The Parisian press was divided on the subject of the Davenports and their advertised séances. Some of the papers protested against such performances on the ground that they were dangerous to the mental health of the public, and, one writer said, “Particularly to those weaker intellects which are always ready enough to accept as gospel the tricks and artifices of the adepts of sham witchcraft.” M. Edmond About, the famous journalist and novelist, in the Opinion Nationale, wrote a scathing denunciation of Spiritism, but all to no purpose, except to inflame public curiosity.
The performances of the Davenports were divided into two parts: (1) The light séance, (2) the dark séance. In the light séance a cabinet, elevated from the stage by three trestles, was used. It was a simple wooden structure with three doors. In the centre door was a lozenge-shaped window covered with a curtain. Upon the sides of the cabinet hung various musical instruments, a guitar, a violin, horns, tambourines, and a big dinner bell.
FIG. 22. THE DAVENPORT BROTHERS IN THEIR CABINET.
A committee chosen by the audience tied the mediums’ hands securely behind their backs, fastened their legs together, and pinioned them to their seats in the cabinet, and to the cross rails with strong ropes. The side doors were closed first, then the center door, but no sooner was the last fastened, than the hands of one of the mediums were thrust through the window in the centre door. In a very short time, at a signal from the mediums, the doors were opened, and the Davenports stepped forth, with the ropes in their hands, every knot untied, confessedly by spirit power. The astonishment of the spectators amounted to awe. On an average it took ten minutes to pinion the Brothers; but a single minute was required for their release. Once more the mediums went into the cabinet, this time with the ropes lying in a coil at their feet. Two minutes elapsed. Hey, presto! the doors were opened, and the Davenports were pronounced by the committee to be securely lashed to their seats. Seals were affixed to the knots in the ropes, and the doors closed as before. Pandemonium reigned. Bells were rung, horns blown, tambourines thumped, violins played, and guitars vigorously twanged. Heavy rappings also were heard on the ceiling, sides and floor of the cabinet, then after a brief but absolute silence, a bare hand and arm emerged from the lozenge window, and rung the big dinner bell. On opening the doors the Brothers were found securely tied as before, and seals intact. An amusing feature of the exhibition occurred when a venturesome spectator volunteered to sit inside of the cabinet between the two mediums. He came out with his coat turned inside out and his hat jammed over his eyes. In the dark séance the cabinet was dispensed with and the spectators, holding hands, formed a ring around the mediums. The lights were put out and similar phenomena took place, with the addition of luminous hands, and musical instruments floating in the air.
Robert-Houdin wrote an interesting brochure on the Davenports, (“Secrets of Stage Conjuring,” translated by Prof. Hoffmann) from which I take the following: “The ropes used by the Davenport Brothers are of a cotton fibre; and they present therefore smooth surfaces, adapted to slip easily one upon another. Gentlemen are summoned from the audience to tie the mediums. Now, tell me, is it an easy task for an amateur to tie a man up off-hand with a rope three yards long, in a very secure way? The amateur is flurried, self-conscious, anxious to acquit himself well of the business, but he is a gentleman, not a brute, and if one of the Brothers sees the ropes getting into a dangerous tangle, he gives a slight groan, as if he were being injured, and the instantaneous impulse of the other man is to loosen the cord a trifle. A fraction of an inch is an invaluable gain in the after-business of loosening the ropes. Sometimes the stiffening of a muscle, the raising of a shoulder, the crooking of a knee, gives all the play required by the Brothers in ridding themselves of their bonds. Their muscles and joints are wonderfully supple, too; the thumbs can be laid flat in the palm of the hand, the hand itself rounded until it is no broader than the wrist, and then it is easy to pull through. Violent wrenches send the ropes up toward the shoulder, vigorous shakings get the legs free; the first hand untied is thrust through the hole in the door of the cabinet, and then returns to give aid to more serious knots on his own or his brother’s person. In tying themselves up the Davenports used the slip-knot, a sort of bow, the ends of which have only to be pulled to be tightened or loosened.”
This slip-knot is a very ingenious affair. (See Fig. 23.) In performing the spirit-tying, the mediums went into the cabinet with the ropes examined by the audience lying coiled at their feet. The doors were closed. They had concealed about their persons ropes in which these trick knots were already adjusted, and with which they very speedily secured themselves, having first secreted the genuine ropes. Then the doors were opened. Seals were affixed to the knots, but this sealing, owing to the position of the hands, and the careful exposition of the knots did not affect the slipping of the ropes sufficiently to prevent the mediums from removing and replacing their hands.
NO. 23. TRICK-TIE IN CABINET WORK.