MEDIUMISTIC VEIN IN OUR FAMILY.
SOME FAMILY ANTECEDENTS--OUR GREAT-GRANDMOTHER--PHANTOM PROPHETIC
FUNERALS--VISION OF A TOMBSTONE NINE YEARS IN ADVANCE, ETC.
I will here interrupt the course of this narrative with a chapter about
our family, principally in reference to that peculiar and strange
constitutional _something_, which, in us three children (myself and the
two younger ones, Margaretta and Catharine), has come out so strongly
into what is called "mediumship," and which would seem to have been the
cause why the "Spirits," whose instruments we have been, chose us for
their purpose, and imposed upon us the burden of what they called "the
duty," against which we thus so long and hard, but vainly, struggled.
My parents were both native-born Americans. My father's ancestors were
German; the name having been originally Voss, which passed through Foss
into Fox. In my mother's family, French, English, and Dutch mingled. Her
paternal grandfather, John C. Smith, was of English ancestry. He married
Elizabeth Blauvelt, of descent from Holland. Her maternal grandfather
was French, Rutan by name, and her maternal grandmother, whose maiden
name was Margaret Ackerman, was also a descendant from Holland, and
resided on Long Island with her parents until her marriage, after which
she removed to New York City, where her only child, my grandmother, was
born. She (Margaret Rutan), my mother's maternal grandmother, had, from
childhood, evinced the power of foretelling events. She frequently
followed phantom funerals, and entering the grave-yard, would stand and
look on until the last rites had been performed, after which she would
turn away sorrowing. She never felt timid until the ceremony was
ended. Then she would find herself alone, in her normal condition, and
remembering all she had seen, and knowing also what would inevitably
follow, she would be sadly depressed.
On two occasions she was prevailed upon to tell whose funeral she had
attended the previous night, which caused her such intense distress of
mind, she besought them to never again urge her to reveal that which was
made known to her during her somnambulic walks. The moment the person
ceased to breathe, she would say, "Mr. or Mrs. (whoever it might be) is
dead."
If the death had taken place in a distant part of the country it would
make no difference, so long as the burial place was there. She felt
relieved as soon as the event transpired. She always visited the
grave-yard between the hours of twelve and two o'clock at night. My
grandfather frequently walked slowly after her to accompany her home on
her return.
Another remarkable feature used to attend these nocturnal excursions of
my great-grandmother, in the somnambulic condition, when she would thus
witness the celebration of funerals of persons who were at the time
still alive and well. She would see and recognize all the persons in
attendance on the funeral, from the officiating minister down, and
afterward remember and relate their names, which used always to
correspond with the fact as it afterward came about. She would even tell
by whose horses the body was brought to the grave (in the country at
that time there were no regular hearses, and this service was performed
by some friend or neighbor). When the crowded phantom funeral was over
she would awake to find herself alone in the graveyard; sometimes with
my grandfather (her son-in-law) awaiting at a little distance to
accompany her return home. But frequently she had no such watching
attendant, and I remember to have heard it said how distressing it would
be for her to awake entirely alone and make her solitary way homeward,
from what she knew to be the foreshadowed interment of some one near and
dear.
MY AUNT ELIZABETH'S VISION OF HER OWN TOMBSTONE.
My mother's sister, Mrs. Elizabeth Higgins, had much the same faculty.
She never left her bed at night to visit scenes about to transpire, but
nearly everything of importance was foreshadowed in her dreams. She
would frequently relate them on the morning following. One morning, she
gave us a relation of her dream. She said, laughingly, to her brother:
"I dreamed I had a fall, last night. You and I were riding on horseback,
when suddenly my horse stumbled and fell in front of Judge Perry's door.
I rolled down the little embankment, and Tom Foot came and helped me
up." Grandmother said, "That can't come true, for Tom is, by this time,
far away." They thought no more of it.
Some time after, her brother said to her, "Bessie, would you like to
take a ride with me this morning?" She replied that she would, and they
soon started off, each on a spirited horse, never thinking of her dream,
until the horse stumbled and she fell and rolled down the bank, exactly
in front of Judge Perry's door. _Tom_ came out and helped her up. He had
not gone away, as he had contemplated doing.
Mr. Robert Dale Owen, in his "Foot-falls on the Boundary of Another
World," has given a more detailed account of her remarkable dreams. I
will only add the last sad fulfilment of a dream which she had some
years previously to its fulfilment. She was then in her nineteenth year.
She said, "I dreamed I was in a new country, walking alone, when
suddenly I came to a small cemetery, and, walking up to one of the most
prominent head-stones, read the inscription, which was this:
IN MEMORY
OF
ELIZABETH SMITH,
Wife of H----,
Who departed this life
In the year of our Lord 18--,
Aged 27 years, 8 months and 26 days."[6]
[6] I am not entirely certain that I remember the number of
days with distinctness: it is very nearly correct.
She was deeply impressed by this dream, and could not rest. She left her
bed, and went into her mother's sleeping-room, sobbing, and related the
dream. Her father and mother both endeavored to disabuse her mind of any
belief in this unhappy dream. He tenderly folded her in his arms and
quoted from Scripture many beautiful sayings, such as: "Of that day
and hour knoweth no man: no, not even the angels in Heaven." She was
comforted and seldom referred to her dream. The gentleman to whom she
was affianced died. Her father purchased a home, and moved to Sodus,
Wayne County, N. Y., where she became acquainted with Mr. C. Higgins.
They were married, and enjoyed five years of uninterrupted happiness.
The time was drawing near when she expected to become a mother. Uncle
Charles was a devoted husband, and regretted that duty called him from
home at this time. (He was engaged in Albany on public business.) He
could not rest; he must return to his darling little wife, and spend a
few days with her, and arrange with his brother, Dr. Higgins, to remain
as a protector and physician in his house, until all danger had passed.
He came (to her) unexpected, and she was delighted to see him.
The doctor came to remain as long as it was necessary. Her husband had
already overstaid his time; and, as it was important for him to be in
Albany, he was obliged to leave. There were many anxious hearts that
feared, and silently prayed that their hopes of happiness might be
realized. (I really do think that she had been reasoned out of belief in
_that_ dream.) She rejoiced and was happy when he promised her he would
never again accept an office which would take him from home.
It was a bright, lovely morning. The team stood waiting at the gate, to
take him to Newark (ten miles), the nearest point from which he could
reach the canal packet boat, for Albany. Bessie walked with him to the
gate (about two hundred feet from the door), where he tenderly embraced
her and kissed her again and again, promising that he would refrain from
leaving home on business in the future. He alluded in glowing terms to
their prospects of happiness, in the birth of their expected child, and
warned her of the danger of yielding to superstition. He begged her not
to repeat her dreams, as they were the result of a disordered condition
of health. Then, taking her in his arms, he carried her back to the
house, saying: "My darling, I cannot part with you here at the gate;
permit me to remember you as seated in your pleasant room, surrounded by
loving friends, and happy again." He held her in a long, fond embrace,
kissing her with tears and sobs, and gently seating her in her
easy-chair, bade her farewell, and rushed to the conveyance, fearing to
look back, lest he should see her weeping at the door.
She wept some time after he was gone, but soon felt more cheerful, and
frequently repeated what he had promised--that he would never leave home
again after that season.
A week had passed, and a little voice was heard. She fondly clasped her
babe to her breast and called it "My little Charles, my darling baby!
Oh! how happy I am." They were both doing well. Letters were sent to her
husband by every mail, which were duly received by him. She wished the
child would resemble his father, who was a splendid man in every sense.
She too was perfect in form and feature.
It was the day on which she had attained her age of twenty-seven years,
eight months, and twenty-six days, _the age marked on the tombstone she
had seen in her dream of about nine years before_. All the family knew
of it, though she gave no sign of thinking of it, and seemed entirely
cheerful and happy.
The little one was two weeks old; a letter was received that morning
saying, "I shall be at home the last of this week. I shall say
farewell to Albany." Words cannot express her joy at this unexpected
announcement. She directed everything, how to dress the baby, and
arranged for them to go after her husband's mother and sister, who had
not seen the little one, as they had been absent on a visit. They were
delighted to find Bessie and the baby so well, and the little Charles
looking "so exactly like his father, except that he had his mother's
curly hair." The mother seemed perfectly happy, but there were anxious
hearts that silently prayed to God to avert the fearful calamity, which
they feared might now be hanging over them. The day was passing away.
She was well and cheerful. Her family were near her, doing all they
could to divert her thoughts from _the date_. Her minister, Rev. Mark
Johnson, and his wife called to spend an hour with the family. She was
pleased to see them, and united with them in prayer. She called Mrs.
Johnson to see how sweetly the infant nestled in her bosom. Then,
turning to the minister she said, "Mr. Johnson, we shall have the baby
christened Charles Smith Higgins as soon as his father comes home."
The last rays of the setting sun shone on the tree tops. Once more she
called attention to the child, smiling on it the while; when suddenly
she exclaimed, "Oh!" and placed one hand upon her breast, while with the
other pressing the babe closer to her bosom.
Mother caught her in her arms, her sister Catharine ran to call the
doctor; but before they could enter the room, her spirit had taken its
flight to the immortal world.
Her tombstone now records her dream, verbatim, in the old cemetery in
Sodus.
They directed letters to her husband and friends in Albany, also sent
letters to every packet-boat going east and returning. (There were no
railroads nor convenient telegraph wires at that time.) They published
the sad news in all the papers, and sent them to every place where he
would be likely to get them.
He left Albany on Thursday, expecting to reach home on Sunday. At Lyons
he left the boat, thinking he could reach home some hours sooner by
taking a private conveyance. He met an acquaintance at the hotel, who
handed him a paper containing a "special notice" of the sudden death
of Mrs. Elizabeth Higgins. He saw no more, but fell prostrated with
overwhelming grief. In vain they tried to rouse him until the reaction
came. The funeral was appointed for half-past two o'clock P.M. He had
twenty miles to ride, and it was nearly one o'clock then; he called for
a horse, and started direct for the church, hoping to reach there before
the burial. A large concourse had already assembled at the house, which
was about two miles distant from the church. All were anxiously looking
and waiting for the absent one. The weather was extremely warm, and they
would proceed slowly; so it was thought best to start. Several times
they halted on the way. Every eye and ear were strained to catch the
faintest sight or sound, but all in vain. The church was reached. The
mourners moved slowly up the aisle. There was not a single heart in
that large assembly which did not thrill with sorrowful emotion. The
congregation prayed in silence, and sobs were heard in every part of
the house. The minister stood silent for a moment, then slowly and
distinctly said--"I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord."
His voice was deep and solemn, and its clear tones penetrated every
heart. His eyes beamed with tenderness, as he recounted with touching
pathos the scenes of past happiness and this sad reverse. He offered up
petitions to the Most High for the bereaved husband and friends. After
taking final leave of those dearly loved features, so soon to be closed
forever from our mortal vision, we started for the cemetery, distant
about a quarter of a mile. Once more we halted. All hearts were
high-strung with the hope that Uncle Charles might yet arrive; a prayer
was said, the last sad offices were performed, and the friends returned,
with aching hearts, to their bereaved home. Just as the family were
entering the gateway, a tired, dusty rider came galloping at full speed.
He came from the cemetery, where he had been seen to throw himself on
the newly made grave, and call, in the bitter anguish of his soul, "My
darling, O, my darling, come back to me." (His sister's son witnessed
the scene.) It was sad to see his manly form so bowed by sorrow. He
threw his arms around her sisters and held them in a long embrace; then
calling for the child, he clasped it to his heart, crying, "My Bessie's
baby! Oh, my darling child! You are all that is left to me."
I cannot describe his grief. It can be better imagined, than expressed
in language.
PROPHETIC CLAIRVOYANCE.
Another story of my great-grandmother, which not only exists in the
family, but which I perfectly remember to have heard from her own lips,
illustrates her faculty of what I may call prophetic clairvoyance.
She had a friend and neighbor, named Urie, who had a splendid team of
horses, of which he was very fond and proud, but which she had often
urged him to get rid of, assuring him that they would cause his death if
he did not. Her habitual manifestations of this faculty were during her
somnambulic walks in the middle hours of the night; but this I am now to
relate occurred about noonday, when she had not been asleep.
She was seated at a window which looked upon the road, engaged in some
work of embroidery, when she was seen to start up, rush out to the road
and run at her utmost speed about a mile, to a spot where the grassy
side of the road sloped up to a fence. At this spot (followed by Mr.
Urie's wife and family), she ran up to the fence, and, taking off her
apron, was seen to hold something, seemingly enfolded in it, with every
indication of extreme agitation and distress. With her hands clasped
together she was seen to rock her body backward and forward in great
distress over the _something_ apparently covered by the apron. Exactly
one year from that day she _did_ see from her window Mr. Urie's team
running away wildly past the house, dragging him entangled in the lines.
At the precise spot where she had stopped before, now lay his dead body,
with the bloody face so torn and disfigured that she took off her apron
to cover it up from sight.
My mother used frequently to receive warning of an approaching death
in the family, through a particular dream (it was that of dining with
General Washington). The recurrence of that dream always brought with
it great distress to her mind, and she used to say (she was the soul of
truth and all human goodness) that this warning had never failed her.
Much more on this subject of these indications of ancestral mediumship
running in our family may be found in Mr. Owen's "Foot-falls," he having
taken particular interest in inquiring into the aspect of the subject.
BROTHER DAVID.
Besides ourselves, who have been brought so prominently before the
public, my brother David and my other sisters have often given clear
proofs of some form or degree of mediumship. David and his wife can, at
almost any time, communicate with Spirits; not only by sitting at a
table, but by together touching a chair, or any other similar object,
the movements of which will signal to them the letters of the alphabet.
UNCLE JOHN.
My mother's only brother, John, was once kicked on the head by a
favorite horse, which the blacksmith did not dare to shoe, and which his
young master once rashly attempted to handle for the purpose. Uncle John
was carried into the hotel unconscious, where he lay all night in that
condition. About twelve o'clock that night his sister, Aunt Elizabeth
(Mrs. Higgins), at home, about thirty miles distant, both heard and saw
him walk across her room, groaning in pain. As he did not answer when
she spoke to him, she supposed he had not heard her, and she went into
her grandfather's room; who, speaking first before she could do so,
said, "What's the matter with John? He has walked past my door several
times, holding his hand to his head, and looked into my room; but when I
spoke, he went away without answering me."
The next morning word came that he was lying, dangerously injured, at
the hotel. His father went immediately to him, but found him unconscious
and unable to speak. He eventually recovered, and declared that he had
been at home with the family during the night of his injury.
His grandfather, John C. Smith, my great-grandfather, English by birth,
was the one who saved me when lost in the woods. (See the curious story
related on a future page.) I think he was the very noblest and grandest
man I have ever known. He was of unusual stature and strength, of the
sweetest temper and character, as well as of superior intellect.
MR. COOK'S DEATH.
A party consisting of Mr. and Mrs. Emerson, Mr. Cook--an English
gentleman and a partner and intimate friend of Mr. Emerson--mother, her
sister Catharine, Ann Emerson and myself (we were little girls at that
time), drove to the "Sand Hill burying-ground" to visit the graves of
our loved ones. Mr. Cook and my aunt rode in his carriage, while the
rest of us rode in the family carriage. They arrived a little before we
did, and walked to Mr. E's. plot, where stooping he pulled up a flower
and, tossing it at my beautiful Aunt Catharine, said, "I wonder who
will lie here next?" After remaining a while we drove home, in Clinton
Street, Rochester, where the nurse was standing with the babe Georgie in
her arms. (George was an uncommonly lovely boy, named after Mr. Cook.)
When taking the child in his arms Mr. Cook said, "O thou angel boy! I
must not neglect to will thee thy dower." He remained with us through
the evening and bade us good-night. His house was nearly a mile away. I
retired with mother and her sister. I slept in a trundle-bed drawn from
under their large bed. Our family was then boarding there, father being
absent from home much of the time. It was my habit to study my lessons
in bed before going to sleep, in which way I was sure to remember them
in the morning; and as there was to be a school exhibition next day, it
was late before I put out the candle, when mother gave a fearful scream
which brought every one to inquire the cause. At first she declined to
say anything about it--feeling very sure it must have been Mr. Cook she
had seen; and she disliked to say anything more. She however insisted
upon having seen a man, and described him as resting upon his hands on
the bed, bending over her sister Catharine, and looking her in the face;
she recognized the man to be Mr. Cook. They tried to impress her with
the belief that it was a dream, but she knew she had not slept.
Early next morning a messenger woke up the household, and announced that
Mr. Cook had dropped dead in the mill at 6 A.M. He and Mr. Emerson were
the wealthy owners of the principal flouring mills on the Genesee River,
at Rochester.
Mr. Cook's body was buried at the spot from which he had plucked the
flower.
Mr. Cook was no doubt sleeping quietly at the time they were searching
the house to find the apparition just before the midnight hour, as he
said to his foreman on entering the mill, in reply to his morning
salutation, "I am well, and I think I slept too well, as I intended to
be here at five o'clock." He walked a moment longer and fell, to rise no
more.
STRANGE OCCURRENCES PRIOR TO GRANDFATHER'S DEATH.
My sister Maria (Mrs. Smith) from her childhood has, at certain times,
been able, by gently touching her fingers to the lightest of tables, to
make it impossible for a strong man to lift it from the spot without
danger of breaking it.
My sister, Mrs. Osterhout, was also remarkable for intuitive knowledge,
dreams, and visions. Some fifteen or sixteen years ago some singular
manifestations occurred around the lingering death-bed of her husband.
About a week before his death my sister was called off to a room in the
house, five rooms distant from the one he occupied, where some sewing
women were at work, really in preparation for his fast-nearing end. On
her return he told her he had heard all the directions she had been
giving, and repeated them to her. The following extract is from a letter
from my niece Helen, one of his children. It speaks for itself:
"A few days afterward we were all in the room, and he said, 'Do you
see?' We all looked in the same direction he was looking, and saw a
coffin being carried out of the house. I shall never forget the look he
gave us; Emma, Ben, Nannie, and myself were in the room. We all saw it.
Three days before he died the boys were in the barn. It being Sunday,
we were busy doing the morning work, when we were startled by what we
thought to be the report of a gun. A second time we heard the same
report. Father said, 'The boys have got the gun in the barn,' and wanted
them to be called into the house; but they had heard the second report,
which they thought was in the house, and came in to see what was the
matter. We were now all gathered in father's room, when a third report
sounded still louder and seemed to be in the same room with us. Mother
was very much affected, and father said, 'Don't be frightened, my
darling, it is only a warning of the near approach of my death.' There
were a great many things at that time transpiring which were very
mysterious. Lights were seen in the house and door-yard, barn, etc.,
which could not be accounted for; and sounds were heard as of sawing,
driving of nails, etc."
MY OWN CHILDREN.
All my children grew up into Spiritualism naturally. Lillie, once, while
lying awake in bed with her sister Lizzie, the gas being at half-light,
saw a lady standing in the corner of the room who then walked about it,
passed out, and then re-entered it. She wore a dress resembling her
sister's wrapper, with its peculiar large flowered pattern. The bed
being a wide one, she was not in contact with her sister, and supposed
the figure to be Lizzie, and called to her to ask what she was about,
but she perceived that it was _not_ her sister, who was asleep by her
side, and whom she waked. They turned up the light, and the figure was
no more there. Both were frightened, and kept the light burning brightly
for the rest of the night.
Lillie used often to say to me, "Mamma, put out the light. My guardian
Spirit will take care of me." She had no fear of them. Georgie, on the
contrary, was somewhat afraid, and would say, "Leave a little light,
mamma, 'cause the Spirits are rapping." Leah would come flying
down-stairs, pale and almost breathless, at the least indication of the
presence of Spirits. Still they all knew and believed in them, and loved
to sit in dark circles in our family alone and witness the different
forms of manifestations.
Lillie has an abnormal faculty which often gives entertainment to her
friends. She goes out of the room, and any member of the company may
hide any small object wherever he may please--such as a key or coin or
anything convenient. All the rest of the company are requested to fix
their thoughts on the object and its place of concealment, while careful
not to do or say anything to suggest a clue. On her entrance she takes
his hand and applies it to her forehead, still holding on to it and
keeping her eyes shut. She will then lead him to the spot where it is
concealed. She moves by starts, he accompanying her passively. She very
rarely fails to find the article concealed.
MUSICAL MEDIUMSHIP.
I might tell much of the indications of the mediumistic character which
have run through the children of the generation following our own; that
is to say, those of my brother and sisters and myself, including my
nephew's little son of five years, who plays on a child's harmonica with
astonishing accuracy and beauty, accompanying any musical performance
and following every variation with whatever rapidity, with his face
kindled with excitement and delight; the whole being spontaneous,
without ever having had any instruction. He is (I have no doubt) a
musical medium, of whom the world has seen several; the most remarkable
one being the idiot boy known as "Blind Tom." It is indeed evident
enough that this mysterious gift, or whatever it may be called, is not
destined to die out with the present generation.
The next instance of mediumship in the generation succeeding ourselves
is such as to merit a chapter to itself.