Martin Farquhar Tupper - My Life as an Author
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Martin Farquhar Tupper >> My Life as an Author
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And why then, he went on to say, shouldn't Ireland have a palace--a
Balmoral at Killarney, or another Osborne at Killiney?
Poor Erin is that unsunned corner of our Empire's field; and it seems a
thousand pities that the kingdom of Ireland should be denied some such
special royal home as is even found rather superfluously at the camp at
Aldershot. What if one of those lovely arbutus-wooded islands at the
foot of M'Gillicuddy's Reeks were fitted with a Swiss cottage for the
Queen? Or if Bantry Bay supplied its marble for a royal castle near Cape
Clear? Or if the railroad to Galway were supplied with a gilt carriage
or two to waft Majesty and children to some western palace in Connemara?
Think you such gleams of sunshine wouldn't fertilise that poor neglected
field, nor make its crops abundant, and its peasants happy? Think you
that the gold mine of Royal bounty, and the graciousness of Royal
favour, would not work a blessed change for grateful Ireland? Try it, O
good Queen!--a Viceregal Court, excellent as ours is now, is but a sorry
substitute for the real Majesty, nickel for silver, electrotyped plate
instead of the true golden buffet: not without snobbism too, and
toadyism and vulgarism and other detestable small heresies. If but once
in three years Victoria's rural Court were housed in an Irish palace,
her presence would do more for happiness, prosperity, and patriotism
than all of these that Maynooth grants have ever hindered.
* * * * *
Thus AEsop Smith in 1858 delivered his mind on the matter. It is by no
means pretended or supposed that a palatial residence would of itself
cure Irish evils and misfortunes; but it might be a step towards this
good result, and at any rate would remove one very allegible accusation
of neglect: Ireland should enjoy the like privileges with her sister
kingdoms England and Scotland: and however inadequate, _per se_, such a
simple prescription may seem as "AEsop Smith" suggests, his advice
contains at least one very obvious and easy cure for Irish disaffection;
and I am not aware that either by pamphlet or in Parliament it has yet
been seriously mooted. The Celts are a folk of essentially loyal
instincts; but (much as Americans often are heard to complain in their
own behalf) they have, as an independent nation, no seen and known
object for their loyalty. Since the days of Brian Boroime at his mythic
court of Tara, the Irish people have hardly set eyes upon the monarch of
their country: perhaps (if we except the conquering William of the
Boyne) our elderly Adonis, George the Fourth, was the sole specimen of
English Majesty that has illuminated Ireland; until our gracious Queen
herself made two very short but notable visitations in 1849 and 1853:
yet even in the Georgian instance, unfavourable as personally it must
have been, the enthusiastic reception he met with some sixty years ago
at the hands of his Irish subjects is still remembered after two
generations with a grateful and effusive loyalty. Imagine, if only from
such an example as this, what might be the beneficent effect of our good
Queen periodically visiting her kingdom of Ireland, and permanently
having there some such happy homestead as Osborne or Balmoral; if also,
in her absence, one of the princes of our Royal house represented his
Imperial mother as Viceroy; and if in their train the tide of
aristocracy, wealth, and fashion flowed in upon impoverished Ireland. It
is not easy to calculate the advantages of such a social revolution as
this; and surely, in spite of many obvious objections, such an
experiment might be worth the trial.
A beginning might avowedly be made in the right direction, by building
or purchasing some suitable castle as a permanent palace for Ireland's
Queen; say, for old association's sake, at Tara, if anyhow
adaptable,--or any other picturesque neighbourhood connected with some
ancient chieftain of the Irish quasi-heptarchy; wherein a Royal
Establishment might be commenced, in present proof of the serious
intention as to an early future residence: the mind of the people might
be thus prepared for the speedy coming of their Sovereign and her Court,
and would be softened and gratified by the evident confidence and
good-feeling thus shown; as well as their condition materially benefited
by the necessary expenditure that must be laid out locally in labour and
materials, giving work to the needy, and so helping to cure Erin's chief
disease,--poverty to the verge of famine. As to actual
life-peril,--every due precaution being taken,--the happy result of such
a humanising experiment might fairly be left to the generous native
loyalty of a kindly treated people, and to the gracious guardianship of
God's good providence. I am sure that present Royalty would neither be
boycotted nor burked. We remember with what generous cordiality our
Prince and Princess were received by all classes and creeds in their
recent brave visit to Ireland.
* * * * *
I cannot honestly pretend to have always taken quite so amiable a view
of Celtic matters. I plead guilty to having more than once assailed in
print Daniel O'Connell and his kind, and to have written a pair of once
famous poetical fly-leaves, "Erin go bragh" and "Hurrah for Repeal!"
copies of which (beyond my archived ones) can now only be found in the
Ballad Collection of the British Museum, which I used to supply with my
Sibyllines, at a chief librarian's request: I forget the name, but he
collected such placards. I fear the two above were not very
complimentary: but what can one do for a perverse people, who complain
of it as a wrong that they are excused the Queen's taxes? Also I wrote
certain famous letters on Ireland, especially four long ones signed
"T.," in the _Times_ of January 1847.
* * * * *
In Ireland I have caught a salmon at Killarney and cooked it too on an
arbutus stake; I have bruised my shins at the Giant's Causeway; I have
been an honoured guest at classical Florence Court; have picked up
native gold at Avoca; have done the Round Towers, possibly Phoenician
Baal-temples; have handled Brian Boroime's harp; and have been shocked
everywhere by the poverty and degradation of that musical barbarian's
miserable because idle people. What can be done for those who will not
help themselves?
CHAPTER XLIV.
SOME SPIRITUALISTIC REMINISCENCES.
Having often been asked to put on record my few and far-between
experiences of spiritualism, as on several occasions I have verbally
related them, I have hitherto neglected or declined to do so, on account
of having really seen little, whereas many others have seen far more.
And on the whole it is to me rather an unwelcome task from several
considerations; first, because I have never wished to add, by my
apparent testimony, to the rising tide of unwholesome superstition in
that or any other direction; secondly, because I had always a crowd of
more important matters to look after, and, perhaps, was inclined to
indolence in the "_dolce far niente_" respecting things of less
consequence to myself; and thirdly, in chief, because, albeit I have
seen and heard a few of the petty miracles (avouched for otherwise by
thousands of better witnesses) inexplicable to my own reason, I yet
entirely abjure and renounce this so-called spiritualism as any part of
my personal belief. In particular, it seems to me quite an inconclusion
to give to the spirits of the dead, or to any other existences, good or
evil (unless, indeed, by possibility to ourselves as magnetically and
sympathetically influenced by some metaphysical potencies whereof we
know next to nothing), the seemingly miraculous powers exhibited,
however weakly and childishly, in numberless _seances_, privileged to
possess among the company an ecstatic medium between (as is assumed)
themselves and beings immaterial.
The little I have seen and heard shall, however, now, upon a reasonable
call, be related simply and honestly, without any theory beyond what is
parenthetically alluded to in my last sentence, and with no attempt at
explanation, but only the expression of this truth, viz., that no
collusion apparently was possible (according to my judgment) in any of
the following manifestations, and that I promise only to state plain
facts, however, others may seek to expound them. Of course, where
cunning and dishonesty may contrive conjuring tricks it is not worth
while to treat such "manifestations" seriously, but I speak of what
seemed to be genuine, if trifling, marvels.
To begin, then, with my earliest experience, written down the same
evening, and sent to the _Brighton Gazette_, from which I give an
extract. The date is Thursday, January 25th, 1849; the host, the late
Mr. Howell, of Hove; the performer, Alexis, pupil of M. Marcillet, who
accompanied him. After clairvoyance, induced by passes, Alexis is
blindfolded carefully, and then, with the host's own pack of cards, wins
blindfolded at games of ecarte with myself. Next, a French book, brought
by an incredulous physician, was placed open upon the forehead of
Alexis, who read aloud some lines of it. This experiment, with
variations, was several times repeated. The third was my own test. I had
sealed up something unknown to all the world but myself in twelve
envelopes of white paper. Alexis, placing the parcel on his forehead, in
broken and difficult enunciation, said "it was writing, two names, both
commencing with M; one of them an English name, the other French, or
some language not English; that the first contained four letters, the
second six (being really nine)," but he failed to give the names, which
were Mary Magdalene. It was suggested that if they had been written in
French his mind might have more easily discerned them. After this,
several locks of hair and sealed-up parcels, watches, and lockets, were
(with some unsuccessful attempts) guessed at, seemingly to the
satisfaction of the ladies and gentlemen who had respectively brought
them for explanation. The last experiment regarded a large bon-bon box
covered up, in which the host himself had concealed a mystery. Alexis
described it as wrapped in several folds, graven all round, oval, a
portrait of a young person of eighteen, but done a long time ago, set in
gold, "femme habillee en blanc; elle est morte, la tete au droit." In
all these respects the object was faithfully described, in particular to
the "long time ago," which, by a date on the portrait, was found to be
1769. And there were some other experiments, but Alexis, as appearing to
be well-nigh worn out with mental exertion, was then mercifully
unmesmerised.
I may mention, by the way, that the said host at whose house Alexis
attended was a firm believer in the power of the human will, and as
connected therewith, in mesmerism, whereby he used to cure people of
headaches and other infirmities; and, at length, through his
philanthropic and energetic attraction to himself of other folks'
disorders (for he fancied he imbibed for his own behoof the pains he
drained _ab extra_), he unhappily became a paralytic, dying not long
after. One of his less perilous attempts at the miraculous, I remember
was this: he brought a street Arab into his drawing-room, and put a
half-crown down on the carpet for him to pick up if he could, and keep
for himself; however, this the boy found, to his wonderment, to be
practically impossible, seeing that Mr. Howell had secretly willed that
he could not and should not pick up the prize. But such efforts of a
man's strong will are well evidenced in numerous other instances, and
serve to prove that no spiritual interferences beyond our noble selves
are essential to such mysteries.
Amongst other reminiscences of the marvellous, I may refer to a private
exhibition in the Berners Street Hotel, to which I was invited by Mrs.
Washington Phillips (of whom more anon), to investigate Mr. Vernon's
influence over a little girl some twelve years old. The child's
specialty was an alleged capability of reading without eyesight, the
back of her head low down on the nape doing duty in the way of vision.
To omit numerous other successful examples (some failing, which I
thought so far evidences of the absence of collusion), I will detail my
own conclusive experiment. But let me anticipate an objection relating
to the exhibitor himself. Some of our party, a very distinguished one,
and known to each other, kept Mr. Vernon in conversation at a distance,
while the child was reading our thoughts, or the actual words of print
unknown to ourselves, quite independently of his manipulations; he
having first comatised her into a mesmeric state of trance. The invited
guests were told, as in the Alexis case, that we might bring our own
tests; and I had put into my pocket a small volume of Milton, from which
she might read on the nape of her neck, if she could. We had previously
bandaged her eyes, even to plaistering them up; and were only bidden to
be careful not to let the handkerchief cover the place of reverted
seeing on her neck. I stood behind the child, and, without knowing where
I opened my little Milton, placed the expanded volume on the back of her
head; and forthwith, slowly and with difficulty, as a child might, she
read two lines of blank verse, which I and all immediately verified!
Now, I state a fact which I cannot explain; for I myself had not seen
the lines, so my own brain was not read: neither could Mr. Vernon nor
any one else have been concerned in the matter. I believe this sort of
thing to be well-known to spiritualists, and they may, for aught I know,
refer it to angelic or necromantic interposition: whereas, what
physicians tell us of hypochondria is, perhaps, a mysterious explanation
nearer the mark.
The same child, refreshed into an abnormal ecstasy, taking the hands of
several of our party professed to read their thoughts, with admitted
success in some instances. With me she failed, but then I was not
considered _en rapport_. Female believers are always much more
susceptible than masculine sceptics. However, I certainly had proof of
the child's marvellous power in this slight matter following. Two young
ladies had successfully brought her in spirit, into their mother's
drawing-room in Berkeley Square, the child graphically explaining all
she saw as she was mentally led along, and on being asked if she noticed
anything new and pretty on the mantel-piece, she got up and placed
herself in an attitude of dancing, and she said there was a figure and
it was clothed in lace. This was true; it was a bisque statuette of
Taglioni. On being led round the room, still in spirit and
clairvoyante, the child strangely described wax-flowers under a glass,
and laughed heartily at "Taffy riding his goat,"--a china ornament which
she could have known nothing of.
With respect to the lady who invited us, I can relate a strange story
wherewith the Brighton doctors in 1848 were familiar. Mrs. P. had an
invalid daughter subject to violent headaches, and as she had read of
the remedial powers of mesmerism from Chauncey Townsend's book,
privately resolved to try and cure her, and soon set her to sleep by the
usual "passes." However, when after twelve and even eighteen hours the
girl could not be awakened, Mrs. P. and her husband (a clergyman, who
knew nothing of the cause) were alarmed and summoned doctor after
doctor, to wake her, if they could. But all was in vain, until some one
turning to the peccant and magical volume found that by the simple
process of reversing the passes the abnormal slumber might be made to
cease. This was done at once, and all came more than right, for the girl
woke up without her usual headache, and was cured from that hour. At
this time of day, after thirty years and more, society having become
wiser, and bur medical men more physiologically hygienic, we all now wot
of mesmerism, and innumerable cases of cure through that mysterious form
of catalepsy.
For another small experience, I have several times been among a crowd of
others at public exhibitions of those who speak off-hand in prose or
verse, "inspirationally" as they call it, but as the outer world prefer
to believe, improvisatorially, and certainly amid such gifted persons
Mrs. Cora Tappan stands out prominently in my memory. At the Brighton
Pavilion I gave her for a theme to be versified on the spot extempore
my own heraldic motto, "L'espoir est ma force," and to my astonishment,
in a burst of rhymed eloquence she rolled off at least a dozen four-line
stanzas on Hope and its spiritual power. Some one else among the
audience gave the subject of cremation, and forthwith the lady descanted
with terrific force on funeral pyres and the horrors of Gehenna; whilst
a male performer affected to personate sundry well-known dead orators of
past days (for as the inspirers were supposed to be disembodied spirits
no living orators were allowable), and he certainly imitated both voices
and topics with singular success. But everybody has heard of this sort
of thing, sufficiently remarkable as a mental effort; and we have all
similarly witnessed the more material marvels of Maskelyne and Cook,
known to be mechanical contrivances which are still riddles to the
world.
Again, there are those who draw and paint in a condition of spiritual
ecstasy; and I remember visiting a public exhibition in Bond Street,
exclusively of most curious and intricate pictures, asserted to have
been inspired by dead artists, some being elaborate flourishings of
scenes and figures, said to be thus depicted as with lightning speed. As
to living artists, there are in existence several excitable youths and
damsels who write and draw very rapidly in an ecstatic state; and I
myself possess a dreamy conglomerate of microscopic faces crowded
together, and stated to have been drawn thus instantaneously to prove to
us "the cloud of witnesses," "the innumerable company of angels," by
whom we are continually surrounded.
I pretermit with brief mention sundry inexplicable wonders, such as
those wherewith the spiritualistic papers are frequently full, only
stating that I was one of those who investigated the case of the Rev.
Mr. Vaughan's pew-opener, at St. James's, Brighton, whose daughter was
thought to be "bewitched." Certainly, strange knockings accompanied her
when she came in at my call, much like those I heard many years ago at
Rochester, U.S.; and her mother (a pious and credible widow) assured me,
with tears of unfeigned anxiety, that the chairs and stools followed her
about!--a statement only half credible, when we reflect that there is an
animal magnetism as well as a mineral one, and that we know nothing of
the reasons of either. Our ignorance on such matters is so profound that
we may fairly be credulous unless we obstinately refuse altogether our
belief in human testimony; but if we dare to do this, higher interests
are endangered than spiritualistics. Our religion is mainly based upon
credible evidence.
There is certainly much that is mysterious in the toy they call
"Planchette," a triangular thin slab of polished wood on a couple of
small wheels, with a pencil at the apex. Hands laids upon this by two
persons properly conditioned, will give apparent vitality and volition
to the small machine, and make the pencil seem to write of itself in
answer to expressed (or meditated) questions. At a wealthy mansion in
South Kensington, for instance, I saw two charming young Italian ladies,
sisters, covering rapidly sheet after sheet with the abstrusest essays
on occult subjects, given to them to write upon inspirationally; and the
chief wonder was (as a learned friend by me well observed) where the
knowledge came from, so seemingly infused into two unscientific young
girls. Afterwards the said learned friend tried Planchette with me, and
we were considerably startled to find that when I asked of the
so-called spirits, "What think ye of Christ?" the pencil under our
unconsciously-guided hands made answer, "With the utmost reverence!" I
need not assure mankind that neither my friend nor I (both incredulous
and unwilling witnesses) lent ourselves or one another to any deception,
and were mentally inclined, if at all, to the expectation that the
"spirits" might rather blaspheme than bless. It is right to mention
that, beyond the pair of young ladies and our two selves, only the host
and hostess were in the room; of whom I have this further wonder to
report, viz., that the host, whom I must not specify by name without his
leave, is afflicted with blindness, notwithstanding which and his
alleged incompetence towards poetry as an old naval officer, his wife
showed me several copybooks full of blank verse written by him in a hand
unlike his own, and supposed by them to be inspired by Young, as a
continuation of his "Night Thoughts." The captain and his lady also told
us how frequently flowers and sweetmeats (!) were showered on them from
the ceiling at their domestic dual _seances_: and on another occasion a
lady showed my wife and me a paper of seed pearls, alleged to have been
flung into her lap from the heavens--through the ceiling--by her
departed lord and master! Similarly, a lady well known in the
professedly spiritualistic circles, deposited round her chair, in the
dark, at Mr. S.C. Hall's, a profusion of bouquets--probably from Covent
Garden;--and that, notwithstanding the hostess had herself searched the
lady before the _seance_, as it was known that Mrs. G's special gift
from the spirits was the multitudinous creation of flowers! Really,
there must be a stand somewhere made to credulity; but, at all events,
the venerable host and hostess believed this, on what seemed to them
reasonable evidence, and quite forgave me for not believing it too.
And this brings me, naturally enough, to give a detailed account of the
two best and last _seances_ I ever took the trouble to attend; for I
have, during many years, entirely avoided such exhibitions, as generally
childish, mentally unwholesome, and to some people dangerously
seductive. I had several times asked my worthy friends last alluded to,
to give me and a friend of mine, a lieutenant in the Royal Navy, the
privilege of "assisting" at a _seance_ under their experienced guidance:
and accordingly we were invited to meet Mr. Home, the high priest of
spiritualism, a quiet, well-mannered gentlemanly person enough, known to
our host from his birth. The other guests were a countess, the widow of
a colonel, and a distinguished physician; in all we numbered eight. My
friend and I were requested privately, by our host, to conceal our
probable incredulity if we desired the favour of the "spirits" in the
way of manifestations; and as these were what we came for, besides our
own polite desire to do at Rome as the Romans do, we readily assented to
the reasonable request. After the usual greetings and small talk of the
day, and tea and coffee and so forth, we all took seats round the
drawing-room circular table, a very weighty one, as I proved afterwards,
on a gigantic central pillar, and covered with a heavy piece of velvet
tapestry; and before commencing the special business we came for, I was
pleased to hear our host propose that we should all kneel round the
table and offer up prayer: this he did, simply and beautifully, in some
words, extemporary, closing with a Church collect and the Lord's
Prayer. On my expressed approval of this course, when we rose, Mr. Home
said it was always his custom, as a precautionary measure against the
self-intrusion of evil spirits: admittedly a wisdom, even if it seemed
somewhat unwise and perilous to be more or less courting the company of
such unpleasant guests, if a _seance_ (as experienced afterwards) did
not happen to be made safe by exorcism. And now the gaslights bracketed
round the room were put as low as possible, making a dim, religious
semi-darkness; however, as there was a bright fire in the grate, and
some small scintillae of gas, and one's eyesight soon gets accustomed to
any diminution of light, we could soon see nearly as well as usual. This
"gloaming" is a common condition in _seances_, and for aught any one
knows may be an electrical _sine qua non_ as needed for animal
magnetism; albeit some paid professionals may possibly find darkness a
very useful veil for cheatery. While we were chatting round the
table,--and Mr. Home enjoined this as better than the silent sobriety I
looked for--suddenly the table shuddered, and a cold wind swept over our
hands laid upon it. "They are coming now," said Mr. Home, which
everybody seemed glad of, though that cold wind felt to me not a little
"uncanny," but I said nothing in disparagement, for fear of stopping a
"manifestation." Soon loud knocks were heard, apparently from the middle
of the table, and on sundry spirits being alleged to be present, Mr.
Home proceeded to question them through the ordinary clumsy fashion, of
the alphabet, and some unimportant answers were elicited, which I fail
to remember and in common honesty must not invent. We were soon to see
stranger things; and I suppose the _seance_ was exceptionally
successful, as I afterwards noticed some of it in print. For while we
were looking and expecting, suddenly the table began to tilt this way
and that, and then as if by an effort the ponderous mass, with all our
hands still upon the velvet pall, positively mounted slowly into the
air, insomuch that we were obliged to rise from our chairs and stand to
reach the surface. I could see it at least two feet from the carpet, and
Mr. Home invited me to take especial notice that none of the company
could possibly be lifting the table; indeed, the strength of all of us
combined would have been barely enough for such a heavy task. Of course,
every one else but myself and friend supposed that the "spirits" had
kindly done this miracle to please us; but I unfortunately said "Oh!
Mrs. Hall! it will crush your chandelier!" (one of Venice glass, very
precious)--at which unbelieving remark, probably, the spirits took
umbrage, for at once the table ceased ascending, and with a slow
oscillation descended very gently on to the carpet. This sort of petty
miracle is a frequent experience among the spiritualists, and how it is
effected I cannot imagine. There could be no contrivance or machinery in
our host's drawing-room, as must be the case imitatively at the Egyptian
Hall; none of the company could be conspiring to deceive, and more than
all, that huge, heavy table rising up against the law of gravitation was
enough to chase away all incredulity. One fact is stronger than fifty
theories; and one reliable success overweighs a thousand failures. I
testify to that which I have seen.
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