<h3 class="chapterhead"><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></SPAN>CHAPTER XV.</h3>
<p class="hanging">BANNER OF LIGHT.—​MESSAGES FROM THE DEAD.—​SPIRITUAL CIVILITIES.—​SPIRIT
“HOLLERING.”—​HANS VON VLEET, THE FEMALE DUTCHMAN.—​MRS. <SPAN name="corr35" id="corr35"></SPAN>CONANT’S
“CIRCLES.”—​PAINE’S TABLE-TIPPING HUMBUG EXPOSED.</p>
<p>“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 proprie<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_120" id="Page_120"></SPAN></span>tors 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 <SPAN name="corr36" id="corr36"></SPAN>trance.”</p>
<p>I give a few specimens of these “messages.” Thus, for instance,
discourseth the Ghost of Lolley:</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>“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.</p>
<p>“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.</p>
<p>“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.”</p>
</div>
<p>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:</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>“Hi-yah! old grisly. It’s lucky for you I didn’t get in ahead of
you.</p>
<p>“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.”</p>
</div>
<p>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.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_121" id="Page_121"></SPAN></span>Here is what Brother Klink said:</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>“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.</p>
<p>“Good night, afternoon or morning, I don’t know which. I walked out
at Petersburg.”</p>
</div>
<p>Here is a message from George W. Gage, with some of the questions which
he answered:</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>“[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.</p>
<p>“I forgot, Sir; my mother’s deaf, and always had to holler. That
gentleman says folks ain’t deaf here.”</p>
</div>
<p>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<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_122" id="Page_122"></SPAN></span> 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!</p>
<p>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:</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>“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 <SPAN name="corr37" id="corr37"></SPAN>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.</p>
<p>“I vants my vrow, what I left in Harlem, to takes that<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_123" id="Page_123"></SPAN></span> 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.</p>
<p>“(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.”</p>
</div>
<p>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.</p>
<p>At the head of the “Message Department” is a standing advertisement,
which reads as follows:</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>“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.”</p>
</div>
<p>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<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_124" id="Page_124"></SPAN></span> 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.”</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>Time and again have leading spiritualists, in various<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_125" id="Page_125"></SPAN></span> parts of the
country, indorsed as “spiritual manifestations,” what was subsequently
proved to be an imposture.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_126" id="Page_126"></SPAN></span>—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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_127" id="Page_127"></SPAN></span>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 <SPAN name="corr38" id="corr38"></SPAN>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 disembod<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_128" id="Page_128"></SPAN></span>ied 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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_129" id="Page_129"></SPAN></span>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_130" id="Page_130"></SPAN></span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />