“A Veritable Eldorado”: European Wondermongers in Russia, 1755-1803

489 “A Veritable Eldorado”: European Wondermongers in Russia, 1755-1803 Robert Collis Abstract In recent years numerous studies have furthered our knowledge of the growth of a consumer market for wondrous spectacles and pseudo-scientific cures in Western Europe in the second half of the eighteenth century. This market prospered as a result of the sustained growth of the public sphere and formed part of a new urban culture, which was fascinated by spectacles of (apparent) modernity. The proliferation of newspapers allowed wondermongers—prestidigitators, conjurors, quacks and magicians etc.—to advertise easily and cheaply and to further pique the curiosity of readers in an age in which the boundaries between science and pseudo-science were still extremely porous. This article draws on a wealth of advertisements and “curious reports” placed in the Moskovskie vedomosti and Sanktpeterburgskie vedomosti newspapers, as well as other primary source material, in order to examine the impact and influence of European wondermongers in Russia in the second half of the eighteenth century. In undertaking such a study we learn about a host of colourful wondermongers who plied their trade in Russia. Moreover, we are able to examine how the Russian metropolitan elite became consumers of pseudo-scientific cures and spectacles, which, while a less reputable aspect of Enlightenment culture, were extremely popular across Europe.1 ฀ ฀ ฀ In 1784, the author of London unmask’d bemoaned the taste of his fellow city-dwellers for all manner of imported marvels and curiosities: “This importation of exotic fashions, exotic wonders, and exotic manners, has ever conduced to the emolument of the importers... This may, indeed, be called the wonder-working age.”2 Indeed, the paying public in London were spoilt for choice in the early 1780s with regard to the plethora of wondrous spectacles and medical cures on offer: a chess-playing automaton, learned pigs, extraordinary exhibitions of natural magic by the likes of Gustavus Katterfelto and Joseph Pinetti, as well as the electro-magnetic celestial bed available to rich clientele in the so-called Temple of Health promoted by James Graham.3 Across the Channel, Louis-Sébastien Mercier described how a “love of the 1 2 3 All dates in relation to events in Russia are recorded according to the Julian Calendar, which between 1750-1800 was 11 days behind the Gregorian Calendar and from 1800 was 12 days behind. London unmask’d: or the new town spy (London: William Adlard, 1784), 135. On the remarkable variety of wondrous and curious spectacles on display in London in the second half of the eighteenth century, see R. D. Altick, The Shows of London (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press, 1978); Julie Park, 490 marvelous” similarly conquered Parisians at this time, as they sensed “confusedly how little” they knew “of the forces of nature.”4 This craving for the marvelous was epitomized by the fashion for animal magnetism as practiced by Franz Mesmer and by the outbreak of “balloonomania” after the public demonstrations in 1783 of the “Montgolfier brothers”.5 In recent years a host of excellent studies have furthered our knowledge of the irrepressible growth of a consumer market for wondrous spectacles and pseudo-scientific cures in the second half of the eighteenth century. It has been demonstrated that this market prospered as a result of the sustained growth of the public sphere in Britain and France and formed part of a new urban culture which was fascinated by spectacles of (apparent) modernity.6 Indeed, Paul Keen has recently argued that city dwellers’ love of spectacle in London formed “a crucial part of urban metropolitan life.”7 Moreover, the proliferation of newspapers allowed wondermongers to advertise relatively easily and cheaply to a largely urban readership and to further pique their curiosity in this wonder-working age, in which the boundaries between science and pseudo-science were still extremely porous. The two great metropolitan centres in eighteenth-century Russia – St. Petersburg and Moscow – were not blessed with descriptive accounts of the cultural fashions of their urban denizens in the style of Mercier or the author of London unmask’d. However, by 1756 each city had a bi-weekly newspaper. Moreover, both the Sanktpeterburgskie vedomosti (hereafter SV) and Moskovskie vedomosti (hereafter MV) experienced a sizeable growth in readership, particularly from the 1770s.8 This resulted in 4 5 6 7 8 The Self and It; Novel Objects in Eighteenth-Century England (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2010), 123-160; Paul Keen, Literature, Commerce and the Spectacle of Modernity, 1750-1800 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 165-201. On Katterfelto, see David Paton-Williams, Katterfelto: Prince of Puff (Leicester: Troubadour, 2008). Very little has been written on Pinetti’s residence in London in 1784-1785. For a brief account, see H. R. Evans, “Chevalier Pinetti – Conjuror,” The Open Court 10 (1903), 592. On James Graham’s electromagnetic celestial bed, see Lydia Syson, Doctor of Love: Dr. James Graham and His Celestial Bed (London: Alma Books, 2008). L-S. Mercier, Tableau de Paris. Nouvelle Édition, vol. 1 (Amsterdam: n.p., 1782), 393. See Robert Darnton, Mesmerism and the End of the Enlightenment (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1968); M. R. Lynn, Popular Science and Public Opinion in Eighteenth-Century France (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2006), See John Brewer and Roy Porter, eds., Consumption and the World of Goods (London: Routledge, 1993); Paul Metzner, Crescendo of the Virtuoso: Spectacle, Skill and Self-Promotion in Paris During the Age of Revolution (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998); William Clark, Jan Golinski and Simon Schaffer, eds., The Sciences in Enlightened Europe (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1999); James Chandler and Kevin Gilmartin, eds., Romantic Metropolis: The Urban Scene of British Culture, 1780-1840 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005); M. R. Lynn, Popular Science and Public Opinion in Eighteenth-Century France (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2006); Bernadette Bensaude-Vincent and Christine Blondel, eds., Science and Spectacle in the European Enlightenment (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2008); Paul Keen, Literature, Commerce. Keen, Literature, Commerce, 22. The circulation of the SV increased from about 600 copies in the 1750s to approximately 2,500 copies during the reign of Paul I. No accurate data exists relating to the distribution of the MV in the second half of the eighteenth century. However, according to N. M. Karamzin, the newspaper only sold about 600 copies until 1779, when N. I. Novikov became editor. By 1789 Karamzin states that subscriptions had reached 4,000 and by 1802 – 6,000. Such figures would easily make the MV the most read newspaper in eighteenth-century Russia. On the press run figures 491 a corresponding expansion in the content of the newspapers, including a noticeable increase in the quantity of advertisements.9 A thorough examination of these advertisements, alongside sections devoted to foreign (mainly European) wonders and marvels, leaves one with the impression that affluent inhabitants of Petersburg and Moscow were equally as credulous and enthusiastic about imported exotic wonders as the residents of the two great capi- tals of Western Europe. In this regard, a study of the growing number of European itinerant wondermongers and quacks who ventured into Russia in the second half of the eighteenth century has the potential to reveal fresh perspectives on the complex, multifaceted nature of the Russian elite’s on-going process of Westernization.This process was closely entwined with the spread of modernization and increasing levels of urbanization. Yet rather than adhering to a particular prescribed dose of reputable Western medicine, as advocated by Catherine II, many among the Russian upper class were apparently happy to administer all manner of exotic nostrums. In so doing, they were merely emulating the foibles of their peers in Paris and London. In other words, by embracing the market for wonders and urban spectacles that was prevalent in Western Europe, the Russian metropolitan elite became consumers of a less reputable, but highly popular, aspect of Enlightenment culture. With a few notable exceptions, the vast majority of wondermongers one encounters on the pages of the SV and MV have left no trace beyond the advertisements in which they feature. These itinerant salesmen (and, very rarely, saleswomen) of exotic wonders were reliant on an emerging consumer culture in Russia. In this sense, their methods differed sharply from the exploits of Giacomo Casanova and Alessandro Cagliostro, the celebrated adventurer-charlatans who visited Russia in 1764-1765 and 1779-1780 respectively. These notables did not need to advertise their talents in newspapers. Instead, they utilized such things as Masonic networks and personal recommendations in order to win the patronage of eminent members of the nobility.10 In many ways the glamorous exploits of the likes of Casanova and Cagliostro in Russia have dazzled historians and obscured the myriad lesser lights that shone less brightly, but arguably no less interestingly. In the same month as Cagliostro arrived in Petersburg, for example, an Italian named Pinchi announced in the SV that he was 9 10 of the SV in the second half of the eighteenth century, see Svodnyi katalog russkoi knigi grazhdanskoi pechati XVIII veka, 1725-1800, vol. 4 (Moscow: Biblioteka SSSR imeni V. I. Lenina, 1966), 71-114. For Karamzin’s analysis of the readership of the MV, see N. M. Karamzin, “O knizhnoi torgovle i liubvi ko chteniiu v Rossii,” Izbrannye sochineniia v dvukh tomakh, vol. 2 (Moscow-Leningrad: Khudozhestvennaia literatura, 1964), 176. Also see Gary Marker, “The Creation of Journals and the Profession of Letters in the Eighteenth Century,” in Literary Journals in Imperial Russia, ed. by D. A. Martinsen (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997), 16-18. As in England, advertisements were lucrative and provided additional revenue for the Russian bi-weeklies. On the role of advertising in eighteenth-century English newspapers, see James Raven, “The Book Trades,” in Books and Their Readers in Eighteenth-Century England: New Essays, ed. Isabel Rivers (London: Continuum, 2001), 1-35. On Casanova in Russia, see Larry Wolff, Inventing Eastern Europe: The Map of Civilization on the Mind of the Enlightenment (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1994), 50-62. On Cagliostro’s sojourn in St. Petersburg, see V. P. Zotov, “Kaliostro: ego zhizn’ i prebyvanie v Rossii,” Russkaia starina 12 (1875), 50-83; Boris Ivanoff, “Cagliostro in Eastern Europe (Courland, Russia & Poland),” Ars Quatuor Coronatorum 40 (1928), 45-80. 492 “highly skilled in natural magic” and offered demonstrations of his art every evening at 6 o’clock in Perkin House on Nevskii Prospect. In the same newspaper, on October 22, 1779, it was advertised that the giantess Gauk would perform Italian arias accompanied by a full orchestra. Furthermore, the Italian Giuseppe Maggi, to whom I will return, inserted a notice in the MV on October 23, 1779, with regard to wondrous cures made possible by his electric machine. By 1779 an increasing number of European wondermongers and quacks were promoting their spectacles and cures to the “esteemed public” (pochtennaia publika), as they invariably addressed readers in their advertisements, in both the SV and the MV. An upward trend in the marketing of exotic wonders and spectacles is discernible from the mid-1770s, with something of a golden age occurring between the late 1770s and mid-1780s. After a relative lull in the early 1790s, the market for wonders seems to have improved by 1797, when Joseph Pinetti – Europe’s preeminent prestidigitator – first performed in Petersburg.11 A lavish coda of sorts occurred around 1803, when Pinetti and others promoted a series of aerostatic voyages, thereby launching Russia’s own balloonomania. This public demonstration of man’s technological mastery over the elements marked the culmination of a trajectory which began in the 1750s with wondermongers promoting their trade in humble taverns (traktiry). By the 1770s they had ascended to private theaters and residences of noblemen and by the 1790s to prestigious public theaters. Curious News from Europe At the height of the Russian public’s demand for exotic wondermongers the SV and the MV included reports of curious foreign phenomena. These descriptions of the weird and wonderful can be viewed as companion pieces to the advertisements placed in Russian newspapers by the wondermongers. In this regard the foreign reports served to reinforce the fashion for the consumption of curiosity. These stories served at least a three-fold purpose: (1) to paint Western Europe as a realm of sensational scientific inventions, natural wonders and medical marvels; (2) to emphasize how the consumption of curiosity was a European pursuit worthy of emulation; and (3) to cater to a readership increasingly able to sample such a culture of curiosity at close range. From March 1777, for example, the SV included “miscellaneous news items” (raznyia izvestiia) which brought astonishing events to the attention of readers. Thus, on March 31, the newspaper reported the early successes of Mesmer in Vienna in restoring the hearing of a boy and a girl by magnetic healing,12 followed on June 6 by a description of how he had restored the sight of a thirteen-year-old girl.13 On March 1, 1779, the SV also included a report from Paris about talking heads made from metal 11 12 13 For a recent biographical study on Pinetti (1750- c.1803), whose full name was Giovanni Giuseppe Bartolomeo Vincenzo Merci, see Ennio Graziani, Giovanni Giuseppe Bartolomeo Vincenzo Merci in arte Joseph Pinetti de Merci Conte di Willedalunmago del XVIII secolo, padre dei prestigiatori (Arcidosso: Edizioni Effigi, 2011). SV, March 31, 1777, no. 26, n.p. SV, June 6, 1777, no. 45, n.p. 493 by the abbé Mical, which were able to “utter entire speeches in a manner similar to the human voice.”14 However, the frequency, duration and scope of stories featured in the SV paled in comparison to the “Curious News” section in the MV, which first appeared in 1779 – the year N.I. Novikov became editor of the newspaper. On January 2, 1779, the newspaper included a section entitled “Learned and various other curious information” (Uchenyia i raznyia drugiia liubopytnyia svedeniia). By January 19 the section had simply been renamed “Curious News” (Liubopytnyia izvestiia), which until around 1786 included a regular supply of truly astonishing stories from Europe alongside transcripts and reports of expeditions undertaken by the Academy of Sciences.15 This conflation of “high” and “popular” science reflects the porous boundaries that continued to exist across Europe, including Russia, in the last quarter of the eighteenth century. Between 1779 and 1782 the compilers of the “Curious News” section in the MV seem to have been somewhat obsessed with tales of super-centenarians in foreign (mainly European) lands, judging by the frequency of their appearance in the newspaper. Readers would have been all too aware of the fragility of life in late eighteenth-century Russia, as only several years earlier Moscow had been ravaged by an outbreak of the bubonic plague.16 As with Voltaire’s description of Candide encountering a healthy 172-year old man in Eldorado, tales of super-centenarians in foreign lands offered tantalizing evidence of the possibility of man’s incorruptibility amidst a seemingly fallen world.17 The Old Testament provided plentiful examples of people living extraordinarily long lives, such as Methusalah, and thus signalled that humans had the potential to live far longer than was commonplace in the eighteenth century. An air of scientific credibility was also attached to tales of individuals living to nearly two hundred years of age. In the sixteenth century, Luigi Cornaro had advocated dietary restraint as a means of greatly extending an individual’s lifespan.18 In 1766 the pioneering Swiss physiologist Albrecht von Haller published Elementa physiologiae corporis humani in which he argued that humans could potentially live up to the age of 200. He backed up this claim by documenting a series of cases of reported super-centenarians.19 14 15 16 17 18 19 SV, March 1, 1778, no. 18, 170. On the talking heads created by Mical, see Jessica Riskin, “Eighteenth-Century Wetware,” in The Artificial and the Natural: An Evolving Parity, ed. Bernadette Bensaude-Vincent and W. R. Newman (Cambridge, MA: Massachusetts Institute of Technology, 2007), 106-107. In 1786 it is noticeable that the “Curious News” section in the MV became increasingly focused on fashion gossip from Paris or London. On October 3, 1786, for example, a report was published regarding how “Cagliostro” ribbons were being worn in Paris. See MV, October 3, 1786, no. 79, 694. On the impact of the bubonic plague epidemic in Moscow between 1770 and 1772, see J. T. Alexander, Bubonic Plague in Early Modern Russia: Public Health and Urban Disaster (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003). Voltaire, Candide: Or, Optimism (London: Penguin Books, 1947), 77-80. On the subject of human longevity in the second half of the eighteenth century, see G. J. Gruman, A History of Ideas about the Prolongation of Life (New York: Springer Publishing Company, 2003); Lucian Boia, Forever Young: A Cultural History of Longevity (London: Reaktion Books 2004). See Luigi Cornaro, Discourses on the Sober Life (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell Company Publishers, 1916). In 1778 the eminent geologist John Whitehurst included a list of twenty-two super-centenarians living in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries in a chapter entitled “The Longevity of the Human Species” in An Inquiry into the Original State and Formation of the Earth (London: J. Cooper, 1778), 136. 494 Yet the reports that feature in the MV between 1779 and 1782 have no learned pretensions.20 Rather, they seem to have served to whet the appetites of readers who had become eager consumers of curious wonders. The first account of a super-centenarian appeared on August 7, 1779, and related to the recent death, at the age of 123, of a certain Ioann Aragus in Turkey.21 Thereafter a flurry of short accounts continued to be included in the “Curious News” section and two lengthy articles appeared in the summer of 1782 which explicitly drew on contemporary English journals.22 On July 6, 1782, a four-page account of super-centenarians was published in the MV which cited Pliny’s Natural History as well as more recent examples from Britain, Ireland and Denmark.23 Interestingly, this article quoted at length from a letter printed in the May 1781 edition of The Gentleman’s Magazine, thereby showing how the editors of the MV pilfered from West European publications in order to satiate their readers thirst for curious reports.24 This was followed on August 24, 1782, by a twopage anecdotal account of the famed Thomas Parr, who reputedly lived to the age of 152 before dying in England in 1635.25 Readers were also regularly informed about a broad spectrum of other curious events and phenomena that had recently occurred in Europe. Thus, in addition to tales of abnormal human longevity, the MV also furnished its customers with reports regarding the births of a variety of freaks of nature. In March 1779, for example, the newspaper announced that a giant had been born in England.26 Several months later a detailed report was published regarding the birth of a two-headed girl in Greno- ble, who had unusually large, round eyes, among other strange facial features. The newspaper’s account ends by describing how the mother explained that during her pregnancy she had received a great shock when she unexpectedly saw an owl. In 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 For a discussion of human longevity in a more serious scientific publication, see “O starosti i smerti” in Magazin natural’noi istorii, fiziki i khimii, vol. 4 (Moscow: Moscow University, 1788), 90-93. MV, August 7, 1779, no. 63, n.p. On August 28, 1779, readers were informed that a leaseholder (otkupshchik aged 134) was then living in an English town and had thirteen wives (MV, August 28, 1779, no. 69, n.p.). In early October the MV reported that a prior had died in Turin at the age of 118 and that some years earlier a fellow cleric had lived to the age of 132 (See MV, October 9, 1779, no. 81, n.p. ). At the close of the year the newspaper also informed readers that a baby girl had been christened in England whose maternal relatives had all lived to the extraordinary age of 280! (MV, December 21, 1779, no. 102, n.p.). In 1780 the newspaper printed reports of a black woman (arapka) living to the age of 175 in South America (MV, March 28, 1780, no. 26, 208). Also see the report of a certain Matvei Krol’maier reaching 135 years of age before his death in Hamburg (MV, April 8, 1780, no. 29, 230). In May 1781 an article on a French super-centenarian followed immediately after a report of Cagliostro’s age-defying alchemical remedies (MV, May 22, 1781, no. 41, 320). MV, July 6, 1782, no. 54, 430-3. The article cites examples from Book 7, chap. 48 of Pliny’s Natural History. See Pliny, Pliny’s Natural History, vol. 1, trans. Philemon Holland (London: George Barclay, 1847-8), 234-6. It also discusses the contemporary case of Christian Jacobsen-Drakenberg (1626?-1772), a Norwegian sailor who resided in Aarhus in Denmark. See The Gentleman’s Magazine and Historical Chronicle (May 1781), 221. “Anekdoty o Tomase Parre,” MV, August 24, 1782, no. 68, 543-4. On Thomas Parr see John Taylor, The Old, Old, Very Old Man (London: Henry Gosson, 1635). MV, March 27, 1779, no. 25, n.p. 495 other words, the mother’s imagination had been so agitated by seeing the owl that her unborn foetus was subsequently (re)formed in the likeness of the bird.27 A number of curious news items addressed purported demonstrations of occult powers inherent in nature. In October 1779, for example, the newspaper featured a report on a curious green horn that was on display in the imperial cabinet of rarities in Vienna. This horn, which belonged to a four-legged Japanese lizard, apparently turned black when it was close to poisonous plants.28 Furthermore, in April 1780 a lengthy account was published regarding how a Siennese woman was seemingly cured of convulsions by the sound of bells and music.29 The “Curious News” section of the MV also included regular items on wondrous medical cures achieved by European practitioners. Hence, together with the latest news on Mesmer’s magnetic cures, readers also learned of the electrical remedies demonstrated in Paris by Comus.30 Arguably the most sensational story appeared in April 1782 and concerned a famed physiognomist from Hamburg. Apparently he foresaw the deaths of several patients and warned them that they needed to use a special medicine he had made. On ignoring the doctor’s advice these naysayers all met sorry ends.31 These stories not only revealed the curious phenomena, wondrous cures and spectacular inventions prevalent in Western Europe, but also affirmed to Russian readers that their own curiosities mirrored those of their Western European peers. In the remainder of this paper I will examine a selection of exotic Western wondermongers who advertised in Russian newspapers from the late 1750s. While these itinerant salesmen often had many strings to their bows, it is still possible to discern three general categories that were promoted in Petersburg and Moscow: (1) the display of artificial and natural curiosities, such as automata and learned dogs; (2) wondrous medical cures; and (3) performances of natural magic. Automata, Dwarfs, Learned Dogs and the Russian Public On December 19, 1755, Pierre Dumoulin announced to the readers of the SV that he would be exhibiting various amazing automata, among other curiosities, on Millionaia Street, in the mansion of his new patron Count P. B. Sheremetev.32 Dumou27 MV, July 17, 1779, no. 57, n.p. On learned debates about the role of maternal imagination in the birth of “monstrous” babies, see M. H. Huet, Monstrous Imagination (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1993), 56-78. On the issue in Russia, see Steven Usitalo's article in this volume. In May 1780 the MV included a report from Prague about a 60-year-old Jewish woman giving birth to two boys and two girls in the seventh month of her pregnancy (MV, May 6, 1780, no. 37, 295). Interestingly, in 1788 the Magazin natural’noi istorii, fiziki i khimii included a serious account of a human-like sea creature (“Morskoi chelovek”). See Magazin natural’noi istorii, fiziki i khimii, 4 (Moscow: Moscow University, 1788), 159-160. 28 MV, October 5, 1779, no. 80, n.p. 29 MV, April 25, 1780, no. 34, 271. 30 On Mesmer’s cures, see, for example, MV, 23 May 1780, no. 42, 335-336. On Comus, see MV, October 4, 1783, no. 79, 629. Comus was the stage name of Nicolas-Phillipe Le Dru. For more on Comus as an electrical healer, see Jean Torlais, “Un prestidigitateur célèbre, chef de service d’électrothérapie au XVIIIe siècle, Ledru dit Comus, 17311807,” Histoire de la medicine, 5 (1955), 13-25. 31 MV, April 27, 1782, no. 34, 271-272. 32 SV, December 19, 1755, no. 101, n.p. 496 lin’s advertisement can be regarded as heralding the arrival of a new type of European in the Russian capital: the wondermonger who sought profit from the public display of amazing automata and other curiosities and from the sale of a rich variety of rare secrets. Significantly, while projectors of various hues had sought royal or court patronage well into the eighteenth century for their alchemical secrets, perpetual motion machines and longitudinal devices, these intrepid individuals never marketed their wonders to anything resembling a paying public audience. Those paying fifty kopecks to see Dumoulin’s show could expect to be entertained, among other things, by automata– “a little Hollandaise who weaves 18 inches of ribbon a minute; equally a canary in a cage which sings many arias as if it were alive.” Dumoulin’s reputation for displaying ingenious automata preceded his arrival in St. Petersburg. In 1742 he had purchased the celebrated machines of Jacques de Vaucanson, including his defecating duck, flute player and tambourine player. Thereafter Dumoulin had displayed considerable marketing skills as he exhibited Vaucanson’s automata throughout Germany.33 Dumoulin apparently brought some of Vaucanson’s automata with him to Russia, as by 1764 the tambourine player and other creations were on display at Tsarskoe Selo.34 In February 1759 Dumoulin began advertising in the MV, with pride of place in his cabinet of artificialia still belonging to the weaver (which had now miraculously become a peasant woman from Bern) and the singing canary.35 However, in March Dumoulin announced that he had recently completed a moving frog automaton that he had “long laboured” to construct. This frog could allegedly tell the time on a clock and could swim in a pot. Dumoulin further declared that he would perform several experiments on an electrical machine, thereby enabling the Muscovite public to witness first-hand the wondrous spectacles produced by this new invention.36 In the wake of Dumoulin’s success in Russia, other European wondermongers sought to cater to the Russian public’s fascination with automata. The vogue for automata in Russia formed part of a wider European preoccupation with a type of mechanical machine that played with the boundary between art and nature. As Minsoo Kang has recently demonstrated, in the Renaissance automata fulfilled a liminal role between magic and mechanics in the European imagination.37 Salomon de Caus argued in the 33 34 35 36 37 André Doyon and Lucien Liaigre, Jacques Vaucanson: Mécanicien de genie (Paris: Presses universitaires de France, 1966), 92. Johann Beckmann, A History of Inventions, Discoveries and Origins, vol. 2, trans. William Johnston (London: Henry G. Bohn, 1846), 136. MV, February 5, 1759, no. 11, n. p. MV, March 19, 1759, no. 23, n.p. Dumoulin (1713-1788) subsequently lived in Moscow for a number of years. In March 1761 he was appointed mécanicien and master of instruments at Moscow University and an assistant to Johann Rost, professor of physics. He was fired for negligence in 1765, but managed to remain in his post until 1772. For a brief biography of Dumoulin, see Anne Mézin and Vladislav Rjéoutski, eds., Les Français en Russie au siècle des Lumières, vol. 2 (Ferney-Voltaire: Centre International d’étude du XVIIIe siècle, 2011), 285. For documents relating to his position at Moscow University, see N. A. Penchko, ed., Dokumenty i materialy po istorii Moskovskogo universiteta vtoroi poloviny XVIII veka, 3 vols. (Moscow: MGU, 1960-1963): 1: 205-206, 327; 2: 90-106, 226-7; 3: 14, 31-33, 89-90, 95-7, 99, 101, 103, 105, 116-7, 424-5. Minsoo Kang, Sublime Dreams of Living Machines: The Automaton in the European Imagination (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2011), 55-102. 497 early seventeenth century that automata were wonderworking creations that encouraged a noble form of curiosity.38 The ambiguous nature of automata and their continued association with natural magic provided the perfect vehicle for enterprising prestidigitators seeking to amaze audiences. By the mid-eighteenth century the stage for such thaumaturgical displays had moved far beyond the confines of royal courts and into the burgeoning realm of public spectacles.While the significance of automata in eighteenth-century European culture has been recognized by a number of historians in recent years, little attention has been paid to their popularity in Russia.39 Yet, in the wake of Dumoulin’s demonstrations in Petersburg and Moscow in the 1750s, a host of wondermongers sought to capitalize on a new lucrative market in Russia. Thus, in January 1762, for example, two miners from the Electorate of Saxony advertised in the MV that they were exhibiting “curious and amazing machines” in their apartment in old Basmannyi. On display would be an automaton replicating a miner digging for silver and gold in the Saxon mountains and dressed appropriately.40 The demand for automaton shows in Petersburg and Moscow did not wane in the 1770s. On April 20, 1771, for example, a Swabian mechanic took out a lengthy announcement in both Russian and German in the SV in order to promote the exhibition of “an almost living starik from Swabia” at the Gorod London traktir. This geriatric automaton was evidently still in full possession of his faculties, as he was advertised as being able to move his eyes and limbs. More impressive still was his ability to “answer any question loudly and clearly.” For example, he could tell his age, identify the color of a dress, and was able to accurately guess the date of a coin and the place it was minted when placed in a box. The old automaton was also not devoid of social skills, being able to smoke and play cards at table.41 A mechanic named Megelius introduced a biblical theme when he advertised to the readers of the SV in May 1776 that “the head of Holofernes”(which had been cut off by Judith) would soon perform for them in the Gessendarmshtat traktir. As with the Swabian starik, Holofernes’ head was able to speak clearly and answer questions.42 Evidently Megelius’ automaton proved popular with his Russian audience, as it was still being exhibited to Muscovites in 1792.43 Furthermore, in January 1778 an American named Blank announced he would soon display three automata to the esteemed 38 39 40 41 42 43 Alexander Marr, “Gentille curiosité: Wonder-working and the culture of automata in the late Renaissance,” in Curiosity and Wonder from the Renaissance to the Enlightenment, ed. R. J. W. Evans and Alexander Marr (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2006), 151. See, for example, Adelheid Voskuhl, Androids in the Enlightenment: Mechanics, Artisans and Cultures of the Self (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2013); Kang, Sublime Dream; Julie Park, The Self and It: Novel Objects in Eighteenth-Century England (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2010); Jessica Riskin, “The Defecating Duck, or, the Ambiguous Origins of Artificial Life,” Critical Inquiry 29, no. 4 (2003): 599-633; Simon Schaffer, “Enlightened Automata,” in The Sciences in Enlightened Europe, ed. William Clark, Jan Golinski and Simon Schaffer (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1999), 126-165; Mark Sussman, “Performing the Intelligent Machine: Deception and Enchantment in the Life of the Automaton Chess Player,” Drama Review 43, no. 4 (1999): 81-96. MV, January 11, 1762, no. 4, n.p. SV, April 20,1771, no. 34, n. p. SV, May 6, 1776, no. 37, n. p. MV, January 3, 1792, no. 1, n. p. 498 Fig. 1 Portrait of C. H. Stöber in J. C. Lavater, Physiognomische Fragmente, vol. 4 (Leipzig: Weidmanns Erben & Reich, 1778), 72. 499 Muscovite public: a Tirolian woman sitting at a table, able to do everything a living person is able do; a merchant from Salzburg, able to open and close his workshop and to correctly identify the color of a piece of cloth; and a figure representing Bacchus who could pour water and wine on request.44 It would seem that automata were the most popular form of artificialia on display for curious Russians in the second half of the eighteenth century. Exhibitions of natural curiosities seem to have been slightly less common, although far from rare. Apart from singing giantesses, the public could also enjoy numerous displays of other freaks of nature.45 Most notably, in March 1782 the well-known dwarf Catharina Helena Stöber advertised to the Muscovite public that they could view her at a St. Petersburg tavern on Miasnitskaia Street. As well as stating her inconsiderable height (two feet six inches), Stöber proudly promoted the fact that her portrait had been included in J. C. Lavater’s Physiognomische Fragmente. Readers familiar with Lavater’s pivotal work on physiognomy could corroborate this claim, as a facial profile of Stöber (see Fig. 1 above) was indeed printed in the section dedicated to dwarfs.46 As Stöber’s advertisement testifies, the exhibition of monsters and other assorted “freaks of nature” was no longer a royal prerogative, as it had been during the reign of Peter Great. Yet such displays were also not merely popular entertainment, suggested by the fact that Stöber deliberately targeted her announcement to a learned audience familiar with the works of Lavater. Arguably the most curious of all the displays of naturalia took place in Peters- burg between October and December 1771, when a learned Spanish dog named “Petimervel’” displayed his talents to the public.47 The initial advertisement for the chien savant, which appeared in the SV on October 4, 1771, boasted that the dog was able to converse in French, German and Dutch, as well as being able to read printed and handwritten texts. Furthermore, Petimervel’ was able to tell the time, solve arithmetical problems, consult astronomical charts and calendars, as well as knowing “all forms of money, French and German cards and able to distinguish colors.” This multi-talented canine could also entertain spectators by dancing figures on his hind legs. As was customary, the nobility (znatnyia osoby) were entitled to pay what they saw fit, while all others had to pay fifteen kopecks.48 Two months later the dog was still entertaining audiences in Petersburg. The familiarity of the Petersburg public with the spectacle of a learned dog may have prompted the promoter to boast that the canine had been praised at many European courts and by many princes. Moreover, the chien savant had evidently been seeking to win over the local public in the preceding two months, as it was now claimed that he could speak “Russian somewhat.”49 44 45 46 47 48 49 MV, January 17, 1778, no. 5, n. p. In May 1787 an Italian named Dominicini announced to the readers of the MV that he would shortly display a troupe of giants and people with bodily abnormalities (MV, May 8, 1787, no. 37, 350). J. C. Lavater, Physiognomische Fragmente, vol. 4 (Leipzig: Weidmanns, Erben and Reich, 1778), 72. Evidently a Russian corruption of “Petite Merveille” (Little Marvel). SV, October 4, 1771, no. 79, n.p. Those wishing to witness these extraordinary feats were informed that the dog would perform every evening in “the new stone house between Krivaia and Ofitserskaia Streets.” SV, December 6, 1771, no. 97, n.p. 501 Similar displays by learned dogs had been popular in France and England since at least 1729. At that time the English press reported how a chien savant had demonstrated her considerable skills to Parisians.50 By February 1731 this “famous French dog” was in London. According to a contemporary newspaper report, the dog “plays at cards with surprizing dexterity, and performs many wonderful tricks.”51 In the early 1750s a second French chien savant named Charmont performed in London and the provinces.52 Spectators witnessed the canine’s prodigious talents at reading, writing, answering questions in French, English and Latin, solving arithmetical problems, as well as distinguishing “all the different Current English Coins” and being able to show “the Colour of any Person’s Cloaths.”53 Judging by this description of Charmont’s talent, it would seem that the entrepreneurial promoter behind the Spanish chien savant that performed in Petersburg was familiar with the stock repertoire of such canines in England and France. Thus, as peculiar as it may seem, the performances of Petimervel’, while far from original, represent a distinct aspect of Russia’s process of Westernization: the importation of wondrous spectacles performed before curious paying consumers. The Promotion of Well-Being: Rare Remedies and Electric Machines As Roy Porter noted in relation to eighteenth-century England, “quack doctors took eager advantage of the new prospects for reaching a mass audience through advertising.”54 A survey of the advertisements featured in the Petersburg and Moscow gazettes reveals a similar cultural phenomenon occurring in the metropolitan centres of Russia in the second half of the eighteenth century. However, whereas a significant proportion of quacks in England were home grown practitioners, in Russia they were exclusively European. In general these purveyors of rare secrets were able to capitalize upon the Russian reading public’s perceived notions of European learning and superior medical knowledge. Thus, in a very real sense these quacks were able to thrive in Russia because of the process of Westernization and the interrelated Enlightenment ideal of the dissemination of knowledge. However, this diffusion of learning was unhampered in Russia by any form of regulation or quality control. Hence the emergence of a reading public represented a golden opportunity for European quacks – especially after the conclusion of the Seven Years’ War in 1763 – to promote many wondrous elixirs with little fear of being held to account. In an era when Russia still suffered from plague epidemics and the market for remedies was unregulated, it is unsurprising that a host of itinerant European medical practitioners travelled to Russian cities to ply their trade. Some catered directly to specific fears and problems by advertising secret cures for chronic diseases and afflictions that 50 51 52 53 54 Weekly Medley, September 6, 1729, n.p. Grub Street Journal, February 25, 1731, n. p. The General Advertiser, January 4, 1752, n. p. Thomas Halley, The Exercises of the Chien Savant; or, Learn’d French Dog (London, n. p., 1750), n.p. Roy Porter, Quacks – Fakers & Charlatans in Medicine (Stroud: Tempus, 2003), 53. 501 affected humans and livestock. In 1772 and 1773, for example, the Greek doctor Ivan Ksantopul took out advertisements in the SV in order to promote his remedy for cattle plague, which at the time was at pandemic levels throughout large parts of Europe.55 With much bravado, in keeping with the bold boasts of quacks throughout Europe, Ksantopul informed readers: And when Russia would like to know [the secret remedy] and use it to her advantage, he asks that he be notified when a proper reward is granted him: then he obligates himself to soon reveal all together with the aforementioned experiment, so that everyone, and even the lowest standing person . . . will be able to maintain their cattle without effort and expense at any time.56 The outlandish confidence exhibited by Ksantopul was mirrored by many irregular European medical practitioners in Russia throughout the 1770s. On October 16, 1778, for example, the Pellie brothers from Metz began to advertise in the SV about their singular ability to cure those afflicted with blindness: “They are able to cure blindness by extracting the pupils of people of all ages.” Apparently they had successfully performed this rather barbaric operation in Copenhagen, Hamburg and Stockholm prior to their arrival in Petersburg.57 Two weeks later they announced that they had successfully cured Akulina Grigor’eva, the wife of Samoil Pozhin of the Fifth Company of the Izmailovskii Lifeguards.58 At the same time as the Pellie brothers were promoting their wondrous skills as ophthalmologists, a certain dentist (zubnyi vrach) named Schubert also began to advertise his abilities.59 According to his many advertisements, which appeared in the Russian press until the 1790s,60 Schubert possessed dentistry skills worthy of a contemporary practitioner in Hollywood: as well as being able to swiftly and painlessly remove teeth, he also offered to clean teeth completely. Most intriguingly, he claimed to be in possession of an elixir and opium that were able to preserve teeth in the finest condition. In addition to his astonishing skills as a tooth doctor, Schubert also professed to be able to remedy all laryngeal afflictions.61 Other itinerant quacks such as the Italian Antonio Bono offered a wide variety of nostrums. In 1776, Bono visited both Petersburg and Moscow, where he took out lengthy advertisements describing his “rare secrets.” These included powders for whitening teeth (evidently a major concern for the Russian elite), removing calluses and facial blemishes, as well as permanently stunting the growth of beards.62 In March 55 See C. A. Spinage, Cattle Plague: A History (New York: Kluwer Academic/Plenum Publishers, 2003), 133-160. 56 SV, July 30, 1773, no. 61, pribavlenie. 57 SV, October 16, 1778, no. 83, 1098. 58 SV, October 30, 1778, no. 87, 1171. 59 SV, October 9, 1778, no. 81, 1073. 60 Schubert advertised in the MV until at least March 1792. See MV, March 27, 1792, no. 25, 510. 61 MV, October 9, 1778, no. 81, 1073. 62 Bono first advertised in St. Petersburg in February 1776. See SV, February 12, 1776, no. 13, n.p. By September 502 1784 a fellow Italian named Gorini offered Muscovites a balsam named essence de Savon à Montpellier, which could reputedly heal all manner of wounds, burns and boils.63 In the same month someone named Franki, who claimed to be a former professor of chemistry in Vienna, advertised an assortment of amazing remedies in the MV, including a medicine for goitre which included snake’s tongue.64 However, the most successful and innovative medical practitioner in Moscow at this time seems to have been the aforementioned Giuseppe Maggi, who used an electrical machine to treat a large clientele between 1773 and 1787.65 With a notable absence of animal magnetists promoting their treatments in Russia at this time, it seems that the Italian was able to corner a similar market among impressionable Muscovites. Maggi was at the forefront of electrical medicine in Russia at a time when similar practitioners were flourishing across Europe. In recent years a number of scholars have enriched our knowledge of the activity and cultural significance of those seeking to promote electrical cures to an expanding clientele in England, Germany, Italy and France.66 However, Maggi’s pioneering role as the first purveyor of such a form of medicine in Russia remains unstudied. This stands in contrast to the later advocacy of medicinal electricity by A. T. Bolotov, who in 1791 began using an electrical machine for curative purposes.67 It may well be that the irregular nature of Maggi’s medicinal work – in short, his quackery – has led historians to overlook the fascinating role the Italian played in promoting electric medicine to the Muscovite public. Medical electricity, after all, was far removed from the respectable research of “high” scientists and physicians in established institutions, such as Academy of Sciences in Petersburg or Moscow University. Indeed, the manner in which Maggi went about promoting his medical skills in Moscow bears great similarity to the methods of contemporary proponents of animal magnetism and, more generally, early modern quacks, as outlined by Roy Porter: an individual entrepreneur; the promotion of sensational cures; a reliance upon testimonials; exoticism and the propagation of a pseudo-scientific image.68 Maggi first advertised in the MV on March 3, 1777, when he announced that he was able to cure numerous internal and external afflictions, but particularly convulsions and paralysis, through the use of an electrical machine. The Italian, who according to one mid-nineteenth source had been an assistant to Johann Rost, a professor of physics at the University of Moscow, claimed that he had perfected his method of elec- 63 64 65 66 67 68 Bono was promoting his “rare secrets” in Moscow (MV, September 6, 1776, no. 72, n.p.). MV, March 23, 1784, no. 24, 232-3 MV, March 6, 1784, no. 19, 178-9. Various European wondermongers incorporated electrical machines into their spectacles, such as Pierre Dumoulin in Moscow in 1759 and a mechanic named Rospini in Moscow in 1782. See MV, March 19, 1759, no. 23, n. p., and MV, January 26, 1782, no. 8, n. p. See the recent works by Paola Bertucci, Oliver Hochadel, Paul Elliott and Hannah Sypher Locke and Stanley Finger. For Bolotov’s account of how he first began to use electrical machines for medicinal purposes in 1791, see, A. T. Bolotov, Zapiski Andreia Timofeevicha Bolotova, vol. 4 (St. Petersburg: V. S. Balashev, 1873), 867. For a discussion of Bolotov’s interest in medical electricity, see A. P. Berdyshev, Andrei Timofeevich Bolotov – vydaiushchiisia deiatel’ nauki i kul’tury 1738-1833 (Moscow: Nauka, 1988), 289-292. See Porter, Quacks, 11, 18, 60, 94, 98, 103. 503 trization (elektrizatsiia) in 1762.69 He advocated the administration of electric shocks and sparks channelled from a machine, as described in a contemporary description by Tiberius Cavallo: Beginning with a stream issuing out of a metal point, next using a wooden point, then small sparks,—, and lastly small shocks. . . . By turning the wheel of the machine swifter or slower, the stream of electric fluid may be regulated. . . . It is impossible to prescribe the exact degree of electrization that must be used for various disorders.70 While Maggi boasted of being able to cure patients suffering from paralysis or convulsions, in particular, he explicitly stated that his treatment could last for several months. In his first advertisement Maggi also announced publicly that he was treating patients in the home of Prince I. M. Kol’tsov-Mosal’skii. This information not only served a practical purpose, but also indicated that Maggi enjoyed the favor ofa nobleman. In October 1779 Maggi took out a further advertisement in the MV in order to set forth his credentials. In a style customary of many European quacks, Maggi sought to persuade readers of his expertise as a healer by citing a long list of serious ailments that he had cured over a period of twenty-four years, including the following afflictions: paralysis, epilepsy, convulsions, broken arms and legs, heart tremors, breathing difficulties, blindness, deafness and nervous conditions. Significantly, Maggi emphasized that he had recently completely cured a hysterical woman over a period of two months and twenty days.71 Animal magnetists frequently boasted of curing very similar conditions. Hysteria, in particular, was closely associated with the pioneering treatments employed by Franz Mesmer, as in the well-known case of Franziska Österlin in Vienna in the 1770s.72 For several years Maggi’s advertisements continued to announce that the medi- cal electrician had cured nameless patients from an impressive variety of afflictions. In March 1781, for example, Maggi advertised that he had successfully treated an eighteen-year-old youth suffering from severe epilepsy, as well as a bed-ridden fortyyear-old woman who had long been paralysed in her arms and legs.73 While Maggi displayed no reticence in proclaiming his wondrous cures between 1777 and 1784, he refrained from utilizing testimonials. It seems highly unlikely that Maggi sought to uphold the principle of patient anonymity. A more probable reason is that the Italian 69 Biograficheskii slovar’ professorov i prepodavatelei imperatorskago moskovskago universiteta, vol. 2 (Moscow: Universitetskaia tipografiia, 1855), 366. MV, March 3, 1777, no. 18, n.p. 70 Tiberius Cavallo, An Essay on the Theory and Practice of Medical Electricity (London: P. Elmsly, C. Dilly and J. Bowen, 1781), 26. 71 MV, October 23, 1779, no. 85, n.p. 72 On Mesmer’s treatment of Franziska Östlerin, see D. J. Lanska and J. T. Lanska, “Franz Anton Mesmer and the Rise and Fall of Animal Magnetism: Dramatic Cures, Controversy and Ultimately a Triumph for the Scientific Method,” in Brain, Mind and Medicine: Neuroscience in the 18th Century, ed. Harry Whitaker, C. U. M. Smith and Stanley Finger (New York: Springer Science, 2007), 301-320. 73 MV, March 6, 1781, no. 19, n.p. 504 Fig. 2 Illustration of Medicina electrica in J. G. Schäffer, Die electrische Medizin oder die Kraft und Wirkung der Electricität in dem menschlichen Körper (Regensburg, 1766). Image courtesy of the Wellcome Trust Library. 505 had yet to establish a respectable clientele who were willing to attest publicly that they, or their family or household servants, had resorted to such an irregular form of medical treatment. However, in December 1784 Maggi printed a lengthy announcement in the MV in which he provided details of eighteen cases in which he had cured individuals from an assortment of afflictions. For the first time this advertisement referenced patients from the households of specific individuals.Thus we learn that the seventeen-year-old son of Councilor (sovetnik) I. I. Postinkov, from the Tver’ region, had been cured of convulsions, trembling and a dead tongue during a two-month course of treatment. Maggi also attests that he had cured the thirteen-year-old daughter of a clergyman from the Church of the Prophet Elijah in Moscow who had been suffering from cramps in her legs. Moreover, Maggi cites various noblemen who had allowed members of their households to undergo treatment with the Italian’s electric machine. Thus we learn that ten and thirteen-year-old girls in the household of I. M. Arsen’ev had been cured of epilepsy and a cyst respectively. What is more, a twenty-six year-old man in the service of Chamberlain (kamerger) M. E. Lasunskii had been able to walk without crutches after receiving electric treatment on his left knee. The popularity of Maggi’s medical electricity seems to have peaked in Moscow in 1786 and 1787. In 1786 Maggi was able to publish a short sixteen-page booklet on medical electricity.74 While essentially a compilation of advertisements and testimonials, the publication is significant as it reveals that Maggi was actively practicing electrical medicine in Russia from 1773. On March 7, 1773, for example, Sil’vestr Vasil’evich Muromtsev, the vice-governor of Voronezh province, testified in writing that Maggi had cured many people in Voronezh.75 Moreover, in September 1786 the editors of MV provided Maggi with favorable exposure when they reported on how he had successfully cured three patients. These clients included: (1) a maid of Prince A. I. Gagarin, who suffered from uncontrollable shaking in her arms and legs; (2) Katerina Vel’iasheva, the wife of a second-major, who was also afflicted with severe pain and paralysis in her arms and legs; and (3) the wife of Colonel G. G. Osorgin, who was tormented by hypochondria and had apparently been deprived of all her sense and reason. However, after a lengthy treatment of five months she returned to good health.76 The following year Maggi published a further booklet, in French, on medical electricity.77 As a clear sign of his growing respectability among the Muscovite reading public, Maggi also succeeded in securing attestations in March 1787 from a number of 74 75 76 77 Giuseppe Maggi, Opyt o deistviiakh elektricheskoi mashiny v razsuzhdenii chelovecheskago zdraviia (Moscow: F. Gippius, 1786). Maggi, Opyt, 13. The booklet includes testimonials from other patients treated by Maggi in the 1770s. On August 2, 1775, for example, a certain Irina Khitrova testified that the electrical practitioner cured an ailment in the righthand of one of her servants (Maggi, Opyt, 11). Furthermore, the booklet states that on November 19, 1775, a certain Tamara Tred’iakovskaia was cured by Maggi of hysteria and stomach convulsions (Maggi, Opyt, 12). One other noteworthy testimonial dates from January 1, 1779, when Petr Spiridonovich Sumarokov confirmed that he witnessed Maggi cure a servant who had been unable to use his fingers (Maggi, Opyt, 15). MV, 16 September 1786, no. 74, 653-654. Relation des cures admirables et inouies depuis que l’électrisation est inventée, faites par M. J. M (Moscow, 1787). 506 prominent noblemen. General-Major A.I. Durnov, Count N.P. Sheremet’ev and M.P. Naryshkin all vouched for the efficacy of the Italian’s treatment of their household servants, who had suffered from epilepsy, paralysis and a variety of limb ailments.78 Interestingly General-Major Durnov’s attestation informed readers that his household maid had received treatment in the Catherine Hospital. This suggests that Maggi’s irregular practices were embraced, to a certain degree, by the medical establishment in Moscow.79 Yet, after securing prestigious attestations from some of the most powerful noblemen in Moscow, Maggi appears to have ceased practicing medical electricity. Ill health or death seems the most likely reason for this. Whatever the case, by 1787 Maggi had managed to enjoy a ten-year career of wondermongering in Moscow – an unrivalled feat among his European peers in Russia. This noteworthy achievement suggests that Maggi was highly adept at promoting his pseudo-scientific cures, yet it also attests to the fact that a sizeable market for such remedies existed among the reading public in late eighteenth-century Moscow. Conjuring Up a Spectacle: The Rise and Fall of Prestidigitators in Russia, 1772-1803 In the second half of the eighteenth century Europe witnessed the birth of the modern stage magician. Conjurors moved beyond traditional fairground settings and assumed learned titles such as “professor” and “natural philosopher” and increasingly marketed displays of “natural magic” as entertainment for wealthy city dwellers.80 By the early 1770s a market had evidently emerged in Petersburg and Moscow for a form of entertainment that cunningly played on occult associations and mystery. Ontological boundaries were deliberately blurred and educated audiences were fascinated by the liminality of the spectacles they paid to see. From rather modest and humble pretensions in the early 1770s, when performances received little promotion, the European prestidigitator increasingly gained in status among the Russian metropolitan elite. Indeed, by the turn of the nineteenth century, as will be demonstrated below, Pinetti was entertaining audiences in the most prestigious theaters in Petersburg and Moscow and received royal favour. Yet by the summer of 1803 Pinetti’s inflated sense of importance was irrevocably punctured, when a dalliance with ballooning came crashing to the ground and led to financial ruin. The Italian conjuror had overstepped the fine line inherent in all wondermongering when spectators’ curious awe turns into indignant scorn. Very little is known about the Jewish-American magician Jacob Philadelphia, but he is often cited as a pioneer of modern conjuring, someone who played upon his 78 79 80 MV, March 10, 1787, no. 20, n.p. Ibid. See Simon During, Modern Enchantments: The Cultural Power of Secular Magic (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2002), 85. 507 familiarity with occult traditions.81 It seems extremely doubtful that he entertained Catherine II in 1771, as some biographers have claimed,82 but he did “show his art” in Petersburg in 1772 and 1773. He seems to have first arrived in the city in February 1772, while a brief notice appeared on December 4 to announce that the iskuznik Philadelphia had returned and would perform in Tessin’s house on Admiralty Street.83 The aforementioned Bono also advertised in February 1776 that he would undertake experiments for inquisitive minds, without charge, which would demonstrate his rare secrets.84 In this sense, his displays of virtuosity were not intended as a profit-making venture in themselves, but served as a platform for the promotion of his assorted nostrums and other concoctions. Three years later the Italian Pinchi was more forthcoming than either Philadelphia or Bono in his marketing in St. Petersburg. Pinchi vigorously promoted a series of spectacles that were to take place in Perkin House on Nevskii Prospekt. In his advertisements the Italian wondermonger claimed that he was “highly skilled in natural magic” and that spectators would be amazed at his performance. Furthermore, Pinchi proclaimed that “his extraordinary art consists in converting some things into others and then making them all disappear.” The admission price to witness this spectacle of natural magic was fifty kopecks, without exception, thereby suggesting that Pinchi was largely dependent upon the takings from such shows for his livelihood. Similar advertisements appeared in the MV in April 1780, when Pinchi boasted that he was “famed throughout Europe for his extraordinary performances of natural magic.” Muscovites wishing to witness Pinchi’s virtuosity were informed that he was residing in the home of Prince S. B. Kurakin on Miasnitskaia Street and that groups of twelve could reserve an exclusive performance for the sum of twenty-five rubles.85 We know nothing more about Pinchi, which has led some commentators to erroneously speculate that the Italian magician was a persona adopted by Cagliostro.86 More likely Pinchi was simply one of the many European wondermongers who left no trace beyond the announcements published in Petersburg and Moscow papers. Whereas Pinchi soon fell into obscurity, the same is not true of Joseph Pinetti, who has been referred to as “the father of prestidigitators” and “the king of conjur- ing effects” in the late eighteenth century.87 Yet despite Pinetti’s renown remarkably 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 For more on Philadelphia, see J. F. Sachse, “Jacob Philadelphia, Mystic and Physicist,” Publications of the American Jewish Historical Society 16 (1907), 73-84; Reinhard Buchberger, “Jüdische Taschenspieler, kabbalistische Zauberformeln,” in Rare Künste: zur Kultur- und Mediengeschichte der Zauberkunst, ed. Brigitte Felderer (Vienna: Springer, 2007), 151-166; D. Jütte, “Haskala und Hokuspokus: Die Biographie Jakob Philadelphias (ca. 1734-1797) und ihre Implikationen für die deutsch-jüdische Geschichte,” Zeitschrift für Biographieforschung, Oral History und Lebensverlaufsanalysen 20 (2007), 40-51. Jütte, “Haskala und Hokuspokus,” 41. See SV, February 14, 1772, no. 13, n.p.; December 4, 1772, no. 97, n.p.; December 11, 1772, no. 99, n.p.; December 25, 1772, no. 103, n.p.; January 1, 1773, no. 1, n.p. SV, February 12, 1776, no. 13, n. p. MV, April 8, 1780, no. 29, 206. I. N. Bozherianov, Sankt-Peterburg: Nevskii prospekt (Moscow: Belyi gorod, 2007), 294. See Graziani, Giovanni Giuseppe... Pinetti, in which the sub-title of the book refers to Pinetti as “padre dei prestigiatori”; and During, Modern Enchantments, 92. 508 little has been written about his extensive residence in Russia between 1797 and his death in the second half of 1803. Pinetti was the first wondermonger to perform in established theaters in Paris (1783) and London (1784), and in July 1797 he made his debut in Petersburg at the prestigious Stone Theater (Kamennyi teatr). By this time his performances were known across Europe for entertaining audiences with a kaleidoscopic array of wondermongering. Prior to his arrival in Russia, Pinetti had enjoyed considerable success in Prussia, where in June 1796 he performed before Friedrich Wilhelm II at the Schloss Theater in Potsdam. Indeed, according to a contemporary Prussian journal, the monarch was so enthused by Pinetti’s skills that he granted the conjuror ownership of the Döbbelinsches Theater in Berlin.88 We know that Pinetti had at least one fierce adversary in Berlin, in the form of J. W. A. Kosmann, a professor of mathematics at the Prussian Military Academy, who between 1796-1797 published a two-volume exposé of the conjuror’s tricks.89 Did Kosmann’s exposé help to drive Pinetti out of Prussia, or had the prestidigitator simply exhausted his market? Whatever the case, Petersburg was the next destination of this much-travelled stage magician. Little is known about Pinetti’s initial performances at the Stone Theater in Petersburg. On July 24, 1797, SV reported that the Italian had given his third performance the previous day, and that it had received a warm reception by the audience.90 Pinetti’s performances also elicited the curiosity of Emperor Paul. This is testified by Stanislaw August Poniatowski, the last king of Poland, who describes how on August 31, 1797, Pinetti gave a “representation of his tricks” at the royal residence of Gatchina in the presence of the Russian emperor.91 By December 1797 Pinetti had migrated to Moscow and embarked upon a comprehensive advertising campaign in the MV. This bout of salesmanship, which lasted until the following March, enables us to glean a good idea about Pinetti’s advertising strategy in Moscow, as well as about the content of his spectacles. The first notice of Pinetti’s arrival appeared in the MV on December 9, when he announced a series of performances to take place between December 18 and 22 at the Petrovskii Theater.92 Those readers not already familiar with the renown of the great conjuror were given the following brief biography: The first Physic of the Royal Prussian Court, Chevalier Pinetti, whose rare physical experiments are praised throughout Europe, and who has had the for88 89 90 91 92 Journal des Luxus und der Moden 11 (August 1796), 422. The theater was subsequently known as the Pinetti’ische Theater. For more on Pinetti’s links to this theater, see Matthias Hahn, Schauplatz der Moderne: Berlin um 1800 – Ein topographischer Wegweiser (Hanover: Wehrhahn Verlag, 2009), 387-406. J. W. A. Kosmann, Des Herrn Ritters Pinetti de Merci physikalische Belustigungen oder Erklärung der sämmtlichen in Berlin, 2 vols. (Berlin: Belitz and Braun, 1796-1797). SV, July 24, 1797, no. 59, n.p. Also see “Peterburgskaia starina. Novosti, ob”iavleniia i rasporiazheniia pravitel’stva 1797 g.,” Russkaia starina 11(1874), 590. S.A. Poniatowski, Mémoires secrets et inédits de Stanislas Auguste – Comte Poniatowski – dernier roi de Pologne (Leipzig: Wolfgang Gerhard, 1862), 197. For a description of the appearance of the Petrovskii Theater during Pinetti’s shows, see Joseph Pinetti, Fizicheskiia uveseleniia, ili iz”iasnenie (Smolensk: Gubernskaia tipografiia, 1801), xiv. 509 tune to show his art to HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY and all of the Imperial family at Pavlovsk and Gatchina, and also to the Respected Public at the Stone Theater in St. Petersburg, where he earned praise and approval.93 No specific details about the upcoming spectacles were given away in Pinetti’s initial Moscow advertisement. However, two days prior to the conjuror’s debut in Moscow a further announcement appeared in the same newspaper which provided a little more detail. The advertisement revealed, for example, that the theater would be illuminated and that music would be played. The price of admission for the nobility was discretionary, whereas tickets for others cost between 15 roubles for a seat in the first-floor box and twenty-five kopecks for a place in the second gallery.94 On February 6, 1798, Pinetti announced a further series of four spectacles. These were to be performed the following week in the theater belonging to the chamberlain (kamerger) N. N. Demidov in the Foreign Quarter (Nemetskaia sloboda) of Moscow. Unlike the advertisements for the shows at the Petrovskii Theater, Pinetti’s new promotional campaign divulged specific attractions spectators could expect to witness. First and foremost, Pinetti revealed that the audience would be able to view a “large automaton” (bol’shoi avtomat’) named the English Acrobat (voltigeur Anglois) “which will amaze spectators by dancing to music on a rope” and that had “delighted onlookers in London and Paris.”95 This was no false boast, as in December 1784, Pinetti had advertised to the London public that “a mechanical figure, of the size of a man” would “command dances on the rope and performs truly wonderful and stupendous attitudes and equilibriums, which it is thought to be absolutely beyond the power of even the most capital rope-dancers to imitate.” In 1784, Pinetti even claimed that “it was suspected . . . by some persons that his piece of mechanism was a living person.”96 While the tone of Pinetti’s promotion in Moscow was less triumphal, perhaps due to an appreciation of the different cultural mores of his new audience or simply as a result of familiarity, the automaton remained the centerpiece of his performances. The English Acrobat was evidently still a popular attraction in Moscow, judging by Pinetti’s announcement of four additional shows between February 28 and March 7 which he promised would all include the automaton. Alongside the mechanical acrobat, Pinetti also promised to perform many of his most well-known tricks. Thus, he emphasizes that the “so-called Palingénésie deserves special attention” as it “consists in returning natural flowers to their original state after burning them to ashes.” This trick – known as Le bouquet magique – featured in Henri Decremps’ exposé of Pinetti’s conjuring, La magie blanche dévoilée (1784), which had been published shortly after the Italian prestidigitator first performed in Paris.97 93 94 95 96 97 MV, December 9, 1797, no. 98, 1924. MV, December 16, 1797, no. 100, 1964. MV, February 6, 1798, no. 11, 237; MV, February 27, 1798, no. 17, 370. Public Advertiser, December 10, 1784, n.p. Henri Decremps, La magie blanche dévoilée ou explication des tours surprenants (Paris: Langlois Libraire, 1784), 510 Pinetti also promoted being able to nail a watch (selected from a member of the audience) to a wall with a shot from a pistol. This amazing feat was a slight variant on another of Pinetti’s most well-known tricks, which initially featured a card. As with the magical nosegay, this trick was included in Decremps’ attempt to debunk Pinetti’s early performances in France.98 Lastly, Pinetti also promoted an experiment in which he professed to be able to make an orange tree blossom and generate fruit in the space of several minutes. Once again, this was a trick that Pinetti had first demonstrated in Paris – as the Bouquet Philosophique – in 1783 and 1784.99 Akin to many veteran popular music performers in our own age, Pinetti seems to have drawn on a selection of “golden oldies” for his Muscovite audience. Interestingly, at the conclusion of his run of performances at Demidov’s theater Pinetti placed an advertisement in the MV which announced that “having completed his travels of Europe” he now had “to leave immediately for Berlin.” Consequently, he offered his “cabinet [for sale] to those amateurs or those persons who wish to study his art,” which would include his “grand automaton.” Moreover, as he was unable to travel with baggage, he was willing “to sell his cabinet at a very reasonable price.”100 Pinetti may well have returned to Berlin in 1798 in order to sell the Döbbelinsches Theater which he had acquired in 1796. If this was Pinetti’s intention, then he succeeded rather quickly, as by March 1799 the theater had been bought by Bartholomeo Verona.101 However, contrary to many biographical accounts, Pinetti did not die in either 1799 or 1800.102 It is true that there is a paucity of evidence regarding the conjuror’s whereabouts and activities between 1798 and 1800. However, we know from announcements and advertisements published in the MV between 1801 and 1803 that Pinetti was active in Russia in these years. Indeed, he evidently retained a degree of official favour for much of this time. Thus in 1801 the MV announced that Pinetti’s wife had given birth to a girl in Voronezh while the conjuror was performing in the city during a tour. This happy event in Pinetti’s life received royal blessing, as Emperor Alexander ordered A.B. Sontsev, the governor of Voronezh Province, to be godfather at the girl’s baptism.103 Furthermore, a similar announcement appeared in the MV on March 4, 1803, in order to inform readers that Pinetti’s second daughter had been christened on February 19 in the Voronezh governor’s home. According to the notice, “His Imperial Majesty Aleksandr Pavlovich” had instructed F. A. Pushkin, who had replaced Sontsev as governor, to be godfather. What is more, N.A. Khrushcheva, wife of General A. I. Khrushchev, was nominated as 98 99 100 101 102 103 50-52. See Decremps, La magie blanche, 15-18. For a description of this trick performed in Paris on January 1, 1784, see Mémoires secrets pour servir à l’histoire de la République des Lettres en France, vol. 25 (London: Adamson, 1786), 10. MV, March 10, 1798, no. 20, 442; March 13, 1798, no. 21, 474. The advertisement appeared in both Russian and French. Hahn, Schauplatz der Moderne, 404-405. For erroneous references to Pinetti passing away in 1799 or 1800, see, for example, Graziani Giovanni Giuseppe Bartolomeo Vincenzo Merci, 1-48; During, Modern Enchantments, 31. See Anatolii Kozhemiakin, “Illiuziia chuda. Sheval’e Pinetti,” Kommuna, February 27, 2007, accessed September 13, 2014, http://communa.ru/news/detail.php?ID=19645. 511 godmother.104 The Khrushchevs were prominent residents of Voronezh,105 which further highlights Pinetti’s respected status among the preeminent service nobility of Voronezh. In his memoirs, the famed magician and balloonist Étienne-Gaspard Robert, who was resident in Russia between 1803 and 1809, expressed his amazement that “Pinetti had the boldness to ask the Emperor if he would deign to take one of his children to the baptismal font” and added that it was “even more incredible…. that the Emperor consented.” While the Emperor did not personally become the godfather to Pinetti’s two daughters, as suggested by Robert, he did nominate and authorize two governors to take on this responsibility. It may have been pure coincidence that both his daughters were born in Voronezh, yet it is also possible that the famed Italian conjuror took up residence in the city between 1801 and 1803. It is possible that matrimonial ties cemented this link to Voronezh, as Robert notes in his memoirs that Pinetti married a Russian woman (the daughter of a carriage maker) and that they had two daughters together.106 Whatever the case, by May 13, 1803,Pinetti was once again in Moscow. This is indicated in an intriguing announcement he inserted in MV on this day: “Pinetti informs the Esteemed Public that due to illness he will not be able to demonstrate his inventions and experiments.” Moreover, Pinetti informs readers that he will not be able to reschedule his performances as he has prior commitments in Orel and then Petersburg. However, he holds out hope to readers by expressing his intention to return to Moscow the following winter.107 Either Pinetti was genuinely a busy man, with commitments throughout Russia in 1803, or he wanted to give that impression. The latter would seem to be nearer to the truth, as a mere two weeks after informing readers of his intention to leave Moscow Pinetti performed a remarkable volte-face. Thus on May 27 the Italian conjuror announced to readers of the MV that he had cancelled his plans to leave Moscow in order to construct an enormous balloon made of taffeta. A Venetian-style gondola would be attached to this balloon, which would enable three passengers to experience an aerostatic voyage above the skies of Moscow. In an extraordinary display of inflated showmanship, Pinetti also claimed that this balloon would be similar to the one in which he had supposedly flown in above Paris and Madrid in 1783, in the company of his wife. At an appointed time and place, which would be announced a week in advance, Pinetti and two others would repeat his aerial feats of two decades earlier for the benefit of the Muscovite public. What motivated Pinetti to undertake what was – despite his boastful claims – a voyage into unchartered (aerial) territory for a stage magician? In the advertisement he professed that his motivation for undertaking such an endeavor stemmed from a desire to present the “distinguished nobility and esteemed public” with a fitting testament of his gratitude for all the “benevolence they had rendered to him during his 104 MV, March 4, 1803, no. 18, 294. 105 On A. I. Khrushchev and his links to Voronezh, see A. N. Akin’shin and O. Lasunskii, Zapiski starogo peshekhoda (Voronezh: Petrovskii skver, 1995), 115. 106 É-G. Robert, Mémoires récréatifs scientifiques et anecdotiques, vol. 2 (Paris: Librairie de Wurtz, 1833), 334. 107 MV, May 13, 1803, no. 38, 648. 512 residence in Russia.”108 While Pinetti may have felt genuine gratitude towards the Russian public, his pride and indomitable theatrical spirit had also been piqued by Russia’s first outbreak of balloonomania. Pinetti had not initiated this belated bout of aerial wondermongering in Russia, but he seized upon an entrepreneurial vision in which he would out do his rivals by staging the most spectacular demonstration of his aerostatic prowess. The outbreak of balloonomania in Russia, which can be dated to October 1802 and which lasted for at least three years, was dominated by a fascinating array of European wondermongers. Nearly half a century after Pierre Dumoulin first ventured to St. Petersburg with various astonishing automata, the rise of balloonomania in Russia led one European wondermonger – Étienne-Gaspard Robert – to proclaim that the country at this time had become a “veritable Eldorado.”109 The somewhat delayed ascent of balloonomania in Russia can be attributed in large measure to Catherine the Great. On April 4,1784, the Empress issued an edict that banned balloon flights between March 1 and December 1 on the grounds that they posed a fire hazard.110 The risk of balloons causing conflagrations was real. However, Catherine may well have feared (as other state authorities in Europe did to varying degrees) the repercussions relating to public order when huge, expectant and loosely controlled crowds gathered to witness such spectacles.111 Moreover, she may well have ostensibly viewed balloonists as unsavory adventurers who should be discouraged from seeking their fortunes in Russia. After all, as Paul Keen has recently noted, balloonists in the 1780s were described as “flying conjuror[s]” and “air balloon bottle conjuror[s],” who along with other charlatans and showmen “were adept at attracting a paying audience with outrageous stunts rather than engaging in genuine experiments.”112 The associa- tion between conjurors and ballooning was strengthened by the fact that a number of wellknown prestidigitators, such as Katterfelto in England, incorporated aeronautical spectacles into their repertoire in the mid-1780s. The “daredevil tradition” that connected aerostatic voyages and natural magic was continued in Russia in the early nineteenth century, although, as mentioned, Pinetti was not the instigator of balloonomania. This accolade belongs to a certain Professor Cerny, reportedly from Bohemia, who on October 3, 1802, announced in the SV that he would launch his aerostatic machine from the parade ground of the First Cadet Corps based in the Menshikov Palace on Vasil’evskii Island in Petersburg.113 Evi108 MV, May 27, 1803, no.42, 712-713. 109 Robert, Mémoires récréatifs, 2: 329. 110 See Polnoe sobranie zakonov Rossiiskoi imperii s 1649 g., 22 (St. Petersburg: II Otdeleniia Sobstvennoi E. I. V. Kantseliarii, 1830), 89. For a discussion of the ban on balloon flights in Russia, see J. T. Alexander, “Aeromania, ‘Fire-Balloons,’ and Catherine the Great’s Ban of 1784,” The Historian 58, no. 3 (1996), 497-516. 111 On the reactions of state authorities to ballooning spectacles in the late eighteenth century, see Michael R. Lynn, “Controlling the Skies: States and Balloons,” chap. 4 in The Sublime Invention: Ballooning in Europe, 1783-1820 (London: Pickering & Chatto, 2010), 89-118. 112 Paul Keen, “The ‘Balloonomania’: Science and Spectacle in 1780s England,” Eighteenth-Century Studies 39, no. 4 (2006), 517. For a description of Vincenzo Lunardi as a “flying conjuror,” see “Mr. Lunardi’s experiment of the Air Balloon,” The Political Magazine and Parliamentary, Naval, Military and Literary Journal (September 1784), 236. 113 SV, October 3, 1802, no. 79, n.p. 513 dently the authorities in the Russian capital were prepared to overlook Catherine II’s edict during the reign of Alexander I, as on October 15 Cerny received permission from the governor of Vasil’evskii Island to launch his balloon the following morning. According to a contemporary account, a large crowd gathered, including many leading dignitaries. Fate was not kind to Cerny, as when he tried to launch the balloon it burst before leaving the ground. Apparently “terrible disorder” ensued among the assembled spectators, with “noise, shouts and a crush,” and the cadets were forced to protect Cerny and his daughter from the threatening crowd.114 Cerny may have been severely harangued by the assembled onlookers in St. Petersburg, but his aborted spectacle can be regarded as marking the launch of an era of balloonomania in Russia. Undaunted by Cerny’s explosive failure, the following spring an Italian named Alessandro Terzi began to promote his upcoming aerostatic spectacles to the Muscovite public. On April 29, 1803, Terzi first notified the Muscovite public, by way of a customary advertisement in the MV, that he was a former pupil of Jean-Pierre Blanchard, the aeronautical pioneer, and that on 4 May he intended to “launch a large aerostatic balloon into the air.”115 Judging by his own testimony (contained in a further advertisement of May 6), this unmanned balloon flight was a remarkable success. The balloon had apparently been launched with the “hoped-for success” and had “sailed above Moscow for a very long time in view of all the inhabitants.” As if this spectacle was not sufficiently spectacular, Terzi also boasted of how assembled spectators had been entertained by his company with fireworks and a display of acrobatics and funambulism.The readers of the MV were notified that a similar event would take place on May 9, with the balloon landing near the Donskoi Monastery, at the home of Count A. G. Orlov-Chesmenskii.116 Terzi addressed his notices to the “esteemed public” and those “curious lovers of science and the arts.”117 In addition to offering flattering appeals to the public, Terzi evidently enjoyed the support of a noble patron, thereby helping to attach an air of respectability to his enterprise.Terzi continued to promote his aerostatic displays throughout May and June, each time describing the public’s acclaim for the previous spectacle. On May 13, for example, he proclaimed that the balloon he launched on May 9 had been accompanied by an 810-gun salute. Such lavish spectacles demonstrated the potential for other European wondermongers to profit from the Muscovite public’s appetite for aerostatic marvels. Less than four weeks after Terzi’s initial unmanned balloon ascent above Moscow, Pinetti launched what would turn out to be an ill-fated final hurrah in Russia. Not to be 114 F.V. Bulgarin, Vospominaniia Faddeia Bulgarina: Otryvki iz vidennago, slyshannago i ispytannago v zhizni, vol. 2, ed. D. M. Ol’khin (St. Petersburg: Eduard Prats, 1846), 64-65. For further descriptions of Cerny’s attempted balloon flight, see, F. V. Bulgarin and A. F. Smirdin, Opisanie priugotovlennago professorom Cherni vozdushnago shara s pokazaniem otkrytoi dlia podniatiia onago na vozdukh podpiski (St. Petersburg: Shnor, 1802); Iakov Zakharov, “O razlozhenii vody v ves’ma ogromnom snariade posredstvom raskalennogo zheleza.” Khimiia i zhizn’ 11 (1983): 17-19. 115 MV, April 29, 1803, no. 34, 580. 116 MV, May 6, 1803, no. 36, 610. 117 MV, May 13, 1803, no. 38, 658. 514 outdone by the considerable showmanship of his compatriot, Pinetti embarked upon an extravagant and foolhardy attempt to become a flying conjuror. Aeronautic spectacles had captured the Muscovite public’s imagination, and the lure of capturing a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow may well have been too much for Pinetti to resist. After all, he was already extremely well qualified, as the European wondermonger par excellence, to emulate and outdo the exploits of Cerny and Terzi. On June 3, a week after his initial announcement regarding his forthcoming aerostatic voyage, Pinetti tantalized the Muscovite public with further details about the grand spectacle that they could soon witness. He informed readers that he hoped to finish the balloon within two weeks. Furthermore, he revealed that he was in the process of constructing “an incomparable amphitheater exactly in the style of the Verona Arena” on Maidens’ Field (Devich’e pole), which would be “very strong and with all precautions so that the esteemed spectators will not be endangered.” Pinetti also assured readers that he would provide the exact day of the launch in one of the next issues of the MV, as well as revealing that “he himself would sit [in the balloon] along with one of his acquaintances.”118 Two weeks later Pinetti gave notice in the MV that he had “the honor to announce to the esteemed public” that his “genuine taffeta aerostatic balloon” had been completed. What is more, the public was informed that they could view the balloon between 9 o’clock in the morning and 8 o’clock in the evening (after paying 1 ruble) in a large hall on the first floor of the home of Mr. Streshnev in the center of Moscow.119 A month after his initial announcement, Pinetti gave notice on June 27 that his “genuine aerostatic balloon with all its instruments” would remain on display until July 3. Then, on July 5 the long-awaited launch would take place on Maidens’ Field, when Pinetti would be accompanied by Gaetano Pecci, who had helped him construct the balloon.120 Pecci was a Milanese maker of waxwork figures who at the time was displaying his cabinet of sculptures in Moscow.121 Prior to the launch, which was to begin at 6 o’clock in the evening, the Italian pair declared that they would circle the amphitheater in order to drink to the health of the “esteemed public.” When in the air they would “not fail to make a description” of what they experience. More theatrically, Pinetti promised to “produce several physical shots from a cannon in order to demonstrate the “power” of his new invention.122 According to Robert, Pinetti’s “very bizarre plan” entailed spending more than 25,000 francs on the amphitheater. Robert also provides a scathing description of the grand event itself, after emphasizing that he had rejected Pinetti’s offer of collaboration. Robert asserts that on the day of the launch two waxwork likenesses of Pinetti and Pecci, sculpted by the latter, were surreptitiously placed in the basket of the balloon. Appar118 MV, June 3, 1803, no. 44, 750. 119 MV, June 17, 1803, no. 48, 808. For the same advertisement, also see MV, June 20, 1803, no. 49, 823. 120 MV, June 27, 1803, no. 51, 845. 121 Pecci arrived in Moscow in 1802. For many years he had toured with his cabinet of waxworks, as well as staging a spectacle entitled “Theatrum Mundi.” See, for example, various advertising pamphlets, entitled Theatrum Mundi; oder Geographische Bühne, which Pecci published in Leipzig between 1813-1825. For an announcement of an exhibition of his waxworks in Milan in 1816, see Gazzetta di Milano, August 7, 1816, no. 81, 176. 122 MV, July 1, 1803, no. 52, 858 515 ently, the Italian aeronauts had constructed an escape chute that led into a concealed compartment below the launching stage which they planned to utilize prior to the balloon’s launch. This was lambasted by Robert as a “facetious idea… worthy indeed of a conjuror.”123 It would have been a remarkable achievement to pull off this grand act of deception. However, Robert claims that the supposedly inflammable gas used by Pinetti exploded prior to lift-off. Not only was the balloon reduced to ashes but “several spectators” also “had their clothes burned in various places.”124 Robert adds that this disastrous fiasco “occasioned the incarceration of one of the associates and the ruin of the other.”125 Given the dramatic nature of Pinetti’s fall from grace as testified by Robert, it is strange that contemporary Muscovites – in newspapers, journals and personal documents – apparently overlooked this sensational event. Stranger still is the fact that Robert was able to provide such an in-depth, first-hand description of the event despite the fact that he was in Hamburg at the time.126 In all likelihood Pinetti and Pecci perpetrated no such deception and endured no shameful humiliation.A more prosaic but plausible explanation is that the Italian wondermongers made no attempt to launch their balloon either on or after July 5, 1803. Despite lavish preparations and extensive advertising, the lofty plans of Pinetti and Pecci were undone by the aeronautical exploits of a famous rival in Petersburg. On June 20, 1803, only fifteen days before Pinetti’s planned launch, A.-J. Garnerin successfully took off and piloted a balloon from the parade ground of the Cadet Corps in Petersburg. Among the approving spectators were Emperor Alexander, Empress Elizabeth and Grand Duke Constantine.127 This achievement not only secured Garnerin a place in the history of Russian aviation, but in the short term also enabled the French aeronaut to monopolize the ballooning market in Petersburg and Moscow. Garnerin presented his triumphal flight as a serious scientific undertaking that involved various rigorous experiments and the recording of meteorological conditions. The emperor was evidently impressed by what he observed and consequently agreed to a request by 123 Robert, Mémoires récréatifs, 2: 332. 124 Ibid.,2: 333. 125 Ibid.,2: 332. 126 Between June and August 1803, Robert (using his stage name Robertson) undertook a series of balloon flights and conducted a number of experiments in Hamburg. On July 18 he set an altitude record in a Montgolfiére balloon. For various edited accounts by Robert of his flights and experiments see, Staats- und gelehrte Zeitung des Hamburgischen Correspondenten, July 2, 1803, no. 105, n.p.; July 19, 1803, no. 114, n.p.; July 23, 1803, no. 117, n.p.; July 26, 1803, no. 118, n.p.; July 30, 1803, no. 121, n.p.; August 12, 1803, no. 128, n.p.; August 13, 1803, no. 129, n.p.; August 19, 1803, no. 132, n. p.; August 20, 1803, no. 133, n.p. Robert departed Hamburg for St. Petersburg on August 26, 1803, and arrived in the Russian capital in September. For reports of his activities in the Russian capital in the autumn of 1803, see Staats- und gelehrte Zeitung des Hamburgischen Correspondenten, August 27, 1803, no. 137, n.p.; September 30, 1803, no. 156, n.p.; November 11, 1803, no. 180, n.p. On Robert’s ballooning exploits in Russia, see Ia. D. Zakharov, “Bericht des Herrn Akademicus Sacharow an die kaiserl. Akad. Der Wissenschaften zu Petersburg.” Annalen der Physik 20 (1805), 107-127; Tat’iana Smoliarova, “Vzlet kak vzgliad, ili Bel’giets v russkom nebe,” Novoe literaturnoe obozrenie 6 (2005), 126-142. 127 For a contemporary report on this event, see Staats- und gelehrte Zeitung des Hamburgischen Correspondenten, July 22, 1803, no. 116, n.p. For Garnerin’s own account, see André-Jacques Garnerin, Beschreibung der Drei Ersten Luftreisen die in Russland im Jahr 1803 vom Herrn Garnerin angestellt sind (St. Petersburg: Friedrich Drechsler, 1804), 9-11. For a recent biography of Garnerin, who in 1797 undertook the world’s first parachute jump, see Claude Perrin, La Vie rocambolesque d’ André Garnerin pionnier du parachute (Paris: Messène, 2000). 516 Garnerin that gave the Frenchman the sole right to perform “public aerostatic experiments in both capitals.” On July 2, 1803, the Governor-General of Moscow, Count Ivan Petrovich Saltykov, issued an order relating to this privilege. Saltykov clarified that individuals were not prohibited from undertaking private flights if they did not seek financial gain. However, the official order ends by explicitly prohibiting “the intended air voyage (vozdushnoe puteshestvie) of Chevalier Pinetti on the fifth day of this month.”128 In other words, the authorities denied Pinetti and Pecci the opportunity to emulate (if nothing else) the recent aeronautical exploits witnessed in Petersburg. More serious still was that after investing a vast sum of money in constructing a large balloon and a replica of the Verona Arena, as well as undertaking a lengthy promotional campaign, Pinetti and Pecci were deprived of the opportunity of recouping their outlay. The pair were faced with financial ruin, as testified by a legal case that arose in Moscow in August 1803. Documents related to the proceedings indicate that the Italians were sued by a certain Ivan Luk’ianov for the sum of 4,000 rubles and that the Italians sought financial recompense from each other as well.129 If one believes Robert’s memoirs, the financial tribulations faced by Pinetti after his disastrous aeronautical enterprise were too much for the Italian to bear. Fleeing his creditors, Pinetti apparently met his end in Berdychiv, in Zhitomir province of contemporary Ukraine.130 Regardless of the veracity of this account, Pinetti made no further public appearances in Russia (or elsewhere). Conclusion In many ways Pinetti’s inflated and ill-fated ballooning exploit not only marked the end of the conjuror’s grand career, but can also be viewed as bringing to a close the golden age of wondermongering in Russia. In the second half of the eighteenth century European prestidigitators and quacks encountered a wealthy and expanding public in Russia which had a voracious appetite for curious spectacles, pseudo-sci- ence and wondrous remedies. Yet this burgeoning Russian marketplace – viewed as a “veritable Eldorado” by some – was not hermetically sealed, and to a great extent was influenced by the fashionable demand for such spectacles and curious wares prevalent in Western Europe itself. After all, the Russian reading public was keen to emulate the tastes of their West European, particularly French, peers, who themselves had insatiable appetites for pseudo-scientific spectacles and purported cures. Such events and remedies formed a voguish and popular aspect of Enlightenment culture for many educated Russians. 128 “Predpisanie moskovskogo general-gubernatora I. P. Saltykova moskovskoi uprave blagochiniia o razreshenii garnerenu proizvodstva poletov na vozdushnom share,” July 2, 1803, no. 1747, f. 105, op. 7, sv. 1493, d. 4023, Central Historical Archive of Moscow (TsIAM), Moscow. Reproduced in V. A. Popov, ed., Vozdukhoplavanie i aviatsiia v Rossii do 1907 g., vol. 1 (Moscow: Gos. izdatel’stvo oboronnoi promyshlennosti, 1956), 25. 129 “O vzyskanii s innostrantsev Ivan Pinettii Gaitani Pegchi v udovletvorenii krest’ianina Ivana Luk’ianova po usloviiu 4000 rub,” TsIAM, f. 105, op. 7, sv. 1493, d. 4027, ll. 3-5. 130 Robert, Mémoires récréatifs, 2: 333. 517 As this demand waned in Western Europe during the tumultuous era of the French Revolution and the subsequent revolutionary wars, so the market for itinerant wondermongers in Russia also gradually began to shrink. Thus, while the likes of Pinetti may have looked to Russia at the close of the eighteenth century as a new arena for their spectacles, they were soon to see that the taste for wonder in the grand metropolises of this Empire had also lost much of its exotic flavor. 518