"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.

"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."

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:

"Hi-yah! old grisly. It's lucky for you I didn't get in ahead of you.

"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."

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.

Here is what Brother Klink said:

"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.

"Good night, afternoon or morning, I don't know which. I walked out at Petersburg."

Here is a message from George W. Gage, with some of the questions which he answered:

"[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.

"I forgot, Sir; my mother's deaf, and always had to holler. That gentleman says folks ain't deaf here."

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 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!

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:

"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 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.

"I vants my vrow, what I left in Harlem, to takes that 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.

"(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."

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.

At the head of the "Message Department" is a standing advertisement, which reads as follows:

"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."

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 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."

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.

Time and again have leading spiritualists, in various parts of the country, indorsed as "spiritual manifestations," what was subsequently proved to be an imposture.

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 seances 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.

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.

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—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 seances, 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 seance was concluded, Mr. Paine freely permitted an examination of his table.

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.

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 debut as a medium in New York, very skeptical with regard to "physical manifestations." They had, a short time before, detected the Davenports and other 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 seances, 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 seance. 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 disembodied 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.

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.

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.

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.

For appearance' sake, Paine, before his detection, visited, by invitation, the houses of several different spiritualists, for the purpose of holding seances; but he never got a table to move "without contact" in any other than the place where he had properly prepared the conditions.



CHAPTER XVI.

SPIRITUALIST HUMBUGS WAKING UP.—FOSTER HEARD FROM.—S. B. BRITTAN HEARD FROM.—THE BOSTON ARTISTS AND THEIR SPIRITUAL PORTRAITS.—THE WASHINGTON MEDIUM AND HIS SPIRITUAL HANDS.—THE DAVENPORT BROTHERS AND THE SEA-CAPTAIN'S WHEAT-FLOUR.—THE DAVENPORT BROTHERS ROUGHLY SHOWN UP BY JOHN BULL.—HOW A SHINGLE "STUMPED" THE SPIRITS.

I hear from spiritualists sometimes. These gentry are much exercised in their minds by my letters about them, and some of them fly out at me very much as bumble-bees do at one who stirs up their nest. For instance, I received, not long ago, from my good friends, Messrs. Cauldwell & Whitney, an anonymous letter to them, dated at Washington, and suggesting that if I would attend what the latter calls "a seance of that celebrated humbug, Foster," I should see something that I could not explain. Now, this anonymous letter, as I know by a spiritual communication, (or otherwise,) is in a handwriting very wonderfully like that of Mr. Foster himself. And as for the substance of it, it is very likely that Foster has now gotten up some new tricks. He needs them. The exhibiting mediums must, of course, contrive new tricks as fast as Dr. Von Vleck and men like him show up their old ones. It is the universal method of all sorts of impostors to adopt new means of fooling people when their old ones are exposed. And Mr. Foster shall have all the attention he wants if I ever find the leisure to bestow on him, though my time is fully occupied with worthier objects.

I have also been complimented with a buzz and an attempt to sting from my old friend S. B. Brittan, the ex-Universalist minister—the very surprisingly efficient "man Friday" of Andrew Jackson Davis, in the production of the "Revelations" of the said Davis, and also ghost-fancier in general; who has gently aired part of his vocabulary in a communication to the "Banner of Light," with the heading "Exposed for Two Shillings." I can afford very well to expose friend Brittan and his spiritualist humbugs for two shillings. The honester the cheaper. It evidently vexes the spiritualists to have their ghosts put with the monkeys in the Museum. They can't help it, though; and it is my deliberate opinion that the monkeys are much the most respectable. I have no wish to displease any honest person; but the more the spiritualists squirm, and snarl, and scold, and call names, the more they show that I am hurting them. Or—does my friend Brittan himself want an engagement at the Museum? Will he produce some "manifestations" there, and get that $500?—the money is ready!

A valued friend of mine has furnished me a pleasant and true narrative of a fine "spiritual" humbug which took place in a respectable Massachusetts village not very long ago. I give the story in his own graphic words:

"Two artists of Boston, tired of the atmosphere of their studios, resolved themselves, in joint session, into spiritual mediums, as a means of raising the wind—or the devil—and of getting a little fresh air in the rural districts. One of them had learned Mansfield's trick of answering communications and that of writing on the arms. They had large handbills printed, announcing that "Mr. W. Howard, the celebrated test-medium, would visit the town of ——, and would remain at the —— Hotel during three days." One of the artists preceded the other by a few hours, engaged rooms, and attended to sundry preliminaries. "Mr. Howard" donned a white choker, put his hair behind his ears, and mounted a pair of plain glass spectacles; and such was his profoundly spiritual appearance on entering his apartments at the hotel, that he had to lock the door and give his partner opportunity to explode, and absolutely roll about on the floor with laughter.

"Well, they rigged a clothes-horse for a screen; and to heighten the effect, the assistant, who was expert in portraiture, covered this screen, and, indeed, the walls of the room, with scraggy outlines of the human countenance upon large sheets of paper. These, they said, were executed by the draftsman, whose right hand, when under spiritual influence, uncontrollably jerked off these likenesses. They added, that the spirits had given information that, before the mediums left town, the people would recognize these pictures as likenesses of persons there deceased within twenty years or so. Price, two dollars each! They absolutely sold quite a large number of these portraits, as they were from time to time recognized by surviving friends! The operation of drawing portraits was also illustrated at certain hours, admission, fifty cents; if not satisfactory, the money returned.

"Other tricks of various kinds were performed with pleasure to all parties and profit to the performers. The artists stood it as long as they could, and then departed. But there was every indication that the towns-people would have stood it until this day."

Thus far my friend's curious and truthful account.

A little while ago, there was exhibiting, at Washington, a "test-medium" whose name I would print, were it not that I do not want to advertise him. One of his most impressive feats was, to cause spiritual hands and other parts of the human frame to appear in the air a la Davenport Brothers. A gentleman, whose name I also know very well indeed, but have particular reasons for not mentioning, went one day to see this "test-medium," along with a friend, and asked to see a hand. "Certainly," the medium said; and the room was darkened, and the "circle" made round the table in the usual manner. After about five minutes, my friend, who had contrived to place himself pretty near the medium, saw, sure enough, a dim glimmering blue light in the air, a foot or so before and above the head of the medium. In a minute, he could see, dimly outlined in this blue light, the form of a hand, back toward him, fingers together, and no thumb.

"Why is no thumb visible?" asked my friend of the medium in a solemn manner.

"The reason is," said the medium, still more solemnly, "that the spirits have not power enough to produce a whole hand and so they exhibit as much as they can."

"And do they always show hands without thumbs?"

"Yes."

Here my friend, with a sudden jump, grabbed for the place where the wrist of the mysterious hand ought to be. Strange to relate, he caught it, and held it stoutly, to. A light was quickly had, when, still stranger, the spirit-hand was clearly seen to be the fleshy paw of the medium—and a fat paw it was too. Mr. Medium took the matter with the coolness of a thorough rascal, and, lighting a cigar, merely observed:

"Well gentlemen, you needn't trouble yourselves to come here any more!"

He also insisted on his usual fee of five dollars, until threatened with a prosecution for swindling.

The secret of this worthy gentleman is simple and soon told. Holding one hand up in the air, he held up with the other, between the thumb and finger, a little pinch of phosphorus and bi-sulphide of carbon, which gave the blue light. If inconvenient to hold up the other hand, he had a reserve pinch of blue-light under that invisible thumb. It is a curious instance of the thorough credulity of genuine spiritualists that a believer in this wretched rogue, on being circumstantially told this whole story, not only steadily and firmly refused to credit it, and continued his faith in the fellow, but absolutely would not go to see the application of any other test. That's the sort of follower that is worth having!

Another case was witnessed as follows, by the very same person on whose authority I give the spirit-hand story. He was present—also, this time in Washington, as it happened, at an exhibition by a certain pair of spiritual brothers, since well known as the "Davenport Brothers."

These chaps, after the fashion of their kind, caused themselves to be tied up in a rope, an old sea-captain tying them. This done, their "shop" or cabinet, was shut upon them as usual, and the bangs, throwing of sticks, etc., through a window, and the like, took place. Well, this sly and inconvenient old sea-captain now slipped out of the hall a few minutes, and came back with some wheat flour. Having tied up the "brothers" again, he remarked:

"Now, gentlemen, please to take, each, your two hands full of wheat flour."

The "brothers" got mad and flatly refused. Then they cooled down and argued, saying it wouldn't make any difference, and was of no use.

"Well," said the ancient mariner, "if it won't make any difference you can just as well do it, can't you?"

The audience, seeing the point, were so evidently pleased with the old sailor, that the grumbling "brothers" though with a very bad grace, took their fists full of flour, and were shut up.

There was not the least sign of a "manifestation"—no more than if the wheat-flour had shot the "brothers" dead in their tracks. The audience were immensely delighted. The "brothers," since that time, have learned to perform some tricks with flour in their fists, but only when tied by their own friends.

Since these facts came to my knowledge, the Davenport Brothers have suffered an unpleasant exposure in Liverpool, in England, the details of which have been kindly forwarded to me by attentive friends there. The circumstances in question occurred on the evenings of Tuesday and Wednesday, February 14 and 15, 1865. On the first of these evenings, a gentleman named Cummins, selected by the audience as one of the Tying Committee, tied one of the Brothers, and a Mr. Hulley, the other committee-man, the other. But the Brothers saw instantly that they could not wriggle out of these knots. They, therefore, refused to let the tying be finished, saying that it was "brutal" although a surgeon present said it was not; one tied brother was untied by Ferguson, the agent; and then the Brothers went to work and performed their various tricks without the supervision of any committee, but amid a constant fire of derision, laughter, groans, shouts, and epithets from the audience. On the next evening, the audience insisted on having the same committee; the Brothers were very reluctant to allow it, but had to do so after a long time. Ira Davenport refused again, however, instantly to be tied, as soon as he saw what knot Mr. Cummins was going to use. Cummins, however, though Ira squirmed most industriously, got him tied fast, and then Ira called to Ferguson to cut the knot! Ferguson did so, and cut Ira's hand. Ira now shewed the blood to the audience, and the Brothers, with an immense pretense of indignation, went off the stage. Cummins at once explained; the audience became disgusted, and, enraged at the impudence of the imposture, broke over the foot-lights, knocked Ferguson backward into the "cabinet;" and when the discomfited agent had scrambled out and run away, smashed the thing fairly into kindling-wood, and carried it off, all distributed into splinters and chips. Early next morning, the terrified Davenports ran away out of Liverpool; and a number of the audience were, at last accounts, intending to go to law to get back the money paid for an exhibition which they did not see.

The very thorough exposure of the Davenports thus made is an additional proof—if such were needed—of the truth of what I have alleged about the impostures perpetrated by them and their "mysterious" brethren of the exhibiting sort.

Once the "spirits" were "stumped" with a shingle—a very proper yankee jaw-bone of an ass to route such disembodied Philistines. One day a certain person was present where some tables were rambling about, and other revolutions taking place in the furniture-business, when he stepped boldly forth like a herald bearing defiance, and cast down a common white pine shingle upon the floor. "There," said he, coolly, "if you can trot those tables about in that style, do it with that shingle. Make it go about the room. Make it move an inch!" And lo, and behold! the shingle lay perfectly still.



CHAPTER XVII.

THE DAVENPORT BROTHERS SHOWN UP ONCE MORE.—DR. NEWTON AT CHICAGO.—THE SPIRITUALIST BOGUS BABY.—A LADY BRINGS FORTH A MOTIVE FORCE.—"GUM" ARABIC.—SPIRITUALIST HEBREW.—THE ALLEN BOY.—DR. RANDALL.—PORTLAND EVENING COURIER.—THE FOOLS NOT ALL DEAD YET.

Other "spiritual" facts have come to my hand, some of them furnishing additional details about persons to whom I have already alluded, and others being important to illustrate some general tendencies of spiritualism.

And first, about the Davenport Brothers; they have met with another "awful exposure," at the hands of a merciless Mr. Addison. This gentleman is a London stockbroker, and his cool, sharp business habits seem to have stood him in good stead in taking some fun out of the fools who follow the Davenports. Mr. Addison, it seems, went to work, and, just to amuse his friends, executed all the Davenport tricks. Upon this the spiritualist newspapers in England, which, like the Boston Herald of Progress, claim to believe in the "Brothers," came out and said that Addison was a very wonderful medium indeed. On this the cold-blooded Addison at once printed a letter, in which he not only said he had done all their tricks without spiritual aid, but he moreover explained exactly how he caught the Davenports in their impositions. He and a long-legged friend went to one of the "dark seances" of the Davenports, during which musical instruments were to fly about over the heads of the audience, bang their pates, thrum, twang, etc. Addison and his friend took a front seat; as soon as the lights were put out they put out their legs too; stretching as far as possible; and, to use the unfeeling language of Mr. Addison, they "soon had the satisfaction of feeling some one falling over them." They then caught hold of an arm, from which a guitar was forthwith let drop on the floor. In order to be certain who the guitar-carrier was, they waited until the next time the lights were put out, took each a mouthful of dry flour, and blew it out right among the "manifestations." When the lamps were lighted, lo and behold! there was Fay, the agent and manager of the Davenports, with his back all powdered with flour. Addison showed this to an acquaintance, who said, "Yes, he saw the flour; but he could not understand what made Addison and his friend laugh so excessively at it."

The spiritualist newspapers don't think Addison is so great a medium as they did!

Great accounts have recently come eastward from Chicago, of a certain Doctor Newton, who is said to be working miracles by the hundred in the way of healing diseases. This man operates with exactly the weapons all the miracle-workers, quacks, and impostors, ancient and modern use. All of them have appealed to the imaginations of their patients, and no person acquainted with mental philosophy is ignorant that many a sick man has been cured either by medicine and imagination together, or by imagination alone. Therefore, even if this Newton should really be the cause of the recovery of some persons from their ailments, it would be no more a miracle than if Dr. Mott should do it; nor would Newton be any the less a quack and a humbug.

Newton has operated at the East already. He had a career at New Haven and Hartford, and in other places, before he steered westward in the wake of the "Star of Empire." What he does is simply to ask what is the matter, and where it hurts. Then he sticks his thumb into the seat of the difficulty, or he pokes or strokes or pats it, as the case may be. Then he says, "There—you're cured! God bless you!—Take yourself off!"

Chicago must be a credulous place, for we are informed of immense crowds besieging this man, and undergoing his manipulations. One of the Chicago papers, having little faith and a good deal of fun—which in such cases is much better—published some burlesque stories and certificates about "Doctor" Newton, some of them humorous enough. There is a certificate from a woman with fourteen children, all having the measles at once. She says that no sooner had Doctor Newton received one lock of hair of one of them, than the measles left them all, and she now has said measles corked up in a bottle! Another case was that of a merchant who had lost his strength, but went and was stroked by Newton, and the very next day was able to lift a note in bank, which had before been altogether too heavy for him. There was also an old lady, whose story I fear was imitated from Hood's funny conceit of the deaf woman who bought an ear-trumpet, which was so effective that

——"The very next day She heard from her husband in Botany Bay!"

The Chicago old lady in like manner, after having had Doctor Newton's thumbs "jobbed" into her ears, certifies that she heard next morning from her son in California.

One would think that this ridicule would put the learned Dr. Newton to flight; but it will not until he is through with the fools.

I have already given an account of some of the messages from the other world in the "Banner of Light," in which some of the spirits explain that they have turned into women since they died. This is by no means the first remarkable trick that the spirits have performed upon the human organization. Here is what they did at High Rock, in Massachusetts, a number of years ago. It beats Joanna Southcott in funny absurdity, if not in blasphemy.

At High Rock, in the year 1854 or thereabouts, certain spiritualist people were building some mysterious machinery. While this was in process of erection, a female medium, of considerable eminence in those parts, was informed by certain spirits, with great solemnity and pomp, that "she would become the Mary of a new dispensation;" that is, she was going to be a mother. Well, this was all proper, no doubt, and the lady herself—so say the spiritualist accounts—had for some time experienced indications that she was pregnant. These indications continued, and became increasingly obvious, and also, it was observed, a little queer in some particulars.

After a while, one Spear—a "Reverend Mr. Spear"—who was mixed up, it appears, with the machinery-part of the business, and who was a medium himself, transmitted to the lady a request from the spirits that she would visit said Spear at High Rock on a certain day. She did so, of course; and while there was unexpectedly taken with the pains of childbirth, which the spiritualist authorities say, were "internal"—where should they be, pray?—and "of the spirit rather than of the physical nature; but were, nevertheless, quite as uncontrollable as those of the latter, and not less severe." The labor proceeded. It lasted two hours. As it went on, lo and behold! one part and another part of the machinery began to move! And when, at the end of the two hours, the parturition was safely over, all the machinery was going!

The lady had given birth to a Motive Force. Does anybody suppose I am manufacturing this story? Not a bit of it. It is all told at length in a book published by a spiritualist; and probably a good many of my readers will remember about it.

Well, the baby had to be nursed—fact! This superhumanly silly female actually went through the motions of nursing the motive force for some weeks. Though how the thing sucked—Excuse me, ladies; I would not discuss such delicate subjects did not the interests of truth require it.

If I had been the physician, at any rate, I think I should have recommended to hire a healthy female steam-engine for a wet nurse to this young motive force; say a locomotive, for instance. I feel sure the thing would have lived if it could have had a gauge-faucet or something of that sort to draw on. But the medical folks in charge chose to permit the mother to nurse the child, and she not being able to supply proper nutriment, the poor little innocent faded—if that word be appropriate for what couldn't be seen,—and finally "gin eout;" and the machinery, after some abortive joggles and turns, stood hopelessly still.

This story is true—that is, it is true that the story was told, the pretences were gone through, and the birth was actually believed by a good many people. Some of them were prodigiously enthusiastic about it, and called the invisible brat the New Motive Power, the Physical Savior, Heaven's Last Best Gift to Man, the New Creation, the Great Spiritual Revelation of the Age, the Philosopher's Stone, the Act of all Acts, and so on, and so forth.

The great question of all was, Who was the daddy? I don't know of anybody's asking this question, but its importance is extreme and obvious. For if things like this are going to happen, the ladies will be afraid to sleep alone in the house if so much as a sewing-machine or apple-corer be about, and will not dare take solitary walks along any stream where there is a water power.

A couple of miscellaneous anecdotes may not inappropriately be appended to this story of monstrous delusion.

Once a "writing medium" was producing sentences in various foreign languages. One of these was Arabic. An enthusiastic youth, a half-believer, after inspecting the wondrous scroll, handed it to his seat-mate, a professor (as it happened) in one of our oldest colleges, and a man of real learning. The professor scrutinized the document. What was the youth's delight to hear him at last observe gravely, "It is a kind of Arabic, sure enough!"

"What kind?" asked the young man with intense interest.

"Gum-arabic," said the professor.

The spirit of the prophet Daniel came one night into the apartment of a medium named Fowler, and right before his eyes, he said, wrote down some marks on a piece of paper. These were shown to the Reverend George Bush, Professor of Hebrew in the New-York University, who said that they were "a few verses from the last chapter of Daniel" and were learnedly written. Bush was a spiritualist as well as a professor of Hebrew, and he ought to have known better than to indorse spirit-Hebrew; for shortly there came others, who, to use a rustic phrase, "took the rag off the Bush." These inconvenient personages were three or four persons of learning: one a Jew, who proved that the document was an attempt to copy the verses in question, by some one so ignorant of Hebrew as not to know that it is written backward, that is, from right to left.

During the last few months, a "boy medium," by the name of Henry B. Allen, thirteen years of age, has been astonishing people in various parts of the country by "Physical Manifestations in the Light." The exhibitions of this precocious youngster have been "managed" by a Dr. Randall, who also lectures upon Spiritualism, expounding its "beautiful philosophy." For a number of weeks this couple held forth in Boston, sometimes giving several seances during the day, not more than thirty being allowed to attend at one time, each of whom were required to pay an admission fee of one dollar.

"The Banner of Light" fully indorsed this Allen boy, and gave lengthy accounts of his manifestations. The arrangements for his exhibition were very simple. A dulcimer, guitar, bell, and small drum being placed on a sofa or several chairs set against the wall, a clothes-horse was set in front of them and covered with a blanket, which came to the floor. To obtain "manifestations," a person was required to take off his coat and sit with his back to the clothes-horse. The medium then took a seat close to, and facing the investigator's left side, and grasped the left arm of the latter on the under side, above the elbow, with his (the medium's) right hand and near the wrist with the other hand. The "manager" then covered with a coat, the arms and left shoulder of the medium including the left arm of the investigator. The medium soon commenced to wriggle and twist—the "manager" said he was always nervous under "influence"—and worked the coat away from the position in which it had been placed. Taking his right hand from the investigator's arm, he readjusted the coat, and availed himself of that opportunity to get the investigator's wrist between his (the medium's) left arm and knee. That brought his left hand in such a position that with it he could grasp the investigator's arm where he had previously grasped it with his right hand. With the latter he could then reach around the edge of the clothes-horse and make a noise on the instruments. With the drumsticks he thumped on the dulcimer. Taking the guitar by the neck, he could vibrate the strings and show the body of the instrument above the clothes-horse, without any one seeing his hand! All persons present were so seated that they could not see behind the clothes-horse, or have a view of the medium's right shoulder. When asked why people were not allowed to occupy such a position, that they could have a fair view of the instruments when sounded, the "manager" replied that he did not exactly know, but presumed it was because the magnetic emanations from the eyes of the beholders would prevent the spirits being able to move the instruments at all! What was claimed to be a spirit-hand was often shown above the clothes-horse, where it flickered for an instant and was withdrawn; but it was invariably a right hand with the wrist toward the medium. When the person sitting with the medium was asked if the hands of the latter had constantly hold of his arm, he replied in the affirmative. Of course, he felt what he supposed to be both the medium's hands; but as I before explained, the pressure on his wrist was from the medium's left arm—the left hand of whom, by means of a very accommodating crook in the elbow, was grasping the investigator's arm where the medium's right hand was supposed to be.

From Boston the Allen boy went to Portland, Maine, where he succeeded "astonishingly," till some gentleman applied the lampblack test to his assumed mediumship, whereupon he "came to grief."

The following is copied from the "Portland Daily Press," of March 21.

"EXPOSED.—The 'wonderful' spiritual manifestations of the 'boy-medium,' Master Henry B. Allen, in charge of Doctor J. H. Randall, of Boston, were brought to a sad end last evening by the impertinent curiosity and wicked doings of some of the gentlemen present at the seance at Congress Hall.

"As usual, one of the company present was selected to sit at the side of the boy, and allowed his hand and arm to be held by both hands of the boy while the manifestations were going on. The boy seized hold of the gentleman's wrist with his left hand, and his shoulder, or near it, with the right hand. The manifestations then began, and among them was one trick of pulling the gentleman's hair.

"Immediately after this trick was performed, the hand of the boy was discovered to be very black—from lamp-black, of the best quality, with which the gentleman had dressed his head on purpose to detect whose was the 'spirit-hand' that pulled his hair. His shirt-sleeve, upon which the boy immediately replaced his hand after pulling his hair, was also black where the hand had been placed. The gentleman stated the facts to the company present, and the seance broke up. Dr. Randall refunded the fifty cents admission fee to those present."

The spiritualists of the city were somewhat staggered by this expose, but soon rallied as one of their number announced a new discovery in spiritual science. Here it is, as stated by himself:

"Whatever the electrical or 'spirit-hand' touches, will inevitably be transferred to the hand of the medium in every instance, unless something occurs to prevent the full operation of the law by which this result is produced. The spirit-hand being composed in part of the magnetic elements drawn from the medium, when it is dissolved again, and the magnetic fluid returns whence it came, it must of necessity carry with it whatever material substance it has touched, and leave it deposited upon the surface or material hand of the medium. This is a scientific question. How many innocent mediums have been wronged? and the invisible have permitted it, until we should discover that it was the natural result of a natural law."

What a great discovery! and how lucidly it is set forth! The author (who, by the way, is editor of the "Portland Evening Courier") of this new discovery, was not so modest but that he hastened to announce and claim full credit for it in the columns of the "Banner of Light"—the editor of which journal congratulates him on having done so much for the cause of spiritualism! Those skeptics who were present when the lamp-black was "transferred" from the gentleman's hair to the medium's hand, rashly concluded that the boy was an impostor. It remained for Mr. Hall—that is the philosopher's name—to make the "electro-magnetic transfer" discovery. The Allen boy ought ever to hold him in grateful remembrance for coming to his rescue at such a critical period, when the spirits would not vouchsafe an explanation that would exculpate him from the grievous charge of imposture. Mr. Hall deserves a leather medal now, and a soapstone monument when he is dead.

A person, whose initials are the same as the gentleman's named above, once lived in Aroostook, Maine, and was in the habit of attending "spiritual circles," in which he was sometimes influenced as a "personating medium," and to represent the symptoms of the disease which caused the controlling spirit's translation to another sphere. It having been reported in Aroostook that a certain well-known individual, living further east, had died of cholera, a desire was expressed at the next "circle" to have him "manifest" himself. The medium above referred to got "under influence," and personated, with an exhibition of all the symptoms of cholera, the gentleman who was reported to have died of that disease. So faithful to the supposed facts was the representation, that the medium had to be cared for as if he was himself a veritable cholera-patient. Several days after, the man who was "personated" appeared in Aroostook, alive and well, never having been attacked with the cholera. The local papers gave a graphic account of the "manifestation" soon after it occurred.

But to return to the Allen boy. After his exposure by means of the lamp-black test, and Mr. Hall, of the "Portland Evening Courier," had announced his new discovery in spiritual science, several of the Portland spiritualists had a private "sitting" with the boy. While he sat with his hands upon the arm of one of their number, they tied a rope to his wrists, and around the person's arm, covering his hands in the way I have before described. After some wriggling and twisting (the usual amount of "nervousness,") the bell was heard to ring behind the clothes-horse. The boy's right hand was then examined, and it was found to be stained with some colored matter that had previously been put upon the handle of the bell. As the boy's wrists were still tied, and the rope remained upon the man's arm, the "transfer" theory was considered to be established as a fact, and the previous exposure shown to be not only no exposure at all, but a "stepping-stone to a grand truth in spiritual science." Again and again did these persistent and infatuated spiritualists try what they call the "transfer test," varying with each experiment the coloring-material used, and every time the bell was rung the medium's right hand was found out to be stained with what had been put upon the bell-handle. By having a little slack-rope between his wrist and the man's arm, it was not a difficult matter for the medium, while his "nervousness" was being manifested, to get hold of the bell and ring it, and to make sounds upon the strings of the dulcimer or guitar, with a drumstick that the "manager" had placed at a convenient distance from his (the boy's) hand.

The "Portland Daily Press," in noticing a lecture against Spiritualism, recently delivered by Dr. Von Vleck, in that city, says:—"He (Dr. V. V.) performed the principal feats of the Allen boy, with his hands tied to the arm of the person with whom he was in communication."

Horace Greeley says that if a man will be a consummate jackass and fool, he is not aware of anything in the Constitution to prevent it. I believe Mr. Greeley is right; and I think no one can reasonably be expected to exercise common sense unless he is known to possess it. It is quite natural, therefore, that many of the spiritualists, lacking common sense, should pretend to have something better.



III. TRADE AND BUSINESS IMPOSITIONS.



CHAPTER XVIII.

ADULTERATIONS OF FOOD.—ADULTERATIONS OF LIQUOR.—THE COLONEL'S WHISKEY.—THE HUMBUGOMETER.

It was about eight hundred and fifty years before Christ when the young prophet cried out to his master, Elisha, over the pottage of wild gourds, "There is death in the pot!" It was two thousand six hundred and seventy years afterward, in 1820, that Accum, the chemist cried out over again, "There is death in the pot!" in the title page of a book so named, which gave almost everybody a pain in the stomach, with its horrid stories of the unhealthful humbugs sold for food and drink. This excitement has been stirred up more than once since Mr. Accum's time, with some success; yet nothing is more certain than that a very large proportion of the food we eat, of the liquid we drink—always excepting good well-filtered water—and the medicines we take, not to say a word about the clothes we wear and the miscellaneous merchandise we use, is more or less adulterated with cheaper materials. Sometimes these are merely harmless; as flour, starch, annatto, lard, etc.; sometimes they are vigorous, destructive poisons—as red lead, arsenic, strychnine, oil of vitriol, potash, etc.

It is not agreeable to find ourselves so thickly beset by humbugs; to find that we are not merely called on to see them, to hear them, to believe them, to invest capital in them, but to eat and drink them. Yet so it is; and, if my short discussion of this kind of humbug shall make people a little more careful, and help them to preserve their health, I shall think myself fortunate.

To begin with bread. Alum is very commonly put into it by the bakers, to make it white. Flour of inferior quality, "runny" flour, and even that from wormy wheat—ground-up worms, bugs, and all—is often mixed in as much as the case will bear. Potato flour has been known to be mixed with wheat; and so, thirty years ago, were plaster-of-Paris, bone-dust, white clay, etc. But these are little used now, if at all; and the worst thing in bread, aside from bad flour, which is bad enough, is usually the alum. It is often put in ready mixed with salt, and it accomplishes two things, viz., to make the bread white, and to suck up a good deal of water, and make the bread weigh well. It has been sometimes found that the alum was put in at the mill instead of the bakery.

Milk is most commonly adulterated with cold water; and many are the jokes on the milkmen about their best cow being choked etc., by a turnip in the pump-spout—their "cow with the wooden tail" (i. e., the pump-handle,) and so on. Awful stories are told about the London milkmen, who are said to manufacture a fearful kind of medicine to be sold as milk, the cream being made of a quantity of calf's brain beaten to a slime. Stories are told around New York, too, of a mysterious powder sold by druggists, which with water makes milk; but it is milk that must be used quickly, or it turns into a curious mess. But the worst adulteration of milk is to adulterate the old cow herself; as is done in the swill-milk establishments which received such an exposure a few years ago in a city paper. This milk is still furnished; and many a poor little baby is daily suffering convulsions from its effects. So difficult is it to find real milk for babies in the city, that physicians often prescribe the use of what is called "condensed" milk instead; which, though very different from milk not evaporated, is at least made of the genuine article. A series of careful experiments to develop the milk-humbug was made by a competent physician in Boston within a few years, but he found the milk there (aside from swill-milk) adulterated with nothing worse than water, salt, and burnt sugar.

Tea is bejuggled first by John Chinaman, who is a very cunning rascal; and second, by the seller here. Green and black tea are made from the same plant, but by different processes—the green being most expensive. To meet the increased demand for green tea, Master John takes immense quantities of black tea and "paints" it, by stirring into it over a fire a fine powder of plaster Paris and Prussian-blue, at the rate of half a pound to each hundred pounds of tea. John also sometimes takes a very cheap kind, and puts on a nice gloss by stirring it in gum-water, with some stove-polish in it. We may imagine ourselves, after drinking this kind of tea, with a beautiful black gloss on our insides. John moreover, manufactures vast quantities of what he plainly calls "Lie-tea." This is dust and refuse of tea-leaves and other leaves, made up with dust and starch or gum into little lumps, and used to adulterate better tea. Seven hundred and fifty thousand pounds of this nice stuff were imported into England in one period of eighteen months. It seems to be used in New-York only for green tea.

Coffee is adulterated with chicory-root (which costs only about one-third as much)—dandelion-root, peas, beans, mangold-wurzel, wheat, rye, acorns, carrots, parsnips, horse-chestnuts, and sometimes with livers of horses and cattle! All these things are roasted or baked to the proper color and consistency, and then mixed in. No great sympathy need be expended on those who suffer from this particular humbug, however; for when it is so easy to buy the real berry, and roast or at least grind it one's self, it is our own fault if our laziness leaves us to eat all those sorts of stuff.

Cocoa is "extended" with sugar, starch, flour, iron-rust, Venetian-red, grease, and various earths. But it is believed by pretty good authority that the American-made preparations of cocoa are nearly or quite pure. Even if they are not the whole bean can be used instead.

Butter and lard have one tenth, and sometimes even one-quarter, of water mixed up in them. It is easy to find this out by melting a sample before the fire and putting it away to cool, when the humbug appears by the grease going up, and the water, perhaps turbid with whey, settling below.

Honey is humbugged with sugar or molasses. Sugar is not often sanded as the old stories have it. Fine white sugar is sometimes floured pretty well; and brown sugar is sometimes made of a portion of good sugar with a cheaper kind mixed in. Inferior brown sugars are often full of a certain crab-like animalcule or minute bug, often visible without a microscope, in water where the sugar is dissolved. It is believed that this pleasing insect sometimes gets into the skin, and produces a kind of itch. I do not believe there is much danger of adulteration in good loaf or crushed white sugar, or good granulated or brown sugar.

Pepper is mixed with fine dust, dirt, linseed-meal, ground rice, or mustard and wheat-flour; ginger, with wheat flour colored by turmeric and reinforced by cayenne. Cinnamon is sometimes not present at all in what is so called—the stuff being the inferior and cheaper cassia bark; sometimes it is only part cassia; sometimes the humbug part of it is flour and ochre. Cayenne-pepper is mixed with corn-meal and salt, Venetian-red, mustard, brickdust, fine sawdust, and red-lead. Mustard with flour and turmeric. Confectionery is often poisoned with Prussian-blue, Antwerp-blue, gamboge, ultramarine, chrome yellow, red-lead, white-lead, vermilion, Brunswick-green, and Scheele's green, or arsenite of copper! Never buy any confectionery that is colored or painted. Vinegar is made of whisky, or of oil of vitriol. Pickles have verdigris in them to make them a pretty green. "Pretty green" he must be who will eat bought pickles! Preserved fruits often have verdigris in them, too.

An awful list! Imagine a meal of such bewitched food, where the actual articles are named. "Take some of the alum bread." "Have a cup of pea-soup and chicory-coffee?" "I'll trouble you for the oil-of-vitriol, if you please." "Have some sawdust on your meat, or do you prefer this flour and turmeric mustard?" "A piece of this verdigris-preserve gooseberry pie, Madam?" "Won't you put a few more sugar-bugs in your ash-leaf tea?" "Do you prefer black tea, or Prussian-blue tea?" "Do you like your tea with swill-milk, or without?"

I have not left myself space to speak of the tricks played by the druggists and the liquor-dealers; but I propose to devote another chapter exclusively to the adulteration of liquors in this country. It is a subject so fearful and so important that nothing less than a chapter can do it justice. I must now end with a story or two and a suggestion or two.

Old Colonel P. sold much whisky; and his manner was to sell by sample out of a pure barrel over night, at a marvelous cheap rate, and then to "rectify" before morning, under pretence of coopering and marking. Certain persons having a grudge against the Colonel, once made an arrangement with a carman, who executed their plan, thus:—He went to the Colonel, and asked to see whisky. The jolly old fellow took him down stairs and showed him a great cellar full. Carman samples a barrel. "Fust rate, Colonel, how d'ye sell it?" Colonel names his price on the rectified basis. "Well, Colonel, how much yer got?" "So many barrels—two or three hundred." "Colonel, here's your money. I'll take the lot." "All right," says Colonel P.; "there's some coopering to be done on it; some of the hoops and heads are a very little loose. You shall have it all in the morning." "No, colonel, we'll roll it right out this minnit! My trucks are up there, all ready." And, sure enough, he had a string of a dozen or more brigaded in the street. The Colonel was sadly dumbfounded; he turned several colors—red mostly—stammered, made excuses. It was no go, the whisky was the customer's, and the game was up. The humbugged old humbug finally "came down," and bought his man off by paying him several hundred dollars.

There is a much older and better known story about a grocer who was a deacon, and who was heard to call down stairs before breakfast, to his clerk: "John, have you watered the rum?" "Yes, Sir." "And sanded the sugar?" "Yes, Sir." "And dusted the pepper?" "Yes, Sir." "And chicoried the coffee?" "Yes, Sir." "Then come up to prayers." Let us hope that the grocers of the present day, while they adulterate less, do not pray less.

Between 1851 and 1854, Mr. Wakley of the "London Lancet" gave an awful roasting to the adulteration-interest in London. He employed an able analyzer, who began by going about without telling what he was at; and buying a great number of samples of all kinds of food, drugs, etc., at a great number of shops. Then he analyzed them; and when he found humbug in any sample, he published the facts, and the seller's name and place of business. It may be imagined what a terrible row this kicked up. Very numerous and violent threats were made; but the "Lancet," was never once sued by any of the aggrieved, for it had told the truth.

Perhaps some discouraged reader may ask, What can I eat? Well, I don't pretend to direct people's diet. Ask your doctor, if you can't find out. But I will suggest that there are a few things that can't be adulterated. You can't adulterate an egg, nor an oyster, nor an apple, nor a potato, nor a salt codfish; and if they are spoiled they will notify you themselves! and when good, they are all good healthy food. In short, one good safeguard is, to use, as far as you can, things with their life in them when you buy them, whether vegetable or animal. The next best rule against these adulteration-humbugs is, to buy goods crude instead of manufactured; coffee, and pepper, and spices, etc., whole instead of ground, for instance. Thus, though you give more work, you buy purity with it. And lastly, there are various chemical processes, and the microscope, to detect adulterations; and milk, in particular, may always be tested by a lactometer,—a simple little instrument which the milkmen use, which costs a few shillings, and which tells the story in an instant. It is a glass bulb, with a stem above and a scale on it, and a weight below. In good average milk, at sixty degrees of heat, the lactometer floats at twenty on its scale; and in poorer milk, at from that figure down. If it floats at fifteen, the milk is one-fourth water; if at ten, one half.

It would be a wonderful thing for mankind if some philosophic Yankee would contrive some kind of "ometer" that would measure the infusion of humbug in anything. A "Humbugometer" he might call it. I would warrant him a good sale.



CHAPTER XIX.

ADULTERATIONS IN DRINKS.—RIDING HOME ON YOUR WINE-BARREL.—LIST OF THINGS TO MAKE RUM.—THINGS TO COLOR IT WITH.—CANAL-BOAT HASH.—ENGLISH ADULTERATION LAW.—EFFECTS OF DRUGS USED.—HOW TO USE THEM.—BUYING LIQUORS UNDER THE CUSTOM-HOUSE LOCK.—A HOMOEOPATHIC DOSE.

As long as the people of the United States tipple down rum and other liquors at the rate of a good deal more than one hundred million gallons a year, besides what is imported and what is called imported—as long as they pay for their tippling a good deal more than fifty millions, and probably over a hundred millions of dollars a year—so long it will be a great object to manufacture false liquors, and sell them at the price of true ones. When liquor of good quality costs from four to fifteen dollars a gallon, and an imitation can be had that tastes just as good, and has just as much "jizm" in it,—and probably a good deal more,—for from twenty-five cents to one dollar a gallon, somebody will surely make and sell that imitation.

Adulterating and imitating liquors is a very large business; and I don't know of anybody who will deny that this particular humbug is very extensively cultivated. There are a great many people, however, who will talk about it as they do in Western towns about fever and ague: "We don't do anything of the kind here, but those other people over there do!"

There is very little pure liquor, either malt or spirituous, to be obtained in any way. The more you pay for it, as a rule, the more the publican gains, but what you drink is none the purer. Importing don't help you. Port is—or used to be, for very little is now made, comparatively—imitated in immense quantities at Oporto; and in the log-wood trade, the European wine-makers competed with the dyers. It is a London proverb, that if you want genuine port-wine, you have got to go to Oporto and make your own wine, and then ride on the barrel all the way home. It is perhaps possible to get pure wine in France by buying it at the vineyard; but if any dealer has had it, give up the idea!

As for what is done this side of the water, now for it. I do not rely upon the old work of Mr. "Death-in-the-pot Accum," printed some thirty years ago, in England. My statements come mostly from a New York book put forth within a few years by a New York man, whose name is now in the Directory, and whose business is said to consist to a great extent in furnishing one kind or another of the queer stuff he talks about, to brewers, or distillers, or wine and brandy merchants.

This gentleman, in a sweet alphabetical miscellany of drugs, herbs, minerals, and groceries commonly used in manufacturing our best Old Bourbon whisky, Swan gin, Madeira wine, pale ale, London brown stout, Heidsieck, Clicquot, Lafitte, and other nice drinks; names the chief of such ingredients as follows:

Aloes, alum, calamus (flag-root) capsicum, cocculus indicus, copperas, coriander-seed, gentian-root, ginger, grains-of-paradise, honey, liquorice, logwood, molasses, onions, opium, orange-peel, quassia, salt, stramonium-seed (deadly nightshade), sugar of lead, sulphite of soda, sulphuric acid, tobacco, turpentine, vitriol, yarrow. I have left strychnine out of the list, as some persons have doubts about this poison ever being used in adulterating liquors. A wholesale liquor-dealer in New York city, however, assures me that more than one-half the so-called whisky is poisoned with it.

Besides these twenty-seven kinds of rum, here come twenty-three more articles, used to put the right color to it when it is made; by making a soup of one or another, and stirring it in at the right time. I alphabet these, too: alkanet-root, annatto, barwood, blackberry, blue-vitriol, brazil-wood, burnt sugar, cochineal, elderberry, garancine (an extract of madder), indigo, Nicaragua-wood, orchil, pokeberry, potash, quercitron, red beet, red cabbage, red carrots, saffron, sanders-wood, turmeric, whortleberry.

In all, in both lists, just fifty. There are more, however. But that's enough. Now then, my friend, what did you drink this morning? You called it Bourbon, or Cognac, or Old Otard, very likely, but what was it? The "glorious uncertainty" of drinking liquor under these circumstances is enough to make a man's head swim without his getting drunk at all. There might, perhaps, be found a consolation like that of the Western traveller about the hash. "When I travel in a canal-boat or steam-boat," quoth this brave and stout-stomached man, "I always eat the hash, because then I know what I've got!"

It was a good many years ago that the Parliament of England found it necessary to make a law to prevent sophisticating malt liquors. Here is the list of things they forbid to put into beer: "molasses, honey, liquorice, vitriol, quassia, cocculus indicus, grains-of-paradise, Guinea-pepper, opium." The penalty was one thousand dollars fine on the brewer, and two thousand five hundred dollars on the druggist who supplied him.

I know of no such law in this country. The theory of our government leaves people to take care of themselves as much as possible. But now let us see what some of these fifty ingredients will do. Beets and carrots, honey and liquorice, orange-peel and molasses, will not do much harm; though I should think tipplers would prefer them as the customer at the eating-house preferred his flies, "on a separate plate." But the case is different with cocculus indicus, and stramonium, and sulphuric acid, and sugar of lead, and the like. I take the following accounts, so far as they are medical, from a standard work by Dr. Dunglison:—Aloes is a cathartic. Cocculus indicus contains picrotoxin, which is an "acrid narcotic poison;" from five to ten grains will kill a strong dog. The boys often call it "cockle-cinders;" they pound it and mix it in dough, and throw it into the water to catch fish. The poor fish eat it, soon become delirious, whirling and dancing furiously about on the top of the water, and then die. Copperas tends to produce nausea, vomiting, griping, and purging. Grains-of-paradise, a large kind of cardamom, is "strongly heating and carminative" (i. e., anti-flatulent and anti-spasmodic.) Opium is known well enough. Stramonium-seed would seem to have been made on purpose for the liquor business. In moderate doses it is a powerful narcotic, producing vertigo, headache, dimness or perversion of vision (i. e., seeing double) and confusion of thought. (N. B. What else does liquor do?) In larger doses (still like liquor,) you obtain these symptoms aggravated; and then a delirium, sometimes whimsical (snakes in your boots) and sometimes furious, a stupor, convulsions, and death. A fine drink this stramonium? Sugar of lead is what is called a cumulative poison; having the quality of remaining in the system when taken in small quantities, and piling itself up, as it were, until there is enough to accomplish something, when it causes debility, paralysis, and other things. Sulphuric acid is strongly corrosive,—a powerful caustic, attacking the teeth, even when very dilute; eating up flesh and bones alike when strong enough; and, if taken in a large enough dose, an awfully tearing and agonizing fatal poison.

The way to use these delectable nutriments is in part as follows:—Stir a little sulphuric acid into your beer. This will give you a fine "old ale" in about a quarter of a minute. Take a mixture of alum, salt, and copperas, ground fine, and stir into your beer, and this will make it froth handsomely. Cocculus indicus, tobacco-leaves, and stramonium, cooked in the beer, etc., give it force. Potash is sometimes stirred into wine to correct acidity. Sulphite of soda is now very commonly stirred into cider, to keep it from fermenting further. Sugar of lead is stirred into wines to make them clear, and to keep them sweet. And so on, through the whole long list.

It is a curious instance of people's quiet acknowledgment of their own foolishness, that a popular form of the invitation to take a drink is, "Come and h'ist in some pizen!"

I know of no plan by which anybody can be sure of obtaining pure liquor of any description. Some persons always purchase their wines and liquors while they are under the custom-house lock and consequently before they have reached the hands of the importer. Yet there are scores of men in New York and Philadelphia who have made large fortunes by sending whisky to France, there refining, coloring, flavoring, and doctoring it, then re-shipping it to New York as French brandy, paying the duty, and selling it before it has left the custom-house! There is a locality in France where a certain brand of wine is made. It is adulterated with red-lead, and every year more or less of the inhabitants of that locality are attacked with "lead-colic," caused by drinking this poisoned wine right at the fountain-head where it is made. There is more bogus champagne drank in any one year, in the city of Paris alone, than there is genuine champagne made in any one year in the world. America ordinarily consumes more so-called champagne annually than is made in the world, and yet nearly all the genuine champagne in the world is taken by the courts of Europe. The genuine Hock wine made at Johannisberg on the Rhine is worth three dollars per bottle by the large quantity, and nearly all of it is shipped to Russia; yet, at any of the hotels in the village of Johannisberg, within half a mile from the wine-presses of the pure article, you can be supplied for a dollar per bottle with what purports to be the genuine Hock wine. Since chemistry has enabled liquor dealers to manufacture any description of wine or liquor for twenty-five cents to a dollar a gallon, there are annually made and sold thousands of gallons of wine and brandy that never smelt a grape.

Suppose a wholesale liquor-merchant imports genuine brandy. He usually "rectifies" and adulterates it by adding eighty-five gallons of pure spirits (refined whisky,) to fifteen gallons of brandy, to give it a flavor; then colors and "doctors" it, and it is ready for sale. Suppose an Albany wholesale-dealer purchases, for pure brandy, ten pipes of this adulterated brandy from a New York importer. The Albany man immediately doubles his stock by adding an equal quantity of pure spirits. There are then seven and a half gallons of brandy in a hundred. A Buffalo liquor-dealer buys from the Albany man, and he in turn adds one-half pure spirits. The Chicago dealer buys from the Buffalo dealer, and as nearly all spirit-dealers keep large quantities of pure spirits on hand, and know how to use it, he again doubles the quantity of his brandy by adding pure spirits; and the Milwaukee liquor-dealer does the same, after purchasing from the Chicago man. So, in the ordinary course of liquor transactions, by the time a hundred gallon pipe of pure brandy reaches Wisconsin, at a cost of five or perhaps ten dollars per gallon, ninety-nine gallons and one pint of it is the identical whisky that was shipped from Wisconsin the same year at fifty cents per gallon. Truly a homoeopathic dose of genuine brandy! And even that whisky when it left Wisconsin was only half whisky; for there are men in the whisky-making States who make it a business to take whisky direct from the distillery, add to it an equal quantity of water, and then bring it up to a bead and the power of intoxication, by mixing in a variety of the villainous drugs and deadly poisons enumerated in this chapter. The annual loss of strength, health, and life caused by the adulteration of liquor is truly appalling. Those who have not examined the subject can form no just estimate of the atrocious and extensive effects of this murderous humbug.



CHAPTER XX.

THE PETER FUNKS AND THEIR FUNCTIONS.—THE RURAL DIVINE AND THE WATCH.—RISE AND PROGRESS OF MOCK AUCTIONS.—THEIR DECLINE AND FALL.

Not many years ago, a dignified and reverend man, whose name is well known to me, was walking sedately down Broadway. He was dressed in clerical garb of black garments and white neckcloth. He was a man of great learning, profound thought, long experience, unaffected piety, and pure and high reputation.

All at once, a kind of chattering shout smote him fair in the left ear:

"Narfnarfnarf! Three shall I have? Narfnarfnarfnarfnarf! Going at two and a half! Gone!!"

And the grave divine, pausing, beheld a doorway, over which waved a little red flag. Within, a company of eager bidders thronged around an auctioneer's stand; and the auctioneer himself, a well-dressed man with a highly respectable look, was just handing over to the delighted purchaser a gold watch.

"It would be cheap at one hundred dollars," said he, in a despondent tone. "It's mere robbery to sell it for that price. I'd buy it myself if 'twas legal."

And while the others, with exclamations of surprise and congratulation, crowded to see this famous purchase, and the buyer exhibited it with a joyful countenance close by the door, the divine, just out of curiosity, stepped in. He owned no watch; he was a country clergyman, and poor in this world's goods; so poor that, to use a familiar phrase, "if steamboats were selling at a dime a piece, he would hardly be able to buy a gang-plank." But what if he could, by good luck, buy a good gold watch for two dollars and a half in this wonderful city!

Somehow, that watch was snapped open and closed again right under his ministerial nose about six times. The auctioneer held up another of exactly the same kind, and began to chatter again.

"Now gentlemen, what 'moffered f'this first-class M. I. Tobias gold English lever watch—full jeweled, compensation-balance, anchor-escapement, hunting case? One, did I hear? Say two cents, wont yer? Two and a half! narfnarfnarfnarfnarf and a half! Two and a half, and three quarters. Thank you, Sir," to a sailor-like man in the corner.

"Three," said a tall and well-dressed young gentleman with short hair, near the clergyman, adding, in an undertone, "I can sell it for fifty this afternoon."

"Three I am offered," says Mr. Auctioneer, and chattered on as before: "And a half, did you say, Sir? Thank you, Sir. And a halfnarfnarf!"

The reverend divine had said, "And a half." The Peter Funks had got him! But he didn't find it out quite yet. The bidding was run up to four dollars; the clergyman took the watch, opened and examined it; was convinced, handed it back, ventured another half, and the watch was knocked down to him. The auctioneer fumbled in some papers, and, in a moment, handed him his bargain neatly done up.

"This way to the clerk's office if you please, Sir," he added, with a civil bow. The clergyman passed a little further in; and while the sales proceeded behind him, the clerk made out a bill and proffered it.

"Fifty-four dollars and a half!" read the country divine, astounded. "Four and a half is what I bid!"

"Four and a half!" exclaimed the clerk, with sarcastic indignation; "Four dollars and a half! A pretty story! A minister to have the face to say he could buy an M. I. Tobias gold watch, full jeweled, for four dollars and a half! Ill thank you for the money, Sir. Fifty-four, fifty, if you please."

The auctioneer, as if interrupted by the loud tones of the indignant clerk, stopped the sale to see what was the matter. On hearing the statement of the two parties, he cast a glance of angry contempt upon the poor clergyman, who, by this time, was uneasy enough at their scowling faces. Then, as if relenting, he said half-sneeringly:

"I don't think you look very well in this business, Sir. But you are evidently a clergyman, and we wish everybody to have fair treatment in this office. We won't be imposed upon, Sir, by any man!" (Here his face darkened, and his fists could be seen to clench with much meaning.) "Pay that money, Sir! This establishment is not to be humbugged. But you needn't be afraid of losing anything. You may let me take the watch and sell it for you again on the spot. Very likely you can get more for it. You can't lose. The clergyman hesitated. The tall and well-dressed young man with short hair pushed up and said:

"Don't want it? Put her up again. G—! I'd like another chance myself!"

A heavily-built fellow with one eye, observed over the auctioneer's shoulder, with an evil look at the divine, "D—d if I don't believe that cuss is a gambler, come in here to fool us country-folks. They allus wears white neckcloths. I say, search him and boot him out of the shop!"

"Hold your tongue!" answered the auctioneer, with dignity. "I will see you safe, Sir," to the clergyman. "But you bid that money, and you must pay it. We can't do this business on any other principles."

"You will sell it for me again at once?" asked the poor minister.

"Certainly," said the mollified auctioneer. And the humbugged divine, with an indistinct sense of something wrong, but not able to tell what, took out forty dollars from his lean wallet and handed it to the clerk.

"It's all I have to get home with," he said, simply.

"Never fear, old gentleman," said the clerk, affably; "You'll be all right in two minutes."

The watch was put up again. The clergyman, scarce able to believe his ears, heard it rapidly run up to sixty dollars and knocked down at that price. The cash was handed to the clerk, and another bill made out; ten per cent., deducted, commission on sales. "Usual terms, Sir," observed the clerk, handing over the notes just received for the watch. And the divine, very thankful to get off for half a dollar, hurried off as fast as he could.

I need not say that his fifty-four dollars was all counterfeit money. When he went next morning, after endeavoring in vain to part with his new funds, to find the place where he had been humbugged, it was close shut, and he could hardly identify even the doorway. He went to the police, and the shrewd captain told him that it was a difficult business; but sent an officer with him to look up the rascals. Officer found one; demanded redress; clergyman did the same. Rascal asked clergyman's name; got it; told him he could prosecute if he liked. Clergyman looked at officer; officer, with indifference, observed:

"Means to stick your name in the papers."

Clergyman said he would take further advice; did take it; thought he wouldn't be shown up as a "greeny" in the police reports; borrowed money enough to get home with, and if he has a gold watch now—which I really hope he has—got it either for its real value, or as a "testimonial."

There, that (with many variations) is the whole story of Peter Funk. These "mock auctioneers," sometimes, as in the case I have mentioned, take advantage of the respectability of their victims, sometimes of their haste to leave the city on business. When they could not possibly avoid it, they disgorged their prey. No instance is known to me of any legal penalty being inflicted on them by a magistrate; but they were always, until 1862, treated by police, by magistrate, and by mayor, just as thieves would be who should always be let off on returning their stealings; so that they could not lose by thieving, and might gain.

These rascally mock-auctioneers, thus protected by the authorities, used to fleece the public out of not less than sixty thousand dollars a year. One of them cleared twelve thousand dollars during the year 1861 alone. And this totally shameless and brazen-faced humbug flourished in New York for twenty-five years!

About the first day of June, 1862, the Peter Funks had eleven dens, or traps, in operation in New York; five in Broadway below Fulton street, and the others in Park row, and Courtlandt, Greenwich, and Chatham streets.

The name, Peter Funk, is said to have been that of the founder of their system; but I know nothing more of his career. At this date, in 1862, the system was in a high state of organization and success, and included the following constituents:

1. Eight chief Funks, or capitalists, and managers, whose names are well enough known. I have them on record.

2. About as many more salesmen, who took turns with the chiefs in selling and clerking.

3. Seventy or eighty, rank and file, or ropers-in. These acted the part of buyers, like the purchaser whose delight over his watch helped to deceive the minister and the other bidders on that occasion. These fellows dressed up as countrymen, sailors, and persons of miscellaneous respectability. They bid and talked when that was sufficient, or helped the managers thrash any troublesome person, if necessary. Once in a long time they met their match; as, for instance, when the mate of a ship brought up a squad of his crew, burst into one of their dens, and beat and battered up the whole gang within an inch of their lives. But, in most cases, the reckless infamy of these dregs of city vice gave them an immense advantage over a decent citizen; for they could not be defiled nor made ridiculous, and he could.

4. Two or three traders in cheap jewelry and fancy-goods supplied the Funks with their wares. One of these fellows used to sell them fifty or a hundred dollars' worth of this trash a day; and he lamented as much over their untimely end as the Ephesian silversmiths did over the loss of their trade in shrines.

5. A lawyer received a regular salary of $1,200 a year to defend all the Funk cases.

6. The city politicians, in office and out of it, who were wont to receive the aid of the Funks (a very energetic cohort) at elections, and who in return unscrupulously used both power and influence to keep them from punishment.

All this cunning machinery was brought to naught and New York relieved of a shame and a pest by the courage, energy, perseverance, and good sense of one Yankee officer—Russell Wells, a policeman. Mr. Wells took about six months to finish up his work. He began it of his own accord, finding that the spirit of the police regulations required it; prosecuted the undertaking without fear or favor, finding not very much support from the judicial authorities, and sometimes actual and direct discouragement. His method was to mount guard over one auction shop at a time, and warn all whom he saw going in, and to follow up all complaints to the utmost until that shop was closed, when he laid siege to another. Various offers of money, direct and indirect, were made him. One fellow offered him $500 to walk on the other side of the street. Another offered him $1,000 to drop the undertaking. Another hinted at a regular salary of hush-money, saying "he had now got these fellows where he could make as much out of them as he wanted to, right along."

Sometimes they threatened him with "murder and sudden death." Several times they got out an injunction upon him, and several times sued him for slander. One of their complaints charged, with ludicrous hypocrisy, that the defendant, "with malicious intent, stood round the door uttering slanderous charges against the good name, fame, and credit of the defendant," just as foolish old lawyers used to argue that "the greater the truth the greater the libel." Sometimes they argued and indignantly denounced. One of them told him, "he was a thief and a murderer, driving men out of employment whose wives and children depended on their business for support."

Another contended that their business was just as fair as that of the stock-operators in Wall street. I fear that wasn't making out much of a case.

But their threats were idle; their suits, and prosecutions, and injunctions, never came to a head; their bribes did not operate. The officer, imperturbably good-natured, but horribly diligent, watched, and warned, and hunted, and complained, and squeezed back their money at the rate of $500 or $1,000 every month, until they were perfectly sickened. One by one they shut up shop. One went to his farm, another to his merchandise, another to emigrant running, another (known by the elegant surname of Blur-eye Thompson) to raising recruits, several into the bounty jumping business.

Such was the life and death of an outrageous humbug and nuisance, whose like was not to be found in any other city on earth; and would not have been endured in any except this careless, money-getting, misgoverned one of New York.



CHAPTER XXI.

LOTTERY SHARKS.—BOULT AND HIS BROTHERS.—KENNETH, KIMBALL AND COMPANY.—A MORE CENTRAL LOCATION WANTED FOR BUSINESS.—TWO SEVENTEENTHLIES.—STRANGE COINCIDENCE.

I have before me a mass of letters, printed and lithographed circulars, and the like, which illustrate well two or three of the most foolish and vicious swindles [it is wrong to call them humbugs] now extant. They also prove that there are a good many more fools alive in our Great Republic than some of us would like to admit.

These letters and papers are signed, respectively, by the following names: Alexander Van Dusen; Thomas Boult & Co.; E. F. Mayo; Geo. P. Harper; Browne, Sherman & Co.; Hammett & Co.; Charles A. Herbert; Geo. C. Kenneth; T. Seymour & Co.; C. W. White, Purchasing Agency; C. J. Darlington; B. H. Robb & Co.; James Conway; S. B. Goodrich; Egerton Brothers; C. F. Miner; E. J. Kimball; E. A. Wilson; and J. T. Small.

All these productions, with one or two exceptions, are dated during the last three months of 1864, and January 1865. They are mailed from a good many different places, and addressed to respectable people in all directions.

In particular, should be noticed, however, two lots of them.

The first lot are signed either by Thomas Boult & Co., Hammett & Co., Egerton Brothers, or T. Seymour & Co. When these four documents are placed together, each with its inclosure, a story is told that seems clear enough to explain itself to the greenest fool in the world.

These fellows—Boult and the rest of them, I mean—are lottery sharks. Now, those who buy lottery tickets are very silly and credulous, or very lazy, or both. They want to get money without earning it. This foolish and vicious wish, however, betrays them into the hands of these lottery sharks. I wish that each of these poor foolish, greedy creatures could study on this set of letters awhile. Look at them. You see that the lithographed handwriting in all four is in the same hand. You observe that each of them incloses a printed hand-bill with "scheme," all looking as like as so many peas. They refer, you see, to the same "Havana scheme," the same "Shelby College Lottery," the same "managers," and the same place of drawing. Now, see what they say. Each knave tells his fool his only object is to put said fool in possession of a handsome prize, so that fool may run round and show the money, and rope in more fools. What an ingenious way to make the fool think he will return value for the prize! Each knave further says to his fool (I copy the words of the knave from his lithograph letter:) "We are so certain that we know how to select a lucky certificate, that if the one we select for you does not, at the very least, draw a $5,000 prize, we will"—what? Pay the money ourselves? Oh no. Knave does not offer to pay half of it. "Will send you another package in one of our extra lotteries for nothing!"

Observe how particularly every knave is to tell his fool to "give us the name of the nearest bank," so that the draft for the prize-money can be forwarded instantly.

And in return for all this kindness, what do Messrs. Boult and-so-forth want? Why, almost nothing. "The ridiculously small sum," as Mr. Montague Tigg observed to Mr. Pecksniff, of $10. You observe that Hammett & Co., in one circular, demand $20, for the same $5,000 prize. But the amount, they would say, is too trifling to be so particular about!

I will suggest a form for answering these gentlemen. Let every one of my readers who receives one of their circulars just copy and date and sign, and send them the following:

"GENTLEMEN:—I thank you for your great kindness in wishing to make me the possessor of a $5,000 prize in your truly rich and splendid Royal Havana Lottery. I fully believe that you know, as you say, all about how to get these prizes, and that you can make it a big thing. But I cannot think of taking all that money from such kind of people as you. I must insist upon your having half of it, and I will not hear of any refusal, I therefore hereby authorize you to invest for me the trifle of $10, which you mention; and when the prize is drawn, to put half of it, and $10 over, right into your own benevolent pantaloons-pocket, and to remit the other half to me, addressed as follows: (Here give the name of the "nearest bank.")

"I have not the least fear that you will cheat me out of my half; and, as you see, I thus place myself confidently in your hands. With many thanks for your great and undeserved kindness, I remain your obliged and obedient servant. ETC., ETC."

My readers will observe that this mode of replying affords full swing to the expansive charities of Boult and his brethren, and is a sure method of saving the expenditure of $10, although Boult is to get that amount back when the prize is drawn.

I charge nothing for these suggestions; but will not be so discourteous as to refuse a moderate percentage on all amounts received in pursuance of them from Brother Boult & Co.

Here is the second special lot of letters I spoke of. I lay them out on my desk as before: There are six letters signed respectively by Kimball, Goodrich, Darlington, Kenneth, Harper, and Herbert. Now notice, first the form, and next the substance.

As to form—they are all written, not, lithographed; they are on paper of the same make and size, and out of the same lot, as you observe by the manufacturer's stamp—a representation of the Capitol in the upper corner. They are in the same hand, an easy legible business-hand, though three of them are written with a backward slope. Those who sent them have not sent me the envelopes with them, except in one case, so that I cannot tell where they were mailed. Neither is any one of them dated inside at any town or post-office. But, by a wonderful coincidence, every one of them is dated at "No. 17 Merchants' Exchange." A busy mart that No. 17 must be! And it is a still more curious coincidence that every one of these six industrious chaps has been unable to find a sufficiently central location for transacting his business. Every letter you see, contains a printed slip advising of a removal, as follows: