Maggie and Kate Fox’s parents didn’t know what to make of the strange rappings coming from their daughters’ bedroom that memorable evening in March of 1848. They could hardly have imagined the cascade of events that would be unleashed by the explanation the girls offered for the mysterious sounds.
The sisters claimed to have mimicked the mysterious rappings they heard in their Hydesville, N.Y., home and were shocked when their raps were then responded to by an equal number of raps. With the sounds having no obvious source, the girls told their mother they must have accidentally made contact with a spirit.
Somewhat amused, the mother supposedly blurted out, “Spirit, are you here?” She was stunned when a loud rap rang out!
Soon the spirit was responding to all sorts of questions with one rap for “yes” and two raps for “no.” Neighbors heard of the strange happenings, asked the spirit questions of their own, and received answers. Within days, with a plethora of yes and no answers, the spirit identified itself as belonging to a peddler who had been murdered years earlier and had been buried in the basement.
The story quickly spread, and before long the girls were mystifying crowds at public séances, conjuring up spirits that communicated through raps. And so began the movement known as spiritualism that would be embraced by a Victorian society eager to contact the dearly departed.
“Spirit rappings” quickly became a craze.
In Buffalo, not far from Hydesville, young brothers Ira and William Davenport became intrigued by reports about the Fox sisters’ antics and decided to get in on the game. By 1855, they were demonstrating their version of contact with the spirit world. Tables inexplicably tilted, and musical instruments played with unseen hands.
The brothers scooted to fame when they had a brilliant idea in response to a public challenge that they must be using confederates. They constructed a “spirit cabinet” in which they would be enclosed after being tied up with ropes by audience members, along with various musical instruments apparently totally out of their reach. Yet, when the cabinet’s doors were closed, bells, guitars, and tambourines would mysteriously play, and spirit hands would appear through openings. When the doors of the cabinet doors were finally opened, the brothers were seen to be sitting in their original positions, still bound by the ropes.
Before long, the Davenports transformed their demonstration of spiritualism into a full stage show with which they toured the U.S. for a decade. By then their fame had spread to England, and in 1864 they began an English tour that became mired in controversy about whether they were just clever escape artists or real spiritual mediums. The brothers themselves never actually claimed to communicate with the dead and left audiences to come to their own conclusion, although the performances were certainly accompanied by the trappings of spiritualism.
On March 9, 1865, their performance in the English town of Cheltenham was attended by John Nevil Maskelyne, a young watchmaker who, as an amateur magician, was familiar with deceit. Maskelyne was skeptical of the Davenports’ supposed contact with the spirit world and thought he could reproduce their act and make clear to the audience that no spirits were involved.
With his friend George Alfred Cooke, Maskelyne duplicated the spirit cabinet and described the Davenports as nothing more than clever escape artists. Maskelyne did not achieve the devastating exposure he had hoped for, and the Davenports continued to tour throughout Europe, New Zealand and Australia until 1877, when William died at the young age of 36.
However, Maskelyne’s and Cooke’s attempts to discredit the Davenports launched their careers as magicians. They began to add various conjuring tricks and illusions to the spirit cabinet exposé and toured Britain with a modicum of success until 1873, when they appeared at the famed Egyptian Hall in London, which turned into an incredible 31-year run!
And what a run it was. Maskelyne, who was familiar with mechanisms of all sorts from his watchmaking days — and had an aptitude for engineering — introduced some of the most famous illusions in magical history, many of which are still performed today.
An act first called the “substitution trunk,” later renamed “metamorphosis,” began by tying up Cooke with a rope and locking him inside the trunk. Maskelyne stood on top of the trunk and lifted a cloth to hide himself. He dropped the cloth almost immediately, and Cooke appeared in his place. When the trunk was opened, Maskelyne was inside, tied up just as Cooke had been.
Harry Houdini would make “metamorphosis” world famous, and numerous magicians perform it today. The Guinness Book of Records lists the Pendragons, a husband-and-wife team, as the record holders for speed, performing the exchange in less than a second.
Maskelyne is also credited with inventing the levitation illusion in which an assistant lying on a couch would rise up into the air with the aid of a mechanism hidden from the audience. His motivation was a widely circulating account of spiritual medium Daniel Dunglas Home floating out a third-floor window and reappearing through another window, supposedly documented by witnesses.
Maskelyne’s levitation was performed on a fully lit stage with the magician clearly stating that no paranormal assistance was involved. Belgian illusionist Servais Le Roy would later improve upon the floating lady effect. An assistant covered with a cloth apparently rose into the air, and when the cloth was whisked away, the assistant had vanished!
Spectators at the Egyptian Hall were also treated to another Maskelyne invention. “Psycho,” a mechanical figure in oriental robes, sat atop a glass cylinder and managed to play card games with an audience member despite there apparently being no possible connection with the surroundings. The magician also used his mechanical ingenuity to invent the coin-operated lock used in British public toilets that gave rise to the expression “spend a penny” for going to the loo. Maskelyne’s run at the Egyptian Hall was really the prototype for the magic shows that still amaze audiences around the globe.
In 1888, perhaps with pangs of guilt, then-55-year-old Maggie Fox would demonstrate how the sisters had discovered that they could make rapping sounds by cracking the joints in their toes and feet, a discovery that catapulted them to fame. Although she would later attempt to recant her admission and get back to performing séances, the cat was out of the bag. But what we do have here is a fascinating example of how a trick played by a pair of young girls on their parents spawned a cascade of events that changed history.
# Reprinted with permission. Dr. Schwarcz’s original article can be found on the OSS website
Lightly edited for clarity and accuracy
Joe Schwarcz
Dr. Joe Schwarcz is Director of McGill University's “Office for Science and Society” which has the mission of separating sense from nonsense. He is well known for his informative and entertaining public lectures on topics ranging from the chemistry of food to the connection between the body and the mind.
