Of course I shall not pretend to consider it any matter for
wonder, that the extraordinary case of M. Valdemar has excited
discussion. It would have been a miracle had it not—especially
under the circumstances. Through the desire of all parties
concerned, to keep the affair from the public, at least for the
present, or until we had farther opportunities for
investigation—through our endeavors to effect this—a garbled or
exaggerated account made its way into society, and became the
source of many unpleasant misrepresentations; and, very
naturally, of a great deal of disbelief.
It is now rendered necessary that I give the facts—as far as I
comprehend them myself. They are, succinctly, these:
My attention, for the last three years, had been repeatedly drawn
to the subject of Mesmerism; and, about nine months ago it
occurred to me, quite suddenly, that in the series of experiments
made hitherto, there had been a very remarkable and most
unaccountable omission:—no person had as yet been mesmerized in
articulo mortis. It remained to be seen, first, whether, in such
condition, there existed in the patient any susceptibility to the
magnetic influence; secondly, whether, if any existed, it was
impaired or increased by the condition; thirdly, to what extent,
or for how long a period, the encroachments of Death might be
arrested by the process. There were other points to be
ascertained, but these most excited my curiosity—the last in
especial, from the immensely important character of its
consequences.
In looking around me for some subject by whose means I might test
these particulars, I was brought to think of my friend, M. Ernest
Valdemar, the well-known compiler of the “Bibliotheca Forensica,”
and author (under the nom de plume of Issachar Marx) of the
Polish versions of “Wallenstein” and “Gargantua.” M. Valdemar,
who has resided principally at Harlem, N.Y., since the year 1839,
is (or was) particularly noticeable for the extreme spareness of
his person—his lower limbs much resembling those of John
Randolph; and, also, for the whiteness of his whiskers, in
violent contrast to the blackness of his hair—the latter, in
consequence, being very generally mistaken for a wig. His
temperament was markedly nervous, and rendered him a good subject
for mesmeric experiment. On two or three occasions I had put him
to sleep with little difficulty, but was disappointed in other
results which his peculiar constitution had naturally led me to
anticipate. His will was at no period positively, or thoroughly,
under my control, and in regard to clairvoyance, I could
accomplish with him nothing to be relied upon. I always
attributed my failure at these points to the disordered state of
his health. For some months previous to my becoming acquainted
with him, his physicians had declared him in a confirmed
phthisis. It was his custom, indeed, to speak calmly of his
approaching dissolution, as of a matter neither to be avoided nor
regretted.
When the ideas to which I have alluded first occurred to me, it
was of course very natural that I should think of M. Valdemar. I
knew the steady philosophy of the man too well to apprehend any
scruples from him; and he had no relatives in America who would
be likely to interfere. I spoke to him frankly upon the subject;
and, to my surprise, his interest seemed vividly excited. I say
to my surprise, for, although he had always yielded his person
freely to my experiments, he had never before given me any tokens
of sympathy with what I did. His disease was of that character
which would admit of exact calculation in respect to the epoch of
its termination in death; and it was finally arranged between us
that he would send for me about twenty-four hours before the
period announced by his physicians as that of his decease.
It is now rather more than seven months since I received, from M.
Valdemar himself, the subjoined note: