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Do the Dead Return?
A Startling Story from Life
Crown Publishing Company
San Francisco
1900
[Illustration: DR. LOUIS SCHLESINGER.]
DO THE DEAD RETURN?
A TRUE STORY
OF STARTLING SEANCES
IN SAN FRANCISCO
_NOTICE_
_This work is copyrighted. Editors are warned
not to make unlawful abridgments._
CROWN PUBLISHING COMPANY
SAN FRANCISCO
1900
COPYRIGHT, 1900
BY CROWN PUBLISHING CO.
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
PAGE
INTRODUCTION 5
THE AUTHOR'S STORY 7
THE "EXAMINER" SEANCE 14
SOME STARTLING DAYLIGHT SEANCES 19
CHARACTER OF THE NARRATORS 55
INTRODUCTION.
Before this little volume is read a few words of explanation should be
carefully weighed, for otherwise the reader might go away with many false
impressions.
The author desires to say that every word here printed is absolutely and
literally true. Nothing has been added or suppressed, but the entire truth
has been expressed, usually in the exact language of the distinguished
gentlemen whose narratives make the bulk of the book. In most instances
the witnesses summoned wrote their accounts with their own hands, and the
original manuscripts are still preserved.
Though many years have passed since the events recorded herein
transpired, all who witnessed the phenomena are still alive, and all are
well-known and reputable citizens of San Francisco. It was only a few days
ago that the author met Captain W. S. Barnes, who was District Attorney of
the City and County of San Francisco in 1893 (the date of the occurrences
with which the book deals), and he said: "What I saw in the presence of
the medium has puzzled me all these years. I can truthfully say that the
things that took place at Mayor Ellert's office are the most wonderful
events that I have ever come upon. They are absolutely beyond my
understanding."
The circumstances with which the narrative deals are an important
contribution to the history of psychic research, and they are presented
for what they are worth while the witnesses and actors in the story are
alive.
THE AUTHOR.
_San Francisco, September, 1900._
CHAPTER I.
THE AUTHOR'S STORY.
In the autumn of 1891, the author of this narrative was business manager
of the Modesto (California) _Daily News_. One afternoon while he was
engaged in an important consultation with the late Senator J. D. Spencer,
one of the owners of the _News_, there was a knock at the door of the
editorial rooms. In a twinkling an old gentleman entered; he was a
venerable-looking, long-bearded man, with Hebraic features.
Before Senator Spencer and I could say, "Good day, sir!" the old man said
something like this: "Gentlemen, I am Dr. Louis Schlesinger, the famous
Spiritualist medium. It is well known that I can talk with the good
angels, and I desire to have a series of seances here in Modesto."
"Our advertising columns are open," I said, "and we shall be pleased to
announce your meetings at the regular rates."
"I have no money to spare," he replied; "but I think you will say
something about me when I show you that man lives after death."
The Senator whispered to me (on discovering that the old gentleman was
quite deaf), "I guess he's escaped from the Stockton Lunatic Asylum."
Stockton was but twenty miles away, and I assented, but said, "Suppose we
sound him before we send for an officer."
So we agreed to give Dr. Schlesinger an opportunity to convince us that he
was a man of rare endowments, as he pretended to be.
Coming to the point, it was arranged that the Senator should retire to
the press-room while I remained with the aged suspect.
"Take eight or ten slips of paper," said Dr. Schlesinger, "and write one
name on each--some of living, some of dead persons; and don't tell me or
anybody on earth what names you have written on the slips. Roll them into
little pellets--and come back here with your mind at rest, for I am not
insane, as you think."
We were somewhat surprised, for both were certain that the old gentleman
could not have heard Senator Spencer's whispered doubt concerning our
visitor's sanity.
In a few minutes Senator Spencer returned, bearing a number of paper
pellets which he held in his clenched right hand.
Doors were closed and a table was rolled to the center of the room. Dr.
Schlesinger closed his eyes and appeared to fall into a light slumber. At
once there were many distinct raps on the table, as if some one had
thumped upon it with a finger. This was rather singular, as we could see
that our visitor's hands in no manner touched the table.
Suddenly the old man opened his eyes and said: "Gentlemen, are you
satisfied that I do not know any of the names on those papers?"
As Senator Spencer was as truthful and honorable a man as ever lived, one
whose word was better than most men's bonds, I replied: "I am sure you
have not seen the names and that you do not know one of them."
"And some of the names are not known to anybody in California," added the
Senator.
"Then I'll have to show you that I can talk with the spirits of the
departed," said Dr. Schlesinger.
Without further delay he said: "I see the spirit of your mother standing
over you. She calls you Dillard, which is your middle name, and she says
she died in Kansas City, and was buried in the old cemetery at Westport.
Am I right?"
Senator Spencer turned pale and said: "That is absolutely correct. Which
one of the pellets bears her name?"
He then held the bits of paper between his right finger and thumb, and
when he had picked up three or four of them, the medium said, "That is the
one which contains your mother's maiden name."
I have now forgotten the maiden name of the Senator's mother, though I
think it was Dillard. The answer, however, was correct.
Next, without asking me to write anything down, the medium thus addressed
me: "I see the spirit of your mother's mother. Her name was Eliza Johnson,
and she calls you 'my son,' and says, 'Tell Anne that immortality is the
glorious truth of human life.' Anne was the name of her eldest child--your
mother."
If Senator Spencer was convinced that Dr. Schlesinger had told him the
truth, I had the same kind of conviction in my case; for every word
uttered was correct. I have never understood how this old man came to the
results announced, nor have I ever seen any one who was able to explain
his power.
With the memory of my Modesto experiences fresh in mind, I decided, when I
came upon Dr. Schlesinger in San Francisco, in 1893, to institute a series
of daylight seances in the presence of some of the most distinguished
citizens of San Francisco. As I was then a writer of the San Francisco
_Daily Examiner_ staff I found rare opportunities for enlisting the men
desired in the experiments. I was not then, nor am I now, in any manner
affiliated with Spiritualists, nor do I set forth the facts of this
narrative for the purpose of making converts to any theory of mind or
matter.
The manuscript from which this work is printed was written at the time of
the matters recorded, on an order from the _Examiner_. Owing to the fact
that Mayor Ellert afterwards regretted that he had allowed a seance to be
held in his office, the _Examiner_ was induced to suppress the story,
which now appears in detail for the first time. It should be borne in mind
that all that follows was written at the time of the events described.