long time in various forms of ritual and healing ceremonies. Most people agree, however, that a recognisably modern practice of hypnosis began with Franz Anton Mesmer (1734-1815) who devised an approach to healing called Mesmerism. Mesmer was born in part of what is now Germany and studied both theology and law at university before turning his attentions to medicine. He was a very interesting and charismatic character and, although we recognise in his work the seeds of hypnosis, he didn’t actually develop the term hypnosis and misunderstood the hypnotic phenomena he undoubtedly evoked in his subjects. Mesmer based his therapeutic procedures on a completely different type of reasoning, derived from Newtonian physics, but we can say that he was definitely using hypnotic processes. Mesmer believed that all of us have an energy or life-force running through us that he called ‘animal magnetism’. He believed that problems, particularly psychological problems, developed if there was some blockage in this flow of energy which he likened very much to gravity. He developed techniques such as the laying on of hands and the making of ‘passes’ to direct this energy past particular blockages. He also believed in using magnetised instruments to re-direct this energy flow. Mesmer initially used magnetised rods but developed this idea further to believe that he could magnetise objects such as trees and other inanimate objects. Quite frequently he would do mass demonstrations, treating what was called at the time hysteria but which we would probably describe today as some form of severe anxiety problem. His demonstrations would often involve large numbers of people who would touch the object that had been ‘magnetised’ by Mesmer and would experience intense cathartic experiences during which they would wail, swoon, have seizures and exhibit all sorts of other dramatic behaviours. On other occasions the subjects would link hands and the ‘magnetic force’, introduced to one subject, would ‘travel’ from one subject to another like electricity passing along a cable. The remarkable thing is that although we now realise that the concept of ‘animal magnetism’ is false and that Mesmer’s subjects were almost certainly responding to the ‘demand characteristics’ of the situation, many of them nonetheless experienced authentic cures for their problems. Although Mesmer completely misunderstood the reasons for the phenomena he was provoking, he was almost certainly enabling his subjects to access states of trance and engage their own inner healing resources.
Mesmerism and ‘animal magnetism’ became a fashionable phenomena in many parts of Europe, not least of all due to the flamboyant and self-publicising nature of its founder. The attempts of Mesmer and some of his supporters to obtain official recognition for their methods led Louis XVI, in 1784, to set up a commission comprised of members of the French Faculty of Medicine and the Academy of Sciences. Their remit was to investigate the phenomena of Mesmerism and make findings upon it. Amongst the commission’s members were the American statesman and scientist, Benjamin Franklin; the distinguished chemist, Antoine-Laurent Lavoisier; and Joseph-Ignace Guillotin, the inventor of the instrument of death that bears his name. Unfortunately for Mesmerism the conclusions of the commission were damning and they reported that there was no such thing as animal magnetism. Whilst this finding in itself was quite correct the commission proceeded to throw the baby out with the bath water and failed to enquire with any sort of rigour as to what, if not some magnetic force, was producing the cures in Mesmer’s patients. This failure has been lamented by many, including the writer Robin Waterfield (2004, pp. 89 – 90), who commented:
“It is hard not to reproach the commission for short-sightedness. There were hundreds of testimonials of cures available to them… All right, they dismissed animal magnetism as nonsense; but something was causing the cures, and as scientists they should have looked into what it was: they might have appreciated the power of suggestion.”
Apart from their official report the commission also submitted a private report questioning the morality of Mesmerism. It is perhaps understandable that in the 1700s the prospect of usually male magnetisers making intimate ‘passes’ (physical movements of the arm and hands in close proximity to the body) over vulnerable women subjects, who then collapsed into spectacular paroxysms, should have appeared to have a strong sexual undercurrent. It was almost inevitable that tongues should have started wagging.
Following the commission’s report Mesmerism suffered a decline in credibility and, until Mesmer’s death from a stroke in 1815, the movement was primarily characterised by internal recrimination over points of doctrine and ownership of the intellectual property rights of Mesmerism. Although it had fallen from grace, however, Mesmerism did not die out completely and its influence continued in albeit a somewhat diminished form.
The next major figure in the history of hypnosis was John Elliotson (1791-1868). Elliotson was a highly respected London doctor who had helped found University College Hospital and was the author of a famous medical textbook of the day. Elliotson was also something of a medical pioneer and was one of the first doctors in London to use the newly invented stethoscope in his practice. Unfortunately, Elliotson was also an extremely prickly character who had a remarkable ability to fall out with people. Just as Mesmer’s flamboyance and high-handedness led to ad hominem attacks on Mesmerism, so Elliotson’s advocacy of hypnosis was vulnerable to criticism due to the cantankerous nature of its champion. Elliotson’s public demonstrations of Mesmerism, and his uncompromising defence of them, brought him into conflict with both hospital authorities and the recently founded medical journal, The Lancet. Like Mesmer, Elliotson also found himself on the receiving end of doubts expressed as to the sexual morality of his mesmeric practices. Disgusted by the response to his researches, Elliotson resigned from his positions with University College Hospital and the North London Hospital in 1838 and went into private practice. He later returned to the fray as founder of the journal Zoist, dedicated to advancing the cause of Mesmerism and through its pages engaged in running battles with his professional enemies.
At around the same time a Scottish surgeon by the name of James Esdaile (1808-1859) was obtaining remarkable results using mesmerism in medical practice in Calcutta in India. It is worth remembering that Esdaile was working before the advent of chemical anaesthetics, when the only relief from the agony of surgical procedures was alcohol. Even basic surgical procedures were a last resort and the patient was at risk from the trauma of pain, post-operative shock and problems associated with bleeding and infection. It is hardly surprising, therefore, that the mortality rate from surgical operations was approximately fifty per cent. Even those who survived were often psychologically shattered by their experiences. Esdaile experimented with the anaesthetic possibilities of Mesmerism and in 1846 he published a report on 345 operations carried out with Mesmerism as the sole anaesthetic. His conclusion was that Mesmerism had reduced the mortality rate from surgery from fifty per cent to five per cent. An official investigation into his claims was ordered. Esdaile was more fortunate than Mesmer and his findings were validated by the investigation. It would seem that with such spectacular results the stage was set for a resurgence in mesmeric practices. Unfortunately, this was not the case. Fast on the heels of Esdaile’s findings came the discovery of chemical anaesthetics (ether was introduced in 1846, chloroform in 1847) and the ease and simplicity of administering such agents catapulted them into popular medical usage. The alleged use of chloroform by Queen Victoria during childbirth in 1853 gave the new anaesthetics the appearance of Royal approval and Mesmerism faded from attention again.
The next significant figure was another Scottish doctor, James Braid (1795-1860), who trained in medicine at Edinburgh University. Braid, in the words of Robin Waterfield (2004, p.201):
“…laid the foundations for a sane and scientific study of hypnotism.”
Unfortunately, Braid’s efforts were hampered by the lingering suspicions surrounding the subject resulting from the personal excesses of Mesmer and Elliotson. It is interesting to note that Elliotson himself was not impressed by Braid who he described as “a most vain and swaggering mechanic”. The reasons for this hostility are obvious enough. Although Braid recognised that Mesmerism was producing remarkable results he believed that this had nothing whatsoever to do with animal magnetism or any actual substance being passed from the magnetiser to the subject. He dismissed such notions as red herrings and was also deeply sceptical of the idea that Mesmerised
