The wonders of optics/The phantasmagoria

3544819The wonders of optics — The phantasmagoriaCharles W. QuinFulgence Marion

CHAPTER II.

THE PHANTASMAGORIA.


The phantasmagoria may be described as a perfected magic lantern, and bears the same relation to its prototype that a shilling telescope bought in the Lowther Arcade does to one of Dollond's or Ross's field glasses. The position of the spectators, too, is different, being on the other side of the scene which receives the magnified pictures, already described when speaking of the magic lantern.

The phantasmagoria lantern is generally mounted on a stand provided with castors so that it may be moved about at will. It consists of a box as represented in fig. 52, inclosing a lamp with a metallic reflector, the bundle of rays being sent through the centre of the tube containing the slide and lenses, as before described. The chimney serves to carry off the products of combustion generated by the lamp. In fig. 53 we have shown the interior of the tube containing the lenses. Between this tube and the body of the lantern there is a space within which slide the glasses whereon are painted the figures and landscapes that are to be thrown on the white screen. The luminous rays given off by the reflector in the interior of the lantern pass through a plano-convex lens placed with the flat side outwards. In front comes the double convex lens, or object-glass, which can be moved backwards and forwards by means of a rack and pinion. There is also a movable diaphragm, which is worked with a couple of cords, by pulling which the aperture is made larger or smaller at will. By moving the lantern backwards and forwards, working The Phantasmagoria.
Fig. 52.—The Phantasmagoria.
the rack and pinion and the diaphragm at the same time, the view seen by the spectator seems to advance and recede. The pictures are painted on glass with transparent colours, the glasses being generally about five inches in diameter. To render the illusion perfect it is necessary that the spectator should be placed in a partially dark room, being separated from the operator by the screen already mentioned. Everything being ready, the spectators having but little notion of the distance of the screen, a very small picture is shown to them first, the illumination being reduced to a minimum by pulling the cords which act on the diaphragm. The little picture first seen by them will appear to be situated at an enormous distance; but as the lantern is brought almost imperceptibly nearer to the screen, the image appears to advance towards them in a very surprising The Fantascope.
Fig. 53.—The Fantascope.
manner, at last appearing almost as if it were going to fall upon the spectators.

Robertson, an English optician who was settled in Paris some fifty years since, was one of the first to exhibit the phantasmagoria with success. In order to obtain the best results he used a room some sixty or eighty feet long, and twenty-four wide, which he hung entirely with black. Of this a strip twenty-five feet long was cut off and devoted to the manipulation of the phantasmagoria. This portion of the apartment was separated from the spectators by a white calico screen, tightly strained from side to side, and at first concealed from view by a black curtain. The calico screen, which was about twenty feet square, was well soaked in a mixture of starch and fine gum arabic, in order to render it semi-transparent. The floor was raised about four or five feet at one end in order that the whole of the spectators might have a free and uninterrupted view of what was going on.

It is undoubtedly to Robertson that we owe most of the improvements in the phantasmagoria. The success of his performances in Paris during the first Revolution has never been equalled by any similar exhibition. The enthusiasm excited amongst the Parisian public at the time surpassed that awakened even by Cagliostro and Mesmer. The spirit which guided Robertson in exhibiting these wonders was totally opposed to that which animated the two charlatans just mentioned. Robertson, unlike them, sought to spread the notion that there was nothing occult or supernatural in the marvels he exhibited, but that they resulted simply from the application of a few simple laws of optics. We shall presently give an account of one these famous séances, which were powerful enough to distract the attention of the people of that day from the stormy events that were going on around them; but we will first allow our author to tell the story of his experiments in optics in his own words.

"From my very earliest infancy," he says in his Memoirs, "my lively and passionate imagination caused me to be dominated over by the marvellous in a very powerful manner. Anything that seemed to go beyond nature in any way, excited in me an ardour which then appeared to me capable of overcoming all obstacles in order to realize the effects I had conceived. Father Kircher, it was said, believed that the magic lantern was the invention of the Evil One. All the worse for Father Kircher, who was gifted with a great intellect, and many persons were tempted to say that he might possibly have some cause for believing in the diabolical origin of a simple optical instrument. But as the writer who has thus reproached Father Kircher with too much credulity has not cited those passages of the work in which this statement may be found, I did not think seriously of the matter. Who has not in his younger days believed in witches, hobgoblins, and compacts with the devil? I know I did, and worse; for I imagined and fully believed that an innocent old woman who was a neighbour of ours, really had dealings with Lucifer, as every one asserted. I even went so far as to envy her the power of conferring with the Evil One, and once shut myself up in my room with an unhappy live cock, whose head I cut off in the most barbarous manner, having heard that that was the most approved manner of summoning into one's presence the great head of all the demons. I waited for him several hours, calling on him to appear, threatening to deny his existence for the future if he did not appear, but all to no purpose. The books on magic and the black art that I had read had completely turned my head. I believed everything that was in them, and I desired ardently to perform the wonders they described, even with the aid of the devil. The Magia Naturalis of Porta, and the Recreations of Midorge, which treated simply of natural phenomena, had no effect upon me, but I was at last obliged to fall back on the principles involved in them, in order to create the diabolical appearances I had sought after in what I considered a truly supernatural manner, until at, last my dwelling became a true Pandemonium.

"It is only our grandmothers, it has been said for a long time, who believe in magic, witches, and supernatural appearances; but the statement is hardly true, seeing how easily the country people fall a prey to the first cheat who chooses to invest himself with supernatural powers. We have sufficiently ridiculed the superstitions of the ancients, and numberless instances may be adduced which are a shame to their intelligence, and which gives, so to speak, a denial to the stories we have heard of their high state of civilization. But I believe, if we were to make a collection of all the stories of ghosts, of mysterious appearances, of communications between the living and the departed, of the discoveries of hidden treasures, &c., &c., which have taken place even since the Revolution, before whose power so many dark things have been brought to light, the collection would hardly be less bulky than that of the ancient superstitions now happily passed away."

Robertson then goes on to take great credit to himself for showing the world that all the superstitions concerning ghosts, spectral appearances, and other illusions of a similar nature, were to be easily accomplished, by simply studying natural laws. He appears first to have begun his optical experiments with the solar microscope, and we hear of his landlord taking an action against him to recover damages for having pierced the doors of his rooms with innumerable holes. He studied the subject both theoretically and practically for many years, in company with his friend Villette, and at last announced a public séance at the Pavillon de l'Echiquier at Paris. A multitude of advertisements and prospectuses, written in the high-flown style of the time, were issued, and distributed throughout the city. The newspapers of the day are full of accounts of the extraordinary impression made on the minds of the Parisians by Robertson's wonderful exhibition. The old-fashioned word magic lantern was quite abandoned, and the new and high sounding Greek appellation, "phantasmagoria," was heard issuing from every one's mouth. There is an amusing account given of Robertson's exhibition in one of the contemporary journals, written by Poultier, one of the representatives of the people. He says: "A decemvir of the republic has said that the dead return no more, but go to Robertson's exhibition and you will soon be convinced of the contrary, for you will see the dead returning to life in crowds. Robertson calls forth phantoms, and commands legions of spectres. In a well-lighted apartment in the Pavillon de l'Echiquier I found myself seated a few evenings since, with some sixty or seventy people. At seven o'clock a pale thin man entered the room where we were sitting, and having extinguished the candles he said: 'Citizens and gentlemen, I am not one of those adventurers and impudent swindlers who promise more than they can perform. I have assured the public in the Journal de Paris that I can bring the dead to life, and I shall do so. Those of the company who desire to see the apparitions of those who were dear to them, but who have passed away from this life by sickness or otherwise, have only to speak, and I shall obey their commands.' There was a moment's silence, and a haggard looking man, with dishevelled hair and sorrowful eyes, rose in the midst of the assemblage and exclaimed, 'As I have been unable in an official journal to re-establish the worship of Marat, I should at least be glad to see his shadow.' Robertson immediately threw upon a brasier containing lighted coals, two glasses of blood, a bottle of vitriol, a few drops of aquafortis, and two numbers of the Journal des Hommes Libres, and there instantly appeared in the midst of the smoke caused by the burning of these substances, a hideous livid phantom armed with a dagger and wearing a red cap of liberty. The man at whose wish the phantom had been evoked seemed to recognise Marat, and rushed forward to embrace the vision, but the ghost made a frightful grimace and disappeared. A young man next asked to see the phantom of a young lady whom he had tenderly loved, and whose portrait he showed to the worker of all these marvels. Robertson threw on the brasier a few sparrow's feathers, a grain or two of phosphorus, and a dozen butterflies. A beautiful woman, with her bosom uncovered and her hair floating about her, soon appeared, and smiled on the young man with the most tender regard and sorrow. A grave-looking individual sitting close by me suddenly exclaimed 'Heavens! it's my wife come to life again,' and he rushed from the room, apparently fearing that what he saw was not a phantom.

A Swiss asked to see the shade of William Tell. The phantom of the great archer was evoked with apparently as much ease as the others. Delille, who was present, called for Virgil, whose Georgics he had lately translated. The poet appeared, having in his hand a laurel crown, which he held out to his French commentator. Many other equally extraordinary apparitions were shown at the will of various individuals in the audience, and towards the end of the evening Robertson showed his judgment, and under very difficult circumstances. A royalist who was present asked for the phantom of Louis XVI., the appearance of which would no doubt have raised a tumult amongst so many red-hot Republicans, had not Robertson replied that before the 18th Fructidor, the day on which the French republic declared that royalty was abolished for ever, he had had a receipt for bringing dead kings to life again, but that same day he lost it, and feared that he should never recover it again. The answer was said to have been whispered to Robertson by his friend Ponthieu, who saw the difficulty he was in. It was supposed that the demand was prompted by an agent of the police, who for some cause had a spite against Robertson. In any case the affair made such a noise that the next day the exhibition was prohibited by those in authority, and seals were placed upon the optician's boxes and papers. The exhibition was, however, afterwards allowed to be continued, and was so successful that it had to be transferred to the old Capuchin convent near the Place Vendôme.

The whole of Paris rang with eulogiums upon Robertson's wonderful exhibition at the Capuchin Convent. He had purposely chosen the abandoned chapel, which was in the middle of a vast cloister crowded with tombs and funereal tablets. It was approached by a series of dark passages, decorated with weird and mysterious paintings, and the very door was covered with hieroglyphics. The chapel itself was hung with black, and was feebly illuminated by a single sepulchral lamp. The whole assembly involuntarily remained grave and silent, and it was only when the first preparations for the exhibition were made, that the audience broke into a low murmur. Robertson commenced with an address on sorcery, magicians, witches, ghosts, and phantoms, and, having worked the spectators up to the proper pitch, he suddenly extinguished the single antique lamp already mentioned, plunging the assembly into perfect darkness. Then there arose a storm of rain, wind, thunder, and lightning. The bells tolled lugubriously as if summoning the dead from their tombs beneath the feet of those present; the wind whistled mournfully, the rain fell in torrents, the thunder rolled, and the lightnings flashed. But suddenly above all this confusion were heard the sweet notes of a harmonium, and in the far-off distance the sky was seen clearing gradually. A luminous point then made its appearance in the midst of the clouds, which gradually became the figure of a man, increasing in size every instant, until it seemed to be about to precipitate itself on to the spectators. A man in the front row was so frightened, that he uttered a scream of terror, when the phantom instantly disappeared. A series of spectres then issued suddenly from a cave. The shades of great men crowded together round a boat floating on a black and sluggish river, which the spectators had no difficulty in identifying as the Styx. The shadows gradually disappeared in the distance, getting smaller and smaller until they became invisible.

Robertson was extremely careful in all his entertainments to flatter the popular ideas of the day. For instance, one of his most famous exhibitions consisted in a picture of a tomb, in the middle of which Robespierre issued. The figure, as usual, walked towards the spectators; but when apparently within a few yards of them, it was struck down by lightning. Voltaire, Lavoisier, Rousseau, and other popular favourites then appeared on the scene, and disappeared again in the usual manner. Robertson generally ended his entertainment with an address something like the following:—

"We have now seen together the wonderful mysteries of the phantasmagoria. I have unveiled to you the secrets of the priests of Memphis. I have shown you every mystery of optical science; you have witnessed scenes that in the ages of credulity would have been considered supernatural. You have, perhaps, many of you, laughed at what I have shown you, and the gentler portion of my audience have possibly been terrified at many of my phantoms; but I can assure you, whoever you may be, powerful or weak, strong or feeble, believers or atheists, that there is but one truly terrible spectacle—the fate which is reserved for us all;" and at that instant a grisly skeleton was seen standing in the middle of the hall (fig. 54).

Even in those unbelieving days, when scepticism of

Fig. 54.—Phantasmagoria (Robertson).

every sort was riding rough-shod over the French people,

Robertson had the greatest difficulty in disclaiming all approach to the possession of supernatural powers. Day after day he received applications from all quarters to reveal the secrets of the past, present, and future, to describe events that were passing in other countries; and it frequently happened, that after his entertainments, he would be asked by several members of his auditory to assist them in recovering property that had been lost or stolen from them. In the latter kind of cases he generally used to adopt the excellent plan of sending his would-be clients to the nearest police-office.