On the surface, Enchanted Ground presents a vivid history of séances, spiritualism and religious innovation in the second half of the 19th Century, all centered on the Jonathan Koons farm in Athens County, Ohio. Slightly buried in the text, but even more fascinating, is the eternal question about such séances and visits by spiritual beings: how much of it is genuine, and how much is chicanery?
Hatfield presents the debate from the point of view of those who attended such sessions. When a spirit’s voice spoke through a trumpet in a dark room, or a variety of musical instruments played, or a message on a piece of paper, with the ink still wet, fluttered into the hands of someone in the audience—who had made this happen? A thousand-year-old spirit? The medium, or other members of his or her family? In some period accounts, ghostly arms tap people on the hand or shoulder, or tiny lights flash near the ceiling, even while the medium is tied to a chair. Koons and other spiritualists were almost all deeply religious, and while their offerings aren’t as dramatic as the parting of the Red Sea, many seem quite devotional.
What does the author believe? Her Afterword is wonderfully balanced, and though it’s something of a spoiler, let me quote from the final pages. After agreeing with an 1850's spiritualist that the Koonses were a mixture of gold and dross, Hatfield writes, “Even if one concludes that many of the séance manifestations were akin to magic tricks, the role of telepathy and remote viewing in the various Koons phenomena cannot be ruled out.”
Along the way, no matter what we believe, we’re given a fascinating portrait of a widespread religious movement. There were thousands of spiritualist mediums in the U.S. in the 1850s, and hundreds of them, from east, west and even out of the country, came to the fabled Spirit Room of Jonathan Koons. He charged nothing to attend his sessions, and often provided room and board to his visitors. He was a self-educated farmer and family man, honored by some, doubted by others, and written about by many. Somehow, though I live only three miles from the Koons farm below Mt. Nebo, I knew almost nothing of this story—and how glad I am that I found this remarkable book.