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Title: The Humbugs of the World - An Account of Humbugs, Delusions, Impositions, Quackeries, - Deceits and Deceivers Generally, in All Ages
Author: Barnum, P. T. (Phineas Taylor), 1810-1891
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 employés 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 _exposé_ 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.--EXPOSÉ 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 Elysées; at other times, near the
column in the Place Vendôme; 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 cafés, 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 Linnæus, 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 séance 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.--EXPOSÉ 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
séances 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 séances, 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 séance 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 début 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
séances, 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 séance. 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 séances; 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 séance 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, before the mediums left town,
the people would recognize these pictures as likenesses of persons there
deceased within twenty years or so. Price, two dollars each! They
absolutely sold quite a large number of these portraits, as they were
from time to time recognized by surviving friends! The operation of
drawing portraits was also illustrated at certain hours, admission,
fifty cents; if not satisfactory, the money returned.
"Other tricks of various kinds were performed with pleasure to all
parties and profit to the performers. The artists stood it as long as
they could, and then departed. But there was every indication that the
towns-people would have stood it until this day."
Thus far my friend's curious and truthful account.
A little while ago, there was exhibiting, at Washington, a "test-medium"
whose name I would print, were it not that I do not want to advertise
him. One of his most impressive feats was, to cause spiritual hands and
other parts of the human frame to appear in the air à la Davenport
Brothers. A gentleman, whose name I also know very well indeed, but have
particular reasons for not mentioning, went one day to see this
"test-medium," along with a friend, and asked to see a hand.
"Certainly," the medium said; and the room was darkened, and the
"circle" made round the table in the usual manner. After about five
minutes, my friend, who had contrived to place himself pretty near the
medium, saw, sure enough, a dim glimmering blue light in the air, a foot
or so before and above the head of the medium. In a minute, he could
see, dimly outlined in this blue light, the form of a hand, back toward
him, fingers together, and no thumb.
"Why is no thumb visible?" asked my friend of the medium in a solemn
manner.
"The reason is," said the medium, still more solemnly, "that the spirits
have not power enough to produce a whole hand and so they exhibit as
much as they can."
"And do they always show hands without thumbs?"
"Yes."
Here my friend, with a sudden jump, grabbed for the place where the
wrist of the mysterious hand ought to be. Strange to relate, he caught
it, and held it stoutly, to. A light was quickly had, when, still
stranger, the spirit-hand was clearly seen to be the fleshy paw of the
medium--and a fat paw it was too. Mr. Medium took the matter with the
coolness of a thorough rascal, and, lighting a cigar, merely observed:
"Well gentlemen, you needn't trouble yourselves to come here any more!"
He also insisted on his usual fee of five dollars, until threatened with
a prosecution for swindling.
The secret of this worthy gentleman is simple and soon told. Holding one
hand up in the air, he held up with the other, between the thumb and
finger, a little pinch of phosphorus and bi-sulphide of carbon, which
gave the blue light. If inconvenient to hold up the other hand, he had a
reserve pinch of blue-light under that invisible thumb. It is a curious
instance of the thorough credulity of genuine spiritualists that a
believer in this wretched rogue, on being circumstantially told this
whole story, not only steadily and firmly refused to credit it, and
continued his faith in the fellow, but absolutely would not go to see
the application of any other test. That's the sort of follower that is
worth having!
Another case was witnessed as follows, by the very same person on whose
authority I give the spirit-hand story. He was present--also, this time
in Washington, as it happened, at an exhibition by a certain pair of
spiritual brothers, since well known as the "Davenport Brothers."
These chaps, after the fashion of their kind, caused themselves to be
tied up in a rope, an old sea-captain tying them. This done, their
"shop" or cabinet, was shut upon them as usual, and the bangs, throwing
of sticks, etc., through a window, and the like, took place. Well, this
sly and inconvenient old sea-captain now slipped out of the hall a few
minutes, and came back with some wheat flour. Having tied up the
"brothers" again, he remarked:
"Now, gentlemen, please to take, each, your two hands full of wheat
flour."
The "brothers" got mad and flatly refused. Then they cooled down and
argued, saying it wouldn't make any difference, and was of no use.
"Well," said the ancient mariner, "if it won't make any difference you
can just as well do it, can't you?"
The audience, seeing the point, were so evidently pleased with the old
sailor, that the grumbling "brothers" though with a very bad grace, took
their fists full of flour, and were shut up.
There was not the least sign of a "manifestation"--no more than if the
wheat-flour had shot the "brothers" dead in their tracks. The audience
were immensely delighted. The "brothers," since that time, have learned
to perform some tricks with flour in their fists, but only when tied by
their own friends.
Since these facts came to my knowledge, the Davenport Brothers have
suffered an unpleasant exposure in Liverpool, in England, the details of
which have been kindly forwarded to me by attentive friends there. The
circumstances in question occurred on the evenings of Tuesday and
Wednesday, February 14 and 15, 1865. On the first of these evenings, a
gentleman named Cummins, selected by the audience as one of the Tying
Committee, tied one of the Brothers, and a Mr. Hulley, the other
committee-man, the other. But the Brothers saw instantly that they could
not wriggle out of these knots. They, therefore, refused to let the
tying be finished, saying that it was "brutal" although a surgeon
present said it was not; one tied brother was untied by Ferguson, the
agent; and then the Brothers went to work and performed their various
tricks without the supervision of any committee, but amid a constant
fire of derision, laughter, groans, shouts, and epithets from the
audience. On the next evening, the audience insisted on having the same
committee; the Brothers were very reluctant to allow it, but had to do
so after a long time. Ira Davenport refused again, however, instantly to
be tied, as soon as he saw what knot Mr. Cummins was going to use.
Cummins, however, though Ira squirmed most industriously, got him tied
fast, and then Ira called to Ferguson to cut the knot! Ferguson did so,
and cut Ira's hand. Ira now shewed the blood to the audience, and the
Brothers, with an immense pretense of indignation, went off the stage.
Cummins at once explained; the audience became disgusted, and, enraged
at the impudence of the imposture, broke over the foot-lights, knocked
Ferguson backward into the "cabinet;" and when the discomfited agent had
scrambled out and run away, smashed the thing fairly into
kindling-wood, and carried it off, all distributed into splinters and
chips. Early next morning, the terrified Davenports ran away out of
Liverpool; and a number of the audience were, at last accounts,
intending to go to law to get back the money paid for an exhibition
which they did not see.
The very thorough exposure of the Davenports thus made is an additional
proof--if such were needed--of the truth of what I have alleged about
the impostures perpetrated by them and their "mysterious" brethren of
the exhibiting sort.
Once the "spirits" were "stumped" with a shingle--a very proper yankee
jaw-bone of an ass to route such disembodied Philistines. One day a
certain person was present where some tables were rambling about, and
other revolutions taking place in the furniture-business, when he
stepped boldly forth like a herald bearing defiance, and cast down a
common white pine shingle upon the floor. "There," said he, coolly, "if
you can trot those tables about in that style, do it with that shingle.
Make it go about the room. Make it move an inch!" And lo, and behold!
the shingle lay perfectly still.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE DAVENPORT BROTHERS SHOWN UP ONCE MORE.--DR. NEWTON AT CHICAGO.--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.
Other "spiritual" facts have come to my hand, some of them furnishing
additional details about persons to whom I have already alluded, and
others being important to illustrate some general tendencies of
spiritualism.
And first, about the Davenport Brothers; they have met with another
"awful exposure," at the hands of a merciless Mr. Addison. This
gentleman is a London stockbroker, and his cool, sharp business habits
seem to have stood him in good stead in taking some fun out of the fools
who follow the Davenports. Mr. Addison, it seems, went to work, and,
just to amuse his friends, executed all the Davenport tricks. Upon this
the spiritualist newspapers in England, which, like the Boston Herald of
Progress, claim to believe in the "Brothers," came out and said that
Addison was a very wonderful medium indeed. On this the cold-blooded
Addison at once printed a letter, in which he not only said he had done
all their tricks without spiritual aid, but he moreover explained
exactly how he caught the Davenports in their impositions. He and a
long-legged friend went to one of the "dark séances" of the Davenports,
during which musical instruments were to fly about over the heads of the
audience, bang their pates, thrum, twang, etc. Addison and his friend
took a front seat; as soon as the lights were put out they put out their
legs too; stretching as far as possible; and, to use the unfeeling
language of Mr. Addison, they "soon had the satisfaction of feeling some
one falling over them." They then caught hold of an arm, from which a
guitar was forthwith let drop on the floor. In order to be certain who
the guitar-carrier was, they waited until the next time the lights were
put out, took each a mouthful of dry flour, and blew it out right among
the "manifestations." When the lamps were lighted, lo and behold! there
was Fay, the agent and manager of the Davenports, with his back all
powdered with flour. Addison showed this to an acquaintance, who said,
"Yes, he saw the flour; but he could not understand what made Addison
and his friend laugh so excessively at it."
The spiritualist newspapers don't think Addison is so great a medium as
they did!
Great accounts have recently come eastward from Chicago, of a certain
Doctor Newton, who is said to be working miracles by the hundred in the
way of healing diseases. This man operates with exactly the weapons all
the miracle-workers, quacks, and impostors, ancient and modern use. All
of them have appealed to the imaginations of their patients, and no
person acquainted with mental philosophy is ignorant that many a sick
man has been cured either by medicine and imagination together, or by
imagination alone. Therefore, even if this Newton should really be the
cause of the recovery of some persons from their ailments, it would be
no more a miracle than if Dr. Mott should do it; nor would Newton be any
the less a quack and a humbug.
Newton has operated at the East already. He had a career at New Haven
and Hartford, and in other places, before he steered westward in the
wake of the "Star of Empire." What he does is simply to ask what is the
matter, and where it hurts. Then he sticks his thumb into the seat of
the difficulty, or he pokes or strokes or pats it, as the case may be.
Then he says, "There--you're cured! God bless you!--Take yourself off!"
Chicago must be a credulous place, for we are informed of immense crowds
besieging this man, and undergoing his manipulations. One of the Chicago
papers, having little faith and a good deal of fun--which in such cases
is much better--published some burlesque stories and certificates about
"Doctor" Newton, some of them humorous enough. There is a certificate
from a woman with fourteen children, all having the measles at once. She
says that no sooner had Doctor Newton received one lock of hair of one
of them, than the measles left them all, and she now has said measles
corked up in a bottle! Another case was that of a merchant who had lost
his strength, but went and was stroked by Newton, and the very next day
was able to lift a note in bank, which had before been altogether too
heavy for him. There was also an old lady, whose story I fear was
imitated from Hood's funny conceit of the deaf woman who bought an
ear-trumpet, which was so effective that
----"The very next day
She heard from her husband in Botany Bay!"
The Chicago old lady in like manner, after having had Doctor Newton's
thumbs "jobbed" into her ears, certifies that she heard next morning
from her son in California.
One would think that this ridicule would put the learned Dr. Newton to
flight; but it will not until he is through with the fools.
I have already given an account of some of the messages from the other
world in the "Banner of Light," in which some of the spirits explain
that they have turned into women since they died. This is by no means
the first remarkable trick that the spirits have performed upon the
human organization. Here is what they did at High Rock, in
Massachusetts, a number of years ago. It beats Joanna Southcott in funny
absurdity, if not in blasphemy.
At High Rock, in the year 1854 or thereabouts, certain spiritualist
people were building some mysterious machinery. While this was in
process of erection, a female medium, of considerable eminence in those
parts, was informed by certain spirits, with great solemnity and pomp,
that "she would become the Mary of a new dispensation;" that is, she was
going to be a mother. Well, this was all proper, no doubt, and the lady
herself--so say the spiritualist accounts--had for some time experienced
indications that she was pregnant. These indications continued, and
became increasingly obvious, and also, it was observed, a little queer
in some particulars.
After a while, one Spear--a "Reverend Mr. Spear"--who was mixed up, it
appears, with the machinery-part of the business, and who was a medium
himself, transmitted to the lady a request from the spirits that she
would visit said Spear at High Rock on a certain day. She did so, of
course; and while there was unexpectedly taken with the pains of
childbirth, which the spiritualist authorities say, were
"internal"--where should they be, pray?--and "of the spirit rather than
of the physical nature; but were, nevertheless, quite as uncontrollable
as those of the latter, and not less severe." The labor proceeded. It
lasted two hours. As it went on, lo and behold! one part and another
part of the machinery began to move! And when, at the end of the two
hours, the parturition was safely over, all the machinery was going!
The lady had given birth to a Motive Force. Does anybody suppose I am
manufacturing this story? Not a bit of it. It is all told at length in a
book published by a spiritualist; and probably a good many of my readers
will remember about it.
Well, the baby had to be nursed--fact! This superhumanly silly female
actually went through the motions of nursing the motive force for some
weeks. Though how the thing sucked--Excuse me, ladies; I would not
discuss such delicate subjects did not the interests of truth require
it.
If I had been the physician, at any rate, I think I should have
recommended to hire a healthy female steam-engine for a wet nurse to
this young motive force; say a locomotive, for instance. I feel sure the
thing would have lived if it could have had a gauge-faucet or something
of that sort to draw on. But the medical folks in charge chose to permit
the mother to nurse the child, and she not being able to supply proper
nutriment, the poor little innocent faded--if that word be appropriate
for what couldn't be seen,--and finally "gin eout;" and the machinery,
after some abortive joggles and turns, stood hopelessly still.
This story is true--that is, it is true that the story was told, the
pretences were gone through, and the birth was actually believed by a
good many people. Some of them were prodigiously enthusiastic about it,
and called the invisible brat the New Motive Power, the Physical Savior,
Heaven's Last Best Gift to Man, the New Creation, the Great Spiritual
Revelation of the Age, the Philosopher's Stone, the Act of all Acts, and
so on, and so forth.
The great question of all was, Who was the daddy? I don't know of
anybody's asking this question, but its importance is extreme and
obvious. For if things like this are going to happen, the ladies will be
afraid to sleep alone in the house if so much as a sewing-machine or
apple-corer be about, and will not dare take solitary walks along any
stream where there is a water power.
A couple of miscellaneous anecdotes may not inappropriately be appended
to this story of monstrous delusion.
Once a "writing medium" was producing sentences in various foreign
languages. One of these was Arabic. An enthusiastic youth, a
half-believer, after inspecting the wondrous scroll, handed it to his
seat-mate, a professor (as it happened) in one of our oldest colleges,
and a man of real learning. The professor scrutinized the document. What
was the youth's delight to hear him at last observe gravely, "It is a
kind of Arabic, sure enough!"
"What kind?" asked the young man with intense interest.
"Gum-arabic," said the professor.
The spirit of the prophet Daniel came one night into the apartment of a
medium named Fowler, and right before his eyes, he said, wrote down some
marks on a piece of paper. These were shown to the Reverend George Bush,
Professor of Hebrew in the New-York University, who said that they were
"a few verses from the last chapter of Daniel" and were learnedly
written. Bush was a spiritualist as well as a professor of Hebrew, and
he ought to have known better than to indorse spirit-Hebrew; for shortly
there came others, who, to use a rustic phrase, "took the rag off the
Bush." These inconvenient personages were three or four persons of
learning: one a Jew, who proved that the document was an attempt to copy
the verses in question, by some one so ignorant of Hebrew as not to know
that it is written backward, that is, from right to left.
During the last few months, a "boy medium," by the name of Henry B.
Allen, thirteen years of age, has been astonishing people in various
parts of the country by "Physical Manifestations in the Light." The
exhibitions of this precocious youngster have been "managed" by a Dr.
Randall, who also lectures upon Spiritualism, expounding its "beautiful
philosophy." For a number of weeks this couple held forth in Boston,
sometimes giving several séances during the day, not more than thirty
being allowed to attend at one time, each of whom were required to pay
an admission fee of one dollar.
"The Banner of Light" fully indorsed this Allen boy, and gave lengthy
accounts of his manifestations. The arrangements for his exhibition were
very simple. A dulcimer, guitar, bell, and small drum being placed on a
sofa or several chairs set against the wall, a clothes-horse was set in
front of them and covered with a blanket, which came to the floor. To
obtain "manifestations," a person was required to take off his coat and
sit with his back to the clothes-horse. The medium then took a seat
close to, and facing the investigator's left side, and grasped the left
arm of the latter on the under side, above the elbow, with his (the
medium's) right hand and near the wrist with the other hand. The
"manager" then covered with a coat, the arms and left shoulder of the
medium including the left arm of the investigator. The medium soon
commenced to wriggle and twist--the "manager" said he was always nervous
under "influence"--and worked the coat away from the position in which
it had been placed. Taking his right hand from the investigator's arm,
he readjusted the coat, and availed himself of that opportunity to get
the investigator's wrist between his (the medium's) left arm and knee.
That brought his left hand in such a position that with it he could
grasp the investigator's arm where he had previously grasped it with his
right hand. With the latter he could then reach around the edge of the
clothes-horse and make a noise on the instruments. With the drumsticks
he thumped on the dulcimer. Taking the guitar by the neck, he could
vibrate the strings and show the body of the instrument above the
clothes-horse, without any one seeing his hand! All persons present were
so seated that they could not see behind the clothes-horse, or have a
view of the medium's right shoulder. When asked why people were not
allowed to occupy such a position, that they could have a fair view of
the instruments when sounded, the "manager" replied that he did not
exactly know, but presumed it was because the magnetic emanations from
the eyes of the beholders would prevent the spirits being able to move
the instruments at all! What was claimed to be a spirit-hand was often
shown above the clothes-horse, where it flickered for an instant and was
withdrawn; but it was invariably a right hand with the wrist toward the
medium. When the person sitting with the medium was asked if the hands
of the latter had constantly hold of his arm, he replied in the
affirmative. Of course, he felt what he supposed to be both the medium's
hands; but as I before explained, the pressure on his wrist was from the
medium's left arm--the left hand of whom, by means of a very
accommodating crook in the elbow, was grasping the investigator's arm
where the medium's right hand was supposed to be.
From Boston the Allen boy went to Portland, Maine, where he succeeded
"astonishingly," till some gentleman applied the lampblack test to his
assumed mediumship, whereupon he "came to grief."
The following is copied from the "Portland Daily Press," of March 21.
"EXPOSED.--The 'wonderful' spiritual manifestations of the
'boy-medium,' Master Henry B. Allen, in charge of Doctor J. H.
Randall, of Boston, were brought to a sad end last evening by the
impertinent curiosity and wicked doings of some of the gentlemen
present at the seance at Congress Hall.
"As usual, one of the company present was selected to sit at the
side of the boy, and allowed his hand and arm to be held by both
hands of the boy while the manifestations were going on. The boy
seized hold of the gentleman's wrist with his left hand, and his
shoulder, or near it, with the right hand. The manifestations then
began, and among them was one trick of pulling the gentleman's
hair.
"Immediately after this trick was performed, the hand of the boy
was discovered to be very black--from lamp-black, of the best
quality, with which the gentleman had dressed his head on purpose
to detect whose was the 'spirit-hand' that pulled his hair. His
shirt-sleeve, upon which the boy immediately replaced his hand
after pulling his hair, was also black where the hand had been
placed. The gentleman stated the facts to the company present, and
the seance broke up. Dr. Randall refunded the fifty cents admission
fee to those present."
The spiritualists of the city were somewhat staggered by this exposé,
but soon rallied as one of their number announced a new discovery in
spiritual science. Here it is, as stated by himself:
"Whatever the electrical or 'spirit-hand' touches, will inevitably be
transferred to the hand of the medium in every instance, unless
something occurs to prevent the full operation of the law by which this
result is produced. The spirit-hand being composed in part of the
magnetic elements drawn from the medium, when it is dissolved again, and
the magnetic fluid returns whence it came, it must of necessity carry
with it whatever material substance it has touched, and leave it
deposited upon the surface or material hand of the medium. This is a
scientific question. How many innocent mediums have been wronged? and
the invisible have permitted it, until we should discover that it was
the natural result of a natural law."
What a great discovery! and how lucidly it is set forth! The author
(who, by the way, is editor of the "Portland Evening Courier") of this
new discovery, was not so modest but that he hastened to announce and
claim full credit for it in the columns of the "Banner of Light"--the
editor of which journal congratulates him on having done so much for the
cause of spiritualism! Those skeptics who were present when the
lamp-black was "transferred" from the gentleman's hair to the medium's
hand, rashly concluded that the boy was an impostor. It remained for Mr.
Hall--that is the philosopher's name--to make the "electro-magnetic
transfer" discovery. The Allen boy ought ever to hold him in grateful
remembrance for coming to his rescue at such a critical period, when the
spirits would not vouchsafe an explanation that would exculpate him from
the grievous charge of imposture. Mr. Hall deserves a leather medal now,
and a soapstone monument when he is dead.
A person, whose initials are the same as the gentleman's named above,
once lived in Aroostook, Maine, and was in the habit of attending
"spiritual circles," in which he was sometimes influenced as a
"personating medium," and to represent the symptoms of the disease which
caused the controlling spirit's translation to another sphere. It having
been reported in Aroostook that a certain well-known individual, living
further east, had died of cholera, a desire was expressed at the next
"circle" to have him "manifest" himself. The medium above referred to
got "under influence," and personated, with an exhibition of all the
symptoms of cholera, the gentleman who was reported to have died of that
disease. So faithful to the supposed facts was the representation, that
the medium had to be cared for as if he was himself a veritable
cholera-patient. Several days after, the man who was "personated"
appeared in Aroostook, alive and well, never having been attacked with
the cholera. The local papers gave a graphic account of the
"manifestation" soon after it occurred.
But to return to the Allen boy. After his exposure by means of the
lamp-black test, and Mr. Hall, of the "Portland Evening Courier," had
announced his new discovery in spiritual science, several of the
Portland spiritualists had a private "sitting" with the boy. While he
sat with his hands upon the arm of one of their number, they tied a rope
to his wrists, and around the person's arm, covering his hands in the
way I have before described. After some wriggling and twisting (the
usual amount of "nervousness,") the bell was heard to ring behind the
clothes-horse. The boy's right hand was then examined, and it was found
to be stained with some colored matter that had previously been put upon
the handle of the bell. As the boy's wrists were still tied, and the
rope remained upon the man's arm, the "transfer" theory was considered
to be established as a fact, and the previous exposure shown to be not
only no exposure at all, but a "stepping-stone to a grand truth in
spiritual science." Again and again did these persistent and infatuated
spiritualists try what they call the "transfer test," varying with each
experiment the coloring-material used, and every time the bell was rung
the medium's right hand was found out to be stained with what had been
put upon the bell-handle. By having a little slack-rope between his
wrist and the man's arm, it was not a difficult matter for the medium,
while his "nervousness" was being manifested, to get hold of the bell
and ring it, and to make sounds upon the strings of the dulcimer or
guitar, with a drumstick that the "manager" had placed at a convenient
distance from his (the boy's) hand.
The "Portland Daily Press," in noticing a lecture against Spiritualism,
recently delivered by Dr. Von Vleck, in that city, says:--"He (Dr. V.
V.) performed the principal feats of the Allen boy, with his hands tied
to the arm of the person with whom he was in communication."
Horace Greeley says that if a man will be a consummate jackass and fool,
he is not aware of anything in the Constitution to prevent it. I believe
Mr. Greeley is right; and I think no one can reasonably be expected to
exercise common sense unless he is known to possess it. It is quite
natural, therefore, that many of the spiritualists, lacking common
sense, should pretend to have something better.
III. TRADE AND BUSINESS IMPOSITIONS.
CHAPTER XVIII.
ADULTERATIONS OF FOOD.--ADULTERATIONS OF LIQUOR.--THE COLONEL'S
WHISKEY.--THE HUMBUGOMETER.
It was about eight hundred and fifty years before Christ when the young
prophet cried out to his master, Elisha, over the pottage of wild
gourds, "There is death in the pot!" It was two thousand six hundred and
seventy years afterward, in 1820, that Accum, the chemist cried out over
again, "There is death in the pot!" in the title page of a book so
named, which gave almost everybody a pain in the stomach, with its
horrid stories of the unhealthful humbugs sold for food and drink. This
excitement has been stirred up more than once since Mr. Accum's time,
with some success; yet nothing is more certain than that a very large
proportion of the food we eat, of the liquid we drink--always excepting
good well-filtered water--and the medicines we take, not to say a word
about the clothes we wear and the miscellaneous merchandise we use, is
more or less adulterated with cheaper materials. Sometimes these are
merely harmless; as flour, starch, annatto, lard, etc.; sometimes they
are vigorous, destructive poisons--as red lead, arsenic, strychnine, oil
of vitriol, potash, etc.
It is not agreeable to find ourselves so thickly beset by humbugs; to
find that we are not merely called on to see them, to hear them, to
believe them, to invest capital in them, but to eat and drink them. Yet
so it is; and, if my short discussion of this kind of humbug shall make
people a little more careful, and help them to preserve their health, I
shall think myself fortunate.
To begin with bread. Alum is very commonly put into it by the bakers, to
make it white. Flour of inferior quality, "runny" flour, and even that
from wormy wheat--ground-up worms, bugs, and all--is often mixed in as
much as the case will bear. Potato flour has been known to be mixed with
wheat; and so, thirty years ago, were plaster-of-Paris, bone-dust, white
clay, etc. But these are little used now, if at all; and the worst thing
in bread, aside from bad flour, which is bad enough, is usually the
alum. It is often put in ready mixed with salt, and it accomplishes two
things, viz., to make the bread white, and to suck up a good deal of
water, and make the bread weigh well. It has been sometimes found that
the alum was put in at the mill instead of the bakery.
Milk is most commonly adulterated with cold water; and many are the
jokes on the milkmen about their best cow being choked etc., by a turnip
in the pump-spout--their "cow with the wooden tail" (_i. e._, the
pump-handle,) and so on. Awful stories are told about the London
milkmen, who are said to manufacture a fearful kind of medicine to be
sold as milk, the cream being made of a quantity of calf's brain beaten
to a slime. Stories are told around New York, too, of a mysterious
powder sold by druggists, which with water makes milk; but it is milk
that must be used quickly, or it turns into a curious mess. But the
worst adulteration of milk is to adulterate the old cow herself; as is
done in the swill-milk establishments which received such an exposure a
few years ago in a city paper. This milk is still furnished; and many a
poor little baby is daily suffering convulsions from its effects. So
difficult is it to find real milk for babies in the city, that
physicians often prescribe the use of what is called "condensed" milk
instead; which, though very different from milk not evaporated, is at
least made of the genuine article. A series of careful experiments to
develop the milk-humbug was made by a competent physician in Boston
within a few years, but he found the milk there (aside from swill-milk)
adulterated with nothing worse than water, salt, and burnt sugar.
Tea is bejuggled first by John Chinaman, who is a very cunning rascal;
and second, by the seller here. Green and black tea are made from the
same plant, but by different processes--the green being most expensive.
To meet the increased demand for green tea, Master John takes immense
quantities of black tea and "paints" it, by stirring into it over a fire
a fine powder of plaster Paris and Prussian-blue, at the rate of half a
pound to each hundred pounds of tea. John also sometimes takes a very
cheap kind, and puts on a nice gloss by stirring it in gum-water, with
some stove-polish in it. We may imagine ourselves, after drinking this
kind of tea, with a beautiful black gloss on our insides. John moreover,
manufactures vast quantities of what he plainly calls "Lie-tea." This
is dust and refuse of tea-leaves and other leaves, made up with dust and
starch or gum into little lumps, and used to adulterate better tea.
Seven hundred and fifty thousand pounds of this nice stuff were imported
into England in one period of eighteen months. It seems to be used in
New-York only for green tea.
Coffee is adulterated with chicory-root (which costs only about
one-third as much)--dandelion-root, peas, beans, mangold-wurzel, wheat,
rye, acorns, carrots, parsnips, horse-chestnuts, and sometimes with
livers of horses and cattle! All these things are roasted or baked to
the proper color and consistency, and then mixed in. No great sympathy
need be expended on those who suffer from this particular humbug,
however; for when it is so easy to buy the real berry, and roast or at
least grind it one's self, it is our own fault if our laziness leaves us
to eat all those sorts of stuff.
Cocoa is "extended" with sugar, starch, flour, iron-rust, Venetian-red,
grease, and various earths. But it is believed by pretty good authority
that the American-made preparations of cocoa are nearly or quite pure.
Even if they are not the whole bean can be used instead.
Butter and lard have one tenth, and sometimes even one-quarter, of water
mixed up in them. It is easy to find this out by melting a sample before
the fire and putting it away to cool, when the humbug appears by the
grease going up, and the water, perhaps turbid with whey, settling
below.
Honey is humbugged with sugar or molasses. Sugar is not often sanded as
the old stories have it. Fine white sugar is sometimes floured pretty
well; and brown sugar is sometimes made of a portion of good sugar with
a cheaper kind mixed in. Inferior brown sugars are often full of a
certain crab-like animalcule or minute bug, often visible without a
microscope, in water where the sugar is dissolved. It is believed that
this pleasing insect sometimes gets into the skin, and produces a kind
of itch. I do not believe there is much danger of adulteration in good
loaf or crushed white sugar, or good granulated or brown sugar.
Pepper is mixed with fine dust, dirt, linseed-meal, ground rice, or
mustard and wheat-flour; ginger, with wheat flour colored by turmeric
and reinforced by cayenne. Cinnamon is sometimes not present at all in
what is so called--the stuff being the inferior and cheaper cassia bark;
sometimes it is only part cassia; sometimes the humbug part of it is
flour and ochre. Cayenne-pepper is mixed with corn-meal and salt,
Venetian-red, mustard, brickdust, fine sawdust, and red-lead. Mustard
with flour and turmeric. Confectionery is often poisoned with
Prussian-blue, Antwerp-blue, gamboge, ultramarine, chrome yellow,
red-lead, white-lead, vermilion, Brunswick-green, and Scheele's green,
or arsenite of copper! Never buy any confectionery that is colored or
painted. Vinegar is made of whisky, or of oil of vitriol. Pickles have
verdigris in them to make them a pretty green. "Pretty green" he must be
who will eat bought pickles! Preserved fruits often have verdigris in
them, too.
An awful list! Imagine a meal of such bewitched food, where the actual
articles are named. "Take some of the alum bread." "Have a cup of
pea-soup and chicory-coffee?" "I'll trouble you for the oil-of-vitriol,
if you please." "Have some sawdust on your meat, or do you prefer this
flour and turmeric mustard?" "A piece of this verdigris-preserve
gooseberry pie, Madam?" "Won't you put a few more sugar-bugs in your
ash-leaf tea?" "Do you prefer black tea, or Prussian-blue tea?" "Do you
like your tea with swill-milk, or without?"
I have not left myself space to speak of the tricks played by the
druggists and the liquor-dealers; but I propose to devote another
chapter exclusively to the adulteration of liquors in this country. It
is a subject so fearful and so important that nothing less than a
chapter can do it justice. I must now end with a story or two and a
suggestion or two.
Old Colonel P. sold much whisky; and his manner was to sell by sample
out of a pure barrel over night, at a marvelous cheap rate, and then to
"rectify" before morning, under pretence of coopering and marking.
Certain persons having a grudge against the Colonel, once made an
arrangement with a carman, who executed their plan, thus:--He went to
the Colonel, and asked to see whisky. The jolly old fellow took him down
stairs and showed him a great cellar full. Carman samples a barrel.
"Fust rate, Colonel, how d'ye sell it?" Colonel names his price on the
rectified basis. "Well, Colonel, how much yer got?" "So many
barrels--two or three hundred." "Colonel, here's your money. I'll take
the lot." "All right," says Colonel P.; "there's some coopering to be
done on it; some of the hoops and heads are a very little loose. You
shall have it all in the morning." "No, colonel, we'll roll it right out
this minnit! My trucks are up there, all ready." And, sure enough, he
had a string of a dozen or more brigaded in the street. The Colonel was
sadly dumbfounded; he turned several colors--red mostly--stammered, made
excuses. It was no go, the whisky was the customer's, and the game was
up. The humbugged old humbug finally "came down," and bought his man off
by paying him several hundred dollars.
There is a much older and better known story about a grocer who was a
deacon, and who was heard to call down stairs before breakfast, to his
clerk: "John, have you watered the rum?" "Yes, Sir." "And sanded the
sugar?" "Yes, Sir." "And dusted the pepper?" "Yes, Sir." "And chicoried
the coffee?" "Yes, Sir." "Then come up to prayers." Let us hope that the
grocers of the present day, while they adulterate less, do not pray
less.
Between 1851 and 1854, Mr. Wakley of the "London Lancet" gave an awful
roasting to the adulteration-interest in London. He employed an able
analyzer, who began by going about without telling what he was at; and
buying a great number of samples of all kinds of food, drugs, etc., at a
great number of shops. Then he analyzed them; and when he found humbug
in any sample, he published the facts, and the seller's name and place
of business. It may be imagined what a terrible row this kicked up. Very
numerous and violent threats were made; but the "Lancet," was never once
sued by any of the aggrieved, for it had told the truth.
Perhaps some discouraged reader may ask, What can I eat? Well, I don't
pretend to direct people's diet. Ask your doctor, if you can't find out.
But I will suggest that there are a few things that can't be
adulterated. You can't adulterate an egg, nor an oyster, nor an apple,
nor a potato, nor a salt codfish; and if they are spoiled they will
notify you themselves! and when good, they are all good healthy food. In
short, one good safeguard is, to use, as far as you can, things with
their life in them when you buy them, whether vegetable or animal. The
next best rule against these adulteration-humbugs is, to buy goods crude
instead of manufactured; coffee, and pepper, and spices, etc., whole
instead of ground, for instance. Thus, though you give more work, you
buy purity with it. And lastly, there are various chemical processes,
and the microscope, to detect adulterations; and milk, in particular,
may always be tested by a lactometer,--a simple little instrument which
the milkmen use, which costs a few shillings, and which tells the story
in an instant. It is a glass bulb, with a stem above and a scale on it,
and a weight below. In good average milk, at sixty degrees of heat, the
lactometer floats at twenty on its scale; and in poorer milk, at from
that figure down. If it floats at fifteen, the milk is one-fourth water;
if at ten, one half.
It would be a wonderful thing for mankind if some philosophic Yankee
would contrive some kind of "ometer" that would measure the infusion of
humbug in anything. A "Humbugometer" he might call it. I would warrant
him a good sale.
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.--EFFECTS OF DRUGS USED.--HOW TO USE THEM.--BUYING
LIQUORS UNDER THE CUSTOM-HOUSE LOCK.--A HOMOEOPATHIC DOSE.
As long as the people of the United States tipple down rum and other
liquors at the rate of a good deal more than one hundred million gallons
a year, besides what is imported and what is called imported--as long as
they pay for their tippling a good deal more than fifty millions, and
probably over a hundred millions of dollars a year--so long it will be a
great object to manufacture false liquors, and sell them at the price of
true ones. When liquor of good quality costs from four to fifteen
dollars a gallon, and an imitation can be had that tastes just as good,
and has just as much "jizm" in it,--and probably a good deal more,--for
from twenty-five cents to one dollar a gallon, somebody will surely make
and sell that imitation.
Adulterating and imitating liquors is a very large business; and I don't
know of anybody who will deny that this particular humbug is very
extensively cultivated. There are a great many people, however, who will
talk about it as they do in Western towns about fever and ague: "We
don't do anything of the kind here, but those other people over there
do!"
There is very little pure liquor, either malt or spirituous, to be
obtained in any way. The more you pay for it, as a rule, the more the
publican gains, but what you drink is none the purer. Importing don't
help you. Port is--or used to be, for very little is now made,
comparatively--imitated in immense quantities at Oporto; and in the
log-wood trade, the European wine-makers competed with the dyers. It is
a London proverb, that if you want genuine port-wine, you have got to go
to Oporto and make your own wine, and then ride on the barrel all the
way home. It is perhaps possible to get pure wine in France by buying it
at the vineyard; but if any dealer has had it, give up the idea!
As for what is done this side of the water, now for it. I do not rely
upon the old work of Mr. "Death-in-the-pot Accum," printed some thirty
years ago, in England. My statements come mostly from a New York book
put forth within a few years by a New York man, whose name is now in the
Directory, and whose business is said to consist to a great extent in
furnishing one kind or another of the queer stuff he talks about, to
brewers, or distillers, or wine and brandy merchants.
This gentleman, in a sweet alphabetical miscellany of drugs, herbs,
minerals, and groceries commonly used in manufacturing our best Old
Bourbon whisky, Swan gin, Madeira wine, pale ale, London brown stout,
Heidsieck, Clicquot, Lafitte, and other nice drinks; names the chief of
such ingredients as follows:
Aloes, alum, calamus (flag-root) capsicum, cocculus indicus, copperas,
coriander-seed, gentian-root, ginger, grains-of-paradise, honey,
liquorice, logwood, molasses, onions, opium, orange-peel, quassia, salt,
stramonium-seed (deadly nightshade), sugar of lead, sulphite of soda,
sulphuric acid, tobacco, turpentine, vitriol, yarrow. I have left
strychnine out of the list, as some persons have doubts about this
poison ever being used in adulterating liquors. A wholesale
liquor-dealer in New York city, however, assures me that more than
one-half the so-called whisky is poisoned with it.
Besides these twenty-seven kinds of rum, here come twenty-three more
articles, used to put the right color to it when it is made; by making a
soup of one or another, and stirring it in at the right time. I alphabet
these, too: alkanet-root, annatto, barwood, blackberry, blue-vitriol,
brazil-wood, burnt sugar, cochineal, elderberry, garancine (an extract
of madder), indigo, Nicaragua-wood, orchil, pokeberry, potash,
quercitron, red beet, red cabbage, red carrots, saffron, sanders-wood,
turmeric, whortleberry.
In all, in both lists, just fifty. There are more, however. But that's
enough. Now then, my friend, what did you drink this morning? You called
it Bourbon, or Cognac, or Old Otard, very likely, but what was it? The
"glorious uncertainty" of drinking liquor under these circumstances is
enough to make a man's head swim without his getting drunk at all. There
might, perhaps, be found a consolation like that of the Western
traveller about the hash. "When I travel in a canal-boat or steam-boat,"
quoth this brave and stout-stomached man, "I always eat the hash,
because then I know what I've got!"
It was a good many years ago that the Parliament of England found it
necessary to make a law to prevent sophisticating malt liquors. Here is
the list of things they forbid to put into beer: "molasses, honey,
liquorice, vitriol, quassia, cocculus indicus, grains-of-paradise,
Guinea-pepper, opium." The penalty was one thousand dollars fine on the
brewer, and two thousand five hundred dollars on the druggist who
supplied him.
I know of no such law in this country. The theory of our government
leaves people to take care of themselves as much as possible. But now
let us see what some of these fifty ingredients will do. Beets and
carrots, honey and liquorice, orange-peel and molasses, will not do much
harm; though I should think tipplers would prefer them as the customer
at the eating-house preferred his flies, "on a separate plate." But the
case is different with cocculus indicus, and stramonium, and sulphuric
acid, and sugar of lead, and the like. I take the following accounts, so
far as they are medical, from a standard work by Dr. Dunglison:--Aloes
is a cathartic. Cocculus indicus contains picrotoxin, which is an "acrid
narcotic poison;" from five to ten grains will kill a strong dog. The
boys often call it "cockle-cinders;" they pound it and mix it in dough,
and throw it into the water to catch fish. The poor fish eat it, soon
become delirious, whirling and dancing furiously about on the top of the
water, and then die. Copperas tends to produce nausea, vomiting,
griping, and purging. Grains-of-paradise, a large kind of cardamom, is
"strongly heating and carminative" (_i. e._, anti-flatulent and
anti-spasmodic.) Opium is known well enough. Stramonium-seed would seem
to have been made on purpose for the liquor business. In moderate doses
it is a powerful narcotic, producing vertigo, headache, dimness or
perversion of vision (_i. e._, seeing double) and confusion of thought.
(N. B. What else does liquor do?) In larger doses (still like liquor,)
you obtain these symptoms aggravated; and then a delirium, sometimes
whimsical (snakes in your boots) and sometimes furious, a stupor,
convulsions, and death. A fine drink this stramonium? Sugar of lead is
what is called a cumulative poison; having the quality of remaining in
the system when taken in small quantities, and piling itself up, as it
were, until there is enough to accomplish something, when it causes
debility, paralysis, and other things. Sulphuric acid is strongly
corrosive,--a powerful caustic, attacking the teeth, even when very
dilute; eating up flesh and bones alike when strong enough; and, if
taken in a large enough dose, an awfully tearing and agonizing fatal
poison.
The way to use these delectable nutriments is in part as follows:--Stir
a little sulphuric acid into your beer. This will give you a fine "old
ale" in about a quarter of a minute. Take a mixture of alum, salt, and
copperas, ground fine, and stir into your beer, and this will make it
froth handsomely. Cocculus indicus, tobacco-leaves, and stramonium,
cooked in the beer, etc., give it force. Potash is sometimes stirred
into wine to correct acidity. Sulphite of soda is now very commonly
stirred into cider, to keep it from fermenting further. Sugar of lead is
stirred into wines to make them clear, and to keep them sweet. And so
on, through the whole long list.
It is a curious instance of people's quiet acknowledgment of their own
foolishness, that a popular form of the invitation to take a drink is,
"Come and h'ist in some pizen!"
I know of no plan by which anybody can be sure of obtaining pure liquor
of any description. Some persons always purchase their wines and liquors
while they are under the custom-house lock and consequently before they
have reached the hands of the importer. Yet there are scores of men in
New York and Philadelphia who have made large fortunes by sending whisky
to France, there refining, coloring, flavoring, and doctoring it, then
re-shipping it to New York as French brandy, paying the duty, and
selling it before it has left the custom-house! There is a locality in
France where a certain brand of wine is made. It is adulterated with
red-lead, and every year more or less of the inhabitants of that
locality are attacked with "lead-colic," caused by drinking this
poisoned wine right at the fountain-head where it is made. There is more
bogus champagne drank in any one year, in the city of Paris alone, than
there is genuine champagne made in any one year in the world. America
ordinarily consumes more so-called champagne annually than is made in
the world, and yet nearly all the genuine champagne in the world is
taken by the courts of Europe. The genuine Hock wine made at
Johannisberg on the Rhine is worth three dollars per bottle by the large
quantity, and nearly all of it is shipped to Russia; yet, at any of the
hotels in the village of Johannisberg, within half a mile from the
wine-presses of the pure article, you can be supplied for a dollar per
bottle with what purports to be the genuine Hock wine. Since chemistry
has enabled liquor dealers to manufacture any description of wine or
liquor for twenty-five cents to a dollar a gallon, there are annually
made and sold thousands of gallons of wine and brandy that never smelt a
grape.
Suppose a wholesale liquor-merchant imports genuine brandy. He usually
"rectifies" and adulterates it by adding eighty-five gallons of pure
spirits (refined whisky,) to fifteen gallons of brandy, to give it a
flavor; then colors and "doctors" it, and it is ready for sale. Suppose
an Albany wholesale-dealer purchases, for pure brandy, ten pipes of this
adulterated brandy from a New York importer. The Albany man immediately
doubles his stock by adding an equal quantity of pure spirits. There are
then seven and a half gallons of brandy in a hundred. A Buffalo
liquor-dealer buys from the Albany man, and he in turn adds one-half
pure spirits. The Chicago dealer buys from the Buffalo dealer, and as
nearly all spirit-dealers keep large quantities of pure spirits on hand,
and know how to use it, he again doubles the quantity of his brandy by
adding pure spirits; and the Milwaukee liquor-dealer does the same,
after purchasing from the Chicago man. So, in the ordinary course of
liquor transactions, by the time a hundred gallon pipe of pure brandy
reaches Wisconsin, at a cost of five or perhaps ten dollars per gallon,
ninety-nine gallons and one pint of it is the identical whisky that was
shipped from Wisconsin the same year at fifty cents per gallon. Truly a
homoeopathic dose of genuine brandy! And even that whisky when it left
Wisconsin was only half whisky; for there are men in the whisky-making
States who make it a business to take whisky direct from the distillery,
add to it an equal quantity of water, and then bring it up to a bead and
the power of intoxication, by mixing in a variety of the villainous
drugs and deadly poisons enumerated in this chapter. The annual loss of
strength, health, and life caused by the adulteration of liquor is truly
appalling. Those who have not examined the subject can form no just
estimate of the atrocious and extensive effects of this murderous
humbug.
CHAPTER XX.
THE PETER FUNKS AND THEIR FUNCTIONS.--THE RURAL DIVINE AND THE
WATCH.--RISE AND PROGRESS OF MOCK AUCTIONS.--THEIR DECLINE AND FALL.
Not many years ago, a dignified and reverend man, whose name is well
known to me, was walking sedately down Broadway. He was dressed in
clerical garb of black garments and white neckcloth. He was a man of
great learning, profound thought, long experience, unaffected piety, and
pure and high reputation.
All at once, a kind of chattering shout smote him fair in the left ear:
"Narfnarfnarf! Three shall I have? Narfnarfnarfnarfnarf! Going at two
and a half! Gone!!"
And the grave divine, pausing, beheld a doorway, over which waved a
little red flag. Within, a company of eager bidders thronged around an
auctioneer's stand; and the auctioneer himself, a well-dressed man with
a highly respectable look, was just handing over to the delighted
purchaser a gold watch.
"It would be cheap at one hundred dollars," said he, in a despondent
tone. "It's mere robbery to sell it for that price. I'd buy it myself if
'twas legal."
And while the others, with exclamations of surprise and congratulation,
crowded to see this famous purchase, and the buyer exhibited it with a
joyful countenance close by the door, the divine, just out of curiosity,
stepped in. He owned no watch; he was a country clergyman, and poor in
this world's goods; so poor that, to use a familiar phrase, "if
steamboats were selling at a dime a piece, he would hardly be able to
buy a gang-plank." But what if he could, by good luck, buy a good gold
watch for two dollars and a half in this wonderful city!
Somehow, that watch was snapped open and closed again right under his
ministerial nose about six times. The auctioneer held up another of
exactly the same kind, and began to chatter again.
"Now gentlemen, what 'moffered f'this first-class M. I. Tobias gold
English lever watch--full jeweled, compensation-balance,
anchor-escapement, hunting case? One, did I hear? Say two cents, wont
yer? Two and a half! narfnarfnarfnarfnarf and a half! Two and a half,
and three quarters. Thank you, Sir," to a sailor-like man in the corner.
"Three," said a tall and well-dressed young gentleman with short hair,
near the clergyman, adding, in an undertone, "I can sell it for fifty
this afternoon."
"Three I am offered," says Mr. Auctioneer, and chattered on as before:
"And a half, did you say, Sir? Thank you, Sir. And a halfnarfnarf!"
The reverend divine had said, "And a half." The Peter Funks had got him!
But he didn't find it out quite yet. The bidding was run up to four
dollars; the clergyman took the watch, opened and examined it; was
convinced, handed it back, ventured another half, and the watch was
knocked down to him. The auctioneer fumbled in some papers, and, in a
moment, handed him his bargain neatly done up.
"This way to the clerk's office if you please, Sir," he added, with a
civil bow. The clergyman passed a little further in; and while the sales
proceeded behind him, the clerk made out a bill and proffered it.
"Fifty-four dollars and a half!" read the country divine, astounded.
"Four and a half is what I bid!"
"Four and a half!" exclaimed the clerk, with sarcastic indignation;
"Four dollars and a half! A pretty story! A minister to have the face to
say he could buy an M. I. Tobias gold watch, full jeweled, for four
dollars and a half! Ill thank you for the money, Sir. Fifty-four, fifty,
if you please."
The auctioneer, as if interrupted by the loud tones of the indignant
clerk, stopped the sale to see what was the matter. On hearing the
statement of the two parties, he cast a glance of angry contempt upon
the poor clergyman, who, by this time, was uneasy enough at their
scowling faces. Then, as if relenting, he said half-sneeringly:
"I don't think you look very well in this business, Sir. But you are
evidently a clergyman, and we wish everybody to have fair treatment in
this office. We won't be imposed upon, Sir, by any man!" (Here his face
darkened, and his fists could be seen to clench with much meaning.) "Pay
that money, Sir! This establishment is not to be humbugged. But you
needn't be afraid of losing anything. You may let me take the watch and
sell it for you again on the spot. Very likely you can get more for it.
You can't lose. The clergyman hesitated. The tall and well-dressed young
man with short hair pushed up and said:
"Don't want it? Put her up again. G--! I'd like another chance myself!"
A heavily-built fellow with one eye, observed over the auctioneer's
shoulder, with an evil look at the divine, "D--d if I don't believe that
cuss is a gambler, come in here to fool us country-folks. They allus
wears white neckcloths. I say, search him and boot him out of the shop!"
"Hold your tongue!" answered the auctioneer, with dignity. "I will see
you safe, Sir," to the clergyman. "But you bid that money, and you must
pay it. We can't do this business on any other principles."
"You will sell it for me again at once?" asked the poor minister.
"Certainly," said the mollified auctioneer. And the humbugged divine,
with an indistinct sense of something wrong, but not able to tell what,
took out forty dollars from his lean wallet and handed it to the clerk.
"It's all I have to get home with," he said, simply.
"Never fear, old gentleman," said the clerk, affably; "You'll be all
right in two minutes."
The watch was put up again. The clergyman, scarce able to believe his
ears, heard it rapidly run up to sixty dollars and knocked down at that
price. The cash was handed to the clerk, and another bill made out; ten
per cent., deducted, commission on sales. "Usual terms, Sir," observed
the clerk, handing over the notes just received for the watch. And the
divine, very thankful to get off for half a dollar, hurried off as fast
as he could.
I need not say that his fifty-four dollars was all counterfeit money.
When he went next morning, after endeavoring in vain to part with his
new funds, to find the place where he had been humbugged, it was close
shut, and he could hardly identify even the doorway. He went to the
police, and the shrewd captain told him that it was a difficult
business; but sent an officer with him to look up the rascals. Officer
found one; demanded redress; clergyman did the same. Rascal asked
clergyman's name; got it; told him he could prosecute if he liked.
Clergyman looked at officer; officer, with indifference, observed:
"Means to stick your name in the papers."
Clergyman said he would take further advice; did take it; thought he
wouldn't be shown up as a "greeny" in the police reports; borrowed money
enough to get home with, and if he has a gold watch now--which I really
hope he has--got it either for its real value, or as a "testimonial."
There, that (with many variations) is the whole story of Peter Funk.
These "mock auctioneers," sometimes, as in the case I have mentioned,
take advantage of the respectability of their victims, sometimes of
their haste to leave the city on business. When they could not possibly
avoid it, they disgorged their prey. No instance is known to me of any
legal penalty being inflicted on them by a magistrate; but they were
always, until 1862, treated by police, by magistrate, and by mayor, just
as thieves would be who should always be let off on returning their
stealings; so that they could not lose by thieving, and might gain.
These rascally mock-auctioneers, thus protected by the authorities, used
to fleece the public out of not less than sixty thousand dollars a year.
One of them cleared twelve thousand dollars during the year 1861 alone.
And this totally shameless and brazen-faced humbug flourished in New
York for twenty-five years!
About the first day of June, 1862, the Peter Funks had eleven dens, or
traps, in operation in New York; five in Broadway below Fulton street,
and the others in Park row, and Courtlandt, Greenwich, and Chatham
streets.
The name, Peter Funk, is said to have been that of the founder of their
system; but I know nothing more of his career. At this date, in 1862,
the system was in a high state of organization and success, and included
the following constituents:
1. Eight chief Funks, or capitalists, and managers, whose names are well
enough known. I have them on record.
2. About as many more salesmen, who took turns with the chiefs in
selling and clerking.
3. Seventy or eighty, rank and file, or ropers-in. These acted the part
of buyers, like the purchaser whose delight over his watch helped to
deceive the minister and the other bidders on that occasion. These
fellows dressed up as countrymen, sailors, and persons of miscellaneous
respectability. They bid and talked when that was sufficient, or helped
the managers thrash any troublesome person, if necessary. Once in a long
time they met their match; as, for instance, when the mate of a ship
brought up a squad of his crew, burst into one of their dens, and beat
and battered up the whole gang within an inch of their lives. But, in
most cases, the reckless infamy of these dregs of city vice gave them an
immense advantage over a decent citizen; for they could not be defiled
nor made ridiculous, and he could.
4. Two or three traders in cheap jewelry and fancy-goods supplied the
Funks with their wares. One of these fellows used to sell them fifty or
a hundred dollars' worth of this trash a day; and he lamented as much
over their untimely end as the Ephesian silversmiths did over the loss
of their trade in shrines.
5. A lawyer received a regular salary of $1,200 a year to defend all the
Funk cases.
6. The city politicians, in office and out of it, who were wont to
receive the aid of the Funks (a very energetic cohort) at elections, and
who in return unscrupulously used both power and influence to keep them
from punishment.
All this cunning machinery was brought to naught and New York relieved
of a shame and a pest by the courage, energy, perseverance, and good
sense of one Yankee officer--Russell Wells, a policeman. Mr. Wells took
about six months to finish up his work. He began it of his own accord,
finding that the spirit of the police regulations required it;
prosecuted the undertaking without fear or favor, finding not very much
support from the judicial authorities, and sometimes actual and direct
discouragement. His method was to mount guard over one auction shop at a
time, and warn all whom he saw going in, and to follow up all complaints
to the utmost until that shop was closed, when he laid siege to another.
Various offers of money, direct and indirect, were made him. One fellow
offered him $500 to walk on the other side of the street. Another
offered him $1,000 to drop the undertaking. Another hinted at a regular
salary of hush-money, saying "he had now got these fellows where he
could make as much out of them as he wanted to, right along."
Sometimes they threatened him with "murder and sudden death." Several
times they got out an injunction upon him, and several times sued him
for slander. One of their complaints charged, with ludicrous hypocrisy,
that the defendant, "with malicious intent, stood round the door
uttering slanderous charges against the good name, fame, and credit of
the defendant," just as foolish old lawyers used to argue that "the
greater the truth the greater the libel." Sometimes they argued and
indignantly denounced. One of them told him, "he was a thief and a
murderer, driving men out of employment whose wives and children
depended on their business for support."
Another contended that their business was just as fair as that of the
stock-operators in Wall street. I fear that wasn't making out much of a
case.
But their threats were idle; their suits, and prosecutions, and
injunctions, never came to a head; their bribes did not operate. The
officer, imperturbably good-natured, but horribly diligent, watched, and
warned, and hunted, and complained, and squeezed back their money at the
rate of $500 or $1,000 every month, until they were perfectly sickened.
One by one they shut up shop. One went to his farm, another to his
merchandise, another to emigrant running, another (known by the elegant
surname of Blur-eye Thompson) to raising recruits, several into the
bounty jumping business.
Such was the life and death of an outrageous humbug and nuisance, whose
like was not to be found in any other city on earth; and would not have
been endured in any except this careless, money-getting, misgoverned one
of New York.
CHAPTER XXI.
LOTTERY SHARKS.--BOULT AND HIS BROTHERS.--KENNETH, KIMBALL AND
COMPANY.--A MORE CENTRAL LOCATION WANTED FOR BUSINESS.--TWO
SEVENTEENTHLIES.--STRANGE COINCIDENCE.
I have before me a mass of letters, printed and lithographed circulars,
and the like, which illustrate well two or three of the most foolish and
vicious swindles [it is wrong to call them humbugs] now extant. They
also prove that there are a good many more fools alive in our Great
Republic than some of us would like to admit.
These letters and papers are signed, respectively, by the following
names: Alexander Van Dusen; Thomas Boult & Co.; E. F. Mayo; Geo. P.
Harper; Browne, Sherman & Co.; Hammett & Co.; Charles A. Herbert; Geo.
C. Kenneth; T. Seymour & Co.; C. W. White, Purchasing Agency; C. J.
Darlington; B. H. Robb & Co.; James Conway; S. B. Goodrich; Egerton
Brothers; C. F. Miner; E. J. Kimball; E. A. Wilson; and J. T. Small.
All these productions, with one or two exceptions, are dated during the
last three months of 1864, and January 1865. They are mailed from a good
many different places, and addressed to respectable people in all
directions.
In particular, should be noticed, however, two lots of them.
The first lot are signed either by Thomas Boult & Co., Hammett & Co.,
Egerton Brothers, or T. Seymour & Co. When these four documents are
placed together, each with its inclosure, a story is told that seems
clear enough to explain itself to the greenest fool in the world.
These fellows--Boult and the rest of them, I mean--are lottery sharks.
Now, those who buy lottery tickets are very silly and credulous, or very
lazy, or both. They want to get money without earning it. This foolish
and vicious wish, however, betrays them into the hands of these lottery
sharks. I wish that each of these poor foolish, greedy creatures could
study on this set of letters awhile. Look at them. You see that the
lithographed handwriting in all four is in the same hand. You observe
that each of them incloses a printed hand-bill with "scheme," all
looking as like as so many peas. They refer, you see, to the same
"Havana scheme," the same "Shelby College Lottery," the same "managers,"
and the same place of drawing. Now, see what they say. Each knave tells
his fool his only object is to put said fool in possession of a handsome
prize, so that fool may run round and show the money, and rope in more
fools. What an ingenious way to make the fool think he will return value
for the prize! Each knave further says to his fool (I copy the words of
the knave from his lithograph letter:) "We are so certain that we know
how to select a lucky certificate, that if the one we select for you
does not, at the very least, draw a $5,000 prize, we will"--what? Pay
the money ourselves? Oh no. Knave does not offer to pay half of it.
"Will send you another package in one of our extra lotteries for
nothing!"
Observe how particularly every knave is to tell his fool to "give us the
name of the nearest bank," so that the draft for the prize-money can be
forwarded instantly.
And in return for all this kindness, what do Messrs. Boult and-so-forth
want? Why, almost nothing. "The ridiculously small sum," as Mr. Montague
Tigg observed to Mr. Pecksniff, of $10. You observe that Hammett & Co.,
in one circular, demand $20, for the same $5,000 prize. But the amount,
they would say, is too trifling to be so particular about!
I will suggest a form for answering these gentlemen. Let every one of
my readers who receives one of their circulars just copy and date and
sign, and send them the following:
"GENTLEMEN:--I thank you for your great kindness in wishing to make
me the possessor of a $5,000 prize in your truly rich and splendid
Royal Havana Lottery. I fully believe that you know, as you say,
all about how to get these prizes, and that you can make it a big
thing. But I cannot think of taking all that money from such kind
of people as you. I must insist upon your having half of it, and I
will not hear of any refusal, I therefore hereby authorize you to
invest for me the trifle of $10, which you mention; and when the
prize is drawn, to put half of it, and $10 over, right into your
own benevolent pantaloons-pocket, and to remit the other half to
me, addressed as follows: (Here give the name of the "nearest
bank.")
"I have not the least fear that you will cheat me out of my half;
and, as you see, I thus place myself confidently in your hands.
With many thanks for your great and undeserved kindness, I remain
your obliged and obedient servant. ETC., ETC."
My readers will observe that this mode of replying affords full swing to
the expansive charities of Boult and his brethren, and is a sure method
of saving the expenditure of $10, although Boult is to get that amount
back when the prize is drawn.
I charge nothing for these suggestions; but will not be so discourteous
as to refuse a moderate percentage on all amounts received in pursuance
of them from Brother Boult & Co.
Here is the second special lot of letters I spoke of. I lay them out on
my desk as before: There are six letters signed respectively by Kimball,
Goodrich, Darlington, Kenneth, Harper, and Herbert. Now notice, first
the form, and next the substance.
As to form--they are all written, not, lithographed; they are on paper
of the same make and size, and out of the same lot, as you observe by
the manufacturer's stamp--a representation of the Capitol in the upper
corner. They are in the same hand, an easy legible business-hand, though
three of them are written with a backward slope. Those who sent them
have not sent me the envelopes with them, except in one case, so that I
cannot tell where they were mailed. Neither is any one of them dated
inside at any town or post-office. But, by a wonderful coincidence,
every one of them is dated at "No. 17 Merchants' Exchange." A busy mart
that No. 17 must be! And it is a still more curious coincidence that
every one of these six industrious chaps has been unable to find a
sufficiently central location for transacting his business. Every letter
you see, contains a printed slip advising of a removal, as follows:
"REMOVAL.--Desiring a more central location for transacting my business,
I have removed my office to No. 17 Merchants Exchange." Where? One says
to West Troy, New York; another to Patterson, New Jersey; another to
Bronxville, New York; another, to Salem, New-York, and so on! It is a
new thing to find how central all those places are. Undeveloped
metropolises seem to exist in every corner. Well, the slip ends with a
notice that in future letters must be directed to the new place.
Next, as to substance. The six letters all tell the same story. They
are each the second letter; the first one having been sent to the same
person, and having contained a lottery-ticket, as a gift of love or free
charity. This second letter is the one which is expected to "fetch." It
says in substance: "Your ticket has drawn a prize of $200,"--the letters
all name the same amount--"but you didn't pay for it; and therefore are
not entitled to it. Now send me $10 and I will cheat the lottery-man by
altering the post-mark of your letter so that the money shall seem to
have been sent before the lottery was drawn. This forgery will enable me
to get the $200, which I will send you."
How cunning that is! It is exactly calculated to hit the notions of a
vulgar, ignorant, lazy, greedy, and unprincipled bumpkin. Such a fellow
would see just far enough into the millstone to be tickled at the idea
of cheating those lottery fellows. And the knave ends his letter with
one more touch most delicately adapted to make Master Bumpkin feel
certain that his cash is coming. He says, "Be sure to show your prize to
all your friends, so as to make them buy tickets at my office."
Moreover, these letters inclose each a "report of the seventeenth
monthly drawing of the Cosmopolitan Art Union Association." You may
observe that one of these "seventeenth drawings" took place November 7
1864, and another December 5, 1864; so that seventeenthly came twice.
What is a far more remarkable coincidence is this; that in each of these
"reports" is a list of a hundred and thirty or forty numbers that drew
prizes, and it is exactly the same list each time, and the same prize
to each number! There is a third coincidence; that one of these two
drawings is said to have been at London, New York, and the other at
London, New Jersey. And lastly, there is a fourth coincidence, viz.,
that neither of these places exists.
Now, what a transparent swindle this is! how plain, how impudent, how
rascally! And all done entirely by the use of the Post Office privileges
of the United States. Try to catch this fellow. You can find where he
mailed his circular; but he probably stopped there over night to do so,
and nobody knew it. In each circular, he wrote to his dupes to address
him at that new "more central location" that he struggles after so hard;
and how is the pursuer to find it? Would anybody naturally go and watch
the Post Office at Bronxville, New York, for instance, as a particularly
central location for business?
Besides, no one person is cheated out of enough to make him follow up
the affair, and probably nobody who sends the cash wants to say much
about it afterward. He wants to wait and show the prize!
These dirty sharking traps will always be set, and will always catch
silly people, as long as there are any to catch. The only means of
stopping such trickery is to diffuse the conviction that the best way to
get a living is, to go to work like a man and earn it honestly.
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.
The readiness with which people will send off their money to a swindler
is perfectly astounding. It does really seem as if an independent
fortune could be made simply by putting forth circulars and
advertisements, requesting the receiver to send five dollars to the
advertiser, and saying that "it will be all right."
I have already given an account of the way in which lottery dealers
operate. From among the same pile of documents which I used then, I have
selected a few others, as instances in part, of a class of humbugs
sometimes of a kind even far more noxious, and which show that their
devisers and patrons are not only sharpers or fools, but often also very
cold-blooded villains or very nasty ones. Some of them are managed by
printed circulars and written letters, such as those before me; some of
them by newspaper advertisements. Some are only to cheat you out of
money, and others offer in return for money some base gratification. But
whatever means are used, and whatever purpose is sought, they are all
alike in one thing--they depend entirely on the monstrous number of
simpletons who will send money to people they know nothing about.
Of the nasty ones, I can give no details. Vile books, pictures, etc.,
are from time to time advertised, sold, and forwarded, by circular, and
through the mails, and for large prices.
There have been some cases where a funny sort of swindle has been
effected by these peddlers of pruriency, by selling some dirty-minded
dupe a cheap good book, at the extravagant price of a dear bad one. More
than one foolish youth has received, instead of the vile thing that he
sent five dollars for, a nice little New Testament. It is obvious that
no very loud complaints are likely to be made about such cheating as
that. It is, perhaps, one of the safest swindles ever contrived.
The first document which I take from my pile is the announcement of a
fellow who operates lottery-wise. His scheme appeals at once to
benevolence and to greediness. He says: "The profits of the distribution
are to be given to the Sanitary Commission;" and secondly, "Every ticket
brings a prize of at least its full value, and some of them $5,000."
If, therefore you won't buy tickets for filthy lucre's sake, buy for the
sake of our soldiers.
"But," somebody says, "how can you afford this arrangement, which is a
direct loss of the whole cost of working your lottery, and moreover of
the whole value of all prizes costing more than a ticket?"
"Oh," replies our benevolent friend, "a number of manufacturers in New
England have asked me to do this, and the prizes are given by them as
friends of the soldier."
One observation will sufficiently show what an impudent mess of lies
this story is, namely;--If the manufacturers of New England wanted to
give money to the Sanitary Commission, they would give money; if goods,
they would give goods. They certainly would not put their gifts through
the additional roundabout, useless nonsense of a lottery, which is to
turn over only the same amount of funds to the Commission.
The next document is a circular sent from a Western town by a fellow who
claims also to be a master of arts, doctor of medicines, and doctor of
laws, but whose handwriting and language are those of a stable-boy. This
chap sends round a list of two hundred and fifty recipes at various
prices, from twenty-five cents to a dollar each. Send him the money for
any you wish, and he promises to return you the directions for making
the stuff. You are then to go about and peddle it, and swiftly become
independently rich. You can begin with a dollar, he says; in two days
make fifty dollars, and then sweep on in a grand career of affluence,
making from $75 to $200 a day, "if you are industrious." What is
petroleum to this? It is a mercy that we don't all turn to and peddle to
each other; we should all get too rich to speak!
The fellow, out of pure kindness and desire for your good, recommends
you to buy all his recipes, as then you will be sure to sell something
to everybody. Most of these recipes are for sufficiently harmless
purposes--shaving-soap, cement, inks--"five gallons of good ink for
fifteen cents"--tooth-powders, etc. Some of them are arrant nonsense;
such as "tea--better than the Chinese," which is as if he promised
something wetter than water; "to make thieves' vinegar;" "prismatic
diamond crystals for windows;" "to make yellow butter"--is the butter
blue where the man lives? Others are of a sort calculated to attract
foolish rustic rascals who would like to gain an easy living by
cheating, if they were only smart enough. Thus, there is "Rothschild's
great secret; or how to make common gold." My readers shall have a
better recipe than this swindler's--work hard, think hard, be honest,
and spend little--this will "make common gold," and this is all the
secret Rothschild ever had. A number of these recipes are barefaced
quackeries; such as cures for consumption, cancer, rheumatism, and
sundry other diseases; to make whiskers and mustaches grow--ah, boys,
you can't hurry up those things. Greasing your cheeks is just as good as
trying to whistle the hair out, but not a bit better. Don't hurry; you
will be old quite soon enough! But this fellow is ready for old fools as
well young ones, for he has recipes for curing baldness and removing
wrinkles. And last, but not least, quietly inserted among all these
fooleries and harmless humbugs, are two or three recipes which promise
the safe gratification of the basest vices. Those are what he really
hoped to get money for.
I have carefully refrained from giving any names or information which
would enable anybody to address any of these folks. I do not propose to
cooperate with them, if I know it.
The next is a circular only to be very briefly alluded to: it promises
to furnish, on receipt of the price, and "by mail or express, with
perfect safety, so as to defy detection," any of twenty-two wholly
infamous books, and various other cards and commodities, well suited to
the public of Sodom and Gomorrah, etc. The most honest and decent things
advertised in this unclean list are "advantage-cards" which enable the
player to swindle his adversary by reading off his hand by the backs of
the cards.
The next paper I can copy verbatim, except some names, etc., is a letter
as follows:
"Dear Sir--There is a Package in My care for a Mrs. preston New Griswold
wich thare is 48 cts. fratage. Pleas forward the same. I shall send it
Per Express Your recpt."
It is some little comfort to know that this gentleman, who is so much
opposed to the present prevailing methods of spelling, lost the three
cents which he invested in seeking "fratage." But a good many sensible
people have carelessly sent away the small amounts demanded by letters
like the above, and have wondered why their prepaid parcels never came.
Next, is an account by a half amused and half indignant eye-witness, of
what happened in a well known town in Western New York, on Friday,
January 6, 1865. A personage described as "dressed in Yankee style,"
drove into the principal street of the place with a horse and buggy, and
began to sell what is called in some parts of New England "Attleboro,"
that is, imitation jewelry, but promising to return the customers their
money, if required, and doing so. After a number of transactions of this
kind, he bawls out, like the sorcerer in Aladdin, who went around
crying new lamps for old, "Who will give me four dollars for this
five-dollar greenback?"
He found a customer; sold a one-dollar greenback for ninety cents; then
sold some half-dollar bills for twenty-five cents each; then flung out
among the crowd what a fisherman would call ground bait, in the shape of
a handful of "currency."
Everybody scrambled for the money. This liberal trader now drove slowly
a little way along, and the crowd pressed after him.
He now began, without any further promises, to sell a lot of bogus
lockets at five dollars each, and in a few minutes had disposed of about
forty. Having, therefore, about two hundred dollars in his pocket, and
trade slackening, he coolly observes, with a terseness and clearness of
oratory that would not discredit General Sherman:
"Gentlemen--I have sold you those goods at my price. I am a licensed
peddler. If I give you your money back you will think me a lunatic. I
wish you all success in your ordinary vocations! Good morning!"
And sure enough, he drove off. That same cunning chap has actually made
a small fortune in this way. He really is licensed as a peddler, and
though arrested more than once, has consequently not been found legally
punishable.
I will specify only one more of my collection, of yet another kind. This
is a printed circular appealing to a class of fools, if possible, even
shallower, sillier, and more credulous than any I have named yet. It is
headed "The Gypsies' Seven Secret Charms." These charms consist of a
kind of hellbroth or decoction. You are to wet the hands and the
forehead with them, and this is to render you able to tell what any
person is thinking of; upon taking any one by the hand, you will be able
to entirely control the mind and will of such person (it is unnecessary
to specify the purpose intended to be believed possible). These charms
are also to enable you to buy lucky lottery-tickets, discover things
lost or hid, dream correctly of the future, increase the intellectual
faculties, secure the affections of the other sex, etc. These precious
conceits are set forth in a ridiculous hodge-podge of statements. The
"charms," it says, were used by the "Anted_e_luvians;" were the secret
of the Egyptian enchanters and of Moses, too; of the Pythoness and the
heathen conjurors and humbugs generally; and (which will be news to the
geographers of to-day) "are used by the Psyli (the swindler mis-spells
again) of South America to charm Beasts, Birds, and Serpents." The way
to control the mind, he says, was discovered by a French traveler named
Tunear. This Frenchman is perhaps a relative of the equally celebrated
Russian traveller, Toofaroff.
But here is the point, after all. You send the money, we will say, for
one of these charms--for they are for sale separately. You receive in
return a second circular, saying that they work a great deal better all
together, and so the man will send you all of them when you send the
rest of the money. Send it, if you choose!
Now, how is it possible for people to be living among us here, who are
fooled by such wretched balderdash as this? There are such, however, and
a great many of them. I do not imagine that there are many of these
addlepates among my readers; but there is no harm in giving once more a
very plain and easy direction which may possibly save somebody some
money and some mortification. Be content with what you can honestly
earn. Know whom you deal with. Do not try to get money without giving
fair value for it. And pay out no money on strangers' promises, whether
by word of mouth, written letters, advertisements, or printed circulars.
CHAPTER XXIII.
A CALIFORNIA COAL MINE.--A HARTFORD COAL MINE.--MYSTERIOUS SUBTERRANEAN
CANAL ON THE ISTHMUS.
Some twelve years ago or so, in the early days of Californian
immigration, a curious little business humbug came off about six miles
from Monterey. A United States officer, about the year 1850, was on his
way into the interior on a surveying expedition, with a party of men, a
portable forge, a load of coal, and sundry other articles. At the place
in question, six miles inland, the Lieutenant's coal wagon "stalled" in
a "tulé" swamp. With true military decision the greater part of the coal
was thrown out to extricate the team, and not picked up again. The
expedition went on and so did time, and the latter, in his progress, had
some years afterward dried up the tulé swamp. Some enterprising
prospectors, with eyes wide open to the nature of things, now espied one
fine morning the lumps of coal, sticking their black noses up out of the
mud. It was a clear case--there was a coal mine there! The happy
discoverers rushed into town. A company was at once organized under the
mining laws of the state of California. The corporators at first kept
the whole matter totally secret except from a few particular friends who
were as a very great favor allowed to buy stock for cash. A "compromise"
was made with the owner of the land, largely to his advantage. When
things had thus been set properly at work, specimens of coal were
publicly exhibited at Monterey. There was a gigantic excitement; shares
went up almost out of sight. Twelve hundred dollars in coin for one
share (par $100) was laughed at. About this time a quiet honest Dutchman
of the vicinity passing along by the "mine" one evening with his cart,
innocently and unconsciously picked up the whole at one single load and
carried it home. Prompt was the discovery of the "sell" by the
stockholders, and voluble and intense, it is said, their profane
expressions of dissatisfaction. But the original discoverers of the mine
vigorously protested that they were "sold" themselves, and that it was
only a case of common misfortune. It is however reported that a number
of persons in Monterey, _after_ the explosion of the speculation,
remembered all about the coal-wagon part of the business, which they
said, the excitement of the "company" had put entirely out of their
heads.
An equally unfounded but not quite so barefaced humbug came off a good
many years ago in the good old city of Hartford, in Connecticut,
according to the account given me by an old gentleman now deceased, who
was one of the parties interested. This was a coal mine in the State
House yard. It sounds like talking about getting sunbeams out of
cucumbers--but something of the sort certainly took place.
Coal is found among rocks of certain kinds, and not elsewhere. Among
strata of granite or basalt for instance, nobody expects to find coal.
But along with a certain kind of sandstone it may reasonably be
expected. Now the Hartford wiseacres found that tremendously far down
under their city, there was _a_ sort of sandstone, and they were sure
that it was _the_ sort. So they gathered together some money,--there is
a vast deal of _that_ in Hartford, coal or no coal--organized a company,
employed a Mining Superintendent, set up a boring apparatus, and down
went their hole into the ground--an orifice some four or six inches
across. Through the surface stratum of earth it went, and bang it came
against the sandstone. They pounded away, with good courage, and got
some fifties or hundreds of feet further. Indefinable sensations were
aroused in their minds at one time by the coming up among the products
of boring, of some chips of wood. Now wood, shortly coal, they thought.
They might, I imagine, have brought up some pieces of boiled potato or
even of fresh shad, provided it had fallen down first. They dug on
until they got tired, and then they stopped. If they had gone down ten
thousand feet they would have found no coal. Coal is found in the new
red sandstone; but theirs was the old red sandstone, which is a very
fine old stone itself, but in which no coal was ever found, except what
might have been put there on purpose, or possibly some faint
indications. The hole they made, however, as my informant gravely
observed, was left sticking in the ground, and if he is right is to this
day a sort of appendix or tail to the well north-west corner of the
State House Square. So, I suppose, any one who chooses can go and poke
down there after it and satisfy himself about the accuracy of this
account. Such an inquirer ought to find satisfaction, for "truth lies in
the bottom of a well" says the proverb. Yet some ill natured skeptics
have construed this to mean that all will tell lies sometimes, for--as
they accent it, even "Truth _lies_, at the bottom of a well!"
Still a different sort of business humbug, again, was a wonderful story
which went the rounds about fifteen years ago, and which was cooked up
to help some one or other of the various enterprises for new routes by
Central America to California. This story started, I believe, in the
"New Orleans Courier." It was, that a French Doctor of Vera Paz in
Guatemala, while making a canal from his estate to the sea, discovered,
away up at the very furthest extremity of the Gulf of Honduras, a vast
ancient canal, two hundred and forty feet wide, seventy feet deep, and
walled in on both sides with gigantic masses of rough cut stone. The
Doctor at once gave up his own trifling modern excavation, and plunged
into an explanation of this vast ancient one, as zealously as if he were
probing after some uncertain bullet in a poor fellow's leg. The
monstrous canal carried him in a straight line up the country, to the
south-westward. Some twenty miles or so inland it plunged under a
_volcano!_
But see what a French doctor is made of!
Cutting down the great, old trees that obstructed the entrance, and
procuring a canoe with a crew of Indians, in he went. The canal became a
prodigious tunnel, of the same width and depth of water, and vaulted
three hundred and thirty five feet high in the living rock. Nothing is
said about the bowels of the volcano, so that we must conclude either
that such affairs are not planted so deep as is supposed, or that the
fire-pot of the concern was shoved one side or bridged over by the
canallers, or that the Frenchman had some remarkably good style of Fire
Annihilator, or else that there is some mistake!
Eighteen hours of incessant travel brought our intrepid M.D. safe
through to the Pacific Ocean; during which time, if the maps of that
country are of any authority, he passed under quite a number of
mountains and rivers. The trip was not dark at all, as shafts were sunk
every little way, which lighted up the interior quite well, and then the
volcano gave--or ought to have given--some light inside. Indeed, if the
doctor had only thought of it, I presume he would have noticed double
rows of street gas lamps on each side of the canal! The exclusive right
to use this excellent transit route has not, to my knowledge, been
secured to anybody yet. It will be observed that ships as large as the
Great Eastern could easily pass each other in this canal, which renders
it a sure thing for any other vessel unless that shrewd and grasping
fellow the Emperor Louis Napoleon, has got hold of this canal and is
keeping it dark for some still darker purposes of his own--as for
instance to run his puppet Maximilian into for refuge, when he is run
out of Mexico--it is therefore still in the market. And my publication
of the facts effectually disposes of the Emperor's plan of secrecy, of
course.
IV. MONEY MANIAS.
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE PETROLEUM HUMBUG.--THE NEW YORK AND RANGOON PETROLEUM COMPANY.
Every sham, as has often been said, proves some reality. Petroleum
exists, no doubt, and is an important addition to our national wealth.
But the Petroleum humbug or mania or superstition, or whatever you
choose to call it, is a humbug, just as truly, and a big one, whether we
use the word in its milder or its bitterer sense.
There are more than six hundred petroleum companies. The capital they
call for, is certainly not less than five hundred million dollars. The
money invested in the notorious South Sea Bubble was less than
two-fifths as much--only about $190,000,000.
Now, this petroleum business--very much of it--is just as thorough a
gambling business as any faro bank ever set up in Broadway, or any other
stock speculation ever conjured up in Wall Street--as much so, for
instance, as the well known Parker Vein coal company.
I shall here tell exactly how those well known and enterprising
financiers, Messrs. Peter Rolleum and Diddle Digwell proceeded in
organizing the New-York and Rangoon Petroleum Company, of which all my
readers have seen the advertisements everywhere, and of which the former
is the Vice President and managing officer, and the latter Secretary. In
June 1864, neither of these worthy gentleman was worth a cent. Rolleum
shinned up and down in some commission agency or other, and Digwell had
a small salary as clerk in some insurance or money concern. They barely
earned a living. Now, Rolleum says he is worth $200,000; and Mr.
Secretary Digwell, besides about $10,000 worth of stock in the New York
and Rangoon, has his comfortable salary and his highly respectable
"posish"--to use a little bit of business slang.
Mr. Rolleum was the originator of the scheme, and let Digwell into it;
and together they went to work. They had a few hundred dollars in cash,
no particular credit, an entirely unlimited fund of lies, a good deal of
industry, plausibility, talk, and cheek, considerable acquaintance with
business, and an instinctive appreciation of some of the more selfish
motives commonly influential among men.
First of all, Rolleum made a trip into the oil country. Here, while
picking up some of his ordinary agency business, he looked around among
the wells and oil lands, talking, and examining and inquiring of
everybody about everything, with a busy, solemn face, and the air of one
who does _not wish_ it to be supposed that he has important interests in
his care. Then he talked with some men at (we will say) Titusville and
thereabouts; told all about his valuable business connections in New
York City: and after getting a little acquainted, he laid before each
of half-a-dozen or so of them, this proposition:
"You can have a good many shares of a first class new oil company about
to be formed just for permitting your name to be used in its interest,
and for being a trustee." A thousand shares apiece, he said; to be
valued at five dollars each, the par value however, being ten dollars.
Five thousand dollars each man, and to be made ten thousand, as soon as
the proposed puffing should enable them to sell out. After a little
hesitation, a sufficient number consented. There was nothing to pay,
something handsome to get, and all they were asked for it was, to let a
man talk about them. What if he did lie? That was his business.
This fixed four out of the nine intended trustees.
Rolleum also obtained memoranda or printed circulars showing the amounts
for which a number of oil land owners would sell their holes in the
ground or the room for making others, and describing the premises. He
now flew back to New York, and went to sundry persons of some means and
some position but of no great nobility, and thus he said:
"Here are these wealthy and distinguished oil men right there on the
ground who are going to be trustees of my new company.
"You serve too, won't you? One thousand shares for your trouble--five
thousand dollars. No money to pay--I will see to all that. Here are the
lands we can buy,"--and he showed his lists. The bribe, and the names of
those already bribed, influenced them, and this secured three more
trustees. Two more were needed, namely the President and Vice
President. Rolleum himself was to be the latter; his next move was to
secure the former.
This, the most critical part of the scheme, was cunningly delayed until
this time. Rolleum went to the Honorable A. Bee, a gentleman of a good
deal of ability, pretty widely known, not very rich, believed (perhaps
for that reason) to be honest, no longer young, and of a reverend yet
agreeable presence. Him the plausible Rolleum told all about the new
Company; what a respectable board of trustees there was going to be--and
he showed the names; all either experienced and substantial men of the
oil country, or reputable business men of New York City. And they have
agreed to serve, in part because they know what a very honest company
this is, and still more because they hope that the Honorable A. Bee will
become President.
"My dear Sir," urged Rolleum, sweetly, "this legitimate business
enterprise _must_ succeed, and _must_ secure wealth, reputation, and
influence to all connected with it. We know that you are above pecuniary
considerations, and that you do not need our influence, or anybody's. We
need yours. And you need not do any work. I will do that. We only need
your name. And merely as a matter of form, because the officers are
expected to be interested in their own company, I have set apart two
thousand shares, being at half par or $5 a share, $10,000 of stock, to
stand in your name. See how respectable all these Trustees are!" And he
showed the list and preached upon the items of it.
"This man is worth so many millions, that man is such an influential
editor. Could I have obtained such names if this were not a perfectly
square thing?"
Ten thousand dollars will go some ways towards squaring almost anything,
with many people, even if it is a mere matter of form; and so the old
gentleman consented. This fixed the whole official "slate."
Now to set up the machine.
In a few days of sharp running and talking, Rolleum and Digwell
accomplished this, as follows:
_First_, they hired and furnished handsomely, paying cash whenever they
couldn't help it, a couple of pleasant first floor rooms close to Wall
Street. No dingy desk-room up in some dark corner or attic, for them.
Respectability is the thing for Rolleum.
_Second_, they hired a lawyer to draft the proper papers, and had the
New York and Rangoon Petroleum Company "Duly incorporated under the
mining and statute laws of the State of New York," with charter,
by-laws, seal, officers' names, and everything fine, new, grand,
magnificent, impressive, formal, respectable and business-like.
_Third_, they now had every requisite of a powerful, enterprising and
highly successful corporation, except the small trifles of money, land
and oil. But what are these, to such geniuses as Rolleum and Digwell?
Singular if having invented and set the trap, they could not catch the
birds!
They _bought_ about three pints of oil, for one dollar; and that settled
one part of the question. They bought it ready sorted and vialled and
labelled; some crude and green, some yellowish, some limpid as water,
half a dozen or so of different specimens. These, in their tall vials of
most respectable appearance, they placed casually on the mantel-piece of
the outer office. They were specimens of the oils which the company's
wells are confidently expected to yield--when they get 'em!
Last of all--land and money. Subscriptions to capital stock are to
furnish money, money will buy land. And _saying we've got land_ will
procure subscriptions.
"It's not much of a lie, after all," said Rolleum, confidentially, to
brother Digwell. "When we've _said_ we've got it for awhile, we _shall_
get it. It's not a lie at all. It's only discounting the truth at sixty
days!"
So he and Digwell went to work and made a splendid prospectus and
advertisement, the latter an abridged edition of the former. This
prospectus was a great triumph of business lying mixed with plums and
spices of truth, and all set forth with taking "display lines."
It began with a stately row of names: New York and Rangoon Petroleum
Company; Honorable Abraham Bee, President; Peter Rolleum, Esq., Vice
President; Diddle Digwell, Esq., Secretary; and so on. With cool
impudence it then gave a list headed "Lands and Property"--not saying
"of the Company" for fear of a prosecution for swindling. But the list
below began with the words "the oil lands _to be conveyed_ to the
Company are as follows:" "that's exactly it" quoth Rolleum--"no lie
there, at any rate. They _are_ to 'to be conveyed' to us--if we
choose--just as soon as we can pay for them." And then the list went on
from "No. 1" to "No. 43," giving in a row all those memoranda which
Rolleum had obtained in Venango County and the region round about, of
the descriptions of the real estate which the landsharks up there would
be glad to sell for what they asked for it.
The Prospectus said the capital of the company was one million dollars,
in one hundred thousand shares at ten dollars each. But _in order to
obtain a_ WORKING CAPITAL, twenty thousand shares are offered for a
_limited period_ at five dollars each, not subject to further
assessment.
And it added, though with more phrases, something to the following
effect: Hurry! Pay quick! Or you will lose your chance! In conclusion
the whole was wound up with many wise and moral observations about
legitimate business, interests of stockholders, heavy capitalists,
economical management, and other such things; and it bestowed some
rather fat compliments upon the honorable Abraham Bee and the Trustees.
Having concocted this choice morsel of bait, they set it in the great
stream of newspapers, there to catch fish. In plain terms, with some
cash and some credit--for their means would not even reach to pay in
advance the whole of their first advertising bill--they managed to have
their advertisement published during several weeks in a carefully chosen
group of about thirty of the principal newspapers of the United States.
The whole web was now woven; and Rolleum and Digwell, like two hungry
spiders, squatted in their den, every nerve thrilling to feel the first
buzz of the first fly. It was natural that the scamps should feel a
good deal excited: it was life or death with them. If a confiding
public, in answer to their impassioned appeal, should generously remit,
they were made men for life. If not, instead of being rich and respected
gentlemen, they were ridiculous, detected swindlers.
Well--they succeeded. So truthful is our Great American Nation--so
confiding, so sure of the truth of what is said in print, even if only
in the advertising columns of a newspaper--so certain of the good faith
of people who have their names printed in large capitals and with a
handle at one end--that actually these fellows had a hundred thousand
dollars in bank within ten weeks--before they owned one foot of land, or
one inch of well, or one drop of oil, except those three pints in the
vials on the office shelf!
And remember this is no imaginary case. I am giving point by point the
exact transactions of a real Petroleum Company.
Everything I have told was done, only if possible with a more false and
baseless impudence than I have described. And scores and scores of other
Petroleum Companies have been organized in ways exactly as unprincipled.
Some of them may perhaps have proceeded as real business concerns. Some
have stopped and disappeared as soon as the managers could get a
handsome sum of money into their pockets for stock.
What the result will be, in the present case, I don't know. The New York
and Rangoon Petroleum Company, when I last knew about it, "still lived."
They had--or said they had--bought some land. I have not heard of their
receiving any oil raised from their own wells. They have sent off a
monstrous quantity of circulars, prospectuses and advertisements. They
caused a portrait and biography of the Honorable A. Bee to be printed in
a very respectable periodical, and paid five hundred dollars for it.
They had themselves systematically puffed up to the seventh heaven in a
long series of articles in another periodical, and paid the owner of it
$2,000 or so _in stock_. They talk very big about a dividend. But
although they have received a great deal of money, and paid out a great
deal, I do not know of their paying their stockholders any yet. If they
should, it would not prove much. For it is sometimes considered "a good
dodge" to declare and pay a large dividend before any real profits have
been earned; as this is calculated to enhance the price of shares, and
to make them "go off like hot cakes."
I shall not make any "moral" about this story. It teaches its own. It is
a very mild statement of what was done to establish an actual
specimen,--and far from being of the worst description--of a great part
of the Petroleum Company enterprises of the day.
It is whispered that somehow or other the trustees and officers of the
New York and Rangoon do not own so much stock of their company as they
did, having managed to have their stock sold to subscribers as if it
were company stock. If this is so, those gentlemen have made their
reward sure; and Mr. Peter Rolleum, having the cash in hand for that
very liberal allotment of stock which he gave himself for his trouble in
getting up the New York and Rangoon Petroleum Company, is very likely
half or a quarter as rich as he says.
CHAPTER XXV.
THE TULIPOMANIA.
Alboni, the singer, had an exquisitely sweet voice, but was a very big
fat woman. Somebody accordingly remarked that she was an elephant that
had swallowed a nightingale. About as incongruous is the idea of a
nation of damp, foggy, fat, full-figured, broad-sterned, gin-drinking,
tobacco-smoking Dutchmen in Holland, going crazy over a flower. But they
did so, for three or four years together. Their craze is known in
history as the Tulipomania, because it was a mania about tulips.
Just a word about the Dutchmen first.
These stout old fellows were not only hardy navigators, keen
discoverers, ingenious engineers, laborious workmen, able financiers,
shrewd and rich merchants, enthusiastic patriots and tremendous
fighters, but they were eminently distinguished (as they still are to a
considerable extent) by a love of elegant literature, poetry, painting,
music and other fine arts, including horticulture. It was a Fleming that
invented painting in oils. Before him, white of egg was used, or
gum-water, or some such imperfect material, for spreading the color.
Erasmus, one of the most learned, ready-minded, acute, graceful and
witty scholars that ever lived, was a Dutchman. All Holland and
Flanders, in days when they were richer, and stronger compared with the
rest of the world than they are now, were full of singing societies and
musical societies and poetry making societies. The universities of
Leyden and Utrecht and Louvain are of highly an ancient European fame.
And as for flowers, and bulbs in particular, Holland is a principal home
and market of them now, more than two hundred years after the time I am
going to tell of.
Tulips grow wild in Southern Russia, the Crimea and Asia Minor, as
potatoes do in Peru. The first tulip in Christian Europe was raised in
Augsburg, in the garden of a flower-loving lawyer, one Counsellor
Herwart, in the year 1559, thirteen years after Luther died. This tulip
bulb was sent to Herwart from Constantinople. For about eighty years
after this the flower continually increased in repute and became more
and more known and cultivated, until the fantastic eagerness of the
demand for fine ones and the great prices that they brought, resulted in
a real mania like that about the morus multicaulis, or the petroleum
mania of to-day, but much more intense. It began in the year 1635, and
went out with an explosion in the year 1837.
This tulip business is, I believe, the only speculative excitement in
history whose subject-matter did not even claim to have any real value.
Petroleum is worth some shillings a gallon for actual use for many
purposes. Stocks always claim to represent some real trade or business.
The morus multicaulis was to be as permanent a source of wealth as corn,
and was expected to produce the well known mercantile substance of silk.
But nobody ever pretended that tulips could be eaten, or manufactured,
or consumed in any way of practical usefulness. They have not one single
quality of the kind termed useful. They have nothing desirable except
the beauty of a peculiarly short-lived blossom. You can do absolutely
nothing with them except to look at them. A speculation in them is
exactly as reasonable as one in butterflies would be.
In the course of about one year, 1634-5, the tulip frenzy, after having
increased for fifteen or twenty years with considerable speed, came to a
climax, and poisoned the whole Dutch nation. Prices had at the end of
this short period risen from high to extravagant, and from extravagant
to insane. High and low, counts, burgomasters, merchants, shop-keepers,
servants, shoe-blacks, all were buying and selling tulips like mad. In
order to make the commodity of the day accessible to all, a new weight
was invented, called a perit, so small that there were about eight
thousand of them in one pound avoirdupois, and a single tulip root
weighing from half an ounce to an ounce, would contain from 200 to 400
of these perits. Thus, anybody unable to buy a whole tulip, could buy a
perit or two, and have what the lawyers call an "undivided interest" in
a root. This way of owning shows how utterly unreal was the pretended
value. For imagine a small owner attempting to take his own perits and
put them in his pocket. He would make a little hole in the tulip-root,
would probably kill it, and would certainly obtain a little bit of
utterly worthless pulp for himself, and no value at all. There was a
whole code of business regulations made to meet the peculiar needs of
the tulip business, besides, and in every town were to be found
"tulip-notaries," to conduct the legal part of the business, take
acknowledgments of deeds, note protests, &c.
To say that the tulips were worth their weight in gold would be a very
small story. It would not be a very great exaggeration to say that they
were worth their size in diamonds. The most valuable species of all was
named "Semper Augustus," and a bulb of it which weighed 200 perits, or
less than half an ounce avoirdupois, was thought cheap at 5,500 florins.
A florin may be called about 40 cents; so that the little brown root was
worth $2,200, or 220 gold eagles, which would weigh, by a rough
estimate, eight pounds four ounces, or 132 ounces avoirdupois. Thus this
half ounce Semper Augustus was worth--I mean he would bring--two hundred
and sixty-four times his weight in gold!
There were many cases where people invested whole fortunes equal to
$40,000 or $50,000 in collections of forty or fifty tulip roots. Once
there happened to be only two Semper Augustuses in all Holland, one in
Haarlem and one in Amsterdam. The Haarlem one was sold for twelve acres
of building lots, and the Amsterdam one for a sum equal to $1,840,00,
together with a new carriage, span of grey horses and double harness,
complete.
Here is the list of merchandise and estimated prices given for one root
of the Viceroy tulip. It is interesting as showing what real merchandise
was worth in those days by a cash standard, aside from its exhibition of
tremendous speculative bedlamism:
160 bushels wheat $179,20
320 bushels rye 223,20
Four fat oxen 192,00
Eight fat hogs 96,00
Twelve fat sheep 48,00
Two hogsheads wine 28,00
Four tuns beer 12,80
Two tuns butter 76,80
1000 lbs. cheese 48,00
A bed all complete 40,00
One suit clothes 32,00
A silver drinking cup 24,00
---------
Total exactly $1,000,00
In 1636, regular tulip exchanges were established in the nine Dutch
towns where the largest tulip business was done, and while the gambling
was at its intensest, the matter was managed exactly as stock gambling
is managed in Wall street to-day. You went out into "the street" without
owning a tulip or a perit of a tulip in the world, and met another
fellow with just as many tulips as yourself. You talk and "banter" with
him, and finally (we will suppose) you "sell short" ten Semper
Augustuses, "seller three," for $2,000 each, in all $20,000. This means
in ordinary English, that without having any tulips (i. e., short,) you
promise to deliver the ten roots as above in three days from date. Now
when the three days are up, if Semper Augustuses are worth in the market
only $1,500, you could, if this were a real transaction, buy ten of them
for $15,000, and deliver them to the other gambler for $20,000, thus
winning from him the difference of $5,000. But if the roots have risen
and are worth $2,500 each, then if the transactions were real you would
have to pay $25,000 for the ten roots and could only get $20,000 from
the other gambler, and he, turning round and selling them at the market
price, would win from you this difference of $5,000. But in fact the
transaction was not real, it was a stock gambling one; neither party
owned tulips or meant to, or expected the other to; and the whole was a
pure game of chance or skill, to see which should win and which should
lose that $5,000 at the end of three days. When the time came, the
affair was settled, still without any tulips, by the loser paying the
difference to the winner, exactly as one loses what the other wins at a
game of poker or faro. Of course if you can set afloat a smart lie after
making your bargain, such as will send prices up or down as your profit
requires, you make money by it, just as stock gamblers do every day in
New York, London, Paris, and other Christian commercial cities.
While this monstrous Dutch gambling fury lasted, money was plenty,
everybody felt rich and Holland was in a whiz of windy delight. After
about three years of fool's paradise, people began to reflect that the
shuttlecock could not be knocked about in the air forever, and that when
it came down somebody would be hurt. So first one and then another began
quietly to sell out and quit the game, without buying in again. This
cautious infection quickly spread like a pestilence, as it always does
in such cases, and became a perfect panic or fright. All at once, as it
were, rich people all over Holland found themselves with nothing in the
world except a pocket full or a garden-bed full of flower roots that
nobody would buy and that were not good to eat, and would not have made
more than one tureen of soup if they were.
Of course this state of things caused innumerable bankruptcies,
quarrels, and refusals to complete bargains, everywhere. The government
and the courts were appealed to, but with Dutch good sense they refused
to enforce gambling transactions, and though the cure was very severe
because very sudden, they preferred to let "the bottom drop out" of the
whole affair at once. So it did. Almost everybody was either ruined or
impoverished. The very few who had kept any or all of their gains by
selling out in season, remained so far rich. And the vast actual
business interests of Holland received a damaging check, from which it
took many years to recover.
There were some curious incidents in the course of the tulipomania. They
have been told before, but they are worth telling again, as the poet
says, "To point the moral or adorn the tale."
A sailor brought to a rich Dutch merchant news of the safe arrival of a
very valuable cargo from the Levant. The old hunks rewarded the mariner
for his good tidings with one red herring for breakfast. Now Ben Bolt
(if that was his name--perhaps as he was a Dutchman it was something
like Benje Boltje) was very fond of onions, and spying one on the
counter as he went out of the store, he slipped it into his pocket, and
strolling back to the wharf, sat down to an odoriferous breakfast of
onions and herring. He munched away without finding anything unusual in
the flavor, until just as he was through, down came Mr. Merchant,
tearing along like a madman at the head of an excited procession of
clerks, and flying upon the luckless son of Neptune, demanded what he
had carried off besides his herring?
"An onion that I found on the counter."
"Where is it? Give it back instantly!"
"Just ate it up with my herring, mynheer."
Wretched merchant! In a fury of useless grief he apprised the sailor
that his sacrilegious back teeth had demolished a Semper Augustus
valuable enough, explained the unhappy old fellow, to have feasted the
Prince of Orange and the Stadtholder's whole court. "Thieves!" he cried
out--"Seize the rascal!" So they did seize him, and he was actually
tried, condemned and imprisoned for some months, all of which however
did not bring back the tulip root. It is a question after all in my
mind, whether that sailor was really as green as he pretended, and
whether he did not know very well what he was taking. It would have been
just like a reckless seaman's trick to eat up the old miser's twelve
hundred dollar root, to teach him not to give such stingy gifts next
time.
An English traveller, very fond of botany, was one day in the
conservatory of a rich Dutchman, when he saw a strange bulb lying on a
shelf. With that extreme coolness and selfishness which too many
travellers have exercised, what does he do but take out his penknife
and carefully dissect it, peeling off the outer coats, and quartering
the innermost part, making all the time a great many wise observations
on the phenomena of the strange new root. In came the Dutchman all at
once, and seeing what was going on, he asked the Englishman, with rage
in his eyes, but with a low bow and that sort of restrained formal
civility which sometimes covers the most furious anger, if he knew what
he was about?
"Peeling a very curious onion," answered Mr. Traveller, as calmly as if
one had a perfect right to destroy other people's property to gratify
his own curiosity.
"One hundred thousand devils!" burst out the Dutchman, expressing the
extent of his anger by the number of evil spirits he invoked--"It is an
Admiral van der Eyck!"
"Indeed?" remarked the scientific traveller, "thank you. Are there a
good many of these admirals in your country?" and he drew forth his note
book to write down the little fact.
"Death and the devil!" swore the enraged Dutchman again--"come before
the Syndic and you shall find out all about it!" So he collared the
astounded onion-peeler, and despite all he could say, dragged him
straightway before the magistrate, where his scientific zeal suffered a
dreadful quencher in the shape of an affidavit that the "onion" was
worth four thousand florins--about $1600--and in the immediate judgment
of the Court, which "considered" that the prisoner be forthwith clapt
into jail until he should give security for the amount. He had to do so
accordingly, and doubtless all his life retained a distaste for
Dutchmen and Dutch onions.
These stories about such monstrous valuations of flower roots recall to
my mind another anecdote which I shall tell, not because it has anything
to do with tulips, but because it is about a Dutchman, and shows in
striking contrast an equally low valuation of human life. It is this.
Once, in time of peace, an English and a Dutch Admiral met at sea, each
in his flag ship, and for some reason or other exchanged complimentary
salutes. By accident, one of the Englishman's guns was shotted and
misdirected, and killed one of the Dutch crew. On hearing the fact the
Englishman at once manned a boat and went to apologize, to inquire about
the poor fellow's family and to send them some money, provide for the
funeral, etc., etc., as a kind hearted man would naturally do. But the
Dutch commander, on meeting him at the quarter-deck, and learning his
errand, at once put all his kindly intentions completely one side,
saying in imperfect English:
"It'sh no matter, it'sh no matter--_dere's blaanty more Tutchmen in
Holland_!"
CHAPTER XXVI.
JOHN BULL'S GREAT MONEY HUMBUG.--THE SOUTH SEA BUBBLE IN 1720.
The "South Sea Bubble" is one of the most startling lessons which
history gives us of the ease with which the most monstrous, and absurd,
and wicked humbugs can be crammed down the throat of poor human nature.
It ought also to be a useful warning of the folly of mere "speculation,"
as compared with real "business undertakings." The history of the South
Sea Bubble has been told, before, but it is too prominent a case to be
entirely passed over. It occupied a period of about eight months, from
February 1, 1720, to the end of the following September. It was an
unreasonable expansion of the value of the stock of the "South Sea
Company." This Company was formed in 1711; its stock was at first about
$30,000,000, subscribed by the public and handed over by the corporators
to Government to meet certain troublesome public debts. In return,
Government guaranteed the stockholders a dividend of six per cent., and
gave the Company sundry permanent important duties and a monopoly of all
trade to the South Pacific, or "South Sea." This matter went on with
fair success as a money enterprise, until the birth of the "Bubble,"
which was as follows:--In the end of January, 1720, probably in
consequence of catching infection from "Law's Mississippi Scheme" in
France, the South Sea Company and the Bank of England made competing
propositions to the English Government, to repeat the original South Sea
Company financiering plan on a larger scale. The proposition of the
Company, which was accepted by Government, was: to assume as before the
whole public debt, now amounting to over one hundred and fifty millions
of dollars; and to be guaranteed at first a five per cent. dividend, and
afterward a four per cent. one, to the stockholders by Government. For
this privilege, the Company agreed to pay outright a bonus of more than
seventeen million dollars. This plan is said to have been originated and
principally carried through by Sir John Blunt, one of the Company's
directors. Parliament adopted it after two months' discussion--the
Bubble having, however, been swelling monstrously all the time.
It must be remembered that the wonderful profits expected from the
Company were to come from their monopoly of the South Sea trade.
Tremendous stories were told by Blunt and his friends, who can hardly
have believed more than one half of their own talk, about a free trade
with all the Spanish Pacific colonies, the importation of silver and
gold from Peru and Mexico in return for dry goods, etc., etc.; all which
fine things were going to produce two or three times the amount of the
Company's stock every year. When the bill authorizing the arrangement
passed, South Sea stock had already reached a price of four hundred per
cent. The bill was stoutly opposed in Parliament by Mr.--afterwards
Sir--Robert Walpole, and a few others but in vain. Under the operation
of the beautiful stories of the speculative Blunt and his friends, South
Sea stock, after a short lull in April, began to rise again, and the
bubble swelled and swelled to a size so monstrous, and with colors so
gay, that it filled the whole horizon of poor foolish John
Bull:--perfectly turned his bull-headed brain, and made him for the time
absolutely crazy. The directors opened books on April 12th for
£5,000,000 new stock, charging, however, £300 for each share of £100,
or three hundred per cent. to begin with. Double the amount was
subscribed in a few days; that is, John Bull subscribed thirty million
dollars for ten millions of stock, where only five millions were to be
had. In a few days more, these subscribers were selling at double what
they paid. April 21st, a ten per cent. dividend was voted for midsummer.
In a day or two, another five million subscription was opened at four
hundred per cent. to begin with. The whole, and half as much more, was
taken in a few hours. In the end of May, South Sea stock was worth five
hundred to one. On the 28th, it was five hundred and fifty. In four days
more, for some reason or other, it jumped up to eight hundred and
ninety. The speculating Blunt kept all this time blowing and blowing at
his bubble. All summer, he and his friends blew and blew; and all summer
the bubble swelled and floated, and shone; and high and low, men and
women, lords and ladies, clergymen, princesses and duchesses, merchants,
gamblers, tradesmen, dressmakers, footmen, bought and sold. In the
beginning of August, South Sea stock stood at one thousand per cent! It
was really worth about twenty-five per cent. The crowding in Exchange
Alley, the Wall street of the day, was tremendous. So noisy, and
unmanageable and excited was this mob of greedy fools, that the very
same stock was sometimes selling ten per cent. higher at one end of the
Alley than at the other.
The growth of this monstrous, noxious bubble hatched out a multitude of
young cockatrices. Not only was the stock of the India Company, the Bank
of England, and other sound concerns, much increased in price by
sympathy with this fury of speculation, but a great number of utterly
ridiculous schemes and barefaced swindles were advertised and
successfully imposed on the public. Any piece of paper purporting to be
stock could be sold for money. Not the least thought of investigating
the solvency of advertisers seems to have occurred to anybody. Nor was
any rank free from the poison. Almost a hundred projects were before the
public at once, some of them incredibly brazen humbugs. There were
schemes for a wheel for perpetual motion--capital, $5,000,000; for
trading in hair (for wigs), in those days "a big thing;" for furnishing
funerals to any part of Britain; for "improving the art of making soap;"
for importing walnut-trees from Virginia--capital, $10,000,000; for
insuring against losses by servants--capital, $15,000,000; for making
quicksilver malleable; "Puckle's Machine Company," for discharging
cannon-balls and bullets, both round and square, and so on. One colossal
genius in humbugging actually advertised in these words: "A company for
carrying on an undertaking of great advantage, but nobody to know what
it is." The capital he called for was $2,500,000, in shares of $500
each; deposit on subscribing, $10 per share. Each subscriber was
promised $500 per share per annum, and full particulars were to be given
in a month, when the rest of the subscription was to be paid. This great
financier, having put forth his prospectus, opened his office in
Cornhill next morning at nine o'clock. Crowds pressed upon him. At three
P. M., John Bull had paid this immense humbug $10,000, being deposits
on a thousand shares subscribed for. That night, the financier--a shrewd
man!--modestly retired to an unknown place upon the Continent, and was
never heard of again. Another humbug almost as preposterous, was that of
the "Globe Permits." These were square pieces of playing-cards with a
seal on them, having the picture of the Globe Tavern, and with the
words, "Sailcloth Permits." What they "permitted" was a subscription at
some future period to a sailcloth-factory, projected by a certain
capitalist. These "permits" sold at one time for $300 each.
But the more sensible members of Government soon exerted their influence
against these lesser and more palpable humbugs. Some accounts say that
the South Sea Company itself grew jealous, for it was reckoned that
these "side-shows" called for a total amount of $1,500,000,000, and
itself took legal means against them. At any rate, an "order in council"
was published, peremptorily dismissing and dissolving them all.
During August, it leaked out that Sir John Blunt and some other
"insiders" had sold out their South Sea stock. There was also some
charges of unfairness in managing subscriptions. After so long and so
intense an excitement, the time for reaction and collapse was come. The
price of stock began to fall in spite of all that the directors could
do. September 2, it was down to 700.
A general meeting of the company was held to try to whitewash matters,
but in vain. The stock fell, fell, fell. The great humbug had received
its death-blow. Thousands of families saw beggary staring them in the
face, grasping them with its iron hand. The consternation was
inexpressible. Out of it a great popular rage began to flame up, just as
fires often break out among the prostrate houses of a city ruined by an
earthquake. Efforts were meanwhile vainly made to stay the ruin by help
from the Bank of England. Bankers and goldsmiths (then often doing a
banking business) absconded daily. Business corporations failed. Credit
was almost paralyzed. In the end of September, the stock fell to 175,
150, 135.
Meanwhile violent riots were feared. South Sea directors could not be
seen in the streets without being insulted. The King, then in Hanover,
was imperatively sent for home, and had to come. So extensive was the
misfortune and the wrath of the people, so numerous the public meetings
and petitions from all over the kingdom, that Parliament found it
necessary to grant the public demand, and to initiate a formal inquiry
into the whole enterprise. This was done; and the foolish, swindled,
disappointed, angry nation, through this proceeding, vented all the
wrath it could upon the persons and estates of the managers and officers
of the South Sea Company. They were forbidden to leave the kingdom,
their property was sequestrated, they were placed in custody and
examined. Those of them in Parliament were insulted there to their
faces, several of them expelled, the most violent charges made against
them all. A secret investigating committee was set to rip up the whole
affair. Knight, the treasurer, who possessed all the dangerous secrets
of the concern, ran away to Calais and the Continent, and so escaped.
The books were found to have been either destroyed, secreted, or
mutilated and garbled. Stock bribes of $250,000, $150,000, $50,000 had
been paid to the Earl of Sunderland, the Duchess of Kendal (the King's
favorite,) Mr. Craggs (one of the Secretaries of State,) and others. Mr.
Aislabie, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, had accumulated $4,250,000
and more out of the business. Many other noblemen, gentlemen, and
reputable merchants were disgracefully involved.
The trials that were had resulted in the imprisonment, expulsion or
degradation of Aislabie, Craggs, Sir George Caswell (a banker and member
of the House,) and others. Blunt, a Mr. Stanhope, and a number more of
the chief criminals were stripped of their wealth, amounting to from
$135,000 to $1,200,000 each, and the proceeds used for the partial
relief of the ruined, except amounts left to the culprits to begin the
world anew. Blunt, the chief of all the swindlers, was stripped of about
$925,000, and allowed only $5,000. By this means and by the use of such
actual property as the Company did possess, about one-third of the money
lost by its means was ultimately paid to the losers. It was a long time,
however, before the tone of public credit was thoroughly restored.
The history of the South Sea bubble should always stand as a beacon to
warn us that reckless speculation is the bane of commerce, and that the
only sure method of gaining a fortune, and certainly of enjoying it, is
to diligently prosecute some legitimate calling, which, like the quality
of mercy, is "twice blessed." Every man's occupation should be
beneficial to his fellow-man as well as profitable to himself. All else
is vanity and folly.
CHAPTER XXVII.
BUSINESS HUMBUGS.--JOHN LAW.--THE MISSISSIPPI SCHEME.--JOHNNY CRAPAUD AS
GREEDY AS JOHNNY BULL.
In the "good old times," people were just as eager after money as they
are now; and a great deal more vulgar, unscrupulous, and foolish in
their endeavors to get it. During about two hundred years after the
discovery of America, that continent was a constant source of great and
little money humbugs. The Spaniards and Portuguese and French and
English all insisted upon thinking that America was chiefly made of
gold; perhaps believing, as the man said about Colorado, that the
hardship of the place was, that you have to dig through three or four
feet of solid silver before the gold could be reached. This curious
delusion is shown by the fact that the early charters of lands in
America so uniformly reserved to the King his proportion of all gold and
silver that should be found. And if gold were not to be had, these lazy
Europeans were equally crazy about the rich merchandise which they made
sure of finding in the vast and solitary American mountains and forests.
In a previous letter, I have shown how one of those delusions, about the
unbounded wealth to be obtained from the countries on the South Sea,
caused the English South Sea bubble.
A similar belief, at the same time, in the neighboring country of
France, formed the airy basis of a similar business humbug, even more
gigantic, noxious, and destructive. This was John Law's Mississippi
scheme, of which I shall give an account in this chapter. It was, I
think, the greatest business humbug of history.
Law was a Scotchman, shrewd and able, a really good financier for those
days, but vicious, a gambler, unprincipled, and liable to wild schemes.
He had possessed a good deal of property, had traveled and gambled all
over Europe, was witty, entertaining, and capital company, and had
become a favorite with the Duke of Orleans and other French nobles. When
the Duke became Regent of France at the death of Louis XIV, in 1715,
that country was horribly in debt, and its people in much misery, owing
to the costly wars and flaying taxations of the late King. When,
therefore, Law came to Paris with a promising scheme of finance in his
hand, the Regent was particularly glad to see him, both as financier and
as friend.
The Regent quickly fell in with Law's plans; and in the spring of 1716,
the first step--not, however, so intended at the time--toward the
Mississippi Scheme was taken. This was, the establishment by royal
authority of the banking firm of Law & Co., consisting of Law and his
brother. This bank, by a judicious organization and issue of paper
money, quickly began to help the distressed finances of the kingdom, and
to invigorate trade and commerce. This success, which seems to have been
an entirely sound and legitimate business success, made one sadly
mistaken but very deep impression upon the ignorant and shallow mind of
the Regent of France, which was the foundation of all the subsequent
trouble. The Regent became firmly convinced, that if a certain quantity
of bank bills could do so much good, a hundred thousand times as many
bills would surely do a hundred thousand times as much. That is, he
thought printing and issuing the bills was creating money. He paid no
regard to the need of providing specie for them on demand, but thought
he had an unlimited money factory in the city of Paris.
So far, so good. Next, Law planned, and, with the ever ready consent of
the Regent, effected, an enlargement of the business of his bank, based
on that delusion I spoke of about America. This enlargement was the
formation of the Mississippi Company, and this was the contrivance which
swelled into so tremendous a humbug. The company was closely connected
with the banks, and received (to begin with) the monopoly of all trade
to the Mississippi River, and all the country west of it. It was
expected to obtain vast quantities of gold and silver from that region,
and thus to make immense dividends on its stock. At home, it was to have
the sole charge of collecting all the taxes and coining all the money.
Stock was issued to the amount of one hundred thousand shares, at $200
(five hundred livres) each. And Law's help to the Government funds was
continued by permitting this stock to be paid for in those funds, at
their par value, though worth in market only about a third of it.
Subscriptions came in rapidly--for the French community was far more
ignorant about commercial affairs, finances, and the real resources of
distant regions, than we can easily conceive of now-a-days; and not only
the Regent, but every man, woman, and child in France, except a very few
tough and hard-headed old skeptics, believed every word Law said, and
would have believed him if he had told stories a hundred times as
incredible.
Well, pretty soon the Regent gave the associates--the bank and the
company--two other monopolies: that of tobacco, always monstrously
profitable, and that of refining gold and silver. Pretty soon, again, he
created the bank a state institution, by the magnificent name of The
Royal Bank of France. Having done this, the Regent could control the
bank in spite of Law (or order either); for, in those days, the kings of
France were almost perfectly despotic, and the Regent was acting king. I
have mentioned the Regent's terrible delusion about paper-money. No
sooner had he the bank in his power, than he added to the reasonable and
useful total of $12,000,000 of notes already out, a monstrous issue of
$200,000,000 worth in one vast batch, with the firm conviction that he
was thus adding so much to the par currency of France.
The Parliament of France, a body mostly of lawyers, originating in the
Middle Ages, a steady, conservative, wise, and brave assembly, was
always hostile to Law and his schemes. When this great expansion of
paper-currency began, the Parliament made a resolute fight against it,
petitioning, ordaining, threatening to hang Law, and frightening him
well, too; for the thorough enmity of an assembly of old lawyers may
well frighten anybody. At last, the Regent, by the use of the despotic
power of which the Kings of France had so much, reduced these old
fellows to silence by sticking a few of them in jail.
The cross-grained Parliament thus disposed of, everything was quickly
made to "look lovely." In the beginning of 1719, more grants were made
to Law's associated concerns. The Mississippi Company was granted the
monopoly of all trade to the East Indies, China, the South Seas, and all
the territories of the French India Company, and of the Senegal Company.
It took a new and imposing name: "The Company of the Indies." They had
already, by the way, also obtained the monopoly of the Canada
beaver-trade. Of this colossal corporation, monopolizing the whole
foreign commerce of France with two-thirds or more of the world, its
whole home finances, and other important interests besides, fifty
thousand new shares were issued, as before, at $100 each. These might be
bought as before, with Government securities at par. Law was so bold as
to promise annual dividends of $20 per share, which, as the Government
funds stood, was one hundred and twenty per cent. per annum.! Everybody
believed him. More than three hundred thousand applications were made
for the new shares. Law was besieged in his house by more than twice as
many people as General Grant had to help him take Richmond. The Great
Humbug was at last in full buzz. The street where the wonderful
Scotchman lived was busy, filled, crowded, jammed, choked. Dangerous
accidents happened in it every day, from the excessive pressure. From
the princes of the blood down to cobblers and lackeys, all men and all
women crowded and crowded to subscribe their money, and to pay their
money, and to know how many shares they had gotten. Law moved to a
roomier street, and the crazy mob crowded harder than ever; so that the
Chancellor, who held his court of law hard by, could not hear his
lawyers.
A tremendous uproar surely, that could drown the voices of those
gentlemen! And so he moved again, to the great Hotel de Soissons, a vast
palace, with a garden of some acres. Fantastic circumstances variegated
the wild rush of speculation. The haughtiest of the nobility rented mean
rooms near Law's abode, to be able to get at him. Rents in his
neighborhood rose to twelve and sixteen times their usual amount. A
cobbler, whose lines had fallen in those pleasant places, made $40 a day
by letting his stall and furnishing writing materials to speculators.
Thieves and disreputable characters of all sorts flocked to this
concourse. There were riots and quarrels all the time. They often had to
send a troop of cavalry to clear the street at night. Gamblers posted
themselves with their implements among the speculators, who gambled
harder than the gamblers, and took an occasional turn at roulette by way
of slackening the excitement; as people go to sleep, or go into the
country. A hunchback fellow made a good deal of money by letting people
write on his back. When Law had moved into the Hotel de Soissons, the
former owner, the Prince de Carignan, reserved the gardens, procured an
edict confining all stock-dealings to that place; put up five hundred
tents there, leased them at five hundred livres a month each, and thus
made money at the rate of $50,000 a month. There were just two of the
aristocracy who were sensible and resolute enough not to speculate in
the stock--the Duke de St. Simon and the old Marshal Villars.
Law became infinitely the most important person in the kingdom. Great
and small, male and female, high and low, haunted his offices and
ante-chambers, hunted him down, plagued his very life out, to get a
moment's speech with him, and get him to enter their names as buyers of
stock. The highest nobles would wait half a day for the chance. His
servants received great sums to announce some visitor's name. Ladies of
the highest rank gave him anything he would ask of them for leave to buy
stock. One of them made her coachmen upset her out of her carriage as
Law came by, to get a word with him. He helped her up; she got the word,
and bought some stock. Another lady ran into the house where he was at
dinner, and raised a cry of fire. The rest ran out, but she ran further
in to reach Law, who saw what she was at, and like a pecuniary Joseph,
ran away as fast as he could.
As the frenzy rose toward its height, and the Regent took advantage of
it to issue stock enough to pay the whole national debt, namely, three
hundred thousand new shares, at $1,000 each, or a thousand per cent. in
the par value. They were instantly taken. Three times as many would have
been instantly taken. So violent were the changes of the market, that
shares rose or fell twenty per cent. within a few hours. A servant was
sent to sell two hundred and fifty shares of stock; found on reaching
the gardens of the Hotel de Soissons, that since he left his master's
house the price had risen from $1,600 (par value $100 remember) to
$2,000. The servant sold, gave his master the proceeds at $1,600 a
share, put the remaining $100,000 in his own pocket, and left France
that evening. Law's coachman became so rich that he left service, and
set up his own coach; and when his master asked him to find a successor,
he brought two candidates, and told Law to choose, and he would take the
other himself. There were many absurd cases of vulgarians made rich.
There were also many robberies and murders. That committed by the Count
de Horn, one of the higher nobility and two accomplices, is a famous
case. The Count, a dissipated rascal, poniarded a broker in a tavern for
the money the broker carried with him. But he was taken, and, in spite
of the utmost and most determined exertions of the nobility, the Regent
had him broken on the wheel in public, like any other murderer.
The stock of the Company of the Indies, though it dashed up and down ten
and twenty per cent. from day to day, was from the first immensely
inflated. In August 1719, it sold at 610 per cent.; in a few weeks more
it arose to 1,200 per cent. All winter it still went up until, in April
1720, it stood at 2,050 per cent. That is, one one-hundred dollar share
would sell for two thousand and fifty dollars.
At this extreme point of inflation, the bubble stood a little, shining
splendidly as bubbles do when they are nearest bursting, and then it
received two or three quiet pricks. The Prince de Conti, enraged because
Law would not send him some shares on his own terms, sent three
wagon-loads of bills to Law's bank, demanding specie. Law paid it, and
complained to the Regent, who made him put two-thirds of it back again.
A shrewd stock-gambler drew specie by small sums until he had about
$200,000 in coin, and lest he should be forced to return it, he packed
it in a cart, covered it with manure, put on a peasant's disguise, and
carted his fortune over the frontiers into Belgium. Some others quietly
realized their means in like manner by driblets and funded them abroad.
By such means coin gradually grew very scarce, and signs of a panic
appeared. The Regent tried to adjust matters by a decree that coin
should be five per cent. less than paper; as much as to say, It is
hereby enacted that there is a great deal more coin than there is!
This did not serve, and the Regent decreed again, that coin should be
worth ten per cent. less than paper. Then he decreed that the bank must
not pay more than $22 at once in specie; and, finally, by a bold stretch
of his authority, he issued an edict that no person should have over
$100 in coin, on pain of fine and confiscation. These odious laws made a
great deal of trouble, spying, and distress, and rapidly aggravated the
difficulty they were meant to cure. The price of shares in the great
company began to fall steadily and rapidly. Law and the Regent began to
be universally hated, cursed, and threatened. Various foolish and vain
attempts were made to stay the coming ruin, by renewing the stories
about Louisiana sending out a lot of conscripted laborers, ordering that
all payments must be made in paper, and printing a new batch of notes,
to the amount of another $300,000,000. Law's two corporations were also
doctored in several ways. The distress and fright grew worse. An edict
was issued that Law's notes and shares should depreciate gradually by
law for a year, and then be worth but half their face. This made such a
tumult and outcry that the Regent had to retract it in seven days. On
this seventh day, Law's bank stopped paying specie. Law was turned out
of his public employments, but still well treated by the Regent in
private. He was, however, mobbed and stoned in his coach in the street,
had to have a company of Swiss Guards in his house, and at last had to
flee to the Regent's own palace.
I have not space to describe in detail the ruin, misery, tumults, loss
and confusion which attended the speedy descent of Law's paper and
shares to entire worthlessness. Thousands of families were made paupers,
and trade and commerce destroyed by the painful process. Law himself
escaped out of France poor; and, after another obscure and disreputable
career of gambling, died in poverty at Venice, in 1729.
Thus this enormous business-humbug first raised a whole nation into a
fool's paradise of imaginary wealth, and then exploded, leaving its
projector and many thousands of victims ruined, the country disturbed
and distressed, long-enduring consequences, in vicious and lawless and
unsteady habits, contracted while the delusion lasted, and no single
benefit except one more most dearly-bought lesson of the wicked folly of
mere speculation without a real business basis and a real business
method. Let not this lesson be lost on the rampant and half-crazed
speculators of the present day. Those who buy gold or flour, leather,
butter, dry goods, groceries, hardware, or anything else on speculation,
when prices are inflated far beyond the ordinary standard, are taking
upon themselves great risks, for the bubble must eventually be pricked;
and whoever is the "holder" when that time comes, must necessarily be
the loser.
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.
Medical humbugs constitute a very critical subject indeed, because I
shall be almost certain to offend some of three parties concerned,
namely; physicians, quacks, and patients. But it will never do to
neglect so important a division of my whole theme as this.
To begin with, it is necessary to suggest, in the most delicate manner
in the world, that there is a small infusion of humbug among the very
best of the regular practitioners. These gentlemen, for whose learning,
kind-heartedness, self-devotion, and skill I entertain a profound
respect, make use of what I may call the gaseous element of their
practice, not for the lucre of gain, but in order to enlist the
imaginations of their patients in aid of nature and great remedies.
The stories are infinite in number, which illustrate the force of
imagination, ranging through all the grades of mental action, from the
lofty visions of good men who dream of seeing heaven opened to them, and
all its ineffable glories and delights, down to the low comedy conceit
of the fellow who put a smoked herring into the tail of his coat and
imagined himself a mermaid.
Probably, however, imagination displays its real power more wonderfully
in the operations of the mind on the body that holds it, than anywhere
else. It is true that there are some people even so utterly without
imagination that they cannot take a joke; such as that grave man of
Scotland who was at last plainly told by a funny friend quite out of
patience, "Why, you wouldn't take a joke if it were fired at you out of
a cannon!"
"Sir," replied the Scot, with sound reasoning and grave thought, "Sir,
you are absurd. You cannot fire a joke out of a cannon!"
But to return: It is certainly the case that frequently "the doctor"
takes great care not to let the patient know what is the matter, and
even not to let him know what he is swallowing. This is because a good
many people, if at a critical point of disease, may be made to turn
toward health if made to believe that they are doing so, but would be
frightened, in the literal sense of the words, to death, if told what a
dangerous state they are in.
One sort of regular practice humbug is rendered necessary by the demands
of the patients. This is giving good big doses of something with a
horrid smell and taste. There are plenty of people who don't believe the
doctor does anything to earn his money, if he does not pour down some
dirty brown or black stuff very nasty in flavor. Some, still more
exacting, wish for that sort of testimony which depends on internal
convulsions, and will not be satisfied unless they suffer torments and
expel stuff enough to quiet the inside of Mount Vesuvius or
Popocatepetl.
"He's a good doctor," was the verdict of one of this class of
leather-boweled fellows--"he'll work your innards for you!"
It is a milder form of this same method to give what the learned faculty
term a placebo. This is a thing in the outward form of medicine, but
quite harmless in itself. Such is a bread-pill, for instance; or a
draught of colored water, with a little disagreeable taste in it. These
will often keep the patient's imagination headed in the right direction,
while good old Dame Nature is quietly mending up the damages in "the
soul's dark cottage."
One might almost fancy that, in proportion as the physician is more
skillful, by so much he gives less medicine, and relies more on
imagination, nature, and, above all, regimen and nursing. Here is a
story in point. There was an old gentleman in Paris, who sold a famous
eye-water, and made much gain thereby. He died, however, one fine day,
and unfortunately forgot to leave the recipe on record. "His
disconsolate widow continued the business at the old stand," however--to
quote another characteristic French anecdote--and being a woman of ready
and decisive mind, she very quietly filled the vials with water from the
river Seine, and lived respectably on the proceeds, finding, to her
great relief, that the eye-water was just as good as ever. At last
however, she found herself about to die, and under the stings of an
accusing conscience she confessed her trick to her physician, an eminent
member of the profession. "Be entirely easy, Madam," said the wise man;
"don't be troubled at all. You are the most innocent physician in the
world; you have done nobody any harm."
It is an old and illiberal joke to compare medicine to war, on the
ground that the votaries of both seek to destroy life. It is, however,
not far from the truth to say that they are alike in this; that they are
both preëminently liable to mistakes, and that in both he is most
successful who makes the fewest.
How can it be otherwise, until we know more than we do at present, of
the great mysteries of life and death? It seems risky enough to permit
the wisest and most experienced physician to touch those springs of life
which God only understands. And it is enough to make the most stupid
stare, to see how people will let the most disgusting quack jangle their
very heartstrings with his poisonous messes, about as soon as if he were
the best doctor in the world. A true physician, indeed, does not hasten
to drug. The great French surgeon, Majendie, is even said to have
commenced his official course of lectures on one occasion by coolly
saying to his students: "Gentlemen, the curing of disease is a subject
that physicians know nothing about." This was doubtless an extreme way
of putting the case. Yet it was in a certain sense exactly true. There
is one of the geysers in Iceland, into which visitors throw pebbles or
turfs, with the invariable result of causing the disgusted geyser in a
few minutes to vomit the dose out again, along with a great quantity of
hot water, steam, and stuff. Now the doctor does know that some of his
doses are pretty sure to work, as the traveler knows that his dose will
work on the geyser. It is only the exact how and why that is not
understood.
But however mysterious is nature, however ignorant the doctor, however
imperfect the present state of physical science, the patronage and the
success of quacks and quackeries are infinitely more wonderful than
those of honest and laborious men of science and their careful
experiments.
I have come about to the end of my tether for this time; and quackery is
something too monstrous in dimensions as well as character to be dealt
with in a paragraph. But I may with propriety put one quack at the tail
of this letter; it is but just that he should let decent people go
before him. I mean "Old Sands of Life." Everybody has seen his
advertisement, beginning "A retired Physician whose sands of life have
nearly run out," etc. And everybody--almost--knows how kind the fellow
is in sending gratis his recipe. All that is necessary is (as you find
out when you get the recipe) to buy at a high price from him one
ingredient which (he says) you can get nowhere else. This swindling
scamp is in fact a smart brisk fellow of about thirty-five years of age,
notwithstanding the length of time during which--to use a funny phrase
which somebody got up for him--he has been "afflicted with a loose
tail-board to his mortal sand-cart." Some benevolent friend was so much
distressed about the feebleness of "Old Sands of Life" as to send him
one day a large parcel by express, marked "C. O. D.," and costing quite
a figure. "Old Sands" paid, and opening the parcel, found half a bushel
of excellent sand.
CHAPTER XXIX.
THE CONSUMPTIVE REMEDY.--E. ANDREWS, M. D.--BORN WITHOUT
BIRTHRIGHTS.--HASHEESH CANDY.--ROBACK THE GREAT.--A CONJURER OPPOSED TO
LYING.
There is a fellow in Williamsburg who calls himself a clergyman, and
sells a "consumptive remedy," by which I suppose he means a remedy for
consumption. It is a mere slop corked in a vial; but there are a good
many people who are silly enough to buy it of him. A certain gentleman,
during last November, earnestly sought an interview with this reverend
brother in the interests of humanity, but he was as inaccessible as a
chipmunk in a stone fence. The gentleman wrote a polite note to the
knave asking about prices, and received a printed circular in return,
stating in an affecting manner the good man's grief at having to raise
his price in consequence of the cost of gold "with which I am obliged to
buy my medicines" saith he, "in Paris." This was both sad and
unsatisfactory; and the gentleman went over to Williamsburg to seek an
interview and find out all about the prices. He reached the abode of the
man of piety, but, strange to relate, he wasn't at home.
Gentleman waited.
Reverend brother kept on not being at home. When gentleman had waited to
his entire satisfaction he came back.
It is understood it is practically out of the question to see the
reverend brother. Perhaps he is so modest and shy that he will not
encounter the clamorous gratitude which would obstruct his progress
through the streets, from the millions saved by his consumptive remedy.
It is a pity that the reverend man cannot enjoy the still more complete
seclusion by which the state of New York testifies its appreciation of
unobtrusive and retiring virtues like his, in the salubrious and quiet
town of Sing Sing.
A quack in an inland city, who calls himself E. Andrews, M. D., prints a
"semi-occasional" document in the form of a periodical, of which a copy
is lying before me. It is an awful hodgepodge of perfect nonsense and
vulgar rascality. He calls it "The Good Samaritan and Domestic
Physician," and this number is called "volume twenty." Only think what a
great man we have among us--unless the Doctor himself is mistaken. He
says: "I will here state that I have been favored by nature and
Providence in gaining access to stores of information that has _fell_ to
the lot of but very few persons heretofore, during the past history of
mankind." Evidently these "stores" were so vast that the great doctor's
brain was stuffed too full to have room left for English Grammar.
Shortly, the Doctor thus bursts forth again with some views having their
own merits, but not such as concern the healing art very directly: "The
automaton powers of machinery"--there's a new style of machinery, you
observe--"must be made to WORK FOR, _instead_ of _as now_, against
mankind; the Land of _all nations_ must be made FREE to Actual Settlers
in LIMITED quantities. No one must be born without _his birthright_
being born with him." The italics, etc., are the Doctor's. What an awful
thought is this of being born without any birthright, or, as the Doctor
leaves us to suppose possible, having one's birthright born first, and
dodging about the world like a stray canary-bird, while the unhappy and
belated owner tries in vain to put salt on its tail and catch it!
Well, this wiseacre, after his portentous introduction, fills the rest
of his sixteen loosely printed double-columned octavo pages with a
farrago of the most indescribable character, made up of brags, lies,
promises, forged recommendations and letters, boasts of systematic
charity, funny scraps of stuff in the form of little disquisitions,
advertisements of remedies, hair-oils, cosmetics, liquors, groceries,
thistle-killers, anti-bug mixtures, recipes for soap, ink, honey, and
the Old Harry only knows what. The fellow gives a list of seventy-one
specific diseases for which his Hasheesh Candy is a sure cure, and he
adds that it is also a sure cure for all diseases of the liver, brain,
throat, stomach, ear, and other internal disorders; also for "all long
standing diseases"--whatever that means!--and for insanity! In this
monstrous list are jumbled together the most incongruous troubles.
"Bleeding at the nose, and abortions;" "worms, fits, poisons and
cramps." And the impudent liar quotes General Grant, General Mitchell,
the Rebel General Lee, General McClellan, and Doctor Mott of this city,
all shouting in chorus the praises of the Hasheesh Candy! Next comes the
"Secret of Beauty," a "preparation of Turkish Roses;" then a lot of
forged references, and an assertion that the Doctor gives to the poor
five thousand pounds of bread every winter; then some fearful
denunciations of the regular doctors.
But--as the auctioneers say--"I can't dwell." I will only add that the
real villainy of this fellow only appears here and there, where he
advertises the means of ruining innocence, or of indulging with impunity
in the foulest vices. He will sell for $3.30, the "Mystic Weird Ring."
In a chapter of infamous blatherumskite about this ring he says: "The
wearer can drive from, or draw to him, any one, and for any purpose
whatever." I need not explain what this scoundrel means. He also will
sell the professed means of robbery and swindling; saying that he is
prepared to show how to remove papers, wills, titles, notes, etc., from
one place to another "by invisible means." It is a wonder that the Bank
of Commerce can keep any securities in its vaults--of course!
But enough of this degraded panderer to crime and folly. He is beneath
notice, so far as he himself concerned; I devote the space to him,
because it is well worth while to understand how base an imposture can
draw a steady revenue from a nation boasting so much culture and
intelligence as ours. It is also worth considering whether the
authorities must not be remiss, who permit such odious deceptions to be
constantly perpetrated upon the public.
I ought here to give a paragraph to the great C. W. Roback, one of whose
Astrological Almanacs is before me. This erudite production is
embellished in front with a picture of the doctor and his six
brothers--for he is the seventh son of a seventh son. The six elder
brethren--nice enough boys--stand submissively around their gigantic and
bearded junior, reaching only to his waist, and gazing up at him with
reverence, as the sheaves of Joseph's brethren worshipped his sheaf in
his dream. At the end is a picture of Magnus Roback, the grandfather of
C. W., a bull-headed, ugly old Dutchman, with a globe and compasses.
This picture, by the way, is in fact a cheap likeness of the old
discoverers or geographers. Within the book we find Gustavus Roback, the
father of C. W., for whom is used a cut of Jupiter--or some other
heathen god--half-naked, a-straddle of an eagle, with a hook in one hand
and a quadrant in the other; which is very much like the picture by one
of the "Old Masters" of Abraham about to offer up Isaac, and taking a
long aim at the poor boy with a flint-lock horse-pistol. Doctor Roback
is good enough to tell us where his brothers are: "One, a high officer
in the Empire of China, another a Catholic Bishop in the city of Rome,"
and so on. There is also a cut of his sister, whom he cured of
consumption. She is represented "talking to her bird, after the fashion
of her country, when a maiden is unexpectedly rescued from the jaws of
death!"
Roback cures all sorts of diseases, discovers stolen property, insures
children a marriage, and so on, all by means of "conjurations." He also
casts nativities and foretells future events; and he shows in full how
Bernadotte, Louis Philippe, and Napoleon Bonaparte either did well or
would have done well by following his advice. The chief peculiarity of
this impostor is, that he really avoids direct pandering to vice and
crime, and even makes it a specialty to cure drunkenness and--of all
things in the world--lying! On this point Roback gives in full the
certificate of Mrs. Abigail Morgan, whose daughter Amanda "was sorely
given to fibbing, in so much that she would rather lie than speak the
truth." And the delighted mother certifies that our friend and wizard
"so changed the nature of the girl that, to the best of our knowledge
and belief, she has never spoken anything but the truth since."
There is a conjurer "as is a conjurer."
What an uproar the incantation of the great Roback would make, if set
fairly to work among the politicians, for instance! But after all, on
second thoughts, what a horrible mass of abominations would they lay
bare in telling the truth about each other all round! No, no--it won't
do to have the truth coming out, in politics at any rate! Away with
Roback! I will not give him another word--not a single chance--not even
to explain his great power over what he calls "Fits! Fits! Fits! Fits!
Fits!"
CHAPTER XXX.
MONSIGNORE CRISTOFORO RISCHIO; OR, IL CRESO, THE NOSTRUM-VENDER OF
FLORENCE.--A MODEL FOR OUR QUACK DOCTORS.
Every visitor to Florence during the last twenty years must have noticed
on the grand piazza before the Ducal Palace, the strange genius known
as Monsignore Créso, or, in plain English, Mr. Croesus. He is so called
because of his reputed great wealth; but his real name is Christoforo
Rischio, which I may again translate, as Christopher Risk. Mrs. Browning
refers to him in one of her poems--the "Casa Guidi Windows," I
think--and he has also been the staple of a tale by one of the Trollope
brothers.
Twice every week, he comes into the city in a strange vehicle, drawn by
two fine Lombardy ponies, and unharnesses them in the very centre of the
square. His assistant, a capital vocalist, begins to sing immediately,
and a crowd soon collects around the wagon. Then Monsignore takes from
the box beneath his seat a splendidly jointed human skeleton, which he
suspends from a tall rod and hook, and also a number of human skulls.
The latter are carefully arranged on an adjustable shelf, and Créso
takes his place behind them, while in his rear a perfect chemist's shop
of flasks, bottles, and pillboxes is disclosed. Very soon his singer
ceases, and in the purest Tuscan dialect--the very utterance of which is
music--the Florentine quack-doctor proceeds to address the assemblage.
Not being conversant with the Italian, I am only able to give the
substance of his harangue, and pronounce indifferently upon the merit of
his elocution. I am assured, however, that not only the common people,
who are his chief patrons, but numbers of the most intelligent citizens,
are always entertained by what he has to say; and certainly his gestures
and style of expressions seem to betray great excellence of oratory.
Having turned the skeleton round and round on its pivot, and minutely
explained the various anatomical parts, in order to show his proficiency
in the basis of medical science, he next lifts the skulls, one by one,
and descants upon their relative perfection, throwing in a shrewd
anecdote now and then, as to the life of the original owner of each
cranium.
One skull, for example, he asserts to have belonged to a lunatic, who
wandered for half a lifetime in the Val d'Ema, subsisting precariously
upon entirely vegetable food--roots, herbs, and the like; another is the
superior part of a convict, hung in Arezzo for numerous offences; a
third is that of a very old man who lived a celibate from his youth up,
and by his abstinence and goodness exercised an almost priestly
influence upon the borghesa. When, by this miscellaneous lecture, he has
both amused and edified his hearers, he ingeniously turns the discourse
upon his own life, and finally introduces the subject of the marvellous
cures he has effected. The story of his medical preparations alone,
their components and method of distillation, is a fine piece of
popularized art, and he gives a practical exemplification of his skill
and their virtues by calling from the crowd successively, a number of
invalid people, whom he examines and prescribes for on the spot. Whether
these subjects are provided by himself or not, I am unable to decide;
but it is very possible that by long experience, Christoforo--who has no
regular diploma--has mastered the simpler elements of Materia Medica,
and does in reality effect cures. I class him among what are popularly
known as humbugs, however, for he is a pretender to more wisdom than he
possesses. It was to me a strange and suggestive scene--the bald,
beak-nosed, coal-eyed charlatan, standing in the market-place, so
celebrated in history, peering through his gold spectacles at the
upturned faces below him, while the bony skeleton at his side swayed in
the wind, and the grinning skulls below, made grotesque faces, as if
laughing at the gullibility of the people. Behind him loomed up the
massive Palazzo Vecchio, with its high tower, sharply cut, and set with
deep machicolations; to the left, the splendid Loggia of Orgagna, filled
with rare marbles, and the long picture-gallery of the Uffizi, heaped
with the rarest art-treasures of the world; to his right, the Giant
Fountain of Ammanato, throwing jets of pure water--one drop of which
outvalues all the nostrums in the world; and in front, the Post Office,
built centuries before, by Pisan captives. If any of these things moved
the imperturbable Créso, he showed no feeling of the sort; but for three
long hours, two days in the week, held his hideous clinic in the open
daylight.
Seeing the man so often, and interested always in his manner--as much
so, indeed, as the peasants or contadini, who bought his vials and
pillboxes without stint--I became interested to know the main features
of his life; and, by the aid of a friend, got some clues which I think
reliable enough to publish. I do so the more willingly, because his
career is illustrative, after an odd fashion, of contemporary Italian
life.
He was the son of a small farmer, not far from Sienna, and grew up in
daily contact with vine-dressers and olive-gatherers, living upon the
hard Tuscan fare of macaroni and maroon-nuts, with a cutlet of lean
mutton once a day, and a pint of sour Tuscan wine. Being tolerably well
educated for a peasant-boy, he imbibed a desire for the profession of an
actor, and studied Alfieri closely.
Some little notoriety that he gained by recitations led him, in an evil
hour, to venture an appearance _en grand role_, in Florence, at a
third-rate theatre. His father had meanwhile deceased and left him the
property; but to make the début referred to, he sold almost his entire
inheritance. As may be supposed, his failure was signal. However easy he
had found it to amuse the rough, untutored peasantry of his
neighborhood, the test of a large and polished city was beyond his
merit.
So, poor and abashed, he sank to the lower walks of dramatic art,
singing in choruses at the opera, playing minor parts in show-pieces,
and all the while feeling the sting of disappointed ambition and
half-deserved penury.
One day found him, at the beginning of winter, without work, and without
a soldo in his pocket. Passing a druggist's shop, he saw a placard
asking for men to sell a certain new preparation. The druggist advanced
him a small sum for travelling expenses, and he took to peripatetic
lectures at once, going into the country and haranguing at all the
villages.
Here he found his dramatic education available. Though not good enough
for an actor, he was sufficiently clever for a nomadic eulogizer of a
patent-medicine. His vocal abilities were also of service to him in
gathering the people together. The great secret of success in anything
is to get a hearing. Half the object is gained when the audience is
assembled.
Well! poor, vagabond, peddling Christopher Risk, selling so much for
another party, conceived the idea of becoming his own capitalist. He
resolved to prepare a medicine of his own; and, profiting by the
assistance of a young medical student, obtained bona fide prescriptions
for the commonest maladies. These he had made up in gross, originated
labels for them, and concealing the real essences thereof by certain
harmless adulterations, began to advertise himself as the discoverer of
a panacea.
To gain no ill-will among the priests, whose influence is paramount with
the peasantry, he dexterously threw in a reverent word for them in his
nomadic harangues, and now and then made a sounding present to the
Church.
He profited also by the superstitions abroad, and to the skill of
Hippocrates added the roguery of Simon Magus. By report, he was both a
magician and physician, and a knack that he had of slight-of-hand was
not the least influential of his virtues.
His bodily prowess was as great as his suppleness. One day, at Fiesole,
a foreign doctor presumed to challenge Monsignore to a debate, and the
offer was accepted. While the two stood together in Cristoforo's wagon,
and the intruder was haranguing the people, the quack, without a
movement of his face or a twitch of his body, jerked his foot against
his rival's leg and threw him to the ground. He had the effrontery to
proclaim the feat as magnetic entirely, accomplished without bodily
means, and by virtue of his black-art acquirements.
An awe fell upon the listeners, and they refused to hear the checkmated
disputant further.
As soon as Cristoforo began to thrive, he indulged his dramatic taste by
purchasing a superb wagon, team, and equipments, and hired a servant.
Such a turnout had never been seen in Tuscany since the Medician days.
It gained for him the name of Créso straightway, and, enabling him to
travel more rapidly, enlarged his business sphere, and so vastly
increased his profits.
He arranged regular days and hours for each place in Tuscany, and soon
became as widely known as the Grand Duke himself. When it was known that
he had bought an old castle at Pontassieve on the banks of the Arno, his
reputation still further increased. He was now so prosperous that he set
the faculty at defiance. He proclaimed that they were jealous of his
profounder learning, and threatened to expose the banefulness of their
systems.
At the same time, his talk to the common people began to savor of
patronage, and this also enhanced his reputation. It is much better, as
a rule, to call attention up to you rather than charity down to you. The
shrewd impostor became also more absolute now. It was known that the
Grand Duke had once asked him to dine, and that Monsignore had the
hardihood to refuse. Indeed, he sympathized too greatly with the aroused
Italian spirit of unity and progress to compromise himself with the
house of Austria. When at last the revolution came, Cristoforo was one
of its best champions in Tuscany. His cantante sang only the march of
Garibaldi and the victories of Savoy. His own speeches teemed with the
gospel of Italy regenerated; and for a whole month he wasted no time in
the sale of his bottighias and pillolas, but threw all his vehement,
persuasive, and dramatic eloquence into the popular cause.
The end we know. Tuscany is a dukedom no longer, but a component part of
a great peninsular kingdom with "Florence the Beautiful" for its
capital.
And still before the ducal palace, where the deputies of Italy are to
assemble, poor, vain Cristoforo Rischio makes his harangue every Tuesday
and Saturday. He is now--or was four years ago--upward of sixty years of
age, but spirited and athletic as ever, and so rich that it would be
superfluous for him to continue his peripatetic career.
His life is to me noteworthy, as showing what may be gained by
concentrating even humble energies upon a paltry thing. Had Créso
persevered as well upon the stage, I do not doubt that he would have
made a splendid actor. If he did so well with a mere nostrum, why should
he not have gained riches and a less grotesque fame by the sale of a
better article? He understood human nature, its credulities and
incredulities, its superstitions, tastes, changefulness, and love of
display and excitement. He has done no harm, and given as much amusement
as he has been paid for. Indeed, I consider him more an ornamental and
useful character than otherwise. He has brightened many a traveler's
recollections, relieved the tedium of many a weary hour in a foreign
city, and, with all his deception, has never severed himself from the
popular faith, nor sold out the popular cause. I dare say his death,
when it occurs, will cause more sensation and evoke more tears, than
that of any better physician in Tuscany.
VI. HOAXES.
CHAPTER XXXI.
THE TWENTY-SEVENTH STREET GHOST.--SPIRITS ON THE RAMPAGE.
In classing the ghost excitement that agitated our good people to such
an extent some two years ago among the "humbugs" of the age, I must, at
the outset, remind my readers that there was no little accumulation of
what is termed "respectable" testimony, as to the reality of his
ghostship in Twenty-seventh street.
One fine Sunday morning, in the early part of 1863, my friends of the
"Sunday Mercury" astonished their many thousands of patrons with an
account that had been brought to them of a fearful spectre that had made
its appearance in one of the best houses in Twenty-seventh Street. The
narrative was detailed with circumstantial accuracy, and yet with an
apparent discreet reserve, that gave the finishing touch of delightful
mystery to the story.
The circumstances, as set forth in the opening letter (for many others
followed) were briefly these:--A highly respectable family residing on
Twenty-seventh Street, one of our handsome up-town thoroughfares, became
aware, toward the close of the year 1862, that something extraordinary
was taking place in their house, then one of the best in the
neighborhood. Sundry mutterings and whisperings began to be heard among
the servants employed about the domicile, and, after a little while it
became almost impossible to induce them to remain there for love or
money. The visitors of the family soon began to notice that their calls,
which formerly were so welcome, particularly among the young people of
the establishment, seemed to give embarrassment, and that the smiles
that greeted them, as early as seven in the evening gradually gave place
to uneasy gestures, and, finally to positive hints at the lateness of
the hour, or the fatigue of their host by nine o'clock.
The head of the family was a plain, matter-of-fact old gentleman, by no
means likely to give way to any superstitious terrors--one of your
hard-headed business men who pooh-poohed demons, hobgoblins, and all
other kinds of spirits, except the purest Santa Cruz and genuine old
Otard; and he fell into a great rage, when upon his repeated gruff
demands for an explanation, he was delicately informed that his parlor
was "haunted." He vowed that somebody wanted to drive him from the
house; that there was a conspiracy afoot among the women to get him
still higher up town, and into a bigger brown-stone front, and refused
to believe one word of the ghost-story. At length, one day, while
sitting in his "growlery," as the ladies called it, in the lower story,
his attention was aroused by a clatter on the stairs, and looking out
into the entry he saw a party of carpenters and painters who had been
employed upon the parlor-floor, beating a precipitate retreat toward the
front door.
"Stop!--stop! you infernal fools! What's all this hullabaloo about?"
shouted the old gentleman.
No reply--no halt upon the part of the mechanics, but away they went
down the steps and along the street, as though Satan himself, or Moseby
the guerrilla, was at their heels. They were pursued and ordered back,
but absolutely refused to come, swearing that they had seen the Evil
One, in _propria persona_; and threats, persuasions, and bribes alike
proved vain to induce them to return. This made the matter look serious,
and a family-council was held forthwith. It wouldn't do to let matters
go on in this way, and something must be thought of as a remedy. It was
in this half-solemn and half-tragic conclave that the pater-familias was
at last put in possession of the mysterious occurrences that had been
disturbing the peace of his domestic hearth.
A ghost had been repeatedly seen in his best drawing-room!--a genuine,
undeniable, unmitigated ghost!
The spectre was described by the female members of the family as making
his appearance at all hours, chiefly, however in the evening, of course.
Now the good old orthodox idea of a ghost is, of a very long,
cadaverous, ghastly personage, of either sex, appearing in white
draperies, with uplifted finger, and attended or preceded by sepulchral
sounds--whist! hush! and sometimes the rattling of casements and the
jingling of chains. A bluish glare and a strong smell of brimstone
seldom failed to enhance the horror of the scene. This ghost, however,
came it seems, in more ordinary guise, but none the less terrible for
his natural style of approach and costume. He was usually seen in the
front parlor, which was on the second story and faced the street. There
he would be found seated in a chair near the fire place, his attire the
garb of a carman or "carter" and hence the name "Carter's Ghost"
afterward frequently applied to him. There he would sit entirely unmoved
by the approach of living denizens of the house, who, at first, would
suppose that he was some drunken or insane intruder, and only discover
their mistake as they drew near, and saw the fire-light shining through
him, and notice the glare of his frightful eyes, which threatened all
comers in a most unearthly way. Such was the purport of the first sketch
that appeared in the "Sunday Mercury," stated so distinctly and
impressively that the effect could not fail to be tremendous among our
sensational public. To help the matter, another brief notice, to the
same effect, appeared in the Sunday issue of a leading journal on the
same morning. The news dealers and street-carriers caught up the novelty
instanter, and before noon not a copy of the "Sunday Mercury" could be
bought in any direction. The country issue of the "Sunday Mercury" had
still a larger sale.
On Sunday morning, every sheet in town made some allusion to the Ghost,
and many even went so far as to give the very (supposed) number of the
house favored with his visitations. The result of this enterprising
guess was ludicrous enough, bordering a little, too, upon the serious.
Indignant house-holders rushed down to the "Sunday Mercury" office with
the most amusing wrath, threatening and denouncing the astonished
publishers with all sorts of legal action for their presumed trespass,
when in reality, their paper had designated no place or person at all.
But the grandest demonstration of popular excitement was revealed in
Twenty-seventh street itself. Before noon a considerable portion of the
thoroughfare below Sixth Avenue was blocked up with a dense mass of
people of all ages, sizes, sexes, and nationalities, who had come "to
see the Ghost." A liquor store or two, near by, drove a splendid
"spiritual" business; and by evening "the fun" grew so "fast and
furious" that a whole squad of police had to be employed to keep the
side-walks and even the carriage-way clear. The "Ghost" was shouted for
to make a speech, like any other new celebrity, and old ladies and
gentlemen peering out of upper-story windows were saluted with playful
tokens of regard, such as turnips, eggs of ancient date, and other
things too numerous to mention, from the crowd. Nor was the throng
composed entirely of Gothamites. The surrounding country sent in its
contingent. They came on foot, on horseback, in wagons, and arrayed in
all the costumes known about these parts, since the days of Rip Van
Winkle. Cruikshanks would have made a fortune from his easy sketches of
only a few figures in the scene. And thus the concourse continued for
days together, arriving at early morn and staying there in the street
until "dewy eve."
As a matter of course, there were various explanations of the story
propounded by various people--all wondrously wise in their own conceit.
Some would have it that "the Ghost" was got up by some of the neighbors,
who wished, in this manner, to drive away disreputable occupants; others
insisted that it was the revenge of an ousted tenant, etc., etc.
Everybody offered his own theory, and, as is usual, in such cases,
nobody was exactly right.
Meanwhile, the "Sunday Mercury" continued its publications of the
further progress of the "mystery," from week to week, for a space of
nearly two months, until the whole country seemed to have gone
ghost-mad. Apparitions and goblins dire were seen in Washington,
Rochester, Albany, Montreal, and other cities.
The spiritualists took it up and began to discuss "the Carter Ghost"
with the utmost zeal. One startling individual--a physician and a
philosopher--emerged from his professional shell into full-fledged
glory, as the greatest canard of all, and published revelations of his
own intermediate intercourse with the terrific "Carter." In every nook
and corner of the land, tremendous posters, in white and yellow, broke
out upon the walls and windows of news-depots, with capitals a foot
long, and exclamation-points like drumsticks, announcing fresh
installments of the "Ghost" story, and it was a regular fight between
go-ahead vendors who should get the next batch of horrors in advance of
his rivals.
Nor was the effect abroad the least feature of this stupendous "sell."
The English, French, and German press translated some of the articles in
epitome, and wrote grave commentaries thereon. The stage soon caught the
blaze; and Professor Pepper, at the Royal Polytechnic Institute, in
London, invented a most ingenious device for producing ghosts which
should walk about upon the stage in such a perfectly-astounding manner
as to throw poor Hamlet's father and the evil genius of Brutus quite
into the "shade." "Pepper's Ghost" soon crossed the Atlantic, and all
our theatres were speedily alive with nocturnal apparitions. The only
real ghosts, however--four in number--came out at the Museum, in an
appropriate drama, which had an immense run--"all for twenty-five
cents," or only six and a quarter cents per ghost!
But I must not forget to say that, really, the details given in the
"Sunday Mercury" were well calculated to lead captive a large class of
minds prone to luxuriate in the marvelous when well mixed with plausible
reasoning. The most circumstantial accounts were given of sundry "gifted
young ladies," "grave and learned professors," "reliable
gentlemen"--where are those not found?--"lonely watchers," and others,
who had sought interviews with the "ghost," to their own great
enlightenment, indeed, but, likewise, complete discomfiture. Pistols
were fired at him, pianos played and songs sung for him, and, finally,
his daguerreotype taken on prepared metallic plates set upright in the
haunted room. One shrewd artist brought out an "exact photographic
likeness" of the distinguished stranger on cartes de visite, and made
immense sales. The apparitions, too, multiplied. An old man, a woman,
and a child made their appearance in the house of wonders, and, at last,
a gory head with distended eyeballs, swimming in a sea of blood, upon a
platter--like that of Holofernes--capped the climax.
Certain wiseacres here began to see political allusions in the Ghost,
and many actually took the whole affair to be a cunningly devised
political satire upon this or that party, according as their sympathies
swayed them.
It would have been a remarkable portion of "this strange, eventful
history," of course, if "Barnum" could have escaped the accusation of
being its progenitor.
I was continually beset, and frequently, when more than usually busy,
thoroughly annoyed by the innuendoes of my visitors, that I was the
father of "the Ghost."
"Come, now, Mr. Barnum--this is going a little too far!" some good old
dame or grandfather would say to me. "You oughtn't to scare people in
this way. These ghosts are ugly customers!"
"My dear Sir," or "Madam," I would say, as the case might be, "I do
assure you I know nothing whatever about the Ghost"--and as for
"spirits," you know I never touch them, and have been preaching against
them nearly all my life."
"Well! well! you will have the last turn," they'd retort, as they edged
away; "but you needn't tell us. We guess we've found the ghost."
Now, all I can add about this strange hallucination is, that those who
came to me to see the original "Carter," really saw the "Elephant."
The wonderful apparition disappeared, at length, as suddenly as he had
come. The "Bull's-Eye Brigade," as the squad of police put on duty to
watch the neighborhood, for various reasons, was termed, hung to their
work, and flashed the light of their lanterns into the faces of lonely
couples, for some time afterward; but quiet, at length, settled down
over all: and it has been it seems, reserved for my pen to record
briefly the history of "The Twenty-seventh street Ghost."
CHAPTER XXXII.
THE MOON-HOAX.
The most stupendous scientific imposition upon the public that the
generation with which we are numbered has known, was the so-called
"Moon-Hoax," published in the columns of the "New York Sun," in the
months of August and September, 1835. The sensation created by this
immense imposture, not only throughout the United States, but in every
part of the civilized world, and the consummate ability with which it
was written, will render it interesting so long as our language shall
endure; and, indeed, astronomical science has actually been indebted to
it for many most valuable hints--a circumstance that gives the
production a still higher claim to immortality.
At the period when the wonderful "yarn" to which I allude first
appeared, the science of astronomy was engaging particular attention,
and all works on the subject were eagerly bought up and studied by
immense masses of people. The real discoveries of the younger Herschel,
whose fame seemed destined to eclipse that of the elder sage of the same
name, and the eloquent startling works of Dr. Dick, which the Harpers
were republishing, in popular form, from the English edition, did much
to increase and keep up this peculiar mania of the time, until the whole
community at last were literally occupied with but little else than
"star-gazing." Dick's works on "The Sidereal Heavens," "Celestial
Scenery," "The improvement of Society," etc., were read with the utmost
avidity by rich and poor, old and young, in season and out of season.
They were quoted in the parlor, at the table, on the promenade, at
church, and even in the bedroom, until it absolutely seemed as though
the whole community had "Dick" upon the brain. To the highly educated
and imaginative portion of our good Gothamite population, the Doctor's
glowing periods, full of the grandest speculations as to the starry
worlds around us, their wondrous magnificence and ever-varying aspects
of beauty and happiness were inexpressibly fascinating. The author's
well-reasoned conjectures as to the majesty and beauty of their
landscapes, the fertility and diversity of their soil, and the exalted
intelligence and comeliness of their inhabitants, found hosts of
believers; and nothing else formed the staple of conversation, until the
beaux and belles, and dealers in small talk generally, began to grumble,
and openly express their wishes that the Dickens had Doctor Dick and all
his works.
It was at the very height of the furor above mentioned, that one morning
the readers of the "Sun"--at that time only twenty-five hundred in
number--were thrilled with the announcement in its columns of certain
"Great Astronomical Discoveries Lately Made by Sir John Herschel, LL.D.,
F.R.S. etc., at the Cape of Good Hope," purporting to be a republication
from a Supplement to the Edinburgh Journal of Science. The heading of
the article was striking enough, yet was far from conveying any adequate
idea of its contents. When the latter became known, the excitement went
beyond all bounds, and grew until the "Sun" office was positively
besieged with crowds of people of the very first class, vehemently
applying for copies of the issue containing the wonderful details.
As the pamphlet form in which the narrative was subsequently published
is now out of print, and a copy can hardly be had in the country, I will
recall a few passages from a rare edition, for the gratification of my
friends who have never seen the original. Indeed, the whole story is
altogether too good to be lost; and it is a great pity that we can not
have a handsome reprint of it given to the world from time to time. It
is constantly in demand; and, during the year 1859, a single copy of
sixty pages, sold at the auction of Mr. Haswell's library, brought the
sum of $3,75. In that same year, a correspondent, in Wisconsin, writing
to the "Sunday Times" of this city, inquired where the book could be
procured, and was answered that he could find it at the old bookstore,
No. 85 Centre Street, if anywhere. Thus, after a search of many weeks,
the Western bibliopole succeeded in obtaining a well-thumbed specimen of
the precious work. Acting upon this chance suggestion, Mr. William
Gowans, of this city, during the same year, brought out a very neat
edition, in paper covers, illustrated with a view of the moon, as seen
through Lord Rosse's grand telescope, in 1856. But this, too, has all
been sold; and the most indefatigable book-collector might find it
difficult to purchase a single copy at the present time. I, therefore,
render the inquiring reader no slight service in culling for him some
of the flowers from this curious astronomical garden.
The opening of the narrative was in the highest Review style; and the
majestic, yet subdued, dignity of its periods, at once claimed
respectful attention; while its perfect candor, and its wealth of
accurate scientific detail exacted the homage of belief from all but
cross-grained and inexorable skeptics.
It commences thus:
"In this unusual addition to our Journal, we have the happiness to
make known to the British public, and thence to the whole civilized
world, recent discoveries in Astronomy, which will build an
imperishable monument to the age in which we live, and confer upon
the present generation of the human race a proud distinction
through all future time. It has been poetically said, that the
stars of heaven are the hereditary regalia of man, as the
intellectual sovereign of the animal creation. He may now fold the
Zodiac around him with a loftier consciousness of his mental
superiority," etc., etc.
The writer then eloquently descanted upon the sublime achievement by
which man pierced the bounds that hemmed him in, and with sensations of
awe approached the revelations of his own genius in the far-off heavens,
and with intense dramatic effect described the younger Herschel
surpassing all that his father had ever attained; and by some stupendous
apparatus about to unvail the remotest mysteries of the sidereal space,
pausing for many hours ere the excess of his emotions would allow him to
lift the vail from his own overwhelming success.
I must quote a line or two of this passage, for it capped the climax of
public curiosity:
"Well might he pause! He was about to become the sole depository of
wondrous secrets which had been hid from the eyes of all men that
had lived since the birth of time. He was about to crown himself
with a diadem of knowledge which would give him a conscious
preëminence above every individual of his species who then lived or
who had lived in the generations that are passed away. He paused
ere he broke the seal of the casket that contained it."
Was not this introduction enough to stimulate the wonder bump of all the
star-gazers, until
"Each particular hair did stand on end,
Like quills upon the fretful porcupine?"
At all events, such was the effect, and it was impossible at first to
supply the frantic demand, even of the city, not to mention the country
readers.
I may very briefly sum up the outline of the discoveries alleged to have
been made, in a few paragraphs, so as not to protract the suspense of my
readers too long.
It was claimed that the "Edinburgh Journal" was indebted for its
information to Doctor Andrew Grant--a savant of celebrity, who had, for
very many years, been the scientific companion, first of the elder and
subsequently of the younger Herschel, and had gone with the latter in
September, 1834, to the Cape of Good Hope, whither he had been sent by
the British Government, acting in conjunction with the Governments of
France and Austria, to observe the transit of Mercury over the disc of
the sun--an astronomical point of great importance to the lunar
observations of longitude, and consequently to the navigation of the
world. This transit was not calculated to occur before the 7th of
November, 1835 (the year in which the hoax was printed;) but Sir John
Herschel set out nearly a year in advance, for the purpose of thoroughly
testing a new and stupendous telescope devised by himself under this
peculiar inspiration, and infinitely surpassing anything of the kind
ever before attempted by mortal man. It has been discovered by previous
astronomers and among others, by Herschel's illustrious father, that the
sidereal object becomes dim in proportion as it is magnified, and that,
beyond a certain limit, the magnifying power is consequently rendered
almost useless. Thus, an impassable barrier seemed to lie in the way of
future close observation, unless some means could be devised to
illuminate the object to the eye. By intense research and the
application of all recent improvements in optics, Sir John had succeeded
in securing a beautiful and perfectly lighted image of the moon with a
magnifying power that increased its apparent size in the heavens six
thousand times. Dividing the distance of the moon from the earth, viz.:
240,000 miles, by six thousand, we we have forty miles as the distance
at which she would then seem to be seen; and as the elder Herschel, with
a magnifying power, only one thousand, had calculated that he could
distinguish an object on the moon's surface not more than 122 yards in
diameter, it was clear that his son, with six times the power, could see
an object there only twenty-two yards in diameter. But, for any further
advance in power and light, the way seemed insuperably closed until a
profound conversation with the great savant and optician, Sir David
Brewster, led Herschel to suggest to the latter the idea of the
readoption of the old fashioned telescopes, without tubes, which threw
their images upon reflectors in a dark apartment, and then the
illumination of these images by the intense hydro-oxygen light used in
the ordinary illuminated microscope. At this suggestion, Brewster is
represented by the veracious chronicler as leaping with enthusiasm from
his chair, exclaiming in rapture to Herschel:
"Thou art the man!"
The suggestion, thus happily approved, was immediately acted upon, and a
subscription, headed by that liberal patron of science, the Duke of
Sussex, with £10,000, was backed by the reigning King of England with
his royal word for any sum that might be needed to make up £70,000, the
amount required. No time was lost; and, after one or two failures, in
January 1833, the house of Hartley & Grant, at Dumbarton, succeeded in
casting the huge object-glass of the new apparatus, measuring
twenty-four feet (or six times that of the elder Herschel's glass) in
diameter; weighing 14,826 pounds, or nearly seven tons, after being
polished, and possessing a magnifying power of 42,000 times!--a
perfectly pure, spotless, achromatic lens, without a material bubble or
flaw!
Of course, after so elaborate a description of so astounding a result as
this, the "Edinburg Scientific Journal" (_i. e._, the writer in the "New
York Sun") could not avoid being equally precise in reference to
subsequent details, and he proceeded to explain that Sir John Herschel
and his amazing apparatus having been selected by the Board of Longitude
to observe the transit of Mercury, the Cape of Good Hope was chosen
because, upon the former expedition to Peru, acting in conjunction with
one to Lapland, which was sent out for the same purpose in the
eighteenth century, it had been noticed that the attraction of the
mountainous regions deflected the plumb-line of the large instruments
seven or eight seconds from the perpendicular, and, consequently,
greatly impaired the enterprise. At the Cape, on the contrary, there was
a magnificent table-land of vast expanse, where this difficulty could
not occur. Accordingly, on the 4th of September, 1834, with a design to
become perfectly familiar with the working of his new gigantic
apparatus, and with the Southern Constellations, before the period of
his observations of Mercury, Sir John Herschel sailed from London,
accompanied by Doctor Grant (the supposed informant,) Lieutenant
Drummond, of the Royal Engineers, F.R.A.S., and a large party of the
best English workmen. On their arrival at the Cape, the apparatus was
conveyed, in four days' time, to the great elevated plain, thirty-five
miles to the N.E. of Cape Town, on trains drawn by two relief-teams of
oxen, eighteen to a team, the ascent aided by gangs of Dutch boors. For
the details of the huge fabric in which the lens and its reflectors were
set up, I must refer the curious reader to the pamphlet itself--not that
the presence of the "Dutch boors" alarms me at all, since we have plenty
of boors at home, and one gets used to them in the course of time, but
because the elaborate scientific description of the structure would
make most readers see "stars" in broad daylight before they get through.
I shall only go on to say that, by the 10th of January, everything was
complete, even to the two pillars "one hundred and fifty feet high!"
that sustained the lens. Operations then commenced forthwith, and so,
too, did the "special wonder" of the readers. It is a matter of
congratulation to mankind that the writer of the hoax, with an apology
(Heaven save the mark!) spared us Herschel's notes of "the Moon's
tropical, sidereal, and synodic revolutions," and the "phenomena of the
syzygies," and proceeded at once to the pith of the subject. Here came
in his grand stroke, informing the world of complete success in
obtaining a distinct view of objects in the moon "fully equal to that
which the unaided eye commands of terrestrial objects at the distance of
a hundred yards, affirmatively settling the question whether the
satellite be inhabited, and by what order of beings," "firmly
establishing a new theory of cometary phenomena," etc., etc. This
announcement alone was enough to take one's breath away, but when the
green marble shores of the Mare Nubium; the mountains shaped like
pyramids, and of the purest and most dazzling crystalized, wine-colored
amethyst, dotting green valleys skirted by "round-breasted hills;"
summits of the purest vermilion fringed with arching cascades and
buttresses of white marble glistening in the sun--when these began to be
revealed, the delight of our Luna-tics knew no bounds--and the whole
town went moon-mad! But even these immense pictures were surpassed by
the "lunatic" animals discovered. First came the "herds of brown
quadrupeds" very like a--no! not a whale, but a bison, and "with a tail
resembling that of the bos grunniens"--the reader probably understands
what kind of a "bos" that is, if he's apprenticed to a theatre in
midsummer with musicians on a strike; then a creature, which the
hoax-man naïvely declared "would be classed on earth as a monster"--I
rather think it would!--"of a bluish lead color, about the size of a
goat, with a head and a beard like him, and a single horn, slightly
inclined forward from, the perpendicular"--it is clear that if this goat
was cut down to a single horn, other people were not! I could not but
fully appreciate the exquisite distinction accorded by the writer to the
female of this lunar animal--for she, while deprived of horn and beard,
he explicitly tells us, "had a much larger tail!" When the astronomers
put their fingers on the beard of this "beautiful" little creature (on
the reflector, mind you!) it would skip away in high dudgeon, which,
considering that 240,000 miles intervened, was something to show its
delicacy of feeling.
Next in the procession of discovery, among other animals of less note,
was presented "a quadruped with an amazingly long neck, head like a
sheep, bearing two long spiral horns, white as polished ivory, and
standing in perpendiculars parallel to each other. Its body was like
that of a deer, but its forelegs were most disproportionately long, and
its tail, which was very bushy and of a snowy whiteness, curled high
over its rump and hung two or three feet by its side. Its colors were
bright bay and white, brindled in patches, but of no regular form."
This is probably the animal known to us on earth, and particularly along
the Mississippi River, as the "guyascutus," to which I may particularly
refer in a future article.
But all these beings faded into insignificance compared with the first
sight of the genuine Lunatics, or men in the moon, "four feet high,
covered, except in the face, with short, glossy, copper-colored hair,"
and "with wings composed of a thin membrane, without hair, lying snugly
upon their backs from the top of their shoulders to the calves of their
legs," "with faces of a yellowish flesh-color--a slight improvement on
the large ourang-outang." Complimentary for the Lunatics! But, says the
chronicler, Lieutenant Drummond declared that "but for their long wings,
they would look as well on a parade-ground as some of the cockney
militia!" A little rough, my friend the reader will exclaim, for the
aforesaid militia.
Of course, it is impossible, in a sketch like the present, to do more
than give a glimpse of this rare combination of astronomical realities
and the vagaries of mere fancy, and I must omit the Golden-fringed
Mountains, the Vale of the Triads, with their splendid triangular
temples, etc., but I positively cannot pass by the glowing mention of
the inhabitants of this wonderful valley--a superior race of Lunatics,
as beautiful and as happy as angels, "spread like eagles" on the grass,
eating yellow gourds and red cucumbers, and played with by snow-white
stags, with jet-black horns! The description here is positively
delightful, and I even now remember my poignant sigh of regret when, at
the conclusion, I read that these innocent and happy beings, although
evidently "creatures of order and subordination," and "very polite,"
were seen indulging in amusements which would not be deemed "within the
bounds of strict propriety" on this degenerate ball. The story wound up
rather abruptly by referring the reader to an extended work on the
subject by Herschel, which has not yet appeared.
One can laugh very heartily, now, at all this; but nearly everybody, the
gravest and the wisest, too, was completely taken in at the time: and
the "Sun," then established at the corner of Spruce street, where the
"Tribune" office now stands, reaped an increase of more than fifty
thousand to its circulation--in fact, there gained the foundation of its
subsequent prolonged success. Its proprietors sold no less than $25,000
worth of the "Moon Hoax" over the counter, even exhausting an edition of
sixty thousand in pamphlet form. And who was the author? A literary
gentleman, who has devoted very many years of his life to mathematical
and astronomical studies, and was at the time connected as an editor
with the "Sun"--one whose name has since been widely known in literature
and politics--Richard Adams Locke, Esq., then in his youth, and now in
the decline of years. Mr. Locke, who still survives, is a native of the
British Isles, and, at the time of his first connection with the New
York press, was the only short-hand reporter in this city, where he laid
the basis of a competency he now enjoys. Mr. Locke declares that his
original object in writing the Moon story was to satirize some of the
extravagances of Doctor Dick, and to make some astronomical suggestions
which he felt diffident about offering seriously.
Whatever may have been his object, his hit was unrivaled; and for months
the press of Christendom, but far more in Europe than here, teemed with
it, until Sir John Herschel was actually compelled to come out with a
denial over his own signature. In the meantime, it was printed and
published in many languages, with superb illustrations. Mr. Endicott,
the celebrated lithographer, some years ago had in his possession a
splendid series of engravings, of extra folio size, got up in Italy, in
the highest style of art, and illustrating the "Moon Hoax."
Here, in New York, the public were, for a long time, divided on the
subject, the vast majority believing, and a few grumpy customers
rejecting the story. One day, Mr. Locke was introduced by a mutual
friend at the door of the "Sun" office to a very grave old orthodox
Quaker, who, in the calmest manner, went on to tell him all about the
embarkation of Herschel's apparatus at London, where he had seen it with
his own eyes. Of course, Locke's optics expanded somewhat while he
listened to this remarkable statement, but he wisely kept his own
counsel.
The discussions of the press were very rich; the "Sun," of course,
defending the affair as genuine, and others doubting it. The "Mercantile
Advertiser," the "Albany Daily Advertiser," the "New York Commercial
Advertiser," the "New York Times," the "New Yorker," the "New York
Spirit of '76," the "Sunday News," the "United States Gazette," the
"Philadelphia Inquirer," and hosts of other papers came out with the
most solemn acceptance and admiration of these "wonderful discoveries,"
and were eclipsed in their approval only by the scientific journals
abroad. The "Evening Post," however, was decidedly skeptical, and took
up the matter in this irreverent way:
"It is quite proper that the "Sun" should be the means of shedding
so much light on the Moon. That there should be winged people in
the moon does not strike us as more wonderful than the existence of
such a race of beings on the earth; and that there does still exist
such a race, rests on the evidence of that most veracious of
voyagers and circumstantial of chroniclers, Peter Wilkins, whose
celebrated work not only gives an account of the general appearance
and habits of a most interesting tribe of flying Indians; but,
also, of all those more delicate and engaging traits which the
author was enabled to discover by reason of the conjugal relations
he entered into with one of the females of the winged tribe."
The moon-hoax had its day, and some of its glory still survives. Mr.
Locke, its author, is now quietly residing in the beautiful little home
of a friend on the Clove Road, Staten Island, and no doubt, as he gazes
up at the evening luminary, often fancies that he sees a broad grin on
the countenance of its only well-authenticated tenant, "the hoary
solitary whom the criminal code of the nursery has banished thither for
collecting fuel on the Sabbath-day."
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.
Some persons say that "all is fair in politics." Without agreeing with
this doctrine, I nevertheless feel that the history of Ancient and
Modern Humbugs would not be complete without a record of the last and
one of the most successful of known literary hoaxes. This is the
pamphlet entitled "Miscegenation," which advocates the blending of the
white and black races upon this continent, as a result not only
inevitable from the freeing of the negro, but desirable as a means of
creating a more perfect race of men than any now existing. This pamphlet
is a clever political quiz; and was written by three young gentlemen of
the "World" newspaper, namely. D. G. Croly, George Wakeman, and E. C.
Howell.
The design of "Miscegenation" was exceedingly ambitious, and the
machinery employed was probably among the most ingenious and audacious
ever put into operation to procure the indorsement of absurd theories,
and give the subject the widest notoriety. The object was to so make use
of the prevailing ideas of the extremists of the Anti-Slavery party, as
to induce them to accept doctrines which would be obnoxious to the
great mass of the community, and which would, of course, be used in the
political canvass which was to ensue. It was equally important that the
"Democrats" should be made to believe that the pamphlet in question
emanated from a "Republican" source. The idea was suggested by a
discourse delivered by Mr. Theodore Tilton, at the Cooper Institute,
before the American Anti-Slavery Society, in May 1863, on the negro, in
which that distinguished orator argued, that in some future time the
blood of the negro would form one of the mingled bloods of the great
regenerated American nation. The scheme once conceived, it began
immediately to be put into execution. The first stumbling-block was the
name "amalgamation," by which this fraternizing of the races had been
always known. It was evident that a book advocating amalgamation would
fall still-born, and hence some new and novel word had to be discovered,
with the same meaning, but not so objectionable. Such a word was coined
by the combination of the Latin _miscere_, to mix, and _genus_, race:
from these, miscegenation--a mingling of the races. The word is as
euphonious as "amalgamation," and much more correct in meaning. It has
passed into the language, and no future dictionary will be complete
without it. Next, it was necessary to give the book an erudite
appearance, and arguments from ethnology must form no unimportant part
of this matter. Neither of the authors being versed in this science,
they were compelled to depend entirely on encyclopedias and books of
reference. This obstacle to a New York editor or reporter was not so
great as it might seem. The public are often favored in our journals
with dissertations upon various abstruse matters by men who are entirely
ignorant of what they are writing about. It was said of Cuvier that he
could restore the skeleton of an extinct animal if he were only given
one of its teeth, and so a competent editor or reporter of a city
journal can get up an article of any length on any given subject, if he
is only furnished one word or name to start with. There was but one
writer on ethnology distinctly known to the authors, which was Prichard;
but that being secured, all the rest came easily enough. The authors
went to the Astor Library and secured a volume of Prichard's works, the
perusal of which of course gave them the names of many other
authorities, which were also consulted; and thus a very respectable
array of scientific arguments in favor of Miscegenation were soon
compiled. The sentimental and argumentative portions were quickly
suggested from the knowledge of the authors of current politics, of the
vagaries of some of the more visionary reformers, and from their own
native wit.
The book was at first written in a most cursory manner the chapters got
up without any order or reference to each other, and afterward arranged.
As the impression sought to be conveyed was a serious one, it would
clearly not do to commence with the extravagant and absurd theories to
which it was intended that the reader should gradually be led. The
scientific portion of the work was therefore given first, and was made
as grave and terse and unobjectionable as possible; and merely urged,
by arguments drawn from science and history, that the blending of the
different races of men resulted in a better progeny. As the work
progressed, they continued to "pile on the agony," until, at the close,
the very fact that the statue of the Goddess of Liberty on the Capitol,
is of a bronze tint, is looked upon as an omen of the color of the
future American!
"When the traveler approaches the City of Magnificent Distances,"
it says, "the seat of what is destined to be the greatest and most
beneficent power on earth, the first object that will strike his
eye will be the figure of Liberty surmounting the Capitol; not
white, symbolizing but one race, nor black, typifying another, but
a statue representing the composite race, whose sway will extend
from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean, from the Equator to the
North Pole--the Miscegens of the Future."
The Book once written, plans were laid to obtain the indorsement of the
people who were to be humbugged. It was not only necessary to humbug the
members of the Reform and Progressive party, but to present--as I have
before said--such serious arguments that Democrats should be led to
believe it as a _bona fide_ revelation of the "infernal" designs of
their antagonists. In both respects there was complete success.
Although, of course, the mass of the Republican leaders entirely ignored
the book, yet a considerable number of Anti-Slavery men, with more
transcendental ideas, were decidedly "sold." The machinery employed was
exceedingly ingenious. Before the book was published, proof-copies were
furnished to every prominent abolitionist in the country, and also to
prominent spiritual mediums, to ladies known to wear Bloomers, and to
all that portion of our population who are supposed to be a little
"soft" on the subject of reform. A circular was also enclosed,
requesting them, before the publication of the book, to give the author
the benefit of their opinions as to the value of the arguments
presented, and the desirability of the immediate publication of the
work; to be inclosed to the American News Company, 121 Nassau street,
New York--the agents for the publishers. The bait took. Letters came
pouring in from all sides, and among the names of prominent persons who
gave their indorsements were Albert Brisbane, Parker Pillsbury, Lucretia
Mott, Sarah M. Grimke, Angelina G. Weld, Dr. J. McCune Smith, Wm. Wells
Brown. Mr. Pillsbury was quite excited over the book, saying; "Your work
has cheered and gladdened a winter-morning, which I began in cloud and
sorrow. You are on the right track. Pursue it, and the good God speed
you." Mr. Theodore Tilton, upon receiving the pamphlet, wrote a note
promising to read it, and to write the author a long and candid letter
as soon as he had time; and saying, that the subject was one to which he
had given much thought. The promised letter, I believe, however, was
never received; probably because, on a careful perusal of the book, Mr.
Tilton "smelt a rat." He might also have been influenced by an ironical
paragraph relating to himself, and arguing that, as he was a "pure
specimen of the blonde," and "when a young man was noted for his angelic
type of feature," his sympathy for the colored race was accounted for by
the natural love of opposites. Says the author with much gravity:
"The sympathy Mr. Greeley, Mr. Phillips and Mr. Tilton feel for the
negro is the love which the blonde bears for the black; it is the
love of race, a sympathy stronger to them than the love they bear
to woman. It is founded upon natural law. We love our opposites. It
is the nature of things that we should do so, and where Nature has
free course, men like those we have indicated, whether Anti-Slavery
or Pro-Slavery, Conservative or Radical, Democrat or Republican,
will marry and be given in marriage to the most perfect specimens
of the colored race."
So far, things worked favorably; and, having thus bagged a goodly number
of prominent reformers, the next effort was to get the ear of the
public. Here, new machinery was brought into play. A statement was
published in the "Philadelphia Inquirer" (a paper which, ever since the
war commenced, has been notorious for its "sensation" news,) that a
charming and accomplished young mulatto girl was about to publish a book
on the subject of the blending of the races, in which she took the
affirmative view. Of course, so piquant a paragraph was immediately
copied by almost every paper in the country. Various other stories,
equally ingenious and equally groundless, were set afloat, and public
expectation was riveted on the forthcoming work.
Some time in February last, the book was published. Copies, of course,
were sent to all the leading journals. The "Anglo-African," the organ of
the colored population of New York, warmly, and at great length,
indorsed the doctrine. The "Anti-Slavery Standard," edited by Mr. Oliver
Johnson, gave over a column of serious argument and endorsement to the
work. Mr. Tilton, of the "Independent," was not to be caught napping.
In that journal, under date of February 25, 1864, he devoted a
two-column leader to the subject of Miscegenation and the little
pamphlet in question. Mr. Tilton was the first to announce a belief that
the book was a hoax. I quote from his article:
"Remaining a while on our table unread, our attention was specially
called to it by noticing how savagely certain newspapers were
abusing it."
* * * * *
"The authorship of the pamphlet is a well-kept secret; at least it
is unknown to us. Nor, after a somewhat careful reading, are we
convinced that the writer is in earnest. Our first impression was,
and remains, that the work was meant as a piece of pleasantry--a
burlesque upon what are popularly called the extreme and fanatical
notions of certain radical men named therein. Certainly, the essay
is not such a one as any of these gentlemen would have written on
the subject, though some of their speeches are conspicuously quoted
and commended in it."
* * * * *
"If written in earnest, the work is not thorough enough to be
satisfactory; if in jest, we prefer Sydney Smith--or McClellan's
Report. Still, to be frank, we agree with a large portion of these
pages, but disagree heartily with another portion."
* * * * *
"The idea of scientifically undertaking to intermingle existing
populations according to a predetermined plan for reconstructing
the human race--for flattening out its present varieties into one
final unvarious dead-level of humanity--is so absurd, that we are
more than ever convinced such a statement was not written in
earnest!"
Mr. Tilton, however, hints that the colored race is finally in some
degree to form a component part of the future American; and that, in
time, "the negro of the South, growing paler with every generation, will
at last completely hide his face under the snow."
One of the editorial writers for the "Tribune" was so impressed with the
book that he wrote an article on the subject, arguing about it with
apparent seriousness, and in a manner with some readers supposed to be
rather favorable than otherwise to the doctrine. Mr. Greeley and the
publishers, it is understood, were displeased at the publication of the
article. The next morning nearly all the city journals had editorial
articles upon the subject.
The next point was, to get the miscegenation controversy into Congress.
The book, with its indorsements, was brought to the notice of Mr. Cox,
of Ohio (commonly called "Sunset Cox;") and he made an earnest speech on
the subject. Mr. Washburne replied wittily, reading and commenting on
extracts from a work by Cox, in which the latter deplored the existence
of the prejudice against the Africans. A few days after, Mr. Kelly, of
Pennsylvania, replied very elaborately to Mr. Cox, bringing all his
learning and historical research to bear on the topic. It was the
subject of a deal of talk in Washington afterward. Mr. Cox was charged
by some of the more shrewd members of Congress with writing it. It was
said that Mr. Sumner, on reading it, immediately pronounced it a hoax.
Through the influence of the authors, a person visited James Gordon
Bennett, of the "Herald," and spoke to him about "Miscegenation." Mr.
Bennett thought the idea too monstrous and absurd to waste an article
upon.
"But," said the gentleman, "the Democratic papers are all noticing it."
"The Democratic editors are asses," said Bennett.
"Senator Cox has just made a speech in Congress on it."
"Cox is an ass," responded Bennett.
"Greeley had an article about it the other day."
"Well, Greeley's a donkey."
"The 'Independent' yesterday had a leader of a column and a half about
it."
"Well, Beecher is no better," said Bennett. "They're all asses. But what
did he say about it?"
"Oh, he rather indorsed it."
"Well, I'll read the article," said Bennett. "And perhaps I'll have an
article written ridiculing Beecher."
"It will make a very good handle against the radicals," said the other.
"Oh, I don't know," said Bennett. "Let them marry together, if they want
to, with all my heart."
For some days, the "Herald" said nothing about it, but the occasion of
the departure of a colored regiment from New York City having called
forth a flattering address to them from the ladies of the "Loyal
League," the "Herald," saw a chance to make a point against Mr. Charles
King and others; and the next day it contained a terrific article,
introducing miscegenation in the most violent and offensive manner, and
saying that the ladies of the "Loyal League" had offered to marry the
colored soldiers on their return! After that, the "Herald" kept up a
regular fusillade against the supposed miscegenic proclivities of the
Republicans. And thus, after all, Bennett swallowed the "critter"
horns, hoofs, tail, and all.
The authors even had the impudence to attempt to entrap Mr. Lincoln into
an indorsement of the work, and asked permission to dedicate a new work,
on a kindred subject, "Melaleukation," to him. Honest Old Abe however,
who can see a joke, was not to be taken in so easily.
About the time the book was first published, Miss Anne E. Dickinson
happened to lecture in New York. The authors here exhibited a great
degree of acuteness and tact, as well as sublime impudence, in seizing
the opportunity to have some small hand bills, with the endorsement of
the book, printed and distributed by boys among the audience. Before
Miss Dickinson appeared, therefore, the audience were gravely reading
the miscegenation handbill; and the reporters, noticing it, coupled the
facts in their reports. From this, it went forth, and was widely
circulated, that Miss Dickinson was the author!
Dr. Mackay, the correspondent of the "London Times," in New York, was
very decidedly sold, and hurled all manner of big words against the
doctrine in his letters to "The Thunderer;" and thus "the leading paper
of Europe" was, for the hundredth time during the American Rebellion,
decidedly taken in and done for.
The "Saturday Review"--perhaps the cleverest and certainly the sauciest
of the English hebdomadals--also berated the book and its authors in the
most pompous language at its command. Indeed, the "Westminster Review"
seriously refers to the arguments of the book in connection with Dr.
Broca's pamphlet on Human Hybridity, a most profound work.
"Miscegenation" was republished in England by Trübner & Co.; and very
extensive translations from it are still passing the rounds of the
French and German papers.
Thus passes into history one of the most impudent as well as ingenious
literary hoaxes of the present day. There is probably not a newspaper in
the country but has printed much about it; and enough of extracts might
be collected from various journals upon the subject to fill my
whale-tank.
It is needless to say that the book passed through several editions. Of
course, the mass of the intelligent American people rejected the
doctrines of the work, and looked upon it either as a political dodge,
or as the ravings of some crazy man; but the authors have the
satisfaction of knowing that it achieved a notoriety which has hardly
been equalled by any mere pamphlet ever published in this country.
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.
A great many persons believe more or less in haunted houses. In almost
every community there is some building that has had a mysterious
history. This is true in all countries, and among all races and nations.
Indeed it is to this very fact that the ingenious author of the
"Twenty-seventh-street Ghost" may attribute his success in creating such
an excitement. In fact, I will say, "under the rose," he predicted his
hopes of success entirely upon this weakness in human nature. Even in
"this day and age of the world" there are hundreds of deserted buildings
which are looked upon with awe, or terror, or superstitious interest.
They have frightened their former inhabitants away, and left the
buildings in the almost undisputed possession of real moles, bats, and
owls, and imaginary goblins and sprites.
In the course of my travels in both hemispheres I have been amazed at
the great number of such cases that have come under my personal
observation.
But for the present, I will give a brief account of a haunted house in
Yorkshire, England, in which some twenty years ago, Kirby, the actor,
who formerly played at the Chatham Theatre, passed a pretty strange
night. I met Mr. Kirby in London in 1844, and I will give, in nearly his
own language, a history of his lone night in this haunted house, as he
gave it to me within a week after its occurrence. I will add, that I saw
no reason to doubt Mr. Kirby's veracity, and he assured me upon his
honor that the statement was literally true to the letter. Having myself
been through several similar places in the daytime, I felt a peculiar
interest in the subject, and hence I have a vivid recollection of nearly
the exact words in which he related his singular nocturnal adventure.
One thing is certain: Kirby was not the man to be afraid of trying such
an experiment.
"I had heard wonderful stories about this house," said Mr. Kirby to me,
"and I was very glad to get a chance to enter it, although, I confess,
the next morning I was about as glad to get out of it."
"It was an old country-seat--a solid stone mansion which had long borne
the reputation of a haunted house. It was watched only by one man. He
was the old gardener,--an ancient servant of the family that once lived
there, and a person in whom the family reposed implicit confidence.
"Having had some inkling of this wonderful place, and having a few days
to spare before going to London to fulfil an engagement at the Surry
Theatre, I thought I would probe this haunted-house story to the bottom.
I therefore called on the old gardener who had charge of the place, and
introduced myself as an American traveller desirous of spending a night
with his ghosts. The old man seemed to be about seventy-five or eighty
years of age. I met him at the gate of the estate, where he kept guard.
He told me, when I applied, that it was a dangerous spot to enter, but I
could pass it if I pleased. I should, however, have to return by the
same door, if I ever came back again.
"Wishing to make sure of the job, I gave him a sovereign, and asked him
to give me all the privileges of the establishment; and if his bill
amounted to more, I would settle it when I returned. He looked at me
with an expression of doubt and apprehension, as much as to say that he
neither understood what I was going to do nor what was likely to happen.
He merely remarked:
"'You can go in.'
"'Will you go with me, and show me the road?'
"'I will.'
"'Go ahead.'
"We entered. The gate closed. I suddenly turned on my man, the old
gardener and custodian of the place, and said to him:
"'Now, my patriarchal friend, I am going to sift this humbug to the
bottom, even if I stay here forty nights in succession; and I am
prepared to lay all "spirits" that present themselves; but if you will
save me all trouble in the matter and frankly explain to me the whole
affair, I will never mention it to your injury, and I will present you
with ten golden sovereigns.'
"The old fellow looked astonished; but he smirked, and whimpered, and
trembled, and said:
"'I am afraid to do that; but I will warn you against going too far.'
"When we had crossed a courtyard, he rang a bell, and several strange
noises were distinctly heard. I was introduced to the establishment
through a well-constructed archway, which led to a large stairway, from
which we proceeded to a great door, which opened into a very large room.
It was a library. The old custodian had carried a torch (and I was
prepared with a box of matches.) He was acting evidently 'on the
square,' and I sat myself down in the library, where he told me that I
should soon see positive evidence that this was a haunted house.
"Not being a very firm believer in the doctrine of houses really
haunted, I proposed to keep a pretty good hold of my match-box, and lest
there should be any doubt about it, I had also provided myself with two
sperm candles, which I kept in my pocket, so I should not be left too
suddenly and too long in the dark.
"'Now Sir,' said he, 'I wish you to hold all your nerves steady and keep
your courage up, because I intend to stand by you as well as I can, but
I never come into this house alone.'
"'Well, what is the matter with the house?'
"'Oh! everything, Sir!'
"'What?'
"'Well, when I was much younger than I am now, the master of this estate
got frightened here by some mysterious appearances, noises, sounds,
etc., and he preferred to leave the place.'
"'Why?'
"'He had a tradition from his grandfather, and pretty well kept alive in
the family, that it was a haunted house; and he let out the estate to
the smaller farmers of the neighborhood, and quit the premises, and
never returned again, except one night, and after that one night he
left. We suppose he is dead. Now, Sir, if you wish to spend the night
here as you have requested, what may happen to you I don't know; but I
tell you it is a haunted house, and I would not sleep here to-night for
all the wealth of the Bank of England!'
"This did not deter me in the least, and having the means of
self-protection around me, and plenty of lucifer matches, etc., I
thought I would explore this mystery and see whether a humbug which had
terrified the proprietors of that magnificent house in the midst of a
magnificent estate, for upward of sixty years, could not be explored and
exploded. That it was a humbug, I had no doubt; that I would find it
out, I was not so certain.
"I sat down in the library, fully determined to spend the night in the
establishment. A door was opened into an adjoining room where there was
a dust-covered lounge, and every thing promised as much comfort as could
be expected under the circumstances.
"However, before the old keeper of the house left, I asked him to show
me over the building, and let me explore for myself the different rooms
and apartments. To all this he readily consented; and as he had some
prospect before him of making a good job out of it, he displayed a great
deal of alacrity, and moved along very quick and smart for a man
apparently eighty years of age.
"I went from room to room and story to story. Everything seemed to be
well arranged, but somewhat dusty and time-worn. I kept a pretty sharp
lookout, but I could see no sort of machinery for producing a grand
effect.
"We finally descended to the library, when I closed the door, and
bolting and locking it, took the key and put it in my pocket.
"'Now, Sir,' I said to the keeper, 'where is the humbug?'
"'There is no humbug here,' he answered.
"'Well, why don't you show me some evidence of the haunted house?'
"'You wait,' said he, 'till twelve o'clock to-night, and you will see
"haunting" enough for you. I will not stay till then.'
"He left; I staid. Everything was quiet for some time. Not a mouse was
heard, not a rat was visible, and I thought I would go to sleep.
"I lay down for this purpose, but I soon heard certain extraordinary
sounds that disturbed my repose. Chains were clanked, noises were made,
and shrieks and groans were heard from various parts of the mansion. All
of these I had expected. They did not frighten me much. A little while
after, just as I was going to sleep again, a curious string of light
burned around the room. It ran along on the walls in a zigzag line,
about six feet high, entirely through the apartment. I did not smell
anything bituminous or like sulphur. It flashed quicker than powder,
and it did not smell like it. Thinks I: 'This looks pretty well, we will
have some amusement now.' Then the jangling of bells, and clanking of
chains, and flashes of light; then thumpings and knockings of all sorts
came along, interspersed with shrieks and groans. I sat very quiet. I
had two of Colt's best pistols in my pocket, and I thought I could shoot
anything spiritual or material with these machines made in Connecticut.
I took them out and laid them on the table. One of them suddenly
disappeared! I did not like that, still my nerves were firm, for I knew
it was all gammon. I took the other pistol in my hand and surveyed the
room. Nobody was there; and, finally half suspicious that I had gone to
sleep and had a dream, I woke up with a grasp on my hand which was
holding the other pistol. This soon made me fully awake.
"I tried to recover my balance, and at this moment the candle went out.
I lit it with one of my lucifers. No person was visible, but the noises
began again, and they were infernal. I then took one of my sperm candles
out, and went to unlock the door. I attempted to take the key out of my
pocket. It was not there! Suddenly the door opened, I saw a man or a
somebody about the size of a man, standing straight in front of me. I
pointed one of Colt's revolvers at his head, for I thought I saw
something human about him; and I told him that whether he was ghost or
spirit, goblin or robber, he had better stand steady, or I would blow
his brains out, if he had any. And to make sure that he should not
escape I got hold of his arm, and told him that if he was a ghost he
would have a tolerably hard time of it, and that if he was a humbug I
would let him off if he would tell me the whole story about the trick.
"He saw that he was caught, and he earnestly begged me not to fire that
American pistol at him. I did not; but I did not let go of him. I
brought him into the library, and with pistol in hand I put him through
a pretty close examination. He was clad in mailed armor, with
breastplate and helmet, and a great sword, in the style of the
Crusaders. He promised, on condition of saving his life, to give me an
honest account of the facts.
"In substance they were, that he, an old family-servant, and ultimately
a gardener in charge of the place, had been employed by an enemy of the
gentleman who owned the property, to render it so uncomfortable that the
estate should be sold for much less than its value; and that he had got
an ingenious machinist and chemist to assist him in arranging such
contrivances as would make the house so intolerable that they could not
live there. A galvanic battery with wires were provided, and every
device of chemistry and mechanism was resorted to in order to effect
this purpose.
"One by one, the family left; and they had remained away for nearly two
generations under the terror of such forms, and appearances, and sights
and sounds, as frightened them almost to death. And furthermore, the old
gardener added, that he expected his own grand-daughter would become the
lady of that house, when the property should have been neglected so
long and the place became so fearful that no one in the neighborhood
would undertake to purchase it, or to even pass one moment after dark in
exploring its horrible mysteries.
"He begged on his knees that I would spare him with his gray hairs,
since he had so short a time to live. He declared that he had been
actuated by no other motive than pride and ambition for his child.
"I told the poor old fellow that his secret should be safe with me, and
should not be made public so long as he lived. The old man grasped my
hand eagerly and expressed his gratitude in the strongest terms. Thus,
Mr. Barnum, I have given you the pure and honest facts in regard to my
adventure in a so called haunted house. Don't make it public until you
are convinced that the old gardener has shuffled off this mortal coil."
So much for Kirby's story of the haunted house. No doubt, the old
gardener has before this become in reality a disembodied spirit, but
that his grand-daughter became legally possessed of the estate is not at
all probable. Real estate does not change hands so easily in England. So
powerful, however is the superstitious belief in haunted houses, that it
is doubtful whether that property will for many years sustain half so
great a cash value in the market as it would have done had it not been
considered a "haunted house."
It is to be hoped that, as schools multiply and education increases, the
follies and superstitions which underlie a belief in ghosts and
hobgoblins will pass away.
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.
Whether superstition is the father of humbug, or humbug the mother of
superstition (as well as its nurse,) I do not pretend to say; for the
biggest fools and the greatest philosophers can be numbered among the
believers in and victims of the worst humbugs that ever prevailed on the
earth.
As we grow up from childhood and begin to think we are free from all
superstitions, absurdities, follies, a belief in dreams, signs, omens,
and other similar stuff, we afterward learn that experience does not
cure the complaint. Doubtless much depends upon our "bringing up." If
children are permitted to feast their ears night after night (as I was)
with stories of ghosts, hobgoblins, ghouls, witches, apparitions,
bugaboos, it is more difficult in after-life for them to rid their minds
of impressions thus made.
But whatever may have been our early education, I am convinced that
there is an inherent love of the marvelous in every breast, and that
everybody is more or less superstitious; and every superstition I
denominate a humbug, for it lays the human mind open to any amount of
belief, in any amount of deception that may be practised.
One object of these chapters consists in showing how open everybody is
to deception, that nearly everybody "hankers" after it, that solid and
solemn realities are frequently set aside for silly impositions and
delusions, and that people, as a too general thing, like to be led into
the region of mystery. As Hudibras has it:
"Doubtless the pleasure is as great
Of being cheated as to cheat;
As lookers-on feel most delight
That least perceive a juggler's sleight;
And still the less they understand,
The more they admire his sleight of hand."
The amount or strength of man's brains have little to do with the amount
of their superstitions. The most learned and the greatest men have been
the deepest believers in ingeniously-contrived machines for running
human reason off the track. If any expositions I can make on this
subject will serve to put people on their guard against impositions of
all sorts, as well as foolish superstitions, I shall feel a pleasure in
reflecting that I have not written in vain. The heading of this chapter
enumerates the principal kinds of supernatural humbugs. These, it must
be remembered, are quite different from religious impostures.
It is astonishing to reflect how ancient is the date of this class of
superstitions (as well as of most others, in fact,) and how universally
they have prevailed. Nearly thirty-six hundred years ago, it was thought
a matter of course that Joseph, the Hebrew Prime Minister of Pharaoh,
should have a silver cup that he commonly used to do his divining with:
so that the practice must already have been an established one.
In Homer's time, about twenty-eight hundred years ago, ghosts were
believed to appear. The Witch of Endor pretended to raise the ghost of
Samuel, at about the same time.
To-day, here in the City of New York, dream books are sold by the
edition; a dozen fortune-tellers regularly advertise in the papers; a
haunted house can gather excited crowds for weeks; abundance of people
are uneasy if they spill salt, dislike to see the new moon over the
wrong shoulder, and are delighted if they can find an old horse-shoe to
nail to their door-post.
I have already told about one or two haunted houses, but must devote
part of this chapter to that division of the subject. There are hundreds
of such--that is, of those reputed to be such; and have been for
hundreds of years. In almost every city, and in many towns and country
places, they are to be found. I know of one, for instance, in New
Jersey, one or two in New York, and have heard of several in
Connecticut. There are great numbers in Europe; for as white men have
lived there so much longer than in America, ghosts naturally
accumulated. In this country there are houses and places haunted by
ghosts of Hessians, and Yankee ghosts, not to mention the headless Dutch
phantom of Tarrytown, that turned out to be Brom Bones; but who ever
heard of the ghost of an Indian? And as for the ghost of a black man,
evidently it would have to appear by daylight. You couldn't see it in
the dark!
I have no room to even enumerate the cases of haunted houses. One in
Aix-la-Chapelle, a fine large house, stood empty five years on account
of the knockings in it, until it was sold for almost nothing, and the
new owner (lucky man!) discovered that the ghost was a draft through a
broken window that banged a loose door. An English gentleman once died,
and his heir, in a day or two, heard of mysterious knockings which the
frightened servants attributed to the defunct. He, however, investigated
a little, and found that a rat in an old store room, was trying to get
out of an old-fashioned box trap, and being able to lift the door only
partly, it dropped again, constituting the ghost. Better pleased to find
the rat than his father, the young man exterminated rat and phantom
together.
A very ancient and impressive specimen of a haunted house was the palace
of Vauvert, belonging to King Louis IX, of France, who was so pious that
he was called Saint Louis. This fine building was so situated as to
become very desirable, in the year 1259, to some monks. So there was
forthwith horrid shriekings at night-times, red and green lights shone
through the windows, and, finally, a large green ghost, with a white
beard and a serpent's tail, came every midnight to a front window, and
shook his fist, and howled at those who passed by. Everybody was
frightened--King Louis, good simple soul! as well as the rest. Then the
bold monks appearing at the nick of time, intimated that if the King
would give them the palace, they would do up the ghost in short order.
He did it, and was very thankful to them besides. They moved in, and
sure enough, the ghost appeared no more. Why should he?
The ghosts of Woodstock are well known. How they tormented the Puritan
Commissioners who came thither in 1649, to break up the place, and
dispose of it for the benefit of the Commonwealth! The poor Puritans had
a horrid time. A disembodied dog growled under their bed, and bit the
bed-clothes; something invisible walked all about; the chairs and tables
danced; something threw the dishes about (like the Davenport "spirits;")
put logs for the pillows; flung brickbats up and down, without regard to
heads; smashed the windows; threw pebbles in at the frightened
commissioners; stuck a lot of pewter platters into their beds; ran away
with their breeches; threw dirty water over them in bed; banged them
over the head--until, after several weeks, the poor fellows gave it up,
and ran away back to London. Many years afterward, it came out that all
this was done by their clerk, who was secretly a royalist, though they
thought him a furious Puritan, and who knew all the numerous secret
passages and contrivances in the old palace. Most people have read Sir
Walter Scott's capital novel of "Woodstock," founded on this very story.
The well known "Demon of Tedworth," that drummed, and scratched, and
pounded, and threw things about, in 1661, in Mr. Mompesson's house
turned out to be a gipsy drummer and confederates.
The still more famous "Ghost in Cock Lane," in London in 1762,
consisted of a Mrs. Parsons and her daughter, a little girl, trained by
Mr. Parsons to knock and scratch very much after the fashion of the
alphabet talking of the "spirits" of to-day. Parsons got up the whole
affair, to revenge himself on a Mr. Kent. The ghost pretended to be that
of a deceased sister-in-law of Kent, and to have been poisoned by him.
But Parsons and his assistants were found out, and had to smart for
their fun, being heavily fined, imprisoned, etc.
A very able ghost indeed, a Methodist ghost--the spectral property,
consequently, of my good friends the Methodists--used to rattle, and
clatter, and bang, and communicate, in the house of the Rev. Mr. Wesley,
the father of John Wesley, at Epworth, in England. This ghost was very
troublesome, and utterly useless. In fact, none of the ghosts that haunt
houses are of the least possible use. They plague people, but do no
good. They act like the spirits of departed monkeys.
I must add two or three short anecdotes about ghosts, got up in the
devil-manner. They are not new, but illustrate very handsomely the state
of mind in which a ghost should be met. One is, that somebody undertook
to scare Cuvier, the great naturalist, with a ghost having an ox's head.
Cuvier woke, and found the fearful thing glaring and grinning at his
bedside.
"What do you want?"
"To devour you!" growled the ghost.
"Devour me?" quoth the great Frenchman--"Hoofs, horns, _graminivorous_!
You can't do it--clear out!"
And he did clear out.
A pious maiden lady, in one of our New-England villages, was known to
possess three peculiarities. First, she was a very religious, honest,
matter-of-fact woman. Second, she supposed everybody else was equally
honest; hence she was very credulous, always believing everything she
heard. And third, having "a conscience void of offense," she saw no
reason to be afraid of anything; consequently, she feared nothing.
On a dark night, some boys, knowing that she would be returning home
alone from prayer-meeting, through an unfrequented street, determined to
test two of her peculiarities, viz., her credulity and her courage. One
of the boys was sewed up in a huge shaggy bear-skin, and as the old
lady's feet were heard pattering down the street, he threw himself
directly in her path and commenced making a terrible noise.
"Mercy!" exclaimed the old lady. "Who are you?"
"I am the devil!" was the reply.
"Well, you are a poor creature!" responded the antiquated virgin, as she
stepped aside and passed by the strange animal, probably not for a
moment doubting it was his Satanic Majesty, but certainly not dreaming
of being afraid of him.
It is said that a Yankee tin peddler, who had frequently cheated most of
the people in the vicinity of a New England village through which he was
passing, was induced by some of the acute ones to join them in a
drinking bout. He finally became stone drunk; and in that condition
these wags carried him to a dark rocky cave near the village, then,
dressing themselves in raw-head-and-bloody-bones' style, awaited his
return to consciousness.
As he began rousing himself, they lighted some huge torches, and also
set fire to some bundles of straw, and three or four rolls of brimstone,
which they had placed in different parts of the cavern. The peddler
rubbed his eyes, and seeing and smelling all these evidences of
pandemonium, concluded he had died, and was now partaking of his final
doom. But he took it very philosophically, for he complacently remarked
to himself.
"In hell--just as I expected!"
A story is told of a cool old sea captain, with a virago of a wife, who
met one of these artificial devils in a lonely place. As the ghost
obstructed his path, the old fellow remarked:
"If you are not the devil, get out! If you are, come along with me and
get supper. I married your sister!"
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.--SALAMANCA.--DEVIL TAKE THE
HINDMOST.
Magic, sorcery, witchcraft, enchantment, necromancy, conjuring,
incantation, soothsaying, divining, the black art, are all one and the
same humbug. They show how prone men are to believe in _some_
supernatural power, in _some_ beings wiser and stronger than
themselves, but at the same time how they stop short, and find
satisfaction in some debasing humbug, instead of looking above and
beyond it all to God, the only being that it is really worth while for
man to look up to or beseech.
Magic and witchcraft are believed in by the vast majority of mankind,
and by immense numbers even in Christian countries. They have always
been believed in, so far as I know. In following up the thread of
history, we always find conjuring or witch work of some kind, just as
long as the narrative has space enough to include it. Already, in the
early dawn of time, the business was a recognized and long established
one. And its history is as unbroken from that day down to this, as the
history of the race.
In the narrow space at my command at present, I shall only gather as
many of the more interesting stories about these humbugs, as I can make
room for. Reasoning about the subject, or full details of it, are at
present out of the question. A whole library of books exists about it.
It is a curious fact that throughout the middle ages, the Roman poet
Virgil was commonly believed to have been a great magician. Traditions
were recorded by monastic chroniclers about him, that he made a brass
fly and mounted it over one of the gates of Naples, having instilled
into this metallic insect such potent magical qualities that as long as
it kept guard over the gate, no musquitos, or flies, or cockroach, or
other troublesome insects could exist in the city. What would have
become of the celebrated Bug Powder man in those days? The story is
told about Virgil as well as about Albertus Magnus, Roger Bacon, and
other magicians, that he made a brazen head which could prophesy. He
also made some statues of the gods of the various nations subject to
Rome, so enchanted that if one of those nations was preparing to rebel,
the statue of its god rung a bell and pointed a finger toward the
nation. The same set of stories tells how poor Virgil came to an
untimely end in consequence of trying to live forever. He had become an
old man, it appears, and wishing to be young again, he used some
appropriate incantations, and prepared a secret cavern. In this he
caused a confidential disciple to cut him up like a hog and pack him
away in a barrel of pickle, out of which he was to emerge in his new
magic youth after a certain time. But by that special bad luck which
seems to attend such cases, some malapropos traveller somehow made his
way into the cavern, where he found the magic pork-barrel standing
silently all alone in the middle of the place, and an ever-burning lamp
illuminating the room, and slowly distilling a magic oil upon the salted
sorcerer who was cooking below. The traveller rudely jarred the barrel,
the light went out, as the torches flared upon it; and suddenly there
appeared to the eyes of the astounded man, close at one side of the
barrel, a little naked child, which ran thrice around the barrel,
uttering deep curses upon him who had thus destroyed the charm, and
vanished. The frightened traveller made off as fast as he could, and
poor old Virgil, for what I know, is in pickle yet.
Cornelius Agrippa was one of the most celebrated magicians of the
middle ages. He lived from the year 1486 (six years before the discovery
of America) until 1534, and was a native of Cologne, Agrippa is said to
have had a magic glass in which he showed to his customers such dead or
absent persons as they might wish to see. Thus he would call up the
beautiful Helen of Troy, or Cicero in the midst of an oration; or to a
pining lover, the figure of his absent lady, as she was employed at the
moment--a dangerous exhibition! For who knows, whether the consolation
sought by the fair one, will always be such as her lover will approve?
Agrippa, they say, had an attendant devil in the form of a huge black
dog, whom on his death-bed the magician dismissed with curses. The dog
ran away, plunged into the river Saone and was seen no more. We are of
course to suppose that his Satanic Majesty got possession of the
conjuror's soul however, as per agreement. There is a story about
Agrippa, which shows conclusively how "a little learning" may be "a
dangerous thing." When Agrippa was absent on a short journey, his
student in magic slipped into the study and began to read spells out of
a great book. After a little there was a knock at the door, but the
young man paid no attention to it. In another moment there was another
louder one, which startled him, but still he read on. In a moment the
door opened, and in came a fine large devil who angrily asked, "What do
you call me for?" The frightened youth answered very much like those
naughty boys who say "I didn't do nothing!" But it will not do to fool
with devils. The angry demon caught him by the throat and strangled him.
Shortly, when Agrippa returned, lo and behold, a strong squad of evil
spirits were kicking up their heels and playing tag all over the house,
and crowding his study particularly full. Like a schoolmaster among
mischievous boys, the great enchanter sent all the little fellows home,
catechised the big one, and finding the situation unpleasant, made him
reanimate the corpse of the student and walk it about town all the
afternoon. The malignant demon however, was free at sunset, and let the
corpse drop dead in the middle of the market place. The people
recognized it, found the claw-marks and traces of strangling, suspected
the fact, and Agrippa had to abscond very suddenly.
Another student of Agrippa's came very near an equally bad end. The
magician was in the habit of enchanting a broomstick into a servant to
do his housework, and when it was done, turning it back to a broomstick
again and putting it behind the door. This young student had overheard
the charm which made the servant, and one day in his master's absence,
wanting a pail of water he said over the incantation and told the
servant "Bring some water." The evil spirit promptly obeyed; flew to the
river, brought a pailful and emptied it, instantly brought a second,
instantly a third; and the student, startled, cried out, "that's
enough!" But this was not the "return charm," and the ill tempered
demon, rejoicing in doing mischief within the letter of his obligation,
now flew backward and forward like lightning, so that he even began to
flood the room about the rash student's feet. Desperate, he seized an
axe and hewed this diabolical serving-man in two. _Two_ serving-men
jumped up, with two water-pails, grinning in devilish glee, and both
went to work harder than ever. The poor student gave himself up for
lost, when luckily the master came home, dismissed the over-officious
water carrier with a word, and saved the student's life.
How thoroughly false all these absurd fictions are, and yet how
ingeniously based on some fact, appears by the case of Agrippa's black
dog. Wierus, a writer of good authority, and a personal friend of
Agrippa's, reports that he knew very well all about the dog; that it was
not a superhuman dog at all, but (if the term be admissible) a mere
human dog--an animal which he, Wierus, had often led about by a string,
and only a domestic pet of Agrippa.
Another eminent magician of those days was Doctor Faustus, about whom
Goethe wrote "Faust," Bailey wrote "Festus," and whose story, mingled of
human love and of the devilish tricks of Mephistopheles, is known so
very widely. The truth about Faust seems to be, that he was simply a
successful juggler of the sixteenth century. Yet the wonderful stories
about him were very implicitly and extensively believed. It was the time
of the Protestant Reformation, and even Melanchthon and Luther seem to
have entirely believed that Faustus could make the forms of the dead
appear, could carry people invisibly through the air, and play all the
legendary tricks of the enchanters. So strong a hold does humbug often
obtain even upon the noblest and clearest and wisest minds!
Faustus, according to the traditions, had a pretty keen eye for a joke.
He once sold a splendid horse to a horse-jockey at a fair. The fellow
shortly rode his fine horse to water. When he got into the water, lo and
behold, the horse vanished, and the humbugged jockey found himself
sitting up to his neck in the river on a straw saddle. There is
something quite satisfactory in the idea of playing such a trick on one
of that sharp generation, and Faust felt so comfortable over it that he
entered his hotel and went quietly to sleep--or pretended to. Shortly in
came the angry jockey; he shouted and bawled, but could not awaken the
doctor, and in his anger he seized his foot and gave it a good pull.
Foot and leg came off in his hand. Faustus screamed out as if in
horrible agony, and the terrified jockey ran away as fast as he could,
and never troubled his very loose-jointed customer for the money.
A magician named Ziito, resident at the court of Wenceslaus of Bohemia
(A. D. 1368 to 1419,) appears to great advantage in the annals of these
humbugs. He was a homely, crooked creature, with an immense mouth. He
had a collision once in public on a question of skill with a brother
conjuror, and becoming a little excited, opened his big mouth and
swallowed the other magician, all to his shoes, which as he observed
were dirty. Then he stepped into a closet, got his rival out of him
somehow, and calmly led him back to the company. A story is told about
Ziito and some hogs, just like that about Faust and the horse.
In all these stories about magicians, their power is derived from the
devil. It was long believed that the ancient university of Salamanca in
Spain, founded A. D. 1240, was the chief school of magic, and had
regular professors and classes in it. The devil was supposed to be the
special patron of this department, and he had a curious fee for his
trouble, which he collected every commencement day. The last exercise of
the graduating class on that day was, to run across a certain cavern
under the University. The devil was always on hand at this time, and had
the privilege of grabbing at the last man of the crowd. If he caught
him, as he commonly did, the soul of the unhappy student became the
property of his captor. Hence arose the phrase "Devil take the
hindmost." Sometime it happened that some very brisk fellow was left
last by some accident. If he were brisk enough to dodge the devil's
grab, that personage only caught his shadow. In this case it was well
understood that this particular enchanter never had any shadow
afterwards, and he always became very eminent in his art.
CHAPTER. XXXVII.
WITCHCRAFT.--NEW YORK WITCHES.--THE WITCH MANIA.--HOW FAST THEY BURNED
THEM.--THE MODE OF TRIAL.--WITCHES TO DAY IN EUROPE.
Witchcraft is one of the most baseless, absurd, disgusting and silly of
all the humbugs. And it is not a dead humbug either; it is alive, busily
exercised by knaves and believed by fools all over the world. Witches
and wizards operate and prosper among the Hottentots and negroes and
barbarous Indians, among the Siberians and Kirgishes and Lapps, of
course. Everybody knows _that_--they are poor ignorant creatures! Yes:
but are the French and Germans and English and Americans poor ignorant
creatures too? They are, if the belief and practice of witchcraft among
them is any test; for in all those countries there are witches. I take
up one of the New York City dailies of this very morning, and find in it
the advertisements of seven Witches. In 1858, there were in full blast
in New York and Brooklyn sixteen witches and two wizards. One of these
wizards was a black man; a very proper style of person to deal with the
black art.
Witch means, a woman who practices sorcery under an agreement with the
devil, who helps her. Before the Christian era, the Jewish witch was a
mere diviner or at most a raiser of the dead, and the Gentile witch was
a poisoner, a maker of philtres or love potions, and a vulgar sort of
magician. The devil part of the business did not begin until a good
while after Christ. During the last century or so, again, while
witchcraft has been extensively believed in, the witch has degenerated
into a very vulgar and poverty stricken sort of conjuring woman. Take
our New York city witches, for instance. They live in cheap and dirty
streets that smell bad; their houses are in the same style, infected
with a strong odor of cabbage, onions, washing-day, old dinners, and
other merely sublunary smells. Their rooms are very ill furnished, and
often beset with wash-tubs, swill-pails, mops and soiled clothes; their
personal appearance is commonly unclean, homely, vulgar, coarse, and
ignorant, and often rummy. Their fee is a quarter or half of a dollar.
Sometimes a dollar. Their divination is worked by cutting and dealing
cards or studying the palm of your hand. And the things which they tell
you are the most silly and shallow babble in the world; a mess of
phrases worn out over and over again. Here is a specimen, as gabbled to
the customer over a pack of cards laid out on the table; anybody can do
the like: "You face a misfortune. I think it will come upon you within
three weeks, but it may not. A dark complexioned man faces your
life-card. He is plotting against you, and you must beware of him. Your
marriage-card faces two young women, one fair and the other dark. One
you will have, and the other you will not. I think you will have the
fair one. She favors the dark complexioned man, which means trouble. You
face money, but you must earn it. There is a good deal, but you may not
get much of it" etc., etc. These words are exactly the sort of stuff
that is sold by the witches of to-day. But the greatest witch humbug of
all the witchcraft of history, is that of Christendom for about three
hundred years, beginning about the time of the discovery of America. To
that period belonged the Salem witchcraft of New England, the
witch-finding of Matthew Hopkins in Old England, the Scotch witch
trials, and the Swedish and German and French witch mania.
The peculiar traits of the witchcraft of this period are among the most
mysterious of all humbugs. The most usual points in a case of witchcraft
were, that the witch had sold herself to the devil for all eternity, in
order to get the power during a few years of earthly life, to inflict a
few pains on the persons of those she disliked, or to cause them to lose
part of their property. This was almost always the whole story, except
the mere details of the witch baptism and witch sabbath, parodies on the
ceremonies of the Christian religion. And the mystery is, how anybody
could believe that to accomplish such very small results, seldom equal
even to the death of an enemy, one would agree to accept eternal
damnation in the next world, almost certain poverty, misery, persecution
and torment in this, besides having for an amusement performances more
dirty, obscene and vulgar than I can even hint at.
But such a belief was universal, and hundreds of the witches themselves
confessed as much as I have described, and more, with numerous details,
and they were burnt alive for their trouble. The extent of wholesale
murdering perpetrated under forms of law, on charges of witchcraft, is
astonishing. A magistrate named Remigius, published a book in which he
told how much he thought of himself for having condemned and burned nine
hundred witches in sixteen years, in Lorraine. And the one thing that he
blamed himself for was this: that out of regard for the wishes of a
colleague, he had only caused certain children to be whipped naked three
times round the market place where their parents had been burned,
instead of burning them. At Bamberg, six hundred persons were burned in
five years, at Wurzburg nine hundred in two years. Sprenger, a German
inquisitor-general, and author of a celebrated book on detecting and
punishing witchcraft, called _Malleus Maleficarum_, or "The Mallet of
Malefactors," burned more than five hundred in one year. In Geneva, five
hundred persons were burned during 1515 and 1516. In the district of
Como in Italy, a thousand persons were burned as witches in the single
year 1524, besides over a hundred a year for several years afterwards.
_Seventeen thousand_ persons were executed for witchcraft in Scotland
during thirty-nine years, ending with 1603. _Forty thousand_ were
executed in England from 1600 to 1680. Bodinus, another of the witch
killing judges, gravely announced that there were undoubtedly not less
than three hundred thousand witches in France.
The way in which the witch murderers reasoned, and their modes of
conducting trials and procuring confessions, were truly infernal. The
chief rule was that witchcraft being an "exceptional crime," no regard
need be had to the ordinary forms of justice. All manner of tortures
were freely applied to force confessions. In Scotland "the boot" was
used, being an iron case in which the legs are locked up to the knees,
and an iron wedge then driven in until sometimes the bones were crushed
and the marrow spouted out. Pin sticking, drowning, starving, the rack,
were too common to need details. Sometimes the prisoner was hung up by
the thumbs, and whipped by one person, while another held lighted
candles to the feet and other parts of the body. At Arras, while the
prisoners were being torn on the rack, the executioner stood by, sword
in hand, promising to cut off at once the heads of those who did not
confess. At Offenburg, when the prisoners had been tortured until
beyond the power of speaking aloud, they silently assented to abominable
confessions read to them out of a book. Many were cheated into
confession by the promise of pardon and release, and then burned. A poor
woman in Germany was tricked by the hangman, who dressed himself up as a
devil and went into her cell. Overpowered by pain, fear and
superstition, she begged him to help her out; her beseeching was taken
for confession, she was burned, and a ballad which treated the trick as
a jolly and comical device, was long popular in the country. Several of
the judges in witch cases tell us how victims, utterly weary of their
tormented lives, confessed whatever was required, merely as the shortest
way to death, and an escape out of their misery. All who dared to argue
against the current of popular and judicial delusion were instantly
refuted very effectively by being attacked for witchcraft themselves;
and once accused, there was little hope of escape. The Jesuit Delrio, in
a book published in 1599, states the witch killers' side of the
discussion very neatly indeed; for in one and the same chapter he defies
any opponents to disprove the existence of witchcraft, and then shows
that a denial of witchcraft is the worst of all heresies, and must be
punished with death. Quite a number of excellent and sensible people
were actually burnt on just this principle.
I do not undertake to give details of any witch trials; this sketch of
the way in which they operated is all I can make room for, and
sufficiently delineates this cruel and bloody humbug.
I have already referred to the fact that we have right here among us in
this city a very fair supply of a vulgar, dowdy kind of witchcraft.
Other countries are favored in like manner. I have not just now the most
recent information, but in the year 1857 and 1858, for instance, mobbing
and prosecutions growing out of a popular belief in witchcraft were
quite plentiful enough in various parts of Europe. No less than eight
cases of the kind in England alone were reported during those two years.
Among them was the actual murder of a woman as a witch by a mob in
Shropshire; and an attack by another mob in Essex, upon a perfectly
inoffensive person, on suspicion of having "bewitched" a scolding
ill-conditioned girl, from which attack the mob was diverted with much
difficulty, and thinking itself very unjustly treated. Some others of
those cases show a singular quantity of credulity among people of
respectability.
While therefore some of us may perhaps be justly thankful for safety
from such horrible follies as these, still we can not properly feel very
proud of the progress of humanity, since after not less than six
thousand years of existence and eighteen hundred of revelation, so many
believers in witchcraft still exist among the most civilized nations.
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.
It is worth while to print in plain English for my readers a good
selection of the very words which have been believed, or are still
believed, to possess magic power. Then any who choose, may operate by
themselves or may put some bold friend up in a corner, and blaze away at
him or her until they are wholly satisfied about the power of magic.
The Roman Cato, so famous for his grumness and virtue, believed that if
he were ill, it would much help him, and that it would cure sprains in
others, to say over these words: "Daries, dardaries, astaris, ista,
pista, sista," or, as another account has it, "motas, daries, dardaries,
astaries;" or, as still another account says, "Huat, huat, huat; ista,
pista, sista; domiabo, damnaustra." And sure enough, nothing is truer,
as any physician will tell you, that if the old censor only believed
hard enough, it would almost certainly help him; not by the force of the
words, but by the force of his own ancient Roman imagination. Here are
some Greek words of no less virtue: "_Aski, Kataski, Tetrax._" When the
Greek priests let out of their doors those who had been completely
initiated in the Eleusinian mysteries, they said to them last of all the
awful and powerful words, "_Konx, ompax_." If you want to know what the
usual result was, just say them to somebody, and you will see,
instantly. The ancient Hebrews believed that there was a secret name of
God, usually thought to be inexpressible, and only to be represented by
a mystic figure kept in the Temple, and that if any one could learn it,
and repeat it, he could rule the intelligent and unintelligent creation
at his will. It is supposed by some, that Jehovah is the word which
stands for this secret name; and some Hebraists think that the word
"Yahveh" is much more nearly the right one. The Mohammedans, who have
received many notions from the Jews, believe the same story about the
secret name of God, and they think it was engraved on Solomon's signet,
as all readers of the Arabian Nights will very well remember. The Jews
believed that if you pronounced the word "Satan" any evil spirit that
happened to be by could in consequence instantly pop into you if he
wished, and possess you, as the devils in the New Testament possessed
people.
Some ancient cities had a secret name, and it was believed that if their
enemies could find this out, they could conjure with it so as to destroy
such cities. Thus, the secret name of Rome was Valentia, and the word
was very carefully kept, with the intention that none should know it
except one or two of the chief pontiffs. Mr. Borrow, in one of his
books, tells about a charm which a gipsy woman knew, and which she used
to repeat to herself as a means of obtaining supernatural aid when she
happened to want it. This was, "Saboca enrecar maria ereria." He induced
her after much effort to repeat the words to him, but she always wished
she had not, with an evident conviction that some harm would result. He
explained to her that they consisted of a very simple phrase, but it
made no difference.
An ancient physician named Serenus Sammonicus, used to be quite sure of
curing fevers, by means of what he called Abracadabra, which was a sort
of inscription to be written on something and worn on the patient's
person. It was as follows:
ABRACADABRA
BRACADABR
RACADAB
ACADA
CAD
A.
Another gentleman of the same school used to cure sore eyes by hanging
round the patient's neck an inscription made up of only two letters, A
and Z; but how he mixed them we unfortunately do not know.
By the way, many of the German peasantry in the more ignorant districts
still believe that to write Abracadabra on a slip of paper and keep it
with you, will protect you from wounds, and that if your house is on
fire, to throw this strip into it will put the fire out.
Many charms or incantations call on God, Christ or some saints, just as
the heathen ones call on a spirit. Here is one for epilepsy that seems
to appeal to both religions, as if with a queer proviso against any
possible mistake about either. Taking the epileptic by the hand, you
whisper in his ear "I adjure thee by the sun and the moon and the gospel
of to-day, that thou arise and no more fall to the ground; in the name
of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost."
A charm for the cramp found in vogue in some rustic regions is this:
"The devil is tying a knot in my leg,
Mark, Luke and John, unloose it, I beg,
Crosses three we make to ease us--
Two for the thieves, and one for Christ Jesus."
Here is another, often used in Ireland, which in the same spirit of
superstition and ignorant irreverence uses the name of the Savior for a
slight human occasion. It is to cure the toothache, and requires the
repeating of the following string of words:
"St. Peter sitting on a marble stone, our Savior passing by, asked him
what was the matter. 'Oh Lord, a toothache!' Stand up, Peter, and follow
me; and whoever keeps these words in memory of me, shall never be
troubled with a toothache, Amen."
The English astrologer Lilly, after the death of his wife, formerly
a Mrs. Wright, found in a scarlet bag which she wore under her arm a
pure gold "sigil" or round plate worth about ten dollars in gold,
which the former husband of the defunct had used to exorcise a
spirit that plagued him. In case any of my readers can afford
bullion enough, and would like to drive away any such visitor, let
them get such a plate and have engraved round the edge of one side,
"Vicit Leo de tribus Judae tetragrammaton [cross]." Inside this
engrave a "holy lamb." Round the edge of the other side engrave
"Annaphel" and three crosses, thus: [cross] [cross] [cross]; and in
the middle, "Sanctus Petrus Alpha et Omega."
The witches have always had incantations, which they have used to make a
broom-stick into a horse, to kill or to sicken animals and persons, etc.
Most of these are sufficiently stupid, and not half so wonderful as one
I know, which may be found in a certain mysterious volume called "The
Girl's Own Book," and which, as I can depose, has often power to tickle
children. It is this:
"Bandy-legged Borachio Mustachio Whiskerifusticus, the bald and brave
Bombardino of Bagdad, helped Abomilique Bluebeard Bashaw of Babelmandel
beat down an abominable bumblebee at Balsora."
But to the other witches. Their charms were repeated sometimes in their
own language and sometimes in gibberish. When the Scotch witches wanted
to fly away to their "Witches' Sabbath," they straddled a broom-handle,
a corn stalk, a straw, or a rush, and cried out "Horse and hattock, in
the Devil's name!" and immediately away they flew, "forty times as high
as the moon," if they wished. Some English witches in Somersetshire used
instead to say, "Thout, tout, throughout and about;" and when they
wished to return from their meeting they said "Rentum, tormentum!" If
this form of the charm does not manufacture a horse, not even a
saw-horse, then I recommend another version of it, thus:
"Horse and pattock, horse and go!
Horse and pellats, ho, ho, ho!"
German witches said (in High Dutch:)
"Up and away!
Hi! Up aloft, and nowhere stay!"
Scotch witches had modes of working destruction to the persons or
property of those to whom they meant evil, which were strikingly like
the negro obeah or mandinga. One of these was, to make a hash of the
flesh of an unbaptised child, with that of dogs and sheep, and to put
this goodly dish in the house of the victim, reciting the following
rhyme:
"We put this untill this hame
In our Lord the Devil's name;
The first hands that handle thee.
Burned and scalded may they be!
We will destroy houses and hald,
With the sheep and nolt (_i. e._ cattle) into the fauld;
And little shall come to the fore (_i. e._ remain,)
Of all the rest of the little store."
Another, used to destroy the sons of a certain gentleman named Gordon
was, to make images for the boys, of clay and paste, and put them in a
fire, saying:
"We put this water among this meal
For long pining and ill heal,
We put it into the fire
To burn them up stock and stour (_i. e._ stack and band.)
That they be burned with our will,
Like any stikkle (stubble) in a kiln."
In case any lady reader finds herself changed into a hare, let her
remember how the witch Isobel Gowdie changed herself from hare back to
woman. It was by repeating:
"Hare, hare, God send thee care!
I am in a hare's likeness now;
But I shall be woman even now--
Hare, hare, God send thee care!"
About the year 1600 there was both hanged and burned at Amsterdam a poor
demented Dutch girl, who alleged that she could make cattle sterile, and
bewitch pigs and poultry by saying to them "Turius und Shurius
Inturius." I recommend to say this first to an old hen, and if found
useful it might then be tried on a pig.
Not far from the same time a woman was executed as a witch at Bamberg,
having, as was often the case, been forced by torture to make a
confession. She said that the devil had given her power to send diseases
upon those she hated, by saying complimentary things about them, as
"What a strong man!" "what a beautiful woman!" "what a sweet child!" It
is my own impression that this species of cursing may safely be tried
where it does not include a falsehood.
Here are two charms which the German witches used to repeat to raise the
devil with in the form of a he goat:
"Lalle, Bachea, Magotte, Baphia, Dajam,
Vagoth Heneche Ammi Nagaz, Adomator
Raphael Immanuel Christus, Tetragrammaton
Agra Jod Loi. Konig! Konig!"
The two last words to be screamed out quickly. This second one, it must
be remembered, is to be read backward except the two last words. It was
supposed to be the strongest of all, and was used if the first one
failed:
"Anion, Lalle, Sabolos, Sado, Poter, Aziel,
Adonai Sado Vagoth Agra, Jod,
Baphra! Komm! Komm!"
In case the devil staid too long, he could be made to take himself off
by addressing to him the following statement, repeated backward:
"Zellianelle Heotti Bonus Vagotha
Plisos sother osech unicus Beelzebub
Dax! Komm! Komm!"
Which would evidently make almost anybody go away.
A German charm to improve one's finances was perhaps no worse than
gambling in gold. It ran thus:
"As God be welcomed, gentle moon--
Make thou my money more and soon!"
To get rid of a fever in the German manner, go and tie up a bough of a
tree, saying, "Twig, I bind thee; fever, now leave me!" To give your
ague to a willow tree, tie three knots in a branch of it early in the
morning, and say, "Good morning, old one! I give thee the cold; good
morning, old one!" and turn and run away as fast as you can without
looking back.
Enough of this nonsense. It is pure mummery. Yet it is worth while to
know exactly what the means were which in ancient times were relied on
for such purposes, and it is not useless to put this matter on record;
for just such formulas are believed in now by many people. Even in this
city there are "witches" who humbug the more foolish part of the
community out of their money by means just as foolish as these.
VIII. ADVENTURERS.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
THE PRINCESS CARIBOO; OR, THE QUEEN OF THE ISLES.
Bristol was, in 1812, the second commercial city of Great Britain,
having in particular an extensive East India trade. Among its
inhabitants were merchants, reckoned remarkably shrewd, and many of them
very wealthy; and quite a number of aristocratic families, who were
looked up to with the abject toad-eating kind of civility that follows
"the nobility." On the whole, Bristol was a very fashionable, rich,
cultivated, and intelligent place--considering.
One fine evening in the winter of 1812-13, the White Lion hotel, a
leading inn at Bristol, was thrown into a wonderful flutter by the
announcement that a very beautiful and fabulously wealthy lady, the
Princess Cariboo, had just arrived by ship from an oriental port. Her
agent, a swarthy and wizened little Asiatic, who spoke imperfect
English, gave this information, and ordered the most sumptuous suite of
rooms in the house. Of course, there was great activity in all manner of
preparations; and the mysterious character of this lovely but high-born
stranger caused a wonderful flutter of excitement, which grew and grew
until the fair stranger at length deigned to arrive. She came at about
ten o'clock, in great state, and with two or three coaches packed with
servants and luggage--the former of singularly dingy complexion and
fantastic vestments, and the latter of the most curious forms and
material imaginable. The eager anticipations of hosts and guests alike
were not only fully justified but even exceeded by the rare beauty of
the unknown, the oriental style and magnificence of her attire and that
of her attendants, and the enormous bulk of her baggage--a circumstance
that has no less weight at an English inn than any where else. The
stranger, too, was most liberal with her fees to the servants, which
were always in gold.
It was quickly discovered that her ladyship spoke not one word of
English, and even her agent--a dark, wild, queer little fellow,--got
along with it but indifferently, preferring all his requests in very
"broken China" indeed. The landlord thought it a splendid opportunity to
create a long bill, and got up rooms and a dinner in flaring style, with
wax candles, a mob of waiters, ringing of bells, and immense ceremony.
But the lady, like a real princess, while well enough pleased and very
gracious, took all this as a matter of course, and preferred her own
cook, a flat-faced, pug-nosed, yellow-breeched and almond-eyed Oriental,
with a pigtail dangling from his scalp, which was shaved clean,
excepting at the back of the head. This gentleman ran about in the
kitchen-yard with queer little brass utensils, wherein he concocted
sundry diabolical preparations--as they seemed to the English servants
to be,--of herbs, rice, curry powder, etc., etc., for the repast of his
mistress. For the next three or four days, the White Lion was in a
state bordering upon frenzy, at the singular deportment of the
"Princess" and her numerous attendants. The former arrayed herself in
the most astonishing combinations of apparel that had ever been seen by
the good gossips of Bristol, and the latter indulged in gymnastic antics
and vocal chantings that almost deafened the neighborhood. There was a
peculiar nasal ballad in which they were fond of indulging, that
commenced about midnight and kept up until well nigh morning, that drove
the neighbors almost beside themselves. It sounded like a concert by a
committee of infuriated cats, and wound up with protracted whining
notes, commencing in a whimper, and then with a sudden jerk, bursting
into a loud, monotonous howl. Yet, withal, these attendants, who slept
on mats, in the rooms adjacent to that of their mistress, and fed upon
the preparations of her own cuisine, were, in the main, very civil and
inoffensive, and seemed to look upon the Princess with the utmost awe.
The "agent," or "secretary," or "prime-minister," or whatever he might
be called, was very mysterious as to the objects, purposes, history, and
antecedents of her Highness, and the quidnuncs were in despair until,
one morning, the "Bristol Mirror," then a leading paper, came out with a
flaring announcement, expressing the pleasure it felt in acquainting the
public with the fact, that a very eminent and interesting foreign
personage had arrived from her home in the remotest East to proffer His
Majesty, George III, the unobstructed commerce and friendship of her
realm, which was as remarkable for its untold wealth as for its
marvelous beauty. The lady was described as a befitting representative
of the loveliness and opulence of this new Golconda and Ophir in one,
since her matchless wealth and munificence were approached only by her
ravishing personal charms. The other papers took up the topic, and were
even more extravagant. "Felix Farley's Journal" gave a long narrative of
her wanderings and extraordinary adventures in the uttermost East, as
gleaned, of course, from her garrulous agent. The island of her chief
residence was described as being of vast extent and fertility, immensely
rich and populous, and possessing many rare and beautiful arts unknown
to the nations of Europe. The princess had become desperately enamored
of a certain young Englishman of high rank, who had been shipwrecked on
her coast, but had afterward escaped, and as she learned, safely reached
a port in China, and thence departed for Europe. The Princess had
hereupon set out upon her journeyings over the world in search of him.
In order to facilitate her enterprise, and softened by the deep
affection she felt for the son of Albion, she had determined to break
through the usages of her country, and form an alliance with that of her
beloved.
Such were the statements everywhere put in circulation; and when the
Longbows of the place got full hold of it, Gulliver, Peter Wilkins, and
Sinbad the Sailor were completely eclipsed. Diamonds as big as hen's
eggs, and pearls the size of hazelnuts, were said to be the commonest
buttons and ornaments the Princess wore, and her silks and shawls were
set beyond all price.
The announcement of this romantic and mysterious history, this boundless
wealth, this interesting mission from majesty to majesty in person and
the reality which every one could see of so much grace and beauty,
supplied all that was wanting to set the upper-tendom of the place in a
blaze. It was hardly etiquette for a royal visitor to receive much
company before having been presented at Court; but as this princely lady
came from a point so far outside of the pale of Christendom, and all its
formalities, it was deemed not out of place, to show her befitting
attentions; and the ice once broken, there was no arresting the flood.
The aristocracy of Bristol vied with each other in seeing who should be
first and most extravagant in their demonstrations. The street in front
of the "White Lion" was day after day blocked up, with elegant
equipages, and her reception-rooms thronged with "fair women and brave
men." Milliners and mantuamakers pressed upon the lovely and mysterious
Princess Cariboo the most exquisite hats, dresses, and laces, just to
acquaint her with the fashionable style and solicit her distinguished
patronage; dry-goodsmen sent her rare patterns of their costliest and
richest stuffs, perfumers their most exquisite toilet-cases, filled with
odors sweet; jewellers, their most superb sets of gems; and florists and
visitors nearly suffocated her with the scarcest and most delicate
exotics. Pictures, sketches, and engravings, oil-paintings, and
portraits on ivory of her rapturous admirers, poured in from all sides,
and her own fine form and features were reproduced by a score of
artists. Daily she was fêted, and nightly serenaded, until the Princess
Cariboo became the furore of the United Kingdom. Magnificent
entertainments were given her in private mansions; and at length, to cap
the climax, Mr. Worrall, the Recorder of Bristol, managed, by his
influence, to bring about for her a grand municipal reception in the
town-hall, and people from far and near thronged to it in thousands.
In the meantime the papers were gravely trying to make out whether the
Cariboo country meant some remote portion of Japan, or the Island of
Borneo, or some comparatively unfamiliar archipelago in the remotest
East, and the "Mirror" was publishing type expressly cut for the purpose
of representing the characters of the language in which the Princess
spoke and wrote. They were certainly very uncouth, and pretended sages,
who knew very well that there was no one to contradict them, declared
that they were "ancient Coptic!"
Upon reading the sequel of the story, one is irresistibly reminded of
the ancient Roman inscription discovered by one of Dickens' characters,
which some irreverent rogue subsequently declared to be nothing more nor
less than "Bil Stumps His Mark."
All this went on for about a fortnight, until the whole town and a good
deal of the surrounding country had made complete fools of themselves,
and only the "naughty little boys" in the streets held out against the
prevailing mania, probably because they were not admitted to the sport.
Their salutations took the form of an inharmonious thoroughfare-ballad,
the chorus of which terminated with:
"Boo! hoo! hoo!
And who's the Princess Cariboo?"
yelled out at the top of their voices.
At length one day, the luggage of her Highness was embarked upon a small
vessel to be taken round by water to London, while she announced,
through her "agent," her intention to reach the capital by
post-coaching.
Of course, the most superb traveling-carriages and teams were placed at
her disposal; but, courteously declining all these offers, she set out
in the night-time with a hired establishment, attended by her retinue.
Days and weeks rolled on, and yet no announcement came of the arrival of
her Highness at London or at any of the intervening cities after the
first two or three towns eastward of Bristol. Inquiry began to be made,
and, after long and patient but unavailing search, it became apparent to
divers and sundry dignitaries in the old town that somebody had been
very particularly "sold."
The landlord at the "White Lion" who had accepted the agent's order for
£1,000 on a Calcutta firm in London; poor Mr. Worrall, who had been
Master of Ceremonies at the town hall affair, and had spent large sums
of money; and the tradespeople and others who sent their finest goods,
all felt that they had "heard something drop." The Princess Cariboo had
disappeared as mysteriously as she came.
For years, the people of Bristol were unmercifully ridiculed throughout
the entire Kingdom on account of this affair, and burlesque songs and
plays immortalized its incidents for successive seasons.
One of these insisted that the Princess was no other than an actress of
more notoriety than note, humbly born in the immediate vicinity of the
old city, where she practiced this gigantic hoax, and that she had been
assisted in it by a set of dissolute young noblemen and actors, who
furnished the money she had spent, got up the oriental dresses,
published the fibs, and fomented the excitement. At all events, the net
profit to her and her confederates in the affair must have been some
£10,000.
Within a few months, and since the first publication of the above
paragraphs, the English newspapers have recorded the death of the
"Princess Cariboo," who it appears afterward married in her own rank in
life and spent a considerable number of years of usefulness in the leech
trade--an occupation not without a metaphorical likeness to her early
and more ambitious exploit.
CHAPTER XL.
COUNT CAGLIOSTRO, ALIAS JOSEPH BALSAMO, KNOWN ALSO AS "CURSED JOE."
One of the most striking, amusing, and instructive pages in the history
of humbug is the life of Count Alessandro di Cagliostro, whose real name
was Joseph or Giuseppe Balsamo. He was born at Palermo, in 1743, and
very early began to manifest his brilliant talents for roguery.
He ran away from his first boarding-school, at the age of eleven or
twelve, getting up a masquerade of goblins, by the aid of some scampish
schoolfellows, which frightened the monkish watchmen of the gates away
from their posts, nearly dead with terror. He had gained little at this
school, except the pleasant surname of Beppo Maldetto (or cursed Joe.)
At the age of thirteen he was a second time expelled from the convent of
Cartegirone, belonging to the order of Benfratelli, the good fathers
having in vain endeavored to train him up in the way he should go.
While in this convent, the boy was in charge of the apothecary, and
probably picked up more or less of the smattering of chemistry and
physics which he afterwards used. His final offence was a ridiculous and
characteristic one. He was a greedy and thievish fellow, and was by way
of penalty set to read aloud about the ancient martyrs, those dry though
pious old gentlemen, while the monks ate dinner. Thus put to what he
liked least, and deprived of what he liked best, he impudently
extemporized, instead of the stories of holy agonies, all the indecorous
scandal he could think of about the more notorious disreputable women of
Palermo, putting their names instead of those of the martyrs.
After this, Master Joe proceeded to distinguish himself by forging
opera-tickets, and even documents of various kinds, indiscriminate
pilfering and swindling, interpreting visions, conjuring, and finally,
it is declared, a touch of genuine assassination.
Pretty soon he made a foolish, greedy goldsmith, one Marano, believe
that there was a treasure hidden in the sand on the sea-shore near
Palermo, and induced the silly man to go one night to dig it up. Having
reached the spot, the dupe was made to strip himself to his shirt and
drawers, a magic circle was drawn round him with all sorts of raw-head
and bloody-bones ceremonies, and Beppo, exhorting him not to leave the
ring, lest the spirits should kill him, stepped out of sight to make the
incantations to raise them. Almost instantly, six devils, horned,
hoofed, tailed, and clawed, breathing fire and smoke, leaped from among
the rocks and beat the wretched goldsmith senseless, and almost to
death. They were of course Cursed Joe and some confederates; and taking
Marano's money and valuables, they left him. He got home in wretched
plight, but had sense enough left to suspect Master Joe, whom he shortly
promised, after the Sicilian manner, to assassinate. So Joe ran away
from Palermo, and went to Messina. Here he said he fell in with a
venerable humbug, named Athlotas, an "Armenian Sage," who united his
talents with Beppo's own, in making a peculiar preparation of flax and
hemp and passing it off upon the people of Alexandria, in Egypt, as a
new kind of silk. This feat made not only a sensation but plenty of
money; and the two swindlers now traversed Greece, Turkey, and Arabia,
in various directions, stirring up the Oriental "old fogies" in amazing
style. Harems and palaces, according to Cagliostro's own apocryphal
story, were thrown open to them everywhere, and while the Scherif of
Mecuca took Balsao under his high protection, one of the Grand Muftis
actually gave him splendid apartments in his own abode. It is only
necessary to reflect upon the unbounded reverence felt by all good
Mussulmen for these exalted dignitaries, to comprehend the height of
distinction thus attained by the Palermo thimble-rigger. But, among the
many obscure records that exist in the Italian, French, and German
languages, touching this arch impostor, there is a hint of a night
adventure in the harem of a high and mighty personage, at Mecca, whereby
the latter was put out of doors, with his robes torn and his beard
singed, by his own domestics, and left to wander in the streets, while
Beppo, in disguise, received the salaams and sequins of the
establishment, including the attentions of the fair ones therein caged,
for an entire night. His escape to the seacoast after this adventure was
almost miraculous; but escape he did, and shortly afterward turned up in
Rome, with the title (conferred by himself) of Count Cagliostro, the
reputation of enormous wealth, and genuine and enthusiastic letters of
recommendation from Pinto, Grand Master of the Knights of Malta. Pinto
was an alchymist, and had been fooled to the top of his bent by the
cunning Joseph.
These letters introduced our humbug into the first families of Rome;
who, like some other first families, were first also as fools. He also
married a very beautiful, very shrewd, and very wicked Roman donzella,
Lorenza Feliciani by name; and the worthy couple, combining their
various talents, and regarding the world as their oyster, at once
proceeded to open it in the most scientific style. I cannot follow this
wonderful human chameleon in all his transformations under his various
names of Fischio, Melissa, Fenice, Anna, Pellegrini, Harat, and
Belmonte, nor state the studies and processes by which he picked up
sufficient knowledge of physic, chemistry, the hidden properties of
numbers, astronomy, astrology, mesmerism, clairvoyance, and the genuine
old-fashioned "black art;" but suffice it to say, that he travelled
through every part of Europe, and set it in a blaze with excitement.
There were always enough of silly coxcombs, young and old, of high
degree, to be allured by the siren smiles of his "Countess;" and dupes
of both sexes everywhere, to swallow his yarns and gape at his
juggleries. In the course of his rambles, he paid a visit to his great
brother humbug, the Count of St. Germain, in Westphalia, or Schleswig,
and it was not long afterward that he began to publish to the world his
grand discoveries in Alchemy, of the Philosopher's Stone, and the Elixir
of Life, or Waters of Perpetual Youth. These and many similar wonders
were declared to be the result of his investigations under the Arch of
Old Egyptian Masonry, which degree he claimed to have revived. This
notion of Egyptian Masonry, Cagliostro is said to have found in some
manuscripts left by one George Cofton, which fell into our quack's
hands. This degree was to give perfection to human beings, by means of
moral and physical regeneration. Of these two the former was to be
secured by means of a Pentagon, which removes original sin and renews
pristine innocence. The physical kind of regeneration was to be brought
about by using the "prime matter" or philosopher's stone, and the
"Acacia," which two ingredients will give immortal youth. In this new
structure, he assumed the title of the "Grand Cophta" and actually
claimed the worship of his followers; declaring that the institution had
been established by Enoch and Elias, and that he had been summoned by
"spiritual" agencies to restore it to its pristine glory. In fact, this
pretension, which influenced thousands upon thousands of believers, was
one of the most daring impostures that ever saw the light; and it is
astounding to think that, so late as 1780, it should, for a long time,
have been entirely successful. The preparatory course of exercises for
admission to the mystic brotherhood has been described as a series of
"purgation, starvation, and desperation," lasting for forty days! and
ending in "physical regeneration" and an immortality on earth. The
celebrated Lavater, a mild and genial, but feeble man, became one of
Cagliostro's disciples, and was bamboozled to his heart's content--in
fact, made to believe that the Count could put the devil into him, or
take him out, as the case might be.
The wondrous "Water of Beauty," that made old wrinkled faces look young,
smooth, and blooming again, was the special merchandise of the Countess,
and was, of course, in great request among the faded beaux and dowagers
of the day, who were easily persuaded of their own restored loveliness.
The transmutation of baser metals into gold usually terminated in the
transmigration of all the gold his victims had into the Count's own
purse.
In 1776, the Count and Countess came to London. Here, funnily enough,
they fell into the hands of a gambler, a shyster, and a female scamp,
who together tormented them almost to death, because the Count would
not pick them out lucky numbers to gamble by. They persecuted him fairly
into jail, and plagued and outswindled him so awfully, that, after a
time, the poor Count sneaked back to the Continent with only fifty
pounds left out of three thousand which he had brought with him.
One incident of Cagliostro's English experience was the affair of the
"Arsenical Pigs"--a notice of which may be found in the "Public
Advertiser," of London of September 3, 1786. A Frenchman named Morande,
was at that time editing there a paper in his own language, entitled "Le
Courrier de l'Europe," and lost no opportunity to denounce the Count as
a humbug. Cagliostro, at length, irritated by these repeated attacks,
published in the "Advertiser" an open challenge, offering to forfeit
five thousand guineas if Morande should not be found dead in his bed on
the morning after partaking of the flesh of a pig, to be selected by
himself from among a drove fattened by the Count--the cooking, etc., all
to be done at Morande's own house, and under his own eye. The time was
fixed for this singular repast, but when it came round, the French
Editor "backed down" completely, to the great delight of his opponent
and his credulous followers.
Cagliostro and his spouse now resumed their travels upon the Continent,
and, by their usual arts and trades, in a great measure renewed their
fallen fortunes. Among other new dodges, he now assumed so supernatural
a piety that (he said) he could distinguish an unbeliever by the smell!
which, of course, was just the opposite of the "odor of sanctity." The
Count's claim to have lived for hundreds of years was, by some,
thoroughly believed. He ascribed his immortality to his own Elixir, and
his comparatively youthful appearance to his "Water of Beauty," his
Countess readily assisting him by speaking of her son, a Colonel in the
Dutch service, fifty years old, while she appeared scarcely more than
twenty.
At length, in Rome, he and the Countess fell into the clutches of the
Holy Office; and both having been tried for their manifold offences
against the Church, were found guilty, and, in spite of their contrition
and eager confessions, immured for life; the Count within the walls of
the Castle of Sante Leone, in the Duchy of Urbino, where, after eight
years' imprisonment, he died in 1795, and the Countess in a suburban
convent, where she died some time after.
The portraits of Cagliostro, of which a number are extant, are pictures
of a strong-built, bull-necked, fat, gross man, with a snub nose, a
vulgar face, a look of sensuality and low hypocritical cunning.
The celebrated story of "The Diamond Necklace," in which Cagliostro,
Marie Antoinette, the Cardinal de Rohan, and others were mixed in such a
hodge-podge of rascality and folly, must form a narrative by itself.
CHAPTER XLI.
THE DIAMOND NECKLACE.
In my sketch of Joseph Balsamo, alias the Count Alessandro de
Cagliostro, I referred to the affair of the diamond necklace, known in
French history as the _Collier de la Reine_, or Queen's necklace, from
the manner in which the name and reputation of Marie Antoinette, the
consort of Louis XVI, became entangled in it. I shall now give a brief
account of this celebrated imposition--perhaps the boldest and shrewdest
ever known, and almost wholly the work of a woman.
On the Quai de la Ferraille, not far from the Pont Neuf, stood the
establishment, part shop, part manufactory, of Messrs. Boehmer &
Bassange, the most celebrated jewelers of their day. After triumphs
which had given them world-wide fame during the reign of Louis XV, and
made them fabulously rich, they determined, with the advent of Louis
XVI, to eclipse all their former efforts and crown the professional
glory of their lives. Their correspondents in every chief jewel market
of the world were summoned to aid their enterprise, and in the course of
some two or three years they succeeded in collecting the finest and most
remarkable diamonds that could be procured in the whole world of
commerce.
The next idea was to combine all these superb fragments in one grand
ornament to grace the form of beauty. A necklace was the article fixed
upon, and the best experience and most delicate taste that Europe could
boast were expended on the design. Each and every diamond was specially
set and faced in such manner as to reveal its excellence to the utmost
advantage, and all were arranged together in the style best calculated
to harmonize their united effect. Form, shape, and the minutest shades
of color were studied, and the result, after many attempts and many
failures, and the anxious labor of many months, was the most exquisite
triumph that the genius of the lapidary and the goldsmith could
conceive.
The whole necklace consisted of three triple rows of diamonds, or nine
rows in all, containing eight hundred faultless gems. The triple rows
fell away from each in the most graceful and flexible curves over each
side of the breast and each shoulder of the wearer, the curves starting
from the throat, whence a magnificent pendant, depending from a single
knot of diamonds, each as large as a hazel-nut, hung down half way upon
the bosom in the design of a cross and crown, surrounded by the lilies
of the royal house--the lilies themselves dangling on stems which were
strung with smaller jewels. Rich clusters and festoons spread from the
loop over each shoulder, and the central loop on the back of the neck
was joined in a pattern of emblematic magnificence corresponding with
that in front.
It was in 1782 that this grand work was finally completed, and the happy
owners gloated with delight over a monument of skill as matchless in its
way as the Pyramids themselves. But, alas! the necklace might as well
have been constructed of the common boulders piled in those same
pyramids as of the finest jewels of the mine, for all the good it seemed
destined to bring the poor jewelers, beyond the rapture of beholding it
and calling it theirs.
The necklace was worth 1,500,000 francs, equivalent to more than
$300,000 in gold, as money then went, or nearly $500,000 in gold,
now-a-days. Rather too large a sum to keep locked up in a casket, the
reader will confess! And then it seems that Messrs. Boehmer & Bassange
had not entirely paid for it yet. They had ten creditors on the diamonds
in different countries, and an immense capital still locked up in their
other jewelry.
Of course, then, after their first delight had subsided, they were most
anxious to sell an article that had to be constantly and painfully
watched, and that might so easily disappear. How many a nimble-fingered
and stout-hearted rogue would not, in those days, have imperiled a dozen
lives to clutch that blazing handful of dross, convertible into an
Elysium of pomp and pleasure! It would hardly have been a safe noonday
plaything in moral Gotham, let alone the dissolute Paris of eighty years
ago!
The first thought, of course, that kindled in the breasts of Boehmer and
Bassange was, that the only proper resting-place for their matchless
bauble was the snowy neck of the Queen Marie Antoinette, then the
admired and beloved of all! Her peerless beauty alone could live in the
glow of such supernal splendor, and the French throne was the only one
in Christendom that could sustain such glittering weight. Moreover, the
Queen had already once been a good customer to the court jewelers, for
in 1774 she bought four diamonds of them for $75,000.
Louis XV would not have hesitated to fling it on the shoulders of the Du
Barry, and Louis XVI, in spite of his odd notions upon economy and just
administration, easily listened to the delicate insinuations of his
court-jewelers; and, one fine morning, laid the necklace in its casket
on the table of his Queen. Her Majesty, for a moment, yielded to the
promptings of feminine weakness, and danced and laughed with the glee of
an overjoyed child in the new sunshine of those burning, sparkling,
dazzling gems. Once and once only she placed it on her neck and breast,
and probably the world has never before or since seen such a countenance
in such a setting. It was almost the head of an angel shining in the
glory of the spheres. But a better thought prevailed, and quickly
removing it, she, with a wave of her beautiful hand, declined the gift
and besought the King to apply the sum to any other purpose that would
be useful or honorable to France, whose finances were sadly straitened.
"We want ships of war more than we do necklaces," said she. The King was
really delighted at this act of the Queen's, and the incident soon
becoming widely known, gave the latter immense popularity for at least
twenty-four hours after it occurred. In fact, the amount was really
applied to the construction of a grand line-of-battle ship called the
Suffren, after the great Admiral of that name.
Boehmer, who seems to have been the business manager of the jeweler
firm, found his necklace as troublesome as the cobbler did the elephant
he won in a raffle, and tried so perseveringly to induce the Queen to
buy it, that he became a real torment. She seems to have thought him a
little cracked on the subject; and one day, when he obtained a private
audience, he besought her either to buy the necklace or to let him go
and drown himself in the Seine. Out of all patience, the Queen intimated
that he would have been wiser to secure a customer to begin with; that
she would not buy; that if he chose to throw himself into the Seine it
would be entirely on his own responsibility; and that as for the
necklace, he had better pick it to pieces and sell it. The poor German
(for Boehmer was a native of Saxony) departed in deep distress, but
accepted neither his own suggestion nor the Queen's.
For some months after this, the court jewelers busied themselves in
peddling their necklace about among the courts of Europe. But none of
these concerns found it convenient just then to pay out three hundred
and sixty thousand dollars for a concatenation of eight hundred
diamonds; and still the sparkling elephant remained on the jewelers'
hands.
Time passed on. Madame Campan, one of the Queen's confidential ladies,
happened to meet Boehmer one day, and the necklace was alluded to.
"What is the state of affairs about the necklace," asked the lady.
"Highly satisfactory," replied Boehmer, whose serenity of countenance
Madame Campan had already remarked. "I have sold it to the Sultan at
Constantinople, for his favorite Sultana."
This the lady thought rather curious, but she was glad the thing was
disposed of, and said no more.
Time passed on again. In the beginning of August 1785, Boehmer took the
trouble to call on Madame Campan at her country-house, somewhat to her
surprise.
"Has the Queen given you no message for me?" he inquired.
"No!" said the lady; "What message should she give?"
"An answer to my note," said the jeweler.
Madame remembered a note which the Queen had received from Boehmer a
little while before, along with some ornaments sent by his hands to her
as a present from the King. It congratulated her on having the finest
diamonds in Europe, and hoped she would remember him. The Queen could
make nothing of it, and destroyed it. Madame Campan therefore replied,
"There is no answer, the Queen burned the note. She does not even
understand what you meant by writing that note."
This statement very quickly elicited from the now startled German a
story which astounded the lady. He said the Queen owed him the first
instalment of the money for the diamond necklace; that she had bought it
after all; that the story about the Sultana was a lie told by her
directions to hide the fact; since the Queen meant to pay by
instalments, and did not wish the purchase known. And Boehmer said, she
had employed the Cardinal de Rohan to buy the necklace for her, and it
had been delivered to him for her, and by him to her.
Now the Queen, as Madame Campan knew very well, had always strongly
disliked this Cardinal; he had even been kept from attending at Court in
consequence, and she had not so much as spoken to him for years. And so
Madame Campan told Boehmer, and further she told him he had been imposed
upon.
"No," said the man of sparklers decisively, "It is you who are deceived.
She is decidedly friendly to the cardinal. I have myself the documents
with her own signature authorizing the transaction, for I have had to
let the bankers see them in order to get a little time on my own
payments."
Here was a monstrous mystification for the lady of honor, who told
Boehmer to instantly go and see his official superior, the chief of the
king's household. She herself being very soon afterwards summoned to the
Queen's presence, the affair came up, and she told the Queen all she
knew about it. Marie Antoinette was profoundly distressed by the evident
existence of a great scandal and swindle, with which she was plainly to
be mixed up through the forged signatures to the documents which Boehmer
had been relying on.
Now for the Cardinal.
Louis de Rohan, a scion of the great house of Rohan, one of the proudest
of France, was descended of the blood royal of Brittany; was a handsome,
proud, dissolute, foolish, credulous, unprincipled noble, now almost
fifty years old, a thorough rake, of large revenues, but deeply in debt.
He was Peer of France, Archbishop of Strasburg, Grand Almoner of France,
Commander of the Order of the Holy Ghost, Commendator of the benefice of
St. Wast d'Arras, said to be the most wealthy in Europe, and a
Cardinal. He had been ambassador at Vienna a little after Marie
Antoinette was married to the Dauphin, and while there had taken
advantage of his official station to do a tremendous quantity of
smuggling. He had also further and most deeply offended the Empress
Maria Theresa, by outrageous debaucheries, by gross irreligion, and
above all by a rather flat but in effect stingingly satirical
description of her conduct about the partition of Poland. This she never
forgave him, neither did her daughter Marie Antoinette; and accordingly,
when he presented himself at Paris soon after she became Queen, he
received a curt repulse, and an intimation that he had better go
to--Strasburg.
Now in those days a sentence of exclusion from Court was to a French
noble but just this side of a banishment to Tophet; and de Rohan was
just silly enough to feel this infliction most intensely. He went
however, and from that time onward, for year after year, lived the life
of a persevering Adam thrust out of his paradise, hanging about the gate
and trying all possible ways to sneak in again. Once, for instance, he
had induced the porter at the palace of the Trianon to let him get
inside the grounds during an illumination, and was recognized by the
glow of his cardinal's red stockings from under his cloak. But he was
only laughed at for his pains; the porter was turned off, and the poor
silly miserable cardinal remained "out in the cold," breaking his heart
over his exclusion from the most tedious mess of conventionalities that
ever was contrived--except those of the court of Spain.
About 1783, this great fool fell in with an equally great knave, who
must be spoken of here, where he begins to converge along with the rest,
towards the explosion of the necklace swindle. This was Cagliostro, who
at that time came to Strasburg and created a tremendous excitement with
his fascinating Countess, his Egyptian masonry, his Spagiric Food (a
kind of Brandreth's pill of the period,) which he fed out to poor sick
people, his elixir of life, and other humbugs.
The Cardinal sent an intimation that he would like to see the quack. The
quack, whose impudence was far greater than the Cardinal's pride, sent
back this sublime reply: "If he is sick let him come to me, and I will
cure him. If he is well, he does not need to see me, nor I him."
This piece of impudence made the fool of a cardinal more eager than
ever. After some more affected shyness, Cagliostro allowed himself to be
seen. He was just the man to captivate the Cardinal, and they were
quickly intimate personal friends, practising transmutation, alchemy,
masonry, and still more particularly conducting a great many experiments
on the Cardinal's remarkably fine stock of Tokay wine. Whatever poor de
Rohan had to do, he consulted Cagliostro about it, and when the latter
went to Switzerland, his dupe maintained a constant communication with
him in cipher.
Lastly is to be mentioned Jeanne de St. Remi, Countess de Lamotte de
Valois de France, the chief scoundrel, if the term may be used of a
woman--of the necklace affair. She seems to have been really a
descendant of the royal house of Valois, to which Francis I. belonged;
through an illegitimate son of Henry II. created Count de St. Remi. The
family had run down and become poor and rascally, one of Jeanne's
immediate ancestors having practiced counterfeiting for a living. She
herself had been protected by a certain kind hearted Countess de
Boulainvilliers; was receiving a small pension from the Court of about
$325 a year; had married a certain tall soldier named Lamotte; had come
to Paris, and was living in poverty in a garret, hovering about as it
were for a chance to better her circumstances. She was a quick-witted,
bright-eyed, brazen-faced hussy, not beautiful, but with lively pretty
ways, and indeed somewhat fascinating.
Her protectress, the countess de Boulainvilliers, was now dead; while
she was alive Jeanne had once visited her at de Rohan's palace of
Saverne, and had thus scraped a slight acquaintance with the gay
Cardinal, which she resumed during her abode at Paris.
Everybody at Paris knew about the Diamond Necklace, and about de Rohan's
desire to get into court favor. This sharp-witted female swindler now
came in among the elements I have thus far been describing, to frame
necklace, jeweller, cardinal, queen, and swindler, all together into her
plot, just as the key-stone drops into an arch and locks it up tight.
No mortal knows where ideas come from. Suddenly a conception is in the
mind, whence, or how, we do not know, any more than we know Life. The
devil himself might have furnished that which now popped into the
cunning, wicked mind of this adventuress. This is what she saw all at
once:
Boehmer is crazy to sell his necklace. De Rohan is crazy after the
Queen's favor. I am crazy after money. Now if I can make De Rohan think
that the Queen wants the necklace, and will become his friend in return
for his helping her to it; if I can make him think I am her agent to
him, then I can steal the diamonds in their transit.
A wonderfully cunning and hardy scheme! And most wonderful was the cool,
keen promptitude with which it was executed.
The countess began to hint to the cardinal that she was fast getting
into the Queen's good graces, by virtue of being a capital gossip and
story-teller; and that she had frequent private audiences. Soon she
added intimations that the Queen was far from being really so displeased
with the cardinal, as he supposed. At this the old fool bit instantly,
and showed the keenest emotions of hope and delight. On a further
suggestion, he presently drew up a letter or memoir humbly and
plaintively stating his case, which the countess undertook to put into
the Queen's hands. It was the first of over _two hundred_ notes from
him, notes of abasement, beseeching argument, expostulation, and so on,
all entrusted to Jeanne. She burnt them, I suppose.
In order to make her dupe sure that she told the truth about her access
to the Queen, Jeanne more than once made him go and watch her enter a
side gate into the grounds of the Trianon palace, to which she had
somehow obtained a key; and after waiting he saw her come out again,
sometimes under the escort of a man, who was, she said one Desclos, a
confidential valet of the Queen. This was Villette de Rétaux, a "pal"
of Jeanne's and of her husband Lamotte, who had, by the way, become a
low-class gambler and swindler by occupation.
Next Jeanne talked about the Queen's charities; and on one occasion,
told how much the amiable Marie Antoinette longed to expend certain sums
for benevolent purposes if she only had them--but she was out of funds,
and the King was so close about money!
The poor cardinal bit again--"If the Queen would only allow him the
honor to furnish the little amount!"
The countess evidently hadn't thought of that. She reflected--hesitated.
The cardinal urged. She consented--it was not much--and was so kind as
to carry the cash herself. At their next meeting she reported that the
Queen was delighted, telling a very nice story about it. The cardinal
would only be too happy to do so again. And sure enough he did, and
quite a number of times too; contributing in all to the funds of the
countess in this manner, about $25,000.
Well: after a time the cardinal is at Strasburg, when he receives a note
from the countess that brings him back again as quick as post-horses can
carry him. It says that there is something very important, very secret,
very delicate, that the queen wants his help about. He is overflowing
with zeal. What is it? Only let him know--his life, his purse, his soul,
are at the service of his liege lady.
His purse is all that is needed. With infinite shyness and
circumspection, the countess gradually, half unwillingly, lets him find
out that it is the diamond necklace that the Queen wants. By diabolical
ingenuities of talk she leads de Rohan to the full conviction that if he
secures the Queen that necklace, he will thenceforward bask in all the
sunshine of court favor that she can show or control.
And at proper times sundry notes from the Queen are bestowed upon the
enraptured noodle. These are written in imitation of the Queen's
handwriting, by that Villette de Rétaux who personated the Queen's
valet, and who was an expert at counterfeiting.
A last and sublime summit of impudent pretension is reached by a secret
interview which the Queen, says the countess, desires to grant to her
beloved servant the cardinal. This suggestion was rendered practicable
by one of those mere coincidences which are found though rarely in
history, and which are too improbable to put into a novel--the casual
discovery of a young woman of loose character who looked much like the
Queen. Whether her name was d'Essigny or Gay d'Oliva, is uncertain; she
is usually called by the latter. She was hired and taught; and with
immense precautions, this ostrich of a cardinal was one night introduced
into the gardens of the Trianon, and shown a little nook among the
thickets where a stately female in the similitude of the Queen received
him with soft spoken words of kindly greeting, allowed him to kneel and
kiss a fair and shapely hand, and showed no particular timidity of any
kind. Yet the interview had scarcely more than begun before steps were
heard. "Some one is coming," exclaimed the lady, "it is Monsieur and
Madame d'Artois--We must part. There"--she gave him a red rose--"You
know what that means! Farewell!" And away they went--Mademoiselle
d'Oliva to report to her employers, and the cardinal, in a seventh
heaven of ineffable tomfoolery, to his hotel.
But the interview, and the lovely little notes that came sometimes,
"fixed" the necklace business! And if further encouragement had been
needed, Cagliostro gave it. For the cardinal now consulted him about the
future of the affair, having indeed kept him fully informed about it for
a long time, as he did of all matters of interest. So the quack set up
his tabernacles of mummery in a parlor of the cardinal's hotel, and
conducted an Egyptian Invocation there all night long in solitude and
pomp; and in the morning he decreed (in substance) "go ahead." And the
cardinal did so. Boehmer and Bassange were only too happy to bargain
with the great and wealthy church and state dignitary. A memorandum of
terms and time of payment was drawn up, and was submitted to the Queen.
That is, swindling Jeanne carried it off, and brought it back, with an
entry made by Villette de Rétaux in the margin, thus: "_Bon,
bon--Approuvé, Marie Antoinette de France_." That is, "Good, good--I
approve. Marie Antoinette de France." The payment was to be by
instalments, at six months, and quarterly afterwards; the Queen to
furnish the money to the cardinal, while he remained ostensibly holden
to the jewellers, she thus keeping out of sight.
So the jewels were handed over to the cardinal de Rohan; he took them
one evening in great state to the lodgings of the countess, where with
all imaginable formality there came a knock at the door, and when it was
open a tall valet entered who said solemnly "On the part of the Queen!"
De Rohan _knew_ it was the Queen's confidential valet, for he saw with
his own eyes that it was the same man who had escorted the countess from
the side gate at the Trianon! And so it was; to wit, Villette de Rétaux,
who, calmly receiving the fifteen hundred thousand franc treasure,
marched but as solemnly as he had come in.
As that counterfeiting rascal goes out of the door, the diamond necklace
itself disappears from our knowledge. The swindle was consummated, but
there is no whisper of the disposition of the spoils. Villette, and
Jeanne's husband Lamotte, went to London and Amsterdam, and had some
money there; but seemingly no more than the previous pillages upon the
cardinal might have supplied; nor did the countess' subsequent
expenditures show that she had any of the proceeds.
But that is not the last of the rest of the parties to the affair, by
any means. Between this scene and the time when the anxious Boehmer,
having a little bill to meet, beset Madame Campan about his letter and
the money the Queen was to pay him, there intervened six months. During
that time countess Jeanne was smoothing as well as she could, with
endless lies and contrivances, the troubles of the perplexed cardinal,
who "couldn't seem to see" that he was much better off in spite of his
loyal performance of his part of the bargain.
But this application by Boehmer, and the enormous swindle which it was
instantly evident had been perpetrated on somebody or other, of course
waked up a commotion at once. The baron de Breteuil, a deadly enemy of
de Rohan, got hold of it all, and in his overpowering eagerness to ruin
his foe, quickly rendered the matter so public that it was out of the
question to hush it up. It seems probable that Jeanne de Lamotte
expected that the business would be kept quiet for the sake of the
Queen, and that thus any very severe or public punishments would be
avoided and perhaps no inquiries made. It is clear that this would have
been the best plan, but de Breteuil's officiousness prevented it, and
there was nothing for it but legal measures. De Rohan was arrested and
put in the Bastile, having barely been able to send a message in German
to his hotel to a trusty secretary, who instantly destroyed all the
papers relating to the affair. Jeanne was also imprisoned, and Miss Gay
d'Oliva and Villette de Rétaux, being caught at Brussels and Amsterdam,
were in like manner secured. As for Cagliostro, he was also imprisoned,
some accounts saying that he ostentatiously gave himself up for trial.
This was a public trial before the Parliament of Paris, with much form.
The result was that the cardinal, appearing to be only fool, not knave,
was acquitted. Gay d'Oliva appeared to have known nothing except that
she was to play a part, and she had been told that the Queen wanted her
to do so, so she was let go. Villette was banished for life. Lamotte,
the countess' husband, had escaped to England, and was condemned to the
galleys in his absence, which didn't hurt him much. Cagliostro was
acquitted. But Jeanne was sentenced to be whipped, branded on the
shoulder with the letter V for _Voleuse_ (thief), and banished.
This sentence was executed in full, but with great difficulty; for the
woman turned perfectly furious on the public scaffold, flew at the
hangman like a tiger, bit pieces out of his hands, shrieked, cursed,
rolled on the floor, kicked, squirmed and jumped, until they held her by
brute force, tore down her dress, and the red hot iron going aside as
she struggled, plunged full into her snowy white breast, planting there
indelibly the horrible black V, while she yelled like a fiend under the
torment of the smoking brand. She fled away to England, lived there some
time in dissolute courses, and is said to have died in consequence of
falling out of a window when drunk, or as another account states, of
being flung out by the companions of her orgy, whom she had stung to
fury by her frightful scolding. Before her death she put forth one or
two memoirs,--false, scandalous things.
The unfortunate Queen never entirely escaped some shadow of disrepute
from the necklace business. For to the very last, both on the trial and
afterwards, Jeanne de Lamotte impudently stuck to it that at least the
Queen had known about the trick played on the Cardinal at the Trianon,
and had in fact been hidden close by and saw and laughed heartily at the
whole interview. So sore and morbid was the condition of the public mind
in France in those days, when symptoms of the coming Revolution were
breaking out on every side, that this odious story found many and
willing believers.
CHAPTER LXII.
THE COUNT DE ST. GERMAIN, SAGE, PROPHET, AND MAGICIAN.
Superior to Cagliostro, even in accomplishments, and second to him in
notoriety only, was that human nondescript, the so-called Count de St.
Germain, whom Fredrick the Great called, "a man no one has ever been
able to make out."
The Marquis de Crequy declares that St. Germain was an Alsatian Jew,
Simon Wolff by name, and born at Strasburg about the close of the
seventeenth or the beginning of the eighteenth century; others insist
that he was a Spanish Jesuit named Aymar; and others again intimate that
his true title was the Marquis de Betmar, and that he was a native of
Portugal. The most plausible theory, however, makes him the natural son
of an Italian princess, and fixes his birth at San Germano, in Savoy,
about the year 1710; his ostensible father being one Rotondo, a
tax-collector of that district.
This supposition is borne out by the fact that he spoke all his many
languages with an Italian accent. It was about the year 1750 that he
first began to be heard of in Europe as the Count St. Germain, and put
forth the astounding pretensions that soon gave him celebrity over the
whole continent. The celebrated Marquis de Belleisle made his
acquaintance about that time in Germany, and brought him to Paris, where
he was introduced to Madame de Pompadour, whose favor he very quickly
gained. The influence of that famous beauty was just then paramount with
Louis XV, and the Count was soon one of the most eminent men at court.
He was remarkably handsome--as an old portrait at Friersdorf, in Saxony,
in the rooms he once occupied, sufficiently indicated; and his musical
accomplishments, added to the ineffable charm of his manners and
conversation, and the miracles he performed, rendered him an
irresistible attraction, especially to the ladies, who appear to have
almost idolized him. Endowed with an enchanting voice, he could also
play every instrument then in vogue, but especially excelled upon the
violin, which he could handle in such a manner as to give it the effect
of a small orchestra. Cotemporary writers declare that, in his more
ordinary performances, a connoisseur could distinctly hear the separate
tones of a full quartet when the count was extemporizing on his favorite
Cremona. His little work, entitled "La Musique Raisonnée," published in
England, for private circulation only, bears testimony to his musical
genius, and to the wondrous eccentricity, as well as beauty, of his
conceptions. But it was in alectromancy, or divination by signs and
circles; hydromancy, or divination by water; cleidomancy, or divination
by the key, and dactylomancy, or divination by the fingers, that the
count chiefly excelled, although he, at the same time, professed
alchemy, astrology, and prophecy in the higher branches.
The fortunes of the Count St. Germain rose so rapidly in France, that in
1760 he was sent by Louis XV, to the Court of England, to assist in
negotiations for a peace. M. de Choiseul, then Prime Minister of France,
however, greatly feared and detested the Count; and secretly wrote to
Pitt, begging the latter to have that personage arrested, as he was
certainly a Russian spy. But St. Germain, through his attendant sprites,
of course, received timely warning, and escaped to the Continent. In
England, he was the inseparable friend of Prince Lobkowitz--a
circumstance that gave some color to his alleged connection with the
Russians. His sojourn there was equally distinguished by his devotion to
the ladies, and his unwavering success at the gaming-table, where he won
fabulous sums, which were afterward dispensed with imperial munificence.
It was there, too, that he put forward his claims to the highest rank in
Masonry; and, of course, added, thereby, immensely to the _éclat_ of his
position. He spoke English, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian,
German, Russian, Polish, the Scandinavian, and many of the Oriental
tongues, with equal fluency; and pretended to have traveled over the
whole earth, and even to have visited the most distant starry orbs
frequently, in the course of a lifetime which, with continual
transmigrations, he declared to have lasted for thousands of years. His
birth, he said, had been in Chaldea, in the dawn of time; and that he
was the sole inheritor of the lost sciences and mysteries of his own and
the Egyptian race. He spoke of his personal intimacy with all the twelve
Apostles--and even the august presence of the Savior; and one of his
pretensions would have been most singularly amusing, had it not bordered
upon profanity. This was no less an assertion than that he had upon
several occasions remonstrated with the Apostle Peter upon the
irritability of his temperament! In regard to later periods of history,
he spoke with the careless ease of an every-day looker on; and told
anecdotes that the researches of scholars afterwards fully verified. His
predictions were, indeed, most startling; and the cotemporaneous
evidence is very strong and explicit, that he did foretell the time,
place, and manner of the death of Louis XV, several years before it
occurred. His gift of memory was perfectly amazing. Having once read a
journal of the day, he could repeat its contents accurately, from
beginning to end; and to this endowment he united the faculty of writing
with both hands, in characters like copperplate. Thus, he could indite a
love-letter with his right while he composed a verse with his left hand,
and, apparently, with the utmost facility--a splendid acquisition for
the Treasury Department or a literary newspaper! He would, however, have
been ineligible for any faithful Post Office, since he read the contents
of sealed letters at a glance; and, by his clairvoyant powers, detected
crime, or, in fact, the movements of men and the phenomena of nature, at
any distance. Like all the great Magi, and Brothers of the Rosy Cross,
of whom he claimed to be a shining light, he most excelled in medicine;
and along with remedies for "every ill that flesh is heir to," boasted
his "Aqua Benedetta" as the genuine elixir of life, capable of restoring
youth to age, beauty and strength to decay, and brilliant intellect to
the exhausted brain; and, if properly applied, protracting human
existence through countless centuries. As a proof of its virtues, he
pointed to his own youthful appearance, and the testimony of old men who
had seen him sixty or seventy years earlier, and who declared that time
had made no impression on him. Strangely enough, the Margrave of
Anspach, of whom I shall presently speak, purchased what purported to be
the recipe of the "Aqua Benedetta," from John Dyke, the English Consul
at Leghorn, towards the close of the last century; and copies of it are
still preserved with religious care and the utmost secrecy by certain
noble families in Berlin and Vienna, where the preparation has been used
(as they believe) with perfect success against a host of diseases.
Still another peculiarity of the Count would be highly advantageous to
any of us, particularly at this period of high prices and culinary
scarcity. He never ate nor drank; or, at least, he was never seen to do
so! It is said that boarding house _régime_ in these days is rapidly
accustoming a considerable class of our fellow-citizens to a similar
condition, but I can scarcely believe it.
Again, the Count would fall into cataleptic swoons, which continued
often for hours, and even days; and, during these periods, he declared
that he visited, in spirit, the most remote regions of the earth, and
even the farthest stars, and would relate, with astonishing power, the
scenes he there had witnessed!
He, of course, laid claim to the transmutation of baser metals into
gold, and stated that, in 1755, while on a visit to India, to consult
the erudition of the Hindoo Brahmins, he solved, by their assistance,
the problem of the artificial crystallization of pure carbon--or, in
other words, the production of diamonds! One thing is certain, viz.:
that upon a visit to the French ambassador to the Hague, in 1780, he, in
the presence of that functionary, induced him to believe and testify
that he broke to pieces, with a hammer, a superb diamond, of his own
manufacture, the exact counterpart of another, of similar origin, which
he had just sold for 5,500 louis d'or.
His career and transformations on the Continent were multiform. In 1762,
he was mixed up with the dynastic conspiracies and changes at St.
Petersburg; and his importance there was indicated ten years later, by
the reception given to him at Vienna by the Russian Count Orloff, who
accosted him joyously as "caro padre" (dear father,) and gave him twenty
thousand golden Venetian sequins.
From Petersburg he went to Berlin, where he at once attracted the
attention of Frederick the Great, who questioned Voltaire about him; the
latter replying, as it is said, that he was a man who knew all things,
and would live to the end of the world--a fair statement, in brief, of
the position assumed by more than one of our ward politicians!
In 1774, he took up his abode at Schwabach, in Germany, under the name
of Count Tzarogy, which is a transposition of Ragotzy, a well-known
noble name. The Margrave of Anspach met him at the house of his
favorite Clairon, the actress, and became so fond of him, that he
insisted upon his company to Italy. On his return, he went to Dresden,
Leipzig, and Hamburg, and finally to Eckernfiorde, in Schleswig, where
he took up his residence with the Landgrave Karl of Hesse; and at
length, in 1783, tired, as he said, of life, and disdaining any longer
immortality, he gave up the ghost.
It was during St. Germain's residence in Schleswig that he was visited
by the renowned Cagliostro, who openly acknowledged him as master, and
learned many of his most precious secrets from him--among others, the
faculty of discriminating the character by the handwriting, and of
fascinating birds, animals, and reptiles.
To trace the wanderings of St. Germain is a difficult task, as he had
innumerable aliases, and often totally disappeared for months together.
In Venice, he was known as the Count de Bellamare; at Pisa, as the
Chevalier de Schoening; at Milan, as the Chevalier Welldone; at Genoa,
as the Count Soltikow, etc.
In all these journeys, his own personal tastes were quiet and simple,
and he manifested more attachment for a pocket-copy of Guarini's "Pastor
Fido"--his only library--than for any other object in his possession.
On the whole, the Count de St. Germain was a man of magnificent
attainments, but the use he made of his talents proved him to be also a
most magnificent humbug.
CHAPTER XLIII.
RIZA BEY, THE PERSIAN ENVOY TO LOUIS XIV.
The most gorgeous, and with one sole exception the most glorious reign
that France has known, so far as military success is concerned, was that
of Louis XIV, the Grand Monarque. His was the age of lavish expenditure,
of magnificent structures, grand festivals, superb dress and equipage,
aristocratic arrogance, brilliant campaigns, and great victories. It
was, moreover, particularly distinguished for the number and high
character of the various special embassies sent to the court of France
by foreign powers. Among these, Spain, the Netherlands, Great Britain,
and Venice rivaled each other in extravagant display and pomp. The
singular and really tangible imposture I am about to describe, practiced
at such a period and on such a man as Louis of France, was indeed a bold
and dashing affair.
"L'Etat c'est moi"--"I am the State," was Louis' celebrated and very
significant motto; for in his own hands he had really concentrated all
the powers of the realm, and woe to him who trifled with a majesty so
real and so imperial!
However, notwithstanding all this imposing strength, this mighty
domineering will, and this keen intelligence, a man was found bold
enough to brave them all in the arena of pure humbug. It was toward the
close of the year 1667, when Louis, in the plenitude of military
success, returned from his campaign in Flanders, where his invincible
troops had proven too much for the broad breeched but gallant Dutchmen.
In the short space of three months he had added whole provinces,
including some forty or fifty cities and towns, to his dominions; and
his fame was ringing throughout Christendom. It had even penetrated to
the farthest East; and the King of Siam sent a costly embassy from his
remote kingdom, to offer his congratulations and fraternal greeting to
the most eminent potentate of Europe.
Louis had already removed the pageantries of his royal household to his
magnificent new palace of Versailles, on which the wealth of conquered
kingdoms had been lavished, and there, in the Great Hall of Mirrors,
received the homage of his own nobles and the ambassadors of foreign
powers. The utmost splendor of which human life was susceptible seemed
so common and familiar in those days, that the train was dazzling indeed
that could excite any very particular attention. What would have seemed
stupendous elsewhere was only in conformity with all the rest of the
scene at Versailles. But, at length, there came something that made even
the pampered courtiers of the new Babylon stare--a Persian embassy. Yes,
a genuine, actual, living envoy from that wonderful Empire in the East,
which in her time had ruled the whole Oriental world, and still retained
almost fabulous wealth and splendor.
It was announced formally, one morning, to Louis, that His Most Serene
Excellency, Riza Bey, with an interminable tail of titles, hangers-on
and equipages, had reached the port of Marseilles, having journeyed by
way of Trebizond and Constantinople, to lay before the great "King of
the Franks" brotherly congratulations and gorgeous presents from his own
illustrious master, the Shah of Persia. This was something entirely to
the taste of the vain French ruler, whom unlimited good fortune had
inflated beyond all reasonable proportions. He firmly believed that he
was by far the greatest man who had ever lived; and had an embassy from
the moon or the planet Jupiter been announced to him, would have deemed
it not only natural enough, but absolutely due to his preëminence above
all other human beings. Nevertheless, he was, secretly, immensely
pleased with the Persian demonstration, and gave orders that no expense
should be spared in giving the strangers a reception worthy of himself
and France.
It would be needless for me to detail the events of the progress of Riza
Bey from Marseilles to Paris, by way of Avignon and Lyons. It was
certainly in keeping with the pretensions of the Ambassador. From town
to town the progress was a continued ovation. Triumphal arches,
bonfires, chimes of bells, and hurrahing crowds in their best bibs and
tuckers, military parades and civic ceremonies, everywhere awaited the
children of the farthest East, who were stared at, shouted at--and by
some wretched cynics sneered and laughed at--to their hearts' content.
All modern glory very largely consists in being nearly stunned with
every species of noise, choked with dust, and dragged about through the
streets, until you are well nigh dead. Witness the Japanese Embassy and
their visit to this country, where, in some cases, the poor creatures,
after hours of unmitigated boring with all sorts of mummery, actually
had their pigtails pulled by Young America in the rear, and--as at the
windows of Willard's Hotel in Washington--were stirred up with long
canes, like the Polar Bear or the Learned Seal.
Still Riza Bey and his dozen or two of dusky companions did not, by any
means, cut so splendid a figure as had been expected. They had with them
some camels, antelopes, bulbuls, and monkeys--like any travelling
caravan, and were dressed in the most outrageous and outlandish attire.
They jabbered, too, a gibberish utterly incomprehensible to the crowd,
and did everything that had never been seen or done before. All this,
however, delighted the populace. Had they been similarly transmogrified,
or played such queer pranks themselves, it would only have been food for
mockery; but the foreign air and fame of the thing made it all
wonderful, and, as the chief rogue in the plot had foreseen, blinded the
popular eye and made his "embassy" a complete success.
At length, after some four weeks of slow progress, the "Persians"
arrived at Paris, where they were received, as had been expected, with
tremendous _éclat_. They entered by Barriére du Trône, so styled because
it was there that Louis Quatorze himself had been received upon a
temporary throne, set up, with splendid decorations and triumphal
arches, in the open air, when he returned from his Flanders campaign.
Riza Bey was upon this occasion a little more splendid than he had been
on his way from the sea-coast, and really loomed up in startling style
in his tall, black, rimless hat of wool, shaped precisely like an
elongated flower-pot, and his silk robes dangling to his heels and
covered with huge painted figures and bright metal decorations of every
shape and size unknown, to European man-millinery. A circlet or collar,
apparently of gold, set with precious stones (California diamonds!)
surrounded his neck, and monstrous glittering rings covered all the
fingers, and even the thumbs of both his hands. His train, consisting of
sword, cup, and pipe bearers, doctors, chief cooks, and bottle-washers,
cork extractors and chiropodists (literally so, for it seems that
sharing the common lot of humanity, great men have corns even in
Persia,) were similarly arrayed as to fashion, but less stupendously in
jewelry.
Well, after the throng had scampered, crowded, and shouted themselves
hoarse, and had straggled to their homes, sufficiently tired and
pocket-picked, the Ambassador and his suite were lodged in sumptuous
apartments in the old royal residence of the Tuileries, under the care
and charge of King Louis' own assistant Major-Domo and a guard of
courtiers and regiments of Royal Swiss. Banqueting and music filled up
the first evening; and upon the ensuing day His Majesty, who thus did
his visitors especial honor, sent the Duc de Richelieu, the most
polished courtier and diplomatist in France, to announce that he would
graciously receive them on the third evening at Versailles.
Meanwhile the most extensive preparations were made for the grand
audience thus accorded; and when the appointed occasion had arrived, the
entire Gallery of Mirrors with all the adjacent spaces and corridors,
were crowded with the beauty, the chivalry, the wit, taste, and
intellect of France at that dazzling period. The gallery, which is three
hundred and eighty feet in length by fifty in height, derives its name
from the priceless mirrors which adorn its walls, reaching from floor to
ceiling, opposite the long row of equally tall and richly mullioned
windows that look into the great court and gardens. These windows, hung
with the costliest silk curtains and adorned with superb historical
statuary, give to the hall a light and aërial appearance indescribably
enchanting; while the mirrors reflect in ten thousand variations the
hall itself and its moving pageantry, rendering both apparently
interminable. Huge marble vases filled with odorous exotics lined the
stairways, and twelve thousand wax lights in gilded brackets, and
chandeliers of the richest workmanship, shone upon three thousand titled
heads.
Louis the Great himself never appeared to finer advantage. His truly
royal countenance was lighted up with pride and satisfaction as the
Envoy of the haughty Oriental king approached the splendid throne on
which he sat, and as he descended a step to meet him and stood there in
his magnificent robes of state, the Persian envoy bent the knee, and
with uncovered head presented the credentials of his mission. Of the
crowd that immediately surrounded the throne, it is something to say
that the Grand Colbert, the famous Minister, and the Admiral Duquesne
were by no means the most eminent, nor the lovely Duchess of Orleans and
her companion, the bewitching Mademoiselle de Kerouaille, who afterward
changed the policy of Charles II, of England, by no means the most
beautiful personages in the galaxy.
A grand ball and supper concluded this night of splendor, and Riza Bey
was fairly launched at the French court; every member of which, to
please the King, tried to outvie his compeers in the assiduity of his
attentions, and the value of the books, pictures, gems, equipages, arms,
&c., which they heaped upon the illustrious Persian. The latter
gentleman very quietly smoked his pipe and lounged on his divan before
company, and diligently packed up the goods when he and his "jolly
companions" were left alone. The presents of the Shah had not yet
arrived, but were daily expected via Marseilles, and from time to time
the olive-colored suite was diminished by the departure of one of the
number with his chest on a special mission (so stated) to England,
Austria, Portugal, Spain, and other European powers.
In the meantime, the Bey was feted in all directions, with every species
of entertainment, and it was whispered that the fair ones of that
dissolute court were, from the first, eager in the bestowal of their
smiles. The King favored his Persian pet with numerous personal
interviews, at which, in broken French, the Envoy unfolded the most
imposing schemes of Oriental conquest and commerce that his master was
cordially willing to share with his great brother of France. At one of
these chatty tête-á-têtes, the munificent Riza Bey, upon whom the King
had already conferred his own portrait set in diamonds, and other gifts
worth several millions of francs, placed in the Royal hand several
superb fragments of opal and turquoise said to have been found in a
district of country bordering on the Caspian sea, which teemed with
limitless treasures of the same kind, and which the Shah of Persia
proposed to divide with France for the honor of her alliance. The king
was enchanted; for these mere specimens, as they were deemed, must, if
genuine, be worth in themselves a mint of money; and a province full of
such--why, the thought was charming!
Thus the great King-fish was fairly hooked, and Riza Bey could take his
time. The golden tide that flowed in to him did not slacken, and his own
expenses were all provided for at the Tuileries. The only thing
remaining to be done was a grand foray on the tradesmen of Paris, and
this was splendidly executed. The most exquisite wares of all
descriptions were gathered in, without mention of payment; and one by
one the Persian phalanx distributed itself through Europe until only two
or three were left with the Ambassador.
At length, word was sent to Versailles that the gifts from the Shah had
come, and a day was appointed for their presentation. The day arrived,
and the Hall of Audience was again thrown open. All was jubilee; the
King and the court waited, but no Persian--no Riza Bey--no presents from
the Shah!
That morning three men, without either caftans or robes, but very much
resembling the blacklegs of the day in their attire and deportment, had
left the Tuileries at daylight with a bag and a bundle, and returned no
more. They were Riza Bey and his last body-guard; the bag and the
bundle were the smallest in bulk but the most precious in value of a
month's successful plunder. The turquoises and opals left with the King
turned out, upon close inspection, to be a new and very ingenious
variety of colored glass, now common enough, and then worth, if
anything, about thirty cents in cash.
Of course, a hue and cry was raised in all directions, but totally in
vain. Riza Bey, the Persian Shah, and the gentlemen in flower-pots, had
"gone glimmering through the dream of things that were." L'etat c'est
moi had been sold for thirty cents! It was afterward believed that a
noted barber and suspected bandit at Leghorn, who had once really
traveled in Persia, and there picked up the knowledge and the ready
money that served his turn, was the perpetrator of this pretty joke and
speculation, as he disappeared from his native city about the time of
the embassy in France, and did not return.
All Europe laughed heartily at the Grand Monarque and his fair
court-dames, and "An Embassy from Persia" was for many years thereafter
an expression similar to "Walker!" in English, or "Buncombe!" in
American conversation, when the party using it seeks to intimate that
the color of his optics is not a distinct pea-green!
IX. RELIGIOUS HUMBUGS.
CHAPTER XLIV.
DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND; OR, YANKEE SUPERSTITIONS.--MATTHIAS THE
IMPOSTOR.--NEW YORK FOLLIES THIRTY YEARS AGO.
There is a story that on a great and solemn public occasion of the
Romish Church, a Pope and a Cardinal were, with long faces, performing
some of the gyrations of the occasion, when, instead of a pious
ejaculation and reply, which were down in the programme, one said to the
other gravely, in Latin "_mundus vult decipi_;" and the other replied,
with equal gravity and learning, "_decipiatur ergo_:" that is, "All the
world chooses to be fooled."--"Let it be fooled then."
This seems, perhaps, a reasonable way for priests to talk about ignorant
Italians. It may seem inapplicable to cool, sharp, school-trained
Protestant Yankees. It is not, however--at least, not entirely.
Intelligent Northerners have, sometimes, superstition enough in them to
make a first-class Popish saint. If it had not been so, I should not
have such an absurd religious humbug to tell of as Robert Matthews,
notorious in our goodly city some thirty years ago as "Matthias, the
Impostor."
In the summer of 1832, there was often seen riding in Broadway, in a
handsome barouche, or promenading on the Battery (usually attended by a
sort of friend or servant,) a tall man, of some forty years of age,
quite thin, with sunken, sharp gray eyes, with long, coarse, brown and
gray hair, parted in the middle and curling on his shoulders, and a long
and coarse but well-tended beard and mustache. These Esau-like
adornments attracted much attention in those close-shaving days. He was
commonly dressed in a fine green frock-coat, lined with white or pink
satin, black or green pantaloons, with polished Wellington boots drawn
on outside, fine cambric ruffles and frill, and a crimson silk sash
worked with gold and with twelve tassels, for the twelve tribes of
Israel. On his head was a steeple-crowned patent-leather shining black
cap with a shade.
Thus bedizened, this fantastic-looking personage marched gravely up and
down, or rode in pomp in the streets. Sometimes he lounged in a
bookstore or other place of semi-public resort; and in such places he
often preached or exhorted. His preachments were sufficiently horrible.
He claimed to be God the Father; and his doctrine was, in substance,
this:--"The true kingdom of God on earth began in Albany in June 1830,
and will be completed in twenty-one years, or by 1851. During this time,
wars are to stop, and I, Matthias, am to execute the divine judgments
and destroy the wicked. The day of grace is to close on December 1,
1836; and all who do not begin to reform by that time, I shall kill."
The discourses by which this blasphemous humbug supported his
pretensions were a hodge-podge of impiety and utter nonsense, with
rants, curses and cries, and frightful threats against all objectors.
Here is a passage from one;--"All who eat swine's flesh are of the
devil; and just as certain as he eats it he will tell a lie in less than
half an hour. If you eat a piece of pork, it will go crooked through
you, and the Holy Ghost will not stay in you; but one or the other must
leave the house pretty soon. The pork will be as crooked in you as rams'
horns." Again, he made these pleasant points about the ladies: "They who
teach women are of the wicked. All females who lecture their husbands
their sentence is: 'Depart, ye wicked, I know you not.' Everything that
has the smell of woman will be destroyed. Woman is the cap-sheaf of the
abomination of desolation, full of all deviltry." There, ladies! Is
anything further necessary to convince you what a peculiarly wicked and
horrible humbug this fellow was?
If we had followed this impostor home, we should have found him lodged,
during most of his stay in New-York city, with one or the other of his
three chief disciples. These were Pierson, who commonly attended him
abroad, Folger, and--for a time only--Mills. All three of these men were
wealthy merchants. In their handsome and luxuriously-furnished homes,
this noxious humbug occupied the best rooms, and controlled the whole
establishment, directing the marketing, meal times, and all other
household-matters. Master, mistress (in Mr. Folger's home,) and
domestics were disciples, and obeyed the scamp with an implicitness and
prostrate humility even more melancholy than absurd, both as to
housekeeping and as to the ceremonies, washing of feet, etc., which he
enjoined. When he was angry with his female disciples, he frequently
whipped them; but, being a monstrous coward, he never tried it on a man.
The least opposition or contradiction threw him into a great rage, and
set him screaming, and cursing, and gesticulating like any street drab.
When he wished more clothes, which was pretty often, one of his dupes
furnished the money. When he wanted cash for any purpose indeed, they
gave it him.
This half-crazy knave and abominable humbug was Robert Matthews, who
called himself Matthias. He was of Scotch descent, and born about 1790,
in Washington county, New York; and his blood was tainted with insanity,
for a brother of his died a lunatic. He was a carpenter and joiner of
uncommon skill, and up to nearly his fortieth year lived, on the whole,
a useful and respectable life, being industrious, a professing Christian
of good standing, and (having married in 1813) a steady family-man. In
1828 and 1829, while living at Albany, he gradually became excited about
religious subjects; his first morbid symptoms appearing after hearing
some sermons by Rev. E. N. Kirk, and Mr. Finney the revivalist. He soon
began to exhort his fellow-journeymen instead of minding his work, so
uproariously that his employer turned him away.
He discovered a text in the Bible that forbid Christians to shave. He
let his hair and beard grow; began street-preaching in a noisy, brawling
style; announced that he was going to set about converting the whole
city of Albany--which needed it badly enough, if we may believe the
political gentlemen. Finding however, that the Lobby, or the Regency,
or something or other about the peculiar wickedness of Albany, was
altogether too much for him, he began, like Jonah at Nineveh, to
announce the destruction of the obstinate town; and at midnight, one
night in June, 1826, he waked up his household, and saying that Albany
was to be destroyed next day, took his three little boys--two, four, and
six years old--his wife and oldest child (a daughter refusing to go,)
and "fled to the mountains." He actually walked the poor little fellows
forty miles in twenty-four hours, to his sister's in Washington county.
Here he was reckoned raving crazy; was forcibly turned out of church for
one of his brawling interruptions of service, and sent back to Albany,
where he resumed his street-preaching more noisily than ever. He now
began to call himself Matthias, and claimed to be a Jew. Then he went on
a long journey to the Western and Southern States, preaching his
doctrines, getting into jail, and sometimes fairly cursing his way out;
and, returning to New York city, preached up and down the streets in his
crazy, bawling fashion, sometimes on foot and sometimes on an old bony
horse.
His New York city dupes, Elijah Pierson and Benjamin H. Folger and their
families, together with a Mr. Mills and a few more, figured prominently
in the chief chapter of Matthews' career, during two years and a half,
from May, 1832, to the fall of 1834.
Pierson and Folger were the leaders in the folly. These men, merchants
of wealth and successful in business, were of that sensitive and
impressible religious nature which is peculiarly credulous and liable to
enthusiasms and delusions. They had been, with a number of other
persons, eagerly engaged in some extravagant religious performances,
including excessive fasts and asceticisms, and a plan, formed by one of
their lady friends, to convert all New York by a system of female
visitations and preachings--a plan not so very foolish, I may just
remark, if the she apostles are only pretty enough!
Pierson, the craziest of the crew, besides other wretched delusions, had
already fancied himself Elijah the Tishbite; and when his wife fell ill
and died a little while before this time, had first tried to cure her,
and then to raise her from the dead, by anointing with oil and by the
prayer of faith, as mentioned in the Epistle of Saint James.
Curiously enough, a sort of lair or nest, very soft and comfortable, was
thus made ready for our religious humbug, just as he wanted it worst;
for in these days he was but seedy. He heard something of Pierson, I
don't know how; and on the 5th of May, 1832, he called on him. Very
quickly the poor fellow recognized the long-bearded prophetical humbug
as all that he claimed to be--a possessor and teacher of all truth, and
as God himself.
Mills and Folger easily fell into the same pitiable foolery, on
Pierson's introduction. And the lucky humbug was very soon living in
clover in Mills' house, which he chose first; had admitted the happy
fools, Pierson and Folger, as the first two members of his true church;
Pierson, believing that from Elijah the Tishbite he had become John the
Baptist, devoted himself as a kind of servant to his new Messiah; and
the deluded men began to supply all the temporal wants of the impostor,
believing their estates set apart as the beginning of the material
Kingdom of God!
After three months, some of Mills' friends, on charges of lunacy, caused
Mills to be sent to Bloomingdale Asylum, and Matthias to be thrust into
the insane poor's ward at Bellevue, where his beard was forcibly cut
off, to his extreme disgust. His brother, however, got him out by a
habeas corpus, and he went to live with Folger. Mills now disappears
from the story.
Matthias remained in the full enjoyment of his luxurious establishment,
until September, 1834, it is true, with a few uncomfortable
interruptions. He was always both insolent and cowardly, and thus often
irritated some strong-minded auditor, and got himself into some pickle
where he had to sneak out, which he did with much ease. In his seedy
days the landlord of a hotel in whose bar-room he used to preach and
curse, put him down when he grew too abusive, by coolly and sternly
telling him to go to bed. Mr. Folger himself had one or two brief
intervals of sense, in one of which, angered at some insolence of
Matthias, he seized him by the throat, shook him well, and flung him
down upon a sofa. The humbug knowing that his living was in danger, took
this very mildly, and readily accepted the renewed assurances of belief
which poor Folger soon gave him. In the village of Sing Sing where
Folger had a country-seat which he called Mount Zion, Matthias was
exceedingly obnoxious. His daughter had married a Mr. Laisdell; and the
humbug, who claimed that all Christian marriages were void and wicked,
by some means induced the young wife to come to Sing Sing, where he
whipped her more than once quite cruelly. Her husband came and took her
away after encountering all the difficulty which Matthias dared make;
and, at a hearing in the matter before a magistrate, he was very near
getting tarred and feathered, if not something worse, and the danger
frightened him very much.
He barely escaped being shaved by violence, and being thrown overboard
to test his asserted miraculous powers, at the hands of a stout and
incredulous farmer on the steamboat between Sing Sing and New York.
While imprisoned at Bellevue before his trial, he was tossed in a
blanket by the prisoners, to make him give them some money. The unlucky
prophet dealt out damnation to them in great quantities; but they told
him it wouldn't work, and the poor humbug finally, instead of casting
them into hell, paid them a quarter of a dollar apiece to let him off.
When he was about to leave Folger's house, some roguish young men of
Sing Sing forged a warrant, and with a counterfeit officer seized the
humbug, and a second time shaved him by force. He was one day terribly
"set back" as the phrase is, by a sharpish answer. He gravely asserted
to a certain man that he had been on the earth eighteen hundred years.
His hearer, startled and irreverent, exclaimed:
"The devil you have! Do you tell me so?"
"I do," said the prophet.
"Then," rejoined the other, "all I have to say is, you are a remarkably
good-looking fellow for one of your age."
The confounded prophet grinned, scowled, and exclaimed indignantly:
"You are a devil, Sir!" and marched off.
In the beginning of August, 1834, the unhappy Pierson died in Folger's
house, under circumstances amounting to strong circumstantial evidence
that Matthias, with the help of the colored cook, an enthusiastic
disciple, had poisoned him with arsenic. The rascal pretended that his
own curse had slain Pierson. There was a post mortem, an indictment, and
a trial, but the evidence was not strong enough for conviction. Being
acquitted, he was at once tried again for an assault and battery on his
daughter by the aforesaid whippings; and on this charge he was found
guilty and sent to the county jail for three months, in April, 1835. The
trial for murder was just before--the prophet having lain in prison
since his apprehension for murder in the preceding autumn. Mr. Folger's
delusion had pretty much disappeared by the end of the summer of 1834.
He had now become ruined, partly in consequence of foolish speculations
jointly with Pierson, believed to be conducted under Divine guidance,
and partly because his strange conduct destroyed his business reputation
and standing. The death of Pierson, and some very queer matters about
another apparent poisoning-trick, awakened the suspicions of the
Folgers; and after a good deal of scolding and trouble with the
impostor, who hung on to his comfortable home like a good fellow, Folger
finally turned him out, and then had him taken up for swindling. He had
been too foolish himself, however, to maintain this charge; but, shortly
after, the others, for murder and assault, followed, with a little
better success.
This imprisonment seems to have put a sudden and final period to the
prophetical and religious operations of Master Matthias, and to the
follies of his victims, too. I know of no subsequent developments of
either kind. Matthias disappears from public life, and died, it is said,
in Arkansas; but when, or after what further career, I don't know. He
was a shallow knave, and undoubtedly also partly crazy and partly the
dupe of his own nonsense. If he had not so opportunely found victims of
good standing, he would not have been remembered at all, except as
George Munday, the "hatless prophet," and "Angel Gabriel Orr," are
remembered--as one more obscure, crazy street-preacher. And as soon as
his accidental supports of other people's money and enthusiasm failed
him, he disappeared at once. Many of my readers will remember
distinctly, as I do, the remarkable career of this man, and the
humiliating position in which his victims were placed. In the face of
such an exposition as this of the weakness and credulity of poor human
nature in this enlightened country of common schools and colleges, in
the boasted wide-awake nineteenth century, who shall deny that we can
study with interest and profit the history of impositions which have
been practiced upon mankind in every possible phase throughout every age
of the world, including the age in which we live? There is literally no
end to these humbugs; and the reader of these pages, weak as may be my
attempts to do the subject justice, will learn that there is no country,
no period, and no sphere in life which has not been impiously invaded
by the genius of humbug, under more disguises and in more shapes than it
has entered into the heart of man to conceive.
CHAPTER XLV.
A RELIGIOUS HUMBUG ON JOHN BULL.--JOANNA SOUTHCOTT.--THE SECOND SHILOH.
Joanna Southcott was born at St. Mary's Ottery in Devonshire, about the
year 1750. She was a plain, stout-limbed, hard-fisted farmer lass, whose
toils in the field--for her father was in but very moderate
circumstances--had tawned her complexion and hardened her muscles, at an
early age. As she grew toward woman's estate, necessity compelled her to
leave her home and seek service in the city of Exeter, where for many
years, she plodded on very quietly in her obscure path, first, as a
domestic hireling, and subsequently as a washer woman.
I have an old and esteemed friend on Staten Island whose father, still
living, recollects Joanna well, as she used to come regularly to his
house of a Monday morning, to her task of cleansing the family linen. He
was then but a little lad, yet he remembers her quite well, with her
stout, robust frame, and buxom and rather attractive countenance, and
her queer ways. Even then she was beginning to invite attention by her
singular manners and discourse, which led many to believe her demented.
It was at Exeter that Joanna became religiously impressed, and joined
the Wesleyan Methodists, as a strict and extreme believer in the
doctrines of that sect. During her attendance upon the Wesleyan rites,
she became intimate with one Sanderson, who, whether a designing rogue,
or only a very fanatical believer, pretended that he had discovered in
the good washerwoman a Bible prodigy; and it was not long before the
poor creature began literally, to "see sights" and dream dreams of the
most preternatural description, for which Sanderson always had ready
some very telling interpretation. Her visions were of the most
thoroughly "mixed" character withal, sometimes transporting her to the
courts of heaven, and sometimes to a very opposite region, celebrated
for its latent and active caloric. When she ranged into the lower world,
she had a very unpleasant habit of seeing sundry scoffers and
unbelievers (in herself) belonging to the congregation, in very close
but disadvantageous intercourse with the Evil One, who was represented
as having a particular eye to others around her, even while they laid
claim to special piety. Of course, such revelations as these could not
be tolerated in any well regulated community, and when some most
astounding religious gymnastics performed by Joanna in the midst of
prayers and sermons, occurred to heap up the measure of her offences, it
became full time to take the matter in hand, and the prophetess was
expelled. Now, those whom she had not served up openly with brimstone,
agreeing with her about those whom she had thus "cooked," and delighted
in their own exemption from that sort of dressing, seceded in
considerable numbers, and became Joanna's followers. This gave her a
nucleus to work upon, and between 1790 and 1800, she managed to make
herself known throughout Britain, proclaiming that she was to be the
destined Mother of the Second Messiah, and although originally quite
illiterate, picking up enough general information and Bible lore, to
facilitate her publication of several very curious, though sometimes
incoherent works. One of the earliest and most startling of these was
her "Warning to the whole World, from the Sealed Prophecies of Joanna
Southcott, and other communications given since the writings were opened
on the 12th of January, 1803." This foretold the close approach of the
great red dragon of the Revelations, "with seven heads and ten horns,
and seven crowns upon his heads," and the birth of the "man-child who
was to rule all nations with a rod of iron."
In 1805, a shoemaker named Tozer built her a chapel in Exeter at his
own expense, and it was, from the first, constantly filled on
service-days with eager worshipers. Here she gave exhortations, and
prophesied in a species of religious frenzy or convulsion, sometimes
uttering very heavy prose, and sometimes the most fearful doggerel
rhyme resembling--well--perhaps our album effusions here at home!
Indeed, I can think of nothing else equally fearful. In these
paroxysms, Joanna raved like an ancient Pythoness whirling on her
tripod, and to just about the same purpose. Yet, it was astonishing to
see how the thing went down. Crowds of intelligent people came from all
parts of the United Kingdom to listen, be converted, and to receive
the "seals" (as they were called) that secured their fortunate
possessor unimpeded and immediate admission to heaven. Of course,
tickets so precious could not be given away for nothing, and the seal
trade in this new form proved very lucrative.
The most remarkable of all these conversions was that of the celebrated
engraver, William Sharp, who, notwithstanding his eminent position as an
artist, by no means bore out his name in other things. He had previously
become thoroughly imbued with the notions of Swedenborg, Mesmer, and the
famous Richard Brothers, and was quite ripe for anything fantastic. Such
a convert was a perfect godsend to Joanna, and she was easily persuaded
to accompany him to London, where her congregations rapidly increased to
enormous proportions, even rivaling those now summoned by the "drum
ecclesiastical" and orthodox of the Rev. Mr. Spurgeon.
The whole sect extended until, in 1813, it numbered no less than one
hundred thousand members, signed and "sealed"--Mr. Sharp occupying a
most conspicuous position at the very footstool of the Prophetess. Late
in 1813, appeared the "Book of Wonders," "in five parts," and it was a
clincher. Poor Sharp came in largely for the expenses, but valiantly
stood his ground against it all. At length, in 1814, the great Joanna
dazzled the eyes of her adherents and the world at large with her
"Prophecies concerning the Prince of Peace." This delectable manifesto
flatly announced to mankind that the second Shiloh, so long expected,
would be born of the Prophetess at midnight, on October 19, in that
same year, _i. e._ 1814. The inspired writer was then enceinte, although
a virgin, as she expressly and solemnly declared, and in the
sixty-fourth year of her age. Among the other preternatural concomitants
of this anticipated eventful birth, was the fact that the period of her
pregnancy had lasted for several years.
Of course, this stupendous announcement threw the whole sect into
ecstasies of religious exultation; while, on the other hand, it afforded
a fruitful subject of ridicule for the utterly irreverent London
pamphleteers. Poor Sharp, who had caused a magnificent cradle and
baby-wardrobe to be got ready at his own expense, was most unmercifully
scored. The infant was caricatured with a long gray beard and
spectacles, with Sharp in a duster carefully rocking him to sleep, while
Joanna the Prophetess treated the engraver to some "cuts" in her own
style, with a bunch of twigs.
On the appointed night, the street in which Joanna lived was thronged
with the faithful, who, undeterred by sarcasm, fully credited her
prediction. They bivouacked on the side-walks in motley crowds of men,
women, and children; and as the hours wore on, and their interest
increased, burst forth into spontaneous psalmody. The adjacent
thoroughfares were as densely jammed with curious and incredulous
spectators, and the mutton pie and ballad businesses flourished
extensively. The interior of the house, with the exception of the sick
chamber, was illuminated in all directions, and the dignitaries of the
sect held the ante-rooms and corridors, "in full fig," to receive the
expected guest. But the evening passed, then midnight came, then
morning, but alas! no Shiloh; and, little by little, the disappointed
throngs dispersed! Poor Joanna, however, kept her bed, and finally,
after many fresh paroxysms and prophecies, on the 27th of December,
1814, gave up the ghost--the indefatigable Sharp still declaring that
she had gone to heaven for a season, only to legitimatize the unborn
infant, and would re-arise again from death, after four days, with the
Shiloh in her arms. So firm was this faith in him and many other
respectable persons, that the body of the Prophetess was retained in her
house until the very last moment. When the dissection demanded by the
majority of the sect could no longer be delayed, that operation was
performed, and it was found that the subject had died of ovarian dropsy;
but was--as she had always maintained herself to be--a virgin. Dr.
Reece, who had been a devout believer, but was now undeceived, published
a full account of this and all the other circumstances of her death, and
another equally earnest disciple bore the expenses of her burial at St.
John's Wood, and placed over her a tombstone with appropriate
inscriptions.
As late as 1863, there were many families of believers still existing
near Chatham, in Kent; and even in this country can here and there be
found admirers of the creed of Joanna Southcott, who are firmly
convinced that she will re-appear some fine morning, with Sanderson on
one side of her and Sharp on the other.
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.
The domain of humbug reaches back to the Garden of Eden, where the
Father of lies practised it upon our poor, innocent first grandmother,
Eve. This was the first and worst of all humbugs. But from that eventful
day to the present moment, falsehood, hypocrisy, deception, imposition,
cant, bigotry, false appearances and false pretences, superstitions, and
all conceivable sorts of humbugs, have had a full swing, and he or she
who watches these things most closely, and reflects most deeply upon
these various peculiarities, bearings, and results, will be best
qualified to detect and to avoid them. For this reason, I should look
upon myself as somewhat of a public benefactor, in exposing the humbugs
of the world, if I felt competent to do the subject full justice.
Next to the fearful humbug practiced upon our first parents, came
heathen humbugs generally. All heathenism and idolatry are one grand
complex humbug to begin with. All the heathen religions always were, and
are still, audacious, colossal, yet shallow and foolish, humbugs. The
heathen humbugs were played off by the priests, the shrewdest men then
alive. It is a curious fact that the heathen humbugs were all solemn.
This was because they were intended to maintain the existing religions,
which, like all false religions, could not endure ridicule. They always
appealed to the pious terrors of the public, as well as to its ignorance
and appetite for marvels. They offered nothing pleasant, nothing to
love, nothing to gladden the heart and lift it up in joyful gratitude,
true adoration, and childlike confidence, prayer, and thanksgiving. On
the contrary, awful noises, fearful sights, frightful threats, foaming
at the mouth, dark sayings, secret processions, bloody sacrifices, grim
priests, costly offerings, sleeps in darksome caverns to wait for a
dream from the god--these were the machineries of the ancient heathen.
They were as crude and as ferocious as those of the King of Dahomey, or
of the barbarous negroes of the Guinea coast. But they often show a
cunning as keen and effective as that of any quack, or Philadelphia
lawyer, or Davenport Brother, or Jackson Davis of to-day.
The most prominent of the heathen humbugs were the mysteries, the
oracles, the sibyls (N. B., the word is often mis-spelled sybils,) and
augury. Every respectable Pagan religion had some mysteries, just as
every respectable Christian family has a bible--and, as an ill-natured
proverb has it, a skeleton. It was considered a poor religion--a one
horse religion, so to speak--that had no mysteries.
The chief mysteries were those of the Cabiri, of Eleusis, and of Isis.
These mysteries used exactly the same kind of machinery which proves so
effective every day in modern mysteries, viz., shows, processions,
voices, lights, dark rooms, frightful sights, solemn mummeries,
striking costumes, big talks and preachments, threats, gabbles of
nonsense, etc., etc.
The mysteries of the Cabiri are the most ancient of which anything is
known. These Cabiri were a sort of "Original old Dr. Jacob Townsends" of
divinities. They were considered senior and superior to Jupiter,
Neptune, Plato, and the gods of Olympus. They were Pelasgic, that is,
they belonged to that unknown ancient people from whom both the Greek
and the Latin nations are thought to have come. The Cabiri afterward
figured as the "elder gods" of Greece, the inventors of religion, and of
the human race in fact, and were kept so very dark that it is not even
known, with any certainty, who they were. The ancient heathen gods, like
modern thieves, very usually objected to pass by their real names. The
Cabiri were particularly at home in Lemnos, and afterward in Samothrace.
Their mysteries were of a somewhat unpleasant character, as far as we
know them. The candidate had to pass a long time almost starved, and
without any enjoyment whatever; was then let into a dark temple, crowned
with olive, tied round with a purple girdle, and frightened almost to
death with horrid noises, terrible sights of some kind, great flashes of
light and deep darkness between, etc., etc. There was a ceremony of
absolution from past sin, and a formal beginning of a new life. It is a
curious fact, that this performance seems to have been a kind of pious
marine insurance company; as the initiated, it was believed, could not
be drowned. Perhaps they were put in a way to obtain a drier
strangulation. The reason why these ceremonies were kept so successfully
secret, is plain. Each man, as he was let in, and found what nonsense it
was, was sure to hold his tongue and help the next man in, as in the
modern case of the celebrated "Sons of Malta." It is to be admitted,
however, to the credit of the Cabiri, that a doctrine of reformation, or
of living a better practical life, seems to have been part of their
religion. This is an interesting recognition, by heathen consciences, of
one of the greatest moral truths which Christianity has enforced.
Something of the same kind can be traced in other heathen mysteries. But
these heathen attempts at virtue invariably rotted out into aggravations
of vice. No religion except Christianity ever contained the principle of
improvement in it. Bugaboos and hob-goblins may serve for a time to
frighten the ignorant into obedience; but if they get a chance to cheat
the devil, they will be sure to do it. Nothing but the great doctrine of
Christian love and brotherhood, and of a kind and paternal Divine
government, has ever proved to be permanently reformatory, and tending
to lift the heart above the vices and passions to which poor human
nature is prone.
The mysteries of Eleusis were celebrated every year at Eleusis, near
Athens, in honor of Ceres, and were a regular "May Anniversary," so to
speak, for the pious heathens of the period. It took just nine days to
complete them; long enough for a puppy to get its eyes open. The
candidates were very handsomely put through. On the first day, they got
together; on the second, they took a wash in the sea; on the third,
they had some ceremonies about Proserpine; on the fourth, no mortal
knows what they did; on the fifth, they marched round a temple, two and
two, with torches, like a Wide-Awake procession; on the sixth, seventh,
and eighth, there were more processions, and the initiation proper, said
to have been something like that of Free-masonry; so that we may suppose
the victims rode the goat and were broiled on the gridiron. On the ninth
day, the ceremony, they say, consisted in overturning two vessels of
wine. I fear by this means that they all got drunk; and the more so,
because the coins of Eleusis have a hog on one side, as much as to say,
We make hogs of ourselves.
There was a set of mysteries at Athens, called Thesmophoria, and one at
Rome, called the mysteries of the Bona Dea, which were celebrated by
married women only. Various notions prevailed as to what they did. But
can there be any reasonable doubt about it? They were, I fear,
systematic conspirators' meetings, in which the more experienced matrons
instructed the junior ones how to manage their husbands. If this was not
their object, then it was to maintain the influence of the heathen
clergy over the heathen ladies. Women have always been the constituents
of priests where false religions prevailed, as they have, for better
purposes, of the ministers of the Gospel among Christians.
The mysteries of the goddess Isis, which originated in Egypt, were, in
general, like those of Ceres at Eleusis. The Persian mysteries of
Mithra, which were very popular during part of the latter days of the
Roman empire, were of the same sort. So were those of Bacchus, Juno,
Jupiter, and various other heathen gods. All of them were celebrated
with great solemnity and secrecy; all included much that was terrifying;
and all of their secrets have been so faithfully kept that we have only
guesses and general statements about the details of the performances.
Their principal object seems to have been to secure the initiated
against misfortunes, and to gain prosperity in the future. Some have
imagined that very wonderful and glorious truths were revealed in the
midst of these heathen humbugs. But I guess that the more we find out
about them, the bigger humbugs they will appear, as happened to the
travelers who held a _post mortem_ on the great heathen god in the
story. This was a certain very terrible and powerful divinity among some
savage tribes, of whom dreadful stories were told--very authentic, of
course! Some unbelieving scamps of travelers, by unlawful ways, managed
to get into the innermost sacred place of the temple one night. They
found the god to be done up in a very large and suspicious looking
bundle. Having sacrilegiously cut the string, they unrolled one envelop
of mats and cloths after another, until they had taken off more than a
hundred wrappers. The god grew smaller, and smaller, and smaller; and
the wonder of the travelers what he could be, larger and larger. At
last, the very innermost of all the coverings fell off, and the great
heathen god was revealed in all his native majesty. It was a cracked
soda-water bottle! This indicates--what is beyond all question the
fact--that the heathen mysteries had their foundation in gas. Indeed,
the whole composition of these impositions was, gammon, deception,
hypocrisy--Humbug! Truly, the science of Humbug is entitled to some
consideration, simply for its antiquity, if for nothing else.
CHAPTER XLVII.
HEATHEN HUMBUGS NO. 2.--HEATHEN STATED
SERVICES.--ORACLES.--SIBYLS.--AUGURIES.
Something must be said about the Oracles, the Sibyls, and the Auguries;
which, besides the mysteries elsewhere spoken of, were the chief
assistant humbugs or side shows used for keeping up the great humbug
heathen religion.
One word about the regular worship of heathenism; what maybe called
their stated services. They had no weekly day of worship, indeed no
week, and no preaching such as ours is; that is, no regular instruction
by the ministers of religion, intended for all the people. They had
singing and praying after their fashion; the singing being a sort of
chant of praise to whatever idol was under treatment at the time, and
the praying being in part vain repetitions of the name of their god, and
for the rest a request that the god would do or give whatever was asked
of him as a fair business transaction, in return for the agreeable smell
of the fine beef they had just roasted under his nose, or for whatever
else they had given him; as, a sum of money, a pair of pantaloons (or
whatever they wore instead,) a handsome golden cup. This made the temple
a regular shop, where the priests traded off promised benefits for real
beef; coining blessings into cash on the nail; a very thorough humbug.
Such public religious ceremonies as the heathen had were mostly annual,
sometimes monthly. There were also daily ones, which were, however, the
daily business of the priests, and none of the business of the laymen.
To return to the subject.
All the heathen oracles, old and new (for abundance of them are still
agoing,) sibyls, auguries and all, show how universally and naturally,
and humbly and helplessly too, poor human nature longs to see into the
future, and longs for help and guidance from some power, higher than
itself.
Thus considered, these shallow humbugs teach a useful lesson, for they
constitute a strong proof of man's inborn natural recognition of some
God, of some obligation to a higher power, of some disembodied
existence; and so they show a natural human want of exactly what the
Christian revelation supplies, and constitute a powerful evidence for
Christianity.
All the heathen religions, I believe, had oracles of some kind. But the
Greek and Latin ones tell the whole story. Of these there were over a
hundred; more than twenty of Apollo, who was the god of soothsaying,
divination, prophecy, and of the supernatural side of heathen humbug
generally; thirty or forty collectively of Jupiter, Ceres, Mercury,
Pluto, Juno, Ino (a very good name for a goddess that gave oracles,
though she didn't know!), Faunus, Fortune, Mars, etc., and nearly as
many of demi-gods, heroes, giants, etc., such as Amphiaraus,
Amphilochus, Trophonius, Geryon, Ulysses, Calchas, Æsculapius,
Hercules, Pasiphae, Phryxus, etc. The most celebrated and most
patronized of them all was the great oracle of Apollo, at Delphi. The
"little fee" appears to have been the only universal characteristic of
the proceedings for obtaining an answer from the god. Whether you got
your reply in words spoken by the rattling of an old pot, by observing
an ox's appetite, throwing dice, or sleeping for a dream, your own
proceedings were essentially the same. "Terms invariably net cash in
advance or its equivalent." A fine ox or sheep sacrificed was cash; for
after the god had had his smell (those ladies and gentlemen appear to
have eaten as they say the Yankees talk--through their noses,) all the
rest was put carefully away by the reverend clergy for dinner, and saved
so much on the butcher's bill. If your credit was good, you might
receive your oracle and afterward send in any little acknowledgment in
the form of a golden goblet, or statue, or vase, or even of a remittance
in specie. Such gifts accumulated in the oracle at Delphi and to an
immense amount, and to the great emolument of Brennus, a matter of fact
Gaulish commander, who, at his invasion of Greece, coolly carried off
all the bullion, without any regard to the screeches of the Pythoness,
and with no more scruples than any burglar.
The Delphian oracle worked through a woman, who, on certain days, went
and sat on a three-legged stool over a hole in the ground in Apollo's
temple. This hole sent out gas; which, instead of being used like that
afforded by holes in the ground at Fredonia, N. Y., to illuminate the
village, was much more shrewdly employed by the clerical gentlemen to
shine up the knowledge-boxes of their customers, and introduce the
glitter of gold into their own pockets. I merely throw out the hint to
any speculating Fredonian who owns a hole in the ground. Well, the
Pythia, as this female was termed, warmed up her understanding over this
hole, as you have seen ladies do over the register of a hot-air furnace,
and becoming excited, she presently began to be drunk or crazy, and in
her fit she gabbled forth some words or noises. These the priests took
down, and then told the customer that the noises meant so-and-so! When
business was brisk they worked two Pythias, turn and turn about (or, as
they say at sea, watch and watch), and kept a third all cocked and
primed in case of accident, besides; for this gas sometimes gave the
priestess (literally) fits, which killed her in a few days.
Other oracles gave answers in many various ways. The priest quietly
wrote down whatever answer he chose; or inspected the insides of a
slaughtered beast, and said that the bowels meant this and that. At
Telmessus the inquirer peeped into a well, where he must see a picture
in the water which was his answer; at any rate, if this wouldn't do he
got none. This plan was evidently based on the idea that "truth is at
the bottom of a well." At Dodona, they hung brass pots on the trees and
translated the banging these made when the wind blew them together. At
Pheræ, you whispered your question in the ear of the image of Mercury,
and then shutting your ears until you got out of the market-place, the
first remark you heard from anybody was the answer, and you might make
the best of it. At Pluto's oracle at Charæ, the priest took a dream,
and in the morning told you what he chose. In the cave of Trophonius,
after various terrifying performances, they pulled you through a hole
the wrong way of the feathers, and then back again, and then stuck you
upon a seat, and made you write down your own oracle, being what you had
seen, which would, I imagine, usually be "the elephant."
And so-forth, and so on. Humbug _ad libitum!_
Like some of the more celebrated modern fortune-tellers, the managers of
the oracles were frequently shrewd fellows, and could often pick up the
materials of a very smart and judicious answer from the appearance of
the customer and his question. Very often the answer was sheer nonsense.
It was, in fact, believed by many that as a rule you couldn't tell what
the response meant until after it was fulfilled, when you were expected
to see it. In many cases the answers were ingeniously arranged, so as to
mean either a good or evil result, one of which was pretty likely.
Thus, one of the oracles answered a general who asked after the fate of
his campaign as follows: (the ancients, remember, using no punctuation
marks) "Thou shalt go thou shalt return never in war shalt thou perish."
The point becomes visible when you first make a pause before "never,"
and then after it.
On a similar occasion, the Delphic oracle told Croesus that if he
crossed the River Halys he would overthrow a great empire. This empire
he chose to understand as that of Cyrus, whom he was going to fight. It
came out the other way, and it was his own empire that was overthrown.
The immense wisdom of the oracle, however, was tremendously respected in
consequence!
Pyrrhus, of Epirus, on setting off against the Romans, received equal
satisfaction, the Pythia telling him (in Latin) what amounted to this:
"I say that you Pyrrhus the Romans are able to conquer!"
Pyrrhus took it as he wished it, but found himself sadly thimble-rigged,
the little joker being under the wrong cup. The Romans beat him, and
most wofully too.
Trajan was advised to consult the oracle at Heliopolis, about his
intended expedition against the Parthians. The custom was to send your
query in a letter; so Trajan sent a blank note in an envelope. The god
(very naturally) sent back a blank note in reply, which was thought
wonderfully smart; and so the imperial dupe sent again, a square
question:
"Shall I finish this war and get safe back to Rome?"
The Heliopolitan humbug replied by sending a piece of an old grape-vine
cut into pieces, which meant either: "You will cut them up," or "They
will cut you up;" and Trajan, like the little boy at the peep-show who
asked: "which is Lord Wellington and which is the Emperor Napoleon?" had
paid his penny and might take his choice.
Sometimes the oracles were quite jocular. A man asked one of them how to
get rich? The oracle said: "Own all there is between Sicyon and
Corinth." Which places are some fifteen miles apart.
Another fellow asked how he should cure his gout? The oracle coolly
said: "Drink nothing but cold water!"
The Delphic oracle, and some of the others, used for a long time to give
their answers in verses. At last, however, irreverent critics of the
period made so much fun of the peculiarly miserable style of this
poetry, that the poor oracle gave it up and came down to plain prose.
Every once in a while some energetic and cunning man, of skeptical
character, insisted on having just such an answer as he wanted. It was
well known that Philip of Macedon bought what responses he wished at
Delphi. Anybody with plenty of money, who would quietly "see" the
priests, could have such a response as he chose. Or, if he was a
bull-headed, hard-fisted, fighting-man, of irreligious but energetic
mind, the priests gave him what he wished, out of fear. When
Themistocles wanted to encourage the Greeks against the Persians, he
"fixed" Delphi by bribes. When Alexander the Great came to consult the
same oracle, the Pythia was disinclined to perform. But Alexander rather
roughly gave her to understand that she must, and she did. The Greek and
Roman oracles finally all gave out not far from the time of Christ's
coming, having gradually become more or less disreputable for many
years.
All the heathen nations, as I have said, had their oracles too. The
heathen Scandinavians had a famous one at Upsal. The Getae, in Scythia,
had one. The Druids had them; so did the Mexican priests. The Egyptian
and Syrian divinities had them; in short, oracles were quite as
necessary as mysteries, and continue so in heathen religions. The only
exception, I believe, is in Mohammedanism, whose votaries save
themselves any trouble about the future by their thorough fatalism. They
believe so fully and vividly that everything is immovably predestinated,
being at the same time perfectly sure of heaven at last, that they
quietly receive everything as it comes, and don't take the least trouble
to find out how it is coming.
The Sibyls were women, supposed to be inspired by some divinity, who
prophesied of the future. Some say there was but one; some two, three,
four, or ten. All sorts of obscure stories are told about the time and
place of their activity. There was the Persian or Chaldean, who is said
to have foretold with many details the coming and career of Christ; the
Lybian, the Delphic, the Cumæan, much honored by the Romans, and half a
dozen more. Then there was Mantho, the daughter of Tiresias, who was
sent from Thebes to Delphi in a bag, seven hundred and twenty years
before the destruction of Troy. These ladies lived in caves, and among
them are said to have composed the Sibylline books, which contained the
mysteries of religion, were carefully kept out of sight at Rome, and
finally came into the hands of the Emperor Constantine. They were
burned, one story has it, about fifty years after his death. But there
are some Sibylline books extant, which, however, are among the most
transparent of humbugs, for they are full of all sorts of extracts and
statements from the Old and New Testaments. I do not believe there ever
were any Sibyls. If there were any, they were probably ill-natured and
desperate old maids, who turned so sour-tempered that their friends had
to drive them off to live by themselves, and who, under these
circumstances, went to work and wrote books.
I must crowd in here a word or two about the Auguries and the Augurs.
These gentlemen were a sort of Roman priests, who were accustomed to
foretell future events, decide on coming good or bad fortune, whether it
would do to go on with the elections, to begin any enterprise or not,
etc., by means of various signs. These were thunder; the way any birds
happened to fly; the way that the sacred chickens ate; the appearance of
the entrails of beasts sacrificed, etc., etc. These augurs were, for a
long time, much respected in Rome, but, at last, the more thoughtful
people lost their belief in them, and they became so ridiculous that
Cicero, who was himself one of them, said he could not see how one augur
could look another in the face without laughing.
It is humiliating to reflect how long and how extensively such barefaced
and monstrous humbugs as these have maintained unquestioned authority
over almost the whole race of man. Nor has humanity, by any means,
escaped from such debasing slavery now; for millions and millions of men
still believe and practice forms and ceremonies even more absurd, if
possible, than the Mysteries, Oracles, and Auguries.
CHAPTER XLVIII.
MODERN HEATHEN HUMBUGS.--FETISHISM.--OBI.--VAUDOUX.--INDIAN
POWWOWS.--LAMAISM.--REVOLVING PRAYERS.--PRAYING TO DEATH.
A scale of superstition and religious beliefs of to-day, arranged from
the lowest to the highest, would show many curious coincidences with
another scale, which should trace the history of superstitions and
religious beliefs backward in time toward the origin of man. Thus, for
instance, the heathen humbugs, whether revolting or ridiculous, which I
am to speak of in this chapter, are in full blast to day; and they
furnish perfect specimens of the beliefs which prevailed among the
heathen of four thousand and of eighteen hundred years ago; of the
Chaldee and Canaanite superstitions, and equally of those of the Romans
under Augustus Cæsar.
The most dirty, vulgar, low, silly and absurd of all the superstitions
in the world are, as is natural, those of the darkest minded of all the
heathen, who have any superstition at all. For, as if for the
humiliation of our proud human nature, there are really some human
beings who seem to have too little intellect even to rise to the height
of a superstition. Such are the Andaman Islanders, who crawl on all
fours, wear nothing but a plaster of mud to keep the musquitos off, eat
bugs, and grubs, and ants, and turn their children out to shift for
themselves as soon as the little wretches can learn to crawl and eat
bugs.
These lowest of superstitions are Fetishism and Obi, believed and
practiced by negro tribes, and, remember this, even by their ignorant
white mistresses in the West Indies and in the United States, to day.
Yes, I know where Southern refugee secessionist women are living in and
about New York city at this moment, who really believe in the negro
witchcraft called Obi, practiced by the slaves.
A Fetish is anything not a living being, worshiped because supposed to
be inhabited by some god. In some parts of Africa the Fetishes are a
sort of guardian divinity, and there is one for each district like a
town constable; and sometimes one for each family. The Fetish is any
stone picked up in the street--a tree, a chip, a rag. It may be some
stone or wooden image--an old pot, a knife, a feather. Before this
precious divinity the poor darkeys bow down and worship, and sometimes,
sacrifice a sheep or a rooster. Each more important Fetish has a priest,
and here is where the humbug comes in. This gentleman lives on the
offerings made to the Fetish, and he "exploits" his god, as a Frenchman
would say, with great profit.
Obi or Obeah, is the name of the witchcraft of the negro tribes; and the
practitioner is termed an Obi-man or Obi-woman. They practice it at home
in Africa, and carry it with them to continue it when they are made
slaves in other lands. Obi is now practiced, as I have already hinted,
in Cuba and in the Southern States, and is believed in by the more
ignorant and foolish white people, as much as by their barbarous
slaves. Obi is used only to injure, and the way to perform it upon your
enemy is, to hire the Obi man or woman to concoct a charm, and then to
hide this, or cause it to be hidden, in some place about the person or
abode of the victim where he will find it. He is expected thereupon to
fall ill, to wither and waste away, and so to die.
Absurd as it may seem, this cursing business operates with a good deal
of certainty on the poor negroes, who fall sick instantly on finding the
ball of Obi, two or three inches in diameter, hidden in their bed, or in
the roof, or under the threshold, or in the earthen floor of their huts.
The poor wretches become dejected, lose appetite, strength, and spirits,
grow thin and ill, and really wither away and die. It is a curious fact,
however, that if under these circumstances you can cause one of them to
become converted to Christianity, or to become a Christian by
profession, he becomes at once free from the witches' dominion and
quickly recovers.
The ball of Obi--or, as it is called among the Brazilian negroes,
Mandinga--may be made of various materials, always, I believe, including
some which are disgusting or horrible. Leaves of trees and scraps of rag
may be used; ashes, usually from bones or flesh of some kind; pieces of
cats' bones and skulls, feathers, hair, earth, or clay, which ought to
be from a grave; teeth of men and of snakes, alligators or other beasts;
vegetable gum, or other sticky stuff; human blood, pieces of eggshell,
etc., etc. This mixture is curiously like that in the witches' caldron
in Macbeth, which, among other equally toothsome matters, contained
frogs' toes, bats' wool, lizards' legs, owlets' wings, wolfs' teeth,
witches' mummy, Jew's liver, tigers' bowels, and lastly, as a sort of
thickening to the gravy, baboon's blood.
A creole lady, now at the North, recently told a friend of mine that
"the negroes can put some pieces of paper, or powder, or something or
other in your shoes, that will make you sick, or make you do anything
they want!" The poor foolish woman told this with a face full of awe and
eyes wide open. Another lady known to me, long resident at the South,
tells me that the belief in this sort of devilism is often found among
the white people.
The practices called Vaudoux or Voudoux, are a sort of Obi; being, like
that, an invoking of the aid of some god to do what the worshipers wish.
The Vaudoux humbug is quite prevalent in Cuba, Hayti, and other West
India islands, where there are wild negroes, or where they are still
imported from Africa. There is also a good deal of this sort of humbug
among the slaves in New Orleans, and cases arising from it have recently
quite often appeared in the police reports in the newspapers of that
city.
The Vaudoux worshipers assemble secretly, with a kind of chief witch or
mistress of ceremonies; there is a boiling caldron of hell-broth, _a la_
Macbeth; the votaries dance naked around their soup; amulets and charms
are made and distributed. During a quarter of a century last past, some
hundreds of these orgies have been broken up by the New Orleans police,
and probably as many more have come off as per programme. The Vaudoux
processes are most frequently appealed to for the purposes of some
unsuccessful or jealous lover; and the Creole ladies believe in
Vaudouxism as much as in Obi.
In the West Indies, the Vaudoux orgies are more savage than in this
country. It is but a little while since in Hayti, under the energetic
and sensible administration of President Geffrard, eight Vaudoux
worshipers were regularly tried and executed for having murdered a young
girl, the niece of two of them, by way of human sacrifice to the god.
They tied the poor child tight, put her in a box called a humfort, fed
her with some kind of stuff for four days, and then deliberately
strangled her, beheaded her, flayed her, cooked the head with yams, ate
of the soup, and then performed a solemn dance and chant around an altar
with the skull on it.
The Caffres in Southern Africa have a kind of humbug somewhat like the
Obi-men, who are known as rainmakers. These gentlemen furnish what
blessing and cursing may be required for other purposes; but as that
country is liable to tremendous droughts, their best business is to make
rain. This they do by various prayers and ceremonies, of which the most
important part is, receiving a large fee in advance from the customer.
The rain-making business, though very lucrative, is not without its
disadvantages; for whenever Moselekatse, or Dingaan, or any other chief
sets his rainmaker at work, and the rain was not forthcoming as per
application, the indignant ruler caused an assegai or two to be stuck
through the wizard, for the encouragement of the other wizards. This
was not so unreasonable as it may seem; for if the man could not make
rain when it was wanted, what was he good for?
The ceremonies of the pow-wows or medicine-men of the North American
Indians, are less brutal than the African ones. These soothsayers, like
the Obi-men, prepared charms for their customers, usually, however, not
so much to destroy others as to protect the wearer. These charms consist
of some trifling matters tied up in a small bag, the "medicine-bag,"
which is to be worn round the neck, and will, it is supposed, insure the
wearer the special help and protection of the Great Spirit. The pow-wows
sometimes do a little in the cursing line.
There is a funny story of a Puritan minister in the early times of New
England, who coolly defied one of the most famous Indian magicians to
play off his infernal artillery. A formal meeting was had, and the
pow-wow rattled his traps, howled, danced, blew feathers, and
vociferated jargon until he was perfectly exhausted, the old minister
quietly looking at him all the time. The savage humbug was dumbfounded,
but quickly recovering his presence of mind, saved his home-reputation
by explaining to the red gentlemen in breech-cloths and nose-rings, that
the Yankee ate so much salt that curses wouldn't take hold on him at
all.
The Shamans (or Schamans) of Siberia, follow a very similar business,
but are not so much priestly humbugs as mere conjurors. The Lamas, or
Buddhist leaders of Central and Southern Asia are, however, regular
priests, again, and may be said, with singular propriety, to "run their
machine" on principles of thorough religious humbug, for they do really
pray by a machine. They set up a little mill to go by water or wind,
which turns a cylinder. On this cylinder is written a prayer, and every
time the barrel goes round once, it counts, they say, for one prayer. It
may be imagined how piety intensifies in a freshet, or in a heavy gale
of wind! And there is a ludicrous notion of economy, as well as a
pitiable folly in the conception of profiting by such windy
supplications, and of saving all one's time and thoughts for business,
while the prayers rattle out by the hundred at home. Only imagine the
pious fervor of one of these priests in a first-class Lowell mill, of
say a hundred thousand spindles. Print a large edition of some good
prayer and paste a copy on each spindle, and the place would seem to him
the very gate of a Buddhist heaven. He would feel sure of taking heaven
by storm, with a sustained fire of one hundred thousand prayers every
second. His first requisite for a prosperous church would be a good
water-power for prayer-mills. And yet, absurd as these prayer-mills of
the heathen really are, it may not be safe to bring them under
unqualified condemnation: for who among us has not sometimes heard windy
prayers even in our Christian churches? Young clergymen are especially
liable and, I might say, prone to this mockery. These, however, are but
exceptions to the general Christian rule, viz.: that the Omniscient
careth only for heart-service; and that, before Him, all mere
lip-service or machine-service, is simply an abomination.
A less innocent kind of praying is one of the religious humbugs of the
bloody and cruel Sandwich Islands form of heathenism. Here a practice
prevailed, and does yet, of paying money to a priest to pray your enemy
to death. For cash in advance, this bargain could always be made, and so
groveling was the spiritual cowardice of these poor savages, that, like
the negro victim of Obi, the man prayed at seldom failed to sicken as
soon as he found out what was going on, and to waste away and die.
This bit of heathen humbug now in operation, from so many distant
portions of the earth, shows how radically similar is all heathenism. It
shows, too, how mean, vulgar, filthy, and altogether vile, is such
religion as man, unassisted, contrives for himself. It shows, again, how
sadly great is the proportion of the human race still remaining in this
brutal darkness. And, by contrast, it affords us great reason for
thankfulness that we live in a land of better culture, and happier hopes
and practices.
CHAPTER XLIX.
ORDEALS.--DUELS.--WAGER OF BATTLE.--ABRAHAM THORNTON.--RED HOT
IRON.--BOILING WATER.--SWIMMING.--SWEARING.--CORSNED.--PAGAN ORDEALS.
Ordeals belong to times and communities of rudeness, violence,
materialism, ignorance, gross superstition and blind faith. The theory
of ordeals is, that God will miraculously decide in the case of any
accused person referred to Him. He will cause the accused to be
victorious or defeated in a duel, will punish him on the spot for
perjury, and if the innocent be exposed to certain physical dangers,
will preserve him harmless.
The duel, for instance, used to be called the "ordeal by battle," and
was simply the commitment of the decision of a cause to God. Duels were
regularly prefaced by the solemn prayer "God show the right." Now-a-days
nobody believes that skill with a pistol is going to be specially
bestowed by the Almighty, without diligent practice at a mark.
Accordingly, the idea of a divine interposition has long ago dropped out
of the question, and duelling is exclusively in the hands of the devil
and his human votaries,--is a purely brutal absurdity. But in England,
so long was this bloody, superstitious humbug kept up, that any hardened
scoundrel who was a good hand at his weapon might, down to the year
1819, absolutely have committed murder under the protection of English
law. Two years before that date, a country "rough" named Abraham
Thornton, murdered his sweetheart, Mary Ashford, but by deficiency of
proof was acquitted on trial. There was however a moral conviction that
Thornton had killed the girl, and her brother, a mere lad, caused an
appeal to be entered according to the English statute, and Thornton was
again arraigned before the King's Bench. In the mean time his counsel
had looked up the obsolete proceedings about "assize of battle," and
when Thornton was placed at the bar he threw down his glove upon the
floor according to the ancient forms, and challenged his accuser to
mortal combat. In reply, the appellant, Ashford, set forth facts so
clearly showing Thornton's guilt as to constitute (as he alleged,)
cause for exemption from the combat, and for condemnation of the
prisoner. The court, taken by surprise, spent five months in studying on
the matter. At last it decided that the fighting man had the law of
England on his side, admitted his demand, and further, found that the
matters alleged for exemption from combat were not sufficient. On this,
poor William Ashford, who was but a boy, declined the combat by reason
of his youth, and the prisoner was discharged, and walked in triumph out
of court, the innocent blood still unavenged upon his hands. The old
fogies of Parliament were startled at finding themselves actually
permitting the practice of barbarisms abolished by the Greek emperor,
Michael Palaeologus, in 1259, and by the good King Louis IX of France in
1270; and two years afterwards, in 1819, the legal duel or "assize of
battle" was by law abolished in England. It had been legal there for
five centuries and a half, having been introduced by statute in 1261.
Before that time, the ordeals by fire and by water were the regular
legal ones in England. These were known even to the Anglo Saxon law,
being mentioned in the code of Ina, A. D., about 700. It appears that
fire was thought the most aristocratic element, for the ordeal by fire
was used for nobles, and that by water for vulgarians and serfs. The
operations were as follows: When one was accused of a crime, murder for
instance, he had his choice whether to be tried "by God and his
country," or "by God." If he chose the former he went before a jury. If
the latter, he underwent the ordeal. Nine red hot ploughshares were
laid on the ground in a row. The accused was blindfolded, and sent to
walk over them. If he burnt himself he was guilty; if not, not.
Sometimes, instead of this, the accused carried a piece of red hot iron
of from one to three pounds' weight in his hand for a certain distance.
The ordeal by water was, in one form at least, the same wise alternative
in after years so often offered to witches. The accused was tied up in a
heap, each arm to the other leg, and flung into water. If he floated he
was guilty, and must be killed. If he sank and drowned, he was
innocent--but killed. Trial was therefore synonymous with execution. The
nature of such alternatives shows how important it was to have a
character above suspicion! Another mode was, for the accused to plunge
his bare arm into boiling water to the elbow. The arm was then instantly
sealed up in bandages under charge of the clergy for three days. If it
was then found perfectly well, the accused was acquitted; if not, he was
found guilty.
Another ordeal was expurgation or compurgation. It was a simple
business--"as easy as swearing;" very much like a "custom house oath."
It was only this: the accused made solemn oath that he was not guilty,
and all the respectable men he could muster came and made their solemn
oath that they believed so too. This is much like the jurisprudence of
the Dutch justice of the peace in the old story, before whom two men
swore that they saw the prisoner steal chickens. The thief however,
getting a little time to collect testimony, brought in twelve men who
swore that they did not see him take the chickens. "Balance of evidence
overwhelmingly in favor of the prisoner," said the sapient justice (in
Dutch I suppose,) and finding him innocent in a ratio of six to one, he
discharged him at once.
This ordeal by oath was reserved for people of eminence, whose word went
for something, and who had a good many thorough-going friends.
Another sort of ordeal was reserved for priests. It was called
_corsned_. The priest who took the ordeal by _corsned_ received a bit of
bread or a bit of cheese which was loaded heavily, by way of sauce, with
curses upon whomsoever should eat it falsely. This he ate, together with
the bread of the Lord's supper. Everybody knew that if he were guilty,
the sacred mouthful would choke him to death on the spot. History
records no instance of the choking of any priest in this ordeal, but
there is a story that the Saxon Earl Godwin of Kent took the _corsned_
to clear himself of a charge of murder, and (being a layman) was choked.
I fully believe that Earl Godwin is dead, for he was born about the year
1000. But I have not the least idea that _corsned_ killed him.
The priests had the management of ordeals, which, being appeals to God,
were reckoned religious ceremonies. They of course much preferred the
swearing and eating and hot iron and water ordeals, which could be kept
under the regulation of clerical good sense. Not so with the ordeal by
battle. No priests could do anything with the wrath of two great mad
ugly brutes, hot to kill each other, and crazy to risk having their own
throats cut or skulls cleft rather than not have the chance. In
consequence, the whole influence of the Romish church went against the
ordeal by battle, and in favor of the others. Thus the former soon lost
its religious element and became the mere duel; a base indulgence of a
beast's passion for murder and revenge. The progress of enlightenment
gradually pushed ordeals out of court. Mobs have however always tried
the ordeal by water on witches.
Almost all the heathen ordeals have depended on fire, water, or
something to eat or drink. Even in the Bible we find an ordeal
prescribed to the Jews (Numbers, chap v.,) for an unfaithful wife, who
is there directed to drink some water with certain ceremonies, which
drink God promises shall cause a fatal disease if she be guilty, and if
not, not. It is worth noticing that Moses says not a word about any
"water of jealousy," or any other ordeal, for unfaithful husbands!
This drinking or eating ordeal prevails quite extensively even now. In
Hindostan, theft is often enquired into by causing the suspected party
to chew some dry rice or rice flour, which has some very strong curses
stirred into it, _corsned_ fashion. After chewing, the accused spits out
his mouthful, and if it is either dry or bloody, he is guilty. It is
easy to see how a rascal, if as credulous as rascals often are, would be
so frightened that his mouth would be dry, and would thus betray his own
peccadillo. Another Hindoo mode was, to give a certain quantity of
poison in butter, and if it did no harm, to acquit. Here, the man who
mixes the dose is evidently the important person. In Madagascar they
give some _tangena_ water. Now tangena is a fruit of which a little
vomits the patient, and a good deal poisons or kills him; a quality
which sufficiently explains how they manage that ordeal.
Ordeals by fire and water are still practiced, with some variations, in
Hindostan, China, Pegu, Siberia, Congo, Guinea, Senegambia and other
pagan nations. Some of those still in use are odd enough. A Malabar one
is to swim across a certain river, which is full of crocodiles. A Hindoo
one is, for the two parties to an accusation to stand out doors, each
with one bare leg in a hole, he to win who can longest endure the bites
they are sure to get. This would be a famous method in some of the New
Jersey and New York and Connecticut seashore lowlands I know of. The
mosquitoes would decide cases both civil and criminal, at a speed that
would make a Judge of the Supreme Court as dizzy as a humming-top.
Another Hindoo plan was for the accused to hold his head under water
while a man walked a certain distance. If the walker chose to be lazy
about it, or the prisoner had diseased lungs, this would be a rather
severe method. The Wanakas in Eastern Africa, draw a red hot needle
through the culprit's lips--a most judicious place to get hold of an
African!--and if the wound bleeds, he is guilty. In Siam, accuser and
accused are put into a pen and a tiger is let loose on them. He whom the
tiger kills is guilty. If he kills both, both are guilty; if neither,
they try another mode.
Blackstone says that an ordeal might always be tried by attorney. I
should think this would give the legal profession a very lively time
whenever the courts were chiefly using tigers, poison, drowning, fire
and red hot iron, but not so much so when a little swearing or eating
was the only thing required.
This whole business of ordeals is a singular superstition, and the
extent of its employment shows how ready the human race is to believe
that God is constantly influencing even their ordinary private affairs.
In other words, it is in principle like the doctrine of "special
providence." Looked at as a superstition however--considered as a
humbug--the history of ordeals show how corrupt becomes the nuisance of
religious ways of deciding secular business, and how proper is our great
American principle of the separation of state and church.
CHAPTER L.
APOLLONIUS OF TYANA.
The annals of ancient history are peculiarly rich in narratives of
pretension and imposition, and either owing to the greater ignorance and
credulity of mankind, or the superior skill of gifted but unscrupulous
men in those days, present a few examples that even surpass the most
remarkable products of the modern science of humbug.
One of their most surprising instances--in fact, perhaps, absolutely the
leading impostor--was the sage or charlatan (for it is difficult to
determine which) known as Apollonius Tyanæus so called from Tyana, in
Cappadocia, Asia Minor, his birthplace, where he first saw the light
about four years earlier than Christ, and consequently more than
eighteen and a half centuries ago. His arrival upon this planet was
attended with some very amazing demonstrations. With his first cry, a
flash of lightning darted from the heavens to the earth and back again,
dogs howled, cats mewed, roosters crowed, and flocks of swans, so say
the olden chroniclers--probably geese, every one of them--clapped their
wings in the adjacent meadows with a supernatural clatter. Ushered into
the world with such surprising omens as these, young Apollonius could
not fail to make a noise himself, ere long. Sent by his doting father to
Tarsus, in Cilicia, to be educated, he found the dissipations of the
place too much for him, and soon removed to Ægæ, a smaller city, at no
great distance from the other. There he adopted the doctrines of
Pythagoras, and subjected himself to the regular discipline of that
curious system whose first process was a sort of juvenile gag-law, the
pupils being required to keep perfectly silent for a period of five
years, during which time it was forbidden to utter a single word. Even
in those days, few female scholars preferred this practice, and the boys
had it all to themselves, nor were they by any means numerous. After
this probation was over, they were enjoined to speak and argue with
moderation.
At Ægæ there stood a temple dedicated to Æsculapius, who figured on
earth as a great physician and compounder of simples, and after death
was made a god. The edifice was much larger and more splendid than the
Brandreth House on Broadway, although we have no record of Æsculapius
having bestowed upon the world any such benefaction as the universal
pills. However, unlike our modern M. D.s, the latter was in the habit of
re-appearing after death, in this temple, and there holding forth to the
faithful on various topics of domestic medicine. Apollonius was allowed
to take up his residence in the establishment, and, no doubt, the
priests initiated him into all their dodges to impose upon the people.
Another tenet of the Pythagorean faith was a total abstinence from
beans, an arrangement which would be objectionable in New England and in
Nassau street eating houses.
Apollonius however, who knew nothing of Yankees or Nassau street,
manfully completed his novitiate. Restored at length to the use of beans
and of his talking apparatus, he set forth upon a lecturing tour through
Pamphylia and Cilicia. His themes were temperance, economy, and good
behavior, and for the very novelty of the thing, crowds of disciples
soon gathered about him. At the town of Aspenda he made a great hit,
when he "pitched into" the corn merchants who had bought up all the
grain during a period of scarcity, and sold it to the people at
exorbitant prices. Of course, such things are not permitted in our day!
Apollonius moved by the sufferings of women and children, took his stand
in the market place, and with his stylus wrote in large characters upon
a tablet the following advice to the speculators in grain:
"The earth, the common mother of all, is just. But, ye being unjust,
would make her a bountiful mother to yourselves alone. Leave off your
dishonest traffic, or ye shall be no longer permitted to live."
The grain-merchants, upon beholding this appeal, relented, for there was
conscience in those days; and, moreover, the populace had prepared
torches, and proposed to fry a few of the offenders, like oysters in
bread-crumbs. So they yielded at once, and great was the fame of the
prophet. Thus elevated in his own opinion, Apollonius, still preaching
virtue by the wayside, set out for Babylon, after visiting the cities of
Antioch, Ephesus, etc., always attracting immense crowds. As he
penetrated further toward the remote East, his troops of followers fell
off, until he was left with only three companions, who went with him to
the end. One of these was a certain Damis, who wrote a description of
the journey, and, by the way, tells us that his master spoke all
languages, even those of the animals. We have men in our own country who
can talk "horse-talk" at the races, but probably none so perfectly as
this great Tyanean. The author of "The Ruined Cities of Africa," a
recent publication, informs us that at Lamba, an African village, there
is a leopard who can "speak." This would go to show that the "animals,"
are aspiring in a direction directly the opposite of the acquirements of
Apollonius, and I shall secure that leopard, if possible, for exhibition
in the Museum, and for a fair consideration send him to any public
meeting where some one is needed who will come up to the scratch!
But, to resume. On his way to Babylon, Apollonius saw by the roadside a
lioness and eight whelps, where they had been killed by a party of
hunters, and argued from the omen that he should remain in that city
just one year and eight months, which of course turned out to be exactly
the case. The Babylonish monarch was so delighted with the eloquence and
skill of the noted stranger, that he promised him any twelve gifts that
he might choose to ask for, but Apollonius declined accepting anything
but food and raiment. However, the King gave him camels and escort to
assist his journey over the northern mountains of Hindostan, which he
crossed, and entered the ancient city of Taxilia. On the way, he had a
high time in the gorges of the hills with a horrible hobgoblin of the
species called empusa by the Greeks. This demon terrified his companions
half out of their wits, but Apollonius bravely assailed him with all
sorts of hard words, and, to literally translate the old Greek
narrative, "blackguarded" him so effectually that the poor devil fled
with his tail between his legs. At Taxilia, Phraortes, the King, a
lineal descendant of the famous Porus--and truly a porous personage,
since he was renowned for drinking--gave the philosopher a grand
reception, and introduced him to the chief of the Brahmins, whose
temples he explored. These Hindoo gentlemen opened the eyes of
Apollonius wider than they had ever been before, and taught him a few
things he had never dreamed of, but which served him admirably during
his latter career. He returned to Europe by way of the Red Sea, passing
through Ephesus, where he vehemently denounced the speculators in gold
and other improper persons. As they did not heed him, he predicted the
plague, and left for Smyrna. Sure enough, the pestilence broke out just
after his departure, and the Ephesians telegraphed to Smyrna, by the
only means in their power, for his immediate return; gold, in the
meanwhile, falling at least ten per cent. Apollonius reappeared in the
twinkling of an eye, suddenly, in the very midst of the wailing crowd,
on the market place. Pointing to a beggar, he directed the people to
stone that particular unfortunate, and they obeyed so effectually, that
the hapless creature was in a few moments completely buried under a huge
heap of brickbats. The next morning, the philosopher commanded the
throng to remove the pile of stones, and as they did so, a dog was
discovered instead of the beggar. The dog sprang up, wagged his tail,
and made away at "two-forty" and with him the pestilence departed. For
this feat, the Ephesians called Apollonius a god, and reared a statue to
his honor. The appellation of divinity he willingly accepted, declaring
that it was only justice to good men. In these degenerate days, we have
accorded the term to only one person, "the divine Fanny Ellsler!" That,
too, was a tribute to superior understanding!
Our hero next visited Pergamus, the site of ancient Troy, where he shut
himself up all night in the tomb of Achilles; and having raised the
great departed, held conversation with him on a variety of military
topics. Among other things, Achilles told him that the theory of his
having been killed by a wound in the heel was all nonsense, as he had
really died from being bitten by a puppy, in the back. If the reader
does not believe me, let him consult the original MS. of Damis. The
same accident has disabled several great generals in modern times.
Apollonius next made a tour through Greece, visiting Athens, Sparta,
Olympia, and other cities, and exhorting the dissolute Greeks to mend
their evil courses. The Spartans, particularly, came in for a severe
lecture on the advantages of soap and water; and, it is said, that the
first clean face ever seen in that republic was the result of the great
Tyanean's teachings. At Athens, he cured a man possessed of a demon; the
latter bouncing out of his victim, at length, with such fury and
velocity as to dash down a neighboring marble statue.
The Isle of Crete was the next point on the journey, and an earthquake
occurring at the time, Apollonius suddenly exclaimed in the streets:
"The earth is bringing forth land."
Folks looked as he pointed toward the sea, and there beheld a new island
in the direction of Therae.
He arrived at Rome, whither his fame had preceded him, just as the
Emperor Nero had issued an edict against all who dealt in magic; and,
although he knew that he was included in the denunciation, he boldly
went to the forum, where he restored to life the dead body of a
beautiful lady, and predicted an eclipse of the sun, which shortly
occurred. Nero caused him to be arrested, loaded with chains, and flung
into an underground dungeon. When his jailers next made their rounds,
they found the chains broken and the cell empty, but heard the chanting
of invisible angels. This story would not be believed by the head
jailer at Sing Sing.
Prolonging his trip as far as Spain, Apollonius there got up a sedition
against the authority of Nero, and thence crossed over into Africa. This
was the darkest period of his history. From Africa, he proceeded to the
South of Italy and the island of Sicily, still discoursing as he went.
About this time, he heard of Nero's death, and returned to Egypt, where
Vespasian was endeavoring to establish his authority. While in Egypt, he
explored the supposed sources of the Nile, and learned all the lore of
the Ethiopean necromancers, who could do any thing, even to making a
black man white; thus greatly excelling the skill of after ages.
Vespasian had immense faith in the Tyanean sage, and consulted him upon
the most important matters of State. Titus, the successor of that
monarch, manifested equal confidence, and regarded him absolutely as an
oracle. Apollonius, who really seems to have been a most sensible
politician, wrote the following brief but pithy note to Titus, when the
latter modestly refused the crown of victory, after having destroyed
Jerusalem.
"Apollonius to Titus, Emperor of Rome, sendeth greeting. Since you have
refused to be applauded for bloodshed and victory in war, I send you the
crown of moderation. You know to what kind of merit crowns are due."
Yet Apollonius was by no means an ultra peace man, for he strongly
advocated the shaving and clothing of the Ethiopians, and their thorough
chastisement when they refused to be combed and purified.
When Domitian grasped at the imperial sceptre, the great Tyanean sided
with his rival, Nerva, and having for this offence been seized and cast
into prison, suddenly vanished from sight and reappeared on the instant
at Puteoli, one hundred and fifty miles away. The distinguished Mr.
Jewett, of Colorado, is the only instance of similar rapidity of
locomotion known to us in this country and time.
After taking breath at Puteoli, the sage resumed his travels and
revisited Greece, Asia Minor, etc. At Ephesus he established his
celebrated school, and then, once more returning to Crete, happened to
give his old friends, the Cretans, great offence, and was shut up in the
temple Dictymna to be devoured by famished dogs; but the next morning
was found perfectly unharmed in the midst of the docile animals, who had
already made considerable progress in the Pythagorean philosophy, and
were gathered around the philosopher, seated on their hind legs, with
open mouths and lolling tongues, intently listening to him while he
lectured them in the canine tongue. So devoted had they become to their
eloquent instructor, and so enraged were they at the interruption when
the Cretans re-opened the temple, that they rushed out upon the latter
and made a breakfast of a few of the leading men.
This is one of the last of the remarkable incidents that we find
recorded of the mighty Apollonius. How he came to his end is quite
uncertain, but some veracious chroniclers declare that he simply dried
up and blew away. Others aver that he lived to the good old age of
ninety-seven, and then quietly gave up the ghost at Tyana, where a
temple was dedicated to his memory.
However that may be, he was subsequently worshiped with divine honors,
and so highly esteemed by the greatest men of after days, that even
Aurelian refused to sack Tyana, out of respect to the philosopher's
ashes.
Dion Cassius, the historian, records one of the most remarkable
instances of his clairvoyance or second sight. He states that
Apollonius, in the midst of a discourse at Ephesus, suddenly paused, and
then in a different voice, exclaimed, to the astonishment of all:--"Have
courage, good Stephanus! Strike! strike! Kill the tyrant!" On that same
day, the hated Domitian was assassinated at Rome by a man named
Stephanus. The humdrum interpretation of this "miracle" is simply that
Apollonius had a foreknowledge of the intended attempt upon the tyrant's
life.
Long afterwards, Cagliostro claimed that he had been a fellow-traveler
with Apollonius, and that his mysterious companion, the sage Athlotas,
was the very same personage, who, consequently, at that time, must have
reached the ripe age of some 1784 years--a lapse of time beyond the
memory of even "the oldest inhabitant," in these parts, at least!
THE END.
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IN THE TROPICS.-- do. do. $1.75
=A. S. Roe's Works.=
A LONG LOOK AHEAD.-- A novel. 12mo. cloth, $1.50
TO LOVE AND TO BE LOVED.-- do. do. $1.50
TIME AND TIDE.-- do. do. $1.50
I'VE BEEN THINKING.-- do. do. $1.50
THE STAR AND THE CLOUD.-- do. do. $1.50
TRUE TO THE LAST.-- do. do. $1.50
HOW COULD HE HELP IT.-- do. do. $1.50
LIKE AND UNLIKE.-- do. do. $1.50
LOOKING AROUND.-- _Just published._ do. $1.50
=Walter Barrett, Clerk.=
OLD MERCHANTS OF NEW YORK.--Being personal incidents, interesting
sketches, bits of biography, and gossipy events in the life of
nearly every leading merchant in New York City. Three
series. 12mo. cloth, each, $1.75
=T. S. Arthur's New Works.=
LIGHT ON SHADOWED PATHS.-- A novel. 12mo. cloth, $1.50
OUT IN THE WORLD.-- do. do. $1.50
NOTHING BUT MONEY.-- do. do. $1.50
WHAT CAME AFTERWARDS.-- _In press._ do. $1.50
=Orpheus C. Kerr.=
ORPHEUS C. KERR PAPERS.-- Three series. 12mo. cloth, $1.50
THE PALACE BEAUTIFUL.-- And other poems. do. $1.50
=M. Michelet's Works.=
LOVE (L'AMOUR).-- From the French. 12mo. cloth, $1.50
WOMAN (LA FEMME).-- do. do. $1.50
=Edmund Kirke.=
AMONG THE PINES.-- A Southern sketch. 12mo. cloth, $1.50
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DOWN IN TENNESSEE.-- Just published. do. $1.50
=Cuthbert Bede.=
VERDANT GREEN.--A rollicking, humorous novel of English student
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NEARER AND DEARER.--A novel, illustrated. 12mo. clo. $1.50
=Ernest Renan.=
THE LIFE OF JESUS.--Translated by C. E. Wilbour from the celebrated
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RELIGIOUS HISTORY AND CRITICISM.-- 8vo. cloth, $2.50
=Cuyler Pine.=
MARY BRANDEGEE.--An American novel. $1.75
A NEW NOVEL.--_In press._ $1.75
=Josh Billings.=
HIS BOOK.--Containing all the rich comic sayings of this celebrated
writer. Illustrated. _In press._ 12mo. cloth, $1.50
=Epes Sargent.=
PECULIAR.--One of the most remarkable and successful novels
published in this country. 12mo. cloth, $1.75
=Mrs. Ritchie (Anna Cora Mowatt).=
FAIRY FINGERS.--A new novel. 12mo. cloth, $1.75
THE MUTE SINGER.-- do. _In press._ do. $1.75
=Robert B. Roosevelt.=
THE GAME FISH OF THE NORTH.--Illustrated. 12mo. cl. $2.00
SUPERIOR FISHING.-- do. do. $2.00
THE GAME BIRDS OF THE NORTH.--_In press._ do. $2.00
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THE SQUIBOB PAPERS.--A new humorous volume, filled with comic
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WYLDER'S HAND.--A powerful new novel. 12mo. cloth, $1.75
THE HOUSE BY THE CHURCHYARD.-- do. do. $1.75
=P. T. Barnum.=
THE HUMBUGS OF THE WORLD.--_In press._ 12mo. cloth, $1.75
=Charles Reade.=
THE CLOISTER AND THE HEARTH.--A magnificent new novel, by the
author of "Hard Cash," etc. 8vo. cloth, $2.00
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TALES FROM THE OPERAS.--A collection of clever stories, based
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A BOOK ABOUT DOCTORS.--An entertaining volume about famous
physicians and surgeons. 12mo. cloth, $1.75
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BEATRICE CENCI.--The great historical novel. Translated from the
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=Private Miles O'Reilly.=
HIS BOOK.--Comic songs, speeches, etc. 12mo. cloth, $1.50
A NEW BOOK.--_In press._ do. $1.50
=Rev. John Cumming, D.D., of London.=
THE GREAT TRIBULATION.--Two series. 12mo. cloth, $1.50
THE GREAT PREPARATION.-- do. do. $1.50
THE GREAT CONSUMMATION.-- do. do. $1.50
=Gomery of Montgomery.=
A striking new novel. One thick vol., 12mo. cloth, $2.00
=M. A. Fisher.=
A SPINSTER'S STORY.--A novel. _In press._ 12mo. cloth, $1.75
=Novels by Ruffini.=
DR. ANTONIO.--A love story of Italy. 12mo. cloth, $1.75
LAVINIA; OR, THE ITALIAN ARTIST.-- do. $1.75
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HUMOROUS RHYMES for grown people; based upon the famous "Mother
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=The New York Central Park.=
A SUPERB GIFT BOOK.--The Central Park pleasantly described, and
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Presentation Book. $30.00
=M. T. Walworth.=
LULU.--A new novel. 12mo. cloth, $1.50
HOTSPUR.-- do. do. $1.50
=Author of "Olie."=
NEPENTHE.--A new novel. 12mo. cloth, $1.50
TOGETHER.-- do. do. $1.50
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THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A NEW ENGLAND FARM-HOUSE.-- $1.75
=Amelia B. Edwards.=
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FREE GOVERNMENT IN ENGLAND AND AMERICA.-- 8vo. cl. $3.00
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LOVERS AND THINKERS.--A new novel. $1.50
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POEMS.--Printed on tinted paper. 12mo. cloth, $1.50
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DRIFTING ABOUT.--Comic book, illustrated, 12mo. cloth, $1.50
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TREATISE ON DEAFNESS.--By Dr. E. B. Lighthill. do. $1.50
THE PRISONER OF STATE.--By D. A. Mahoney. do. $1.50
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CHINA AND THE CHINESE.--By W. L. G. Smith. do. $1.50
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SPREES AND SPLASHES.--By Henry Morford. do. $1.50
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THE YACHTMAN'S PRIMER.--By T. R. Warren. do. 50 cts.
EDGAR POE AND HIS CRITICS.--By Mrs. Whitman. do. $1.00
ERIC; OR, LITTLE BY LITTLE.--By F. W. Farrar. do. $1.50
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TACTICS; or, Cupid in Shoulder-Straps. do. $1.50
DEBT AND GRACE.--By Rev. C. F. Hudson. do. $1.75
THE RUSSIAN BALL.--Illustrated satirical poem. do. 50 cts.
THE SNOBLACE BALL.-- do. do. do. do. 50 cts.
TEACH US TO PRAY.--By Dr. Cumming. do. $1.50
AN ANSWER TO HUGH MILLER.--By T. A. Davies. do. $1.50
COSMOGONY.--By Thomas A. Davies. 8vo. cloth, $2.00
TWENTY YEARS around the World. J. Guy Vassar. do. $3.75
THE SLAVE POWER.--By J. E. Cairnes. do. $2.00
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Transcriber's Note
The following errors were corrected:
viii EXPOSE changed to EXPOSÉ
viii BY JOHN BULL changed to BY JOHN BULL.
viii HOMEOPATHIC changed to HOMOEOPATHIC
ix TWO-HUNDRED changed to TWO HUNDRED
ix "ADVANTAGE CARDS." changed to "ADVANTAGE-CARDS."
x DIVINING GOBLINS. changed to DIVINING.--GOBLINS.
x SORCEROR. changed to SORCERER.
x ZUTE changed to ZIITO
x MR. WRIGHT'S SIGEL changed to MR. WRIGHT'S SIGIL
x WHISKERFUSTICUS. changed to WHISKERIFUSTICUS
x RELIGOUS HUMBUGS changed to RELIGIOUS HUMBUGS
x IMPOSTER changed to IMPOSTOR
x A RELIGOUS HUMBUG changed to A RELIGIOUS HUMBUG
25 attractt he changed to attract the
32 Quixotte. changed to Quixote
32 Great Britian changed to Great Britain
37 million of frances changed to million of francs
39 "California Menagrie," changed to "California Menagerie,"
47 THE GOLDEN PIGEONS--GRIZZLY ADAMS--GERMAN CHEMIST--HAPPY
FAMILY--FRENCH NATURALIST. changed to
THE GOLDEN PIGEONS.--GRIZZLY ADAMS.--GERMAN CHEMIST.--HAPPY
FAMILY.--FRENCH NATURALIST.
56 "Golden Australian Pigeons," changed to 'Golden Australian
Pigeons,'"
57 PHELADELPHIA changed to PHILADELPHIA
58 package of Pease's changed to package of "Pease's
60 'pay,' havn't changed to 'pay,' haven't
64 tragic scene.' changed to tragic scene."
65 is now published' changed to is now published.
79 after the trying changed to after the tying
91 Britian changed to Britain
92 dextrously changed to dexterously
110 pretentions changed to pretensions
111 Presidental changed to Presidential
115 invocations, adressed changed to invocations, addressed
115 complete success changed to complete success.
115 in ecstacy changed to in ecstasy
119 Spirtual Photography changed to Spiritual Photography
119 MRS. COANT'S changed to MRS. CONANT'S
119 called the trance. changed to called the trance."
122 occuping changed to occupying
127 professsed changed to professed
136 supervison changed to supervision
141 she was pregnant changed to she was pregnant.
143 guage-faucet changed to gauge-faucet
147 by this expose, changed to by this exposé
156 vermillion changed to vermilion
161 Cliquot changed to Clicquot
170 But you bid changed to "But you bid
173 persverance changed to perseverance
180 $200, changed to $200,"
185 cant changed to can't
189 SUBTERANEAN changed to SUBTERRANEAN
190 prospecters changed to prospectors
194 Napolean changed to Napoleon
195 reaity changed to reality
199 matter of form;" changed to matter of form;
200 as follows: changed to as follows:"
202 impudence then changed to impudence than
210 they prefered changed to they preferred
211 odorifous changed to odoriferous
211 apprized changed to apprised
213 etc. etc., changed to etc., etc.,
213 _Holland_! changed to _Holland_!"
216 April 21st. changed to April 21st,
221 merchandize changed to merchandise
225 Every body changed to Everybody
227 stock--The changed to stock--the
228 all winter changed to All winter
229 coin than than changed to coin than
232 CHAPTER XXVII. changed to CHAPTER XXVIII.
234 Popocatapetl changed to Popocatepetl
237 over to Williamsburgh changed to over to Williamsburg
242 FLORENCE changed to FLORENCE.
245 gullability changed to gullibility?
246 maccaroni changed to macaroni
246 sold almost- changed to sold almost
252 domicil changed to domicile
265 "The suggestion, changed to The suggestion,
269 with faces of changed to "with faces of
271 The "Albany changed to the "Albany
271 "the New York changed to the "New York
274 enclyclopedias changed to encyclopedias
276 Magnficent changed to Magnificent
280 Pensylvania changed to Pennsylvania
281 ridiculing Beecher. changed to ridiculing Beecher."
281 fusilade changed to fusillade
284 THE ACTOR changed to THE ACTOR.
286 sovereigns." changed to sovereigns.'
287 "Now Sir," said he, "I wish changed to "'Now Sir,' said he, 'I wish
287 this house alone." changed to this house alone.'
288 However, before changed to "However, before
291 futhermore changed to furthermore
298 ghost havin changed to ghost having
305 amissable changed to admissible
307 CHAPTER. XXX. changed to CHAPTER XXXVII.
317 Holy Ghost. changed to Holy Ghost."
318 ho, ho! changed to ho, ho!"
320 failed; changed to failed:
322 swarthy and wizzened changed to swarthy and wizened
324 "prime-minister, changed to "prime-minister,"
327 Mr Worrall changed to Mr. Worrall
334 transmigra- changed to transmigration
339 elysium changed to Elysium
339 Antionette changed to Antoinette
341 remarked." I changed to remarked. "I
341 Constantiople changed to Constantinople
342 What message changed to "What message
342 "She does changed to She does
346 from the the Court changed to from the Court
348 evidently had'nt changed to evidently hadn't
351 could'nt seem changed to couldn't seem
354 CHAPTER LXII. changed to CHAPTER XLII.
355 Raisonnée, changed to Raisonnée,"
363 Constantiople changed to Constantinople
367 arms, &c, changed to arms, &c.,
368 hand seveeral changed to hand several
368 no Riza Rey changed to no Riza Bey
375 enthusiams changed to enthusiasms
375 ascetisms changed to asceticisms
381 intepretation changed to interpretation
382 doggrel changed to doggerel
392 HUMBUGS NO. 2 changed to HUMBUGS NO. 2.
393 know!) changed to know!),
398 hard-fisted changed to hard-fisted,
403 other beasts: changed to other beasts;
423 revisted changed to revisited
Ads 3 N.B changed to N.B.
Ads 3 United States changed to United States.
Ads 3 in full changed to in full.
Ads 3 MISERABLES--In changed to MISERABLES.--In
Ads 3 self-culture changed to self-culture.
Ads 4 MARIAN GREY-- do changed to MARIAN GREY.-- do.
Ads 5 RUE changed to TRUE
Ads 5 OW changed to HOW
Ads 5 do changed to do. (line of LOOKING AROUND)
Ads 5 FEMME.) changed to FEMME).
Ads 7 DRIFTING ABOUT, changed to DRIFTING ABOUT.
Ads 8 ABOUT WOMEN changed to ABOUT WOMEN.
Ads 8 HUGH MILLER changed to HUGH MILLER.
The following words had inconsistent spelling and hyphenation:
broom-stick / broomstick
CONJUROR / CONJURER
conjuror / conjurer
conjurors / conjurers
Christoforo / Cristoforo
death-bed / deathbed
etc. / &c.
Ethiopean / Ethiopian
fêted / feted
ghost-like / ghostlike
hand-bill / handbill
hell-broth / hellbroth
hob-goblins / hobgoblins
hodge-podge / hodgepodge
lamp-black / lampblack
log-wood / logwood
M.D. / M. D.
meantime / mean time
mosquitoes / musquitos
New-York / New York
sea-coast / seacoast
sea-shore / seashore
stock-broker / stockbroker
to-day / to day
Twenty-seventh street / Twenty-seventh Street
Wall street / Wall Street
*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Humbugs of the World - An Account of Humbugs, Delusions, Impositions, Quackeries, - Deceits and Deceivers Generally, in All Ages" ***
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