Roller Ships

In 1896 the attention and imagination of the press was captured by the claims of a French Engineer, Ernest Bazin, who claimed to have invented a new kind of boat, capable of speeds of sixty miles an hour.

This boat, called the Ernest-Bazin, looked like a platform held up and out of the water by six large wheels. These wheels would roll through the water and, according to small scale tests, offered a real increase in speed over what was currently available. The following year, he was able to launch a prototype, but the promised speeds did not occur. The newspapers of the day report in some detail its failure.

"M. Bazin had made the mistake of imagining that a low rate of power would suffice to move the rollers, and that to conquer their vis inertia he had calculated on an average of fifty horse power to every axle. He had lost sight of the fact that every one of the three axles carries one-third of the weight of the upper part of the entire structure, or say a little over one hundred tons.

Further, the trial trips have proved that the rotation of the rollers entailed the additional weight, through adherence, of a large volume of water, and a considerable loss of power in consequence. M. Bazin had hoped to remedy this defect by rubber paddles, whose office was to beat back the waters, but it needs no great mechanical knowledge to recognize that these paddles worked somewhat like brakes upon the wheel of a carriage." New York Herald, 11 April 1897


Bazin did not live long enough to perfect his design, however. He died on the 21st January 1898 and the Cortland Standard drily noted, "M. Bazin, the Frenchman who devised the roller ship which was to cross the Atlantic in four days, himself rolled into the unknown world before his ship was a success." In 1899 the ship was sold at auction for scrap.

However, not to be discouraged, in 1897 a Canadian lawyer of Scottish descent, Frederick Knapp, publicised his design for a ship that would work along similar lines. Instead of six wheels, the entire ship took the shape of a tube, and the plan was to roll across the water. The claims he made for its performance were almost too fantastic not to report, and the papers of the day duly relayed to their readers Knapp's prediction of speeds of 120 m.p.h.

They also reported on the failure of the first test of the ship, in October of the same year when it mostly just turned on the spot, but did manage to get up to six miles an hour before it was towed back to harbour after travelling for two miles. The New York Times reports that Knapp (clearly an optimist) said "that the boat was under perfect control and that the matter of speed was simply a question of more powerful engines."

Two years later, in 1899, the ship had another unsuccessful test run when it ran out of coal halfway along its journey up the St Lawrence River. Two men went ashore to get more coal, during which time the wind blew the ship seventeen miles, and before long the coal ran out again. They dropped anchor, but in the high winds, the anchor just dragged and eventually the ship drifted onto rocks.

Then again in 1901 the ship set out in November along the St Lawrence River. Halfway to their destination, a snowstorm reduced visibility to almost zero, the ship missed the harbour where it was going and again it ended up beached, this time on a mud bank.

This is the last occasion I can find when the unnamed roller ship moved under its own power. In 1902 the Canada Gazette notes an application to incorporate the Knapp Tubular Steamship Company. During this time, Knapp was building a second boat in Montreal but the docks kicked him out to make room for more profitable jobs.

Its final journey was in 1903, when the half-built ship was towed to Toronto. The curious shape of the unfinished tube was not stable, and kept rolling and cutting the towing cables. Once in harbour in Toronto, it broke free once more and damaged another ship, the Niagara.

The last reference I can find to Knapp's ship date from 1906, when Knapp gave a talk on the subject, reported in the March issue of Popular Mechanics. It relates that Knapp planned to build a new larger boat boat, 800 feet long and capable of greater speeds, and was expecting to have a ship ready for trials in that year. But the plan is not mentioned again.

And as for the unfinished ship? It lay, untouched, for years until the Toronto Harbour Commission wanted to use the land where it was. They simply blew it up and filled over the land.

References
Wikipedia entry on Roller Ships
Set of photographs of Bizet's ship (scroll down to "related photos")
Richmond, R., Villemaire, T., (2002) "Colossal Canadian Failures," Dundurn Group Ltd
Bazin, E., (1893) "Roller Vessel or Boat," U.S. Patent number 507,099

"Bazin's Failure", New York Herald, 11 April 1897
"New Ship to Roll Across the Atlantic in Twenty-Four Hours," The World (New York), 19 Sept 1897
"Knapp Roller Boat Tried", New York Times, 22 Oct 1897
Cortland Standard, 6th February 1898
"Bazin's Roller Ship", Oswego Daily Times, 3 Feb 1899
"Knapp Roller Ship Ashore," New York Times, 16 Jun 1899
Canada Gazette, vol 35, number 38, 22 March 1902, p 34
"The Knapp Experimental Roller-ship Boat," Brooklyn Daily Eagle, 20 Feb 1904
"Plans to Cross Ocean in Ten Hours," Popular Mechanics, March 1906, vol 8, no. 3, p 307-308

Martian for Beginners

In France, March 1894, a woman named Mme Mirbel went to see a medium to try and contact her deceased son. A circle of several people sat, contact was made, and the usual assurances of peace in the afterlife were given by the son, as well as a spirit of a doctor called Raspail who gave Mme Mirbel medical advice on the eye condition she had.

Some months later, in November, she went back for a second seance. This time there was no Dr Raspail (perhaps sulking since Mme Mirbel had not followed his advice) and to everyone's great surprise it was revealed that the son had been reincarnated, and now lived on Mars and spoke no French. Instead, he spoke through the medium in a stream of intelligible noises which, apparently, was the Martian language.

Writing about this in "From India to the Planet Mars", Theodore Flournoy describes the events because he knew the medium well and had been present at both seances, as well as seances that followed. The language uttered by the medium, Hélène Smith (a pseudonym given by Flournoy. Her real name was Catherine-Élise Müller) appeared to be consistent, with the same words, prefixes and suffixes being used.

Over time, it became more sophisticated until some Martian handwriting was produced by the medium in August 1897. Despite his friendship with the medium and his belief in telepathy, he had doubts about this case.

A sample of Martian handwriting

It soon became clear that, despite the different vocabulary, Martian followed the rules of French grammar almost exactly. Flournoy writes of his examination of written Martian:

"It is not always easy to represent a language and its pronunciation by means of the typographical characters of another. Happily the Martian, in spite of its strange appearance and the fifty millions of leagues which separate us from the red planet, is in reality so near neighbor to French that there is scarcely any difficulty in this case." (p 210)

A translation of the same handwriting shown above

Also, the spirits from Mars seemed quite ignorant of those subjects that people asked of them, such as the canals on Mars, and about the snow seen at the poles. Instead, they preferred to talk about the social structure of Martian life.

Müller was born in Switzerland, and although she professed a dislike of learning languages she had studied German. Flournoy notes that she had a multi-lingual father and posits that her talent for languages may have been hereditary, subliminally rising to the surface when in a trance.

In October 1898, having convinced himself that Martian was just French in fancy clothes, he told Müller about his findings (oddly, he had first told one of Müller's spirit guides about his doubts during a seance when the medium was in a trance. The spirit guide insisted that Martian was genuine). She refused to accept his reasoning, saying that science was not infallible and since no one had been to Mars, she couldn't be disproved.

But shortly after this, a new identity from Mars appeared in her seances, this time with the promise of a new language. Additionally, Fournoy noticed a slight change in Martian that focused on those aspects that he had discussed with her earlier. But by now Fournoy had grown quite tired of Martian, and he closes the chapter before any example of this new language had been given.


References
Flournoy, T., (1900) "From India to The Planet Mars, a Study of a Case of Somnambulism with Glossolalia", translated by D.B. Vermilye, Harper and Brothers Publishers
Engles, H., (2008) "Understanding The Glossolalia Of Hélène Smith, The Famous Spiritist Medium", Psychiatries dans l’histoire, J. Arveiller (dir.), Caen, PUC, p. 141-148

A ghost story for Christmas

The early publications of the Society for Psychical Research would frequently contain accounts of peculiar and paranormal events (usually with at least one statement from another witness corroborating the story) and this is a particular favourite of mine since it has a sort of M.R.James style about it, and I'm a big fan of his ghost stories.

The first time it was published, in 1890, all the names of people and places were replaced by initials, but a later report in the JSPR identifies these initials, so I've taken the original account and dropped in the names etc. as and when necessary.

In 1880 I succeeded a Mr. Sternberg as librarian of the Leeds Library. I had never seen Mr. Sternberg, nor any photograph or likeness of him, when the following incidents occurred. I may, of course, have heard the library assistants describe his appearance, though I have no recollection of this. I was sitting alone in the library one evening late in March, 1884, finishing some work after hours, when it suddenly occurred to me that I should miss the last train to Harrogate, where I was then living, if I did not make haste. It was then 10.55, and the last train left Leeds at 11.5.

I gathered up some books in one hand, took the lamp in the other, and prepared to leave the librarian's room, which communicated by a passage with the main room of the library. As my lamp illumined this passage, I saw apparently at the further end of it a man's face. I instantly thought a thief had got into the library. This was by no means impossible, and the probability of it had occurred to me before. I turned back into my room, put down the books, and took a revolver from the safe, and, holding the lamp cautiously behind me, I made my way along the passage – which had a corner, behind which I thought my thief might be lying in wait – into the main room.

Here I saw no one, but the room was large and encumbered with bookcases. I called out loudly to the intruder to show himself several times, more with the hope of attracting a passing policeman than of drawing the intruder. Then I saw a face looking round one of the bookcases. I say looking round, but it had an odd appearance as if the body were in the bookcase, as the face came so closely to the edge and I could see no body. The face was pallid and hairless, and the orbits of the eyes were very deep. I advanced towards it, and as I did so I saw an old man with high shoulders seem to rotate out of the end of the bookcase, and with his back towards me and with a shuffling gait walk rather quickly from the bookcase to the door of a small lavatory, which opened from the library and had no other access.

I heard no noise. I followed the man at once into the lavatory; and to my extreme surprise found no one there. I examined the window (about 14in. x 12in.), and found it closed and fastened. I opened it and looked out. It opened into a well, the bottom of which, 10 feet below, was a sky-light, and the top open to the sky some 20 feet above. It was in the middle of the building and no one could have dropped into it without smashing the glass nor climbed out of it without a ladder – but no one was there. Nor had there been anything like time for a man to get out of the window, as I followed the intruder instantly.

Completely mystified, I even looked into the little cupboard under the fixed basin. There was nowhere hiding for a child, and I confess I began to experience for the first time what novelists describe as an 'eerie' feeling.

I left the library, and found I had missed my train.

Next morning I mentioned what I had seen to a local clergyman, who, on hearing my description, said, "Why that's old Sternberg!" Soon after I saw a photograph (from a drawing) of Sternberg, and the resemblance was certainly striking. Sternberg had lost all his hair, eyebrows and all, from (I believe) a gunpowder accident. His walk was a peculiar, rapid, high-shouldered shuffle.

This story is actually quite famous, and searching for Ghost of Leeds Library will bring up more information. However, what really struck me on reading this was that librarians were armed in those days! It really was a different world back then.

References
Lambert, G.W. (1969), "Stranger Things: Some Reflections", Journal of the Society for Psychical Research Vol. 45, No. 740, p50

Myers, F.W.H., (1889-90), "On Recognised Apparitions Occurring More Than A Year After Death," Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research Vol 6, P57-95

The Half-Life of Miracles

Augustus DeMorgan's 1872 book A Budget of Paradoxes is a book about books. It describes his collection of curiositites in which various authors have, throughout history, written erroniously about mathematics. Not just getting their sums wrong but often misapplying mathematics to entirely inappropriate subjects.

On page 129 of volume 1, for example, is "Theologiæ Christianæ Principia Mathematica" by Johanne Craig (1699). This book used mathematics to calculate how long acceptance for the evidence for Christianity would last. DeMorgan ponders that Craig had probably been inspired by Newton's "Principia Mathematica" and he notes that:

"The success of the Principia of Newton put it into many heads to speculate about applying notions of quantity to other things not then brought under measurement. Craig imitated Newton's title, and evidently thought he was making a step in advance: but it is not every one who can plough with Samson's heifer."

And how long is belief in Christianity expected to last? If the evidence had only been oral, Craig calculated that it would've ended in 800AD but since it was written down, he estimated it will continue until 3150AD (and, in fairness to him, so far so good). And this is the year in which Craig predicted the second coming. DeMorgan ruefully wished that this part of Craig's theory had been widely accepted in order to save us from the endless predictions of the end of the world. One of which just passed yesterday, of course.

References
"A Budget of Paradoxes" by Augustus DeMorgan
Volume 1

Volume 2

Soal's other fraud

Samuel Soal (1889-1975) was a parapsychologist who is best known these days for his work with Shackleton in the 1940s. This work had been controversial for many years, due to a witness who accused Soal of writing on the result sheets, which was finally decided in 1974 when Betty Marwick analysed the sheets and found statistical evidence of tampering.

But there was another episode in which Soal most likely offered fraudulent data. In January 1922, during a series of sittings with the medium Mrs Blanche Cooper, a spirit named Gordon Davis came through. This was an old childhood friend of Soal's who he had not met in years.

Gordon Davis goes on to talk about school and also the house where he lived, including details about the layout and decorations and a room upstairs with a piano in it, on top of which sits a bird. The spirit of Gordon Davis only communicated three times and the whole episode may have gone unremarked except that, in 1925, Soal learnt that Gordon Davis was still alive and living in Southend-on-Sea.

Soal went to Southend-on-Sea from his home in Prittlewell, to the address he was given and found to his surprise a house that matched the description from the "spirit" of Gordon. He then spoke to Mr Davis, showed him the transcripts, recorded his reactions and wrote the episode up in a lengthy article in the Journal of the Society for Psychical Research along with other examples supporting the idea that mediumistic communications were not from the dead, but perhaps sourced from telepathy with living people.

Another researcher into mediums wrote a response to this article. Dennis Bradley seemed to take issue with Soal's research suggesting that psychic mediums were not imparting messages from deceased loved ones, but were instead getting the information telepathically from the sitter.

Bradley's article is littered with put-downs and insults, such as referring to Soal's dialogue with the medium as "flimsy and even ridiculous snatches of conversation" or "disjointed and chaotic utterances." His main argument against Soal is that the medium said nothing evidential but vague guesses, and then Soal would supply the answer he was looking for.

Soal replies in the same issue. After Bradley's bad tempered article (which was initially written for another magazine, Light) Soal can play it cool and he comes across as the level-headed, rational one. He can't resist the occasional dig, saying that one of Bradley's arguments will "become one of the classics of absurdity."

The absurd argument in question hinges on the vagueness of some of the information that Gordon Davis brought through regarding his house. Soal uses statistics to support his claim that Davis' description of the house and of a room with a piano with a bird on it could not have been guesswork or coincidence. Furthermore, Soal notes that " The house and its contents for all practical purposes did not come into being as the residence of the Davis family until December 13th, 1922, almost a year after the time of the sittings."

This sitting has been a curiosity in the annals of parapsychology, apparently flying in the face of plenty of other research into life-after-death communication. It was much discussed until 1986 when a book "Investigating the Unexplained" was published.

Written by Melvin Harris, it describes how he obtained a copy of Soal's handwritten notes from a vicar who was helping Soal verify information about one of the spirits who had come through during the same sittings. In that copy of the transcript, there is no description of the inside of the house, certainly not the piano and bird, leading Harris to deduce that it was a later addition. Since Soal and Cooper were alone during their sittings, there was no one to corroborate Soal's version of events or challenge any difference between his notes and the original statements.

This discrepency was confirmed in the JSPR in 2000, although the writer in this article posits the theory that those details were removed because they did not refer to the case the vicar was interested in. This begs the question of why other material wasn't similarly edited out, but that is a hypothetical discussion for another day.

Melvin Harris points out further problems with Soal's story. For example, that he and Davis lived within a few miles of each other and that the description of Gordon Davis' house (since demolished) could be put together from walking past it, and the room could be seen from the top deck of a double decker bus.

Quite what motivated Soal to put forward fraudulent data in this way is a little strange. During the controversy of the Soal Shackleton data, his colleagues were quick to stress his honesty in his dealings. Nevertheless two of his most famous results have reasons for us to be suspicious.

Mind you, I think there are quite a few researchers into the afterlife who would be quite relieved that this troublesome bit of data appears to be false.

References
BRADLEY, H.D., (1926) "An Analysis Of The Experiments Of Mr. S. G. Soal, M.A., B.Sc." Journal of the Society for Psychical Research, vol 23, 29-38
HARRIS, M., (1986) "Investigating the unexplained", Prometheus Books, Amherst, NY
MARKWICK, B. (1978), The Soal-Goldney experiments with Basil Shackleton: New evidence of data manipulation, Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research, 56, 250-281.
SOAL, S.G., (1925) " A Report On Some Communications Received Through Mrs. Blanche Cooper. Section 4" Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research, vol 353, 561-571
SOAL, S. G., (1926) "A Reply to Mr H Dennis Bradley" Journal of the Society for Psychical Research, vol 23, 38-50
WEST, D.J., (2000) "Correspondence: The Gordon Davis Precognitive 'Communications'." Journal of the Society for Psychical Research, Vol. 64.4, 252-254

Old map of Southend on Sea taken from http://www.francisfrith.com/southend-on-sea/maps/