The Humbugs of the World
by P. T. Barnum · English · Gutenberg #26640 · 686,501 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: The Humbugs of the World
Author: P. T. Barnum
Release date: September 16, 2008 [eBook #26640]
Most recently updated: January 4, 2021
Language: English
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Transcriber's Note
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. A list of corrections
is found at the end of the text. Inconsistencies in spelling and
hyphenation have been maintained. A list of inconsistently spelled
and hyphenated words is found at the end of the text. Oe ligatures
have been expanded.
THE
HUMBUGS OF THE WORLD.
AN ACCOUNT OF HUMBUGS, DELUSIONS, IMPOSITIONS,
QUACKERIES, DECEITS AND DECEIVERS
GENERALLY, IN ALL AGES.
BY
P. T. BARNUM.
"Omne ignotum pro mirifico."--"Wonderful, because mysterious."
NEW YORK:
_CARLETON. PUBLISHER. 413 BROADWAY._
1866.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by
G. W. CARLETON,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of
New York.
PUBLISHER'S NOTE.
One of Mr. Barnum's secrets of success is his unique methods of
advertising, and we can readily understand how he can bear to be
denounced as a "Humbug," because this popular designation though
undeserved in the popular acceptation of it, "brought grist to his
mill." He has constantly kept himself before the public--nay, we may say
that he has _been_ kept before the public constantly, by the stereotyped
word in question; and what right, or what desire, could he have to
discard or complain of an epithet which was one of the prospering
elements of his business as "a showman?" In a narrow sense of the word
he is a "Humbug:" in the larger acceptation he is _not_.
He has in several chapters of this book elaborated the distinction, and
we will only say in this place, what, indeed, no one who knows him will
doubt, that, aside from his qualities as a caterer to popular
entertainment, he is one of the most remarkable men of the age. As a
business man, of far-reaching vision and singular executive force, he
has for years been the life of Bridgeport, near which city he has long
resided, and last winter he achieved high rank in the Legislature of
Connecticut, as both an effective speaker and a patriot, having "no axe
to grind," and seeking only the public welfare. We, indeed, agree with
the editor of _The New York Independent_, who, in an article drawn out
by the burning of the American Museum, says: "Mr. Barnum's rare talent
as a speaker has always been exercised in behalf of good morals, and for
patriotic objects. No man has done better service in the temperance
cause by public lectures during the past ten years, both in America and
Great Britain, and during the war he was most efficient in stimulating
the spirit which resulted in the preservation of the Union, and the
destruction of Slavery."
We cannot forbear quoting two or three additional paragraphs from that
article, especially as they are so strongly expressive of the merits of
the case:
"Mr. Barnum's whole career has been a very transparent one. He has never
befooled the public to its injury, and, though his name has come to be
looked upon as a synonym for humbuggery, there never was a public man
who was less of one.
"The hearty good wishes of many good men, and the sympathies of the
community in which he has lived, go with him, and the public he has so
long amused, but never abused, will be ready to sustain him whenever he
makes another appeal to them. Mr. Barnum is a very good sort of
representative Yankee. When crowds of English traders and manufacturers
in Liverpool, Manchester, and London, flocked to hear his lectures on
the art of making money, they expected to hear from him some very smart
recipes for knavery; but they were as much astonished as they were
edified to learn that the only secret he had to tell them was to be
honest, and not to expect something for nothing."
We could fill many pages with quotations of corresponding tenor from the
leading and most influential men and journals in the land, but we will
close this publisher's note with the following from the _N. Y. Sun_.
"One of the happiest impromptu oratorical efforts that we have heard for
some time was that made by Barnum at the benefit performance given for
his employes on Friday afternoon. If a stranger wanted to satisfy
himself how the great showman had managed so to monopolize the ear and
eye of the public during his long career he could not have had a better
opportunity of doing so than by listening to this address. Every word,
though delivered with apparent carelessness, struck a key-note in the
hearts of his listeners. Simple, forcible, and touching, it showed how
thoroughly this extraordinary man comprehends the character of his
countrymen, and how easily he can play upon their feelings.
"Those who look upon Barnum as a mere charlatan, have really no
knowledge of him. It would be easy to demonstrate that the qualities
that have placed him in his present position of notoriety and affluence
would, in another pursuit, have raised him to far greater eminence. In
his breadth of views, his profound knowledge of mankind, his courage
under reverses, his indomitable perseverance, his ready eloquence, and
his admirable business tact, we recognise the elements that are
conducive to success in most other pursuits. More than almost any other
living man, Barnum may be said to be a representative type of the
American mind."
INTRODUCTION.
In the "Autobiography of P. T. Barnum," published in 1855, I partly
promised to write a book which should expose some of the chief humbugs
of the world. The invitation of my friends Messrs. Cauldwell and Whitney
of the "Weekly Mercury" caused me to furnish for that paper a series of
articles in which I very naturally took up the subject in question. This
book is a revision and re-arrangement of a portion of those articles. If
I should find that I have met a popular demand, I shall in due time put
forth a second volume. There is not the least danger of a dearth of
materials.
I once travelled through the Southern States in company with a magician.
The first day in each town, he astonished his auditors with his
deceptions. He then announced that on the following day he would show
how each trick was performed, and how every man might thus become his
own magician. That _expose_ spoiled the legerdemain market on that
particular route, for several years. So, if we could have a full
exposure of "the tricks of trade" of all sorts, of humbugs and deceivers
of past times, religious, political, financial, scientific, quackish and
so forth, we might perhaps look for a somewhat wiser generation to
follow us. I shall be well satisfied if I can do something towards so
good a purpose.
P. T. BARNUM.
CONTENTS.
I. PERSONAL REMINISCENCES.
CHAPTER I.--GENERAL VIEW OF THE SUBJECT.--HUMBUG UNIVERSAL.--IN
RELIGION.--IN POLITICS.--IN BUSINESS.--IN SCIENCE.--IN
MEDICINE.--HOW IT IS TO CEASE.--THE GREATEST HUMBUG OF ALL. 11
CHAPTER II.--DEFINITION OF THE WORD HUMBUG.--WARREN OF LONDON.--GENIN
THE HATTER.--GOSLING'S BLACKING. 18
CHAPTER III.--MONSIEUR MANGIN, THE FRENCH HUMBUG. 29
CHAPTER IV.--OLD GRIZZLY ADAMS. 37
CHAPTER V.--THE GOLDEN PIGEONS.--GRIZZLY ADAMS.--GERMAN
CHEMIST.--HAPPY FAMILY.--FRENCH NATURALIST. 46
CHAPTER VI.--THE WHALE, THE ANGEL FISH, AND THE GOLDEN PIGEON. 53
CHAPTER VII.--PEASE'S HOARHOUND CANDY.--THE DORR REBELLION.--THE
PHILADELPHIA ALDERMAN. 57
CHAPTER VIII.--BRANDRETH'S PILLS.--MAGNIFICENT ADVERTISING.--POWER
OF IMAGINATION. 65
II. THE SPIRITUALISTS.
CHAPTER IX.--THE DAVENPORT BROTHERS, THEIR RISE AND PROGRESS.--
SPIRITUAL ROPE-TYING.--MUSIC PLAYING.--CABINET SECRETS.--"THEY
CHOOSE DARKNESS RATHER THAN LIGHT," ETC.--THE SPIRITUAL HAND.--HOW
THE THING IS DONE.--DR. W. F. VAN VLECK. 73
CHAPTER X.--THE SPIRIT-RAPPING AND MEDIUM HUMBUGS.--THEIR
ORIGIN.--HOW THE THING IS DONE.--$500 REWARD. 82
CHAPTER XI.--THE "BALLOT TEST."--THE OLD GENTLEMAN AND HIS
"DISEASED" RELATIVES.--A "HUNGRY SPIRIT."--"PALMING" A
BALLOT.--REVELATIONS ON STRIPS OF PAPER. 88
CHAPTER XII.--SPIRITUAL "LETTERS ON THE ARM."--HOW TO MAKE THEM
YOURSELF.--THE TAMBOURINE AND RING FEATS.--DEXTER'S DANCING
HATS.--PHOSPHORESCENT OIL.--SOME SPIRITUAL SLANG. 96
CHAPTER XIII.--DEMONSTRATIONS BY "SAMPSON" UNDER A TABLE.--A
MEDIUM WHO IS HAPPY WITH HER FEET.--EXPOSE OF ANOTHER OPERATOR IN
DARK CIRCLES. 102
CHAPTER XIV.--SPIRITUAL PHOTOGRAPHING.--COLORADO JEWETT AND THE
SPIRIT PHOTOGRAPHS OF GENERAL JACKSON, HENRY CLAY, DANIEL WEBSTER,
STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS, NAPOLEON BONAPARTE, ETC.--A LADY OF DISTINCTION
SEEKS AND FINDS A SPIRITUAL PHOTOGRAPH OF HER DECEASED INFANT, AND
HER DEAD BROTHER WHO WAS YET ALIVE.--HOW IT WAS DONE. 109
CHAPTER XV.--BANNER OF LIGHT.--MESSAGES FROM THE DEAD.--SPIRITUAL
CIVILITIES.--SPIRIT "HOLLERING."--HANS VON VLEET, THE FEMALE
DUTCHMAN.--MRS. CONANT'S "CIRCLES."--PAINE'S TABLE-TIPPING HUMBUG
EXPOSED. 119
CHAPTER XVI.--SPIRITUALIST HUMBUGS WAKING UP.--FOSTER HEARD
FROM.--S. B. BRITTAIN HEARD FROM.--THE BOSTON ARTISTS AND THEIR
SPIRITUAL PORTRAITS.--THE WASHINGTON MEDIUM AND HIS SPIRITUAL
HANDS.--THE DAVENPORT BROTHERS AND THE SEA-CAPTAIN'S
WHEAT-FLOUR.--THE DAVENPORT BROTHERS ROUGHLY SHOWN UP BY JOHN
BULL.--HOW A SHINGLE "STUMPED" THE SPIRITS. 130
CHAPTER XVII.--THE DAVENPORT BROTHERS SHOWN UP ONCE MORE.--THE
SPIRITUALIST BOGUS BABY.--A LADY BRINGS FORTH A MOTIVE
FORCE.--"GUM" ARABIC.--SPIRITUALIST HEBREW.--THE ALLEN BOY.--DR.
RANDALL.--PORTLAND EVENING COURIER.--THE FOOLS NOT ALL DEAD YET. 145
III. TRADE AND BUSINESS IMPOSITIONS.
CHAPTER XVIII.--ADULTERATIONS OF FOOD.--ADULTERATIONS OF LIQUOR.--THE
COLONEL'S WHISKEY.--THE HUMBUGOMETER. 152
CHAPTER XIX.--ADULTERATIONS IN DRINKS.--RIDING HOME ON YOUR
WINE-BARREL.--LIST OF THINGS TO MAKE RUM.--THINGS TO COLOR IT
WITH.--CANAL-BOAT HASH.--ENGLISH ADULTERATION LAW.--EFFECT OF DRUGS
USED.--HOW TO USE THEM.--BUYING LIQUORS UNDER THE CUSTOM-HOUSE
LOCK.--HOMOEOPATHIC DOSE. 160
CHAPTER XX.--THE PETER FUNKS AND THEIR FUNCTIONS.--THE RURAL DIVINE
AND THE WATCH.--RISE AND PROGRESS OF MOCK AUCTIONS.--THEIR DECLINE
AND FALL. 167
CHAPTER XXI.--LOTTERY SHARKS.--BOULT AND HIS BROTHERS.--KENNETH,
KIMBALL & COMPANY.--A MORE CENTRAL LOCATION WANTED FOR
BUSINESS.--TWO SEVENTEENTHLIES.--STRANGE COINCIDENCE. 175
CHAPTER XXII.--ANOTHER LOTTERY HUMBUG.--TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY
RECIPES.--VILE BOOKS.--"ADVANTAGE-CARDS."--A PACKAGE FOR YOU;
PLEASE SEND THE MONEY.--PEDDLING IN WESTERN NEW YORK. 182
CHAPTER XXIII.--A CALIFORNIA COAL MINE.--A HARTFORD COAL
MINE.--MYSTERIOUS SUBTERRANEAN CANAL ON THE ISTHMUS. 189
IV. MONEY MANIAS.
CHAPTER XXIV.--THE PETROLEUM HUMBUG.--THE NEW YORK AND RANGOON
PETROLEUM COMPANY. 195
CHAPTER XXV.--THE TULIPOMANIA. 204
CHAPTER XXVI.--JOHN BULL'S GREAT MONEY HUMBUG.--THE SOUTH SEA
BUBBLE IN 1720. 213
CHAPTER XXVII.--BUSINESS HUMBUGS.--JOHN LAW.--THE MISSISSIPPI
SCHEME.--JOHNNY CRAPAUD AS GREEDY AS JOHNNY BULL. 221
V. MEDICINE AND QUACKS.
CHAPTER XXVIII.--DOCTORS AND IMAGINATION.--FIRING A JOKE OUT OF A
CANNON.--THE PARIS EYE WATER.--MAJENDIE ON MEDICAL KNOWLEDGE.--OLD
SANDS OF LIFE. 232
CHAPTER XXIX.--THE CONSUMPTIVE REMEDY.--E. ANDREWS, M. D.--BORN
WITHOUT BIRTHRIGHTS.--HASHEESH CANDY.--ROBACK THE GREAT.--A CONJUROR
OPPOSED TO LYING. 237
CHAPTER XXX.--MONSIGNORE CRISTOFORO RISCHIO; OR IL CRESO, THE
NOSTRUM-VENDER OF FLORENCE.--A MODEL FOR OUR QUACK DOCTORS. 242
VI. HOAXES.
CHAPTER XXXI.--THE TWENTY-SEVENTH STREET GHOST.--SPIRITS ON THE
RAMPAGE. 251
CHAPTER XXXII.--THE MOON HOAX. 259
CHAPTER XXXIII.--THE MISCEGENATION HOAX.--A GREAT LITERARY
SELL.--POLITICAL HUMBUGGING.--TRICKS OF THE WIRE-PULLERS.--MACHINERY
EMPLOYED TO RENDER THE PAMPHLET NOTORIOUS.--WHO WERE SOLD AND HOW
IT WAS DONE. 273
VII. GHOSTS AND WITCHCRAFTS.
CHAPTER XXXIV.--HAUNTED HOUSES.--A NIGHT SPENT ALONE WITH A
GHOST.--KIRBY THE ACTOR.--COLT'S PISTOLS VERSUS HOBGOBLINS.--THE
MYSTERY EXPLAINED. 284
CHAPTER XXXV.--HAUNTED HOUSES.--GHOSTS.--GHOULS.--PHANTOMS.--
VAMPIRES.--CONJURORS.--DIVINING--GOBLINS.--FORTUNE-TELLING.--
MAGIC.--WITCHES.--SORCERY.--OBI.--DREAMS.--SIGNS.--SPIRITUAL
MEDIUMS.--FALSE PROPHETS.--DEMONOLOGY.--DEVILTRY GENERALLY. 293
CHAPTER XXXVI.--MAGICAL HUMBUGS.--VIRGIL.--A PICKLED SORCERER.--
CORNELIUS AGRIPPA, HIS STUDENTS AND HIS BLACK DOG.--DOCTOR
FAUSTUS.--HUMBUGGING HORSE-JOCKEYS.--ZIITO AND HIS LARGE
SWALLOW.--DEVIL TAKE THE HINDERMOST. 300
CHAPTER XXXVII.--WITCHCRAFT.--NEW YORK WITCHES.--THE WITCH
MANIA.--HOW FAST THEY BURNED THEM.--THE MODE OF TRIAL.--WITCHES
TO-DAY IN EUROPE. 308
CHAPTER XXXVIII.--CHARMS AND INCANTATIONS.--HOW CATO CURED
SPRAINS.--THE SECRET NAME OF GOD.--SECRET NAMES OF CITIES.--ABRACADABRA
CURES FOR CRAMP.--MR. WRIGHT'S SIGIL.--WHISKERIFUSTICUS.--WITCHES'
HORSES.--THEIR CURSES.--HOW TO RAISE THE DEVIL. 314
VIII. ADVENTURERS.
CHAPTER XXXIX.--THE PRINCESS CARIBOO. 323
CHAPTER XL.--COUNT CAGLIOSTRO, ALIAS JOSEPH BALSAMO, KNOWN ALSO
AS "CURSED JOE." 330
CHAPTER XLI.--THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 338
CHAPTER XLII.--THE COUNT DE ST. GERMAIN, SAGE, PROPHET, AND
MAGICIAN. 354
CHAPTER XLIII.--RIZA BEY, THE PERSIAN ENVOY TO LOUIS XIV. 361
IX. RELIGIOUS HUMBUGS.
CHAPTER XLIV.--DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND.--MATTHIAS THE IMPOSTOR.--NEW
YORK FOLLIES THIRTY YEARS AGO. 370
CHAPTER XLV.--A RELIGIOUS HUMBUG ON JOHN BULL.--JOANNA
SOUTHCOTT.--THE SECOND SHILOH. 380
CHAPTER XLVI.--THE FIRST HUMBUG IN THE WORLD.--ADVANTAGES OF
STUDYING THE IMPOSITIONS OF FORMER AGES.--HEATHEN HUMBUGS.--THE
ANCIENT MYSTERIES.--THE CABIRI.--ELEUSIS.--ISIS. 386
CHAPTER XLVII.--HEATHEN HUMBUGS NO. 2.--HEATHEN STATED
SERVICES.--ORACLES.--SIBYLS.--AUGURIES. 392
CHAPTER XLVIII.--MODERN HEATHEN HUMBUGS. 401
CHAPTER XLIX.--ORDEALS. 408
CHAPTER L.--APOLLONIUS OF TYANA. 415
HUMBUGS OF THE WORLD.
I. PERSONAL REMINISCENCES.
CHAPTER I.
GENERAL VIEW OF THE SUBJECT.--HUMBUG UNIVERSAL.--IN RELIGION.--IN
POLITICS.--IN BUSINESS.--IN SCIENCE.--IN MEDICINE.--HOW IS IT TO
CEASE.--THE GREATEST HUMBUG OF ALL.
A little reflection will show that humbug is an astonishingly
wide-spread phenomenon--in fact almost universal. And this is true,
although we exclude crimes and arrant swindles from the definition of
it, according to the somewhat careful explanation which is given in the
beginning of the chapter succeeding this one.
I apprehend that there is no sort of object which men seek to attain,
whether secular, moral or religious, in which humbug is not very often
an instrumentality. Religion is and has ever been a chief chapter of
human life. False religions are the only ones known to two thirds of the
human race, even now, after nineteen centuries of Christianity; and
false religions are perhaps the most monstrous, complicated and
thorough-going specimens of humbug that can be found. And even within
the pale of Christianity, how unbroken has been the succession of
impostors, hypocrites and pretenders, male and female, of every
possible variety of age, sex, doctrine and discipline!
Politics and government are certainly among the most important of
practical human interests. Now it was a diplomatist--that is, a
practical manager of one kind of government matters--who invented that
wonderful phrase--a whole world full of humbug in half-a-dozen
words--that "Language was given to us to conceal our thoughts." It was
another diplomatist, who said "An ambassador is a gentleman sent to
_lie_ abroad for the good of his country." But need I explain to my own
beloved countrymen that there is humbug in politics? Does anybody go
into a political campaign without it? are no exaggerations of _our_
candidate's merits to be allowed? no depreciations of the _other_
candidate? Shall we no longer prove that the success of the party
opposed to us will overwhelm the land in ruin? Let me see. Leaving out
the two elections of General Washington, eighteen times that very fact
has been proved by the party that was beaten, and immediately we have
_not_ been ruined, notwithstanding that the dreadful fatal fellows on
the other side got their hands on the offices and their fingers into the
treasury.
Business is the ordinary means of living for nearly all of us. And in
what business is there not humbug? "There's cheating in all trades but
ours," is the prompt reply from the boot-maker with his brown paper
soles, the grocer with his floury sugar and chicoried coffee, the
butcher with his mysterious sausages and queer veal, the dry goods man
with his "damaged goods wet at the great fire" and his "selling at a
ruinous loss," the stock-broker with his brazen assurance that your
company is bankrupt and your stock not worth a cent (if he wants to buy
it,) the horse jockey with his black arts and spavined brutes, the
milkman with his tin aquaria, the land agent with his nice new maps and
beautiful descriptions of distant scenery, the newspaper man with his
"immense circulation," the publisher with his "Great American Novel,"
the city auctioneer with his "Pictures by the Old Masters"--all and
every one protest each his own innocence, and warn you against the
deceits of the rest. My inexperienced friend, take it for granted that
they all tell the truth--about each other! and then transact your
business to the best of your ability on your own judgment. Never fear
but that you will get experience enough, and that you will pay well for
it too; and towards the time when you shall no longer need earthly
goods, you will begin to know how to buy.
Literature is one of the most interesting and significant expressions of
humanity. Yet books are thickly peppered with humbug. "Travellers'
stories" have been the scoff of ages, from the "True Story" of witty old
Lucian the Syrian down to the gorillarities--if I may coin a word--of
the Frenchman Du Chaillu. Ireland's counterfeited Shakspeare plays,
Chatterton's forged manuscripts, George Psalmanazar's forged Formosan
language, Jo Smith's Mormon Bible, (it should be noted that this and the
Koran sounded two strings of humbug together--the literary and the
religious,) the more recent counterfeits of the notorious Greek
Simonides--such literary humbugs as these are equal in presumption and
in ingenuity too, to any of a merely business kind, though usually
destitute of that sort of impiety which makes the great religious
humbugs horrible as well as impudent.
Science is another important field of human effort. Science is the
pursuit of pure truth, and the systematizing of it. In such an
employment as that, one might reasonably hope to find all things done in
honesty and sincerity. Not at all, my ardent and inquiring friends,
there is a scientific humbug just as large as any other. We have all
heard of the Moon Hoax. Do none of you remember the Hydrarchos
Sillimannii, that awful Alabama snake? It was only a little while ago
that a grave account appeared in a newspaper of a whole new business of
compressing ice. Perpetual motion has been the dream of scientific
visionaries, and a pretended but cheating realization of it has been
exhibited by scamp after scamp. I understand that one is at this moment
being invented over in Jersey City. I have purchased more than one
"perpetual motion" myself. Many persons will remember Mr. Paine--"The
Great Shot-at" as he was called, from his story that people were
constantly trying to kill him--and his water-gas. There have been other
water gases too, which were each going to show us how to set the North
River on fire, but something or other has always broken down just at the
wrong moment. Nobody seems to reflect, when these water gases come up,
that if water could really be made to burn, the right conditions would
surely have happened at some one of the thousands of city fires, and
that the very stuff with which our stout firemen were extinguishing the
flames, would have itself caught and exterminated the whole brave wet
crowd!
Medicine is the means by which we poor feeble creatures try to keep from
dying or aching. In a world so full of pain it would seem as if people
could not be so foolish, or practitioners so knavish, as to sport with
men's and women's and children's lives by their professional humbugs.
Yet there are many grave M. D.'s who, if there is nobody to hear, and if
they speak their minds, will tell you plainly that the whole practice of
medicine is in one sense a humbug. One of its features is certainly a
humbug, though so innocent and even useful that it seems difficult to
think of any objection to it. This is the practice of giving a
_placebo_; that is, a bread pill or a dose of colored water, to keep the
patient's mind easy while imagination helps nature to perfect a cure. As
for the quacks, patent medicines and universal remedies, I need only
mention their names. Prince Hohenlohe, Valentine Greatrakes, John St.
John Long, Doctor Graham and his wonderful bed, Mesmer and his tub,
Perkins' metallic tractors--these are half a dozen. Modern history knows
of hundreds of such.
It would almost seem as if human delusions became more unreasoning and
abject in proportion as their subject is of greater importance. A
machine, a story, an animal skeleton, are not so very important. But the
humbugs which have prevailed about that wondrous machine, the human
body, its ailments and its cures, about the unspeakable mystery of human
life, and still more about the far greater and more awful mysteries of
the life beyond the grave, and the endless happiness and misery believed
to exist there, the humbugs about these have been infinitely more
absurd, more shocking, more unreasonable, more inhuman, more
destructive.
I can only allude to whole sciences (falsely so called) which are
unmingled humbugs from beginning to end. Such was Alchemy, such was
Magic, such was and still is Astrology, and above all, Fortune-telling.
But there is a more thorough humbug than any of these enterprises or
systems. The greatest humbug of all is the man who believes--or pretends
to believe--that everything and everybody are humbugs. We sometimes meet
a person who professes that there is no virtue; that every man has his
price, and every woman hers; that any statement from anybody is just as
likely to be false as true, and that the only way to decide which, is to
consider whether truth or a lie was likely to have paid best in that
particular case. Religion he thinks one of the smartest business dodges
extant, a firstrate investment, and by all odds the most respectable
disguise that a lying or swindling business man can wear. Honor he
thinks is a sham. Honesty he considers a plausible word to flourish in
the eyes of the greener portion of our race, as you would hold out a
cabbage leaf to coax a donkey. What people want, he thinks, or says he
thinks, is something good to eat, something good to drink, fine clothes,
luxury, laziness, wealth. If you can imagine a hog's mind in a man's
body--sensual, greedy, selfish, cruel, cunning, sly, coarse, yet
stupid, short-sighted, unreasoning, unable to comprehend anything except
what concerns the flesh, you have your man. He thinks himself
philosophic and practical, a man of the world; he thinks to show
knowledge and wisdom, penetration, deep acquaintance with men and
things. Poor fellow! he has exposed his own nakedness. Instead of
showing that others are rotten inside, he has proved that he is. He
claims that it is not safe to believe others--it is perfectly safe to
disbelieve him. He claims that every man will get the better of you if
possible--let him alone! Selfishness, he says, is the universal
rule--leave nothing to depend on his generosity or honor; trust him just
as far as you can sling an elephant by the tail. A bad world, he sneers,
full of deceit and nastiness--it is his own foul breath that he smells;
only a thoroughly corrupt heart could suggest such vile thoughts. He
sees only what suits him, as a turkey-buzzard spies only carrion, though
amid the loveliest landscape. I pronounce him who thus virtually
slanders his father and dishonors his mother and defiles the sanctities
of home and the glory of patriotism and the merchant's honor and the
martyr's grave and the saint's crown--who does not even know that every
sham shows that there is a reality, and that hypocrisy is the homage
that vice pays to virtue--I pronounce him--no, I do not pronounce him a
humbug, the word does not apply to him. He is a fool.
Looked at on one side, the history of humbug is truly humiliating to
intellectual pride, yet the long silly story is less absurd during the
later ages of history, and grows less and less so in proportion to the
spread of real Christianity. This religion promotes good sense, actual
knowledge, contentment with what we cannot help, and the exclusive use
of intelligent means for increasing human happiness and decreasing human
sorrow. And whenever the time shall come when men are kind and just and
honest; when they only want what is fair and right, judge only on real
and true evidence, and take nothing for granted, then there will be no
place left for any humbugs, either harmless or hurtful.
CHAPTER II.
DEFINITION OF THE WORD HUMBUG.--WARREN OF LONDON.--GENIN, THE
HATTER.--GOSLING'S BLACKING.
Upon a careful consideration of my undertaking to give an account of the
"Humbugs of the World," I find myself somewhat puzzled in regard to the
true definition of that word. To be sure, Webster says that humbug, as a
noun, is an "imposition under fair pretences;" and as a verb, it is "to
deceive; to impose on." With all due deference to Doctor Webster, I
submit that, according to present usage, this is not the only, nor even
the generally accepted definition of that term.
We will suppose, for instance, that a man with "fair pretences" applies
to a wholesale merchant for credit on a large bill of goods. His "fair
pretences" comprehend an assertion that he is a moral and religious
man, a member of the church, a man of wealth, etc., etc. It turns out
that he is not worth a dollar, but is a base, lying wretch, an impostor
and a cheat. He is arrested and imprisoned "for obtaining property under
false pretences" or, as Webster says, "fair pretences." He is punished
for his villainy. The public do not call him a "humbug;" they very
properly term him a swindler.
A man, bearing the appearance of a gentleman in dress and manners,
purchases property from you, and with "fair pretences" obtains your
confidence. You find, when he has left, that he paid you with
counterfeit bank-notes, or a forged draft. This man is justly called a
"forger," or "counterfeiter;" and if arrested, he is punished as such;
but nobody thinks of calling him a "humbug."
A respectable-looking man sits by your side in an omnibus or rail-car.
He converses fluently, and is evidently a man of intelligence and
reading. He attracts your attention by his "fair pretences." Arriving at
your journey's end, you miss your watch and your pocket-book. Your
fellow passenger proves to be the thief. Everybody calls him a
"pickpocket," and not withstanding his "fair pretences," not a person in
the community calls him a "humbug."
Two actors appear as stars at two rival theatres. They are equally
talented, equally pleasing. One advertises himself simply as a
tragedian, under his proper name--the other boasts that he is a prince,
and wears decorations presented by all the potentates of the world,
including the "King of the Cannibal Islands." He is correctly set down
as a "humbug," while this term is never applied to the other actor. But
if the man who boasts of having received a foreign title is a miserable
actor, and he gets up gift-enterprises and bogus entertainments, or
pretends to devote the proceeds of his tragic efforts to some charitable
object, without, in fact, doing so--he is then a humbug in Dr. Webster's
sense of that word, for he is an "impostor under fair pretences."
Two physicians reside in one of our fashionable avenues. They were both
educated in the best medical colleges; each has passed an examination,
received his diploma, and been dubbed an M. D. They are equally skilled
in the healing art. One rides quietly about the city in his gig or
brougham, visiting his patients without noise or clamor--the other
sallies out in his coach and four, preceded by a band of music, and his
carriage and horses are covered with handbills and placards, announcing
his "wonderful cures." This man is properly called a quack and a humbug.
Why? Not because he cheats or imposes upon the public, for he does not,
but because, as generally understood, "humbug" consists in putting on
glittering appearances--outside show--novel expedients, by which to
suddenly arrest public attention, and attract the public eye and ear.
Clergymen, lawyers, or physicians, who should resort to such methods of
attracting the public, would not, for obvious reasons, be apt to
succeed. Bankers, insurance-agents, and others, who aspire to become
the custodians of the money of their fellow-men, would require a
different species of advertising from this; but there are various trades
and occupations which need only notoriety to insure success, always
provided that when customers are once attracted, they never fail to get
their money's worth. An honest man who thus arrests public attention
will be called a "humbug," but he is not a swindler or an impostor. If,
however, after attracting crowds of customers by his unique displays, a
man foolishly fails to give them a full equivalent for their money, they
never patronize him a second time, but they very properly denounce him
as a swindler, a cheat, an impostor; they do not, however, call him a
"humbug." He fails, not because he advertises his wares in an _outre_
manner, but because, after attracting crowds of patrons, he stupidly and
wickedly cheats them.
When the great blacking-maker of London dispatched his agent to Egypt to
write on the pyramids of Ghiza, in huge letters, "Buy Warren's Blacking,
30 Strand, London," he was not "cheating" travelers upon the Nile. His
blacking was really a superior article, and well worth the price charged
for it, but he was "humbugging" the public by this queer way of
arresting attention. It turned out just as he anticipated, that English
travelers in that part of Egypt were indignant at this desecration, and
they wrote back to the London Times (every Englishman writes or
threatens to "write to the Times," if anything goes wrong,) denouncing
the "Goth" who had thus disfigured these ancient pyramids by writing on
them in monstrous letters: "Buy Warren's Blacking, 30 Strand, London."
The Times published these letters, and backed them up by several of
those awful, grand and dictatorial editorials peculiar to the great
"Thunderer," in which the blacking-maker, "Warren, 30 Strand," was
stigmatized as a man who had no respect for the ancient patriarchs, and
it was hinted that he would probably not hesitate to sell his blacking
on the sarcophagus of Pharaoh, "or any other"--mummy, if he could only
make money by it. In fact, to cap the climax, Warren was denounced as a
"humbug." These indignant articles were copied into all the Provincial
journals, and very soon, in this manner, the columns of every newspaper
in Great Britain were teeming with this advice: "Try Warren's Blacking,
30 Strand, London." The curiosity of the public was thus aroused, and
they did "try" it, and finding it a superior article, they continued to
purchase it and recommend it to their friends, and Warren made a fortune
by it. He always attributed his success to his having "humbugged" the
public by this unique method of advertising his blacking in Egypt! But
Warren did not cheat his customers, nor practice "an imposition under
fair pretences." He was a humbug, but he was an honest upright man, and
no one called him an impostor or a cheat.
When the tickets for Jenny Lind's first concert in America were sold at
auction, several business-men, aspiring to notoriety, "bid high" for the
first ticket. It was finally knocked down to "Genin, the hatter," for
$225. The journals in Portland (Maine) and Houston (Texas,) and all
other journals throughout the United States, between these two cities,
which were connected with the telegraph, announced the fact in their
columns the next morning. Probably two millions of readers read the
announcement, and asked, "Who is Genin, the hatter?" Genin became famous
in a day. Every man involuntarily examined his hat, to see if it was
made by Genin; and an Iowa editor declared that one of his neighbors
discovered the name of Genin in his old hat and immediately announced
the fact to his neighbors in front of the Post Office. It was suggested
that the old hat should be sold at auction. It was done then and there,
and the Genin hat sold for fourteen dollars! Gentlemen from city and
country rushed to Genin's store to buy their hats, many of them willing
to pay even an extra dollar, if necessary, provided they could get a
glimpse of Genin himself. This singular freak put thousands of dollars
into the pocket of "Genin, the hatter," and yet I never heard it charged
that he made poor hats, or that he would be guilty of an "imposition
under fair pretences." On the contrary, he is a gentleman of probity,
and of the first respectability.
When the laying of the Atlantic Telegraph was nearly completed, I was in
Liverpool. I offered the company one thousand pounds sterling ($5,000)
for the privilege of sending the first twenty words over the cable to my
Museum in New York--not that there was any intrinsic merit in the words,
but that I fancied there was more than $5,000 worth of notoriety in the
operation. But Queen Victoria and "Old Buck" were ahead of me. Their
messages had the preference, and I was compelled to "take a back seat."
By thus illustrating what I believe the public will concede to be the
sense in which the word "humbug" is generally used and understood at the
present time, in this country as well as in England, I do not propose
that my letters on this subject shall be narrowed down to that
definition of the word. On the contrary, I expect to treat of various
fallacies, delusions, and deceptions in ancient and modern times, which,
according to Webster's definition, may be called "humbugs," inasmuch as
they were "impositions under fair pretences."
In writing of modern humbugs, however, I shall sometimes have occasion
to give the names of honest and respectable parties now living, and I
felt it but just that the public should fully comprehend my doctrine,
that a man may, by common usage, be termed a "humbug," without by any
means impeaching his integrity.
Speaking of "blacking-makers," reminds me that one of the first
sensationists in advertising whom I remember to have seen, was Mr.
Leonard Gosling, known as "Monsieur Gosling, the great French
blacking-maker." He appeared in New York in 1830. He flashed like a
meteor across the horizon; and before he had been in the city three
months, nearly everybody had heard of "Gosling's Blacking." I well
remember his magnificent "four in hand." A splendid team of blood bays,
with long black tails, was managed with such dexterity by Gosling
himself, who was a great "whip," that they almost seemed to fly. The
carriage was emblazoned with the words "Gosling's Blacking," in large
gold letters, and the whole turnout was so elaborately ornamented and
bedizened that everybody stopped and gazed with wondering admiration. A
bugle-player or a band of music always accompanied the great Gosling,
and, of course, helped to attract the public attention to his
establishment. At the turning of every street-corner your eyes rested
upon "Gosling's Blacking." From every show-window gilded placards
discoursed eloquently of the merits of "Gosling's Blacking." The
newspapers teemed with poems written in its praise, and showers of
pictorial handbills, illustrated almanacs, and tinseled souvenirs, all
lauding the virtues of "Gosling's Blacking," smothered you at every
point.
The celebrated originator of delineations, "Jim Crow Rice," made his
first appearance at Hamblin's Bowery Theatre at about this time. The
crowds which thronged there were so great that hundreds from the
audience were frequently admitted upon the stage. In one of his scenes,
Rice introduced a negro boot-blacking establishment. Gosling was too
"wide awake" to let such an opportunity pass unimproved, and Rice was
paid for singing an original black Gosling ditty, while a score of
placards bearing the inscription, "Use Gosling's Blacking," were
suspended at different points in this negro boot polishing hall.
Everybody tried "Gosling's Blacking;" and as it was a really good
article, his sales in city and country soon became immense; Gosling made
a fortune in seven years, and retired but, as with thousands before him,
it was "easy come easy go." He engaged in a lead-mining speculation, and
it was generally understood that his fortune was, in a great measure,
lost as rapidly as it was made.
Here let me digress, in order to observe that one of the most difficult
things in life is for men to bear discreetly sudden prosperity. Unless
considerable time and labor are devoted to earning money, it is not
appreciated by its possessor; and, having no practical knowledge of the
value of money, he generally gets rid of it with the same ease that
marked its accumulation. Mr. Astor gave the experience of thousands when
he said that he found more difficulty in earning and saving his first
thousand dollars than in accumulating all the subsequent millions which
finally made up his fortune. The very economy, perseverance, and
discipline which he was obliged to practice, as he gained his money
dollar by dollar, gave him a just appreciation of its value, and thus
led him into those habits of industry, prudence, temperance, and
untiring diligence so conducive and necessary to his future success.
Mr. Gosling, however, was not a man to be put down by a single financial
reverse. He opened a store in Canajoharie, N. Y., which was burned, and
on which there was no insurance. He came again to New York in 1839, and
established a restaurant, where, by devoting the services of himself and
several members of his family assiduously to the business, he soon
reveled in his former prosperity, and snapped his fingers in glee at
what unreflecting persons term "the freaks of Dame Fortune." He is still
living in New York, hale and hearty at the age of seventy. Although
called a "French" blacking-maker, Mr. Gosling is in reality a Dutchman,
having been born in the city of Amsterdam, Holland. He is the father of
twenty-four children, twelve of whom are still living, to cheer him in
his declining years, and to repay him in grateful attentions for the
valuable lessons of prudence, integrity, and industry through the
adoption of which they are honored as respectable and worthy members of
society.
I cannot however permit this chapter to close without recording a
protest in principle against that method of advertising of which
Warren's on the Pyramid is an instance. Not that it is a crime or even
an immorality in the usual sense of the words; but it is a violent
offence against good taste, and a selfish and inexcusable destruction of
other people's enjoyments. No man ought to advertise in the midst of
landscapes or scenery, in such a way as to destroy or injure their
beauty by introducing totally incongruous and relatively vulgar
associations. Too many transactions of the sort have been perpetrated in
our own country. The principle on which the thing is done is, to seek
out the most attractive spot possible--the wildest, the most lovely, and
there, in the most staring and brazen manner to paint up advertisements
of quack medicines, rum, or as the case may be, in letters of monstrous
size, in the most obtrusive colors, in such a prominent place, and in
such a lasting way as to destroy the beauty of the scene both thoroughly
and permanently.
Any man with a beautiful wife or daughter would probably feel
disagreeably, if he should find branded indelibly across her smooth
white forehead, or on her snowy shoulder in blue and red letters such a
phrase as this: "Try the Jigamaree Bitters!" Very much like this is the
sort of advertising I am speaking of. It is not likely that I shall be
charged with squeamishness on this question. I can readily enough see
the selfishness and vulgarity of this particular sort of advertising,
however.
It is outrageously selfish to destroy the pleasure of thousands, for the
sake of a chance of additional gain. And it is an atrocious piece of
vulgarity to flaunt the names of quack nostrums, and of the coarse
stimulants of sots, among the beautiful scenes of nature. The pleasure
of such places depends upon their freedom from the associations of every
day concerns and troubles and weaknesses. A lovely nook of forest
scenery, or a grand rock, like a beautiful woman, depends for much of
its attractiveness upon the attendant sense of freedom from whatever is
low; upon a sense of purity and of romance. And it is about as nauseous
to find "Bitters" or "Worm Syrup" daubed upon the landscape, as it would
be upon the lady's brow.
Since writing this I observe that two legislatures--those of New
Hampshire and New York--have passed laws to prevent this dirty
misdemeanor. It is greatly to their credit, and it is in good season.
For it is matter of wonder that some more colossal vulgarian has not
stuck up a sign a mile long on the Palisades. But it is matter of
thankfulness too. At the White Mountains, many grand and beautiful views
have been spoiled by these nostrum and bedbug souled fellows.
It is worth noticing that the chief haunts of the city of New York, the
Central Park, has thus far remained unviolated by the dirty hands of
these vulgar advertisers. Without knowing anything about it, I have no
doubt whatever that the commissioners have been approached often by
parties desiring the privilege of advertising within its limits. Among
the advertising fraternity it would be thought a gigantic opportunity to
be able to flaunt the name of some bug-poison, fly-killer,
bowel-rectifier, or disguised rum, along the walls of the Reservoir;
upon the delicate stone-work of the Terrace, or the graceful lines of
the Bow Bridge; to nail up a tin sign on every other tree, to stick one
up right in front of every seat; to keep a gang of young wretches
thrusting pamphlet or handbill into every person's palm that enters the
gate, to paint a vulgar sign across every gray rock; to cut quack words
in ditch-work in the smooth green turf of the mall or ball-ground. I
have no doubt that it is the peremptory decision and clear good taste of
the Commissioners alone, which have kept this last retreat of nature
within our crowded city from being long ago plastered and daubed with
placards, handbills, sign-boards and paint, from side to side and from
end to end, over turf, tree, rock, wall, bridge, archway, building and
all.
CHAPTER III.
MONSIEUR MANGIN, THE FRENCH HUMBUG.
One of the most original, unique, and successful humbugs of the present
day was the late Monsieur Mangin, the blacklead pencil maker of Paris.
Few persons who have visited the French capital within the last ten or
twelve years can have failed to have seen him, and once seen he was not
to be forgotten. While passing through the public streets, there was
nothing in his personal appearance to distinguish him from any ordinary
gentlemen. He drove a pair of bay horses, attached to an open carriage
with two seats, the back one always occupied by his valet. Sometimes he
would take up his stand in the Champs Elysees; at other times, near the
column in the Place Vendome; but usually he was seen in the afternoon in
the Place de la Bastille, or the Place de la Madeleine. On Sundays, his
favorite locality was the Place de la Bourse. Mangin was a well-formed,
stately-looking individual, with a most self-satisfied countenance,
which seemed to say: "I am master here; and all that my auditors have to
do is, to listen and obey." Arriving at his destined stopping-place, his
carriage halted. His servant handed him a case from which he took
several large portraits of himself, which he hung prominently upon the
sides of his carriage, and also placed in front of him a vase filled
with medals bearing his likeness on one side and a description of his
pencils on the other. He then leisurely commenced a change of costume.
His round hat was displaced by a magnificent burnished helmet, mounted
with rich plumes of various brilliant colors. His overcoat was laid
aside, and he donned in its stead a costly velvet tunic with gold
fringes. He then drew a pair of polished steel gauntlets upon his hands,
covered his breast with a brilliant cuirass, and placed a richly-mounted
sword at his side. His servant watched him closely, and upon receiving a
sign from his master, he too put on his official costume, which
consisted of a velvet robe and a helmet. The servant then struck up a
tune on the richly-toned organ which always formed a part of Mangin's
outfit. The grotesque appearance of these individuals, and the music,
soon drew together an admiring crowd.
Then the great charlatan stood upon his feet. His manner was calm,
dignified, imposing, indeed almost solemn, for his face was as serious
as that of the chief mourner at a funeral. His sharp, intelligent eye
scrutinized the throng which was pressing around his carriage, until it
rested apparently upon some particular individual, when he gave a start;
then, with a dark, angry expression, as if the sight was repulsive, he
abruptly dropped the visor of his helmet and thus covered his face from
the gaze of the anxious crowd. This bit of coquetry produced the desired
effect in whetting the appetite of the multitude, who were impatiently
waiting to hear him speak. When he had carried this kind of by-play as
far as he thought the audience would bear it, he raised his hand, and
his servant understanding the sign, stopped the organ. Mangin then rang
a small bell, stepped forward to the front of the carriage, gave a
slight cough indicative of a preparation to speak, opened his mouth, but
instantly giving a more fearful start and assuming a more sudden frown
than before, he took his seat as if quite overcome by some unpleasant
object which his eyes had rested upon. Thus far he had not spoken a
word. At last the prelude ended, and the comedy commenced. Stepping
forward again to the front of his carriage where all the gaping crowd
could catch every word, he exclaimed:
"Gentlemen, you look astonished! You seem to wonder and ask yourselves
who is this modern Quixote. What mean this costume of by-gone
centuries--this golden chariot--these richly caparisoned steeds? What is
the name and purpose of this curious knight-errant? Gentlemen, I will
condescend to answer your queries. I am Monsieur Mangin, the great
charlatan of France! Yes, gentlemen, I am a charlatan--a mountebank; it
is my profession, not from choice, but from necessity. You, gentlemen,
created that necessity! You would not patronize true, unpretending,
honest merit, but you are attracted by my glittering casque, my sweeping
crest, my waving plumes. You are captivated by din and glitter, and
therein lies my strength. Years ago, I hired a modest shop in the Rue
Rivoli, but I could not sell pencils enough to pay my rent, whereas, by
assuming this disguise--it is nothing else--I have succeeded in
attracting general attention, and in selling literally millions of my
pencils; and I assure you there is at this moment scarcely an artist in
France or in Great Britain who don't know that I manufacture by far the
best blacklead pencils ever seen."
And this assertion was indeed true. His pencils were everywhere
acknowledged to be superior to any other.
While he was thus addressing his audience, he would take a blank card,
and with one of his pencils would pretend to be drawing the portrait of
some man standing near him; then showing his picture to the crowd, it
proved to be the head of a donkey, which, of course, produced roars of
laughter.
"There, do you see what wonderful pencils these are? Did you ever behold
a more striking likeness?"
A hearty laugh would be sure to follow, and then he would exclaim: "Now
who will have the first pencil--only five sous." One would buy, and then
another; a third and a fourth would follow; and with the delivery of
each pencil he would rattle off a string of witticisms which kept his
patrons in capital good-humor; and frequently he would sell from two
hundred to five hundred pencils in immediate succession. Then he would
drop down in his carriage for a few minutes and wipe the perspiration
from his face, while his servant played another overture on the organ.
This gave his purchasers a chance to withdraw, and afforded a good
opportunity for a fresh audience to congregate. Then would follow a
repetition of his previous sales, and in this way he would continue for
hours. To those disposed to have a _souvenir_ of the great humbug he
would sell six pencils, a medal and a photograph of himself for a franc
(twenty cents.) After taking a rest he would commence a new speech.
"When I was modestly dressed, like any of my hearers, I was half
starved. Punch and his bells would attract crowds, but my good pencils
attracted nobody. I imitated Punch and his bells, and now I have two
hundred depots in Paris. I dine at the best cafes, drink the best wine,
live on the best of everything, while my defamers get poor and lank, as
they deserve to be. Who are my defamers? Envious swindlers! Men who try
to ape me, but are too stupid and too dishonest to succeed. They
endeavor to attract notice as mountebanks, and then foist upon the
public worthless trash, and hope thus to succeed. Ah! defamers of mine,
you are fools as well as knaves. Fools, to think that any man can
succeed by systematically and persistently cheating the public. Knaves,
for desiring the public's money without giving them an equivalent. I am
an honest man. I have no bad habits; and I now declare, if any trader,
inventor, manufacturer, or philanthropist will show me better pencils
than mine, I will give him 1,000f.--no, not to him, for I abhor
betting--but to the poor of the Thirty-first Arrondissement, where I
live."
Mangin's harangues were always accompanied by a peculiar play of feature
and of voice, and with unique and original gestures, which seemed to
excite and captivate his audience.
About seven years ago, I met him in one of the principal restaurants in
the Palais Royale. A mutual friend introduced me.
"Ah!" said he, "Monsieur Barnum, I am delighted to see you. I have read
your book with infinite satisfaction. It has been published here in
numerous editions. I see you have the right idea of things. Your motto
is a good one--'we study to please.' I have much wanted to visit
America; but I cannot speak English, so I must remain in my dear belle
France."
I remarked that I had often seen him in public, and bought his pencils.
"Aha! you never saw better pencils. You know I could never maintain my
reputation if I sold poor pencils. But _sacre bleu_, my miserable
would-be imitators do not know our grand secret. First, attract the
public by din and tinsel, by brilliant sky-rockets and Bengola lights,
then give them as much as possible for their money."
"You are very happy," I replied, "in your manner of attracting the
public. Your costume is elegant, your chariot is superb, and your valet
and music are sure to draw."
"Thank you for your compliment, Mr. B., but I have not forgotten your
Buffalo-hunt, your Mermaid, nor your Woolly Horse. They were a good
offset to my rich helmet and sword, my burnished gauntlets and gaudy
cuirass. Both are intended as advertisements of something genuine, and
both answer the purpose."
After comparing notes in this way for an hour, we parted, and his last
words were:
"Mr. B., I have got a grand humbug in my head, which I shall put in
practice within a year, and it shall double the sale of my pencils.
Don't ask me what it is, but within one year you shall see it for
yourself, and you shall acknowledge Monsieur Mangin knows something of
human nature. My idea is magnifique, but it is one grand secret."
I confess my curiosity was somewhat excited, and I hoped that Monsieur
Mangin would "add another wrinkle to my horns." But, poor fellow! within
four months after I bade him adieu, the Paris newspapers announced his
sudden death. They added that he had left two hundred thousand francs,
which he had given in his will to charitable objects. The announcement
was copied into nearly all the papers on the Continent and in Great
Britain, for almost everybody had seen or heard of the eccentric pencil
maker.
His death caused many an honest sigh, and his absence seemed to cast a
gloom over several of his favorite halting-places. The Parisians really
loved him, and were proud of his genius.
"Well," people in Paris would remark, "Mangin was a clever fellow. He
was shrewd, and possessed a thorough knowledge of the world. He was a
gentleman and a man of intelligence, extremely agreeable and witty. His
habits were good; he was charitable. He never cheated anybody. He always
sold a good article, and no person who purchased from him had cause to
complain."
I confess I felt somewhat chagrined that the Monsieur had thus suddenly
taken "French leave" without imparting to me the "grand secret" by which
he was to double the sales of his pencils. But I had not long to mourn
on that account; for after Monsieur Mangin had been for six months--as
they say of John Brown--"mouldering in his grave" judge of the
astonishment and delight of all Paris at his reappearance in his native
city in precisely the same costume and carriage as formerly, and
heralded by the same servant and organ that had always attended him. It
now turned out that Monsieur Mangin had lived in the most rigid
seclusion for half a year, and that the extensively-circulated
announcements of his sudden death had been made by himself, merely as
an "advertising dodge" to bring him still more into notice, and give the
public something to talk about. I met Mangin in Paris soon after this
event.
"Aha, Monsieur Barnum!" he exclaimed, "did I not tell you I had a new
humbug that would double the sales of my pencils? I assure you my sales
are more than quadrupled, and it is sometimes impossible to have them
manufactured fast enough to supply the demand. You Yankees are very
clever, but by gar, none of you have discovered you should live all the
better if you would die for six months. It took Mangin to teach you
that."
The patronizing air with which he made this speech, slapping me at the
same time familiarly upon the back, showed him in his true character of
egotist. Although good-natured and social to a degree, he was really one
of the most self-conceited men I ever met.
Monsieur Mangin died the present year, and it is said that his heirs
received more than half a million of francs as the fruit of his
eccentric labors.
CHAPTER IV.
OLD GRIZZLY ADAMS.[37-*]
James C. Adams, or "Grizzly Adams," as he was generally termed, from the
fact of his having captured so many grizzly bears, and encountered such
fearful perils by his unexampled daring, was an extraordinary character.
For many years a hunter and trapper in the Rocky and Sierra Nevada
Mountains, he acquired a recklessness which, added to his natural
invincible courage, rendered him truly one of the most striking men of
the age. He was emphatically what the English call a man of "pluck." In
1860, he arrived in New York with his famous collection of California
animals, captured by himself, consisting of twenty or thirty immense
grizzly bears, at the head of which stood "Old Sampson"--now in the
American Museum--wolves, half a dozen other species of bear, California
lions, tigers, buffalo, elk, etc., and Old Neptune, the great sea-lion,
from the Pacific.
Old Adams had trained all these monsters so that with him they were as
docile as kittens, while many of the most ferocious among them would
attack a stranger without hesitation, if he came within their grasp. In
fact, the training of these animals was no fool's play, as Old Adams
learned to his cost; for the terrific blows which he received from time
to time, while teaching them "docility," finally cost him his life.
When Adams and his other wild beasts (for he was nearly as wild as any
of them) arrived in New York, he called immediately at the Museum. He
was dressed in his hunter's suit of buckskin, trimmed with the skins and
bordered with the hanging tails of small Rocky Mountain animals; his cap
consisting of the skin of a wolf's head and shoulders, from which
depended several tails as natural as life, and under which appeared his
stiff bushy gray hair and his long white grizzly beard. In fact, Old
Adams was quite as much of a show as his bears. They had come around
Cape Horn on the clipper-ship Golden Fleece, and a sea-voyage of three
and a half months had probably not added much to the beauty or neat
appearance of the old bear-hunter.
During our conversation, Grizzly Adams took off his cap, and showed me
the top of his head. His skull was literally broken in. It had on
various occasions been struck by the fearful paws of his grizzly
students; and the last blow, from the bear called "General Fremont," had
laid open his brain, so that its workings were plainly visible. I
remarked that I thought that was a dangerous wound, and might possibly
prove fatal.
"Yes," replied Adams, "that will fix me out. It had nearly healed; but
old Fremont opened it for me, for the third or fourth time, before I
left California, and he did his business so thoroughly, I'm a used-up
man. However, I reckon I may live six months or a year yet."
This was spoken as coolly as if he had been talking about the life of a
dog.
The immediate object of "Old Adams" in calling upon me was this. I had
purchased one-half interest in his California menagerie from a man who
had come by way of the Isthmus from California, and who claimed to own
an equal interest with Adams in the show. Adams declared that the man
had only advanced him some money, and did not possess the right to sell
half of the concern. However, the man held a bill of sale for one-half
of the "California Menagerie," and Old Adams finally consented to
accept me as an equal partner in the speculation, saying that he guessed
I could do the managing part, and he would show up the animals. I
obtained a canvas tent, and erecting it on the present site of Wallack's
Theatre, Adams there opened his novel California Menagerie. On the
morning of opening, a band of music preceded a procession of
animal-cages, down Broadway and up the Bowery; Old Adams dressed in his
hunting costume, heading the line, with a platform-wagon on which were
placed three immense grizzly bears, two of which he held by chains,
while he was mounted on the back of the largest grizzly, which stood in
the centre, and was not secured in any manner whatever. This was the
bear known as "General Fremont;" and so docile had he become that Adams
said he had used him as a packbear to carry his cooking and hunting
apparatus through the mountains for six months, and had ridden him
hundreds of miles. But apparently docile as were many of these animals,
there was not one among them that would not occasionally give even Adams
a sly blow or a sly bite when a good chance offered; hence Old Adams was
but a wreck of his former self, and expressed pretty nearly the truth
when he said:
"Mr. Barnum, I am not the man I was five years ago. Then I felt able to
stand the hug of any grizzly living, and was always glad to encounter,
single-handed, any sort of an animal that dared present himself. But I
have been beaten to a jelly, torn almost limb from limb, and nearly
chawed up and spit out by these treacherous grizzly bears. However, I am
good for a few months yet, and by that time I hope we shall gain enough
to make my old woman comfortable, for I have been absent from her some
years."
His wife came from Massachusetts to New York, and nursed him. Dr. Johns
dressed his wounds every day, and not only told Adams he could never
recover, but assured his friends that probably a very few weeks would
lay him in his grave.
But Adams was as firm as adamant and as resolute as a lion. Among the
thousands who saw him dressed in his grotesque hunter's suit, and
witnessed the apparent vigor with which he "performed" the savage
monsters, beating and whipping them into apparently the most perfect
docility, probably not one suspected that this rough, fierce-looking,
powerful demi-savage, as he appeared to be, was suffering intense pain
from his broken skull and fevered system, and that nothing kept him from
stretching himself on his deathbed but that most indomitable and
extraordinary will of his.
After the exhibition had been open six weeks, the Doctor insisted that
Adams should sell out his share in the animals and settle up all his
worldly affairs; for he assured him that he was growing weaker every
day, and his earthly existence must soon terminate.
"I shall live a good deal longer than you doctors think for," replied
Adams, doggedly; and then, seeming after all to realize the truth of the
Doctor's assertion, he turned to me and said: "Well, Mr. B., you must
buy me out." He named his price for his half of the "show," and I
accepted his offer. We had arranged to exhibit the bears in Connecticut
and Massachusetts during the summer, in connection with a circus, and
Adams insisted that I should hire him to travel for the summer, and
exhibit the bears in their curious performances. He offered to go for
$60 per week and traveling expenses of himself and wife.
I replied that I would gladly engage him as long as he could stand it,
but I advised him to give up business and go to his home in
Massachusetts; "for," I remarked, "you are growing weaker every day, and
at best cannot stand it more than a fortnight."
"What will you give me extra if I will travel and exhibit the bears
every day for ten weeks?" asked old Adams, eagerly.
"Five hundred dollars," I replied, with a laugh.
"Done!" exclaimed Adams. "I will do it; so draw up an agreement to that
effect at once. But mind you, draw it payable to my wife, for I may be
too weak to attend to business after the ten weeks are up, and if I
perform my part of the contract, I want her to get the $500 without any
trouble."
I drew up a contract to pay him $60 per week for his services, and if he
continued to exhibit the bears for ten consecutive weeks I was then to
hand him, or his wife $500 extra.
"You have lost your $500!" exclaimed Adams on taking the contract; "for
I am bound to live and earn it."
"I hope you may, with all my heart, and a hundred years more if you
desire it," I replied.
"Call me a fool if I don't earn the $500!" exclaimed Adams, with a
triumphant laugh.
The "show" started off in a few days, and at the end of a fortnight I
met it at Hartford, Connecticut.
"Well," says I, "Adams, you seem to stand it pretty well. I hope you and
your wife are comfortable?"
"Yes," he replied, with a laugh; "and you may as well try to be
comfortable too, for your $500 is a goner."
"All right," I replied; "I hope you will grow better every day."
But I saw by his pale face, and other indications, that he was rapidly
failing.
In three weeks more, I met him again at New Bedford, Mass. It seemed to
me, then, that he could not live a week, for his eyes were glassy and
his hands trembled, but his pluck was great as ever.
"This hot weather is pretty bad for me," he said, "but my ten weeks are
half expired, and I am good for your $500, and, probably, a month or two
longer."
This was said with as much bravado as if he was offering to bet upon a
horse-race. I offered to pay him half of the $500 if he would give up
and go home; but he peremptorily declined making any compromise
whatever.
I met him the ninth week in Boston. He had failed considerably since I
last saw him, but he still continued to exhibit the bears and chuckled
over his almost certain triumph. I laughed in return, and sincerely
congratulated him on his nerve and probable success. I remained with him
until the tenth week was finished, and handed him his $500. He took it
with a leer of satisfaction, and remarked, that he was sorry I was a
teetotaller, for he would like to stand treat!
Just before the menagerie left New York, I had paid $150 for a new
hunting-suit, made of beaver-skins similar to the one which Adams had
worn. This I intended for Herr Driesbach, the animal-tamer, who was
engaged by me to take the place of Adams whenever he should be compelled
to give up.
Adams, on starting from New York, asked me to loan this new dress to him
to perform in once in a while in a fair day when we had a large
audience, for his own costume was considerably soiled. I did so, and now
when I handed him his $500 he remarked:
"Mr. B., I suppose you are going to give me this new hunting-dress."
"Oh no," I replied. "I got that for your successor, who will exhibit the
bears to-morrow; besides, you have no possible use for it."
"Now, don't be mean, but _lend_ me the dress, if you won't _give_ it to
me, for I want to wear it home to my native village."
I could not refuse the poor old man anything, and I therefore replied:
"Well, Adams, I will lend you the dress; but you will send it back to
me."
"Yes, when I have done with it," he replied, with an evident chuckle of
triumph.
I thought to myself, he will soon be done with it, and replied:
"That's all right."
A new idea evidently seized him, for, with a brightening look of
satisfaction, he said:
"Now, Barnum, you have made a good thing out of the California
menagerie, and so have I; but you will make a heap more. So, if you
won't give me this new hunter's dress, just draw a little writing, and
sign it, saying that I may wear it until I have done with it."
Of course, I knew that in a few days at longest he would be "done" with
this world altogether, and, to gratify him, I cheerfully drew and signed
the paper.
"Come, old Yankee, I've got you this time--see if I hain't!" exclaimed
Adams, with a broad grin, as he took the paper.
I smiled, and said:
"All right, my dear fellow; the longer you live, the better I shall like
it."
We parted, and he went to Neponset, a small town near Boston, where his
wife and daughter lived. He took at once to his bed, and never rose from
it again. The excitement had passed away, and his vital energies could
accomplish no more.
The fifth day after arriving home, the physician told him he could not
live until the next morning. He received the announcement in perfect
calmness, and with the most apparent indifference; then, turning to his
wife, with a smile, he requested her to have him buried in the new
hunting suit.
"For," said he, "Barnum agreed to let me have it until I have done with
it, and I was determined to fix his flint this time. He shall never see
that dress again."
His wife assured him that his request should be complied with. He then
sent for the clergyman, and they spent several hours in communing
together.
Adams told the clergyman he had told some pretty big stories about his
bears, but he had always endeavored to do the straight thing between man
and man. "I have attended preaching every day, Sundays and all," said
he, "for the last six years. Sometimes an old grizzly gave me the
sermon, sometimes it was a panther; often it was the thunder and
lightning, the tempest, or the hurricane on the peaks of the Sierra
Nevada, or in the gorges of the Rocky Mountains; but whatever preached
to me, it always taught me the majesty of the Creator, and revealed to
me the undying and unchanging love of our kind Father in heaven.
Although I am a pretty rough customer," continued the dying man, "I
fancy my heart is in about the right place, and look with confidence to
the blessed Saviour for that rest which I so much need, and which I have
never enjoyed upon earth." He then desired the clergyman to pray with
him, after which he grasped him by the hand, thanked him for his
kindness, and bade him farewell.
In another hour his spirit had taken its flight; and it was said by
those present that his face lighted up into a smile as the last breath
escaped him, and that smile he carried into his grave. Almost his last
words were: "Won't Barnum open his eyes when he finds I have humbugged
him by being buried in his new hunting-dress?" That dress was indeed the
shroud in which he was entombed.
And that was the last on earth of "Old Grizzly Adams."
FOOTNOTES:
[37-*] Although the subject of the following sketch can hardly be
classed under the head of "Humbugs," he was an original genius, and a
knowledge of some of his prominent traits seems appropriate in
connection with one or two other passages of this book.
CHAPTER V.
THE GOLDEN PIGEONS.--GRIZZLY ADAMS.--GERMAN CHEMIST.--HAPPY
FAMILY.--FRENCH NATURALIST.
"Old Grizzly Adams" was quite candid when, in his last hours, he
confessed to the clergyman that he had "told some pretty large stories
about his bears." In fact, these "large stories" were Adam's "besetting
sin." To hear him talk, one would suppose that he had seen and handled
everything ever read or heard of. In fact, according to his story,
California contained specimens of all things, animate and inanimate, to
be found in any part of the globe. He talked glibly about California
lions, California tigers, California leopards, California hyenas,
California camels, and California hippopotami. He furthermore declared
he had, on one occasion, seen a California elephant, "at a great
distance," but it was "very shy," and he would not permit himself to
doubt that California giraffes existed somewhere in the neighborhood of
the "tall trees."
I was anxious to get a chance of exposing to Adams his weak point, and
of showing him the absurdity of telling such ridiculous stories. A fit
occasion soon presented itself. One day, while engaged in my office at
the Museum, a man with marked Teutonic features and accent approached
the door and asked if I would like to buy a pair of living golden
pigeons.
"Yes," I replied, "I would like a _flock_ of 'golden pigeons,' if I
could buy them for their weight in _silver_; for there are no '_golden_'
pigeons in existence, unless they are made from the pure metal."
"You shall see some golden pigeons alive," he replied, at the same time
entering my office and closing the door after him. He then removed the
lid from a small basket which he carried in his hand, and sure enough
there were snugly ensconced a pair of beautiful living ruff-necked
pigeons, as yellow as saffron and as bright as a double eagle fresh from
the mint.
I confess I was somewhat staggered at this sight, and quickly asked the
man where those birds came from.
A dull, lazy smile crawled over the sober face of my German visitor, as
he replied in a slow, guttural tone of voice:
"What you think yourself?"
Catching his meaning, I quickly answered:
"I think it is a humbug?"
"Of course, I know you will say so; because you 'forstha' such things
better as any man living, so I shall not try to humbug you. I have color
them myself."
On further inquiry, I learned that this German was a chemist, and that
he possessed the art of coloring birds any hue desired, and yet retain a
natural gloss on the feathers, which gave every shade the appearance of
reality.
"I can paint a green pigeon or a blue pigeon, a gray pigeon or a black
pigeon, a brown pigeon or a pigeon half blue and half green," said the
German; "and if you prefer it, I can paint them pink or purple, or give
you a little of each color, and make you a rainbow pigeon."
The "rainbow pigeon" did not strike me as particularly desirable; but,
thinking here was a good chance to catch "Grizzly Adams," I bought the
pair of golden pigeons for ten dollars, and sent them up to the "Happy
Family," marked "Golden Pigeons from California." Mr. Taylor the great
pacificator, who has charge of the Happy Family, soon came down in a
state of perspiration.
"Really, Mr. Barnum," said he, "I could not think of putting those
elegant golden pigeons into the Happy Family--they are too valuable a
bird--they might get injured--they are by far the most beautiful pigeons
I ever saw; and as they are so rare, I would not jeopardize their lives
for anything."
"Well," I replied, "you may put them in a separate cage, properly
labeled."
Monsieur Guillaudeu, the naturalist and taxidermist of the Museum, has
been attached to that establishment since the year it was founded, 1810.
He is a Frenchman, and has read everything upon Natural History that was
ever published in his own or in the English language. He is now
seventy-five years old, but is lively as a cricket, and takes as much
interest in Natural History as he ever did. When he saw the "golden
pigeons from California," he was considerably astonished! He examined
them with great delight for half an hour, expatiating upon their
beautiful color, and the near resemblance which every feature bore to
the American ruff-neck pigeon. He soon came to my office and said:
"Mr. B., these golden pigeons are superb, but they cannot be from
California. Audubon mentions no such bird in his work upon American
Ornithology."
I told him he had better take Audubon home with him that night, and
perhaps by studying him attentively he would see occasion to change his
mind.
The next day, the old naturalist called at my office and remarked:
"Mr. B., those pigeons are a more rare bird than you imagine. They are
not mentioned by Linnaeus, Cuvier, Goldsmith, or any other writer on
Natural History, so far as I have been able to discover. I expect they
must have come from some unexplored portion of Australia."
"Never mind," I replied, "we may get more light on the subject, perhaps,
before long. We will continue to label them 'California Pigeons' until
we can fix their nativity elsewhere."
The next, morning, "Old Grizzly Adams," whose exhibition of bears was
then open in Fourteenth street, happened to be passing through the
Museum, when his eyes fell on the "Golden California Pigeons." He looked
a moment and doubtless admired. He soon after came to my office.
"Mr. B," said he, "you must let me have those California pigeons."
"I can't spare them," I replied.
"But you _must_ spare them. All the birds and animals from California
ought to be together. You own half of my California menagerie, and you
must lend me those pigeons."
"Mr. Adams, they are too rare and valuable a bird to be hawked about in
that manner; besides, I expect they will attract considerable attention
here."
"Oh, don't be a fool," replied Adams. "Rare bird, indeed! Why, they are
just as common in California as any other pigeon! I could have brought a
hundred of them from San Francisco, if I had thought of it."
"But why did you not think of it?" I asked, with a suppressed smile.
"Because they are _so common_ there," said Adams. "I did not think they
would be any curiosity here. I have eaten them in pigeon-pies hundreds
of times, and shot them by the thousand!"
I was ready to burst with laughter to see how readily Adams swallowed
the bait, but maintaining the most rigid gravity, I replied:
"Oh well, Mr. Adams, if they are really so common in California, you had
probably better take them, and you may write over and have half a dozen
pairs sent to me for the Museum."
"All right," said Adams; "I will send over to a friend in San Francisco,
and you shall have them here in a couple of months."
I told Adams that, for certain reasons, I would prefer to change the
label so as to have it read: "Golden Pigeons from Australia."
"Well, call them what you like," replied Adams; "I suppose they are
probably about as plenty in Australia as they are in California."
I fancied I could discover a sly smile lurking in the eye of the old
bear-hunter as he made this reply.
The pigeons were labeled as I suggested, and this is how it happened
that the Bridgeport non-believing lady, mentioned in the next chapter,
was so much attracted as to solicit some of their eggs in order to
perpetuate the species in old Connecticut.
Six or eight weeks after this incident, I was in the California
Menagerie, and noticed that the "Golden Pigeons" had assumed a
frightfully mottled appearance. Their feathers had grown out, and they
were half white. Adams had been so busy with his bears that he had not
noticed the change. I called him up to the pigeon cage, and remarked:
"Mr. Adams, I fear you will lose your Golden Pigeons; they must be very
sick; I observe they are turning quite pale!"
Adams looked at them a moment with astonishment; then turning to me, and
seeing that I could not suppress a smile, he indignantly exclaimed:
"Blast the Golden Pigeons! You had better take them back to the Museum.
You can't humbug me with your painted pigeons!"
This was too much, and "I laughed till I cried" to witness the mixed
look of astonishment and vexation which marked the "grizzly" features of
old Adams.
"These Golden Pigeons," I remarked, "are very common in California, I
think I heard you say? When do you expect my half-dozen pairs will
arrive?"
"You go to thunder, you old humbug!" replied Adams, as he marched off
indignantly, and soon disappeared behind the cages of his grizzly
bears.
From that time, Adams seemed to be more careful about telling his large
stories. Perhaps he was not cured altogether of his habit, but he took
particular pains when making marvelous statements to have them of such a
nature that they could not be disproved so easily as was that regarding
the "Golden California Pigeons."
CHAPTER VI.
THE WHALE, THE ANGEL FISH, AND THE GOLDEN PIGEON.
If the fact could be definitely determined, I think it would be
discovered that in this "wide awake" country there are more persons
humbugged by believing too little than too much. Many persons have such
a horror of being taken in, or such an elevated opinion of their own
acuteness, that they believe everything to be a sham, and in this way
are continually humbugging themselves.
Several years since, I purchased a living white whale, captured near
Labrador, and succeeded in placing it, "in good condition," in a large
tank, fifty feet long, and supplied with salt water, in the basement of
the American Museum. I was obliged to light the basement with gas, and
that frightened the sea-monster to such an extent that he kept at the
bottom of the tank, except when he was compelled to stick his nose above
the surface in order to breathe or "blow," and then down he would go
again as quick as possible. Visitors would sometimes stand for half an
hour, watching in vain to get a look at the whale; for, although he
could remain under water only about two minutes at a time, he would
happen to appear in some unlooked for quarter of the huge tank, and
before they could all get a chance to see him, he would be out of sight
again. Some impatient and incredulous persons after waiting ten minutes,
which seemed to them an hour, would sometimes exclaim:
"Oh, humbug! I don't believe there is a whale here at all!"
This incredulity often put me out of patience, and I would say:
"Ladies and gentlemen, there is a living whale in the tank. He is
frightened by the gaslight and by visitors; but he is obliged to come to
the surface every two minutes, and if you will watch sharply, you will
see him. I am sorry we can't make him dance a hornpipe and do all sorts
of wonderful things at the word of command; but if you will exercise
your patience a few minutes longer, I assure you the whale will be seen
at considerably less trouble than it would be to go to Labrador
expressly for that purpose."
This would usually put my patrons in good humor; but I was myself often
vexed at the persistent stubbornness of the whale in not calmly floating
on the surface for the gratification of my visitors.
One day, a sharp Yankee lady and her daughter, from Connecticut, called
at the Museum. I knew them well; and in answer to their inquiry for the
locality of the whale, I directed them to the basement. Half an hour
afterward, they called at my office, and the acute mother, in a
half-confidential, serio-comic whisper, said:
"Mr. B., it's astonishing to what a number of purposes the ingenuity of
us Yankees has applied india-rubber."
I asked her meaning, and was soon informed that she was perfectly
convinced that it was an india-rubber whale, worked by steam and
machinery, by means of which he was made to rise to the surface at short
intervals, and puff with the regularity of a pair of bellows. From her
earnest, confident manner, I saw it would be useless to attempt to
disabuse her mind on the subject. I therefore very candidly acknowledged
that she was quite too sharp for me, and I must plead guilty to the
imposition; but I begged her not to expose me, for I assured her that
she was the only person who had discovered the trick.
It was worth more than a dollar to see with what a smile of satisfaction
she received the assurance that nobody else was as shrewd as herself;
and the patronizing manner in which she bade me be perfectly tranquil,
for the secret should be considered by her as "strictly confidential,"
was decidedly rich. She evidently received double her money's worth in
the happy reflection that she could not be humbugged, and that I was
terribly humiliated in being detected through her marvelous powers of
discrimination! I occasionally meet the good lady, and always try to
look a little sheepish, but she invariably assures me that she has never
divulged my secret and never will!
On another occasion, a lady equally shrewd, who lives neighbor to me in
Connecticut, after regarding for a few minutes the "Golden Angel Fish"
swimming in one of the Aquaria, abruptly addressed me with:
"You can't humbug me, Mr. Barnum; that fish is painted!"
"Nonsense!" said I, with a laugh; "the thing is impossible!"
"I don't care, I know it is painted; it is as plain as can be."
"But, my dear Mrs. H., paint would not adhere to a fish while in the
water; and if it would, it would kill him. Besides," I added, with an
extra serious air, "we never allow humbugging here!"
"Oh, here is just the place to look for such things," she replied with a
smile; "and I must say I more than half believe that Angel Fish is
painted."
She was finally nearly convinced of her error, and left. In the
afternoon of the same day, I met her in Old Adams' California Menagerie.
She knew that I was part-proprietor of that establishment, and seeing me
in conversation with "Grizzly Adams," she came up to me in some haste,
and with her eyes glistening with excitement, she said:
"O, Mr. B., I never saw anything so beautiful as those elegant 'Golden
Pigeons' from Australia. I want you to secure some of their eggs for me,
and let my pigeons hatch them at home. I should prize them beyond all
measure."
"Oh, you don't want 'Golden Australian Pigeons,'" I replied; "they are
painted."
"No, they are not painted," said she, with a laugh, "but I half think
the Angel Fish is."
I could not control myself at the curious coincidence, and I roared with
laughter while I replied:
"Now, Mrs. H., I never let a good joke be spoiled, even if it serves to
expose my own secrets. I assure you, upon honor, that the Golden
Australian Pigeons, as they are labeled, are really painted; and that in
their natural state they are nothing more nor less than the common
ruff-necked white American pigeons!"
And it was a fact. How they happened to be exhibited under that
auriferous disguise was owing to an amusing circumstance, explained in
another chapter.
Suffice it at present to say, that Mrs. H. to this day "blushes to her
eyebrows" whenever an allusion is made to "Angel Fish" or "Golden
Pigeons."
CHAPTER VII.
PEASE'S HOARHOUND CANDY.--THE DORR REBELLION.--THE PHILADELPHIA
ALDERMEN.
In the year 1842, a new style of advertising appeared in the newspapers
and in handbills which arrested public attention at once on account of
its novelty. The thing advertised was an article called "Pease's
Hoarhound Candy;" a very good specific for coughs and colds. It was put
up in twenty-five cent packages, and was eventually sold wholesale and
retail in enormous quantities. Mr. Pease's system of advertising was
one which, I believe, originated with him in this country, although
many have practiced it since, but of course, with less success--for
imitations seldom succeed. Mr. Pease's plan was to seize upon the most
prominent topic of interest and general conversation, and discourse
eloquently upon that topic in fifty to a hundred lines of a
newspaper-column, then glide off gradually into a panegyric of "Pease's
Hoarhound Candy." The consequence was, every reader was misled by the
caption and commencement of his article, and thousands of persons had
"Pease's Hoarhound Candy" in their mouths long before they had seen it!
In fact, it was next to impossible to take up a newspaper and attempt to
read the legitimate news of the day without stumbling upon a package of
"Pease's Hoarhound Candy." The reader would often feel vexed to find
that, after reading a quarter of a column of interesting news upon the
subject uppermost in his mind, he was trapped into the perusal of one of
Pease's hoarhound candy advertisements. Although inclined sometimes to
throw down the newspaper in disgust, he would generally laugh at the
talent displayed by Mr. Pease in thus captivating and capturing the
reader. The result of all this would generally be, a trial of the candy
on the first premonitory symptoms of a cough or influenza. The degree to
which this system of advertising has since been carried has rendered it
a bore and a nuisance. The usual result of almost any great and original
achievement is, the production of a shoal of brainless imitators, who
are "neither useful nor ornamental."
In the same year that Pease's hoarhound candy appeared upon the
commercial and newspaper horizon, the "Governor Dorr Rebellion" occurred
in Rhode Island. As many will remember, this rebellion caused a great
excitement throughout the country. Citizens of Rhode Island took up arms
against each other, and it was feared by some that a bloody civil war
would ensue.
At about this time a municipal election was to come off in the city of
Philadelphia. The two political parties were pretty equally divided
there, and there were some special causes why this was regarded as an
unusually important election. Its near approach caused more excitement
in the "Quaker City" than had been witnessed there since the preceding
Presidential election. The party-leaders began to lay their plans early,
and the wire-pullers on both sides were unusually busy in their
vocation. At the head of the rabble upon which one of the parties
depended for many votes, was a drunken and profane fellow, whom we will
call Tom Simmons. Tom was great at electioneering and stump-spouting in
bar-rooms and rum-caucuses, and his party always looked to him, at each
election, to stir up the subterraneans "with a long pole"--and a
whiskey-jug at the end of it.
The exciting election which was now to come off for Mayor and Aldermen
of the good city of Brotherly Love soon brought several of the "ring" to
Tom.
"Now, Tom," said the head wire-puller, "this is going to be a close
election, and we want you to spare neither talent nor liquor in arousing
up and bringing to the polls every voter within your influence."
"Well, Squire," replied Tom carelessly, "I've concluded I won't bother
myself with this 'lection--it don't pay!"
"Don't pay!" exclaimed the frightened politician. "Why, Tom, are you not
a true friend to your party? Haven't you always been on hand at the
primary meetings, knocked down interlopers, and squelched every man who
talked about conscience, or who refused to support regular nominations,
and vote the entire clean ticket straight through? And as for 'pay,'
haven't you always been supplied with money enough to treat all doubtful
voters, and in fact to float them up to the polls in an ocean of
whiskey? I confess Tom, I am almost petrified with astonishment at
witnessing your present indifference to the alarming crisis in which our
country and our party are involved, and which nothing on earth can
avert, except our success at the coming election."
"Oh, tell that to the marines," said Tom. "We never yet had an election
that there wasn't a 'crisis,' and yet, whichever party gained, we
somehow managed to live through it, crisis or no crisis. In fact, my
curiosity has got a little excited, and I would like to see this
'crisis' that is such a bugaboo at every election; so trot out your
crisis--let us see how it looks. Besides, talking of pay, I acknowledge
the whiskey, and that is all. While I and my companions lifted you and
your companions into fat offices that enabled you to roll in your
carriages, and live on the fat of the land, we got nothing--or, at
least, next to nothing--all we got was--well--we got drunk! Now, Squire,
I will go for the other party this 'lection if you don't give me an
office."
"Give you an office!" exclaimed the "Squire," raising his hands and
rolling his eyes in utter amazement; "why, Tom, what office do you
want?"
"I want to be Alderman!" replied Tom, "and I can control votes enough to
turn the 'lection either way; and if our party don't gratefully remember
my past services and give me my reward, t'other party will be glad to
run me on their ticket, and over I go."
The gentleman of the "ring" saw by Tom's firmness and clenched teeth
that he was immovable; that his principles, like those of too many
others, consisted of "loaves and fishes;" they therefore consented to
put Tom's name on the municipal ticket; and the worst part of the story
is, he was elected.
In a very short time, Tom was duly installed into the Aldermanic chair,
and, opening his office on a prominent corner, he was soon doing a
thriving business. He was generally occupied throughout the day in
sitting as a judge in cases of book debt and promissory notes which were
brought before him, for various small sums ranging from two to five,
six, eight, and ten dollars. He would frequently dispose of thirty or
forty of these cases in a day, and as imprisonment for debt was
permitted at that time, the poor defendants would "shin" around and make
any sacrifice almost, rather than go to jail. The enormous "costs" went
into the capacious pocket of the Alderman; and this dignitary, as a
natural sequence, "waxed fat" and saucy, exemplifying the truth of the
adage "Put a beggar on horseback," etc.
As the Alderman grew rich, he became overbearing, headstrong, and
dictatorial. He began to fancy that he monopolized the concentrated
wisdom of his party, and that his word should be law. Not a party-caucus
or a political meeting could be held without witnessing the vulgar and
profane harangues of the self-conceited Alderman, Tom Simmons. As he was
one of the "ring," his fingers were in all the "pickings and stealings;"
he kept his family-coach, and in his general swagger exhibited all the
peculiarities of "high life below stairs."
But after Tom had disgraced his office for two years, a State election
took place and the other party were successful. Among the first laws
which they passed after the convening of the Legislature, was one
declaring that from that date imprisonment for debt should not be
permitted in the State of Pennsylvania for any sum less than ten
dollars.
This enactment, of course, knocked away the chief prop which sustained
the Alderman, and when the news of its passage reached Philadelphia, Tom
was the most indignant man that had been seen there for some years.
Standing in front of his office the next morning, surrounded by several
of his political chums, Tom exclaimed:
"Do you see what them infernal tories have done down there at
Harrisburg? They have been and passed an outrageous, oppressive,
barbarous, and unconstitutional law! A pretty idea, indeed, if a man
can't put a debtor in jail for a less sum than ten dollars! How am I
going to support my family, I should like to know, if this law is
allowed to stand? I tell you, gentlemen, this law is unconstitutional,
and you will see blood running in our streets, if them tory scoundrels
try to carry it out!"
His friends laughed, for they saw that Tom was reasoning from his pocket
instead of his head; and, as he almost foamed at the mouth in his
impotent wrath they could not suppress a smile.
"Oh, you may laugh, gentlemen--you may laugh; but you will see it. Our
party will never disgrace itself a permitting the tories to rob them of
their rights by passing unconstitutional laws; and I say, the sooner we
come to blood, the better!"
At this moment, a gentleman stepped up, and addressing the Alderman,
said:
"Alderman, I want to bring a case of book debt before you this morning."
"How much is your claim?" asked Tom.
"Four dollars," replied the rumseller--for such he proved to be--and his
debt was for drinks chalked up against one of his "customers."
"You can't have your four dollars, Sir," replied the excited Alderman.
"You are robbed of your four dollars, Sir. Them legislative tories at
Harrisburg, Sir, have cheated you out of your four dollars, Sir. I
undertake to say, Sir, that fifty thousand honest men in Philadelphia
have been robbed of their four dollars by these bloody tories and their
cursed unconstitutional law! Ah, gentlemen, you will see blood running
in our streets before you are a month older. (A laugh.) Oh, you may
laugh; but you will see it--see if you don't!"
A newsboy was just passing by.
"Here, boy, give me the Morning Ledger," said the Alderman, at the same
time taking the paper and handing the boy a penny. "Let us see what them
blasted cowboys are doing down at Harrisburg now. Ah!--what is this?"
(Reading:) "'Blood, blood, blood!' Aha! laugh, will you, gentlemen? Here
it is." Reads:
"'Blood, blood, blood! The Dorrites have got possession of
Providence. The military are called out. Father is arrayed against
father, and son against son. Blood is already running in our
streets.'
"Now laugh, will you, gentlemen? Blood is running in the streets of
Providence; blood will be running in the streets of Philadelphia before
you are a fortnight older! The tories of Providence and the tories of
Harrisburg must answer for this blood, for they and their
unconstitutional proceedings are the cause of its flowing! Let us see
the rest of this tragic scene." Reads:
"'Is there any remedy for this dreadful state of things?'"
ALDERMAN.--"Of course not, except to hang every rascal of them for
trampling on our g-l-orious Constitution." Reads:
"'Is there any remedy for this dreadful state of things? Yes, there
is.'"
ALDERMAN.--"Oh, there is, is there? What is it? Let me see." Reads:
"'Buy two packages of Pease's hoarhound candy.'"
"Blast the infernal Ledger!" exclaimed the now doubly incensed and
indignant Alderman, throwing the paper upon the pavement with the most
ineffable disgust, amid the shouts and hurrahs of a score of men who by
this time had gathered around the excited Alderman Tom Simmons.
As I before remarked, the "candy" was a very good article for the
purposes for which it was made; and as Pease was an indefatigable man,
as well as a good advertiser, he soon acquired a fortune. Mr. Pease,
Junior, is now living in affluence in Brooklyn, and is bringing up a
"happy family" to enjoy the fruits of his industry, probity, good
habits, and genius.
The "humbug" in this transaction, of course consisted solely in the
manner of advertising. There was no humbug or deception about the
article manufactured.
CHAPTER VIII.
BRANDRETH'S PILLS.--MAGNIFICENT ADVERTISING.--POWER OF IMAGINATION.
In the year 1834, Dr. Benjamin Brandreth commenced advertising in the
city of New York, "Brandreth's Pills specially recommended to purify the
blood." His office consisted of a room about ten feet square, located in
what was then known as the Sun building, an edifice ten by forty feet,
situated at the corner of Spruce and Nassau streets, where the Tribune
is now published. His "factory" was at his residence in Hudson street.
He put up a large gilt sign over the Sun office, five or six feet wide
by the length of the building, which attracted much attention, as at
that time it was probably the largest sign in New York. Dr. Brandreth
had great faith in his pills, and I believe not without reason; for
multitudes of persons soon became convinced of the truth of his
assertions, that "all diseases arise from impurity or imperfect
circulation of the blood, and by purgation with Brandreth's Pills all
disease may be cured."
But great and reasonable as might have been the faith of Dr. Brandreth
in the efficacy of his pills, his faith in the potency of advertising
them was equally strong. Hence he commenced advertising largely in the
Sun newspaper--paying at least $5,000 to that paper alone, for his
first year's advertisements. That may not seem a large sum in these
days, when parties have been known to pay more than five thousand
dollar for a single day's advertising in the leading journals; but, at
the time Brandreth started, his was considered the most liberal
newspaper-advertising of the day.
Advertising is to a genuine article what manure is to land,--it largely
increases the product. Thousands of persons may be reading your
advertisement while you are eating, or sleeping, or attending to your
business; hence public attention is attracted, new customers come to
you, and, if you render them a satisfactory equivalent for their money,
they continue to patronize you and recommend you to their friends.
At the commencement of his career, Dr. Brandreth was indebted to Mr.
Moses Y. Beach, proprietor of the New York Sun, for encouragement and
means of advertising. But this very advertising soon caused his receipts
to be enormous. Although the pills were but twenty-five cents per box,
they were soon sold to such a great extent, that tons of huge cases
filled with the "purely vegetable pill" were sent from the new and
extensive manufactory every week. As his business increased, so in the
same ratio did he extend his advertising. The doctor engaged at one time
a literary gentleman to attend, under the supervision of himself, solely
to the advertising department. Column upon column of advertisements
appeared in the newspapers, in the shape of learned and scientific
pathological dissertations, the very reading of which would tempt a poor
mortal to rush for a box of Brandreth's Pills; so evident was it
(according to the advertisement) that nobody ever had or ever would have
"pure blood," until from one to a dozen boxes of the pills had been
taken as "purifiers." The ingenuity displayed in concocting these
advertisements was superb, and was probably hardly equaled by that
required to concoct the pills.
No pain, ache, twinge, or other sensation, good, bad, or indifferent,
ever experienced by a member of the human family, but was a most
irrefragable evidence of the impurity of the blood; and it would have
been blasphemy to have denied the "self-evident" theory, that "all
diseases arise from impurity or imperfect circulation of the blood, and
that by purgation with Brandreth's Pills all disease may be cured."
The doctor claims that his grandfather first manufactured the pills in
1751. I suppose this may be true; at all events, no _living_ man will be
apt to testify to the contrary. Here is an extract from one of Dr.
Brandreth's early advertisements, which will give an idea of his style:
"'What has been longest known has been most considered, and what
has been most considered is best understood.
"'The life of the flesh is in the blood.'--Lev. xxii, 2.
"Bleeding reduces the vital powers; Brandreth's Pills increase
them. So in sickness never be bled, especially in Dizziness and
Apoplexy, but always use Brandreth's Pills.
"The laws of life are written upon the face of Nature. The Tempest,
Whirlwind, and Thunder-storm bring health from the Solitudes of
God. The Tides are the daily agitators and purifiers of the Mighty
World of Waters.
"What these Providential means are as purifiers of the Atmosphere
or Air, Brandreth's Pills are to man."
This splendid system of advertising, and the almost reckless outlay
which was required to keep it up, challenged the admiration of the
business community. In the course of a few years, his office was
enlarged; and still being too small, he took the store 241 Broadway, and
also opened a branch at 187 Hudson street. The doctor continued to let
his advertising keep pace with his patronage; and he was finally, in the
year 1836, compelled to remove his manufactory to Sing Sing, where such
perfectly incredible quantities of Brandreth's Pills have been
manufactured and sold that it would hardly be safe to give the
statistics. Suffice it to say, that the only "humbug" which I suspect in
connection with the pills was, the very harmless and unobjectionable yet
novel method of advertising them; and as the doctor amassed a great
fortune by their manufacture, this very fact is _prima facie_ evidence
that the pill was a valuable purgative.
A funny incident occurred to me in connection with this great pill. In
the year 1836, while I was travelling through the States of Alabama,
Mississippi, and Louisiana, I became convinced by reading Doctor
Brandreth's advertisements that I needed his pills. Indeed, I there read
the proof that every symptom that I experienced, either in imagination
or in reality, rendered their extensive consumption absolutely necessary
to preserve my life. I purchased a box of Brandreth's Pills in Columbus,
Miss. The effect was miraculous! Of course, it was just what the
advertisement told me it would be. In Tuscaloosa, Alabama, I purchased
half a dozen boxes. They were all used up before my perambulating show
reached Vicksburg, Miss., and I was a confirmed disciple of the blood
theory. There I laid in a dozen boxes. In Natchez, I made a similar
purchase. In New Orleans, where I remained several months, I was a
profitable customer, and had become thoroughly convinced that the only
real "greenhorns" in the world were those who preferred meat or bread to
Brandreth's Pills. I took them morning, noon, and night. In fact, the
advertisements announced that one could not take too many; for if one
box was sufficient to purify the blood, eleven extra boxes would have no
injurious effect.
I arrived in New York in June 1838, and by that time I had become such a
firm believer in the efficacy of Brandreth's Pills, that I hardly
stopped long enough to speak with my family, before I hastened to the
"principal office" of Doctor Brandreth to congratulate him on being the
greatest public benefactor of the age.
I found the doctor "at home," and introduced myself without ceremony. I
told him my experiences. He was delighted. I next heartily indorsed
every word stated in his advertisements. He was not surprised, for he
knew the effects of his pills were such as I described. Still he was
elated in having another witness whose extensive experiments with his
pills were so eminently satisfactory. The doctor and myself were both
happy--he in being able to do so much good to mankind; I in being the
recipient of such untold benefits through his valuable discovery.
At last, the doctor chanced to say that he wondered how I happened to
get his pills in Natchez, "for," said he, "I have no agent there as
yet."
"Oh!" I replied, "I always bought my pills at the drug stores."
"Good Heavens!" exclaimed the doctor, "then they are were all
counterfeits! vile impositions! poisonous compounds! I never sell a pill
to a druggist--I never permit an apothecary to handle one of my pills.
But they counterfeit them by the bushel; the unprincipled, heartless,
murderous impostors!"
I need not say I was surprised. Was it possible, then, that my
imagination had done all this business, and that I had been cured by
poisons which I supposed were Brandreth's Pill? I confess I laughed
heartily; and told the doctor that, after all, it seemed the
counterfeits were as good as the real pills, provided the patient had
sufficient faith.
The doctor was puzzled as well as vexed, but an idea struck him that
soon enabled him to recover his usual equanimity.
"I'll tell you what it is," said he, "those Southern druggists have
undoubtedly obtained the pills from me under false pretences. They have
pretended to be planters, and have purchased pills from me in large
quantities for use on the plantations, and then they have retailed the
pills from their drug-shops."
I laughed at this shrewd suggestion, and remarked: "This may be so, but
I guess my imagination did the business!"
The doctor was uneasy, but he asked me as a favor to bring him one of
the empty pill boxes which I had brought from the South. The next day, I
complied with his request, and I will do the doctor justice to say that,
on comparison, it proved as he had suspected; the pills were genuine,
and although he had advertised that no druggist should sell them, they
were so popular that druggists found it necessary to get them "by hook
or by crook;" and the consequence was, I had the pleasure of a glorious
laugh, and Doctor Brandreth experienced "a great scare."
The doctor "made his pile" long ago, although he still devotes his
personal attention to the "entirely vegetable and innocent pills, whose
life-giving power no pen can describe."
In 1849, the doctor was elected President of the Village of Sing Sing,
N. Y. (where he still resides,) and was re-elected to the same office
for seven consecutive years. In the same year, he was elected to the New
York State Senate, and in 1859 was again elected.
Dr. Brandreth is a liberal man and a pleasant, entertaining, and
edifying companion. He deserves all the success he has ever received.
"Long may he wave!"
II. THE SPIRITUALISTS.
CHAPTER IX.
THE DAVENPORT BROTHERS, THEIR RISE AND PROGRESS.--SPIRITUAL
ROPE-TYING.--MUSIC PLAYING.--CABINET SECRETS.--"THEY CHOOSE DARKNESS
RATHER THAN LIGHT," ETC.--THE SPIRITUAL HAND.--HOW THE THING IS
DONE.--DR. W. F. VAN VLECK.
The Davenport Brothers are natives of Buffalo, N. Y., and in that city
commenced their career as "mediums" about twelve years ago. They were
then mere lads. For some time, their operations were confined to their
own place, where, having obtained considerable notoriety through the
press, they were visited by people from all parts of the country. But,
in 1855, they were induced by John F. Coles, a very worthy spiritualist
of New York City, to visit that metropolis, and there exhibit their
powers. Under the management of Mr. Coles, they held "circles" afternoon
and evening, for several days, in a small hall at 195 Bowery. The
audience were seated next the walls, the principal space being required
for the use of "the spirits." The "manifestations" mostly consisted in
the thrumming and seemingly rapid movement about the hall of several
stringed instruments, the room having been made entirely dark, while the
boys were supposed or asserted to be quietly seated at the table in the
centre. Two guitars, with sometimes a banjo, were the instruments used,
and the noise made by "the spirits" was about equal to the united
honking of a large flock of wild geese. The manifestations were stunning
as well as astonishing; for not only was the sense of hearing smitten by
the dreadful sounds, but, sometimes, a member of the circle would get a
"striking demonstration" over his head!
At the request of the "controlling spirit," made through a horn, the
hall was lighted at intervals during the entertainment, at which times
the mediums could be seen seated at the table, looking very innocent and
demure, as if they had never once thought of deceiving anybody. On one
of these occasions, however, a policeman suddenly lighted the hall by
means of a dark lantern, without having been specially called upon to do
so; and the boys were clearly seen with instruments in their hands. They
dropped them as soon as they could, and resumed their seats at the
table. Satisfied that the thing was a humbug, the audience left in
disgust; and the policeman was about to march the boys to the
station-house on the charge of swindling, when he was prevailed upon to
remain and farther test the matter. Left alone with them, and the three
seated together at the table on which the instruments had been placed,
he laid, at their request, a hand on each medium's head; they then
clasped both his arms with their hands. While they remained thus
situated (as he supposed,) the room being dark, one of the instruments,
with an infernal twanging of its strings, rose from the table and hit
the policeman several times on the head; then a strange voice through
the trumpet advised him not to interfere with the work of the spirits by
persecuting the mediums! Considerably astonished, if not positively
scared, he took his hat and left, fully persuaded that there was
"something in it!"
The boys produced the manifestations by grasping the neck of the
instrument, swinging it around, and thrusting it into different parts of
the open space of the room, at the same time vibrating the strings with
the fore-finger. The faster the finger passed over the strings, the more
rapidly the instrument seemed to move. Two hands could thus use as many
instruments.
When sitting with a person at the table, as they did with the policeman,
one hand could be taken off the investigator's arm without his knowing
it, by gently increasing, at the same time, the pressure of the other
hand. It was an easy matter then to raise and thrum the instrument or
talk through the horn.
About a dozen gentlemen--several of whom were members of the press--had
a private seance with the boys one afternoon, on which occasion "the
spirits" ventured upon an extra "manifestation." All took seats at one
side of a long, high table--the position of the mediums being midway of
the row. This time, a little, dim, ghostly gaslight was allowed in the
room. What seemed to be a hand soon appeared, partly above the edge of
the vacant side of the table, and opposite the "mediums." One excited
spiritualist present said he could see the finger-nails.
John F. Coles--who had for several days, suspected the innocence of the
boys--sprang from his seat, turned up the gaslight, and pounced on the
elder boy, who was found to have a nicely stuffed glove drawn partly on
to the toe of his boot. That, then, was the spirit-hand! The nails that
the imaginative spiritualist thought he saw were not on the fingers. The
boy alleged that the spirits made him attempt the deception.
The father of these boys, who had accompanied them to New York, took
them home immediately after that exposure. In Buffalo, they continued to
hold "circles," hoping to retrieve their lost reputation as good
mediums--by being, not more honest, but more cautious. To prevent any
one getting hold of them while operating, they hit upon the plan of
passing a rope through a button-hole of each gentleman's coat, the ends
to be held by a trusty person--assigning, as a reason for that
arrangement, that it would then be known no one in the circle could
assist in producing the manifestations. The plan did not always work
well, however; for a skeptic would sometimes cut the rope, and then
pounce upon "the spirit"--that is, if he didn't happen to miss that
individual, on account of the darkness and while trying to avoid a
collision with the instruments.
To secure greater immunity from detection, and to enable them to exhibit
in large halls which could not easily be darkened, the boys finally
fixed upon a "cabinet" as the best thing in which to work. They had,
some time before, made the "rope-test" a feature of their exhibitions;
and in their cabinet-show they depended for success in deceiving
entirely upon the presumption of the audience that their hands were so
secured with ropes as to prevent their playing upon the musical
instruments, or doing whatever else the spirits were assumed to do.
Their cabinet is about six feet high, six feet long, and two and a half
feet deep, the front consisting of three doors, opening outward. In each
end is a seat, with holes through which the ropes can be passed in
securing the mediums. In the upper part of the middle door is a
lozenge-shaped aperture, curtained on the inside with black muslin or
oilcloth. The bolts are on the inside of the doors.
The mediums are generally first tied by a committee of two gentlemen
appointed from the audience. The doors of the cabinet are then closed,
those at the ends first, and then the middle one, the bolt of which is
reached by the manager through the aperture.
By the time the end doors are closed and bolted, the Davenports, in many
instances, have succeeded in loosening the knots next their wrists, and
in slipping their hands out, the latter being then exhibited at the
aperture. Lest the hands should be recognized as belonging to the
mediums, they are kept in a constant shaking motion while in view; and
to make the hands look large or small, they spread or press together the
fingers. With that peculiar rapid motion imparted to them, four hands in
the aperture will appear to be half-a-dozen. A lady's flesh colored kid
glove, nicely stuffed with cotton, is sometimes exhibited as a female
hand--a critical observation of it never being allowed. It does not
take the medium long to draw the knots close to their wrists again. They
are then ready to be inspected by the Committee, who report them tied as
they were left. Supposing them to have been securely bound all the
while, those who witness the show are very naturally astonished.
Sometimes, after being tied by a committee, the mediums cannot readily
extricate their hands and get them back as they were; in which case they
release themselves entirely from the ropes before the doors are again
opened, concluding to wait till after "the spirits" have bound them,
before showing hands or making music.
It is a common thing for these impostors to give the rope between their
hands a twist while those limbs are being bound; and that movement, if
dexterously made, while the attention of the committee-men is
momentarily diverted, is not likely to be detected. Reversing that
movement will let the hand out.
The great point with the Davenports in tying themselves is, to have a
knot next their wrists that looks solid, "fair and square," at the same
time that they can slip it and get their hands out in a moment. There
are several ways of forming such a knot, one of which I will attempt to
describe. In the middle of a rope a square knot is tied, loosely at
first, so that the ends of the rope can be tucked through, in opposite
directions, below the knot, and the latter is then drawn tight. There
are then two loops--which should be made small--through which the hands
are to pass after the rest of the tying is done. Just sufficient slack
is left to admit of the hands passing through the loops, which, lastly,
are drawn close to the wrists, the knot coming between the latter. No
one, from the appearance of such a knot, would suspect it could be
slipped. The mediums thus tied can, immediately after the committee have
inspected the knots, and closed the doors, show hands or play upon
musical instruments, and in a few seconds be, to all appearance, firmly
tied again.
If flour has been placed in their hands, it makes no difference as to
their getting those members out of or into the ropes; but, to show hands
at the aperture, or to make a noise on the musical instruments, it is
necessary that they should get the flour out of one hand into the other.
The moisture of the hand and squeezing, packs the flour into a lump,
which can be laid into the other hand and returned without losing any.
The little flour that adheres to the empty hand can be wiped off in the
pantaloons pocket. The mediums seldom if ever take flour in their hands
while they are in the bonds put upon them by the committee. The
principal part of the show is after the tying has been done in their own
way. Wm. Fay, who accompanies the Davenports, is thus fixed when the
hypothetical spirits take the coat off his back.
As I before remarked, there are several ways in which the mediums tie
themselves. They always do it, however, in such a manner that, though
the tying looks secure, they can immediately get one or both hands out.
Let committees insist upon untying the knots of the spirits, whether the
mediums are willing or not. A little critical observation will enable
them to learn the trick.
To make this subject of tying clearer, I will repeat that the Davenports
always untie themselves by using their hands; as they are able in
ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, however impossible it may seem, to
release their hands by loosening the knots next their wrists. Sometimes
they do this by twisting the rope between their wrists; sometimes it is
by keeping their muscles as tense as possible during the tying, so that
when relaxed there shall be some slack. Most "committees" know so little
about tying, that anybody, by a little pulling, slipping, and wriggling,
could slip his hands out of their knots.
A violin, bell, and tambourine, with perhaps a guitar and drum, are the
instruments used by the Davenports in the cabinet. The one who plays the
violin holds the bell in his hand with the bow. The other chap beats the
tambourine on his knee, and has a hand for something else.
The "mediums" frequently allow a person to remain with them, providing
he will let his hands be tied to their knees, the operators having
previously been tied by "the spirits." The party who ventures upon that
experiment is apt to be considerably "mussed up," as "the spirits" are
not very gentle in their manipulations.
To expose all the tricks of these impostors would require more space
than I can afford at present. They have exhibited throughout the
Northern States and the Canadas; but never succeeded very well
pecuniarily until about two years ago, when they employed an agent, who
advertised them in such a way as to attract public attention. In
September last, they went to England, where they have since created
considerable excitement.
If the hands of these boys were tied close against the side of their
cabinet, the ropes passing through holes and fastened on the outside, I
think "the spirits" would always fail to work.
Dr. W. F. Van Vleck, of Ohio, to whom I am indebted for some of the
facts contained in this chapter, can beat the Davenport brothers at
their own game. In order that he might the better learn the various
methods pursued by the professed "mediums" in deceiving the public, Dr.
Van Vleck entered into the medium-business himself, and by establishing
confidential relations with those of the profession whose acquaintance
he made, he became duly qualified to expose them.
He was accepted and indorsed by leading spiritualists in different parts
of the country, as a good medium, who performed the most remarkable
spiritual wonders. As the worthy doctor practiced this innocent
deception on the professed mediums solely in order that he might thus be
able to expose their blasphemous impositions, the public will scarcely
dispute that in this case the end justified the means. I suppose it is
not possible for any professed medium to puzzle or deceive the doctor.
He is up to all their "dodges," because he has learned in their school.
Mediums always insist upon certain conditions, and those conditions are
just such as will best enable them to deceive the senses and pervert the
judgment.
Anderson "the Wizard of the North," and other conjurers in England,
gave the Davenports battle, but the "prestidigitators" did not reap many
laurels. Conjurers are no more likely to understand the tricks of the
mediums than any other person is. Before a trick can be exposed it must
be learned. Dr. Van Vleck, having learned "the ropes," is competent to
expose them; and he is doing it in many interesting public lectures and
illustrations.
If the Davenports were exhibiting simply as jugglers, I might admire
their dexterity, and have nothing to say against them; but when they
presumptuously pretend to deal in "things spiritual," I consider it my
duty, while treating of humbugs, to do this much at least in exposing
them.
CHAPTER X.
THE SPIRIT-RAPPING AND MEDIUM HUMBUGS.--THEIR ORIGIN.--HOW THE THING IS
DONE.--$500 REWARD.
The "spirit-rapping" humbug was started in Hydesville, New York, about
seventeen years ago, by several daughters of a Mr. Fox, living in that
place. These girls discovered that certain exercises of their anatomy
would produce mysterious sounds--mysterious to those who heard them,
simply because the means of their production were not apparent. Reports
of this wonder soon went abroad, and the Fox family were daily visited
by people from different sections of the country--all having a greed for
the marvelous. Not long after the strange sounds were first heard, some
one suggested that they were, perhaps, produced by spirits; and a
request was made for a certain number of raps, if that suggestion was
correct. The specified number were immediately heard. A plan was then
proposed by means of which communications might be received from "the
spirits." An investigator would repeat the alphabet, writing down
whatever letters were designated by the "raps." Sentences were thus
formed--the orthography, however, being decidedly bad.
What purported to be the spirit of a murdered peddler, gave an account
of his "taking off." He said that his body was buried beneath that very
house, in a corner of the cellar; that he had been killed by a former
occupant of the premises. A peddler really had disappeared, somewhat
mysteriously, from that part of the country some time before; and ready
credence was given the statements thus spelled out through the "raps."
Digging to the depth of eight feet in the cellar did not disclose any
"dead corpus," or even the remains of one. Soon after that, the missing
peddler reappeared in Hydesville, still "clothed with mortality," and
having a new assortment of wares to sell.
That the "raps" were produced by disembodied spirits many firmly
believed. False communications were attributed to evil spirits. The
answers to questions were as often wrong as right; and only right when
the answer could be easily guessed, or inferred from the nature of the
question itself.
The Fox family moved to Rochester, New York, soon after the
rapping-humbug was started; and it was there that their first public
effort was made. A committee was appointed to investigate the matter,
most of whom reported adversely to the claims of the "mediums;" though
all of them were puzzled to know how the thing was done. In Buffalo,
where the Foxes subsequently let their spirits flow, a committee of
doctors reported that these loosely-constructed girls produced the
"raps" by snapping their toe and knee joints. That theory, though very
much ridiculed by the spiritualists then and since, was correct, as
further developments proved.
Mrs. Culver, a relative of the Fox girls, made a solemn deposition
before a magistrate, to the effect that one of the girls had instructed
her how to produce the "raps," on condition that she (Mrs. C.) should
not communicate a knowledge of the matter to any one. Mrs. Culver was a
good Christian woman, and she felt it her duty--as the deception had
been carried so far--to expose the matter. She actually produced the
"raps," in presence of the magistrate, and explained the manner of
making them.
Doctor Von Vleck--to whom I referred in connection with my exposition of
the Davenport imposture--produces very loud "raps" before his audiences,
and so modulates them that they will seem to be at any desired point in
his vicinity; yet not a movement of his body betrays the fact that the
sounds are caused by him.
The Fox family found that the rapping business would be made to pay; and
so they continued it, with varying success, for a number of years,
making New York city their place of residence and principal field of
operation. I believe that none of them are now in the "spiritual line."
Margaret Fox, the youngest of the rappers, has for some time been a
member of the Roman Catholic Church.
From the very commencement of spiritualism, there has been a constantly
increasing demand for "spiritual" wonders, to meet which numerous
"mediums" have been "developed."
Many, who otherwise would not be in the least distinguished, have become
"mediums" in order to obtain notoriety, if nothing more.
Communicating by "raps" was a slow process; so some of the mediums took
to writing spasmodically; others talked in a "trance"--all under the
influence of spirits!
Mediumship has come to be a profession steadily pursued by quite a
number of persons, who get their living by it.
There are various classes of "mediums," the operations of each class
being confined to a particular department of "spiritual" humbuggery.
Some call themselves "test mediums;" and, by insisting upon certain
formulas, they succeed in astonishing, if they don't convince most of
them who visit them. It is by this class that the public is most likely
to be deceived.
There is a person by the name of J. V. Mansfield, who has been called by
spiritualists the "Great Spirit Postmaster," his specialty being the
answering of sealed letters addressed to spirits. The letters are
returned--some of them at least--to the writers without appearing to
have been opened, accompanied by answers purporting to be written
through Mansfield by the spirits addressed. Such of these letters as are
sealed with gum-arabic merely, can be steamed open, and the envelopes
resealed and reglazed as they were before. If sealing-wax has been used,
a sharp, thin blade will enable the medium to nicely cut off the seal by
splitting the paper under it; and then, after a knowledge of the
contents of the letter is arrived at, the seal can be replaced in its
original position, and made fast with gum-arabic. Not more than one out
of a hundred would be likely to observe that the seal had ever been
tampered with. The investigator opens the envelope, when returned to
him, at the end, preserving the sealed part intact, in order to show his
friends that the letter was answered without being opened!
Another method of the medium is, to slit open the envelope at the end
with a sharp knife, and afterward stick it together again with gum,
rubbing the edge slightly as soon as the gum is dry. If the job is
nicely done, a close observer would hardly perceive it.
Mr. Mansfield does not engage to answer all letters; those unanswered
being too securely sealed for him to open without detection. To secure
the services of the "Great Spirit-Postmaster," a fee of five dollars
must accompany your letter to the spirits; and the money is retained
whether an answer is returned or not.
Rather high postage that!
Several years since, a gentleman living in Buffalo, N. Y., addressed
some questions to one of his spirit-friends, and inclosed them, together
with a single hair and a grain of sand, in an envelope, which he sealed
so closely that no part of the contents could escape while being
transmitted by mail. The questions were sent to Mr. Mansfield and
answers requested through his "mediumship." The envelope containing the
questions was soon returned, with answers to the letter. The former did
not appear to have been opened. Spreading a large sheet of blank paper
on a table before him, the gentleman opened the envelope and placed its
contents on the table. The hair and grain of sand were not there.
Time and again has Mansfield been convicted of imposture, yet he still
prosecutes his nefarious business.
The "Spirit-Postmaster" fails to get answers to such questions as these:
"Where did you die?"
"When?"
"Who attended you in your last illness?"
"What were your last words?"
"How many were present at your death?"
But if the questions are of such a nature as the following, answers are
generally obtained:
"Are you happy?"
"Are you often near me?"
"And can you influence me?"
"Have you changed your religious notions since entering the
spirit-world?"
It is to be observed that the questions which the "Spirit-Postmaster"
can answer _require no knowledge of facts about the applicant_, while
those which he cannot answer, do require it.
Address, for instance, your spirit-father without mentioning his name,
and the name will not be given in connection with the reply purporting
to come from him--unless the medium knows your family.
I will write a series of questions addressed to one of my
spirit-friends, inclose them in an envelope, and if Mr. Mansfield or any
other professed medium will answer those questions pertinently in my
presence, and without touching the envelope, I will give to such party
five hundred dollars, and think I have got the worth of my money.
CHAPTER XI.
THE "BALLOT-TEST."--THE OLD GENTLEMAN AND HIS "DISEASED" RELATIVES.--A
"HUNGRY SPIRIT."--"PALMING" A BALLOT.--REVELATIONS ON STRIPS OF PAPER.
An aptitude for deception is all the capital that a person requires in
order to become a "spirit-medium;" or, at least, to gain the reputation
of being one. Backing up the pretence to mediumship with a show of
something mysterious, is all-sufficient to enlist attention, and insure
the making of converts.
One of the most noted of the mediumistic fraternity--whose name I do not
choose to give at present--steadily pursued his business, for several
years, in a room in Broadway, in this city, and succeeded not only in
humbugging a good many people, but in what was more important to
him--acquiring quite an amount of money. His mode of operating was "the
ballot-test," and was as follows:
Medium and investigator being seated opposite each other at a table, the
latter was handed several slips of blank paper, with the request that he
write the first (or Christian) names--one on each paper--of several of
his deceased relatives, which being done, he was desired to touch the
folded papers, one after the other, till one should be designated, by
three tips of the table, as containing the name of the spirit who would
communicate. The selected paper was laid aside, and the others thrown
upon the floor, the investigator being further requested to write on as
many different pieces of paper as contained the names, and the relation
(to himself) of the spirits bearing them. Supposing the names written
were Mary, Joseph, and Samuel, being, respectively, the investigator's
mother, father, and brother. The last-named class would be secondly
written, and one of them designated by three tips of the table, as in
the first instance. The respective ages of the deceased parties, at the
time of their decease, would also be written, and one of them selected.
The first "test" consisted in having the selected name, relationship,
and age correspond--that is, refer to the same party; to ascertain which
the investigator was desired to look at them, and state if it was the
case. If the correspondence was affirmed, a communication was soon
given, with the selected name, relationship, and age appended.
Questions, written in the presence of the medium, were answered
relevantly, if not pertinently. Investigators generally did their part
of the writing in a guarded manner, interposing their left hand between
the paper on which they wrote and the medium's eyes; and they were very
much astonished when they received a communication, couched in
affectionate terms, with the names of their spirit-friends attached.
By long practice, the medium was enabled to determine what the
investigator wrote, by the motion of his hand in writing. Nine out of
ten wrote the relationship first that corresponded with the first name
they had written. Therefore, if the medium selected the first that was
written of each class, they in most cases referred to the same spirit.
He waited till the investigator had affirmed the coincidence, before
proceeding; for he did not like to write a communication, appending to
it, for instance, "Your Uncle John," when it ought to be "Your Father
John." The reason he did not desire inquirers to write the surnames of
their spirit-friends, was this: almost all Christian names are common,
and he was familiar with the motions which the hand must make in writing
them; but there are comparatively few people who have the same surnames,
and to determine them would have been more difficult. No fact was
communicated that had not been surreptitiously gleaned from the
investigator.
An old gentleman, apparently from the country, one day entered the room
of this medium and expressed a desire for a "sperit communication."
He was told to take a seat at the table, and to write the names of his
deceased relatives. The medium, like many others, incorrectly pronounced
the term "deceased," the same as "diseased"--sounding the s like z.
The old gentleman carefully adjusted his "specs" and did what was
required of him. A name and relationship having been selected from those
written, the investigator was desired to examine and state if they
referred to one party.
"Wal, I declare they do!" said he. "But I say Mister, what has them
papers to do with a sperit communication?"
"You will see, directly," replied the medium.
Whereupon the latter spasmodically wrote a "communication," which read
somewhat as follows:
"MY DEAR HUSBAND:--I am very glad to be able to address you through
this channel. Keep on investigating, and you will soon be convinced
of the great fact of spirit-intercourse. I am happy in my
spirit-home; patiently awaiting the time when you will join me
here, etc. Your loving wife, BETSEY."
"Good gracious! But my old woman can't be dead," said the investigator,
"for I left her tu hum!"
"Not dead!" exclaimed the medium. "Did I not tell you to write the names
of deceazed relatives?"
"Diseased!" returned the old man; "Wal, she ain't anything else, for
she's had the rumatiz orfully for six months!"
Saying which, he took his hat and left, concluding that it was not worth
while to "keep on investigating" any longer at that time.
This same medium, not long since, visited Great Britain for the purpose
of practicing his profession there.
In one of the cities of Scotland, some shrewd investigator divined that
he was able to nearly guess from the motion of the hand what questions
were written.
"Are you happy?" being a question commonly asked the "spirits," one of
these gentlemen varied it by asking:
"Are you hungry?"
The reply was, an emphatic affirmative.
They tricked the trickster in other ways; one of which was to write the
names of mortals instead of spirits. It made no difference, however, as
to getting a "communication."
To tip the table without apparent muscular exertion, this impostor
placed his hands on it in such a way that the "pisiform bone" (which may
be felt projecting at the lower corner of the palm, opposite the thumb)
pressed against the edge. By pushing, the table tipped from him, it
being prevented from sliding by little spikes in the legs of the side
opposite the operator.
There are other "ballot-test mediums," as they are called, who have a
somewhat different method of cheating. They, too, require investigators
to write the names--in full, however--of their spirit-friends; the slips
of paper containing the names, to be folded and placed on a table. The
medium then seizes one of the "ballots," and asks:
"Is the spirit present whose name is on this?"
Dropping that and taking another:
"On this?"
So he handles all the papers without getting a response. During this
time, however, he has dexterously "palmed" one of the ballots,
which--while telling the investigator to be patient, as the spirits
would doubtless soon come--he opens with his left hand, on his knee,
under the edge of the table.
A mere glance enables him to read the name. Refolding the paper, and
retaining it in his hand, he remarks:
"I will touch the ballots again, and perhaps one of them will be
designated this time."
Dropping among the rest the one he had "palmed," he soon picks it up
again, whereat three loud "raps" are heard.
"That paper," says he to the investigator, "probably contains the name
of the spirit who rapped; please hold it in your hand."
Then seizing a pencil, he writes a name, which the investigator finds to
be the one contained in the selected paper.
If the ballots are few in number, a blank is put with the pile, when the
medium "palms" one, else the latter might be missed.
It seems the spirits can never give their names without being reminded
of them by the investigator, and then they are so doubtful of their own
identity that they have but little to say for themselves.
One medium to whom I have already alluded, after a sojourn of several
years in California--whither he went from Boston, seeking whom he might
humbug--has now returned to the East, and is operating in this city.
Besides answering sealed letters, he furnishes written "communications"
to parties visiting him at his rooms--a "sitting," however, being
granted to but one person at a time. His terms are only five dollars an
hour.
Seated at a table in a part of the room where is the most light, he
hands the investigator a strip of blank, white paper, rather thin and
light of texture, about a yard long and six inches wide, requesting him
to write across one end of it a single question, addressed to a
spirit-friend, then to sign his own name, and fold the paper once or
twice over what he has written. For instance:
"BROTHER SAMUEL:--Will you communicate with me through this medium?
WILLIAM FRANKLIN."
To learn what has been written, the medium lays the paper down on the
table, and repeatedly rubs the fingers of his right hand over the folds
made by the inquirer. If that does not render the writing visible
through the one thickness of paper that covers it, he slightly raises
the edge of the folds with his left hand while he continues to rub with
his right; and that admits of the light shining through, so that the
writing can be read. The other party is so situated that the writing is
not visible to him through the paper, and he is not likely to presume
that it is visible to the medium; the latter having assigned as a reason
for his manipulations that spirits were able to read the questions only
by means of the odylic, magnetic, or some other emanation from the ends
of his fingers!
Having learned the question, of course the medium can reply to it,
giving the name of the spirit addressed; but before doing so, he
doubles the two folds made by the inquirer, and, for a show of
consistency, again rubs his fingers over the paper. Then more folds and
more rubbing--all the folding, additional to the inquirer's, being done
to keep the latter from observing, when he comes to read the answer,
that it was possible for the medium to read the question through the two
folds of paper. The answer is written upon the same strip of paper that
accompanies the question.
The medium requires the investigator to write his questions each on a
different strip of paper; and before answering, he every time
manipulates the paper in the way I have described. When rubbing his
fingers over the question, he often shuts the eye which is toward the
inquirer--which prevents suspicion; but the other eye is open wide
enough to enable him to read the question through the paper.
Should a person write a test-question, the medium could not answer it
correctly even if he did see it. In his "communications" he uses many
terms of endearment, and if possible flatters the recipient out of his
common-sense, and into the belief that "after all there may be something
in it!"
Should the inquirer "smell a rat," and take measures to prevent the
medium from learning, in the way I have stated, what question is
written, he (the medium) gets nervous and discontinues the "sitting,"
alleging that conditions are unfavorable for spirit-communication.
CHAPTER XII.
SPIRITUAL "LETTERS ON THE ARM."--HOW TO MAKE THEM YOURSELF.--THE
TAMBOURINE AND RING FEATS.--DEXTER'S DANCING HATS.--PHOSPHORESCENT
OIL.--SOME SPIRITUAL SLANG.
The mediums produce "blood-red letters on the arm" in a very simple way.
It is done with a pencil, or some blunt-pointed instrument, it being
necessary to bear on hard while the movement of writing is being
executed. The pressure, though not sufficient to abrade the skin, forces
the blood from the capillary vessels over which the pencil passes, and
where, when the reaction takes place, an unusual quantity of blood
gathers and becomes plainly visible through the cuticle. Gradually, as
an equilibrium of the circulation is restored, the letters pass away.
This "manipulation" is generally produced by the medium in connection
with the ballot-test. Having learned the name of an investigator's
spirit-friend, in the manner stated in a previous article, the
investigator is set to writing some other names. While he is thus
occupied, the medium quickly slips up his sleeve under the table, and
writes on his arm the name he has learned.
Try the experiment yourself, reader. Hold out your left arm; clench the
fist so as to harden the muscle a little, and write your name on the
skin with a blunt pencil or any similar point, in letters say
three-quarters of an inch long, pressing firmly enough to feel a little
pain. Rub the place briskly a dozen times; this brings out the letters
quickly, in tolerably-distinct red lines.
On thick, tough skins it is difficult to produce letters in this way.
They might also be outlined more deeply by sharply pricking in dots
along the lines of the desired letters.
Among others who seek to gain money and notoriety by the exercise of
their talents for "spiritual" humbuggery, is a certain woman, whom I
will not further designate, but whose name is at the service of any
proper person, and who exhibited not long since in Brooklyn and New
York. This woman is accompanied by her husband, who is a confederate in
the playing of her "little game."
She seats herself at a table, which has been placed against the wall of
the room. The audience is so seated as to form a semicircle, at one end
of which, and near enough to the medium to be able to shake hands with
her, or nearly so, sits her husband, with perhaps an accommodating
spiritualist next to him. Then the medium, in an assumed voice, engages
in a miscellaneous talk, ending with a request that some one sit by her
and hold her hand.
A skeptic is permitted to do that. When thus placed, skeptic is directly
between the medium and her husband, and with his back to the latter. The
husband plays spirit, and with his right hand--which is free, the other
only being held by the accommodating spiritualist--pats the investigator
on the head, thumps him with a guitar and other instruments, and may be
pulls his hair.
The medium assumes all this to be done by a spirit, because her hands
are held and she could not do it! Profound reasoning! If any one
suggests that the husband had better sit somewhere else, the medium will
not hear to it--"he is a part of the battery," and the necessary
conditions must not be interfered with. Sure enough! Accommodating
spiritualist also says he holds husband fast.
A tambourine-frame, without the head, and an iron ring, large enough to
pass over one's arm, are exhibited to the audience. Medium says the
spirits have such power over matter as to be able to put one or both
those things on to her arm while some one holds her hands.
The party who is privileged to hold her hands on such occasion, has to
grope his way to her in the dark. Having reached her, she seizes his
hands, and passes one of them down her neck and along her arm, saying:
"Now you know there is no ring already there!"
Soon after he feels the tambourine-frame or ring slide over his hand and
on to his arm. A light is produced in order that he may see it is there.
When he took her hands he felt the frame or ring--or at any rate, a
frame or ring--under his elbow on the table, from which place it was
pulled by some power just before it went on to his arm. Such is his
report to the audience. But in fact, the medium has two frames, or else
a tambourine, and a tambourine-frame. She allows the investigator to
feel one of these.
She has, however, previous to his taking her hands, put one arm and head
through the frame she uses; so that of course he does not feel it when
she passes his hand down one side of her neck and over one of her arms,
as it is under that arm. Her husband pulls the tambourine from under the
investigator's elbow; then the medium gets her head back through the
frame, leaving it on her arm, or sliding it on to his, and the work is
done!
She has also two iron rings. One of them she puts over her arm and the
point of her shoulder, where it snugly remains, covered with a cape
which she persists in wearing on these occasions, till the investigator
takes her hands (in the dark) and feels the other ring under his elbows;
then the husband disposes of the ring on the table, and the medium works
the other one down on to her arm. The audience saw but one ring, and the
person sitting with the medium thought he had that under his elbow till
it was pulled away and put on the arm!
Some years ago, a man by the name of Dexter, who kept an oyster and
liquor saloon on Bleecker street, devised a somewhat novel exhibition
for the purpose of attracting custom. A number of hats, placed on the
floor of his saloon, danced (or bobbed up and down) in time to music.
His place was visited by a number of the leading spiritualists of New
York, several of whom were heard to express a belief that the hats were
moved by spirits! Dexter, however, did not claim to be a medium, though
he talked vaguely of "the power of electricity," when questioned with
regard to his exhibition. Besides making the hats dance, he would
(apparently) cause a violin placed in a box on the floor to sound, by
waving his hands over it.
The hats were moved by a somewhat complicated arrangement of wires,
worked by a confederate, out of sight. These wires were attached to
levers, and finally came up through the floor, through small holes
hidden from observation by the sawdust strewn there, as is common in
such places.
The violin in the box did not sound at all. It was another violin, under
the floor, that was heard. It is not easy for a person to exactly locate
a sound when the cause is not apparent. In short, Mr. Dexter's
operations may be described as only consisting of a little well-managed
Dexterity!
A young man "out West," claiming to be influenced by spirits, astonished
people by reading names, telling time by watches, etc., in a dark room.
He sat at a centre-table, which was covered with a cloth, in the middle
of the room. Investigators sat next the walls. The name of a spirit, for
instance, would be written and laid on a table, when in a short time he
pronounced it. To tell the time by a watch, he required it to be placed
on the table, or in his hand. With the tablecloth over his head, a
bottle of phosphorated oil enabled him to see, when not the least
glimmer of light was visible to others in the room.
If any of the "spiritualist" philosophers were to be asked what is the
philosophy of these proceedings, he would probably reply with a mess of
balderdash pretty much like the following:
"There is an infinitesimal influence of sympathy between mind and
matter, which permeates all beings, and pervades all the delicate niches
and interstices of human intelligence. This sympathetic influence
working upon the affined intelligence of an affinity, coagulates itself
into a corporiety, approximating closely to the adumbration of mortality
in its highest admensuration, at last accuminating in an accumination."
On these great philosophic principles it will not be difficult to
comprehend the following actual quotation from the Spiritual Telegraph:
"In the twelfth hour, the holy procedure shall crown the Triune Creator
with the most perfect disclosive illumination. Then shall the creation
in the effulgence above the divine seraphemal, arise into the dome of
the disclosure in one comprehensive revolving galaxy of supreme created
beatitudes."
That those not surcharged with the divine afflatus may be able to get at
the meaning of the above paragraph, it is translated thus:
"Then shall all the blockheads in the nincompoopdome of disclosive
procedure above the all-fired leather-fungus of Peter Nephninnygo, the
gooseberry grinder, rise into the dome of the disclosure until coequaled
and coexistensive and conglomerate lumuxes in one comprehensive mux
shall assimilate into nothing, and revolve like a bob-tailed pussy cat
after the space where the tail was."
What power there is in spiritualism!
I shall be glad to receive, for publication, authentic information, from
all parts of the world in regard to the doings of pretended
spiritualists, especially those who perform for money. It is high time
that the credulous portion of our community should be saved from the
deceptions, delusions, and swindles of these blasphemous mountebanks and
impostors.
CHAPTER XIII.
DEMONSTRATIONS BY "SAMPSON" UNDER A TABLE.--A MEDIUM WHO IS HANDY WITH
HER FEET.--EXPOSE OF ANOTHER OPERATOR IN DARK CIRCLES.
Considerable excitement has been created in various parts of the West by
a young woman, whose name need not here be given, who pretends to be a
"medium for physical manifestations." She is rather tall and quite
muscular, her general manner and expression indicating innocence and
simplicity.
The "manifestations" exhibited by her purport to be produced by Samson,
the Hebrew champion and anti-philistine.
In preparing for her exhibition, she has a table placed sideways against
the wall of the room, and covered with a thick blanket that reaches to
the floor. A large tin dishpan, with handles (or ears,) a German
accordeon, and a tea-bell are placed under the table, at the end of
which she seats herself in such a way that her body is against the top,
and her lower limbs underneath, her skirts being so adjusted as to fill
the space between the end legs of the table, and at the same time allow
free play for her pedal extremities. The blanket, at the end where she
sits, comes to her waist and hangs down to the floor on each side of her
chair. The space under the table is thus made dark--a necessary
condition, it is claimed--and all therein concealed from view. The
"medium" then folds her arms, looks careless, and the "manifestations"
commence. The accordeon is sounded, no music being executed upon it, and
the bell rung at the same time. Then the dishpan receives such treatment
that it makes a terrible noise. Some one is requested to go to the end
of the table opposite the "medium," put his hand under the blanket, take
hold of the dishpan, and pull. He does so, and finds that some power is
opposing him, holding the dishpan to one place. Not being rude, he
forbears to jerk with all his force, but retires to his seat. The table
rises several inches and comes down "kerslap," then it tips forward a
number of times; then one end jumps up and down in time to music, if
there is any one present to play; loud raps are heard upon it, and the
hypothetical Samson has quite a lively time generally. Some of the
mortals present, one at a time, put their fingers, by request, against
the blankets, through which those members are gingerly squeezed by what
might be a hand, if there was one under the table. A person being told
to take hold of the top of the table at the ends, he does so, and finds
it so heavy that he can barely lift it. Setting it down, he is told to
raise it again several inches; and at the second lifting it is no
heavier than one would naturally judge such a piece of furniture to be.
Another person is asked to lift the end furthest from the medium;
having done so, it suddenly becomes quite weighty, and, relaxing his
hold, it comes down with much force upon the floor. Thus, by the
power--exercised beneath the table--of an assumed spirit, that piece of
cabinet-ware becomes heavy or light, and is moved in various ways, the
medium not appearing to do it.
In addition to her other "fixins," this medium has a spirit-dial, so
called, on which are letters of the alphabet, the numerals, and such
words as "Yes," "No," and "Don't know." The whole thing is so arranged
that the pulling of a string makes an index hand go the circuit of the
dial-face, and it can be made to stop at any of the characters or words
thereon. This "spirit-dial" is placed on the table, near the end
furthest from the medium, the string passing through a hole and hanging
beneath. In the end of the string there is a knot. While the medium
remains in the same position in which she sat when the other
"manifestations" were produced, communications are spelled out through
the dial, the index being moved by some power under the table that pulls
the string. A coil-spring makes the index fly back to the
starting-point, when the power is relaxed at each indication of a
character or word. The orthography of these "spirits" is "bad if not
worse."
Now for an explanation of the various "manifestations" that I have
enumerated.
The medium is simply handy with her feet. To sound the accordeon and
ring the bell at the same time, she has to take off one of her shoes or
slippers, the latter being generally worn by her on these occasions.
That done, she gets the handle of the tea-bell between the toes of her
right foot, through a hole in the stocking, then putting the heel of the
same foot on the keys of the accordeon, and the other foot into the
strap on the bellows part of that instrument, she easily sounds it, the
motion necessary to do this also causing the bell to ring. She can
readily pass her heels over the keys to produce different notes. She is
thus able to make sounds on the accordeon that approximate to the very
simple tune of "Bounding Billows," and that is the extent of her musical
ability when only using her "pedals."
To get a congress-gaiter off the foot without using the hands is quite
easy; but how to get one on again, those members not being employed to
do it, would puzzle most people. It is not difficult to do, however, if
a cord has been attached to the strap of the gaiter and tied to the leg
above the calf. The cord should be slack, and that will admit of the
gaiter coming off. To get it on, the toe has to be worked into the top
of it, and then pulling on the cord with the toe of the other foot will
accomplish the rest.
The racket with the dishpan is made by putting the toe of the foot into
one of the handles or ears, and beating the pan about. By keeping the
toe in this handle and putting the other foot into the pan, the operator
can "stand a pull" from an investigator, who reaches under the blanket
and takes hold of the other handle.
To raise the table, the "medium" puts her knees under and against the
frame of it, then lifts her heels, pressing the toes against the floor,
at the same time bearing with her arms on the end. To make the table tip
forward, one knee only is pressed against the frame at the back side.
The raps are made with the toe of the medium's shoe against the leg,
frame, or top of the table.
What feels like a hand pressing the investigator's fingers when he puts
them against the blanket, is nothing more than the medium's feet, the
big toe of one foot doing duty for a thumb, and all the toes of the
other foot being used to imitate fingers. The pressure of these, through
a thick blanket, cannot well be distinguished from that of a hand. When
this experiment is to be made, the medium wears slippers that she can
readily get off her feet.
To make the table heavy, the operator presses her knees outwardly
against the legs of the table, and then presses down in opposition to
the party who is lifting, or she presses her knees against that surface
of the legs of the table that is toward her, while her feet are hooked
around the lower part of the legs; that gives her a leverage, by means
of which she can make the whole table or the end furthest from her seem
quite heavy, and if the person lifting it suddenly relaxes his hold, it
will come down with a forcible bang to the floor.
To work the "spirit-dial," the medium has only to press the string with
the toe of her foot against the top of the table, and slide it (the
string) along till the index points at the letter or word she wishes to
indicate. The frame of the dial is beveled, the face declining toward
the medium, so that she has no difficulty in observing where the index
points.
After concluding her performances under the table, this medium sometimes
moves her chair about two feet back and sits with her side toward the
end of the table, with one leg of which, however, the skirt of her dress
comes in contact. Under cover of the skirt she then hooks her foot
around the leg of the table and draws it toward her. This is done
without apparent muscular exertion, while she is engaged in
conversation; and parties present are humbugged into the belief that the
table was moved without "mortal contact"--so they report to outsiders.
This medium has a "manager," and he does his best in managing the
matter, to prevent "Samson being caught" in the act of cheating. The
medium, too, is vigilant, notwithstanding her appearance of carelessness
and innocent simplicity. A sudden rising of the blanket once exposed to
view her pedal extremities in active operation.
Another of the "Dark Circle" mediums gets a good deal of sympathy on
account of her "delicate health." Her health is not so delicate,
however, as to prevent her from laboring hard to humbug people with
"physical demonstrations." She operates only in private, in presence of
a limited number of people.
A circle being formed, the hands of all the members are joined except at
one place where a table intervenes. Those sitting next to this table
place a hand upon it, the other hand of each of these parties being
joined with the circle. The medium takes a position close by the table,
and during the manifestations is supposed to momentarily touch with her
two hands the hands of those parties sitting next to the table. Of
course, she could accomplish little or nothing if she allowed her hands
to be constantly held by investigators; so she hit upon the plan
mentioned above, to make the people present believe that the musical
instruments are not sounded by her. These instruments are within her
reach; and instead of touching the hands of those next the table with
both her hands, as supposed, she touches, alternately, their hands with
but one of hers, the other she expertly uses in sounding the
instruments.
Several years ago, at one of the circles of this medium, in St. John's,
Mich., a light was suddenly introduced, and she was seen in the act of
doing what she had asserted to be done by the "spirits." She has also
been exposed as an impostor in other places.
As I have said before, the mediums always insist on having such
"conditions" as will best enable them to deceive the senses and mislead
the judgment.
If there were a few more "detectives" like Doctor Von Vleck, the whole
mediumistic fraternity would soon "come to grief."
CHAPTER XIV.
SPIRITUAL PHOTOGRAPHING.--COLORADO JEWETT AND THE SPIRIT-PHOTOGRAPHS OF
GENERAL JACKSON, HENRY CLAY, DANIEL WEBSTER, STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS,
NAPOLEON BONAPARTE, ETC.--A LADY OF DISTINCTION SEEKS AND FINDS A
SPIRITUAL PHOTOGRAPH OF HER DECEASED INFANT, AND HER DEAD BROTHER WHO
WAS YET ALIVE.--HOW IT WAS DONE.
In answer to numerous inquiries and several threats of prosecution for
libel in consequence of what I have written in regard to impostors who
(for money) perform tricks of legerdemain and attribute them to the
spirits of deceased persons, I have only to say, I have no malice or
antipathies to gratify in these expositions. In undertaking to show up
the "Ancient and Modern Humbugs of the World," I am determined so far as
in me lies, to publish nothing but the truth. This I shall do, "with
good motives and for justifiable ends," and I shall do it fearlessly and
conscientiously. No threats will intimidate, no fawnings will flatter me
from publishing everything that is true which I think will contribute to
the information or to the amusement of my readers.
Some correspondents ask me if I believe that all pretensions to
intercourse with departed spirits are impositions. I reply, that if
people declare that they privately communicate with or are influenced to
write or speak by invisible spirits, I cannot prove that they are
deceived or are attempting to deceive me--although I believe that one or
the other of these propositions is true. But when they pretend to give
me communications from departed spirits, to tie or untie ropes--to read
sealed letters, or to answer test-questions through spiritual agencies,
I pronounce all such pretensions ridiculous impositions, and I stand
ready at any time to prove them so, or to forfeit five hundred dollars,
whenever these pretended mediums will succeed in producing their
"wonderful manifestations" in a room of my selecting, and with apparatus
of my providing; they not being permitted to handle the sealed letters
or folded ballots which they are to answer, nor to make conditions in
regard to the manner of rope tying, etc. If they can answer my
test-questions relevantly and truly, without touching the envelopes in
which they are sealed--or even when given to them by my word of mouth, I
will hand over the $500. If they can cause invisible agencies to perform
in open daylight many of the things which they pretend to accomplish by
spirits in the dark, I will promptly pay $500 for the sight. In the mean
time, I think I can reasonably account for and explain all pretended
spiritual gymnastic performances--throwings of hair-brushes--dancing
pianos--spirit-rapping--table-tipping--playing of musical instruments,
and flying through the air (in the dark,) and a thousand other
"wonderful manifestations" which, like most of the performances of
modern "magicians," are "passing strange" until explained, and then they
are as flat as dish-water. Dr. Von Vleck publicly produces all of these
pretended "manifestations" in open daylight, without claiming spiritual
aid.
Among the number of humbugs that owe their existence to various
combinations of circumstances and the extreme gullibility of the human
race, the following was related to me by a gentleman whose position and
character warrant me in announcing that it may be implicitly relied upon
as correct in every particular.
Some time before the Presidential election, a photographer residing in
one of our cities (an ingenious man and a scientific chemist,) was
engaged in making experiments with his camera, hoping to discover some
new combination whereby to increase the facility of "picturing the human
form divine," etc. One morning, his apparatus being in excellent order,
he determined to photograph himself. No sooner thought of, than he set
about making his arrangements. All being ready, he placed himself in a
position, remained a second or two, and then instantly closing his
camera, surveyed the result of his operation. On bringing the picture
out upon the plate, he was surprised to find a shadowy representation of
a human being, so remarkably ghostlike and supernatural, that he became
amused at the discovery he had made. The operation was repeated, until
he could produce similar pictures by a suitable arrangement of his
lenses and reflectors known to no other than himself. About this time he
became acquainted with one of the most famous spiritualist-writers, and
in conversation with him, showed him confidentially one of those
photographs, with also the shadow of another person, with the remark,
mysteriously whispered:
"I assure you, Sir, upon my word as a gentleman, and by all my hopes of
a hereafter, that this picture was produced upon the plate as you see
it, at a time when I had locked myself in my gallery, and no other
person was in the room. It appeared instantly, as you see it there; and
I have long wished to obtain the opinion of some man, like yourself, who
has investigated these mysteries."
The spiritualist listened attentively, looked upon the picture, heard
other explanations, examined other pictures, and sagely gave it as his
opinion that the inhabitants of the unknown sphere had taken this mode
of re-appearing to the view of mortal eyes, that this operator must be a
"medium" of especial power. The New York Herald of Progress, a
spiritualist paper, printed the first article upon this man's spiritual
photograph.
The acquaintance thus begun was continued, and the photographer found it
very profitable to oblige his spiritual friend, by the reproduction of
ghost-like pictures, ad infinitum, at the rate of five dollars each.
Mothers came to the room of the artist, and gratefully retired with
ghostly representations of departed little ones. Widows came to purchase
the shades of their departed husbands. Husbands visited the photographer
and procured the spectral pictures of their dead wives. Parents wanted
the phantom-portraits of their deceased children. Friends wished to
look upon what they believed to be the lineaments of those who had long
since gone to the spirit-land. All who sought to look on those pictures
were satisfied with what had been shown them, and, by conversation on
the subject, increased the number of visitors. In short, every person
who heard about this mystery determined to verify the wonderful tales
related, by looking upon the ghostly lineaments of some person, who,
they believed, inhabited another sphere. And here I may as well mention
that one of the faithful obtained a "spirit" picture of a deceased
brother who had been dead more than five years, and said that he
recognized also the very pattern of his cravat as the same that he wore
in life. Can human credulity go further than to suppose that the
departed still appear in the old clo' of their earthly wardrobe? and the
fact that the appearance of "the shade" of a young lady in one of the
fashionable cut Zouave jackets of the hour did not disturb the faith of
the believers, fills us indeed with wonder.
The fame of the photographer spread throughout the "spiritual circles,"
and pilgrims to this spiritual Mecca came from remote parts of the land,
and before many months, caused no little excitement among some persons,
inclined to believe that the demonstrations were entirely produced by
human agency.
The demand for "spirit" pictures consequently increased, until the
operator was forced to raise his price to ten dollars, whenever
successful in obtaining a true "spirit-picture," or to be overwhelmed
with business that now interfered with his regular labors.
About this time the famous "Peace Conference" had been concluded by the
issue of Mr. Lincoln's celebrated letter, "To whom it may concern," and
William Cornell Jewett (with his head full of projects for restoring
peace to a suffering country) heard about the mysterious photographer,
and visited the operator.
"Sir," said he, "I must consult with the spirits of distinguished
statesmen. We need their counsel. This cruel war must stop. Brethren
slaying brethren, it is horrible, Sir. Can you show me John Adams? Can
you show me Daniel Webster? Let me look upon the features of Andrew
Jackson. I must see that noble, glorious, wise old statesman, Henry
Clay, whom I knew. Could you reproduce Stephen A. Douglas, with whom to
counsel at this crisis in our national affairs! I should like to meet
the great Napoleon. Such, here obtained, would increase my influence in
the political work that I have in hand."
In his own nervous, impetuous, excited way, Colorado Jewett continued to
urge upon the photographer the great importance of receiving such
communications, or some evidence that the spirits of our deceased
statesmen were watching over and counseling those who desire to re-unite
the two opposing forces, fighting against each other on the soil of a
common country.
With much caution, the photographer answered the questions presented.
Arranging the camera, he produced some indistinct figures, and then
concluded that the "conditions" were not sufficiently favorable to
attempt anything more before the next day. On the following morning,
Jewett appeared--nervous, garrulous, and excited at the prospect of
being in the presence of those great men, whose spirits he desired to
invoke. The apparatus was prepared; utter silence imposed, and for some
time the heart of the peace-seeker could almost be heard thumping within
the breast of him who sought supernatural aid, in his efforts to end our
cruel civil war. Then, overcome by his own thoughts, Jewett disturbed
the "conditions" by changing his position, and muttering short
invocations, addressed to the shades of those he wished to behold. The
operator finally declared he could not proceed, and postponed his
performance for that day. So, excuses were made, until the mental
condition of Mr. Jewett had reached that state which permitted the
photographer to expect the most complete success. Everything being
prepared, Jewett breathlessly awaited the expected presence. Quietly the
operator produced the spectral representation of the elder Adams. Jewett
scrutinized the plate, and expressed a silent wonder, accompanied, no
doubt, with some mental appeals addressed to the ancient statesman.
Then, writing the name of Webster upon a slip of paper, he passed it
over to the photographer, who gravely placed the scrap of writing upon
the camera, and presently drew therefrom the "ghost-like" but well
remembered features of the "Sage of Marshfield." Colorado Jewett was now
thoroughly impressed with the spiritual power producing these images;
and in ecstasy breathed a prayer that Andrew Jackson might appear to
lend his countenance to the conference he wished to hold with the mighty
dead. Jackson's well known features came out upon call, after due
manipulation of the proper instrument. "Glorious trio of departed
statesmen!" thought Jewett, "help us by your counsels in this the day of
our nation's great distress." Next Henry Clay's outline was faintly
shown from the tomb, and here the sitter remarked that he expected him.
After him came Stephen A. Douglas, and the whole affair was so entirely
satisfactory to Jewett, that, after paying fifty dollars for what he had
witnessed, he, the next day, implored the presence of George Washington,
offering fifty dollars more for a "spiritual" sight of the "Father of
our Country." This request smote upon the ear of the photographer like
an invitation to commit sacrilege. His reverence for the memory of
Washington was not to be disturbed by the tempting offer of so many
greenbacks. He could not allow the features of that great man to be used
in connection with an imposture perpetrated upon so deluded a fanatic as
Colorado Jewett. In short, the "conditions" were unfavorable for the
apparition of "General Washington;" and his visitor must remain
satisfied with the council of great men that had been called from the
spirit world to instill wisdom into the noddle of a foolish man on this
terrestrial planet. Having failed to obtain, by the agency of the
operator, a glimpse of Washington, Jewett clasped his hands together,
and sinking upon his knees, said, looking toward Heaven: "O spirit of
the immortal Washington! look down upon the warring elements that
convulse our country, and kindly let thy form appear, to lend its
influence toward re-uniting a nation convulsed with civil war!"
It is needless to say that this prayer was not answered. The spirit
would not come forth; and, although quieted by the explanations and half
promises of the photographer, the peace-messenger departed, convinced
that he had been in the presence of five great statesmen, and saddened
by the reflection that the shade of the immortal Washington had turned
away its face from those who had refused to follow the counsels he gave
while living.
Soon after this, Jewett ordered duplicates of these photographs to the
value of $20 more. I now have on exhibition in my Museum several of the
veritable portraits taken at this time, in which the well-known form and
face of Mr. Jewett are plainly depicted, and on one of which appears the
shade of Henry Clay, on another that of Napoleon the First, and on
others ladies supposed to represent deceased feminines of great
celebrity. It is said that Jewett sent one of the Napoleonic pictures to
the Emperor Louis Napoleon.
Not long after Colorado Jewett had beheld these wonderful pictures, and
worked himself up into the belief that he was surrounded by the great
and good statesmen of a former generation, a lady, without making
herself known, called upon the photographer. I am informed that she is
the wife of a distinguished official. She had heard of the success of
others, and came to verify their experience under her own bereavement.
Completely satisfied by the apparition exhibited, she asked for and
obtained a spectral photograph resembling her son, who, some months
previously, had gone to the spirit-land. It is said that the same lady
asked for and obtained a spiritual photograph of her brother, whom she
had recently heard was slain in battle; and when she returned home she
found him alive, and as well as could be expected under the
circumstances. But this did not shake her faith in the least. She simply
remarked that some evil spirit had assumed her brother's form in order
to deceive her. This is a very common method of spiritualists "digging
out" when the impositions of the "money-operators" are detected. This
same lady has recently given her personal influence in favor of the
"medium" Colchester, in Washington. One of these impressions bearing the
likeness of this distinguished lady was accidentally recognized by a
visitor. This capped the climax of the imposture and satisfied the
photographer that he was committing a grave injury upon society by
continuing to produce "spiritual pictures," and subsequently he refused
to lend himself to any more "manifestations" of this kind. He had
exhausted the fun.
I need only explain the modus operandi of effecting this illusion, to
make apparent to the most ignorant that no supernatural agency was
required to produce photographs bearing a resemblance to the persons
whose "apparition" was desired. The photographer always took the
precaution of inquiring about the deceased, his appearance and ordinary
mode of wearing the hair. Then, selecting from countless old "negatives"
the nearest resemblance, it was produced for the visitor, in dim,
ghostlike outline differing so much from anything of the kind ever
produced, that his customers seldom failed to recognize some lineament
the dead person possessed when living, especially if such relative had
deceased long since. The spectral illusions of Adams, Webster, Jackson,
Clay, and Douglas were readily obtained from excellent portraits of the
deceased statesmen, from which the scientific operator had prepared his
illusions for Colorado Jewett.
In placing before my readers this incident of "Spiritual Photography," I
can assure them that the facts are substantially as related; and I am
now in correspondence with gentlemen of wealth and position who have
signified their willingness to support this statement by affidavits and
other documents prepared for the purpose of opening the eyes of the
people to the delusions daily practised upon the ignorant and
superstitious.
CHAPTER XV.
BANNER OF LIGHT.--MESSAGES FROM THE DEAD.--SPIRITUAL CIVILITIES.--SPIRIT
"HOLLERING."--HANS VON VLEET, THE FEMALE DUTCHMAN.--MRS. CONANT'S
"CIRCLES."--PAINE'S TABLE-TIPPING HUMBUG EXPOSED.
"The Banner of Light," a weekly journal of romance, literature, and
general intelligence, published in Boston, is the principal organ of
spiritualism in this country. Its "general intelligence" is rather
questionable, though there is no doubt about its being a "journal of
romance," strongly tinctured with humbug and imposture. It has a
"Message Department," the proprietors of the paper claiming that "each
message in this department of the "Banner" was spoken by the spirit
whose name it bears, through the instrumentality of Mrs. J. H. Conant,
while in an abnormal condition called the trance."
I give a few specimens of these "messages." Thus, for instance,
discourseth the Ghost of Lolley:
"How do? Don't know me, do you? Know George Lolley? [Yes. How do
you do?] I'm first rate. I'm dead; ain't you afraid of me? You know
I was familiar with those sort of things, so I wasn't frightened to
go.
"Well, won't you say to the folks that I'm all right, and happy?
that I didn't suffer a great deal, had a pretty severe wound, got
over that all right; went out from Petersburg. I was in the battle
before Petersburg; got my discharge from there. Remember me kindly
to Mr. Lord.
"Well, tell 'em as soon as I get the wheels a little greased up and
in running order I'll come back with the good things, as I said I
would, George W. Lolley. Good-bye."
Immediately after a "message" from the spirit of John Morgan, the
guerrilla, came one from Charles Talbot, who began as follows with a
curious apostrophe to his predecessor:
"Hi-yah! old grisly. It's lucky for you I didn't get in ahead of
you.
"I am Charlie Talbot, of Chambersburg, Pa. Was wounded in action,
captured by the Rebels, and 'died on their hands' as they say of
the horse."
It seems a little rude for one "spirit" to term another "Old Grisly;"
but such may be the style of compliment prevailing in the spirit-world.
Here is what Brother Klink said:
"John Klink, of the Twenty-fifth South Carolina. I want to open
communication with Thomas Lefar, Charleston, S. C. I am deucedly
ignorant about this coming back--dead railroad--business. It's new
business to me, as I suppose it will be to some of you when you
travel this way. Say I will do the best I can to communicate with
my friends, if they will give me an opportunity. I desire Mr. Lefar
to send my letter to my family when he receives it--he knows where
they are--and then report to this office.
"Good night, afternoon or morning, I don't know which. I walked out
at Petersburg."
Here is a message from George W. Gage, with some of the questions which
he answered:
"[How do you like your new home?] First rate. I likes--heigho!--I
likes to come here, for they clears all the truck away before you
get round, and fix up so you can talk right off. [Wasn't you a
medium?] No, Sir; I wasn't afraid, though; nor my mother ain't,
either. Oh, I knew about it; I knew before I come to die, about it.
My mother told me about it. I knew I'd be a woman when I come here,
too. [Did you?] Yes, sir; my mother told me, and said I musn't be
afraid. Oh, I don't likes that, but I likes to come.
"I forgot, Sir; my mother's deaf, and always had to holler. That
gentleman says folks ain't deaf here."
The observable points are first that he seems to have excused his
"hollering" by the habits consequent upon his mother's deafness. The
"hollering" consisted of unusually heavy thumping, I suppose. But the
second point is of far greater interest. George intimates that he has
changed his "sect," and become a woman! For this important alteration
his good mother had prepared his mind. This style of thing will not seem
so strange if we consider that some men become old women before they
die!
Here is another case of feminification and restitution combined. Hans
Von Vleet has become a vrow--what you may call a female Dutchman! It has
always been claimed that women are purer and better than men; and
accordingly we see that as soon as Hans became a woman he insisted on
his widow's returning to a Jew two thousand dollars that naughty Hans
had "Christianed" the poor Hebrew out of. But let Hans tell his own
story:
"I was Hans Von Vleet ven I vas here. I vas Von Vleet here; I is
one vrow now. I is one vrow ven I comes back; I vas no vrow ven I
vas here (alluding to the fact that he was temporarily occupying
the form of our medium.) I wish you to know that I first live in
Harlem, State of New York. Ven I vos here, I take something I had
no right to take, something that no belongs to me. I takes
something; I takes two thousand dollars that was no my own; that's
what I come back to say about. I first have some dealings with one
Jew; that's what you call him. He likes to Jew me, and I likes to
Christian him. I belongs to the Dutch Reform Church. (Do you think
you were a good member?) Vell, I vas. I believes in the creed; I
takes the sacrament; I lives up to it outside. I no lives up to it
inside, I suppose. (How do you find yourself now, Hans?) Vell, I
finds myself--vell, I don't know; I not feel very happy. Ven I
comes to the spirit-land, I first meet that Jew's brother, and he
tells me, 'Hans, you mus go back and makes some right with my
brother.' So I comes here.
"I vants my vrow, what I left in Harlem, to takes that two tousand
dollars and gives it back to that Jew's vrow. That's what I came
for to-day, Sir. (Has your vrow got it?) Vell, my vrow has got it
in a tin box. Ven I first go, I takes the money, I gives it to my
vrow, and she takes care of it. Now I vants my vrow to give that
two tousand dollars to that Jew's vrow.
"(How do you spell your name?) The vrow knows how to spell. (Hans
Von Vleet.) There's a something you cross in it. The vrow spells
the rest. Ah, that's wrong; you makes a blunder. Its V. not F.
That's like all vrows. (Do all vrows make blunders?) Vell, I don't
know; all do sometimes, I suppose. (Didn't you like vrows here?)
Oh, vell, I likes 'em sometimes. I likes mine own vrow. I not likes
to be a vrow myself. (Don't the clothes fit?) Ah, vell, I suppose
they fits, but I not likes to wear what not becomes me."
It is scarcely necessary to make comments on such horrible nonsense as
this. I may recur to the subject in future, should it appear expedient.
At present I must drop the subject of female men.
At the head of the "Message Department" is a standing advertisement,
which reads as follows:
"Our free circles are held at No. 158 Washington street, Room No. 4
(up stairs,) on Monday, Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. The
circle-room will be open for visitors at two o'clock; services
commence at precisely three o'clock, after which time no one will
be admitted. Donations solicited."
On the days and at the hour mentioned in the above advertisement, quite
an audience assembles to hear the messages Mrs. C. may have to deliver.
If a stranger present should request a message from one of his
spirit-friends, he would be told that a large number of spirits were
seeking to communicate through that "instrument," and each must await
his turn! Having read obituary notices in the files of old newspapers,
and the published list of those recently killed in battle, the medium
has data for any number of "messages." She talks in the style that she
imagines the person whom she attempts to personate would use, being one
of the doctrines of spiritualism that a person's character and feelings
are not changed by death. To make the humbug more complete, she narrates
imaginary incidents, asserting them to have occurred in the
earth-experience of the spirit who purports to have possession of her at
the same time she is speaking. Mediums in various parts of the country
furnish her with the names of and facts relative to different deceased
people of their acquaintance, and those names and facts are used by her
in supplying the "Message Department" of the "Banner of Light."
If the assumed "mediumship" of this woman was not an imposture, some of
the many people who have visited her for the purpose of getting
communications from their spirit-friends would have been gratified. In
most of the "messages" published in the Banner, the spirits purporting
to give them, express a great desire to have their mortal friends
receive them; but those mortals who seek to obtain through Mrs. Conant
satisfactory messages from their spirit-friends, are not gratified--the
medium not being posted. The mediums are as much opposed to "new tests"
as a non-committal politician.
Time and again have leading spiritualists, in various parts of the
country, indorsed as "spiritual manifestations," what was subsequently
proved to be an imposture.
Several years ago, a man by the name of Paine created a great sensation
in Worcester, Mass., by causing a table to move "without contact," he
claiming that it was done by spirits through his "mediumship." He
subsequently came to New York, and exhibited the "manifestation" at the
house of a spiritualist--where he boarded--in the upper part of the
city. A great many spiritualists and not a few "skeptics" went to see
his performance. Paine was a very soft-spoken, "good sort of a fellow,"
and appeared to be quite sincere in his claims to "mediumship." He
received no fee from those who witnessed his exhibition; and that fact,
in connection with others, tended to disarm people of suspicion. His
seances were held in the evening, and each visitor was received by him
at the door, and immediately conducted to a seat next the wall of the
room.
The visitors all in and seated, Mr. Paine took a seat with the rest in
the "circle." In the middle of the room a small table had previously
been placed, and the gas had been turned partly off, leaving just enough
light to make objects look ghostly.
In order to get "harmonized," singing was indulged in for a short time
by members of the "circle." Soon a number of raps would be heard in the
direction of the table, and one side of that piece of furniture would be
seen to rise about an inch from the floor. Some very naturally wanted to
rush to the table and investigate the matter more closely, but Paine
forbade that--the necessary "conditions" must be observed, he said, or
there would be no further manifestation of spirit-power. As there was no
one nearer to the table than six or eight feet, the fact of its moving,
very naturally astonished the skeptics present. Several "seeing mediums"
who attended Mr. Paine's seances, were able to see the spirits--so they
declared--who moved the table. One was described as a "big Injun," who
cut various capers, and appeared to be much delighted with the turn of
affairs. Believers were wonderfully well-pleased to know that at last a
medium was "developed" through whom the inhabitants of another world
could manifest their presence to mortals in such a way that no one could
gainsay the fact. The "invisibles" freely responded, by raps on the
table, to various questions asked by those in the "circle." They thumped
time to lively tunes, and seemed to have a decidedly good time of it in
their particular way. When the seance was concluded, Mr. Paine freely
permitted an examination of his table.
In the Sunday Spiritual Conferences, then held in Clinton Hall, leading
spiritualists gave an account of the "manifestations of the spirits"
through Mr. Paine, and, as believers, congratulated themselves upon the
existence of such "indubitable facts." The spiritualist in whose house
this exhibition of table-moving "without contact" took place, was well
known as a man of strict honesty; and it was reasonably presumed that no
mechanical contrivance could be used without his cognizance, in thus
moving a piece of his furniture--for the table belonged to him--and that
he would countenance a deception was out of the question.
There were in the city three gentlemen who had, for some time, been
known as spiritualists; but they were, at the period of Paine's debut as
a medium in New York, very skeptical with regard to "physical
manifestations." They had, a short time before, detected the Davenports
and other professed mediums in the practice of imposture; and they
determined not to accept, as true, Paine's pretence to mediumship, till
after a thorough investigation of his "manifestations," they should fail
to find a material cause for them. After attending several of his
seances, these gentlemen concluded that Paine moved the table by means
of a mechanical contrivance fixed under the floor. One of this trio of
investigators was a mechanic, and he had conceived a way--and it seemed
to him the only way--in which the "manifestation" could be produced
under the circumstances that apparently attended it. Paine was a
mechanic, and these parties were aware of that fact. They made an
appointment with him for a private seance. The evening fixed upon,
having arrived, they met with him at his room. The table was raised and
raps were made upon it, as had been done on previous occasions. One of
the three investigators stepped to the door of the room, locked it, put
the key in his pocket, took off his coat, and told Mr. Paine that he was
determined to search his (Paine's) person, and that if he did not find
about him a small short iron rod, by means of which, through a hole in
the floor, a lever underneath was worked in moving the table, he (the
speaker) would beg his (Mr. Paine's) pardon, and be forever after a firm
believer in the power of disembodied spirits to move ponderable bodies.
This impressive little speech had a decided and instant effect upon the
"medium." "Gentlemen," said the latter, "I might as well own up. Please
to be quietly seated, and I will tell you all about it." And he did tell
them all about it; subsequently repeating his confession before quite a
number of disgusted and cheaply sold spiritualists at the "New York
Spiritual Lyceum." The theory formed by one of the three investigators
referred to, as to Paine's method of moving the table, was singularly
correct.
Whilst the family with whom Paine boarded was away, one day, in
attendance at a funeral, he took up several of the floor boards of the
back parlor, and on the under side of them affixed a lever, with a
cross-piece at one end of it; and, in the ends of the cross-piece, bits
of wire were inserted, the wire being just as far apart as the legs of
the table to be moved. Small holes were made in the floor-boards for the
wire to come through to reach the table-legs. The other end of the lever
came within an inch or two of the wall. When all the arrangements were
completed, and the table being properly placed in order to move it, Mr.
Paine had only to insert one end of a short iron rod in a hole in the
heel of his boot, put the other end of the rod through a hole in the
floor, just under the edge of the carpet near the wall, and then press
the rod down upon the end of the lever.
The movements necessary in fixing the iron rod to its place were
executed while he was picking up his handkerchief, that he had purposely
dropped.
The middle of the lever was attached to the floor, and the end with the
cross-piece, being the heavier, brought the other end close up against
the floor, the wires in the cross-piece having their points just within
the bottom of the holes in the floor. The room was carpeted, and there
were little marks on the carpet, known only to Paine, that enabled him
to know just where to place the table. Pressing down the end of the
lever nearest the wall, an inch would bring the wires in the cross-piece
on the other end of the lever against the legs of the table, and
slightly raise the latter. One of the wires would strike the table-leg a
very little before the other did, and that enabled the "medium" to very
nicely rap time to the tunes that were sung or played. Of course, no
holes that any one could observe would be made in the carpet by the
passage of the wires through it.
For appearance' sake, Paine, before his detection, visited, by
invitation, the houses of several different spiritualists, for the
purpose of holding seances; but he never got a table to move "without
contact" in any other than the place where he had properly prepared the
conditions.
CHAPTER XVI.
SPIRITUALIST HUMBUGS WAKING UP.--FOSTER HEARD FROM.--S. B. BRITTAN HEARD
FROM.--THE BOSTON ARTISTS AND THEIR SPIRITUAL PORTRAITS.--THE WASHINGTON
MEDIUM AND HIS SPIRITUAL HANDS.--THE DAVENPORT BROTHERS AND THE
SEA-CAPTAIN'S WHEAT-FLOUR.--THE DAVENPORT BROTHERS ROUGHLY SHOWN UP BY
JOHN BULL.--HOW A SHINGLE "STUMPED" THE SPIRITS.
I hear from spiritualists sometimes. These gentry are much exercised in
their minds by my letters about them, and some of them fly out at me
very much as bumble-bees do at one who stirs up their nest. For
instance, I received, not long ago, from my good friends, Messrs.
Cauldwell & Whitney, an anonymous letter to them, dated at Washington,
and suggesting that if I would attend what the latter calls "a seance of
that celebrated humbug, Foster," I should see something that I could not
explain. Now, this anonymous letter, as I know by a spiritual
communication, (or otherwise,) is in a handwriting very wonderfully like
that of Mr. Foster himself. And as for the substance of it, it is very
likely that Foster has now gotten up some new tricks. He needs them. The
exhibiting mediums must, of course, contrive new tricks as fast as Dr.
Von Vleck and men like him show up their old ones. It is the universal
method of all sorts of impostors to adopt new means of fooling people
when their old ones are exposed. And Mr. Foster shall have all the
attention he wants if I ever find the leisure to bestow on him, though
my time is fully occupied with worthier objects.
I have also been complimented with a buzz and an attempt to sting from
my old friend S. B. Brittan, the ex-Universalist minister--the very
surprisingly efficient "man Friday" of Andrew Jackson Davis, in the
production of the "Revelations" of the said Davis, and also
ghost-fancier in general; who has gently aired part of his vocabulary in
a communication to the "Banner of Light," with the heading "Exposed for
Two Shillings." I can afford very well to expose friend Brittan and his
spiritualist humbugs for two shillings. The honester the cheaper. It
evidently vexes the spiritualists to have their ghosts put with the
monkeys in the Museum. They can't help it, though; and it is my
deliberate opinion that the monkeys are much the most respectable. I
have no wish to displease any honest person; but the more the
spiritualists squirm, and snarl, and scold, and call names, the more
they show that I am hurting them. Or--does my friend Brittan himself
want an engagement at the Museum? Will he produce some "manifestations"
there, and get that $500?--the money is ready!
A valued friend of mine has furnished me a pleasant and true narrative
of a fine "spiritual" humbug which took place in a respectable
Massachusetts village not very long ago. I give the story in his own
graphic words:
"Two artists of Boston, tired of the atmosphere of their studios,
resolved themselves, in joint session, into spiritual mediums, as a
means of raising the wind--or the devil--and of getting a little fresh
air in the rural districts. One of them had learned Mansfield's trick of
answering communications and that of writing on the arms. They had large
handbills printed, announcing that "Mr. W. Howard, the celebrated
test-medium, would visit the town of ----, and would remain at the ----
Hotel during three days." One of the artists preceded the other by a few
hours, engaged rooms, and attended to sundry preliminaries. "Mr. Howard"
donned a white choker, put his hair behind his ears, and mounted a pair
of plain glass spectacles; and such was his profoundly spiritual
appearance on entering his apartments at the hotel, that he had to lock
the door and give his partner opportunity to explode, and absolutely
roll about on the floor with laughter.
"Well, they rigged a clothes-horse for a screen; and to heighten the
effect, the assistant, who was expert in portraiture, covered this
screen, and, indeed, the walls of the room, with scraggy outlines of the
human countenance upon large sheets of paper. These, they said, were
executed by the draftsman, whose right hand, when under spiritual
influence, uncontrollably jerked off these likenesses. They added, that
the spirits had given information that,
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