Celestial Bed

Sexologist James Graham’s Celestial Bed

Late 18th-century Georgian Britain had such fascinating trends. An age of Enlightenment, it brought forth people who were in love with science and anything that sounded “science-y”, even when the actual science was missing. And, no surprise, interest peaked when said pseudo-science trend dealt with sex.

This brings me to one James Graham (1745-1794), a sometime famous and other times ridiculed healer who claimed that things like “earth baths,” fasting, and electrical cures could bring about good health and longevity. You see that he died at 49, which doesn’t speak loads for his methodology.

Graham’s best-known invention was his “Celestial Bed,” shown here. Like many of Graham’s other inventions, it made use of electo-magnetism — Graham had visited the American colonies and learned about electricity by travelling in Benjamin Franklin’s circles, and he thought this force could practically cure anything.

With the Celestial Bed, Graham promised any willing couple who could afford £50 fertility and sexual potency. The Celestial Bed was the focal point of Graham’s “Temple of Health,” which he had opened in 1780. He delivered a great show to visitors — music played by a hidden band, scented perfumes filled the air, and the decor made use of all the electric gimmicks Graham could muster, from golden dragons who exhaled electric fire, to small shocks that visitors hearing Graham’s lectures would receive from their chairs.

But the Celestial Bed outdid everything else. Held by pillars of colored glass, the bed could be moved to different angles. Perfumed with a mattress stuffed with lavender and rose petals (as well as horsehair from English stallions), the bed’s headboard held an electric charge which was supposed to “give the necessary degree of strength and exertion to the nerves” of the lovers who used it. All copulation activities were accompanied by live music. Additionally, the domed canopy of the Celestial Bed had mirrors — “so disposed as to reflect the various attractive charms of the happy recumbent couple,” as James Graham put it.

Graham eventually overspent and became bankrupt, but not before many illustrious patrons had utilized his invention.

Sources: JSTOR Daily, “The prince of quacks (and how he captivated London), Amelia Soth, May 30, 2019. _The Lancet_ “Quacks and hacks: Georgian medicine and the power of advertising,” Feb 1, 2014, Adrian Teal. Geri Walton, “Dr James Graham: sexologist and his Temple of Health,” Feb 8, 2021.