been told he did not chuse to gratify the curiosity of every one), the
Abbe waited upon him, informed him of his design, and was very cordially
received. He was taken into a parlour on the ground floor; when
Monsieur St. Gille and himself sat on the opposite sides of a small
fire, with only a table between them, the Abbe keeping his eyes
constantly fixed on Monsieur St. Gille all the time. Half an hour had
passed, during which that gentleman diverted the Abbe with a relation of
many comic scenes which he had given occasion to by this talent of his;
when, all on a sudden, the Abbe heard himself called by his name and
title, in a voice that seemed to come from the roof of a house at a
distance. He was almost petrified with astonishment: on recollecting
himself, however, he asked Monsieur St. Gille whether he had not just
then given him a specimen of his art? He was answered only by a smile.
But while the Abbe was pointing to the house from which the voice had
appeared to him to proceed, his surprise was augmented on hearing
himself answered, "It was not from that quarter," apparently in the same
kind of voice as before, but which now seemed to issue from under the
earth, at one of the corners of the room. In short, this factitious
voice played, as it were, every where about him, and seemed to proceed
from any quarter or distance from which the operator chose to transmit
it to him. The illusion was so very strong, that, prepared as the Abbe
was for this kind of conversation, his mere senses were absolutely
incapable of undeceiving him. Though conscious that the voice proceeded
from the mouth of Monsieur St. Gille, that gentleman appeared absolutely
mute while he was exercising this talent; nor could the author perceive
any change whatever in his countenance. He observed, however, at this
first visit, that Monsieur St. Gille contrived, but without any
affectation, to present only the profile of his face to him, while he
was speaking as a ventriloquist.
The next experiment made was no less curious than the former, and is
related as follows--
Monsieur St. Gille, returning home from a place where his business had
carried him, sought for shelter from an approaching thunder-storm, in a
neighbouring convent. Finding the whole community in mourning, he
inquires the cause, and is told, that one of their body had lately died,
who was the ornament and delight of the whole society. To pass away the
time, he walks into the church, attended by some of the religious, who
shew him the tomb of their deceased brother, and speak feelingly of the
scanty honours they had bestowed on his memory. Suddenly, a voice is
heard, apparently proceeding from the roof of the choir, lamenting the
situation of the deceased in purgatory, and reproaching the brotherhood
with their lukewarmness and want of zeal on his account. The friars, as
soon as their astonishment gave them power to speak, consult together,
and agree to acquaint the rest of the community with this singular
event, so interesting to the whole society.
Monsieur St. Gille, who wished to carry on the deception still farther,
dissuaded them from taking this step; telling them, that they will be
treated by their absent brethren as a set of fools and visionaries. He
recommended to them, however, the immediately calling the whole
community into the church, when the ghost of their departed brother may,
probably, reiterate his complaints. Accordingly, all the friars,
novices, lay-brothers, and even the domestics of the convent, are
immediately summoned and collected together. In a short time, the voice
from the roof renewed its lamentations and reproaches; and the whole
convent fell on their faces, and vowed a solemn reparation. As a first
step, they chaunted a _De Profundis_ in full choir; during the intervals
of which, the ghost occasionally expressed the comfort he received from
their pious exercises and ejaculations on his behalf. When all was over,
the Prior entered into a serious conversation with Monsieur St. Gille;
and, on the strength of what had just passed, sagaciously inveighed
against the absurd incredulity of our modern sceptics, and pretended
philosophers, as to the existence of ghosts or apparitions. Monsieur
St. Gille thought it now high time to undeceive the good fathers. This
purpose, however, he found extremely difficult to effect, till he had
prevailed upon them to return with him into the church, and there be
witnesses of the manner in which he had conducted this ludicrous
deception.
In consequence of these memoirs, presented by the author to the Royal
Academy of Sciences at Paris, in which he communicated to them the
observations that he had collected on the subject of ventriloquism in
general, and those he had made on Monsieur St. Gille in particular; that
learned body deputed two of its members, M. de Fouchy and Le Roi, to
accompany him to St. Germain-en-Laye, in order to verify the facts, and
to make their observations on the nature and causes of this
extraordinary faculty. In the course of this inquiry, a very singular
plan was laid and executed, to put Monsieur St. Gille's powers of
deception to the trial, by engaging him to exert them in the presence of
a large party, consisting of the commissaries of the Academy, and some
persons of the highest quality, who were to dine in the open forest near
St. Germain-en-Laye on a particular day. All the members of this party
were in the secret, except a certain lady, here designated by the title
of the Countess de B. who was pitched upon as a proper person for
Monsieur St. Gille's delusive powers, as she knew nothing either of him
or of ventriloquism; and possibly for another reason, which the Abbe,
through politeness, suppresses. She had been told in general, that this
party had been formed in consequence of a report, that an aerial spirit
had lately established itself in the forest of St. Germain-en-Laye; and
that a grand deputation from the Academy of Sciences was to pass the day
there, to inquire into the reality of the fact.
Monsieur St. Gille was one of the first of this select party; and,
previous to his joining the company in the forest, he completely
deceived one of the Commissaries of the Academy, who was then walking
apart from the rest, and whom he accidentally met. Just as he was
abreast of him, prepared and guarded as the academician was against a
deception of this kind, he verily believed that he heard his associate
M. de Fouchy, who was then with the company at above an hundred yards
distance, calling after him to return as expeditiously as possible. His
valet, too, after repeating to his master the purport of M. de Fouchy's
supposed acclamation, turned about towards the company, and, with the
greatest simplicity imaginable, bawled out as loud as he could, in
answer to him, "Yes, Sir."
After this promising beginning, the party sat down to dinner; and the
aerial spirit, who had been previously furnished with proper anecdotes
respecting the company, soon began to address the Countess of B.
particularly, in a voice that seemed to be in the air over their heads.
Sometimes he spoke to her from the tops of the trees around them, or
from the surface of the ground, but at a great distance; and at other
times seemed to speak from a considerable depth under her feet. During
the dinner, the spirit appeared to be absolutely inexhaustible in the
gallantries he addressed to her; though he sometimes said civil things
to the rest of the company. This kind of conversation lasted above two
hours; and, in fine, the Countess was firmly persuaded, as the rest of
the company affected to be, that this was the voice of an aerial spirit:
nor would she, as the author affirms, have been undeceived, had not the
rest of the company, by their unguarded behaviour, at length excited in
her some suspicions. The little plot against her was then owned; and she
acknowledged herself to be mortified only in being awakened from such a
pleasing delusion.
Several other instances of Monsieur St. Gille's talents are related. He
is not, however, the only ventriloquist now in being. The author, in the
course of his inquiries on this subject, was informed that the Baron de
Mengin, a German nobleman, possessed this art in a very high degree.
The Baron has also constructed a little puppet, or doll, (the lower jaw
of which he moves by a particular contrivance), with which he holds a
spirited kind of dialogue. In the course of it, the little virago is so
impertinent, that at last he thrusts her into his pocket; from whence
she seems, to those present, to grumble, and complain of her hard
treatment. Some time ago, the Baron, who was then at the court of
Bareith, being in company with the Prince de Deux Ponts, and other
noblemen, amused them with this scene. An Irish officer, who was then
present, was so firmly persuaded that the Baron's doll was a real living
animal, previously taught by him to repeat these responses, that he
watched his opportunity at the close of the dialogue, and suddenly made
an attempt to snatch it from his pocket. The little doll, as if in
danger of being suffocated, during the struggle occasioned by this
attempt, called out for help, and screamed incessantly from the pocket
till the officer desisted. She then became silent; and the Baron was
obliged to take her out from thence, to convince him, by handling her,
that she was a mere piece of wood.
It should have been observed, at the beginning of the Abbe's anecdotes,
that ventriloquism is the art of vocal deception. It is an art, or
quality, possessed by certain persons, by means of which they are
enabled to speak inwardly, having the power of forming speech by drawing
the air into the lungs, and to modify the voice in such a manner as to
make it seem to proceed from any distance, or in any direction whatever.
There is no doubt but many of these deceptions have been magnified by
weak people into those dreadful stories of apparitions and hobgoblins,
which the credulous and enthusiastic are too apt implicitly to believe.
THE
SCHOOL-BOY APPARITION.
A few years since, the inhabitants of Dorking, in Surrey, entertained a
notion, that a ghost walked in a certain place in that neighbourhood;
and that she (for it was an ancient lady, lately dead) was seen hovering
about the mansion-house, which was left uninhabited for some time; that
she would be up and down in the house very often in the day-time, making
a rumbling and a clattering noise; and in the night-time she walked in
the neighbouring fields, with a candle in her hand, and though the wind
blew ever so hard, it would not blow the candle out; that sometimes she
would appear in the open fields, sometimes up in the trees; and, in
particular, there was a little heath near Dorking, called Cotman Dean,
where, it was said, she was frequently seen.
There was a boarding-school of boys in that town, some of whom were
particularly roguish, and contrived all this walking, from the beginning
to the end. First, they got a small rope; and, tying one end of it to an
old chair which stood in an upper room of the house (for they had found
the means to get in and out of the house at pleasure), they brought the
other end of the rope down on the other side of the house, in a private
place, where it could not easily be seen; and by this they pulled the
old chair up, and then let it fall down again: this made a great noise
in the house, and was heard distinctly by many of the neighbours. Then
other boys of the same gang took care to call out the old women in the
next houses, that now they might hear the old lady playing her pranks;
and, accordingly, they would all assemble in the court-yard, where they
could plainly hear the noises, but not one of them would venture to go
up stairs. If any one offered to go a little way up, then all was quiet;
but, as soon as ever they retired, the rumbling would begin again. This
was the day's deception.
In the night, one of these unlucky boys got a dark lanthorn, which was
a thing, at that time, the country-people did not understand; and with
this he walked about the orchard, and two or three closes near the
house, shewing the light in different directions. His comrades would
then call all the old women about them to see it. Then, on a sudden, the
light would seem to go out, as the boy closed up the lanthorn. Then he
would run swiftly across the whole field, and shew his light again on
the other side. Now he would be up in a tree, then in the road, then
upon the middle of the heath; so that the country-people made no more
question, but that the old lady walked with a candle in her hand, and
that they saw the light of it; in a word, it passed for an apparition,
and was generally conceived as such by the neighbourhood, till the
knavery was discovered, the boys punished, and the towns-people laughed
at for their credulity.
THE
CREDULOUS PEASANTS.
No longer ago than the year 1788, when the husbandmen of Paris suffered
so severely by the devastation on the 13th of July in that year, many of
the farmers were positively so superstitious at their own created fears,
that, notwithstanding considerable sums were offered to indemnify them
for their losses, and to encourage them to carry on with spirit the
cultivation of their lands, with new seeds, new implements, &c. they
peremptorily refused, on account of a foolish report that was then
prevalent in some parts of the country where the storm happened. They
said, that two giants were seen peeping out of the clouds, and
threatening, with terrible countenances, gigantic frowns, and
high-sounding words, that they would return next year on the same
thirteenth day of July, with a greater scourge than they then felt.
Terrified either at the imagined report, or at the fancied sight of the
giants (which terror and a weak brain will often produce), many of the
unhappy sufferers abandoned their houses, and commenced beggars, rather
than return to the labours of the field: so great was their affright,
in consequence of that tremendous storm.
This story, though hardly credible, may be depended on as a fact, and
may be seen in many of the public prints of that time.
THE
NOCTURNAL DISTURBERS.
The following authentic story is related by Dr. Plot, in his Natural
History of Oxfordshire.
Soon after the murder of King Charles the First, a commission was
appointed to survey the King's house at Woodstock, with the manor, park,
woods, and other demesnes thereunto belonging; and one Collins, under a
feigned name, hired himself as Secretary to the Commissioners: who, upon
the thirteenth of October 1849, met, and took up their residence in the
King's own rooms. His Majesty's bed-chamber they made their kitchen; the
council-hall, their pantry; and the presence-chamber was the place where
they sat for the dispatch of business. His Majesty's dining room they
made their wood-yard, and stored it with the wood of the famous royal
oak, from the high park; which, that nothing might be left with the name
of the King about it, they had dug up by the roots, and split, and
bundled up into faggots for their firing.
Things being thus prepared, they sat on the 16th of the same month for
the dispatch of business; and in the midst of their first debate, there
entered a large black dog, as they thought, which made a dreadful
howling, overturned two or three of their chairs, and then crept under a
bed, and vanished. This gave them the greater surprise, as the doors
were kept constantly locked, so that no real dog could get in or out.
The next day, their surprise was increased; when, sitting at dinner in a
lower room, they heard plainly the noise of persons walking over their
heads, though they well knew the doors were all locked, and there could
be nobody there. Presently after, they heard also all the wood of the
King's oak brought by parcels from the dining-room, and thrown with
great violence into the chamber; as also the chairs, stools, tables, and
other furniture, forcibly hurled about the room; their own papers of the
minutes of their transactions torn; and the ink-glass broken. When this
noise had some time ceased, Giles Sharp, their Secretary, proposed to
enter first into these rooms; and, in presence of the Commissioners, of
whom he received the key, he opened the doors, and found the wood spread
about the room, the chairs tossed about, and broken, the papers torn,
and the ink-glass broken (as has been said); but not the least track of
any human creature, nor the least reason to suspect one, as the doors
were all fast, and the keys in the custody of the Commissioners. It was
therefore unanimously agreed, that the power who did this mischief must
have entered the room at the key-hole.
The night following, Sharp, the Secretary, with two of the
Commissioners' servants, as they were in bed in the same room (which
room was contiguous to that where the Commissioners lay), had their
beds' feet lifted so much higher than their heads, that they expected to
have their necks broken; and then they were let fall at once with so
much violence, as shook the whole house, and more than ever terrified
the Commissioners.
On the night of the nineteenth, as all were in bed in the same room for
greater safety, and lights burning by them, the candles in an instant
went out with a sulphurous smell: and, that moment, many trenchers of
wood were hurled about the room; which, next morning, were found to be
the same their Honours had eaten off the day before, which were all
removed from the pantry, though not a lock was found opened in the whole
house. The next night, they fared still worse: the candles went out as
before; the curtains of their Honours' beds were rattled to and fro
with great violence; their Honours received many cruel blows and bruises
by eight great pewter dishes, and a number of wooden trenchers, being
thrown on their beds, which being heaved off were heard rolling about
the room, though in the morning none of them were to be seen. The
following night, likewise, they were alarmed with the tumbling down of
oaken billets about their beds, and other frightful noises: but all was
clear in the morning, as if no such thing had happened. The next night,
the keeper of the King's house and his dog lay in the Commissioners'
room; and then they had no disturbance. But, on the night of the
twenty-second, though the dog lay in the room as before, yet the candles
went out, a number of brickbats fell from the chimney into the room, the
dog howled piteously, their bed-clothes were all stripped off, and their
terror increased. On the twenty-fourth night, they thought all the wood
of the King's oak was violently thrown down by their bed-sides; they
counted sixty-four billets that fell, and some hit and shook the beds in
which they lay: but in the morning none were found there, nor had the
door been opened where the billet-wood was kept. The next night, the
candles were put out, the curtains rattled, and a dreadful crack like
thunder was heard; and one of the servants, running to see if his
master was not killed, found three dozen of trenchers laid smoothly
under the quilt by him.
But all this was nothing to what succeeded afterwards. The twenty-ninth,
about midnight, the candles went out; something walked majestically
through the room, and opened and shut the windows; great stones were
thrown violently into the room, some of which fell on the beds, others
on the floor; and, about a quarter after one, a noise was heard, as of
forty cannon discharged together, and again repeated at about eight
minutes distance. This alarmed and raised all the neighbourhood; who,
coming into their Honours' rooms, gathered up the great stones,
fourscore in number, and laid them in the corner of a field, where, in
Dr. Plot's time, who reported this story, they were to be seen. This
noise, like the discharge of cannon, was heard through all the country
for sixteen miles round. During these noises, which were heard in both
rooms together, the Commissioners and their servants gave one another
over for lost, and cried out for help; and Giles Sharp, snatching up a
sword, had well nigh killed one of their Honours, mistaking him for the
spirit, as he came in his shirt, from his own room to their's. While
they were together, the noise was continued, and part of the tiling of
the house was stripped off, and all the windows of an upper room were
taken away with it.
On the thirtieth at midnight, something walked into the chamber,
treading like a bear; it walked many times about, then threw a
warming-pan violently on the floor: at the same time a large quantity of
broken glass, accompanied with great stones and horses' bones, came
pouring into the room, with uncommon force; these were all found in the
morning, to the astonishment and terror of the Commissioners, who were
yet determined to go on with their business.
But, on the first of November, the most dreadful scene of all ensued.
Candles in every part of the house were lighted up, and a great fire
made. At midnight, the candles all yet burning, a noise, like the burst
of a cannon, was heard in the room, and the burning billets were tossed
about by it even into their Honours' beds, who called Giles and his
companions to their relief, otherwise the house had been burned to the
ground. About an hour after, the candles went out as usual; the crack of
as many cannon was heard; and many pailfuls of green stinking water were
thrown upon their Honours' beds; great stones were thrown in, as before;
the bed-curtains and bedsteads torn and broken; the windows shattered;
and the whole neighbourhood alarmed with the most dreadful noises; nay,
the very rabbit-stealers that were abroad that night in the warren, were
so terrified, that they fled for fear, and left their ferrets behind
them. One of their Honours, this night, spoke; and, in the name of God,
asked what it was? and why it disturbed them so? No answer was given to
this, but the noise ceased for a while; when the spirit came again, and,
as they all agreed, brought with it seven devils worse than itself. One
of the servants now lighted a large candle, and placed himself in the
doorway between the two chambers, to see what passed; and, as he
watched, he plainly saw a hoof striking the candle and candlestick into
the middle of the room, and afterwards making three scrapes over the
snuff, scraped it out. Upon this the same person was so bold as to draw
a sword; but he had scarce got it out, when he felt an invisible hand
had hold of it too, and pulled with him for it, and, at length
prevailing, struck him so violently on the head with the hilt, that he
fell down for dead with the blow. At this instant was heard another
burst, like the discharge of the broadside of a ship of war; and, at
about a minute or two's distance each, no less than nineteen more such.
These shook the house so violently, that they expected every moment it
would fall upon their heads. The neighbours, on this, as has been said,
being all alarmed, flocked to the house in great numbers, and all
joined in prayer and psalm-singing; during which the noise still
continued in the other rooms, and the report of cannon was heard, as
from without, though no visible agent was seen to discharge them.
But what was the most alarming of all, and put an end to their
proceedings effectually, happened the next day, as they were all at
dinner; when a paper, in which they had signed a mutual agreement to
reserve a part of the premises out of the general survey, and afterwards
to share it equally amongst them, (which paper they had hid, for the
present, under the earth, in a pot in one corner of the room, in which
an orange-tree grew), was consumed in a wonderful manner, by the earth's
taking fire, with which the pot was filled, and burning violently with a
blue flame, and an intolerable stench, so that they were all driven out
of the house, to which they could never again be prevailed upon to
return.