, we handle everything; and
finally, after examining the ropes which are provided for our use, we
tie, as best we may, the two Brothers to the seats of their cabinet.
The audience, in answer to an inquiry from the interpreter, reply
by acclamation that they are satisfied with our exertions. But a
gentleman with fair hair, whom I have since heard to be an engineer,
rises, and says, ‘The gentlemen are honestly tied up, but the method
of tying is weak; I will tie them myself in such a manner that they
cannot possibly get loose.’ He ties them accordingly, and returns
to his seat with a triumphant air. The doors of the cabinet close
upon the two Brothers, who, after a few minutes’ interval, appear,
released from their bonds. The audience applaud. The Davenports had
therefore succeeded in what I will call, provisionally, their ‘rope
trick,’ when the fair-haired gentleman, burning to avenge his defeat,
leaps impetuously on the platform, and shouts, ‘They are making fools
of us; it is a shameful hoax: the planks on which these gentlemen
are seated are hinged, and so enable them to get loose.’ So saying
he deals a vigorous blow on the plank in question, which breaks with
a loud noise, and, as happens when anyone pulls away the chair on
which one is seated, one of the Brothers Davenport naturally comes to
the ground. Everyone is on his feet in a moment, the storm spreads
throughout the assembly; everyone leaves his seat and goes to examine
for himself. Everybody is on the platform at once. People talk to
total strangers, just as happens in a political disturbance. M. Herz
begins to tremble for the safety of his hall.
“At this point the constables make a sharp and energetic entry,
and the performance comes to an end by the peremptory order of the
commissary of police.
“Even at the late hour at which I write these lines (Tuesday,
midnight) the Boulevards are still in a high state of excitement, and
nothing is spoken of but the Davenports. They will be quoted as ‘gone
down’ on the Stock Exchange to-morrow. The opinion which appears to
me to be most general is that they have been condemned with a sort of
coarse ferocity and without a fair trial. In truth, the very worst
of all hateful things, to my own mind, is _violence_. It disgraces
the fairest cause, and would prejudice us even against law and order
themselves, were we to find it enrolled under the same flag. I am
ready to suppose that the Davenports are clumsy impostors; but it
is none the less true that, in their Waterloo at _Salle Herz_, the
public has treated them with brutality, and therefore, in my eyes,
the public has placed itself in the wrong, even though it may be
right in the opinion it has formed.”
If they formed their opinion on the reception they had just met with,
the Brothers Davenport must have had a queer impression of French
hospitality. Many persons, in their place, would have been completely
disheartened at such a reception, and would have then and there
abandoned their enterprise. But they were determined to have a return
match with their impulsive antagonist, whom they regarded, with some
reason, as the principal cause of their unfortunate misadventure. The
very next day, they invited several of the leaders of the press to come
and examine their cabinet, which was then in course of repair. They
showed readily enough that the mechanical arrangements referred to by
their antagonist only existed in his own imagination, and that the
hinges and movable portions of the piece of furniture in question had
no other object save that of folding-up for convenience of packing.
The triumph of the fiery engineer was therefore of short duration. He
might have read in several papers (the _Epoque_, the _Temps_, and the
_Patrie_) of the very same day, a special article as follows:--
“M. D----, who was persuaded that he had discovered the trick, and
who had induced us, up to last evening, to share his conviction, was
clearly mistaken.
“The movable wooden cross-piece is not, in any sense, the _deus ex
machinâ_ of the apparatus. In fact, this cross-piece is now attached
to the upright portion of the cabinet by very substantial screws. The
whole affair is made of very slight boards, in whose thickness it
would be absolutely impossible to insert any mechanism, even of the
smallest dimensions. Neither above, below, or on either side, have
we discovered anything in the slightest degree suspicious. In vain
have we examined everything, sounded walls, taken up carpets, turned
chairs upside down; we are constrained to admit that if there is any
mechanism employed, it is utterly and absolutely invisible.”
Emboldened by this declaration, the Davenports inserted in all the
newspapers a letter in which, after protesting against the violence
to which they had been subjected, they announced their intention to
continue their performances. The following is an extract therefrom:--
“M. D----, the engineer who, after having taken the platform by
assault, cried out, ‘We are the dupes of a shameful hoax,’--in order
to justify his exclamation, forcibly tore away an innocent stretcher,
which supported the seat on which one of us was seated in bonds. The
stretcher in question is of solid oak, contains no spring or other
mechanical device; and was only moved from its place by being broken
to pieces. We challenge M. D---- to come forward and himself verify
the truth of our statement, and like an honourable man, to admit that
he was mistaken.
“Our cabinet may be examined by any one who pleases; it contains
no appliance of any kind which can facilitate the phenomena which
take place in it. Further, if any one chooses to supply us with a
cabinet of the same form and dimensions as our own, constructed
wholly without our intervention, he can prove for himself that the
_séance_ of September 12 was but a series of premeditatedly hostile
demonstrations. We should at once have bowed to a judgment delivered
in a calm and equitable spirit; but we protest, with all our strength
and with just indignation, against the abuse and the brutality of
which, for some time past, we have been the victims; and we appeal
in all honesty from the judgment of an excited and partial mob to
the deliberate and fair examination of disinterested persons; nay,
even persons who start with a prejudice against us. With this view,
we shall continue to give our _séances_ in the _Salle Herz_, not
entertaining for a moment any doubt as to the ultimate result of our
appearance in public.”
The Davenport Brothers gave, in fact, a series of _séances_, which they
had the good sense to exhibit in a room of smaller dimensions than the
concert hall, and consequently better adapted for an exhibition of this
kind. These performances passed off with comparative quietness. Every
now and then there was a slight skirmish, or a passage of words, but
they never degenerated into downright disorder. More frequently they
assumed a comic character, leaving the laughers sometimes on the one
side, sometimes on the other.
I myself was present on more than one occasion at these performances,
and I derived therefrom the same amusement as I should have done in
witnessing well-executed conjuring tricks; for I knew exactly how much
to believe as to the nature of the “spiritualistic” manifestations of
the two Brothers, and I often enjoyed a laugh at the calm assurance
with which they played the part of passive instruments of the
spirits of another world. To put it plainly, the Davenports were
simply clever conjurors, who, in order to give greater prestige
to their performances, thought fit to ascribe the effects of mere
sleight-of-hand to the supernatural intervention of spirits. From
a purely business point of view they were unquestionably wise,
inasmuch as, up to the time of their misadventure at the _Salle Herz_,
their receipts had been enormous. It was not, in truth, either rope
tricks or dancing guitars that the public went to see: they attended
“spiritualistic manifestations” in order to witness supernatural and
inexplicable phenomena, and this alone induced them to pay so high an
amount as twenty-five francs for admission. All said and done, the
performances of the American Brothers were extremely interesting; and
the _mise en scène_ was calculated to make a great impression. In order
to give the reader some idea of the performance, I will describe it
in detail; noting, at the same time, the impression which, to my own
knowledge, it produced on the spectators. After having duly described
these very surprising effects, I propose, in the next place, to give
full explanations of the manner in which they were produced.
THE PERFORMANCE OF THE BROTHERS DAVENPORT.
PART I.--_The Cabinet._--We are in one of the smaller rooms belonging
to the _Salle Herz_, in the _Rue de la Victoire_, a room which may
accommodate some sixty persons. The apartment is divided by a railing
of a little more than a yard high into two equal portions. On the one
side of this division are the seats allotted to the spectators, and on
the other the cabinet which is intended to be used for the performance.
This piece of furniture, which is of the slightest possible
construction, rests on trestles, and is of such a size as just to
contain three persons, seated or standing. To the sides of the cabinet,
on the inside, are hung divers musical instruments, such as violin,
guitar, trumpet, tambourine, and bell. Three doors, to be closed as
occasion may require, serve to screen the mediums from the public view.
Before the commencement of the performance, several of the spectators
are invited to come within the railed-off portion of the room, and
to place themselves in a circle round the cabinet, so as to bar all
communication from without.
The first point is the binding of the two Americans. All present agree
in selecting, for the performance of this delicate task, a veteran
naval officer, who is expert in knots of every description, and in
whose skill every one appears to have the utmost possible confidence.
The ropes which are intended to be used are first tendered for
examination. We search the two young men as if we were representatives
of the police force; and having taken every possible precaution against
any trick or artifice, we turn our attention to the actual tying.
The Americans step into the cabinet, and place themselves on the seats
to which they are to be tied. Our naval representative takes a cord,
marks it to make sure that there is no substitution; he takes note of
its precise length; and then, by means of regular “sailor’s knots,”
hitherto reputed invincible, he ties up, first one brother, then the
other. He pinions their arms to their sides, ties their legs firmly
together; in fact, he so ties and lashes them to their seats and to the
cross rails, that every one regards the defeat of the Americans as a
foregone conclusion; they must, beyond a doubt, be driven to cry for
quarter.
We have stated that the cabinet has three doors. In the middle is cut,
at about the height of a man’s head, a lozenge-shaped aperture. The
side-doors are first closed, simultaneously, and lastly the centre
door, but, _mirabile dictu_, scarcely has this last been closed,
than we see appear, at the opening above mentioned, the arms of the
right-hand prisoner, still rosy with the friction of the famous
“sailor’s knot.” The surprise, the astonishment, nay, the stupefaction
of the spectators are beyond description: they hesitate to believe the
testimony of their own eyes; they furtively glance around, each seeking
to confirm his own impressions by those of his neighbour, but all are
in the same condition of bewilderment, and equally unable to afford the
slightest guidance. Finally, they give up the riddle as hopeless, and
render to the performers a well-earned tribute of applause.
A little later, and the three doors are opened. We see the two
brothers, with smiling countenances, step down from the cabinet freed
from their bonds, which they now carry in their hands. More than
ten minutes had been occupied in tying them up; a single minute had
sufficed for their release.
This first feat concluded, the young men again step into the cabinet,
and take their seats. The cords are laid in a heap at their feet, and
the doors are closed. Two minutes later, the doors are opened, and we
find the mediums again in bondage. They have tied themselves up in
the darkness, and their hands are found firmly secured behind their
backs. The tying is examined, and is declared to be as secure as on the
first occasion. It should here be repeated that, during the whole of
the _séance_, sundry spectators keep constant watch on all sides of the
cabinet; that this latter is raised on trestles; and that the hall is
kept sufficiently light to enable any one to see without difficulty.
Now, however, still more astonishing phenomena are about to take
place. The doors are put to with the utmost possible quickness, but
scarcely is the last one closed than a _concerto_ of the most eccentric
character becomes audible; the violin strikes up under the touch of a
vigorously handled bow, the guitar is thrummed, the tambourine marks
time, the bell rings, the horn is vigorously blown, the whole forming
a discord of the most awful description. Occasionally a variety of
other noises, knocks, and heavy blows is added to the infernal concert.
Suddenly, there is a dead silence, and an arm, bare to the shoulder,
is seen to pass through the hole in the door, ringing the bell with
frantic energy.
At the very moment when the noise is most deafening, if the doors of
the cabinet are suddenly opened, the musical instruments are seen
in the place they originally occupied, and the two Brothers are
motionless on their seats, and tied up as before. As soon as the doors
are closed, the hullabaloo begins again; but each time that the doors
are opened, the mediums are found, calm, motionless, and still firmly
tied. I have forgotten to mention that at each of the “spiritualistic
manifestations” the horn and the bell are flung through the opening in
the door, and fall at the feet of the spectators.
By way of check upon these tricksy sprites, it is requested that some
one of the company, to be selected by the audience, will take a seat
in the cabinet between the two Brothers. A representative is selected
accordingly; he places himself on the seat in the centre, and in order
to ensure his giving no assistance to the mediums, one of his hands
is tied to the shoulder of one of the Brothers, and his other hand
upon the knee of the other brother. This arrangement further ensures
that there can be no movement on the part of the mediums without the
knowledge of the person thus chosen. As soon as the doors are closed,
however, the witches’ sabbath is again heard in the cabinet, the
various musical instruments appearing to vie with each other, which
shall make the most noise. An instant, and the hubbub ceases; the doors
are opened, and the unlucky visitor is seen with his head wrapped in
his own pocket-handkerchief, with the tambourine by way of head-dress,
while his cravat is neatly tied round the neck of his right-hand
neighbour, and his spectacles are on the nose of his left-hand
neighbour, and his watch, even, is found to have travelled from one
pocket to another. The representative of the public is freed from his
encumbrances, and is instantly surrounded and cross-questioned. He
declares that all he felt was a slight tickling of the nose, when,
at the self-same moment, he was covered with his pocket-handkerchief
and robbed of his spectacles, and can give no other explanation.
Meanwhile, the wrists of the mediums are still found firmly tied behind
their backs. Flour is produced, and a little is put, with a spoon,
into each hand of the mediums. No sooner is the door closed than the
coat of one of the prisoners is passed through the aperture. The doors
are instantly opened, the knots are examined, the doors again closed,
and scarcely two minutes elapse before the two Brothers step out of
the cabinet entirely freed from their bonds; they come forward to the
spectators, and show that their hands are still full of the flour which
had been placed therein. It should be stated that the young men are
dressed in black, and that not the slightest trace of flour is to be
seen on their garments.
* * * * *
PART II.--_The Dark Séance._--The scenic arrangements of this
exhibition are of the simplest possible character. The cabinet and its
trestles are removed and put on one side, and are replaced by a small
table, on which are placed two guitars and a tambourine, which we have
already seen employed in the first part of the performance.
These preparations, which are very deliberately made, have given the
two Brothers time to take a little rest in an adjoining room. They
speedily return, and seat themselves on two slightly made chairs, one
on each side of the table. Each places at his feet a coil of rope.
At their request, made through their interpreter, some fourteen or
fifteen members of the audience come and take seats near the Americans,
and, joining hands, form an impenetrable circle round them. Two
gas-jets, one on each side of the enclosed portion of the hall, are
alone lighted. A person is posted beside each of these burners, to turn
the light up or down as may be required.
At a signal given by one of the two Brothers, the room is placed in
complete darkness for a space of about two minutes. A solemn silence
prevails throughout the assembly; so much are all present impressed
by the weird singularity of the scene. The privileged spectators who
form the protective circle are so close to the mediums, that the least
movement on the part of the latter, the slightest rustle of their
garments, would be distinctly audible. Each lends an attentive ear, and
seeks to catch the slightest sound of a suspicious character; but, in
the very midst of this strained attention, the light is suddenly turned
up, and the two Americans are seen securely tied; their legs, arms,
and bodies are alike covered with a network of cords binding them to
the chairs on which they are seated; their wrists are pinioned behind
their backs, and lashed to the “stretchers” of the chairs. The chairs
are likewise firmly tied to the table. Spectators gather round, they
examine the various knots, and are constrained to admit that they are
honestly tied.
Again we are placed in darkness, and instantly the musical instruments
placed on the table are heard in mysterious harmony. Suddenly, the gas
is turned up, and, simultaneously with the appearance of the light, the
concert ceases. The instruments show no sign of having moved from their
places, and the mediums are tied up as before.
The spectators begin to experience an indescribable sensation of
“all-over-ishness.” There is very little applause: a performance of
this kind is not calculated to produce a feeling of exaltation. On
the contrary, it rather tends to make one feel a kind of nervous
depression. True believers regard the phenomena in question as the
genuine work of spirits; and even the incredulous and the sceptical are
forced to admit that these pretended supernatural manifestations are,
to say the least, remarkably well executed. As yet, moreover, we have
by no means arrived at the most remarkable phenomena of this mysterious
performance.
In order to afford the company absolute certainty that the ligatures
are not unfastened, one of the spectators who happens to be nearest is
asked to apply some melted sealing-wax to the knots which bind the
wrists, and to impress a seal thereon. Meanwhile, the guitars and the
tambourine are smeared with a phosphorescent liquid which renders them
distinguishable in the dark.
The moment that the room is again placed in darkness, the guitars and
the tambourine begin to move, and leave the places they occupy, at
the same time producing the most lugubrious sounds. They are seen to
rise in the air, and to move about in luminous curves; then, to take
an erratic course, and wander about the hall, flitting just over the
heads of the spectators. One guitar just ruffles this gentleman’s
hair, another brushes against that gentleman’s coat; and yet, though
frequently moving in an abrupt and jerky manner, neither of the
instruments comes in actual contact with either the spectators or the
ceiling; at most, as they pass close to your face, you feel a sudden
draught, a puff of wind which causes you instinctively to draw your
head back, for fear of receiving a blow. The situation is rather
painful than pleasant. One experiences a sort of indefinable feeling of
_dread_, which for the time being paralyses the reflective faculties.
In the middle of these eccentric evolutions the lights are turned up,
and the instruments are found resting on the laps of the spectators.
The seals on the knots are examined, and are found to be unbroken.
A further precaution is now taken to guarantee the spectators against
any trickery, if they still entertain a doubt on the subject. A sheet
of paper is placed under the feet of each of the mediums, and the
outline of his boots is traced with a pencil thereon. If by some
mysterious means they manage to get free from their bonds, and to
leave their seats, this sheet of paper will betray them. If it has
shifted but a quarter of an inch, trickery stands confessed. The public
appear to put complete faith in this test. In addition, a spectator is
requested to take off his coat or overcoat, and to lay it across his
knees.
These arrangements being completed, the gas is extinguished, and
during some few minutes of darkness, the guitars again strike up their
unearthly music, and recommence their eccentric movements. But, even
while these musical will-o’-the-wisps are still hovering in space, one
spectator finds himself suddenly deprived of his hat, which is wafted
several yards away; another has his hair dishevelled by mysterious
fingers; a third feels his hand shaken by an invisible hand; the coat,
above referred to, is whisked away from its owner, while another
spectator finds on his lap some indistinguishable garment-like object.
When the gas is re-lighted, the two Brothers are seen perfectly
composed, still bound, and apparently quite innocent of any concern
with what has just taken place. A rush is made to examine the seals,
they are found intact; the sheet of paper is inspected, the sole has
not shifted by a hair’s-breadth from the outline traced around it. But
the fact which puts a climax to the general astonishment is, that one
of the Brothers, though still tied up and the knots sealed, is wearing
the spectator’s missing coat, while the other has a hat on his head and
a pair of spectacles on his nose. These three articles belong to three
different spectators. The medium’s own coat is found in the hall on the
lap of one of the spectators.
At this stage of the proceedings, the astonishment, indeed, one might
say the stupefaction, the bewilderment of the audience reaches its
utmost limit; spiritualistic manifestation or imposture, supernatural
phenomenon or mere conjuring tricks, the performance is perfect of its
kind. Putting aside for the moment reflection or investigation, we
simply make up our minds to pay the performers a well-earned tribute of
applause.
EXPLANATION OF THE ARTIFICES WHEREBY THE PRETENDED
SPIRITUALISTIC MANIFESTATIONS AND THE
“INEXPLICABLE” PHENOMENA OF THE BROTHERS
DAVENPORT ARE PRODUCED.
Ordinary conjurors, as a rule, use special apparatus to facilitate the
execution of their marvels. The Davenports have, strictly speaking,
nothing but their “ropes.” The cabinet lends no assistance whatever in
the actual execution of the tricks. An ordinary screen and a couple
of chairs might, on emergency, be used in its stead. It serves, in
truth, simply to cover the manipulations of the mediums. The musical
instruments may be considered as mere accessories.
The ropes used are of a cotton fibre; their make is the same as that of
the cords which are used to draw curtains backwards and forwards, and
they present therefore smooth surfaces, adapted to slip easily one upon
another. In length they are about ten feet each.
When, at the outset of the performance, a certain number of spectators
are invited to step upon the platform, and to surround the cabinet,
they are requested to join hands, under the pretext of establishing
a magnetic circle round the mediums. In reality, the object is to
preclude the possibility of individual attempts to solve the mystery.
For the same reason, the spectators in the front row are required to
join hands in like manner.
The two Brothers place themselves on the seats of the cabinet, and each
hands three ropes to the person selected to secure him to his seat. At
first sight it may be imagined that this is a very easy matter, but in
truth it is quite the reverse. To begin with, upon what system will
you proceed, and where will you commence? You have in all probability
never before had occasion to bind a prisoner. Sometimes the person
appointed is of an easy-going disposition; he thinks less of creating
difficulties for his victim than of getting his task well over: he
ties his man up “anyhow,” so to speak. In such case everything is in
favour of the success of the trick. But very often, on the other hand,
the medium has to do with a keen and vigorous antagonist, who takes
a serious view of the duty he has undertaken, and considers his own
reputation for smartness at stake. His first proceeding is to place
the hands of the patient behind his back and to fasten them there
securely. He next brings the cord to the front, thence back again;
passes it under the arms, and finishes off with a knot which he regards
as invincible. With the two remaining cords he surrounds the feet, the
thighs, and arms of the medium, and lashes these parts also firmly to
the seats of the cabinet. Vain precaution! Every knot, every form of
ligature is necessarily capable of being again untied.
While he is being tied up, the medium places himself in any position
which may be required of him; but with his keen Yankee eye, he sees
at once the kind of person with whom he has to do. The easy-going
representative he does not trouble himself about; he lets such a
person do just as he pleases. But with the other kind of delegate
he is keenly on the watch, and strives silently to neutralize his
hostile intentions. If he finds himself being too tightly tied, he
utters a faint cry of pain, which, however, he makes believe at once
to repress. This little piece of acting nearly always succeeds; the
rest of the ligatures are almost invariably tied with a certain amount
of forbearance. Or again, the medium, without appearing to do so,
expands various portions of his frame, either by slightly raising his
shoulders, holding the arms away from the body, or lastly, by opposing
a secret resistance in the direction in which the pressure is the
strongest.
[Illustration: Fig. 24.]
When the tying-up is complete, the first endeavour of the medium is, by
dint of a particular movement which it is impossible to describe, to
work up towards the shoulders the cords which are round the forearms,
so as to give these last a little freedom. Next comes a process of
pulling and straining; the wrists drawn vigorously apart operate as
levers straining against the loops through which they pass, and by
persistent pulling, they stretch such parts of the cord as may be
susceptible of such extension. A quarter of an inch, or little more,
of play, will suffice for the deliverance of one or the other hand.
It should be stated, that by dint of special practice on the part of
our mediums, the thumb is made to lie flat in the hand, when the whole
assumes a cylindrical form of scarcely greater diameter than the wrist.
The first to get free of the four hands is passed through the opening,
and shows itself to the spectators, while the three others still labour
for the common deliverance. The hands once free, the remaining cords
and the knots are then untied; the teeth rendering valuable service in
this particular.
[Illustration: Fig. 25.]
Ira Davenport (who in Fig. 24 is represented as being to the right
hand of the spectator) is cleverer and more active than his brother,
and is almost invariably the first to release himself. When this is
so, he helps William. In any case, the first to get free assists the
other.[45]
When the mediums bind themselves in their cabinet, the mode of tying
which they employ enables them to free themselves and again secure
themselves in an extremely small space of time. Fig. 25 will give some
idea of the arrangement of the cords.
To produce such arrangement they proceed as follows: They take one of
the cords by the middle, and form at that point a bow or double loop,
as represented in Fig. 26.[46]
The reader will perceive that this is in fact a double slip-knot, the
loops of which may be diminished or increased in size, according as the
ends A and B are drawn tight or released.
[Illustration: Fig. 26.]
Leaving the two loops open as above, the performers pass through two
holes, bored purposely in the seat, the two ends of the cord, which is
long enough to be tied round their feet, and attached to the cross-bar
in front. With the two other cords, they bind their thighs to the
side rails, and sometimes also the arms close to the body. This done,
they pass their hands through the loops, which they then draw tight
by extending their legs slightly forward. Upon this “dodge” rests the
whole pretended intervention of the spirits and the racket in which
they indulge. In point of fact, no sooner are the doors of the cabinet
closed than the two Brothers draw back their legs a little and slacken
the knot, thus enabling themselves to draw out their hands and to
become free. The violin, the guitars, the tambourine, and the bell are
almost instantaneously set in motion, making a row of the most hideous
description, which is still further enhanced by occasional kicks and
thumps on the sides of the cabinet itself. After a short interval the
instruments are restored to their original positions, the wrists are
replaced in their ligatures, the doors are flung open, and all appear
in due order as at first.
A representative selected by the audience is requested, as already
described, to step upon the platform; he takes his place in the
cabinet upon the seat in the middle. One of his hands is tied to Ira’s
shoulder, and the other to William’s knee. But is it not obvious that
this precaution, which is ostensibly taken _against_ the two Brothers,
is really in their favour? They have no need, in truth, to stir either
knee or shoulder in order to carry out their mischievous pranks; and
the stranger, having his hands tied, has no control whatever over their
proceedings. He becomes a mere dummy; and under such circumstances,
there is not the least difficulty in removing his spectacles (if he
wears any), his necktie, or his pocket-handkerchief, and in crowning
him with the tambourine.
Placing flour in the hands of the two Brothers does not at all
interfere with their drawing them out of the slip-knot. The hands once
free, they pour the flour into a pocket made on purpose in their coats,
wipe their hands on the inside of the pocket, then pass them one after
another through the opening in the door, to show that they are free,
and finally indulge, as before, in their noisy _concerto_; after which,
one of the Brothers takes from a side-pocket a little paper bag filled
with flour, pours some into the hands of his companion and into one of
his own, replaces the empty bag in its hiding-place, and then gives
his other hand its due proportion of flour. The doors are opened, and
the two Brothers, freed from their cords, come forward to show the
public that their hands are still full of flour.
* * * * *
This little “flour test” terminated on one occasion in a manner which
was rather embarrassing to the mediums, though highly diverting to the
spectators. The person deputed to place the flour in the mediums’ hands
hit on the cute idea of using _snuff_ instead. The mediums saw nothing
of the change, for at the moment in question their hands are held
behind their backs. The two Brothers reappeared with flour in their
hands. The trick which had been played them was then explained, and
there was a hearty laugh all round, except, indeed, on the part of the
discomfited tricksters.[47]
The explanation of the second portion, or _Dark Séance_, will be
readily understood, inasmuch as the tricks still mainly rest on the
famous “slip-knot” of which we have already spoken. The two Brothers
are seated on either side of a table, on which are laid the guitars and
tambourines; they have at their feet a heap of cords; around them is
formed the magnetic circle of spectators, each holding the hand of his
neighbour. The lights are turned down, and forthwith the two Brothers
lash themselves to their chairs after the manner above described, and
in the position depicted in Fig. 25. The only difference lies in the
form of the seats used. Just as in the case of the cabinet, they can at
pleasure fasten or unfasten themselves, and play the instruments which
are on the table.
But, it may be asked, how do they manage when the knot which attaches
them is sealed? The reader will note on inspection of Fig. 26, that
it is quite possible to put wax on the middle of the knot, and even
to seal the two portions of the cord at this point firmly together,
without the movement of the ends A or B, or that of the loops
themselves being at all interfered with. When the wrists are placed in
the loops, this portion of the knot is always uppermost. And, further,
the interpreter takes good care to indicate the precise point at which
the seal is to be applied, adding a request that the investigator will
be careful not to allow the melted wax to touch the wrists. This remark
is sure to induce an amount of reserve which is very favourable to the
success of the trick. Finally, it should be remarked, that the cord
being as thick as the little finger, the impression of the seal cannot
possibly extend beyond the point of junction of the two fixed portions.
We have, however, still sundry marvels to explain, viz., the fantastic
evolutions of the guitars, the sheet of paper under the feet, the coat
taken off and replaced, &c.
The guitars and the tambourine are smeared with a phosphorescent
liquid whose faint glimmer does not shine brightly enough to reveal
the outline of surrounding objects. The company are therefore in
total darkness. Ira frees himself from his bonds, and, by the aid of
a faculty which he has acquired of seeing in the dark,[48] he seizes
one of the luminous guitars by the neck, steps forward with it as
close as possible to the circle of spectators, and waves it over their
heads, at the same time twanging the strings with the third and fourth
fingers. The absence of any other object wherewith to compare prevents
the spectator forming any decided judgment as to the _distance_ of this
vaguely luminous body; indeed, I have myself known a guitar which was
almost touching my head appear to be several yards away. Meanwhile, the
other medium, having also sufficiently freed himself from his bonds,
holds up the other phosphorescent guitar and tambourine as high as he
can, and with these two instruments makes as much noise and as much
movement as possible.
The trick of the outline of the feet marked on the sheet of paper is
very ingenious. Ira, after the above measure of precaution has been
duly taken, quits his position on the sheet of paper in order to
approach the spectators, but when he returns to his seat, takes care
to _turn over_ the sheet of paper before placing his feet upon it; and
then, by means of a pencil, which he takes from one of his pockets, he
traces _another_ outline, which is taken to be the same which had been
made by the public.
The “coat” trick is worked as follows:--Ira, freed from his bonds,
takes off his coat, throws it into the middle of the hall, and catching
up one which he has had placed on the lap of a spectator in the front
row, puts it on instead, then replaces himself in his ligatures, and
the trick is done.[49]
FOOTNOTES:
[44] The motto of the _Théâtre Nicolet_ was “_De plus fort en plus
fort_”--“From one marvel to a greater.”--ED.
[45] Hence the preference of rope-tying mediums for working in couples.
Were they always to perform single-handed, the failure of a medium to
get free would be a matter of much more frequent occurrence than at
present; but the chances, which in any case are considerably against
the medium being tied so securely that he cannot escape, are almost
infinite against _two_ mediums being so tied by different persons on
the same occasion. If one gets free, it is obviously merely a question
of time to release the other, however securely tied.--ED.
[46] To produce this knot, all that is necessary is to wind the cord
once round the fingers, and through the ring thus formed to draw a
small portion of the cord on each side, in opposite directions.--ED.
[47] The _naïveté_ of the “flour test” is about on a par with that
of the “water test” as applied to the “direct spirit voices.” The
medium fills his mouth with water; the lights are turned down, and
ghostly voices are heard. The lights being turned up again, the medium
shows that his mouth is still full of water; _ergo_, he could not
possibly have produced the uncanny sounds which have just been heard.
The intellect of the average spiritualist seems to be incapable of
conceiving that the medium may have swallowed the original water under
cover of the darkness, and refilled his mouth from a pocket flask.--ED.
[48] This (medically known as _nyctalopia_) is a faculty which may be
cultivated or developed by circumstances: witness the instances of
prisoners confined for a long period in dark dungeons, who have thereby
acquired this peculiar sense.--ED.
[49] Readers who chance to have had the opportunity of witnessing the
Davenports’ performances will be impressed by the fairness and accuracy
of Robert-Houdin’s description of the effects produced, not less than
by the extreme simplicity of the mystery when explained. We may add
that there is no possibility of question as to the correctness of the
explanation given, which fully accords with the conclusions formed
by all skilled observers of the Davenport “phenomena.” It must be
conceded, in favour of the Brothers, that their performance of their
difficult task was perfect of its kind, and far ahead of the majority
of their imitators. One of their most successful rivals on their own
ground, _i.e._, working wholly without mechanical aids, is Dexter, “the
Man of Many Mysteries.” This gentleman equals the Brothers themselves
in the quickness of his manipulations, while in one particular he may
even claim to have surpassed them, viz., that his manifestations,
including the startling “coat” feat, are produced without apparent
disturbance of the _original knots tied by the audience_. The
Davenports, it will be remembered, only produced their most startling
effects after they had freed themselves from the original ligatures,
and _tied themselves_ in their own fashion, thereby gaining the benefit
of the slip-knot described at page 205. Working in a somewhat different
direction, the ingenuity of Messrs. Maskelyne and Cooke and others,
by the introduction of mechanical aids, has developed the rope-tying
and other spiritualistic “business” to an extent never dreamt of by
their original promoters. Handcuffs, sacks, and locked and corded
boxes have been added to the original appliances of bondage, and yet
the captive is free to “manifest” in a variety of eccentric ways. We
are indebted to Mr. Bland, of Oxford Street, for the opportunity of
examining one of the latest appliances in this direction: a substantial
brass collar, by means of which, after the closest and most careful
scrutiny, the performer is secured to an equally substantial staple. It
would seem that nothing short of a skilled locksmith could effect his
release; but no sooner are the lights lowered than the captive is free,
again instantly securing himself after completing his “manifestation”
for the time being. The mechanism of this collar, which we must own
completely baffled our most careful scrutiny, is a marvel of ingenious
simplicity. In examining this cleverly constructed piece of apparatus,
we could not avoid the reflection that large numbers of very honest
people, (even including fellows of learned societies, and others who
ought by profession and practice to know better) constantly accept, as
conclusive, so-called “tests” offering infinitely less assurance than
this deceptive collar; and we are led to suggest, as an almost obvious
moral, that, human intelligence being fallible, wherever there is a
sufficient motive for deception, means will always be found to deceive.
It would scarcely be possible, within the limits of a footnote, even
to enumerate the thousand-and-one dodges of the professed medium. We
will, however, give one or two examples, selecting our illustrations
from such of the so-called “phenomena” as appear more particularly to
stagger unbelievers.
A party of inquirers engage a medium to come to the house of one of
their number. He comes, we will suppose, alone (this, by the way, no
medium will ever do if he can possibly help it).
[Illustration: Fig. 27.]
The other members of the party are all known to each other, and above
suspicion. All sit round the table, joining hands in the usual manner
(_i.e._, the hands laid flat on the table, the little fingers of each
person crossing those of his neighbours on either side). The medium is
placed, say, between Mr. A. and Mr. B. (_see_ Fig. 27), both thorough
sceptics, and both fully determined that he shall not stir a finger
without their knowledge. And yet, the gas being extinguished, sundry
mysterious things happen, which, the members of the party being _ex
hypothesi_ innocent of complicity in the matter, can only be the work
either of the medium or some unknown agency. Mr. A. and Mr. B. are both
absolutely certain that the medium’s little fingers have rested beneath
their own during the whole performance; and therefore the “supernatural
agency” solution is only too frequently accepted.
Now for the true explanation. After the party have sat long enough
in darkness (possibly singing “Hand in hand with angels,” or some
similarly inspiring strain) to begin to feel chilly and uncomfortable,
the medium is seized with convulsive starts and twitchings, which
are understood to be the premonitory symptoms of the approaching
“influence.” Little by little, in the course of these convulsive
spasms, he brings his hands gradually nearer and nearer, till they are
at last quite close together, those of Mr. A and Mr. B. conscientiously
accompanying them. At last, in the course of a more than ordinarily
violent spasm, the right hand is drawn away with a jerk. The hand of
Mr. A. (the guardian on the right) makes an instant effort to regain
its position over the emancipated little finger, and apparently
succeeds, really coming down on the outstretched left _thumb_ of
the medium, which is only a couple of inches distant. The condition
of things is now altered as shown in Fig. 28. Mr. A. and Mr. B. are
both carefully mounting guard over the _left hand_ of the medium,
while the right is free to pull hair, tweak noses, ring bells, rattle
tambourines, or otherwise “manifest” as maybe desired. Still the
convulsive twitching on the part of the medium continues. Presently the
left hand also is jerked away. Mr. A. and Mr. B. each make a “grab”
to regain it, and each meeting the other’s hand, settle down, in the
calm assurance that they still command the movements of the medium,
though in reality they are each carefully guarding the fingers of
the other, while the medium is free to fetch chimney ornaments from
the mantle-piece and place them on the table, personate “John King”
or “Peter,” ring bells, strum guitars, or execute any other piece
of tomfoolery which he may deem most adapted to the gullibility of
his audience (_see_ Fig. 29). If it is desired to jingle tambourines
against the ceiling, or to execute any other manifestation requiring
special length of reach, the performer calls to his aid a light, handy
instrument made after the manner of the “telescope” toastingfork. This
may be drawn out for use to a length of several feet, but when closed
may be concealed in the pocket without difficulty. With this apparatus
the enchanted tambourine or musical-box may be made without difficulty
to describe a circle of fifteen or sixteen feet in diameter above the
heads of the audience. When the medium has “manifested” sufficiently,
he has only to resume his seat, and give a violent upward lurch to the
table. This necessarily breaks the chain, and enables him to make a
plunge to his original position, the hands on either side immediately
closing on his own, in blissful unconsciousness that they have ever
lost control of them.
[Illustration: Fig. 28.]
A favourite “manifestation” is that of the “icy hand,” a hand which
wanders in an erratic manner among the audience, giving to one a
clammy touch, to another a sudden grip, the icy coldness of its
touch being amply sufficient (in the dark) to prove its supernatural
origin, and to compel a shudder of horror from the least nervous of
temperaments. This pleasing “phenomenon” is produced by nothing more
uncanny than--a damp kid glove! A kid glove is clipped into cold water,
and any superabundant moisture squeezed out of it. Thus prepared, it
lies _perdu_ in the tail pocket of the medium till wanted--when it is
quietly slipped on in the darkness, and the hand, thus attired, begins
to frolic playfully about the ears of the company, its clammy coldness
having (to the imaginative) a charmingly corpse-like character, and
provoking screams of delicious horror from the members of the “circle.”
But what are we to say to the mysterious hand which, in the “dim”
but not particularly “religious” light of the all but extinguished
gas, creeps from beneath the table-cover, and shows itself above
the edge of the table (_testibus_ the late Serjeant Cox and other
credible persons)? We do not undertake to give of this or any other
“manifestation” an explanation which shall apply to _all_ recorded
cases, each medium having his own peculiar _modus operandi_; but it
will probably be in the recollection of the reader that this was one
of the special “manifestations” of Dr. Monck, originally a Unitarian
Minister, subsequently a professional medium, and ultimately adjudged,
with unquestionable propriety, a rogue and vagabond, a year or two
since. Dr. Monck was confessedly a medium of the first rank; indeed,
notwithstanding the exposure at Huddersfield, we believe some of the
more thorough-going spiritualists retain their faith in him still.
By favour of Mr. Lodge, the gentleman to whose courage and acuteness
the public are indebted for the exposure of a peculiarly mischievous
impostor, we are enabled to give Dr. Monck’s special method of working
this and a few other leading “manifestations.”
[Illustration: Fig. 29.]
A dummy hand of small size, with the fingers slightly bent, is attached
to a piece of broad elastic about three feet in length. This in turn
is fastened to a belt round the performer’s waist, and thence passes
down (say) his _left_ trouser leg, the hand reposing, when not wanted,
within the garment, a few inches above the ancle. To the wrist of
the hand is appended a kind of elastic sleeve of five or six inches
in length. (In Monck’s case, if we remember right, it consisted of
the upper portion of an ordinary sock.) The medium, thus prepared,
takes his seat at one side of a square table, with an overhanging
table-cover, allowing no one else to be seated at the same side of the
table. (Those who had the privilege of seeing Dr. Monck produce this
particular “manifestation” will remember that the above conditions
were always strictly insisted on.) Some one present is requested to
lower the gas. “A little lower, please. A little lower yet!” till, as
a natural consequence, it goes out altogether. “Dear me!” says the
medium, “I am extremely sorry! I did not intend you to turn it out.
Pray light it again.” This is done, and it is again lowered, but this
time only to a dim twilight. Meanwhile, under cover of the momentary
darkness, the medium has quietly crossed his left foot over his right
knee, pulled down the dummy hand, slipped the “sleeve” portion over the
toe of his left boot, and, with the foot masked by the table-cover,
calmly bides his time. Presently, on the right hand of the medium,
something is seen to be moving under the table-cover, making apparent
efforts to come out. The medium, at the same time, prepares the
minds of the spectators by declaring that he sees a hand floating
about,--that it has touched him, and so on. Presently he gradually
draws his foot, still crossed over the right knee, from under the
table-cover, and allows the hand to show itself just above the surface,
the effect to the spectators being as in Fig. 30, the ridiculous
reality as in Fig. 31. Dr. Monck went so far as to offer a set of
“fairy bells” to the touch of the spirit hand, and partly by scraping
the hand against the wires (or rather the wires against the hand), and
partly by a judicious use of his own fingers, produced sounds which,
though not particularly harmonious, passed muster fairly enough as
the production of a hand without a body. The manifestation over, the
performer has only to place the left foot on the ground, and with the
other foot dislodge the dummy hand, which is forthwith spontaneously
drawn back by the elastic band beneath the sheltering trouser. The gas
being turned up, sceptical gentlemen may search beneath the table, but
in vain.
[Illustration: Fig. 30.]
The working of the above feat demands of course some amount of
lissomness in the lower limbs, but nothing beyond what any ordinarily
active man, particularly if of spare build, could readily accomplish
after a week or so of practice. The use of the lower limbs in a
quadrumanous fashion is a stock artifice among the mediums. There is
little doubt that a good many of the manifestations of the notorious
“Dr. Slade,” of Bow Street celebrity, were produced in this manner,
his unusual length of limb being a great advantage to him. The medium
in this case wears light Oxford shoes or Albert slippers, which can be
readily slipped off or on. The tip of each sock is cut off, leaving
the toes completely bare. Thus equipped, the medium has but to slip
his shoe off under the table, and with the great and second toe he is
enabled to pull ladies’ dresses, pinch gentlemen’s legs, ring a bell
placed under the table, &c., &c.
A second speciality of Dr. Monck was a mysterious power of attraction,
by virtue of which, tambourines, photographic albums, &c., moved in
the twilight across the table _towards the medium_. If some daring
sceptic asked the Doctor whether he could not induce them to move to
one side, or in the opposite direction, he was wont discreetly to reply
that he found it better “not to attempt to dictate to the spirits in
such particulars.” The reader will appreciate the wisdom of this reply
on hearing the explanation of the _modus operandi_. Like most great
inventions, it is simplicity itself when explained. The trick literally
hangs on a thread--a black silk thread of about 2 feet 6 inches long,
with a bent pin at each end. One of these is hooked into the elastic
side of the performer’s right boot, the other into the cloth of his
trousers, at the point which tailors describe as the “fork.” To work
the trick, the medium (the lights being first duly lowered), lifts the
right foot on to the left knee, thereby slackening the thread, unhooks
the upper bent pin, and attaches it to the edge of the tambourine, or
hooks it into the surface of a sheet of paper, newspaper, or the like,
on which some article has been placed. His hands may now lie motionless
on the table, or even be securely grasped by inquirers on either side,
for they have no more to do with the matter. A gradual extension of the
right leg tightens the thread, and causes the article attached to it to
move towards the performer. The arrangement above described does not
admit of a movement in any other direction. Doubtless, Dr. Monck found
his cool evasion of this little difficulty so readily accepted by the
faithful, that it was hardly worth while to seek to conquer it, though
an expert conjuror would find but little difficulty in doing so.
[Illustration: Fig. 31.]
Another manifestation was the performance of the “spirit musical-box”:
an ordinary musical-box, which, being placed on the table, and shielded
from interference by, say, an empty cigar-box placed over it, played or
ceased to play at the command of the medium.
This effect was produced by the aid of a _second_ musical-box, playing
the same airs as the first, and attached by an elastic band to the leg
of the medium, just above the bend of the knee, of course within the
trouser. When not in use the box rested beneath the knee, but when
required for action it was brought round to the front of the leg,
resting above the knee. The box was so arranged that pressure upon a
stud at top caused it to play, the music immediately ceasing when such
pressure was removed. The working of the trick will now be clear. The
box on the table remains silent throughout, but when it is commanded
to play, the medium with his knee presses the concealed box against
the under surface of the table, again relaxing the pressure when it is
desired that the music shall cease. The illusion, so far as sound is
concerned, is perfect.
The above explanations, be it remarked, are not merely speculative. Dr.
Monck beat such a hurried retreat from the scene of his disaster, that
he left all the above appliances, with others too numerous to mention,
behind him. They were taken possession of by the chief constable of
Huddersfield, and told their own tale to any skilled observer.
We could multiply instances almost _ad infinitum_. There is hardly a
professional medium now before the public, who has not been, at some
time or other, detected in barefaced imposture; and there is hardly
a stock trick of the mediums (slate trick, writing on the ceiling,
_et hoc genus omne_), that is not perfectly well known to legitimate
conjurors, although, as a matter of professional policy, they find it
more profitable to keep, than to expose, the secret. To those who have
any lurking doubt as to the real nature of spiritualism, we cannot
do better than commend a perusal of Mr. Maskelyne’s clever little
book, “Modern Spiritualism,” wherein he has described, in a light
and amusing form, the rise and progress of this most discreditable
craze, and chronicled the exposures which the leading professors of
the craft from time to time have met with. We are glad to note that he
promises, at some future time, to supplement this work with another,
explaining the whole secrets of the mediumistic art, a task which no
man is better qualified to perform. Meanwhile, the seeker after truth
combined with amusement cannot do better than pay a visit to the great
anti-spiritualist himself at the Egyptian Hall, where he will witness
“manifestations,” though introduced in comic guise, to the full as
“genuine,” and infinitely more surprising, than the stock achievements
of the spiritualists. Here he will see Mr. Cooke--though bound and
sealed and enveloped in network from head to foot--ring bells, rattle
tambourines, exhibit spirit-hands, &c., &c., finally carrying the
cabinet with him in an aërial flight about the hall. Here he will find
walking-sticks justify their name by walking spontaneously across the
stage, tables defying not only the _vis inertiæ_ but the power of
gravitation, tambourines that “rap” visibly in answer to questions,
and, finally, see Mr. Maskelyne himself, not under the convenient shade
of darkness, but illumined by a very respectable amount of gaslight,
float gently upwards towards the roof of the hall. The reader who has
carefully followed Robert-Houdin’s description of the “floating table”
in an earlier section, may probably make a shrewd conjecture at the
nature of the means (of course mechanical), by which this particular
effect is produced.
Here we pause to anticipate an objection which will inevitably be
raised by “true believers,” if any such chance to peruse these humble
pages. “Mechanical means!” it will be said. “Of course! Mr. Maskelyne
performs upon a stage, and has full command of stage appliances. But
how do you account for the well-authenticated instances of the medium
having been floated about the room in a house which he then visited for
the first time, and where the use of any mechanical means for such a
purpose was clearly out of the question?”
We do not pretend to account for it, gentle reader, for we utterly
deny that any such impertinent interference with the laws of nature
ever took place. The “well-authenticated instances” referred to have
invariably happened in darkness, and the utmost the most positive
person can say is, that during such darkness, something or other
happened which _gave him the impression_ that the medium’s manly form
had quitted _terra firma_, and was floating about the room. Now such
an impression can be produced by the simplest possible means. Note
the conditions. A circle of persons is seated in a room in total
darkness; they are warned to expect something supernatural. They wait
in this unpleasant expectation until they perforce become more or less
nervous. They are kept in an attitude of fixed attention, which, long
maintained, tends to merge, as the physiological student is well aware,
into the “hypnotic” or morbidly impressionable state. Every creak of
a chair, every sound, however minute, may be the outward and visible
sign of a message from another world. Under such circumstances, when
the musical-box spontaneously strikes up “Home, sweet Home!” when
the medium remarks “I am leaving the floor; don’t notice me; talk of
something else;” and then a shadowy something, with an unmistakable
perfume of leather, passes over the heads of the assembled group, the
heel of a boot perhaps resting lightly on a head or a shoulder in its
passage,--who so sceptical as to doubt that the medium has really
been “levitated” in the manner suggested? Who so sceptical, indeed?
unless in truth he was aware, or was shrewd enough to suspect, that
the medium, under cover of the darkness, had quietly taken off his
boots, slipped them upon his hands, and gently moved them backwards and
forwards over the heads of the awe-stricken investigators (Fig. 32).
[Illustration: Fig. 32.]
The process of reasoning is obvious. “Here are the medium’s boots,
floating in the air on a level with our faces. Where a man’s boots
are, there his feet must be; and if a man’s feet are floating in the
air, his whole body must be floating also. _Ergo_, we are henceforth
prepared to make affidavit that the medium did at such and such a time
actually float about such and such a room in our presence.”
Lest the simplicity of the explanations we have here given should tend
to discredit their genuineness, we may remind the reader that the art
of conjuring consists not half so much in doing wonderful things (for
what is actually done is often very simple), as in persuading the
spectator that wonderful things are done. It is a matter of common
knowledge among conjurors, that not one spectator in a hundred, unless
he be himself a conjuror, can give even a fairly correct account
of what has been _visibly_ done in the performance of a trick. And
if such be the case in broad gaslight and with every opportunity
of observation, how much more is it likely to be so in darkness or
semi-darkness, with scarce half of the physical senses permitted to be
used, and the mental vision obscured by the belief or semi-belief of
supernatural intervention.--ED.]
CHAPTER XIV.
THE ENCHANTED PORTFOLIO.
Every one knows that it is an axiom of physics, that that which is
contained is smaller than that which contains it, and conversely. This
incontestible truth, or axiom, however, appears to receive a practical
contradiction from the trick which we are about to discuss. The reader
will be enabled to form his own opinion on the subject from a perusal
of the brief descriptive sketch with which I propose to preface my
technical explanation.
* * * * *
The magician comes forward with a drawing portfolio under his arm,
rests it on slight trestles placed well forward on the stage, and takes
from it in succession,--
1. Sundry engravings.
2. A couple of elegant bonnets, the one of black velvet, with a white
feather, the other of pink satin trimmed with flowers.
3. Four live doves.
4. Three large stewpans, one filled with haricot beans, another with
water, and the third with fire.
5. A cage, with a number of canary birds flying from perch to perch.
6. A child of five or six years old.
It should be specially mentioned that the portfolio is at most not more
than an inch and a quarter thick, and that the performer closes it each
time, after producing one of the objects above mentioned.
* * * * *
Before proceeding to give the explanations necessary for the
performance of the trick, it will be as well to first describe its
scenic arrangement, with the addition of the “patter” which serves to
give colour to the appearance of the articles.
When the portfolio has been placed on the trestles, and the ribbons
have been untied, you commence by producing an engraving representing
a charming half-length portrait of a lady, life-size, but without
head-dress. You close the portfolio.
“I observe,” you remark, “that the lady has come out of the portfolio
bareheaded. Probably she forgot to bring out her bonnet with her. Ah,
yes! here it is.”
You produce the first bonnet, and close the portfolio. “This bonnet
is for winter wear; it should surely be accompanied by one for summer
also.”
You open the portfolio again, and produce a satin bonnet; close the
portfolio, immediately opening it again and taking out another drawing
representing a bird--
“Ah, here is a bird. It is pretty certain that we shall find none but
pictorial specimens here. However, here is a dove which has tried to
get in; but, good Heavens, in what a sad condition!”
You here exhibit a stuffed dove crushed quite flat.
“It is dead! But I see there is another, which has resisted the
pressure. This one seems lively enough.”
You exhibit it, then another, and another, and lastly a fourth. You
have in this way produced four doves, which you place in succession on
the edges of the portfolio, which has remained open. (At night doves
are so docile that they do not flutter about, but remain just where
they happen to be placed.) After having put them on one side, you close
the portfolio; then, an instant later, open it again, and take out a
drawing representing two cooks, fighting with stewpans.
“Aha, here is a row in the kitchen.[50] The culinary utensils cannot
be very far off. In fact, here is a large stewpan filled with haricot
beans.”
You take out the article in question, and place it on a side table,
then, returning to the portfolio, you take out another stewpan, full of
water.
“Ah, no doubt this is the water they were going to put the haricots in,
it is quite boiling.”
(You dip your finger in, and withdraw it smartly, though the water is
not really hot.)
“--And no wonder, for here is the fire with which it was boiled.”
You take out the third stewpan, and place it on one side with the
other, and close the portfolio, almost immediately opening it again.
“Here is an article which I had forgotten to take out.”
You produce the cage full of birds, which you bring forward to the
audience for inspection. On going back to the stage, you give a smart
rap on the portfolio, which has remained open.
“Nothing here now, at any rate,” you remark. “Neither anything nor
anybody.”
“Yes, there _is_ somebody,” says the child, lifting his little head
above the edge of the portfolio; “and I should like to come out and
get a little air, for it’s terribly close in here.”
You take out the child, and instantly come forward to show the
spectators the inside of the portfolio, which does not differ in any
respect from ordinary portfolios.
This trick requires great neatness of execution to perform it
satisfactorily, particularly as to the production of the child.
* * * * *
_Explanation._ Of the various articles which are produced from the
portfolio, some are placed there beforehand, and the remainder are
introduced during the course of the trick. The former are the drawings,
the bonnets, the flattened dove, the cover or false bottom of the
stewpan, containing the beans, and the cage. The latter are the
stewpans, the living doves, and the child.
* * * * *
_Preparation and Arrangement of the various objects prior to the
execution of the trick._--The portfolio, as we have already stated,
has an external thickness of an inch and a quarter. This allows about
three-quarters of an inch of inside space for the concealment of the
different objects. The portfolio is made of very stiff mill-board.
(Latterly I substituted for the pasteboard a couple of pieces of
sheet-iron covered with paper and leather, which, while affording
greater strength, gained an additional sixth part of an inch of
internal space.) As is frequently the case in portfolios, in order to
protect the works of art within, a piece of green cloth was attached to
one of the outer edges, and thence spread over the interior. This cloth
flap, (whose purpose we shall presently explain,) instead of being laid
_over_ the various articles, is placed under them. At one side, just
within the portfolio, is a jointed elbow-piece, holding the portfolio,
when occasion requires, open at an angle of 45° to 50°.
* * * * *
_The Engravings._--These serve to hide the movements which the
performer makes in taking from his own person the articles which are
introduced into the portfolio. The better to serve this purpose, they
are pasted upon thin sheets of cardboard, in order to give them some
little stiffness.
* * * * *
_The Ladies’ Bonnets._--These are made upon skeletons of watch spring,
bent to a form corresponding with the prevailing fashion. By the aid of
a slit which is made down the back of the bonnet, it may be spread out
and laid flat in the portfolio, taking up scarcely any room in point
of thickness. Before it is produced, and while it is yet hidden by the
portfolio, it spontaneously re-assumes its proper shape, while the
hinder part, which works on a hinge, also resumes its position. A hook
and eye secure the whole in a substantial manner.
At the date when I first invented this trick, it was the fashion to
wear very large bonnets, which gave additional effect to the illusion.
* * * * *
_The Stewpans._--These, when they are taken out of the portfolio,
appear to be all of the same size, but in reality they are made to fit
one within another. Their handles each terminate with a bent portion,
which fitting one within another, make one only, and may thus be
attached simultaneously to the stewpans, as will be explained shortly.
We proceed to show how, at a given moment, they are made to contain
fire, water, and haricot beans.
In order to facilitate our explanation we will call the largest stewpan
No. 1, the next in size No. 2, and the smallest No. 3.
No. 3 is destined to hold water. To that end, after it has been filled
with that liquid, it is covered over with a piece of waterproof cloth,
tied strongly round the edge with thread, after the manner of a pot of
preserves. In order that there shall be no fear of the thread slipping,
a slender bead of brass wire is soldered all round the edge. There
is, however, a gap in this wire bead, at the point of junction with
the handle, for a space of about a couple of inches. This enables the
performer to get the cover off with greater ease, by taking hold of it
at this point. No. 2 is provided with a false top of three-quarters of
an inch deep, a sort of hollow cover which just fits into the stewpan.
When this false top is filled with haricot beans and placed in the
stewpan, it makes the latter appear quite full of beans. Stewpan No.
1 has no speciality. This is destined to contain fire, as will be
explained in due course.
* * * * *
_The Four Doves._--These are placed in a little bag of so simple a
construction as scarcely to need any explanation. They are each stowed
in a separate compartment which partly covers them. These compartments
are placed in rows of two each, one above the other, forming a package
of regular shape, and but little bulk. A hook of iron wire, three and
a half inches long, is so arranged as to keep the package closed as
long as it is suspended; but as soon as the doves are placed within the
portfolio the whole simultaneously opens, and the doves are free.
* * * * *
_The Bird Cage._--It would demand too great a space to give an exact
description of this cage;[51] but I doubt not I shall be able to give
the reader a sufficiently clear idea of it from the explanation which
follows.
The cage has four larger and two smaller sides, the former constituting
the top, bottom, and two of the sides. The four larger sides of the
cage, instead of being made solid at their angles, are hinged one
to another, thereby allowing the cage to be flattened out, and so
present but very little thickness. The two smaller sides, or ends,
are also movable, but are attached to the cage by one side only, and
serve to keep the whole in position when restored to its proper shape.
The bottom of the cage is of sheet-iron, and so arranged as to allow
sufficient space to accommodate the canaries even in its flattened
condition.
When the performer unfolds the cage, he quickly closes the two smaller
sides, so that the birds shall not have time to escape. The handle of
the cage is also on hinges, so as to lie flat when necessary.
* * * * *
_The Child._--The child, at a particular moment, places himself in the
portfolio without the spectators perceiving it; in fact, he is, so to
speak, shot into it, after the manner we are about to describe.
On the side towards which the portfolio opens, and immediately beneath
its outer edge, a small trap, working on hinges, is cut in the floor
of the stage. Beneath this trap is placed, in a vertical position, an
oblong box, in which the child stands erect. The bottom is movable, and
may be elevated by a lever so as to raise the child to a level with the
portfolio. We shall see later on the manner in which the operation is
effected.
* * * * *
_Preparation of the Portfolio before its Introduction on the
Stage._--You first spread the cloth flap, over the inside of the
portfolio; and then place thereon the following articles:--
1. The flattened cage with the birds inside.
2. By the side of the cage, the false top of the stewpan, filled with
haricot beans.
3. The picture of the battle between the cooks.
4. The flattened dove.
5. The “bird” picture.
6. The two bonnets, flattened out, and laid side by side.
7. The “young lady” picture.
* * * * *
_Preparation of the Stewpans._--Fill stewpan No. 3 with water, cover
it over, and tie on the cover as already explained. Place at the
bottom of No. 1 a little bag made of very thin paper, and filled with
a powder which, when burnt, produces a red flame.[52] A quick-match,
communicating with the powder, projects from the bag, so as to be
quickly set fire to; for which purpose a lucifer match is placed beside
the bag in the stewpan. This done, you place the stewpans one within
another.
The doves, as already stated, are placed in a bag, so as to form a
single parcel.
When you are about to perform the trick, you hook the group of stewpans
on to a wire staple which you have behind you, beneath your coat, as
explained in my work entitled “_Les secrets de la prestidigitation_,”
pp. 397, 405.[53] The doves are hooked on in like manner, so as to rest
immediately above the stewpans.
All these arrangements being made, and yourself equipped as above, you
take the portfolio and make your entrance on the stage. Then, after
having placed the portfolio upon the trestles, you proceed to extract
the various objects, making the most of your “patter,” as already
described.
_First time of opening._--The young lady’s portrait, and the two
bonnets.
_Second time of opening._--The bird picture. In the act of lifting
the drawing above the portfolio, as though merely taking it out with
the left hand, the performer’s body is for the moment masked by the
portfolio, and he avails himself of the opportunity to rapidly unhook
the bag with the doves, and place it within the portfolio.
_Third time of opening._--The representation of the “row in the
kitchen” serves in like manner to mask the body while the group of
stewpans is introduced into the portfolio. Once fairly introduced, they
are then placed side by side. The false bottom, with the haricot beans,
is slipped into No. 2. Before bringing out No. 1, you strike the match
and set light to the composition, inducing the belief that the stewpan
is quite full of fire.
_Fourth time of opening._--You put the cage in shape, and produce it
from the portfolio, which from this point remains open, being supported
by the jointed elbow-piece.
Here begins a little bit of acting, designed to facilitate the
introduction of the child into the portfolio without detection by
the spectators. The performer comes quickly forward to the audience
in order to exhibit the cage, and passing his hand within it, makes
believe to be about to distribute the birds, exclaiming:
“What lady or gentleman would like to have one of them?”
The spectators, thinking the trick concluded, and, on the other hand,
each wishing to have one of the little birds, have all their attention
concentrated on the cage. Meanwhile, however, this is what takes
place on the stage: The conjuror’s assistant, who is close to the
portfolio at the moment when the cage is taken therefrom, watching his
opportunity when the whole attention of the public is directed to the
cage, lets fall from the portfolio the green cloth flap, which hangs
down to the ground, and thereby hides the space between the portfolio
and the flooring. Taking his cue from this, a person placed at the
“wing” moves the lever of which I have already spoken, and thereby
“shoots” the child, so to speak, up to the level of the portfolio, into
which he instantly creeps. His entrance once effected, the assistant
coolly lifts up the cloth again, as though setting right a mere
accident.
The whole movement was executed on my stage with such promptitude, that
even to a spectator who, we will suppose, had never taken his eyes from
the portfolio, there was nothing more than the bare fact of a cloth
accidentally dropped, and immediately picked up again. I have often
timed the introduction of the child, which did not occupy more than
four seconds.[54]
I have treated this trick at considerable length, as being one of my
special favourites, and because I regard it as being one of the most
astonishing that can be exhibited to an audience.
FOOTNOTES:
[50] “_Une batterie de cuisine._” The pun of the original is
unavoidably lost in translation.--ED.
[51] Robert-Houdin elsewhere states that this cage, which, in fact,
formed the germ of the trick, was the invention of an amateur, M.
Bouly, of Cambrai. The remaining effects were added by Robert-Houdin
himself.--ED.
[52] The red-fire powder is composed as follows:--1. Nitrate of
strontian, in powder, and carefully dried, 20 parts; 2. Gum benzoin, 4
parts; 3. Flower of sulphur, dried, 1 part.--R.-H.
[53] In the English version, “_The Secrets of Conjuring and Magic_”
(Routledge), the corresponding passages will be found at pp. 358,
367.--ED.
[54] We can confirm the above statement from personal experience,
having had the opportunity of seeing the trick performed in Paris by
M. Robert-Houdin the younger. Some of the details, as above described,
were omitted, but the introduction of the child was retained; and,
though fully conversant, theoretically with the _modus operandi_, found
it difficult to believe, until assured by the event, that the child had
been introduced in the mere moment of time during which the piece of
cloth was permitted to hang down from the edge of the portfolio.
[Illustration: Fig. 33.]
The ingenuity of later inventors has added new incidents to the
trick. One is the production of a large five-branch chandelier, with
lighted candles, as shown in Fig. 33. The central rod, or stem, of
the chandelier is telescopic, one part sliding within the other. The
five arms, which are slightly unequal in length, work on this as a
pivot, folding flat one against the other, as shown in Fig. 34, and in
that condition occupy but very little space. The candles, the wicks
of which are touched with paraffin or turpentine, to cause them to
ignite readily, are lighted with an ordinary lucifer under cover of the
portfolio, before the chandelier is expanded into the shape in which it
is afterwards produced.
[Illustration: Fig. 34.]
Another object, which is now frequently produced from the portfolio,
is a square fernery with glass sides, standing about 15 inches high,
and of the appearance depicted in Fig. 35. The framework of the fernery
is made of tin. The feet--which are not solid at the angles, as they
at first sight appear to be, but each consist of two separate pieces
of tin--may be folded flat against the bottom, and the top and sides
in like manner fold, down one by one, the whole occupying ultimately
a space of little more than an inch deep. Of the ferns, the greater
number are glued flat against the glass sides, while a few in the
centre are attached to a spring flap, folding down with the sides, but
rising as soon as these are lifted.--ED.
[Illustration: Fig. 35.]
CHAPTER XV.
THE MAGIC DRUM.
At the command of the magician, a drum, placed upon a slender
tripod-stand, beats sundry marches with the skill and precision of a
regimental drum-major; with this difference, however, that the magic
drum sounds without the aid of drum-sticks, and without any visible
controlling power.
This performance takes place in the first instance upon the stage,
but in order to preclude all suspicion of an acoustical illusion, the
performer afterwards hooks the drum on to a couple of cords hanging
from the ceiling of the hall. The instrument, swinging backwards and
forwards over the heads of the spectators, seems to acquire fresh
vigour and spirit in the execution of its marches and roulades.
This marvellous performance, which might readily be made to pass for a
spiritualistic manifestation, rests on an extremely simple principle.
Within the drum is a _vibrateur de la Rive_, more commonly known as an
“electric bell” movement. (The reader will find a full description of
this kind of bell in any work on electro-dynamics, and particularly in
the treatises of Count du Moncel.) The hammer of this movement is so
arranged as to strike on the skin of the drum by way of “bell.”
It is well known that, as part of the mechanism of an electric bell,
there is always, at a greater or less distance from the bell itself,
a stud or “push,” which has only to be pressed in order to set the
apparatus in motion. So long as the finger rests upon this stud,
the metallic vibrations continue to be heard; only ceasing when the
pressure is removed.
This stud is placed behind the scenes, ready to the hand of an
assistant, who plays the part of the invisible medium. Artfully
concealed wires and metallic connections communicate with the inside
of the drum, whether placed on the tripod, or hanging by the cords.
With these appliances the execution of any military music is an
extremely simple matter, since you have at your disposition raps and
rolls of any given duration.
* * * * *
In point of fact (and the experiment may be tried upon the push of an
electric bell) if you press the stud for an extremely short time, the
value of a semi-quaver for instance, the hammer will only strike a
single tap. This is the “rap,” or single stroke of the drumstick. As
to the various _rrrrr_ or “rolls,” they are produced by durations of
pressure equivalent to quavers, crochets, minims, &c. The drum becomes
simply an instrument on which the assistant plays, with greater or less
execution.
To give greater spirit to the performance of the drum, a second
vibrator may be added within, and a second push under the hand of
the assistant, who can then with one hand keep up a continuous roll,
while with the other he beats the measure of the march. This, in drum
practice, is a special feat, to be executed only by the most skilful
performers.
In order to make the execution more perfect, a “barrel” may be
constructed as in organs, the pins upon which, duly placed, will
transmit the electric fluid at the exact intervals necessary for the
due execution of the roulades desired.
THE END.
PRINTED BY LOVE AND WYMAN, LTD., GREAT QUEEN STREET, W.C.
Works by Professor Hoffmann.
=MODERN MAGIC.= A Practical Treatise on the Art of Conjuring. Tenth
Edition. 528 pp. Price =5s.=
=MORE MAGIC.= Second Edition. 469 pp. Price =5s.=
=DRAWING-ROOM AMUSEMENTS AND EVENING PARTY ENTERTAINMENTS.=
Third Edition. 512 pp. Cloth, =2s. 6d.=
=THE SECRETS OF CONJURING AND MAGIC; or, How to become a Wizard.=
Fourth Edition. 394 pp. Price =2s. 6d.= By ROBERT-HOUDIN.
Translated and Edited, with Notes, by Professor HOFFMANN.
=THE SECRETS OF STAGE CONJURING.= Third Edition. 260 pp. Price =2s.
6d.=
By ROBERT-HOUDIN. Translated and Edited by Professor HOFFMANN.
=DRAWING-ROOM CONJURING.= Second Edition. 192 pp. Price =1s.= From
the French. Translated and Edited by Professor HOFFMANN.
=THE BOOK OF CARD AND TABLE GAMES.= Second Edition. 650 pp. =5s.=
Edited by Professor HOFFMANN.
=HOYLE’S GAMES MODERNISED.= Twenty-first Edition. 32mo. 454 pp.
Picture Boards, =1s. 6d.=; Cloth, =2s.= Edited by Professor
HOFFMANN.
=HOME GYMNASTICS.= Third Edition. Revised and Enlarged. Cloth. 208 pp.
=1s.= (Oval Series.)
=THE GAMES OF GRECO (CHESS).= In Fancy Boards, =1s. 6d.=; Cloth, =2s.=
272 pp. (Pocket Hoyle Series). Translated and Edited by Professor
HOFFMANN.
=THE ILLUSTRATED BOOK OF PATIENCE GAMES.= Crown 8vo. 127 pp.
Price =2s. 6d.= From the German. Translated and Edited by
Professor HOFFMANN.
=DOMINOES=, by Professor HOFFMANN; and =DRAUGHTS=, by R. MCCULLOCH,
Editor of Anderson’s Great Work. Combined in One Volume. Price
=1s. 6d.=; Fancy Boards, or Cloth, =2s.= (Pocket Hoyle Series.)
=EVERY BOY’S BOOK OF SPORT AND PASTIME.= Edited by Professor
HOFFMANN. Demy 8vo. 926 pp. With 530 Illustrations. Handsomely
bound in Cloth. Price =5s.=; with Gilt Edges, =6s.=
GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SONS, LIMITED,
Broadway, Ludgate Hill, London.
Transcriber’s Note:
Obvious printing errors such as missing letters, accents, and
punctuation have been silently corrected in this version. Minor
inconsistencies and archaic forms have been retained as printed.
Some illustrations have been moved slightly within their chapters to
better fit the ebook format.
The footnotes have been relocated to the end of their respective
chapters and renumbered to better fit the ebook format.