TELEPATHY GENUINE AND FRAUDULENT/PART 3
PART 3
THE ZANCIGS
Some years ago there
appeared at the Alhambra Theatre, London, two entertainers—Mr. and Mrs.
Zancig—whose performances were of so puzzling a nature that to many who had
witnessed them the only explanation of the results obtained appeared to be that
genuine telepathy was at play. The Daily
Mail newspaper arranged that Mr. and Mrs. Zancig should be
subjected to a series of severe tests at its office, and on the 30th November
1906 these were carried out.
On the 1st December
the Daily Mail published
a full account of these experiments. The publication of this and of other
accounts by persons who had witnessed the remarkable performances of the
Zancigs led to a heated controversy between the correspondents of the Daily Mail and
the Daily Chronicle.
Those of the first paper mostly asserted that the performance was an exhibition
of true telepathy, while those of the second paper declared that codes—visual
and verbal—would account for the phenomena. Previously to the experiment
carried out by the Daily
Mail I had obtained a letter of introduction to the Zancigs
from a friend of mine who had had private tests with them, but as it was
necessary to have the permission of the manager of the Alhambra before an
interview with the Zancigs could be arranged, I called at the offices of that
theatre, and saw Mr. Scott, the manager. I informed him that I was a member of
the Society for Psychical Research, which body I told him took the deepest
interest in telepathy. I handed him a letter that I had written to Mr. Zancig,
and on the 29th November 1906 I received the following communication from the
last-named gentleman:—
"Dear Sir,—I received a letter
from Miss H. A. Dallas, telling me that you would like to meet us. Now, my dear
sir, we would be pleased to make your acquaintance, and have you call for
a visit, but if it is for any private show and to be tried and judged if our
work is, as we represent, 'two minds with but a single thought,' I will have to
say No. We have done nothing since we arrived in London but have callers to
test and try us every day, from three to four ladies and gentlemen. My wife and
I agreed to all tests they put to us, and all was quite satisfactory.
Personally I do not care, but it has been quite a strain on my wife. Should you
care to witness our show, you would be able to see us at ten p.m. on the
Alhambra stage, but if you care to call and see us, and have a little talk, we
both would be pleased to meet you.—Trusting that I am understood, I remain,
yours sincerely,
(Signed) "Julius Zancig"
Although the contents of
the above letter were of a discouraging nature, I determined to strike the iron
while it was hot; therefore, on the evening of the same day I called,
accompanied by my wife, at the flat where the Zancigs resided. They were at the
time partaking of their evening meal. We apologized for our intrusion, but by
the kind way that they received us we were soon put at our ease. I
informed Mr. Zancig that I was much interested in telepathy, and that I had
personally carried out experiments in this branch of psychical research, and
that I was assured of the truth of its existence through the successes that I
had obtained.
Mr. and Mrs. Zancig
impressed my wife and myself most favourably by their unaffected and simple
manner. After a conversation which lasted about ten minutes, Mr. Zancig very
kindly spontaneously offered to try some experiments. I will now describe
these. Madame Zancig went to the other end of the room farthest away from where
Mr. Zancig, my wife, and I sat. She faced the wall with her back to us; Mr.
Zancig then wrote with a chalk a line of figures on a slate which he held in
his left hand, and called out the word "Ready." Madame Zancig
immediately named the figures correctly and in their proper order. The same
kind of experiment was tried successfully three times. The results might have
been due to telepathy, but I was not satisfied, as it could have been possible
that the figures were prearranged, or that Madame Zancig could tell by the
sound of the chalk what figures were being written. I also had in my mind the
fact that there is a method of communicating figures by time-coding.
Mr. Zancig then asked me
to write a double line of figures. I handed the slate to him, and after he had
called out "Ready" Madame Zancig proceeded to cast them up correctly.
As Madame Zancig named all
my figures aloud as she was summing them up, this experiment was of a more
complicated nature than the previous ones; nevertheless, I was not entirely
satisfied, as time-coding in putting down the resultant figures by Mr. Zancig,
and the hearing of the sound of the chalk by Madame Zancig when I was writing
my own figures, might have accounted for the favourable result.
To prevent the possibility
of communicating by an electrical or other apparatus concealed under the
carpet, I requested Mr. Zancig to raise his feet from the floor. He immediately
complied by sitting on the table, where he remained to the last experiment.
Madame Zancig then retired
into an adjoining bedroom with a slate in her hand; the door was closed, but
not entirely. My wife wrote down two lines of figures, the slate was handed by
her to Mr. Zancig, who called out "Ready," and he then proceeded
without speaking to add them up. Madame Zancig then came into the room with the
correct result written by herself on her slate. This was a more crucial test
than the last, but still, although visual-coding was excluded, sound-coding
while Mr. Zancig was writing the resultant sum was not entirely so.
Then followed the
experiment of transmitting a selected line in a book. Mr. Zancig handed me a
book and asked me to open it at any page and to point out a line. After I had
done so I handed the book to him. He called out "Ready." Then his
wife opened a duplicate book at the proper page, and read the line which I had
selected. Doubtless the words of the line were not communicated telepathically
or otherwise by Mr. Zancig, but only the number of the page and the number of
the line counting from the top of the page. Nevertheless, it was difficult
to discover by what method this was done, as Mr. Zancig simply called out
"Ready." There did not appear to be time for the numbers of the page
and line to be transmitted by time-coding. The reader will observe that as the
experiments proceeded they appeared to present increasing evidence that true
telepathy was at work.
The following and last
experiment that I tried on this occasion was the most crucial. I requested Mr.
Zancig to go out with me on to the landing outside the door of the flat. I did
not previously inform Madame Zancig nor Mr. Zancig of the nature of the test
that I was about to put. Madame Zancig remained in the room with my wife. The
door was closed, but not completely. When we were on the landing I suddenly
drew my cheque-book out of my pocket, tore out a cheque, and handed it to Mr.
Zancig, requesting him to transmit the number. Mr. Zancig observed to me in a
whisper that the noise of the traffic in the street was very disturbing. This
was true, as the hall door to the street was open. He then remained silent
while he looked at the cheque. My wife then came out on to the landing,
and handed me a slate upon which Madame Zancig had during the experiment
written the words, "In the year 1875." Mr. Zancig then said aloud,
"This is not what we want; it is the number." My wife returned into
the room with the slate, and the door was closed, but not completely. It was
impossible, however, for Madame Zancig to see her husband. The suspicion arose
in my mind that the number on the cheque might have been communicated to Madame
Zancig by the words that Mr. Zancig had spoken aloud. I therefore took the
cheque that he had in his hand and substituted another one with a different
number that I tore from the bottom of my cheque-book. Mr. Zancig remained
absolutely silent during the whole time that this second experiment lasted. My
wife again came out of the room with the slate, upon which Madame Zancig had
written quite correctly, in their proper order, four of the five numbers of the
second cheque, with the exception of the last figure, which was wanting, but
just as we were returning to the room Madame Zancig said, "There was
another figure; it was four"—which was correct. This impressed me as
a good test, with regard to the three last numbers of this cheque, which were
different from the corresponding ones of the first cheque. Madame Zancig could
not see her husband, and he remained absolutely silent while the experiment was
being carried out.
I insert here a note by
Sir Oliver Lodge in which he gives an account of an experiment of a similar
nature, and also of other experiments which he tried with the Zancigs.
"Independently of the
more thorough investigations of Mr. Baggally, I myself was favoured with a
private interview with the Zancigs, who were friendly and considerate and
helpful; and I tried the experiment of having Mrs. Zancig outside the room,
though with door open, and Mr. Zancig with me and quite silent. I wrote five or
six figures on a slate, taking care to make no noise, and Mrs. Zancig failed to
get them correctly. Zancig seemed distressed at that, and after a little time
groaned out, 'Oh, surely you can do this'; almost immediately after which Mrs.
Zancig came into the room with the correct figures written on her slate.
It was difficult to see how the sentence had conveyed the figures, but it
was instructive to find that utterance of some kind seemed necessary. It was
partly this, and partly the manifest difficulty of eliminating all
possibilities of code between a pair of performers accustomed to go about together,
with years of experience behind them, that prevented me from doing what I
probably ought to have done, though circumstances did not render it very easy,
namely, to make a serious study of the Zancig phenomena.
"Moreover, I
questioned Mr. Zancig about codes, and found that he was familiar with a great
many. He was quite frank about it, and rather implied, as I thought, that at
times he was ready to use any code or other normal kind of assistance that
might be helpful, though he assured me that he found that he and his wife did
possess a faculty which they did not in the least understand, but which was
more efficient and quicker than anything they could get by codes. On the whole,
I think this extremely likely, but the rapidity and the certainty and dependableness
of the power went far beyond anything that I could imagine as possible between
people who depended on supernormal faculty alone. But if there was a mixture of
devices between people so skilled, I despaired of bringing the genuine
part of the phenomenon to a definite issue.
"I do not think that
either this or the weight of my other avocations are a sufficient excuse for
this neglect, but it certainly was not easy to get opportunities for careful
investigation. One of the main difficulties was that they were not free agents,
having entered into contracts with managers whose financial interests partly
depended upon the continued uncertainty of the public as to the causes
underlying their very remarkable performance. Moreover, I knew that so skilled
an investigator as Mr. Baggally was more favourably impressed with them than I
was myself, and was able to give to them some considerable time and attention.
"The extraordinary
and rapid success with which Mrs. Zancig named one thing after another, handled
or seen by her husband as he went through the hall in their public
performances, is familiar to everybody who attended those exhibitions; but one
episode which I have not put on record did impress me as rather exceptionally
good, though entirely unsensational and unnoticeable at the time. I relate it
here:—
"The Zancigs happened
to come to Birmingham for a week during the University Vacation when I was
away. On the last day of their performance I happened unexpectedly to return to
Birmingham, and was dining at the club with some other men. Some one remarked
that the Zancigs were performing, and suggested that we should cut dessert and
go and see them; so we went in the middle of the performance and sat at the
back of the gallery. Everything went on as usual. Mrs. Zancig was on the stage,
blindfolded, I think, though I attach no importance to that. Mr. Zancig had
been through the body of the hall, and was coming along the side gallery,
taking objects from members of the audience as he went, and having them described
quickly one after the other as usual, when he caught sight of me at the back of
the gallery, and indicated recognition by a little start. The next object that
he took in hand (a purse or what not) he said, 'What is this?' and Madame
Zancig on the stage said 'Oliver.' Zancig shook his head and muttered, 'No,
that's what I was thinking of, but what's this?' On which she said whatever it
was correctly, and the performance went on as usual; my friends in due time
getting their tests efficiently done. Nobody noticed the incident in
particular; it was over in a second. It conveyed no impression of anything
except of a slight confusion,—an error, in fact, immediately corrected,—but I
could not fail to notice that the very unimportant incident tended in favour of
the view that a power of sympathy or communication between them was genuine,
since she got an undesired and unintended impression which certainly was at the
moment in Mr. Zancig's mind.
"O. J. L."
Later, on the same evening
of the experiment with the numbers on my cheque-book which I have described
above, my wife and I attended the public performance at the Alhambra. We were
seated at a distance from the stage. When Mr. Zancig came amongst the audience
my wife handed him a piece of something black, the nature of which it was
difficult to tell at first sight. He stooped down and asked in a whisper,
"What is that?" My wife answered, also in a whisper,
"Liquorice." Madame Zancig immediately called out from the stage,
"Liquorice." No word had been spoken by Mr. Zancig after my wife had
whispered the word "Liquorice." I then handed a visiting-card
with a double name. Zancig read to himself in a low voice the last name, which
was Hutchinson, and said, "What is the first name?" Madame Zancig
called out "Berks"; this was correct. It appeared to me suspicious,
however, that the question, "What is the first name?" although
appropriate and natural, should contain the same number of words as there are
letters in the name Berks—namely, five. Therefore some months after, at another
performance, I wrote the same name, Berks Hutchinson, on a piece of paper and
handed it to Mr. Zancig. This time he asked, "What is this?" Madame
Zancig replied, "A piece of paper with a name." Mr. Zancig said,
"Give the name." She replied, "Berks Hutchinson."
I attended a series of
performances at the Alhambra, and took down the questions and answers in order,
if possible, to discover the code. On witnessing a first performance the
spectator might be led to believe that word-coding alone is at the bottom of
the mystery, but if notes are taken at a number of performances he will find
that the same question is answered differently time after time.
From my experiments with
the Zancigs I came to the conclusion that although the alleged transmission of
thought might possibly depend on a code or codes which I was unable to unravel,
yet their performance was of such a nature that it was worthy of serious
scientific examination. On the assumption that they possessed genuine
telepathic powers it would be a pity that the opportunity of investigating
their claim should be missed. I therefore set myself to work to arrange with
Mr. Alfred Moul, managing director of the Alhambra, and Mr. Zancig for some
experiments to be tried before a Committee of the members of the Society for
Psychical Research.
An article appeared in
the Daily Mail,
inspired evidently by Mr. Moul, from which I now quote:—
"We have suggested to
Mr. Zancig that in preference to inquiries into telepathy by unskilled persons
he should place himself in the hands of the Society for Psychical
Research, of which Mr. Gerald Balfour is the President, and of which Sir
Oliver Lodge, Sir William Crookes, and other distinguished scientists are
leading members. Mr. Zancig has informed us that he has already received a
communication from that Society, and that he was entirely willing to place
himself and Madame Zancig at the disposal of the Society for a thoroughly scientific
series of tests."
The investigation by the
Society for Psychical Research, at which I was present, took place on the 18th
January 1907. I regret that I cannot give an account of what took place at this
meeting, as it was mutually arranged between Mr. Moul and the S.P.R. that the
results should not be divulged. They appeared, however, sufficiently favourable
to some of the members present (though not to all) to induce them to
subsequently form an unofficial Committee to carry out further tests. These unofficial
experiments did not take place till 26th July 1907.
In the meantime I
continued my own private experiments. A striking one is the following. I was in
the balcony of the Alhambra on the 19th January 1907, and when Mr. Zancig
came to that part of the house I handed him a piece of paper on which I had
written the word "Istapalapan." I took care that he should not see
the word previously to my giving him the paper. Zancig remarked to me in a
whisper, "This is a long word." Owing to the distance from his wife
it could not have been possible for her to overhear these words. Then Mr.
Zancig called out, "Spell this." Madame Zancig immediately wrote on
the blackboard which was on the stage "Istapala," and when she came
to the second "p" she wrote "f" and then "san." I
have often noticed that when Madame Zancig makes a mistake in a letter or
number there is a similarity in the form of the letter or number to that which
was to be transmitted; thus, she would put down "f" for
"p," "7" for "9." "fsan" in this case
is very like "pan," and Mr. Zancig may have mistaken the letters. I
fail to understand how in this experiment he was able to code such a long word
as "Istapalafsan" by the simple words "Spell this." It
would appear as if Madame Zancig really saw what Mr. Zancig was looking at. The
reader will recollect that in his preliminary remarks at each of his
performances Zancig says, "What I see, Madame Zancig sees."
I have several times
observed this alleged peculiarity, notably so on the occasion of the tests at the
Gramophone offices, which took place on the 22nd February 1907, and at which I
was one of the members of the Committee. Mr. and Mrs. Zancig were divided by a
large screen. They could not see each other. A recording trumpet was placed
near each, into which they spoke. A table was placed by the side of Mr. Zancig
on which a great number of articles had been placed by the members of the
Committee. Madame Zancig with great rapidity named the articles as Mr. Zancig
took them up in answer to his "What is this? and this?" etc. An
incident which struck me as remarkable was the following. Mr. Zancig raised a
pencil, saying, "What is this?" and after Madame Zancig had correctly
stated what it was, he took up immediately (not in the vicinity of the pencil,
but some distance from it) a case, and said, "And this?" Instead of
naming the article Madame Zancig proceeded to enumerate in their proper order
the articles that lay between the two articles which Mr. Zancig had taken up.
Thus, a pencil, a seal, a penknife, a case. It appeared as if Madame Zancig had
actually seen the articles over which her husband had passed his hand.
An excellent test was the
following. Dr. W. M'Dougall, a member of the Council of the S.P.R., who was
present at these tests, borrowed a book from one of the members of the
Committee. He came to the side of the screen where Mr. Zancig stood, opened the
book at a certain page, then pointed to the middle of a line in the centre of
the page. Mr. Zancig, without taking the book in his hand, glanced at the line,
then Dr. M'Dougall shut the book, took it to the other side of the screen, and
handed it closed to Madame Zancig. Mr. Zancig remained absolutely silent,
placed his hand against his forehead, and appeared to make a strong mental
effort. Madame Zancig, after the lapse of a minute, opened the book at the
proper page and began reading at the word in the middle of the line that had
been chosen by Dr. M'Dougall. Some members of the Committee and I stood quite
close to Mr. Zancig. We did not hear him utter a sound. He could not be
seen by Madame Zancig owing to the screen.
I was present at the matinée performance
given under the auspices of the Daily
Mirror newspaper at the Alhambra. Dr. H., principal surgeon
of a well-known hospital, handed to Mr. Zancig a set of skeins of silk of
different colours. These were then passed on to Madame Zancig, who was on the
stage. Dr. H. pointed silently to a skein of silk of a corresponding set which
he had retained, and which he took care Madame Zancig could not see. Mr.
Zancig, who preserved absolute silence, and remained motionless, looked at the
colour of the skein, and in the space of half a minute his wife picked out a
skein of the corresponding colour from the set that she had in her possession.
This test was tried successfully three times. I particularly took note that Mr.
Zancig remained silent and motionless, retaining the same position of his body
during the course of the three experiments.
I have tried tests with
Mr. and Madame Zancig in the transmission of diagrams. I took with me to a
private house to which I was invited an envelope containing cards with diagrams
on them. Madame Zancig sat behind a large screen at the end of the room. By her
side sat a lady, a friend of mine, who watched Madame Zancig and saw that she
did not move from her chair. Mr. Zancig stood close to me near the other end of
the room. I presented the envelope to him, retaining it in my hand. He drew out
one of the cards on which was a diagram not known either to him or to me till
he looked at it. He fixed his gaze intently on it, remained motionless, and in
a whisper said to me, "Please say ready." I called out,
"Ready," and his wife then drew a diagram on a piece of paper, at the
same time saying, "Something like half a moon."
Mr. Zancig's Diagram
Madame Zancig's Drawing
Mr. Zancig then drew
another card from the envelope. This time he did not speak, but nodded his head
once, and I called out, "Ready." Madame Zancig thereupon observed,
"It is a square within a square." The diagram that Mr. Zancig was
looking at was this:
his wife drew this:
Two more cards were then
drawn, but Madame Zancig did not succeed; she got absolutely wrong drawings.
At a public performance at
Eastbourne I handed Mr. Zancig this diagram:
He called out, "Draw
this." Madame Zancig, who was on the platform, said, "It is something
like this." She made a motion with her right arm like drawing a capital V;
she then drew it on the blackboard. After this she slowly drew a
horizontal line through the V, thus:
Mr. Zancig said,
"Give the number." She then placed a 2 in the proper position. He
then called out, "Give the rest." She thereupon placed the a under
the line, thus:
Mr. Zancig said,
"What more?" His wife placed the sign of + correctly, but she rubbed
it out several times as if in doubt. Finally she put down the sign of + and a
capital X, so that her drawing appeared like this:
I have had many other
experiments with this gifted couple, but have not yet obtained the crucial test
of getting Mr. Zancig to be in a distant room with closed doors, while his
wife was in another room. The possibility of their using a sound code at one
time and a visual code at another is therefore not entirely precluded.
Although I have been quite
unable to discover the methods by which they can possibly communicate when a
visual and a sound code are not detected, yet I will reserve my ultimate
opinion until I obtain tests under the crucial conditions that I have named.
Not only did I personally
meet with difficulties in endeavouring to explain the performances of Mr. and
Madame Zancig, but also the members of the unofficial Committee that I have
referred to. I now give an extract from our unofficial report.
"... It must be
remembered that the antecedent probabilities in favour of a code to explain all
performances of this kind are enormous.
"While we are of
opinion that the records of experiments in telepathy made by the Society for
Psychical Research and others raise a presumption for the existence of such a
faculty at least strong enough to entitle it to serious scientific
attention, the most hopeful results hitherto obtained have not been in any way
comparable as regards accuracy and precision with those produced by Mr. and
Madame Zancig. Further, there is, so far as we are aware, no case of any public
performers (including certain recent examples) where the use of a code or
apparatus has not been more or less readily discoverable or clearly to be
inferred. In considering, therefore, the claim of Mr. and Madame Zancig to the
possession of a genuine telepathic faculty, one is faced by the initial
difficulty that such a faculty must be regarded as unique in quality, and Mr.
and Madame Zancig themselves as unique in kind, a difficulty on the force of
which it is not necessary to insist. On the other hand, the difficulty of
suggesting by what method, if not by telepathy, they communicate is
considerable. Those who have only witnessed the public theatre performances,
clever and perplexing as these are, will not appreciate how hard it is to offer
any plausible explanation of their modus operandi."
In conclusion, I would
wish to point out that the establishment of the fact that telepathy is a
scientific truth would have bearings of the greatest importance.
It would show that the
transmission of thought could occasionally be effected otherwise than by the
ordinary sense channels.
It would change the
materialistic conception that thought only acts within the limits of the brain.
It would modify the
materialistic scientific view of the relation of mind to matter.
I trust that what I have
written will act as an incentive to some of my readers to try experiments in
this branch of psychical research. It is not
enough that a few individuals by patient inquiry and experiment should have
been convinced of the reality of telepathy. What is wanted is that scientific
men generally, by the record of an overwhelming number of experiments under the
strictest test conditions, should be convinced of its truth. Once let them be
so, then public conviction will in due time follow.
Meanwhile I feel bound to
state that, in spite of initial improbability, the experiences which I
myself have had, as partly narrated in this book, especially those briefly
summarized in Part I, have convinced me that the telepathic faculty does exist,
and that its detection is a genuine extension of scientific knowledge; though
much more will have to be done before the bare fact receives its explanation
and is permanently incorporated in a coherent system of Science.
END
OF THIS BOOK.








Comments
Post a Comment