Hidden Depths: The Story of Hypnosis (21 page)

The commissioners started with Céline, Foissac's somnambule,
but obtained no worthwhile results. They then tested magnetism on some patients in the hospitals, until the General Council reminded them that magnetism in the Paris hospitals was still forbidden. Starved for suitable subjects on whom to experiment, the inquiry dragged on for another five years, and even after all that time only about a dozen people were tested. None of the commissioners could himself mesmerize, so they had to rely on Foissac and Dupotet, who selected their subjects for their sensational effects. In the end, then, the committee, guided by these two enthusiasts, shifted its focus on to paranormal phenomena rather than therapeutic value, and overlooked Bertrand in favour of fluidism. They assumed that a certain something is passed from operator to subject and therefore looked for proof of this something. They found such proof not only when the operator was in physical contact with his subject, or made close hand passes, but occasionally in telepathic hypnosis as well. The kinds of paranormal and supernormal phenomena which they ratified were feats of abnormal strength, prediction of epileptic fits, diagnosis of oneself and others. The report was favourable to mesmerism. When it was presented to the Academy, some wanted to discuss it, but it was forced through on the credibility of the commissioners. This report is often cited by mesmeric enthusiasts later in the nineteenth century as a vindication of their practice, but it is clearly unsatisfactory in many ways, and is not even representative, in that it ignored the kind of magnetism that was being practised by the likes of Bertrand and Faria.

One case covered in the report was that of Mme Plantin, who in 1829 underwent an operation for breast cancer while anaesthetized in magnetic sleep. The operation, by Jules Cloquet, was apparently successful (although the poor woman died three weeks later of ‘a diseased liver' – perhaps the cancer had spread, since it is clear from the description in the report that it was far advanced), but in a fashion typical of the shambles surrounding this committee, the relatives refused to allow the commissioners to visit Mme Plantin for themselves, so that they had to rely on hearsay. They were present only at her autopsy a few weeks later.

These were the days before chemical anaesthetics had been discovered. You just had to grit your teeth (unless you were undergoing a dental operation, of course) and suffer. Under these
circumstances, you'd think that the benefits of hypnotic anaesthesia would be obvious, and that any medical body worth its salt would investigate the matter. But the French Academy buried its head in the sand. The problem was the old one: the startling nature of the paranormal phenomena and the fanciful nature of many of the theories caused sceptics to concentrate on debunking these rather than focusing on what was important about mesmerism.

Consequently, in 1836 a Dr Hamard decided to bring matters to a head. He anaesthetized a dental patient and got a member of the Academy, Dr M.J. Oudet, to perform the operation. Discussion followed in the Academy, with many making the implausible claim that the whole thing was a fraud. Then another physician, Didier Jules Berna, offered to convince the Academy of certain facts about magnetism, principally somnambulism, insensibility to pain and the action of his unexpressed will on the subject as shown by the loss and restoration of movement or sensation in given limbs. A commission of nine was appointed. They concluded that magnetic somnambulism did not exist, that insensibility to pain was not proven, and that clairvoyance and sympathy between operator and subject were illusory. In a final attempt, Berna tried to induce clairvoyance in a different subject, but he failed. This commission's report to the Academy was, understandably, negative. Some protested that the issues required more than just a few hours' work, on two subjects, but their voices went unheard in the general climate of hostility towards mesmerism. For roughly half a century, in France, animal magnetism was thought to have no therapeutic use, and its practice was entirely given over to showmen, and to exploration of its paranormal and mystical aspects.

For these aspects the Academy of course had no time. And they had good reason for their official disdain. In the wake of the 1837 report, C. Burdin, a member of the Academy, offered a prize of 3,000 francs to anyone, somnambule or not, who could read without using his or her eyes. This was one of the most common clairvoyant tricks of the time. The whole thing turned into a farce. Dr J. Pigeaire from Montpellier wrote to the commission about his daughter's clairvoyant gifts, and came, on their invitation, to Paris. He and his daughter gave public exhibitions, which were all successful, but when the commission insisted on its own blindfold apparatus being used,
Pigeaire withdrew his daughter from the competition. Their public exhibitions continued, however, to public acclaim; even George Sand, the aristocratic but Bohemian novelist, attended and was convinced. Professor P.N. Gerdy decided to investigate Madamoiselle Pigeaire and found – why are we not surprised? – that she could not perform when her blindfold was taped to her face, but could when a little crevice of light remained. Burdin stated his conditions more clearly: if anyone could read with eyes open and in broad daylight through an opaque substance such as silk or paper placed six inches from the face, he or she would claim the prize. Dr Hublier from Provins entered his somnambule, but she was found to be a fraud before ever reaching the commission. When faced with the book she was to read clairvoyantly, she used to plead female indisposition or tiredness or something to get the room clear briefly, and then peek at the book while everyone was out. The use of spy holes was her undoing. A third somnambule of Dr Alphonse Teste also failed in front of the commission, and in the end no one won the prize. At this point the Academy decided that it need no longer concern itself with animal magnetism.

The whole history of the study of paranormal phenomena, whether spontaneous or enhanced by hypnosis, is studded with the same problem. There may well be people – just a few – who possess genuine psychic gifts. They never claim to be able to do whatever it is that they do with unfailing reliability. The appreciation and the proper study of such gifts is spoiled by the fakes and tricksters, who are in it for the money and attention. This puts the whole subject in bad odour not just with the general populace, but with the grant-giving bodies who might finance proper research.

Napoléon Bonaparte, we may safely assume, was a pretty hardheaded kind of fellow. But even Napoléon Bonaparte could succumb to the craze for paranormal mesmerism to the extent of consulting a
somnambulist seer about the prospects for his first campaign in Italy. Just possibly, though, he did so cynically, or to raise morale, because we also hear of him dismissing clairvoyance. He is reported to have told de Puységur: ‘If your somnambulist is so clever, let her predict what I shall be doing in eight days' time and which will be the winning numbers in tomorrow's lottery.'

Interest in paranormal mesmeric phenomena conquered Europe as effectively as Napoléon, and maintained its dominance in the absence of any opposition in the form of scientific research into magnetism. In both France and Germany it was common practice to magnetize a group of patients to find which one was the best somnambulist and then get him or her to diagnose the rest; the names of clairvoyants such as Maria Rübel, Marie Koch, Mattheus Schurr, Calixte Renaux and Prudence Bernard were as well known in their countries as their contemporaries Goethe, Beethoven, Victor Hugo and Alexandre Dumas; the Vatican was flooded with letters from anxious bishops in Catholic countries asking for guidance on the matter. At the end of the eighteenth century, several books on mesmerism had been placed on the Index in Rome, but popular interest in the shows of itinerant magnetizers such as Zanardelli and Rummo, but especially the Belgian Donato (A.E. d'Hont) could not be kept down, either here or in other Italian states, by totalitarian measures such as this. The circumspection of the Vatican, however, meant that the therapeutic potential of mesmerism was the main aspect that was studied in Italy, by people such as Francesco Guidi and Pietro d'Amico, in the 1850s.

In other countries too the showmen and paranormalists did serve the purpose of keeping interest in mesmerism alive. In Holland, for instance, P.G. van Ghert's work with clairvoyance paved the way for later study of the medical applications of animal magnetism. Charles de Lafontaine travelled extensively in Europe in the 1830s and 1840s, lecturing and exhibiting; his work with psychic somnambules in Brussels ushered in the golden age of mesmerism in Belgium, and we will later see the crucial importance of his tour of England to the history of hypnotism.

Many of the stories of paranormal abilities among somnambules are hard to assess at this distance, because we don't know how strict
the controls were on assessing the results. Even so, there is a fascinating mixture of gold and dross. Here are a few snapshots.

Prudence Bernard, one of the most famous somnambules of them all, continued to tour extensively in Europe, and to receive amazed acclaim, despite having been accused of fraud in Paris in the 1840s. She was subsequently investigated by Professor Wartmann of the University of Geneva. In tests she succeeded in moving a compass needle 45 degrees, apparently by sheer telekinetic will power – but then she was found to be wearing a corset whose busk was made of magnetized steel. In 1852 she took her exhibition to London, and then to Manchester, where James Braid saw her. Her main trick at this time was playing cards while blindfolded. Braid challenged her, saying that he was sure she could see through gaps at the bottom of the blindfold. He suggested a more thorough blindfold, but she refused to comply. Prudence's flamboyant mesmerist, Auguste Lassaigne, hardly inspires confidence, since he trained as a stage conjurer before discovering – and marrying – Prudence. He felt he had a sacred mission, to spread the gospel Prudence revealed when hypnotized (for she also acted as a medium) and through her, a modern Joan of Arc, to restore France to the True Faith.

In Germany Dr Franz Nick's somnambule, Miss C. Krämerin, predicted the death of the king of Württemberg on 28 October 1816. The story goes that they tried to keep it secret, fearing official repercussions, but news leaked out and led to the merry sport of court officials placing bets as to whether she had got it right, or which exactly would be the day of death. It turned out to be a couple of days later than predicted.

Dr Johann C. Valentin of Cassel worked with Caroline Ramer, who seems to have had genuine clairvoyant abilities. She saw the fall of a farm worker in Breitenbach bei Hof, four hours' journey from Cassel. They were investigated by a committee which acquitted them both of fraud.

The most famous clairvoyant of them all in Germany was the Seeress of Prevorst, Friederike Hauffe. She was born in 1801 in the remote Swabian village of Prevorst, near Löwenstein. She came to Justinus Kerner (1786–1862) on the point of death through hysterical depression and starvation. Before long, he had discovered that in
magnetic sleep she displayed remarkable gifts – not just telepathy and clairvoyance, but her forte was conversing with the dead, who appeared to her (and occasionally to others around her) as ghostly figures. She predicted the future, healed the sick, spoke in a language that she claimed was the original language of humankind, and ‘channelled' (as we would say now) a whole complex cosmology and theology, which accommodated magnetism. The Seeress aroused immense interest throughout Germany, and her bedside was visited by many cultured and learned men – doctors, philosophers, theologians – who discussed her revelations in all seriousness. Kerner was a notable doctor, the first, for instance, to describe food poisoning by botulism. But there is a dark side to his relationship with her. He was so bound up in his experiments with her that he found ways to keep her in an almost permanent trance for years, and even fed her laurel berries to aid her hallucinations. With hindsight, he probably hastened her death in 1829 – on a day she had accurately predicted.

Visions of ghosts became common among somnambules once the fame of the Prevorst Seeress spread. It was largely a German phenomenon, but in France there was Alphonse Cahagnet with his somnambule Bruno, who had Swedenborgian visions of heaven and angels, and Adèle Maginot, who began as a clairvoyant diagnostician of others' ills, but soon had visions of heaven and conversations with the dead. Even Deleuze, let alone Dupotet, was converted to spiritism in the end.

From Russia stories emerged later in the century of one of the most remarkable mesmeric clairvoyants of them all. Although she was practising and being studied in the 1880s and 1890s, her stories belong here, because Russia was typically thirty or so years behind the rest of Europe. She was a thirty-year-old schoolteacher, known simply as ‘Miss M.', who came to the attention of Dr A.N. Khovrin of Tambov. She was magnetized for her nervous attacks, and in magnetic sleep soon manifested clairvoyance. She was tested in an impressively methodical manner. Once, for instance, nine scientists in St Petersburg each wrote a sentence on a piece of paper. All the pieces of paper were then sealed into envelopes and put into a hat. One envelope was removed without being opened and the rest were burnt. The chosen envelope was put inside another thick envelope and glued to it inside in two places. The flaps of the outer envelope
were glued and stapled down, and closed with a seal surrounded by pinpricks which were visible only under a magnifying glass, and a tiny piece of hair was placed under the seal. The package was sent in a box to Khovrin in Tambov. Miss M. read the text as ‘I'm convinced that you will read my letter easily and without trouble and that afterwards you will feel magnificent. Petersburg, L.G. Korchagin.' Khovrin sent the unopened package back to St Petersburg along with Miss M.'s solution. The Society of Experimental Psychology – the original scientists – verified that the seal had not been tampered with. The envelopes were opened, and the original text compared with Miss M.'s version, which was identical.