The Cannibal Club, which has a pivotal role to play -- as many marginal social networks do -- in bringing together Victorians from different classes and sociocultural backgrounds, apparently plays a role (or rather certain of its members do) in the life of our Emma.
As I mentioned in
an earlier post, Emma left behind, in the pages of the
Unseen Universe, a fragmented, poorly-written and abruptly-terminated novella,
The Mystery of No. 9 Stanhope Street, that I believe Emma wrote deliberately to connect her life with that of John Roddam Spencer Stanhope, the minor Pre-Raphaelite painter.
It is of course possible or even probable that no such connection actually exists: that Emma knew of Roddam Spencer Stanhope, but he knew naught of her. But Emma's dark hints -- and she is a dark hinter -- almost always contain a kernel of truth; she prevaricates and embellishes and accentuates, but she doesn't seem to fabricate things.
Internal details from the novel suggest that, some time during the period of her life about which we know little -- roughly, from 1835 to 1855 -- Emma served as an artist's model in addition to working as an actress (the details of which are amply documented), for Pre-Raphaelite painters or their associates, with the knowledge and indeed the commercial connivance of her mother, Ann Sophia.
It was fairly common for the painters in the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood (PRB) to use actresses as models; GF Watts (who was Roddam Spencer Stanhope's mentor and companion) married
the actress Ellen Terry to save her from the iniquities of theatre life, and despite the disparities in their ages.
And the timing -- we'd expect a member of the PRB to notice Emma at the theatre some time after 1844 -- is roughly right. Hunt, Millais and Rossetti are all doing significant work, involving artists' models, at this time, and we know -- from the scant biographical information Stirling (his first biographer, and the only reasonably available non-specialist treatment of him) provides us on Roddam Spencer Stanhope that RSS was studying with GF Watts beginning in 1850: leaving us a four-year window in which RSS could have met our Emma in one of the studios of Watts' cronies, which Stirling tells us he and Watts were in the habit of visiting, as they were in the habit of going to the theatre and sitting in the cheap seats.
RSS has, by 1855 when Emma vanishes to the Continent and then to New York, done no work of significance -- I believe his first public exhibition was in 1858, and his heyday, such as it is, begins with his participation in the painting of the Oxford Debating Union hall in 1857, and culminates in his work of the 1870s and 1880s. RSS was wealthy, asthmatic, and at loose ends in the early 1850s. And decidely single.
To talk about the PRB is to evoke -- in my mind anyway -- Algernon Charles Swinburne, who stood under the members of the PRB, painting the frescoes at the Oxford Debating Union hall, cracking jokes, reading poems, and occasionally playing tricks on people.
Swinburne is an old love of mine -- dating back to graduate school -- but he's more important in this context because he was the intimate friend of the man who casts a large shadow over the social networks Emma may have been connected with in the period 1835-1855: Richard Francis Burton.
I and others want to link Burton into the Orphic Circle, for a variety of reasons, and although Emma did not name him -- she could not, in her Sirius pieces, as (if Burton was a member of the Circle) he was still alive -- I believe we'll find evidence that Burton was a member of the Orphic Circle before long.
But, to talk of Burton -- in the 1860s, not the 1840s or 1850s,mind -- is to talk of Swinburne, and their expeditions together: mostly, into the dark places of drink (Swinburne's alcoholism became so damaging that he was taken in hand by Theodore Watts-Dunton and confined, for the last decades of his life, in Watts-Dunton's house in Putney), and alternative sexual practices.
Swinburne, like many of his generation, had been educated at Eton, where the rigorous corporate punishment program inculcated in him a life-long passion for birching: he liked being beaten, by women and by men.
And he liked writing about people being beaten -- flagellant pornography -- which he routinely shared with Burton (who most scholars believe was aggressively bisexual) and another close associate, Richard Monckton Milnes, Lord Houghton, who at the time had the largest private collection of pornography in England, and who was instrumental in rehabilitating Burton in the 1860s, and getting Burton his foreign service appointments. Monckton Milnes as also an intimate of Dickens and Disraeli, and a student of mesmerism, which interested him largely for sexual reasons - the control of a pliant female or male subject for sexual purposes (which Emma will run into, in New York, in the late 1850s, during the first "free love" controversy.).
Burton, in 1863, was the instigator behind the founding of what he referred to as "a new religion" and "a refuge for Destitute Truth", the Anthropological Society of London. The ASL was a collection of anti-evolutionists (at least in so far as the human species were concerned), eugenicists, anthropologists, and what would have been called, a couple of decades or so later, sexologists -- people interested in the ethnology of sexual practices. Monckton Milnes and Swinburne were both members of the ASL.
The ALS was in the habit of holding board and committee meetings in the early afternoon, and convening general sessions for paper-reading after 9 PM that same evening, leaving a gap in the schedule that was filled with a dinner society that quickly coalesced around pornography and sexual ethnology, and referred to itself as The Cannibal Club.
The Cannibal Club is famous among students of pornography: a quick
Google will give you more background that you want on the predilections of the Club's members.
What's interesting from our perspective is that there were significant open boundaries between the Cannibal Club and both the Theosophy Society and the Rosicrucian/occult circles in England.
Charles Carter Blake, the craniometrist/zoologist who was the ASL's curator and a member of the pornography-writing circle in the Cannibal Club subsequently became a prominent member of the TS and may in fact have known PB Randolph.
And Kenneth Mackenzie, intimate of Frederick Hockley, influencer of the Golden Dawn founders and author of the Royal Masonic Cyclopedia, was both a self-professed Cannibal Club member (see his entry below on the CC in the Cyclopedia) and (because Mackenzie was apparently a liar of some scale) recognized as a member by none other than Swinburne himself, with whom Mackenzie corresponded.
So what, right? Interesting chain of relationships, but what does it prove?
In the British Museum, there are pornographic works of Swinburne (I'm told) so graphic in their sadomasochistic detail that they may never see the light of day. The ones that have are graphic enough -- cruel, even vicious. Yet these men -- the Cannibal Club -- not only found these kinds of stories titillating, but also practiced flagellation and other alternative sexual practices on one another.
Some of the members of the Cannibal Club -- Milnes, James Plaisted Wilde -- were made peers; others, like John Studholme Hodgson, were made generals; others like Burton were made consuls; others like Swinburne came within a hair of being Poet Laureate of England.
And yet they had a secret, and a shared, passion for sadomasochism, catered to one another's needs, made the rounds of the London flagellant brothels together, subscribed to elaborate, expensive privately-printed pornography - and met for dinner regularly at Bartolini's Hotel in Leicester Square, where order was hammered on the collective dinner table (literally) with human bones, and where the catchecism of the Cannibal Club (written by Swinburne, but not published until after his death, by the noted literary forger TJ Wise, who did not forge this particular Swinburne poem) was recited, reading in part:
Preserve us from our enemies,
Thou who are Lord of suns & skies,
Whose meat & drink is flesh in pies
And blood in bowls!
Of thy sweet mercy, damn their eyes,
And damn their souls!
The cannibal of just behavior
Acknowledges the Lord his saviour,
With gifts of whose especial favour
He hath been crammed,
To whom an offering of sweet savour
Are all the damned.
If this sort of circle could flourish -- for years, from 1863 until 1869 -- in the heart of London, attracting wealthy and powerful men, none of whom (with the possible exceptions of Burton and Swinburne) were ever materially touched by the scandal of being associated with outre sexual practices, does Emma's story of being a clairvoyante for a similarly shadowy group of occult practitioners -- some of who may later become Cannibals -- seem far-fetched?
Not to me, it doesn't.
Emma -- as John Patrick Deveney points out -- loses her right to be considered in the vanguard of the modern occult movement for one reason: she has nothing to do with the link between sexuality and magic. She cannot treat with sex effectively, and certainly can't embrace the idea of a procreative, powerful sex-magic. But sex, in fact, is something that overshadows Emma's entire life. That something terrible happened to Emma, sexually, early in her life seems beyond dispute. That she saw herself as fallen, equally so.
That she felt herself fallen, degraded, by 1854 or so, she tells us herself. What happened? We will never know -- the hints in The Wildfire Club are as close as we will ever get to knowledge.
In the hands of men with the views, needs and predilections of the sort we know permeated the Cannibal Club, is it plausible than a young girl from Lambeth, who could play a mean piano, had no pedigree, no father (and possibly a mercenary mother known to pimp out her daughter to artists), and who was a fantastic mesmeric subject, would find herself -- say it -- raped after a clairvoyante session by a group of men?
It certainly is.
And that she kept silent while these men were alive, afraid --as she says in the Autobiography in reference to one of them (Dickens, I'd bet money on it, but that supposition is for another night, another post) -- of their wealth and power -- does that make sense?
Does to me.
And that she felt compelled, throughout her life, to drop hints about these events, her connections to the powerful, the darkness of the psychic wound she carried with her, to confess by inches, and opaquely -- does that make sense?
It will to any one who has ever been, truly, a victim.
Labels: Emma Harding, Emma Hardinge, Emma Hardinge Britten, Emma Hardinge-Britten