Via Newspapers.com

This peculiar--and very sad--story appeared in the “Washington Post,” November 10, 1909:

Somerville, N.J. Nov 9. While Arthur Everton, self-styled professor and traveling hypnotist sobbed in his cell, three calm medical men witnessed a weird performance in the morgue of the Somerset Hospital late this afternoon.  There William E. Davenport, secretary to the mayor of Newark and a student of hypnotism, vainly tried to bring back signs of life in the rigid body of Robert Simpson, a former street car conductor of Newark who apparently died last night after having been put Into a hypnotic trance by Everton before a large audience at the Somerville Theater. 

Davenport failed. Simpson was declared officially dead and an autopsy was held tonight. This disclosed a rupture of the aorta. 

Meanwhile, charged with manslaughter, unnerved and shaken, Everton remains in prison where he must await the action of the grand jury as a sequel to a stage trick familiar throughout this country and abroad.

It was at the piteous insistence of Everton, while in jail after his ineffectual attempts to revive Simpson, that Davenport, a friend of Everton, came into the case today. Notwithstanding the declarations of physicians that Simpson was dead, Everton asked that Davenport be allowed to try to rouse him. Accordingly the autopsy first arranged for 2 o’clock this afternoon was postponed and the student of hypnotism was summoned.

Just as the sun was sinking Davenport arrived in Somerville accompanied by the manager of the Arcade, an amusement place in Newark where Everton had performed last week.  At the hospital they were met by W.H. Long, county physician, and three members of the hospital staff, Drs. Pecht, Stilweil, and Halstead. Davenport explained to them that he had long been a student of hypnotics, that he practiced it only as a student and that he had come in response to a pupil’s cry for help, and would, with the doctor's permission, attempt to revive the subject, Simpson.

Dr. Long, for himself and the members of the staff, said that they had not only agreed that the experiment should be permitted but that it might be made they had postponed the autopsy. In their opinion, Everton’s subject was dead. Besides the physicians there crowded into the room four of the women nurses of the hospital in their white caps and nurse uniforms, Mrs. Everton, the correspondent of The Post and a reporter for a local paper.

Mr. Davenport, after laying aside his coat and hat, pulled the black covering off the body and applied his ear to the chest as if listening for heartbeats. Then he slightly opened the eyes of the man and after bringing his own eyes close to them looked into them intently.  Dr. Halstead, standing close by the body, took the one electric lamp in his hand and swung it out so that more light brightly shone on the white still face. 

Davenport was manifestly sincere in what he was doing. He was impressed with Everton’s belief and he had been moved by the tearful appeals of Everton’s wife. His manner affected all those who silently watched him. The little room was in absolute silence as Davenport again applied first his ear and then the tips of his fingers over the motionless heart. Next he bent his head down low over the head above the black cloth, placed his lips close to an ear of the body he sought to revive, and said sharply and eagerly, “Bob!” 

It was a trained voice, the voice of a man drilled to shock or command the senses, and it startled without moving the intent group of watchers.

“Bob! Your heart!”  There was another silence as tensely dramatic as the mind can imagine. Then followed the words, “Bob! Your heart! Your heart is beating!” 

If after the sound of the operator’s voice the subject's eyelids moved it seemed as if none there would have been greatly surprised.

But there was no motion. But the operator eagerly felt again over the heart and again listened and then again spoke into the unhearing ear. 

“Bob! Listen! Hear what I say! Your heart! Your heart is beating!” 

There was no response, no movement of the eyelids, no fluttering of the heart, and Davenport motioned to the manager under whom Everton had exhibited last week. He stepped to the side of the body and repeated the phrase Davenport had used. After that Davenport pressed upon the breast as If artificially to start a movement of the heart and then spoke into the other ear. 

“Bob!” Now there was an accent of pleading--”Bob! You hear me! Your heart is moving!” 

Davenport stepped a little aside, looked at the unseeing half-open eyes, took up his coat and hat and with a bow to the doctors started to leave the room. As he passed Dr. Long the latter said, “What is your judgment?”

“I did not come here to pronounce judgment,” Davenport responded quietly, and followed by the Newark manager and by Mrs. Everton walked out of the room, up the stairs, through the hall, and out onto the veranda of the hospital. There he was overtaken by a messenger and recalled. 

Dr. Long spoke to the man again.

“Do you think he is dead?” he said. 

“I think he is dead,” Davenport replied.

Then Davenport went out, and the medical men began preparations for the autopsy.  

Eight physicians assisted in performing the autopsy, and they issued a signed statement at its close stating that death was due to rupture of the aorta, the trunk line of the arterial system. This indicated, according to the coroner, that death primarily was due to natural causes, and that the man probably had been suffering for some time from an aneurysm. A generally weakened condition of the organs through the dead man’s body was found and the physicians were disposed to attribute this to habitual drinking.

Death was practically instantaneous and probably occurred just as Simpson was coming out of the trance. Whether the strain he was put under when Everton stood on his body during his rigidity caused the rupture cannot be ascertained. The result of the autopsy will more than likely bring about Everton's release on bail.

Simpson, the victim, was 25 years old and was accustomed, it is said, to drinking heavily. It is generally admitted that he was intoxicated during the test last night. No relatives have appeared to claim the body. 

Everton has employed counsel and will fight the case. It has been suggested that he will make the novel plea that the man was still alive when the autopsy was performed, citing various cases of suspended animation as proof of this. 

Everton on Monday began a week’s engagement in a little 6 and 10 cent vaudeville show called the Somerville Theater. He was engaged only on the day previous. Everton’s terms were to bring with him two subjects and place one of them in a hypnotic trance on exhibition in a show window if that was desired. For himself and his subjects he was to receive $30. 

The men, Everton, Simpson, and a youth named Edward Thompson arrived Monday morning in Somerville and went to board at a little hotel called the Waldorf separated from the theater only by a store and a dwelling.  The hypnotist, a man about 35, rather a good looking fellow with a long and carefully trained mustache, looked like a prosperous showman and wore a fashionable frock coat and silk hat. But he was needy and Weldon advanced him $10 for his and his subject’s immediate expenses. Part of the money which Everton in turn advanced to Simpson the latter appears to have spent in the bars of the town. Of this, however, Everton claimed he was unaware.

The afternoon performance was satisfactory and the manager of the little theater sent out to a number of the local physicians an invitation to attend the evening and witness the performance. At least three physicians of good standing are known to have attended: Dr. Long, the county physician, Dr. Flynn, and Dr Francis McGonaughey. 

Dr. Long said today, “Everton took the subject Simpson, who had been hypnotized, apparently stretched him out with his head upon one chair and his feet upon another and commanded him to be rigid. I watched this performance closely and to all appearances the subject was in a cataleptic condition when the operator stepped from a table onto the subject’s abdomen. There was no yielding of the body. 

“When Everton stepped down upon the stage again he told some of the stage attendants to put the subject Simpson on his feet. This it appeared was to be done by lifting the subject’s feet from the chair and then to raise his stiffened body. But as the assistants were doing this, I noticed that the subject’s body lost rigidity and collapsed sinking to the floor. The operator was apparently surprised and shouted to Simpson, ‘It’s all right.’  Everton also used his hands in the familiar way, apparently trying to restore the subject to a normal physical condition. This was without result however. Then the subject was dragged off the stage and out of our sight. 

“Presently the manager Weldon came down into the auditorium and spoke to me in a manner which left no doubt in my mind that there was some trouble, and of course I immediately responded. Dr. Flynn also accompanied the manager to the rear of the stage and there we saw at once that Simpson was in a bad state. I discovered that there was no pulse and no heartbeat and I ordered that the man be taken at once to his room where we could more conveniently apply restoratives. He was carried out of the rear of the theater and back of the intervening buildings to the Waldorf and there Dr. Flynn and I worked on him. 

“I gave hypodermic injections of strychnine and glycerin. These produced no favorable results. Then I attempted to produce artificial respiration.  Dr. McGonaughey joined Dr. Flynn and me there and assisted us in trying to restore the patient, but after using every method for which we had appliances we agreed that life was extinct. 

“As I am a county official, I could not ignore the circumstances. I sent for a couple of police officials and told them to take Everton into custody. 

“Then the chief and I had a little interview with Mr. Everton. I told Everton I wanted to know If there was any fake in the matter. He assured me there was not. He was in a very nervous condition. He said he knew nothing of catalepsy and had never seen a man in Simpson’s condition. He could not know and could not understand how it came about.  He did say however that before he went on with the exhibition he had learned that Simpson had been drinking.  I then told the chief of police to take care of Everton, and as Everton was so positive that Simpson was still in a catalyptic state, I ordered Simpson to be taken to the county hospital.  I sent then for other members of the staff and they agreed with me that the man was dead.  The stethoscope revealed no heart action whatever.”

By the time the county physician had removed Simpson from the hotel, apparently all Somerville had heard of the affair.  Among those who heard of it promptly was Ralph Edwards, manager of the Bijou.  He at once sent for a hypnotist named Pelham, who is appearing at the Bijou, and told him of the trouble.  Pelham, in evening dress and in makeup as he was, went at once to the Waldorf to see if he could give any aid to his brother performer.  Pelham is a more experienced hypnotist.  In talking today, he said:

“I went to the Waldorf hoping to be able to take Everton's subject out of hiss cataleptic state, if he were in that state. I went first to Everton hoping that he would be in a condition to transfer his control of Simpson to me. But Everton was in no condition to do that. He was in a highly excited state and I could do nothing with him on a hypnotic basis. Then I examined Simpson and I made up my mind that he was gone. It did not look to me like catalepsy. In my opinion, Simpson probably died of shock through the transference to him when he was recovering from his abnormal state of the excitement in the operator, the man who had him in control. Had not Everton lost his head when he saw Simpson collapse, he could, I think, have brought about his recovery.”

In December, the Grand Jury exonerated Everton from causing Simpson’s death.  I have no idea if Everton continued to pursue a career as a hypnotist, but if he did, I’m wagering he had a hard time finding subjects.

Some of you may remember the story I posted about a hypnotist who put an entire family under his influence...and then couldn't figure out how to undo his handiwork. This report from the (Eufaula, Alabama) "Times and News," February 16, 1888, takes that cautionary tale to a whole 'nother level:

Cincinnati Enquirer--Detective Maheffey and J, Rood, both of Alamo, Van Buren county, Michigan, have been in the city a couple of days, looking for a young man named Dwight T. Holmes, whom they believe to be here. It is a case of life and death, and it is of the most importance that Holmes be found.

The story told by Mr. Rood is a most remarkable one, and his own daughter is party to it. On the evening of Jan. 9 his daughter Kitty attended a "candy pull" in Alamo with Holmes. The couple accompanied Miss Annette Garlanger home, and while waiting for her folks to come, they being out somewhere, Holmes thought he would try some of his mesmeric powers.

He first put Miss Garlanger under the hypnotic influence, to his orders she smoked a cigar and did other things. The he experimented on Miss Kittie Rood. She is of a very nervous organization and subject to hysterical attacks. Holmes found her an easy subject, and compelled her to do a number of absurd acts, concluding by ordering her to feign death. At once she became like a corpse and respiration ceased. Holmes was frightened and Miss Garlanger was paralyzed at the unexpected turn things had taken, for they could not waken Miss Rood at all. Holmes got the village doctor, who gave it as his opinion that the young lady had died of heart disease. The grief-stricken parents accepted this, and the funeral occurred Friday, Jan. 13. Thursday night Holmes disappeared. As the coffin was being lowered into the grave Miss Garlanger became hysterical.

She was at once taken home and gradually told the story of the case. Then there was a great rush for the cemetery, and the sexton was surprised to see a lot of men digging away at the newly made grave. The body was taken home, and when the leading physician at Paw Paw, the county seat, Dr. Vanderburg, made a critical examination, he said she was not dead. He applied tests, and then said she was in a trance. Hypnotists from near and far have been called, but they can do nothing. The parents think the only one who can help their daughter is Holmes, and if he will only return to Alamo he will not be prosecuted, as it is thought that he, having put her in this hypnotic condition, he alone can break the bonds which bind her. Miss Rood still lies at her home as if dead, while it is thought that Holmes is hiding for fear he will be arrested for manslaughter. He is said to be a very good looking young fellow, and of excellent reputation.

As is usual with this kind of story, there were no follow-ups in the newspapers, so for all I know Dwight remained on the lam and Kitty remained in a trance. Needless to say, if any amateur hypnotist wants to practice their new-found skills on you, the safest response is to punch them in the nose.

When you come across the phrase "amateur hypnotist" in the old papers, you know you're on to something good. From the "Sedalia Democrat," April 28, 1902:

A family of seven is lying in a comatose condition in the town of Ticona, Ill., as the result of the work of an amateur hypnotist who for four days and nights has been trying unsuccessfully to restore his victims to consciousness.

A Lasalle, Ill., dispatch of the 26th says: The subjects are Rudolph Bartig, his wife and five children. The mesmerist is Leo Lenzer, a youth who lives near them. Neighbors, attracted by the quietude about the Bartig home, made an investigation today which resulted in a confession by Lenzer. He admitted that early in the week he had put the family in a hypnotic state and had lost control of his subjects. Since then, he said, he has spent most of the time in the house trying in vain to lift the spell under which they rest.

The strain has brought him to the verge of nervous prostration. At his earnest request no physician is allowed to interfere with the Bartigs. Their condition as to pulse and heart is all right.

Tonight Lenzer succeeded in partly arousing two of the children and he promises to awaken the other members of the family when he shall have regained his nerve.

I couldn't find any follow-ups to this story, so for all I know the Bartigs are still having a nice long nap.

Hopefully Lenzer took up less hazardous hobbies, but he strikes me as one of those types who goes through life Attracting Incident.

via Newspapers.com

This is a banner month for Strange Company HQ.  First there was Blackie, the talking and litigious cat, now...

...Puffy, the cat hypnotist.


From the "Cincinnati Enquirer," April 9, 1945:

Puffy, a cat that hypnotizes people, was named honorary President of the American Feline Society, Inc., today today and officially dubbed "King of All Cats."

Citing the cream-colored Persian for devoting his "phenomenal psychic powers" to War Bond sales and entertaining wounded veterans, Robert Lothar Kendell, the society's President, declared: "We truly believe you to be the greatest living feline, with powers never before possessed by a cat or, so far as we can learn, by any living creature other than a human being."

Puffy, credited with putting more than 300 persons into a hypnotic trance with his huge, unblinking eyes, was all puffed up over the honor, reported his owner-assistant, Arthur Newman, "He's autographing pictures with his paw print like crazy," said Newman.

It was one night last fall that Puffy, then a kitten, first demonstrated his powers. "He was sitting on the end of a night club bar," Newman recalls, his voice becoming hushed, "and a couple of girls came up to pet him. I didn't pay much attention until one of the girls nudged me and whispered, "Look at my friend!'

"Well, sir, that girl was simply out on her feet. It wasn't from drinking, either. I'm something of a hypnotist myself and I quickly realized that she was in a real hypnotic trance, brought on by Puffy's staring into her eyes."

Newman, who had bought Puffy in a pet shop for purposes of demonstrating that people should relax like cats, immediately started training him to stare even more fixedly, with such success that Puffy now can stare Newman down any time.

Thousands of servicemen in hospitals and canteens have seen Puffy perform. He stares into a subject's eyes while Newman slowly counts out loud. In less than 10 seconds the subject closes his eyes, goes rigid or relaxed, and has to be awakened by Newman. 

Skeptics to the contrary, Newman insists it's Puffy and not himself that does the hypnotizing. "If that cat could only talk," he says, "I'd quit working and just manage Puffy."

People always feel better--headaches gone, and the like--after being hypnotized by Puffy, Newman says, because they have become relaxed in spite of themselves. Several have taken the pledge after watching Puffy do his act in a bar.

Here is a news item from the "Pottstown Mercury," December 16, 1944, showing Puffy's formidable talents in action:




This may be my blog's finest hour.