If thou hast any sound, or use of voice,
Speak to me.”—SHAKESPEARE: Hamlet.
I.
The French Revolution drew crowds of adventurers to Paris, their brains buzzing with the wildest schemes—political, social, and scientific—which they endeavored to exploit. Among the inventors was a Belgian optician, Etienne-Gaspard Robertson, born at Liège, in 1763, where for many years he had been a professor of physics. He addressed a memorial in the year 1794 to the Government proposing to construct gigantic burning glasses à la Archimedes, to set fire to the English fleets, at that period blockading the French seaports. A commission composed of Monge, Lefevre, Gineau and Guyton de Morveau was appointed to investigate the matter, but nothing came of it.
Failing to accomplish his scheme, Robertson turned his attention to other methods of money-making. Four years passed away. Having a decided penchant for magic illusions, etc., he set about constructing a ghost-making apparatus. The “Red Terror” was a thing of the past, and people had begun to pluck up courage and seek amusements. Rid to a great extent, of his rival, La Guillotine—the most famous of “ghost-making machines”—Robertson set up his phantasmagoria at the Pavilion de l’Echiquier, and flooded the city with circulars describing his exhibition. Poultier, a journalist and one of the Representatives of the People, wrote an amusing account of the entertainment in the L’Ami des Lois, 1798.[17] He says: {88}
ROBERTSON’S GHOST SHOW.
“A decemvir of the Republic has said that the dead return no more, but go to Robertson’s exhibition and you will soon be convinced of the contrary, for you will see the dead returning to life in crowds. Robertson calls forth phantoms, and commands legions of spectres. In a well-lighted apartment in the Pavilion l’Echiquier I found myself seated a few evenings since, with sixty or seventy people. At seven o’clock a pale, thin man entered the room where we were sitting, and having extinguished the candles he said: ‘Citizens, I am not one of those adventurers and impudent swindlers who promise more than they can perform. I have assured the public in the Journal de Paris that I can bring the dead to life, and I shall do so. Those of the company who desire to see the apparitions of those who were dear to them, but who have passed away from this life by sickness or otherwise, have only to speak; and I shall obey their commands.’ There was a moment’s silence, and a haggard-looking man, with dishevelled hair and sorrowful eyes, rose in the midst of the assemblage and exclaimed, ‘As I have been unable in an official journal to re-establish the worship of Marat, I should at least be glad to see his shadow.’ Robertson immediately threw upon {89} a brazier containing lighted coals, two glasses of blood, a bottle of vitriol, a few drops of aquafortis, and two numbers of the Journal des Hommes Libres, and there instantly appeared in the midst of the smoke caused by the burning of these substances, a hideous livid phantom armed with a dagger and wearing a red cap of liberty. The man at whose wish the phantom had been evoked seemed to recognize Marat, and rushed forward to embrace the vision, but the ghost made a frightful grimace and disappeared. A young man next asked to see the phantom of a young lady whom he had tenderly loved, and whose portrait he {90} showed to the worker of all these marvels. Robertson threw upon the brazier a few sparrow’s feathers, a grain or two of phosphorus, and a dozen butterflies. A beautiful woman with her bosom uncovered and her hair floating about her, soon appeared, and smiled on the young man with most tender regard and sorrow. A grave looking individual sitting close by me suddenly exclaimed, ‘Heavens! it’s my wife come to life again,’ and he rushed from the room, apparently fearing that what he saw was not a phantom.”
ROBERTSON’S ILLUSION ON A SMALL SCALE.