TROUBLED SPIRITS.
A VERY curious circumstance, illustrative of the power of will, was
lately narrated to me by a Greek gentleman, to whose uncle it occurred.
His uncle, Mr. M——, was some years ago travelling in Magnesia with a
friend, when they arrived one evening at a caravanserai, where they
found themselves unprovided with anything to eat. It was therefore
agreed that one should go forth and endeavor to procure food; and the
friend offering to undertake the office, Mr. M—— stretched himself on
the floor to repose. Some time had elapsed, and his friend had not yet
returned, when his attention was attracted by a whispering in the room.
He looked up, but saw nobody, though still the whispering continued,
seeming to go round by the wall. At length it approached him; but though
he felt a burning sensation on his cheek, and heard the whispering
distinctly, he could not catch the words. Presently he heard the
footsteps of his friend, and thought he was returning; but though they
appeared to come quite close to him, and it was perfectly light, he
still saw nobody. Then he felt a strange sensation—an irresistible
impulse to rise: he felt himself _drawn up_, across the room, out of the
door, down the stairs—he must go, he could not help it—to the gate of
the caravanserai, a little farther; and there he found the dead body of
his friend, who had been suddenly assailed and cut down by robbers,
unhappily too plenty in the neighborhood at that period.
We here see the desire of the spirit to communicate his fate to the
survivor; the imperfection of the rapport, or the receptivity, which
prevented a more direct intercourse; and the exertion of a magnetic
influence, which Mr. M—— could not resist, precisely similar to that
of a living magnetizer over his patient.
There is a story extant in various English collections, the
circumstances of which are said to have occurred about the middle of the
last century, and which I shall here mention, on account of its
similarity to the one that follows it.
Dr. Bretton, who was, late in life, appointed rector of Ludgate, lived
previously in Herefordshire, where he married the daughter of Dr.
Santer, a woman of great piety and virtue. This lady died; and one day,
as a former servant of hers—to whom she had been attached, and who had
since married—was nursing her child in her own cottage, the door
opened, and a lady entered so exactly resembling the late Mrs. Bretton
in dress and appearance, that she exclaimed: “If my mistress were not
dead, I should think you were she!” Whereupon the apparition told her
that she was, and requested her to go with her, as she had business of
importance to communicate. Alice objected, being very much frightened,
and entreated her to address herself rather to Dr. Bretton; but Mrs. B.
answered that _she had endeavored to do so, and had been several times
in his room for that purpose, but he was still asleep, and she had no
power to do more toward awakening him than once uncover his feet_. Alice
then pleaded that she had nobody to leave with her child; but Mrs. B.
promising that the child should sleep till her return, she at length
obeyed the summons; and having accompanied the apparition into a large
field, the latter bade her observe how much she measured off with her
feet, and, having taken a considerable compass, she bade her go and tell
her brother that all that portion had been wrongfully taken from the
poor by their father, and that he must restore it to them, adding that
she was the more concerned about it, since her name had been used in the
transaction. Alice then asking how she should satisfy the gentleman of
the truth of her mission, Mrs. B. mentioned to her some circumstance
known only to herself and this brother; she then entered into much
discourse with the woman, and gave her a great deal of good advice,
remaining till, hearing the sound of horse-bells, she said: “Alice, I
must be seen by none but yourself,” and then disappeared. Whereupon
Alice proceeded to Dr. Bretton, who admitted that he had actually heard
some one walking about his room, in a way he could not account for. On
mentioning the thing to the brother, he laughed heartily, till Alice
communicated the secret which constituted her credentials, upon which he
changed his tone, and declared himself ready to make the required
restitution.
Dr. Bretton seems to have made no secret of this story, but to have
related it to various persons; and I think it is somewhat in its favor,
that it exhibits a remarkable instance of the various degrees of
receptivity of different individuals, where there was no suspicion of
the cause, nor any attempt made to explain why Mrs. Bretton could not
communicate her wishes to her husband as easily as to Alice. The
promising that the child should sleep, was promising no more than many a
magnetiser could fulfil. There are several curious stories extant, of
lame and suffering persons suddenly recovering, who attributed their
restoration to the visit of an apparition which had stroked their limbs,
&c.; and these are the more curious from the fact that they occurred
before Mesmer’s time, when people in general knew nothing of vital
magnetism. Dr. Binns quotes the case of a person named Jacob Olaffson, a
resident in some small island subject to Denmark, who, after lying very
ill for a fortnight, was found quite well, which he accounted for by
saying that a person in shining clothes had come to him in the night and
stroked him with his hand, whereupon he was presently healed. But the
stroking is not always necessary, since we know that the eye and the
will can produce the same effect.
The other case to which I alluded, as similar to that of Mrs. Bretton,
occurred in Germany, and is related by Dr. Kerner.
The late Mr. L—— St. ——, he says, quitted this world with an
excellent reputation, being at the time superintendent of an institution
for the relief of the poor in B——. His son inherited his property,
and, in acknowledgment of the faithful services of his father’s old
housekeeper, he took her into his family and established her in a
country-house, a few miles from B——, which formed part of his
inheritance. She had been settled there but a short time, when she was
awakened in the night, she knew not how, and saw a tall, haggard-looking
man in her room, who was rendered visible to her by a light that seemed
to issue from himself. She drew the bed-clothes over her head; but, as
this apparition appeared to her repeatedly, she became so much alarmed
that she mentioned it to her master, begging permission to resign her
situation. He however laughed at her—told her it must be all
imagination—and promised to sleep in the adjoining apartment, in order
that she might call him whenever this terror seized her. He did so; but,
when the spectre returned, she was so much oppressed with horror that
she found it impossible to raise her voice. Her master then advised her
to inquire the motive of its visits. This she did: whereupon, it
beckoned her to follow, which, after some struggles, she summoned
resolution to do. It then led the way down some steps to a passage,
where it pointed out to her a concealed closet, which it signified to
her, by signs, she should open. She represented that she had no key:
whereupon, it described to her, in sufficiently articulate words, where
she would find one. She procured the key, and, on opening the closet,
found a small parcel, which the spirit desired her to remit to the
governor of the institution for the poor, at B——, with the injunction
that the contents should be applied to the benefit of the inmates,—this
restitution being the only means whereby he could obtain rest and peace
in the other world. Having mentioned these circumstances to her master,
who bade her do what she had been desired, she took the parcel to the
governor and delivered it, without communicating by what means it had
come into her hands. Her name was entered in their books and she was
dismissed; but, after she was gone, they discovered to their surprise
that the packet contained an order for thirty thousand florins, of which
the late Mr. St. —— had defrauded the institution and converted to his
own use.
Mr. St. ——, jr., was now called upon to pay the money, which he
refusing to do, the affair was at length referred to the authorities;
and the housekeeper being arrested, he and she were confronted in the
court, where she detailed the circumstances by which the parcel had come
into her possession. Mr. St. —— denied the possibility of the thing,
declaring the whole must be, for some purpose or other, an invention of
her own. Suddenly, while making this defence, he felt a blow upon his
shoulder, which caused him to start and look round, and at the same
moment the housekeeper exclaimed: “See! there he stands, now—there is
the ghost!” None perceived the figure excepting the woman herself and
Mr. St. ——; but everybody present heard the following words: “My son,
repair the injustice I have committed, that I may be at peace!” The
money was paid; and Mr. St. —— was so much affected by this painful
event, that he was seized with a severe illness, from which he with
difficulty recovered.
Dr. Kerner says that these circumstances occurred in the year 1816, and
created a considerable sensation at the time, though, at the earnest
request of the family of Mr. St. ——, there was an attempt made to hush
them up; adding, that in the month of October, 1819, he was himself
assured by a very respectable citizen of B——, that it was universally
known in the town that the ghost of the late superintendent had appeared
to the housekeeper, and pointed out to her where she would find the
packet; that she had consulted the minister of her parish, who bade her
deliver it as directed; that she had been subsequently arrested, and the
affair brought before the authorities, where, while making his defence,
Mr. St. —— had received a blow from an invisible hand; and that Mr.
St. —— was so much affected by these circumstances, which got abroad
in spite of the efforts to suppress them, that he did not long survive
the event.
Grose, the antiquary, makes himself very merry with the observation that
ghosts do not go about their business like other people; and that in
cases of murder, instead of going to the nearest justice of peace, or to
the nearest relation of the deceased, a ghost addresses itself to
somebody who had nothing to do with the matter, or hovers about the
grave where its body is deposited. “The same circuitous mode is
pursued,” he says, “with respect to redressing injured orphans or
widows; where it seems as if the shortest and most certain way would be
to go and haunt the person guilty of the injustice, till he were
terrified into restitution.” We find the same sort of strictures made on
the story of the ghost of Sir George Villiers, which—instead of going
directly to his son, the duke of Buckingham, to warn him of his
danger—addressed himself to an inferior person; while the warning was,
after all, inefficacious, as the duke would not take counsel;—but
surely such strictures are as absurd as the conduct of the ghost: at
least I think there can be nothing more absurd than pretending to
prescribe laws to nature, and judging of what we know so little about.
The proceedings of the ghost in the following case will doubtless be
equally displeasing to the critics. The account is extracted verbatim
from a work published by the Bannatyne Club, and is entitled, “Authentic
Account of the Appearance of a Ghost in Queen Ann’s County, Maryland,
United States of North America, proved in the following remarkable
trial, from attested notes taken in court at the time by one of the
counsel.”
It appears that Thomas Harris had made some alteration in the disposal
of his property, immediately previous to his death; and that the family
disputed the will and raised up difficulties likely to be injurious to
his children.
“William Brigs said, that he was forty-three years of age; that Thomas
Harris died in September, in the year 1790. In the March following he
was riding near the place where Thomas Harris was buried, on a horse
formerly belonging to Thomas Harris. After crossing a small branch, his
horse began to walk on very fast. It was between the hours of eight and
nine o’clock in the morning. He was alone: it was a clear day. He
entered a lane adjoining to the field where Thomas Harris was buried.
His horse suddenly wheeled in a panel of the fence, looked over the
fence into the field where Thomas Harris was buried, and neighed very
loud. Witness then saw Thomas Harris coming toward him, in the same
apparel he had last seen him in in his lifetime; he had on a sky-blue
coat. Just before he came to the fence, he varied to the right and
vanished; his horse immediately took the road. Thomas Harris came within
two panels of the fence to him; he did not see his features, nor speak
to him. He was acquainted with Thomas Harris when a boy, and there had
always been a great intimacy between them. He thinks the horse knew
Thomas Harris, because of his neighing, pricking up his ears, and
looking over the fence.
“About the first of June following, he was ploughing in his own field,
about three miles from where Thomas Harris was buried. About dusk Thomas
Harris came alongside of him, and walked with him about two hundred
yards. He was dressed as when first seen. He made a halt about two steps
from him. J. Bailey who was ploughing along with him, came driving up,
and he lost sight of the ghost. He was much alarmed: not a word was
spoken. The young man Bailey did not see him; he did not tell Bailey of
it. There was no motion of any particular part: he vanished. It preyed
upon his mind so as to affect his health. He was with Thomas Harris when
he died, but had no particular conversation with him. Some time after,
he was lying in bed, about eleven and twelve o’clock at night, when he
heard Thomas Harris groan; it was like the groan he gave a few minutes
before he expired: Mrs. Brigs, his wife, heard the groan. She got up and
searched the house: he did not, because he knew the groan to be from
Thomas Harris. Some time after, when in bed, and a great fire-light in
the room, he saw a shadow on the wall, and at the same time he felt a
great weight upon him. Some time after, when in bed and asleep, he felt
a stroke between his eyes, which blackened them both: his wife was in
bed with him, and two young men were in the room. The blow awaked him,
and all in the room were asleep; is certain no one in the room struck
him: the blow swelled his nose. About the middle of August he was alone,
coming from Hickey Collins’s, after dark, about one hour in the night,
when Thomas Harris appeared, dressed as he had seen him when going down
to the meeting-house branch, three miles and a half from the graveyard
of Thomas Harris. It was starlight. He extended his arms over his
shoulders. Does not know how long he remained in this situation. He was
much alarmed. Thomas Harris disappeared. Nothing was said. He felt no
weight on his shoulders. He went back to Collins’s, and got a young man
to go with him. After he got home he mentioned it to the young man. He
had, before this, told James Harris he had seen his brother’s ghost.
“In October, about twilight in the morning, he saw Thomas Harris about
one hundred yards from the house of the witness; his head was leaned to
one side; same apparel as before; his face was toward him; he walked
fast and disappeared: there was nothing between them to obstruct the
view; he was about fifty yards from him, and alone; he had no conception
why Thomas Harris appeared to him. On the same day, about eight o’clock
in the morning, he was handing up blades to John Bailey, who was
stacking them; he saw Thomas Harris come along the garden fence, dressed
as before; he vanished, and always to the east; was within fifteen feet
of him; Bailey did not see him. An hour and a half afterward, in the
same place, he again appeared, coming as before; came up to the fence;
leaned on it within ten feet of the witness, who called to Bailey to
look there (pointing toward Thomas Harris). Bailey asked what was there.
Don’t you see Harris? Does not recollect what Bailey said. Witness
advanced toward Harris. One or the other spoke as witness got over the
fence on the same panel that Thomas Harris was leaning on. They walked
off together about five hundred yards; a conversation took place as they
walked; he has not the conversation on his memory. He could not
understand Thomas Harris, his voice was so low. He asked Thomas Harris a
question, and he forbid him. Witness then asked, ‘Why not go to your
brother, instead of me?’ Thomas Harris said, ‘Ask me no questions.’
Witness told him his will was doubted. Thomas Harris told him to ask his
brother if he did not remember the conversation which passed between
them on the east side of the wheat-stacks, the day he was taken with his
death-sickness; that he then declared that he wished all his property
kept together by James Harris, until his children arrived at age, then
the whole should be sold and divided among his children; and, should it
be immediately sold, as expressed in his will, that the property would
be most wanting to his children while minors, therefore he had changed
his will, and said that witness should see him again. He then told
witness to turn, and disappeared. He did not speak to him with the same
voice as in his lifetime. He was not daunted while with Thomas Harris,
but much afterward. Witness then went to James Harris and told him that
he had seen his brother three times that day. Related the conversation
he had with him. Asked James Harris if he remembered the conversation
between him and his brother, at the wheat-stack; he said he did; then
told him what had passed. Said he would fulfil his brother’s will. He
was satisfied that witness had seen his brother, for that no other
person knew the conversation. On the same evening, returning home about
an hour before sunset, Thomas Harris appeared to him, and came alongside
of him. Witness told him that his brother said he would fulfil his will.
No more conversation on this subject. He disappeared. He had further
conversation with Thomas Harris, but not on this subject. He was always
dressed in the same manner. He had never related to any person the last
conversation, and never would.
“Bailey, who was sworn in the cause, declared that as he and Brigs were
stacking blades, as related by Brigs, he called to witness and said,
‘Look there! Do you not see Thomas Harris?’ Witness said, ‘No.’ Brigs
got over the fence, and walked some distance—appeared by his action to
be in deep conversation with some person. Witness saw no one.
“The counsel was extremely anxious to hear from Mr. Brigs the whole of
the conversation of the ghost, and on his cross-examination took every
means, without effect, to obtain it. They represented to him, as a
religious man, he was bound to disclose the whole truth. He appeared
agitated when applied to, declaring nothing short of life should make
him reveal the whole conversation, and, claiming the protection of the
court, that he had declared all he knew relative to the case.
“The court overruled the question of the counsel. Hon. James Tilgman,
judge.
“His excellency Robert Wright, late governor of Maryland, and the Hon.
Joseph H. Nicholson, afterward judge of one of the courts in Maryland,
were the counsel for the plaintiff.
“John Scott and Richard T. Earl, Esqs., were counsel for the defendant.”
Here, as in the case of Col. M——, mentioned in a former chapter, and
some others I have met with, we find disclosures made that were held
sacred.
Dr. Kerner relates the following singular story, which he declares
himself to have received from the most satisfactory authority. Agnes
B——, being at the time eighteen years of age, was living as servant in
a small inn at Undenheim, her native place. The host and hostess were
quiet old people, who generally went to bed about eight o’clock, while
she and the boy, the only other servant, were expected to sit up till
ten, when they had to shut up the house and retire to bed also. One
evening, as the host was sitting on a bench before the door, there came
a beggar, requesting a night’s lodging. The host, however, refused, and
bade him seek what he wanted in the village; whereon the man went away.
At the usual hour the old people went to bed; and the two servants,
having closed the shutters, and indulged in a little gossip with the
watchman, were about to follow their example, when the beggar came round
the corner of the neighboring street, and earnestly entreated them to
give him a lodging for the night, since he could find nobody that would
take him in. At first the young people refused, saying they dared not,
without their master’s leave; but at length the entreaties of the man
prevailed, and they consented to let him sleep in the barn, on condition
that, when they called him in the morning, he would immediately depart.
At three o’clock they rose, and when the boy entered the barn, to his
dismay, he found that the old man had expired in the night. They were
now much perplexed with the apprehension of their master’s displeasure;
so, after some consultation, they agreed that the lad should convey the
body out of the barn, and lay it in a dry ditch that was near at hand,
where it would be found by the laborers, and excite no question, as they
would naturally conclude he had laid himself down there to die.
This was done, the man was discovered and buried, and they thought
themselves well rid of the whole affair; but, on the following night,
the girl was awakened by the beggar, whom she saw standing at her
bedside. He looked at her, and then quitted the room by the door. “Glad
was I,” she says, “when the day broke; but I was scarcely out of my room
when the boy came to me, trembling and pale, and, before I could say a
word to him of what I had seen, he told me that the beggar had been to
his room in the night, had looked at him, and then gone away. He said he
was dressed as when we had seen him alive, only he looked blacker, which
I also had observed.”
Still afraid of incurring blame, they told nobody, although the
apparition returned to them every night; and although they found
removing to the other bed-chambers did not relieve them from his visits.
But the effects of this persecution became so visible on both, that much
curiosity was awakened in the village with respect to the cause of the
alteration observed in them; and at length the boy’s mother went to the
minister, requesting him to interrogate her son, and endeavor to
discover what was preying on his mind. To him the boy disclosed their
secret; and this minister, who was a protestant, having listened with
attention to the story, advised him, when next he went to Mayence, to
market, to call on Father Joseph, of the Franciscan convent, and relate
the circumstance to him. This advice was followed; and Father Joseph,
assuring the lad that the ghost could do him no harm, recommended him to
ask him, in the name of God, what he desired. The boy did so; whereupon
the apparition answered, “Ye are children of mercy, but I am a child of
evil; in the barn, under the straw, you will find my money. Take it; it
is yours.” In the morning, the boy found the money accordingly, in an
old stocking hid under the straw; but having a natural horror of it,
they took it to their minister, who advised them to divide it into three
parts, giving one to the Franciscan convent at Mayence, another to the
reformed church in the village, and the other third to that to which
they themselves belonged, which was of the Lutheran persuasion. This
they did, and were no more troubled with the beggar. With respect to the
minister who gave them this good advice, I can only say, all honor be to
him! I wish there were many more such! The circumstance occurred in the
year 1750, and is related by the daughter of Agnes B——, who declared
that she had frequently heard it from her mother.
The circumstance of this apparition looking darker than the man had done
when alive, is significant of his condition, and confirms what I have
said above, namely, that the moral state of the disembodied soul can no
longer be concealed as it was in the flesh, but that as he is, he must
necessarily appear.
There is an old saying, that we should never lie down to rest at enmity
with any human being; and the story of the ghost of the Princess Anna of
Saxony, who appeared to Duke Christian of Saxe-Eisenburg, is strongly
confirmatory of the wisdom of this axiom.
Duke Christian was sitting one morning in his study, when he was
surprised by a knock at his door—an unusual circumstance, since the
guards as well as the people in waiting were always in the ante-room.
He, however, cried, “Come in!” when there entered, to his amazement, a
lady in an ancient costume, who, in answer to his inquiries, told him
that she was no evil spirit, and would do him no harm; but that she was
one of his ancestors, and had been the wife of Duke John Casimer, of
Saxe-Coburg. She then related that she and her husband had not been on
good terms at the period of their deaths, and that, although she had
sought a reconciliation, he had been inexorable; pursuing her with
unmitigated hatred, and injuring her by unjust suspicions; and that,
consequently, although _she_ was happy, _he_ was still wandering in cold
and darkness, between time and eternity. She had, however, long known
that one of their descendants was destined to effect this reconciliation
for them, and they were rejoiced to find the time for it had at length
arrived. She then gave the duke eight days to consider if he were
willing to perform this good office, and disappeared; whereupon he
consulted a clergyman, in whom he had great confidence, who, after
finding the ghost’s communication verified, by a reference to the annals
of the family, advised him to comply with her request.
As the duke had yet some difficulty in believing it was really a ghost
he had seen, he took care to have his door well watched; she, however,
entered at the appointed time, unseen by the attendants, and, having
received the duke’s promise, she told him she would return with her
husband on the following night; for that, though she could come by day,
he could not; that then, having heard the circumstances, the duke must
arbitrate between them, and then unite their hands, and bless them. The
door was still watched, but nevertheless the apparitions both came, the
Duke Casimer in full royal costume, but of a livid paleness; and when
the wife had told her story, he told his. Duke Christian decided for the
lady, in which judgment Duke Casimer fully acquiesced. Christian then
took the ice-cold hand of Casimer and laid it in that of his wife, which
felt of a natural heat. They then prayed and sang together, and the
apparitions disappeared, having foretold that Duke Christian would ere
long be with them. The family records showed that these people had lived
about one hundred years before Duke Christian’s time, who himself died
in 1707, two years after these visits of his ancestors. He desired to be
buried in quicklime—it is supposed from an idea that it might prevent
his ghost walking the earth.
The costume in which they appeared was precisely that they had worn when
alive, as was ascertained by a reference to their portraits.
The expression that her husband was _wandering in cold and darkness,
between time and eternity_, is here very worthy of observation, as are
the circumstances that his hand was cold, while hers was warm; and also,
the greater privilege she seemed to enjoy. The hands of the unhappy
spirits appear, I think, invariably to communicate a sensation of cold.
I have heard of three instances of persons now alive, who declare that
they hold continual intercourse with their deceased partners. One of
these is a naval officer, whom the author of a book lately published,
called “The Unseen World,” appears to be acquainted with. The second is
a professor in a college in America, a man of eminence and learning, and
full of activity and energy—yet he assured a friend of mine that he
receives constant visits from his departed wife, which afford him great
satisfaction. The third example is a lady in this country. She is united
to a second husband, has been extremely happy in both marriages, and
declares that she receives frequent visits from her first. Oberlin, the
good pastor of _Ban de la Roche_, asserted the same thing of himself.
His wife came to him frequently after her death; was seen by the rest of
his household, as well as himself; and warned him beforehand of many
events that occurred.
Mrs. Mathews relates in the memoirs of her husband, that he was one
night in bed and unable to sleep, from the excitement that continues
some time after acting, when, hearing a rustling by the side of the bed,
he looked out, and saw his first wife, who was then dead, standing by
the bedside, dressed as when alive. She smiled, and bent forward as if
to take his hand; but in his alarm he threw himself out on the floor to
avoid the contact, and was found by the landlord in a fit. On the same
night, and at the same hour, the present Mrs. Mathews, who was far away
from him, received a similar visit from her predecessor, whom she had
known when alive. She was quite awake, and in her terror seized the
bell-rope to summon assistance, which gave way, and she fell with it in
her hand to the ground.
Professor Barthe, who visited Oberlin in 1824, says, that while he spoke
of his intercourse with the spiritual world as familiarly as of the
daily visits of his parishioners, he was at the same time perfectly free
from fanaticism, and eagerly alive to all the concerns of this earthly
existence. He asserted, what I find many somnambules and deceased
persons also assert, that everything on earth is but a copy, of which
the antitype is to be found in the other.
He said to his visiter, that he might as well attempt to persuade him
that that was not a table before them, as that he did not hold
communication with the other world. “I give you credit for being honest
when you assure me that you never saw anything of the kind,” said he;
“give me the same credit when I assure you that I do.”
With respect to the faculty of ghost-seeing, he said, it depends on
several circumstances, external and internal. People who live in the
bustle and glare of the world seldom see them, while those who live in
still, solitary, thinly-inhabited places, like the mountainous districts
of various countries, do. So if I go into the forest by night, I see the
phosphoric light of a piece of rotten wood; but if I go by day I can not
see it; yet it is still there. Again, there must be a rapport. A tender
mother is awakened by the faintest cry of her infant, while the maid
slumbers on and never hears it; and if I thrust a needle among a parcel
of wood-shavings, and hold a magnet over them, the needle is stirred
while the shavings are quite unmoved. There must be a particular
aptitude; what it consists in I do not know; for of my people, many of
whom are ghost-seers, some are weak and sickly, others vigorous and
strong. Here are several pieces of flint: I can see no difference in
them; yet some have so much iron in them that they easily become
magnetic; others have little or none. So it is with the faculty of
ghost-seeing. People may laugh as they will, but the thing is a fact,
nevertheless.
The visits of his wife continued for nine years after her death, and
then ceased.
At length she sent him a message, through another deceased person, to
say that she was now elevated to a higher state, and could therefore no
longer revisit the earth.
Never was there a purer spirit, nor a more beloved human being, than
Oberlin. When first he was appointed to the curé of Ban de la Roche, and
found his people talking so familiarly of the reappearance of the dead,
he reproved them and preached against the superstition; nor was he
convinced, till after the death of his wife. She had, however,
previously received a visit from her deceased sister, the wife of
Professor Oberlin, of Strasburg, who had warned her of her approaching
death, for which she immediately set about preparing, making extra
clothing for her children, and even laying in provision for the funeral
feast. She then took leave of her husband and family, and went quietly
to bed. On the following morning she died; and Oberlin never heard of
the warning she had received, till she disclosed it to him in her
spectral visitations.
In narrating the following story, I am not permitted to give the names
of the place or parties, nor the number of the regiment, with all of
which, however, I am acquainted. The account was taken down by one of
the officers, with whose family I am also acquainted; and the
circumstance occurred within the last ten years.
“About the month of August,” says Captain E——, “my attention was
requested by the schoolmaster-sergeant, a man of considerable worth, and
highly esteemed by the whole corps, to an event which had occurred in
the garrison hospital. Having heard his recital, which, from the serious
earnestness with which he made it, challenged attention, I resolved to
investigate the matter; and, having communicated the circumstances to a
friend, we both repaired to the hospital for the purpose of inquiry.
“There were two patients to be examined—both men of good character, and
neither of them suffering from any disorder affecting the brain; the one
was under treatment for consumptive symptoms, and the other for an
ulcerated leg: and they were both in the prime of life.
“Having received a confirmation of the schoolmaster’s statement from the
hospital-sergeant, also a very respectable and trustworthy man, I sent
for the patient principally concerned, and desired him to state what he
had seen and heard, warning him, at the same time, that it was my
intention to take down his deposition, and that it behooved him to be
very careful, as possibly serious steps might be taken for the purpose
of discovering whether an imposition had been practised in the wards of
the hospital—a crime for which, he was well aware, a very severe
penalty would be inflicted. He then proceeded to relate the
circumstances, which I took down in the presence of Mr. B—— and the
hospital-sergeant, as follows:—
“‘It was last Tuesday night, somewhere between eleven and twelve, when
all of us were in bed, and all lights out except the rush-light that was
allowed for the man with the fever, when I was awoke by feeling a weight
upon my feet, and at the same moment, as I was drawing up my legs,
Private W——, who lies in the cot opposite mine, called out, “I say,
Q——, there’s somebody sitting upon your legs!”—and as I looked to the
bottom of my bed, I saw some one get up from it, and then come round and
stand over me, in the passage between my cot and the next. I felt
somewhat alarmed, for the last few nights the ward had been disturbed by
sounds as of a heavy foot walking up and down; and as nobody could be
seen, it was beginning to be supposed among us that it was haunted, and
fancying this that came up to my bed’s head might be the ghost, I called
out, “Who are you, and what do you want?”
“‘The figure then, leaning with one hand on the wall, over my head, and
stooping down, said, in my ear, “I am Mrs. M——;” and I could then
distinguish that she was dressed in a flannel gown, edged with black
riband, exactly similar to a set of grave-clothes in which I had
assisted to clothe her corpse, when her death took place a year
previously.
“‘The voice, however, was not like Mrs. M——’s, nor like anybody
else’s, yet it was very distinct, and seemed somehow to sing through my
head. I could see nothing of a face beyond a darkish color about the
head, and it appeared to me that I could see through her body against
the window-glasses.
“‘Although I felt very uncomfortable, I asked her what she wanted. She
replied, “I am Mrs. M——, and I wish you to write to him that was my
husband, and tell him.....”
“‘I am not, sir,’ said Corporal Q——, ‘at liberty to mention to anybody
what she told me, except to her husband. He is at the dépôt in Ireland,
and I have written and told him. She made me promise not to tell any one
else. After I had promised secrecy, she told me something of a matter
that convinced me I was talking to a spirit, for it related to what only
I and Mrs. M—— knew, and no one living could know anything whatever of
the matter; and if I was now speaking my last words on earth, I say
solemnly that it was Mrs. M——’s spirit that spoke to me then, and no
one else. After promising that if I complied with her request, she would
not trouble me or the ward again, she went from my bed toward the
fireplace, and with her hands she kept feeling about the wall over the
mantel-piece. After a while, she came toward me again; and while my eyes
were upon her, she somehow disappeared from my sight altogether, and I
was left alone.
“‘It was then that I felt faint-like, and a cold sweat broke out over
me; but I did not faint, and after a time I got better, and gradually I
went off to sleep.
“‘The men in the ward said, next day, that Mrs. M—— had come to speak
to me about purgatory, because she had been a Roman catholic, and we had
often had arguments on religion: but what she told me had no reference
to such subjects, but to a matter only she and I knew of.’
“After closely cross-questioning Corporal Q——, and endeavoring without
success to reason him out of his belief in the ghostly character of his
visiter, I read over to him what I had written, and then, dismissing
him, sent for the other patient.
“After cautioning him, as I had done the first, I proceeded to take down
his statement, which was made with every appearance of good faith and
sincerity:—
“‘I was lying awake,’ said he, ‘last Tuesday night, when I saw some one
sitting on Corporal Q——’s bed. There was so little light in the ward,
that I could not make out who it was, and the figure looked so strange
that I got alarmed, and felt quite sick. I called out to Corporal Q——
that there was somebody sitting upon his bed, and then the figure got
up; and as I did not know but it might be coming to me, I got so much
alarmed, that being but weakly’ (this was the consumptive man), ‘I fell
back, and I believe I fainted away. When I got round again, I saw the
figure standing and apparently talking to the corporal, placing one hand
against the wall and stooping down. I could not, however, hear any
voice; and being still much alarmed, I put my head under the clothes for
a considerable time. When I looked up again I could only see Corporal
Q——, sitting up in bed alone, and he said he had seen a ghost; and I
told him I had also seen it. After a time he got up and gave me a drink
of water, for I was very faint. Some of the other patients being
disturbed by our talking, they bade us be quiet, and after some time I
got to sleep. The ward has not been disturbed since.’
“The man was then cross-questioned; but his testimony remaining quite
unshaken, he was dismissed, and the hospital-sergeant was interrogated
with regard to the possibility of a trick having been practised. He
asserted, however, that this was impossible; and, certainly, from my own
knowledge of the hospital regulations, and the habits of the patients, I
should say that a practical joke of this nature was too serious a thing
to have been attempted by anybody, especially as there were patients in
the ward very ill at the time, and one very near his end. The punishment
would have been extremely severe, and discovery almost certain, since
everybody would have been adverse to the delinquent.
“The investigation that ensued was a very brief one, it being found that
there was nothing more to be elicited; and the affair terminated with
the supposition that the two men had been dreaming. Nevertheless, six
months afterward, on being interrogated, their evidence and their
conviction were as clear as at first, and they declared themselves ready
at any time to repeat their statement upon oath.”
Supposing this case to be as the men believed it, there are several
things worthy of observation. In the first place, the ghost is guilty of
that inconsistency so offensive to Francis Grose and many others.
Instead of telling her secret to her husband, she commissions the
corporal to tell it him, and it is not till a year after her departure
from this life that she does even that; and she is heard in the ward two
or three nights before she is visible. We are therefore constrained to
suppose that, like Mrs. Bretton, she could not communicate with her
husband, and that, till that Tuesday night, the necessary conditions for
attaining her object, as regarded the corporal, were wanting. It is also
remarkable that, although the latter heard her speak distinctly, and
spoke to her, the other man heard no voice, which renders it probable
that she had at length been able to produce that impression upon him
which a magnetizer does on his somnambule, enabling each to understand
the other by a transference of thought, which was undistinguishable to
the corporal from speech, as it is frequently to the somnambule. The
imitating the actions of life by leaning against the wall and feeling
about the mantel-piece, are very unlike what a person would have done
who was endeavoring to impose on the man; and equally unlike what they
would have reported, had the thing been an invention of their own.
Among the established jests on the subject of ghosts, their sudden
vanishing is a very fruitful one; but, I think, if we examine this
question, we shall find that there is nothing comical in the matter
except the ignorance or want of reflection of the jesters.
In the first place, as I have before observed, a spirit must be where
its thoughts and affections are, for they are itself; our spirits are
where our thoughts and affections are, although our solid bodies remain
stationary: and no one will suppose that walls or doors, or material
obstacles of any kind, could exclude a spirit any more than they can
exclude our thoughts.
But, then, there is the visible body of the spirit—what is that, and
how does it retain its shape?—for we know that there is a law
(discovered by Dalton) that two masses of gaseous matter can not remain
in contact, but they will immediately proceed to diffuse themselves into
one another; and accordingly, it may be advanced that a gaseous
corporeity in the atmosphere is an impossibility, because it could not
retain its form, but would inevitably be dissolved away, and blend with
the surrounding air. But precisely the same objection might be made by a
chemist to the possibility of our fleshly bodies retaining their
integrity and compactness: for the human body, taken as a whole, is
known to be an impossible chemical compound, except for the vitality
which upholds it; and no sooner is life withdrawn from it, than it
crumbles into putrescence; and it is undeniable that the aeriform body
would be an impossible mechanical phenomenon, but for the vitality
which, we are entitled to suppose, may uphold it. But, just as the state
or condition of organization protects the fleshly body from the natural
reactions which would destroy it, so may an analogous condition of
organization protect a spiritual ethereal body from the destructive
influence of the mutual interdiffusion of gases.
Thus, supposing this aeriform body to be a permanent appurtenance of the
spirit, we see how it may subsist and retain its integrity; and it would
be as reasonable to hope to exclude the electric fluid by walls or doors
as to exclude by them this subtle, fluent form. If, on the contrary, the
shape be only one constructed out of the atmosphere by an act of will,
the same act of will, which is a vital force, will preserve it entire,
until, the will being withdrawn, it dissolves away. In either case, the
moment the will or thought of the spirit is elsewhere, it is gone—it
has vanished.
For those who prefer the other hypothesis—namely, that there is no
outstanding shape at all, but that the will of the spirit, acting on the
constructive imagination of the seer, enables him to conceive the form,
as the spirit itself conceives of it—there can be no difficulty in
understanding that the becoming invisible will depend merely on a
similar act of will.