0210 - Mediums
Eileen Garrett
Stefan ossowiecki
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Par Bertrand Méheust
Pour évaluer l’extraordinaire figure de Swedenborg, il ne faut pas dissocier le savant du visionnaire et du voyant, comme on le fait aujourd’hui.
Né le 29 janvier 1688 à Stockholm, Emanuel Swedberg - plus connu sous le nom de Swedenborg qu’il portera après son ennoblissement - fut un génie universel qui porta sa marque dans plusieurs domaines du savoir. Polyglotte, il maîtrise une dizaine de langues, dont l’hébreu et l’araméen. Physicien, il préfigure l’atomisme et la théorie ondulatoire de la lumière ; astronome, il imagine un modèle de la formation du système solaire ; ingénieur, il dessine une machine propulsée par la vapeur, un engin volant propulsé par hélice, un sous-marin, un nouveau type d’écluse, un fusil à air comprimé... il entreprend également une oeuvre écrite qui couvre aussi bien les sciences que la philosophie. Mais cette activité débordante cohabite chez lui avec une sensibilité mystique qui va s’amplifier au cours des années.
Vers 1736, il est saisi par des états de ravissement spontanés dans lesquels des anges lui apparaissent. Cela ne l’empêche pas de continuer des travaux de géologie, et d’élaborer une théorie de l’esprit dans laquelle il pressent le rôle du cortex. En 1741, il est élu à l’Académie Royale des sciences de Stockholm. En 1743, il a - comme Blaise Pascal un siècle plus tôt - une illumination qui va réorienter sa vie. A partir de cette date, il développe la capacité de communiquer avec le monde des esprits, et conjointement, des dons de voyance.
La seconde vue présente encore chez lui un double sens : elle est d’abord vision du monde spirituel, des hiérarchies angéliques ; mais elle se traduit aussi par la capacité d’obtenir des informations factuelles sur des réalités triviales normalement cachées à nos sens. C’est ainsi que, le 19 juillet 1759, alors qu’il se trouve à Göteborg, il décrit devant un témoin l’incendie qui, au moment même, est en train de ravager Stockholm. Un peu plus tard, devant un autre témoin, il prévoit le jour de sa propre mort. En 1761, consulté par la princesse Louise-Ulrique, il révèle à cette dernière des informations d’ordre privé dont il ne pouvait avoir connaissance. Mais cette capacité de voyance stricto sensu lui est comme donnée de surcroît ; elle n’est pas encore cultivée pour elle même, comme elle le sera un siècle plus tard par le somnambule Alexis Didier, elle n’est pas dissociée de la dimension spirituelle. Comme l’écrit Balzac dans Séraphîta, "l’état de vision dans lequel Swedenborg se mettait à son gré, relativement aux choses de la terre, et qui étonna tous ceux qui l’approchèrent, par des effets merveilleux, n’était qu’une faible application de sa faculté de voir les cieux".
Au milieu du XVIII° siècle, on ne songe pas encore à recueillir méthodiquement les faits de voyance et à enquêter sur les conditions de leur production, comme on commencera à le faire un siècle plus tard. Il n’est donc pas facile de séparer, dans les prodiges attribués à Swedenborg, ce qui relève du fait, et ce qui appartient à la légende. Kant ne s’y trompera pas. Quand il s’en prendra au visionnaire et au voyant suédois, il ne manquera pas d’insinuer la faiblesse de l’attestation. Faut-il pour autant s’en tenir au verdict du philosophe ? Il faudrait entreprendre une réenquête systématique des voyances attribuées à Swedenborg. Ce point est important, car on n’aura jamais assez de travaux bien documentés sur l’exercice de la voyance. Mais ce n’est pas, concernant Swedenborg, le plus important. L’essentiel est le type humain que campe le voyant suédois, à l’orée du monde moderne - une icône qui a eu une immense influence sur la littérature contemporaine, sur Balzac, Cazotte ou Baudelaire. L’essentiel est cette figure où fusionnent, avant de se séparer, la science et la mystique, le visionnaire, le voyant et le savant.
Dans Les rêves d’un visionnaire (Vrin, 1977) Kant s’en prend à Swedenborg, pour démontrer l’impossibilité de l’intuition intellectuelle.
A fois fasciné et horrifié par le visionnaire suédois, il commence par un exposé dogmatique, puis examine avec ironie quelques hauts faits de clairvoyance qui lui sont attribués. Le premier concerne la rencontre avec la princesse Louise-Ulrique, épouse d’ Adolphe-Frédéric, monté sur le trône de Suède en 1751. En 1761, cette dernière fait appeler le visionnaire pour lui demander des informations d’ordre privé, et, selon le témoignage des personnes présentes, est stupéfaite par la réponse qui lui est faite.
Le deuxième cas concerne la veuve d’un noble hollandais, M. de Marteville. Cette dernière se voyait réclamer par un orfèvre une dette impayée de son mari défunt. Persuadée que son époux s’était acquitté de sa dette, elle ne parvenait pas à trouver la quittance. Elle s’en ouvre donc à Swedenborg, le priant de questionner les esprits à ce propos. Quelques jours plus tard, le voyant lui fournit la bonne réponse : le document recherché se trouve dans la cachette secrète d’une certaine armoire. La troisième histoire examinée par Kant est la plus connue : c’est le fameux récit de l’incendie de Stockholm que Swedenborg aurait vu en direct, le 19 juillet 1759, alors qu’il se trouvait à Göteborg.
Ces faits sont très dérangeants et le philosophe a bien conscience des enjeux, puisqu’il s’exclame dans les premières pages de son pamphlet : "quel aveu capital et quelle perspective de conséquences étonnantes, si l’on pouvait présupposer qu’un seul de ces faits soit garanti". (p. 48) L’aveu capital que les visions de Swedenborg obligeraient à concéder, c’est évidemment la possibilité d’une connaissance suprasensible. Accepter de tels faits, cela reviendrait tout simplement pour Kant à renoncer à sa pensée. Il va donc s’attacher à ruiner a priori l’idée d’une communion des esprits par laquelle le visonnaire suédois explique sa clairvoyance.
C’est en effet par le canal des Esprits que Swedenborg pense avoir accès à la connaissance d’événements normalement cachés à ses sens. C’est donc d’abord aux Esprits que Kant s’attaque. Comme les hommes de son temps, il ne distingue pas clairement le visionnaire et le voyant, comme le feraient aujourd’hui les parapsychologues ; aussi, ayant réfuté le premier, il estime avoir rejeté le second, ce qui le dispense de l’enquête approfondie qu’il aurait fallu mener pour vérifier si les faits de voyance attribués au suédois sont ou non vérifiés. Une enquête de ce type étant considérée a priori comme "parfaitement désespérée", il n’y a pas lieu de l’entreprendre et le philosophe peut se contenter de sous-entendre la faiblesse de l’attestation. Les lettres de créance des mandataires de l’autre monde, écrit Kant, sont constituées " par les preuves qu’ils donnent de leur mission extraordinaire dans certaines épreuves soutenues en ce monde ci". Mais ces preuves , à ses yeux, se ramènent à des " on-dit vulgaires". (p. 95) De sorte que, pour nous aujour’hui, qui disjoignons le problème de la connaissance des arrière-mondes et celui de la métagnomie, et qui ne prenons plus au sérieux, après un siècle de sciences psychiques, l’explication par les "on dit", le problème reste entier.
Et l’on se demande avec gourmandise quel parti Kant aurait pris devant des dossiers mieux étayés, celui d’Alexis Didier par exemple, pour ne pas parler de l’ evidence accumulée par les parapsychologues du XX° siècle sur les grands métagnomes. Au final, Kant a été injuste avec Swedenborg ; il a vu le mystique exalté, mais il a totalement ignoré le savant. Mais surtout, il n’ a pas vu que Swedenborg était un sage, un modèle humain, un homme-carrefour, chez lequel cohabitent encore des tendances qui, par la suite vont diverger.
In 1906, Abbott received a letter from Mr. E.A. Parsons, later determined to be a well-known figure in the world of magic operating under the pseudonym Henry Hardin. The letter concerned a Mrs. Elizabeth Blake, described as "an elderly lady in a little town in Ohio" who offered her services as a medium. Despite his wide-ranging knowledge of magicians and the tools of their trade, Parsons was unable to determine how Mrs. Blake had fooled him – if indeed she was not the genuine article.
Mrs. Blake, Parsons recounted, "is the wife of an humble farmer and resides in an obscure country village [the town of Bradrick]. She has resided there all of her life and has reared a large family of children. She has never been over twenty miles from her home and has but little education. She is, however, very intelligent. She gave her sittings for a long time free of charge, and later began charging ten cents. She now charges one dollar, but does not insist on anything."
Her technique was unusual. She had the apparent ability to produce voices inside a sealed container. "She can use a glass lamp chimney or any closed receptacle … and I have heard the voices just as plainly coming out of the sound hole of a guitar that lay upon the table." But her usual mode of communication involved a special trumpet, or horn, that had been constructed for her. It was made of two metal cones attached at the large ends, with saucer-shaped pieces at the small ends.
"The trumpet is empty and can be examined by anyone," Parsons wrote. "The sitter takes one end of this trumpet and places it to his ear, while the lady does the same with the other end, placing it to her ear. At once the sitter plainly hears voices in the trumpet. These purport to be the voices of the spirits of his dead friends and relatives. They reply to any questions which he speaks out loud.… Now this is done in broad daylight, anywhere, even out-of-doors. I investigated this phenomenon seven hours altogether, giving it every possible test, but could obtain no clue to it.… The information which I received from the whispers was correct in every case. I had never seen the lady before, nor had I been in Ohio previously."
Abbott, intrigued, wrote to Mrs. Blake and invited her to visit him. In reply he received a letter from her physician, identified in Abbott's article only as Dr. X—. The doctor told Abbott that his patient had suffered an accident that left her crippled, making it impossible for her to travel. Abbott struck up a correspondence with Dr. X—, who was himself a believer in Mrs. Blake's mediumistic talents. In one sitting, the doctor, speaking to his purported father, asked about the time when the father took him off to college.
"When we walked towards the buildings, what was said to me by some of the students?"
"They yelled 'rat' at you."
"Spell that word," I requested, as I desired no misunderstanding.
"R-a-t," spelled the voice.
This was correct. As a young man, the doctor had attended a military school, where it was a tradition to shout "Rat!" at new arrivals. Still more interested, Abbott decided to investigate in person. Discovering that Prof. James H. Hyslop, Secretary of the American Society for Psychical Research, was also interested, he arranged to meet Hyslop in Ohio. Abbott also arranged, at the last minute, to have his cousin, George W. Clawson, accompany him. He thought it advisable to bring someone totally unknown to Dr. X— and to Mrs. Blake. Clawson traveled under an assumed name.
Abbott and Clawson had their first meeting with Mrs. Blake before Hyslop had arrived. Dr. X— swore that he had never mentioned Abbott's name to his patient, and that she knew of him and Clawson only as two friends from New York. The séance took place in daylight, and although Mrs. Abbott said that her recent illness had deprived her of power and she could "get nothing satisfactory any more," whispery voices did come through the trumpet. Much of the whispering was unintelligible, but there were a few meaningful exchanges. Abbott writes:
Mr. Clawson now took the trumpet. I may remark that although Mr. Clawson's parents, and also a little son who was never named, were dead, his whole heart was set on obtaining a communication from his daughter Georgia, who had recently died ... . This daughter had been very affectionate, and had always called her mother by the pet names of "Muz" and "Muzzie." She also generally called her father "Daddie" in a playful way. She had recently graduated from a school of dramatic art, and while there had become affianced to a young gentleman whose Christian name is "Archimedes." He is usually called "Ark" for short. Mr. Clawson had these facts in mind, intending to use them as a matter of identification.
A voice now addressed Mr. Clawson, saying, "I am your brother."
"Who else is there? Any of my relatives?" asked Mr. Clawson.
"Your mother is here," responded the voice.
"Who else is there?"
"Your baby."
"Let the baby speak and give its name," requested Mr. Clawson.
This was followed by many indistinct words that could not be understood. Finally a name was pronounced that Mr. Clawson understood to be "Edna." He had no child of that name; but in what followed, although his lips addressed the name "Edna," his whole mine addressed his daughter, "Georgia."
"Edna, if you are my daughter, tell me what was your pet name for me?" he asked.
"I called you Daddie," the voice replied.
"What was your pet name for your mother?"
"I called her Muz, and sometimes Muzzie," responded the voice.
As for Abbott, he received what could have been the name Grandma Daily, which was correct, but he wasn't absolutely sure he'd heard it right. He also heard the names Harvey, Dave, and then Dave Harvey, as well as the initials J.A., and possibly the name Asa. All of these names bore some connection to him, but the communications were so faint and indistinct that he couldn't be certain of what he was hearing. Overall, the sitting was intriguing but unsatisfactory.
When Hyslop arrived, the investigators returned to Mrs. Blake's cottage, this time holding a nighttime séance in the dark. Now the phenomena were considerably better.
We sat a very long time, and it seemed that nothing was to occur. Finally a blue light floated over the table between us, and another appeared near the floor close to where Mr. Clawson and Mr. Blake [the medium's husband] were sitting. The trumpet on the table was also lifted up over my head and dropped to the floor by my side.
Finally, the deep-toned voice of a man spoke. It appeared to be about a foot above and behind Mrs. Blake's head. The voice was melodious, soft, low in pitch, and very distinct. This is the voice that is claimed to be that of her dead son, Abe [serving as a control or spirit guide].
The voice said that the medium was too weak to provide good manifestations that evening. Nevertheless, the sitters continued to wait.
In a short time we heard a man's voice of a different tone entirely, which Dr. X— recognized as the voice of his grandfather. These voices were open,– that is, they were in no trumpet and were vocal. The tone of this last voice was that of a very old man, and the conversation was commonplace. Soon a much more robust and powerful man's voice spoke, and said: "James, we will give way to the others."…
I now took the trumpet. That the reader may fully understand what is to follow, I shall state a few facts. My Grandmother Daily, in the latter part of her life, resided in the country in Andrew County, Missouri. There my mother grew up. My grandmother died thirteen years ago. My mother's maiden name was "Sarah Frances Daly." She was always known to all as "Fannie Daily," and where she now resides is known to everyone as "Fannie Abbott." Even Mr. Clawson did not then know her correct Christian name.... She always called my sister "Adie" [short for Ada], and myself "Davey." This was many years ago.
A voice in the trumpet now addressed me, claiming to be that of my grandmother, Mrs. Dailey. [She conveyed her love to Abbott and to his mother and father.]
"You want me to tell my mother and my father that you talked to me?" I repeated, hardly knowing what to say.
"Yes, Davey, and tell Adie, too," replied the voice very plainly.… "Tell Adie, too," the voice again repeated. It certainly seemed incredible that this voice could manifest such intimate knowledge of my family's names, one thousand miles away. I thereupon decided to further test this knowledge.
"Grandma, what relation is Adie to me?" I quickly asked.
"Why, sister Adie, Davie. Tell sister Adie. You know what I mean – tell sister Adie."…
"Grandma, now if this is really you talking to me, you know my mother's first name. Tell it to me," I said.
"Sarah," answered the voice, quick as a flash. It was so quickly answered that the name "Sarah" had not entered my own consciousness at the instant.…
"What do you say it is?" I again asked.
"Sarah," again the voice plainly responded.
[After this, a voice claiming to be that of Abbott's uncle David Patterson came through, calling himself Uncle Dave.]
One remarkable feature of the voice which claimed to be that of my Uncle David, was that it resembled his voice when alive, to an extent sufficient to call to my mind the mental picture of his appearance; and for an instant to give me that inner feeling of his presence that hearing a well-known voice always produces in one. I said nothing of this at the time. I may say that during all of our sittings, no other voice bore any resemblance to the voice of the person to whom it claimed to belong, so far as I was able to detect.
The next day there was another séance at the Blake house. Again Grandma Daily purportedly came through, this time communicating with Mr. Clawson.
"What is the name of Dave's mother?" now asked Mr. Clawson.
"Sarah," answered the voice.
"Yes, but she has another name. What is her other name?" asked Mr. Clawson.
"Daily."
"That is not what I mean. Give me her other name," continued Mr. Clawson.
"Abbott," answered the voice.
"That is not what I mean. She has another name. What do I call her when I speak to her? I call her by some other name. What do I call her?" insisted Mr. Clawson.
"Aunt Fannie. Don't you think I know my own daughter's name, George?" plainly spoke the voice, so that I could understand the words outside [i.e., without pressing an ear to the trumpet].
"I know you do, Grandma, but I wanted to ask you for the sake of proving your identity," continued Mr. Clawson.
"I want Davey to tell his mother and his father that he talked to me, that I am all right, and I don't want him to forget it. Davey, I want you to be good and pray, and meet me over here," continued the voice, speaking plainly so that I could hear outside.
When I used to visit my dear old grandmother many years ago, upon parting with me she would invariably shed tears, and say, "Davey, be good and pray, and meet me in heaven."…
With the exception of the words "over here" in place of the word "heaven," these last words spoken by the voice were the identical words which my grandmother spoke to me the last time I ever heard her voice.
Mrs. Blake switched to her other ear, saying that her arm was tired. She could evidently produce the voices regardless of which side of her head was pressed to the trumpet. At this point, Abbott decided to let it be known that the name Edna, used in the previous séance for Mr. Clawson's daughter, was not correct. Shortly after, a whispered voice told Mr. Clawson, "Daddie, I am here."
"Who are you?" asked Mr. Clawson.
"Georgia," replied the voice.
"Georgia? Georgia, is this really you?" asked Mr. Clawson, with intense emotion and earnestness.
"Yes, Daddie. Didn't you think I knew my own name?" asked the voice.…
"Georgia, what is the name of your sweetheart to whom you were engaged?" now asked Mr. Clawson. [The first reply could not be understood, so Mr. Clawson asked her to spell the name.]
"A-r-c, Ark," responded the voice, spelling out the letters and then pronouncing the name.
"Give me his full name, Georgia," requested Mr. Clawson.
"Archimedes," now responded the voice.
"Will you spell the name for me?"
[This was done, and the spelling was correct. Mr. Clawson asked where Ark was now.]
"He is in New York." This, Mr. Clawson afterwords informed me, was correct.…
Mr. Clawson was sufficiently overcome by the conversation that he had to leave the room. After ward, he was heard to remark, "I feel just as I did the day we buried her; and I have surely talked to my dead daughter this day."
That afternoon the group escorted Mrs. Blake into town where, Abbott tells us, "we conducted the most successful experiment of the end of our entire visit." Mr. Clawson asked Georgia for her middle name, which was correctly given as Chastine, which the voice spelled out correctly. He asked, "Where did you board when you went to school in Wellesley Hills, Massachusetts?"
"With Aunt Burgess," responded the voice.
"Tell me the name of your schoolmate friend," Mr. Clawson asked.
"Nellie Biggs," instantly responded the voice.
"With what friend did you go to school in Kansas City?" asked Mr. Clawson.
"Mary," responded the voice. [All of those answers were correct. The voice was then asked for the name of her mother's mother.]
"Grandma Marcus is here," responded the voice. I will say that Mrs. Marquis had died but recently, and that her grandchildren always pronounced her name is if spelled "Marcus."...
The loudest voice addressed another visitor, who is identified only as "the governor of a state, who happened to be present," but whose name Abbott was not at liberty to give. This voice
first spoke apparently in Mrs. Blake's lap, just as I was placing the trumpet to my ear. The voice was very deep-toned, and reverberated over the large room so loudly that Prof. Hyslop, who had stepped out, our friend's stenographer, and others entered and stood around the walls listening.
Abbott then heard from somebody purporting to be his grandmother, who sent this message to Abbott's still-living father: "Tell him that I am all right, and tell him not to be a 'doubting Thomas'." "Grandma, that I may convince him that it was really you talk to me, tell me his name." "George Alexander Abbott," spoke the voice, instantly and distinctly, so that all could hear.… [This was correct.]
The admonition against being a doubting Thomas was repeated. Dr. X— said, "That is the first time I ever heard that expression used in any of Mrs. Blake's sittings." Abbott notes that both he and his eldest sister clearly remembered their grandmother saying to her father, "Oh, George, don't be a 'doubting Thomas'!" He says they heard this expression many times, but at the time of the sitting it had passed from his memory.
After a few more communications, none of them very significant, the séance ended. This also was the end of Abbott's experiments with Mrs. Blake, although Hyslop stayed on for further sittings. Afterward, Dr. X— contacted Abbott to describe an experiment that he had conducted on his own. He obtained eight identical boxes and packed in each one a different article that had belonged to his late father. The boxes were then mixed and stacked, and his bookkeeper was asked to draw a box at random while the doctor's back was turned. "The object was to select a box the contents of which the doctor would not himself know." The doctor carried the box with him in his coat pocket when he went to the séance. Abbott tells us:
During this time the doctor requested his wife to ask the voice [of the doctor's father] what was in the former's pocket.…
"I am very anxious to have you do this so that I can report it to Prof. Heslop, and if you say so I will take the lid off the box to enable you to see better," spoke the Doctor.
"That is not necessary. I can see the contents as well with the lid on as with it off," responded the voice.
"Well, what is in it?" asked the Doctor.
"My pass I used to travel with," replied the voice. The Doctor's father used to have several annual passes. Some of them he never used, but one he used almost exclusively. Upon examining the box it was found to contain this pass.
Abbott was clearly unsettled by the entire experience, and he does not claim to be able to explain it completely. He does, however, advance certain theories or hypotheses, to which he attaches varying degrees of certainty. How convincing these are is a debatable.
He is quite certain that Mrs. Blake produced the voices herself. He writes:
I am satisfied that the whispered words originate in her throat, and that the vocal voices are produced lower down in the chest. These sounds I believe are conducted from the throat through an abnormal Eustachian canal, to a point close to the tympanic membrane. The office of this membrane is to transmit sound waves; so that once they are there, the sound waves are easily transferred into the outer or auditory canal. How these sounds can be guided into either ear at will, and how the nostrils can prevent their exit, I can only surmise.
In other words, he believes that "these voices came out of the lady's ears." I am no expert in medical science or anatomy, but this strikes me as exceedingly unlikely, especially when we consider that some of the voices were loud enough to be heard from some distance away. Remember that the voice that addressed the unnamed governor in broad daylight, in an office in town (far from Mrs. Blake's home), was said to be loud enough to be heard from an adjacent room. It is not at all clear to me how a voice produced deep in the chest and somehow channeled through the eustachian tube and out through the ear could possibly be that loud, even assuming it is possible to channel vocalizations through the ears in the first place. To be honest, I find this entire theory patently absurd.
Nevertheless, Abbott pronounces himself content with it. It leaves him, however, with the problem of explaining how Mrs. Blake knew so much about him and Mr. Clawson, especially since the latter was traveling incognito. He admits that he has no definite explanation, but suggests that Mrs. Blake might be part of a network of mediums who exchanged information about their clients. Abbott could have been known to the mediumistic community in his capacity as a debunker. Mr. Clawson had visited mediums on prior occasions.
Of course, this assumes that Mrs. Blake, who lived in an isolated village and had little or no known contact with the wider world (she herself said she had never traveled more than two and a half miles from home in her lifetime), was able to obtain such information. It also assumes that the information gathered by such a network was extraordinarily detailed and precise, and that it could be conveyed to her very quickly — presumably between the first and second séances, both held on the same day (since she could not have known Clawson would be there until the first séance, and she gave him good evidence at the second séance). When we consider that Clawson did not give his real name at first, though on a subsequent day he incautiously revealed it, the puzzle of how Mrs. Blake could possibly obtain any information about him only deepens.
Here are some excerpts of Abbott's hypotheses, which he himself does not seem to be very confident in:
That the name "Brother Eddy" was a guess is quite improbable, but of course could be possible; while it would have been a possibility for the name "Grandma Daily" to have been secured in advance.…
In regard to the pet names, "Muz," "Muzzie," and "Daddie," given Mr. Clawson at the first sitting, only the possibility of a misinterpretation of sounds can be suggested. The names given me, "Dave Harvey," "Asa," and my own name, belong to those that could have been secured in advance.…
[At the second sitting] I secured the names "Sarah" and "Ada," together with the correct relationship of the latter. There was no misinterpretation of sounds. These names belong to those that it would have been possible to have secured in advance, but at the time I was so thoroughly convinced that such was not the case, that I was greatly startled.…
"The names "Lizzie" or "Lissie," and "Aunt Fannie," given Mr. Clawson at this sitting, are among those that could have been secured in advance. As to the names "Georgia" and "Archimedes," with the latter's correct location at the time, together with the correct spelling of his name, I can offer nothing satisfactory; for I do not think there was any misinterpretation of sounds.… My grandmother's parting request may be a phrase generally used by the voices….
This last point refers to the words "Be good and pray, and meet me over here," which were almost identical to an expression Abbott's grandmother always used when they parted, and indeed used the very last time he saw her. To chalk this up as a "stock phrase" (Abbott's term) used by cheating mentalists strikes me as pretty desperate.
[In the afternoon sitting on the second day] the names "Chastine," "Aunt Burgess," "Nellie Biggs," "Mary," "Grandma Marcus," my father's correct name, and also my wife's first name, were given. In addition to this was the name "Dody," the request from my father "Not to be a 'doubting Thomas'" and the statement that my wife's mother is alive. Some of these things Mr. Clawson did not know, and a number of them I did not know. We must, however, consider as a possibility that [Mr. Clawson] might have imparted certain information to Mrs. Blake during his fifteen-minute ride [to the office in town]. He assured me that he did not, and he is certainly sincere in his statement.… In case he did so, the matter evidently passed from his memory very quickly, for he was positive that such was not the case.
In other words, the sitting can be explained only if Clawson acted like a complete idiot, blurting out reams of personal information, and then immediately forgot everything he had said, even though it all came up in the séance a short time later.
Abbott concludes that he cannot assert that any fraud was used, at least concerning the information provided, and that he can only suggest possibilities. "I must still leave the case to a certain extent shrouded in mystery."
The book's short postscript is less open to the idea of mystery. Paul Carus tells us that the Blake case is "not so extraordinary as to preclude probabilities which would reduce the mysterious facts to mere stultificaions without even throwing any suspicion upon the honesty of the main actors concerned." In other words, he feels the whole thing is pretty easy to explain, even though the actual investigator and confirmed skeptic, David Abbott, doesn't agree.
Carus concludes with an airy wave of the hand: "…it would not be difficult to point out several explanations which are possible and would dispel the faintest shadow of mystery." Sadly, he does not enlighten us as to what those simple explanations might be.
This article describes séance phenomena – psychokinetic movements, levitation, communication via automatic writing and healing – experienced by a group of American teenage boys during sittings held weekly between 1929 and 1933. Details are drawn from The Spirit Of Dr. Bindelof (2006) by Rosemarie Pilkington, which contains chapters written by two of the group's founding members, Gilbert Roller and Larry Levin.
'Dr Bindelof'
First Sittings
Gilbert Roller, the son of entertainers, experienced a tumultuous childhood full of quarrels and sudden relocations. He grew up with psychical phenomena: his mother had participated in séances and the family library contained books on psychical research. When he was about thirteen, apparent poltergeist activity occurred in the home, starting with hairpins and knobs being thrown, and extending to the destruction of a prized toy and messages written in crayon on the walls in five-foot high letters.
Roller noticed that such things happened more frequently and intensely when he was present. Intrigued, he and his friend Leonard Lauer, a mentally-gifted thirteen-year-old, began to hold mediumistic sittings based on techniques they’d read about in psychical research books and journals. On their second attempt they experienced movements of the table, which were at first erratic and could then be made to happen on command. Each suspected trickery by the other, but these concerns disappeared when the table began gyrating around the room, and they were able to command it to levitate to shoulder height. The table also emitted noises, typically sharp percussive sounds as if someone was rapping on it.
They were now joined by a thirteen-year-old friend, Larry Levin. By 1933 the group had expanded to include Leo Kaiser, Montague Ullman, Howard Frisch, George Kaiser (Leo’s cousin), Tom Loeb and Horace Joseph. The sittings were held on Saturday evenings in Roller’s bedroom. Roller writes:
These regular meetings and our constant striving to see ‘what else’ we could do had a dramatic effect on the development of the phenomena. We became dissatisfied with ‘mere’ levitations and raps as our inquiring minds sought answers to all sorts of questions through ‘communication’ with whatever ‘guiding spirits’ or energies we might be reaching.1
Roller cites a description of the table activity written by Ullman in 1933, while sessions were continuing.
In these experiments ... we used an ordinary bridge table, keeping contact with the table and with each other by means of our hands. The room is usually light enough to permit us to see what takes place. After one or two moments the table would start to move and distinct knockings are heard, seemingly coming from beneath the table. One of the sitters utters commands (it is immaterial who does the talking as long as all the others are thinking along with him), and response is almost instantaneous. The table moves to the one whose name is mentioned.
Ullman goes on to describe how the group first got the table to respond by tilting in any direction they asked it to, and then to elevate to a height of two or more feet. He continues:
We experimented with one or two of us taking our hands away and eventually we were all able to remove our hands, one at a time, from the table and it remained suspended in mid-air for about two seconds before falling to the floor. Thus encouraged, we kept trying until we were able to get the table to rise up to our hands, which we held about two feet above it.
Gilbert Roller
Montague Ullman
Rosemarie Pilkington
First Sittings
Gilbert Roller, the son of entertainers, experienced a tumultuous childhood full of quarrels and sudden relocations. He grew up with psychical phenomena: his mother had participated in séances and the family library contained books on psychical research. When he was about thirteen, apparent poltergeist activity occurred in the home, starting with hairpins and knobs being thrown, and extending to the destruction of a prized toy and messages written in crayon on the walls in five-foot high letters.
Roller noticed that such things happened more frequently and intensely when he was present. Intrigued, he and his friend Leonard Lauer, a mentally-gifted thirteen-year-old, began to hold mediumistic sittings based on techniques they’d read about in psychical research books and journals. On their second attempt they experienced movements of the table, which were at first erratic and could then be made to happen on command. Each suspected trickery by the other, but these concerns disappeared when the table began gyrating around the room, and they were able to command it to levitate to shoulder height. The table also emitted noises, typically sharp percussive sounds as if someone was rapping on it.
They were now joined by a thirteen-year-old friend, Larry Levin. By 1933 the group had expanded to include Leo Kaiser, Montague Ullman, Howard Frisch, George Kaiser (Leo’s cousin), Tom Loeb and Horace Joseph. The sittings were held on Saturday evenings in Roller’s bedroom. Roller writes:
These regular meetings and our constant striving to see ‘what else’ we could do had a dramatic effect on the development of the phenomena. We became dissatisfied with ‘mere’ levitations and raps as our inquiring minds sought answers to all sorts of questions through ‘communication’ with whatever ‘guiding spirits’ or energies we might be reaching.1
Roller cites a description of the table activity written by Ullman in 1933, while sessions were continuing.
In these experiments ... we used an ordinary bridge table, keeping contact with the table and with each other by means of our hands. The room is usually light enough to permit us to see what takes place. After one or two moments the table would start to move and distinct knockings are heard, seemingly coming from beneath the table. One of the sitters utters commands (it is immaterial who does the talking as long as all the others are thinking along with him), and response is almost instantaneous. The table moves to the one whose name is mentioned.
Ullman goes on to describe how the group first got the table to respond by tilting in any direction they asked it to, and then to elevate to a height of two or more feet. He continues:
We experimented with one or two of us taking our hands away and eventually we were all able to remove our hands, one at a time, from the table and it remained suspended in mid-air for about two seconds before falling to the floor. Thus encouraged, we kept trying until we were able to get the table to rise up to our hands, which we held about two feet above it.
Experiments with Images
The group were concerned to discover the nature of the ‘force’ they were seeing, and experimented to see if it would respond to questions, two raps for ‘no’ and one for ‘yes’, or by words, with letters of the alphabet being called out and a single rap indicating the correct one. A frequently heard sound was a drum-roll culminating in a single loud rap, which apparently served to call attention or to punctuate some particularly spectacular incident; the group came to regard this as the signature sound of the intelligence. All their attempts to reproduce it failed.
Roller states: ‘Our restlessness and curiosity led us to adopt a pattern of attempting to develop each type of phenomenon to its highest pitch and then to turn to another phase of investigation.2
At an early stage they obtained distinct photographic images of objects by laying them on the outside of light-proof metal containers within which were emulsion-covered glass plates. A rap would indicate when the plate was ready to develop. Besides the anomaly of images appearing without direct exposure, these proved to be positives rather than negatives, ‘as though some radiation had penetrated from above the mental holders casting a “shadow” of the object onto the plate.’3
The group then experimented with ‘thought pictures’ by having one member hold the plate to his head while the whole group visualized an object. This produced some near-misses; for instance, vizualising a milk bottle created the image of an iodine bottle, while thoughts of a page from a book, selected by Roller’s mother and seen only by her, produced a page of print, although with illegible text. Other efforts were less successful. An attempt to produce an image of one member’s girlfriend, whom only he had seen, produced the image of a Native American amulet that belonged to Roller, possibly because Roller’s thoughts had wandered to Native Americans during the session.
Written Communications
Having ascertained by means of raps that the ‘force’ could write messages, the youths placed pencil and paper on the table and sat as usual. After some false starts, the pencil began racing across the paper at a furious speed, then the paper crumpled into a ball. When they opened it they found a long message in block capitals, starting with this passage:
THE FORCE IS GENERATED BY THE COMBINED EFFORTS OF THE SITTERS OPERATING IN UNISON. THE PRODUCTION OF THIS FORCE BY THE SITTERS SETS INTO ACTION THE OTHERWISE DORMANT ENERGY PRESENT IN THE SURROUNDING ATMOSPHERE.4
The invisible writer went on to give instructions for inducing ‘materialization’, to satisfy their curiosity about reports of ‘ectoplasmic’ limbs produced by certain mediums since the nineteenth century. Soon they felt an unseen hand tug at their clothes and lightly pull their hair; to preclude the possibility of trickery by any member of the group, they formed a human chain by holding hands and touching feet. Roller, declaring his intention to grab the hand when it touched him, received a sharp slap across the face. The writer told them it had an identity:
IN THE LOWER FORMS OF PHENOMENA SUCH AS TABLE MOVEMENTS, NO ONE IDENTITY EXISTS, BUT MERELY AN EXERTION OF FORCE BROUGHT INTO PLAY BY THE SITTERS. IN THE HIGHER MANIFESTATIONS SUCH AS YOU ARE OBTAINING THE FORCE MOULDS ITSELF INTO AN IDENTITY WITH DEFINITE INTELLIGENCE.5
During a sitting in September 1933, the entity ordered the group not to question its status as an independent intelligence. It also claimed to be able to cure certain diseases. About this time, psychokinetic phenomena began happening outside the sittings: in one incident, Levin’s watch crystals cracked and his collar pins disappeared. At the same session, ‘healing’ was performed on the eyes of two group members, who felt their eyeballs being gently manipulated though they had not removed their glasses.
The group’s focus turned more from levitation and materialization to requests for advice on personal problems and larger questions. Members also began keeping formal records, recording exact dates, times, sitters present, room temperature and humidity. The intelligence gave illustrated instructions for a device that would allow it to speak, and the group eventually tried two devices, although with only slight success.
Healing
The writer eventually introduced himself as ‘Dr Bindelof’, writing:
DURING MY PHYSICAL LIFE I WAS A DOCTOR. I LOVED MY WORK AS A MOTHER ADORES ITS CHILD. I DREAMT OF NOTHING DAY AND NIGHT BUT CURING THE ILLS OF HUMANITY …
NOW I HAVE AT MY PERFECT CONTROL THIS TREMENDOUS FORCE WITH ITS BOUNDLESS HEALING POWERS …
YOU HAVE A PANACEA. LET US PERFECT IT AND GIVE IT TO THE WORLD. YOUR RESULTS WILL LEAVE NO ROOM FOR DISPUTE. WILL YOU BE THE DISCIPLES OF A DEAD MAN?
In November 1933, Bindelof relieved the pain in Levin’s abscessed tooth during a session. Levin felt pressure underneath the tooth, then relief; he also received a scolding from the doctor to eat more green vegetables for calcium and to visit the dentist.
Attempts at healing now became a regular occurrence during the Saturday sittings, and these often brought relief. Among those who benefitted were Lauer’s mother, Joseph’s mother, George Kaiser, Leo Kaiser, Howard Frisch and Roller’s aunt Ellie. Each reported feeling touches of some sort, and then often a playful pat as the treatment ended.
Ellie described her experience as follows:
I suddenly felt a finger exploring the outside of my cheek. It did not feel the same as a human finger. Then I could feel it begin to go through my cheek, inside my mouth and touch the offending tooth. The pain stopped.6
Howard Frisch felt hands coming from behind him, massaging his eyes and head, when he was sitting 'in such a way that at the time it would have been impossible for anyone ... to approach me from behind'.7
More Photographic Images
Using precise instructions from Bindelof, the group used a camera and film to capture three images. The photo of the ‘common force’ appeared to be lines and irregular blotches superimposed on the scene in the room. ‘Outside entities’ appeared as strange forms looking like soldiers carrying weapons, and Roller later theorized this image had come from his mind. A somewhat blurry portrait of Bindelof shows a stern-faced, bearded gentleman in Victorian-style dress.
Problems and Dissolution
Larry Levin describes an incident in which six members of the group sneaked into a Manhattan cemetery and entered a mausoleum. Shortly they began to hear and then feel stones being thrown at them from the walls and ceiling. They quickly fled. At the next session they were scolded by Bindelof, who wrote
I BEG OF YOU BOYS NEVER TO DO WHAT YOU DID IN THAT TOMB AGAIN. BELIEVE ME I HAD DIFFICULTY IN AIDING YOU THEN.8
At this time Bindelof also expressed disillusion with the idea of carrying out healing through the group, complaining of a new lack of harmony and of ‘inconstancy’ on the part of the sitters.
Another personality appeared, a Dr Rinchner, announcing his presence with five knocks rather than Bindelof’s trademark staccato, and writing in ordinary script rather than block capitals. A third personality calling itself only ‘Bad’ eventually appeared, writing in primitive English.
The admission of new members changed the dynamics of the group, which was further disrupted by a romantic rivalry. It broke up when Dr Bindelof ceased to manifest altogether and the phenomena seemed to lose their power. The group briefly reformed in March 1934 but was unable to repeat past successes.
Attitudes
The youths, who were for the most part fairly scientific-minded, often suspected each other of creating the phenomena and controlled against fraud by making sure all feet and hands were in contact with those of others. They analyzed their experiences for plausibility, retained good records and kept all recorded manifestations, such as the photo plates and pages on which writing had appeared (now held by the Parapsychology Foundation in New York). Most were sceptical that it was created by the spirit of a deceased former doctor; the main exception was Larry Levin, who though Bindelof was what he claimed to be.
Roller believes that his psychokinetic ability was key in the Bindelof phenomena. He writes: ‘I don’t think there is any doubt that I had been the source of the major occurrences in or out of the séance room, although I don’t think I could have done it without the abundant energy of the others, especially, Larry and Lenny’.9 Pilkington notes that Roller was never comfortable considering himself the group’s medium.
Roller noted that his own case might have contributed to the theory that poltergeist activity is related to psychic energies that are active during puberty, as it had begun manifesting around him at that age. He cites the psychical researcher Hereward Carrington writing in 1930: ‘An energy seems to be radiated from the body ... when the sexual energies are blossoming into maturity ... It would almost seem as if these energies instead of taking the normal course ... find this curious means of externalization’.10
Later Life
Pilkington writes that the Bindelof phenomena altered the lives and perceptions of everyone who witnessed them. Montague Ullman became a psychiatrist and parapsychologist, founding the Dream Laboratory at Maimonides Hospital in New York, where he carried out important work on telepathy and dreams in the 1960s and 1970s.
According to Levin, several members of the group apart from Roller gathered in 1946 to attempt sittings, at first with little or no results. Roller was eventually persuaded to rejoin them, and with the addition of George Kaiser, six Bindelof alumni were able to achieve table movement, levitation and a message spelled out by the table tipping as they called out the alphabet, though the message was incomprehensible. Roller alone was able to bring about these phenomena in sittings with other groups, and he reported that strange psychokinetic events continued to follow him in his regular life.
The group members were mostly successful in adult life, several entering the business world. Roller followed a career as an artist, writer, filmmaker and TV producer, dying aged 89 in 2004.
A video presentation by Gilbert Roller and Montague Ullman can be seen here.
Montague Ullman's detailed account of the phenomena can be read starting here.
KM Wehrstein
Source
Pilkington, R (2006). The Spirit Of Dr. Bindelof: The Enigma Of Séance Phenomena. San Antonio, Texas, USA, New York: Anomalist Books.
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Daniel Home: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daniel_Dunglas_Home
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Resources:
Psychics by nationality: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Category:Psychics_by_nationality
History and Philosophy of Scientific Research on Spirituality: https://carlossalvarado.wordpress.com/category/digital-resources/
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