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THERE IS NO DEATH
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THERE IS NO DEATH
BY
FLORENCE MARRYATT
AUTHOR OF
love's CONPLICT," " VERONIQUE," ETC., ETC.
" There is no Death — what seems so is
transition.
This life of mortal breath
Is but a suburb of the Life Elysian
Whose portal we call Death."— Longfellow.
Ni;\V YORK
NATIONAL BOOK COMPANY
3, 4, 5 AND 6 MISSION PLACE
Copyright, 1891,
BV
United States Book Comjakv
THERE IS NO DEATH.
CHAPTER I.
FAMILY GHOSTS.
It has been strongly impressed upon me for some years
past to write an account of the wonderful experiences I
have passed through in my investigation of the science
of Spiritualism, In doing so I intend to confine myself
to recording facts. I will describe the scenes I have wit-
nessed with my own eyes, and repeat the words I have
heard with my own ears, leaving the deduction to be drawn
from them wholly to my readers. I have no ambition to
start a theory nor to promulgate a doctrine ; above all
things I have no desire to provoke an argument, I have
had more than enough of arguments, philosophical, scien-
tific, religious, and purely aggressive, to last a lifetime ;
and were I called upon for my definition of the rest
promised to the weary, I should reply — a place where
every man may hold his own opinion, and no one is per-
mitted to dispute it.
But though I am about to record a great many incidents
that are so marvellous as to be almost incredible, I do not
expect to be disbelieved, except by such as are capable of
dece])tion themselves. They — conscious of their own
infirmity — invariably believe that other people must be
telling lies. Byron wrote, " He is a fool who denies that
183101
6 THERE IS NO DEATH.
which he cannot disprove ; " and though Carlyle gives us
the comforting assurance that the population of Great Bri-
tain consists " chiefly of fools," I pin my faith upon
receiving credence from the few who are not so.
Why should I be disbelieved? When the late Lady
Brassey published the " Cruise of the Stinbeam" and Sir
Samuel and Lady Baker related their experiences in Central
Africa, and Livingstone wrote his account of the wonders
he met with whilst engaged in the investigation of the
source of the Nile, and Henry Stanley followed up the
story and added thereto, did they anticipate the public
turning up its nose at their narrations, and declaring it did
not believe a word they had written? Yet their readers
had to accept the facts they offered for credence, on their
authority alone. Very few of them had even heard of the
places described before ; scarcely one in a thousand could,
either from personal experience or acquired knowledge,
attest the truth of the description. What was there — for
the benefit of the general public — to prove that the Sun-
beam had sailed round the world, or that Sir Samuel Baker
had met with the rare beasts, birds, and flowers he wrote
of, or that Livingstone and Stanley met and spoke with
those curious, unknown tribes that never saw white men
till they set eyes on them ? Yet had any one of those
writers affirmed that in his wanderings he had encountered
a gold field of undoubted excellence, thousands of fortune-
seekers would have left their native land on his word alone,
and rushed to secure some of the glittering treasure.
Why ? Because the authors of those books were persons
well known in society, who had a reputation for veracity to
maintain, and who would have been quickly found out
had they dared to deceive. I claim the same grounds for
obtaining belief. I have a well-known name and a public
reputation, a tolerable brain, and two sharp eyes. What I
have witnessed, others, with equal assiduity and perseve-
rance, may witness for themselves. It would demand a
voyage round the world to see all that the owners of the
Stinbeam saw. It would demand time and trouble and
money to see what I have seen, and to some people, per-
haps, it would not be worth the outlay. But if I have jour-
neyed into the Debateable Land(which so few really believe
in, and most are terribly afraid of), and come forward now
lo tell what I have seen there, the world has no more right
THERE IS NO DEATH. 7
to disbelieve me than it had to disbelieve Lady Brassey.
Because the general public has not penetrated Central
Africa, is no reason that Livingstone did not do so; because
the general public has not seen (and does not care to see)
wliat I have seen, is no argument against the truth of what
I write. To those who do believe in the possibility of com-
munion with disembodied spirits, my story will be interest-
ing perhaps, on account of its dealing throughout in a
remarkable degree with the vexed question of identity and
recognition. To the materialistic portion of creation who
may credit me with not being a bigger fool than the remain-
der of the thirty-eight millions of Great Britain, it may
prove a new source of speculation and research. And for
those of my fellow-creatures who possess no curiosity, nor
imagination, nor desire to prove for themselves what they
cannot accept on the testimony of others, I never had, and
never shall have, anything in common. They are the sort
of people who ask you with a pleasing smile if Irving wrote
"The Charge of the Light Brigade," and say they like
Byron's " Sardanapalus " very well, but it is not so funny
as " Our Boys."
Now, before going to work in right earnest, I do not
think it is generally known that my father, the late Captain
Marryat, was not only a believer in ghosts, but himself a
ghost-seer. I am delighted to be able to record this fact
as an introduction to my own experiences. Perhaps the
ease with which such manifestations have come to me is a
gift which I inherit from him, anyway I am glad he shared
the belief and the power of spiritual sight with me. If there
were no other reason to make me bold to repeat what I
have witnessed, the circumstance would give me courage.
My father was not like his intimate friends, Charles Dick-
ens, Lord Lytton, and many other men of genius, highly
strung, nervous, and imaginative. I do not believe my
father had any " nerves," and I think he had very little
imagination. Almost all his works are founded on his per-
sonal experiences. His_/l?r/<? lay in a humorous descrip-
tion of what he had seen. He possessed a marvellous
power of putting his recollections into graphic and forcible
language, and the very reason that his books are almost as
popular to-day as when they were written, is because they
are true histories of their time. There is scarcely a line of
fiction in them. His body was as powerful and muscular
8 . THERE IS NO DEATH.
as his brain. His courage was indomitable — his moral
courage as well as his physical (as many people remember
to their cost to this day), and his hardness of belief on
many subjects is no secret. What I am about to relate
therefore did not happen to some excitable, nervous, sickly
sentimentalist, and I repeat that I am proud to have in-
herited his constitutional tendencies, and quite willing to
stand judgment after him.
I have heard that my father had a number of stories to
relate of supernatural (as they are usually termed) inci-
dents that had occurred to him, but I will content myself
with relating such as were proved to be (at the least) very
remarkable coincidences. In my work, " The Life and
Letters of Captain Marryat," I relate an anecdote of him
that was entered in his private " log," and found amongst
his papers. He had a younger brother, Samuel, to whom
he was very much attached, and who died unexpectedly in
England whilst my father, in command of H. M. S. Lame,
was engaged in the first Burmese war. His men broke
out with scurvy and he was ordered to take his vessel over
to Pulu Pinang for a few weeks in order to get the sailors
fresh fruit and vegetables. As my father was lying in his
berth one night, anchored off the island, with the brilliant
tropical moonlight making everything as bright as day, he
saw the door of his cabin open, and his brother Samuel
entered and walked quietly up to his side. He looked just
the same as when they had parted, and uttered in a per-
fectly distinct voice, " Fred ! I have come to tell you that
I am dead ! " When the figure entered the cabin my father
jumped up in his berth, thinking it was some one coming
to rob him, and when he saw who it was and heard it speak,
he leaped out of bed with the intention of detaining it, but
it was gone. So vivid was the impression made upon him
by the apparition that he drew out his log at once and
wrote down all particulars concerning it, with the hour and
day of its appearance. On reaching England after the war
was over, the first dispatches put into his hand were to
announce the death of his brother, who had passed away at
the very hour when he had seen him in the cabin.
But the story that interests me most is one of an incident
which occurred to my father during my lifetime, and which
we have always called " The Brown Lady of Rainham."
I am aware that this narrative has reached the public
THERE IS NO DEATH. 9
through other sources, and I have made it the foundation
of a Christmas story myself. But it is too well authenti-
cated to be omitted here. The last fifteen years of my
father's life were passed on his own estate of Langham, in
Norfolk, and amongst his county friends were Sir Charles
and Lady Townshend of Rainham Hall, At the time I
speak of, the title and property had lately changed hands,
and the new baronet had re-papered, painted, and fur-
nished the Hall throughout, and come down with his wife
and a large party of friends to take possession. But to
their annoyance, soon after their arrival, rumors arose that
the house was haunted, and their guests began, one and
all (like those in the parable), to make excuses to go home
again. Sir Charles and Lady Townshend might have
sung, " Friend after friend departs," with due effect, but it
would have had none on the general exodus that took place
from Rainham. And it was all on account of a Brown
Lady, whose portrait hung in one of the bedrooms, and in
which she was represented as wearing a brown satin dress
with yellow trimmings, and a rulT around her throat — a
very harmless, innocent-looking young woman. But they
all declared they had seen her walking about the house —
some in the corriddr, some in their bedrooms, others in the
lower premises, and neither guests nor servants would
remain in the Hall. The baronet was naturally very much
annoyed about it, and confided his trouble to my father,
and my father was indignant at the trick he believed had
been played upon him. There was a great deal of smug-
gling and poaching in Norfolk at that period, as he knew
well, being a magistrate of the county, and he felt sure that
some of these depredators were trying to frighten the
Townshends away from the Hall again. The last baronet
had been a solitary sort of being, and lead a retired life,
and my father imagined some of the tenantry had their own
reasons for not liking the introduction of revelries and
" high jinks " at Rainham. So he asked his friends to let
him stay with them and sleep in the haunted chamber, and
he felt sure he could rid them of the nuisance. They
accepted his offer, and he took possession of the room in
which the portrait of the apparition hung, and in which she
had been often seen, and slept each night with a loaded
revolver under his pillow. For two days, however, he saw
nothing, and the third was to be the limit of his stay. On
lo THERE IS NO DEATH.
the third night, however, two young men (nephews of the
baronet) knocked at his door as he was undressing to go to
bed, and asked him to step over to their room (which was
at the other end of the corridor), and give tliem his opinion
on a new gun just arrived from London. My father was
in his shirt and trousers, but as the hour was late, and
everybody had retired to rest except themselves, he pre-
pared to accompany them as he was. As they were leav-
ing the room, he caught up his revolver, " in case we meet
the Brown Lady," he said, laughing. When the inspection
of the gun was over, the young men in the same spirit
declared they would accompany my father back again, " in
case you meet the Brown Lady," th?y repeated, laughing
also. The three gentlemen therefore returned in com-
pany.
The corridor was long and dark, for the lights had been
extinguished, but as they reached the middle of it, they
saw the glimmer of a lamp coming towards them from the
other end. " One of the ladies going to visit the nurseries,"
whispered the young Townshends to my father. Now the
bedroom doors in that corridor faced each other, and each
room had a double door with a space between, as is the
case in many old-fashioned country houses. My father (as
I have said) was in a shirt and trousers only, and his native
modesty made him feel uncomfortable, so he slipped within
one of the otcter doors (his friends following his example),
in order to conceal himself until the lady should have
passed by. I have heard him describe how he watched
her approaching nearer and nearer, through the chink of
the door, until, as she was close enough for him to distin-
guish the colors and style of her costume, he recognized
the figure as the facsimile of the portrait of " The Brown
Lady." He had his finger on the trigger of his revolver,
and was about to demand it to stop and give the reason
for its presence there, when the figure halted of its own
accord before the door behind which he stood, and holding
the lighted lamp she carried to her features, grinned in a
malicious and diabolical manner at him. This act so in-
furiated my father, who was anything but lamb-like in dis-
position, that he sprang into the corridor with a bound,
and discharged the revolver right in her face. The figure
instantly disappeared — the figure at which for the space of
several minutes Mr<?<? men had been looking together — and
THERE IS NO DEATH. 1 1
the bullet passed through the outer door of the room on
the opposite side of the corridor, and lodged in the panel
of the inner one. My father never attempted again to in-
terfere with "The Brown Lady of Rainham," and I have
heard that she haunts the premises to this day. That she
did so at that time, however, there is no shadow of doubt.
But Captain Marryat not only held these views and
believed in them from personal experience — he promulgated
them in his writings. There are many passages in his works
which, read by the light of my assertion, prove that he had
faith in the possibility of the departed returning to visit
this earth, and in the theory of re-incarnation or living more
than one life upon it, but nowhere does he speak more
plainly than in the following extract from the " Phantom
Ship " :—
" Think you, PhiHp " (says Amine to her husband),
" that this world is solely peopled by such dross as we
are ? — things of clay, perishable and corruptible, lords over
beasts and ourselves, but little better? Have you not,
from your own sacred writings, repeated acknowledgments
and proofs of higher intelligences, mixing up with mankind,
and acting here below ? Why should what was then not be
now, and what more harm is there to apply for their aid
now than a few thousand years ago ? Why should you
suppose that they were permitted on the earth then and
not permitted now? What has become of them? Have
they perished ? Have they been ordered back ? to where ?
— to heaven ? If to heaven, the world and mankind have
been left to the mercy of the devil and his agents. Do
you suppose that we poor mortals have been thus aban-
doned ? I tell you plainly, I think not. We no longer
have the communication with those intelligences that we
once had, because as we become more enlightened we be-
come more proud and seek them not, but that they still
exist a host of good against a host of evil, invisibly oppos-
ing each other, is my conviction."
One testimony to such a belief, from the lips of my
father, is sufficient. He would not have written it unless
he had been prepared to maintain it. He was not one of
those wretched literary cowards who we meet but too often
now-a-days, who are too much afraid of the world to con-
fess with their mouths the opinions they hold in their
hearts. Had he lived to this time I believe he would havq
12 THERE IS NO DEATH.
been one of the most energetic and outspoken believers in
Spiritualism that we possess. So much, however, for his
testimony to the possibility of spirits, good and evil, revisit-
ing this earth. I think itvj will be found to gainsay the
assertion that where he trod, his daughter need not be
ashamed to follow.
Before the question of Spiritualism, however, arose in
modern times, I had had my own little private experiences
on the subject. From an early age I was accustomed to
see, and to be very much alarmed at seeing, certain forms
that appeared to me at night. One in particular, I remem-
ber, was thatof a very short or deformed old woman, who
was very constant to me. She used to stand on tiptoe to
look at me as I lay in bed, and however dark the room
might be, I could always see every article in it, as if illu-
minated, whilst she remained there.
I was in the habit of communicating these visions to my
mother and sisters (my father had passed from us by that
time), and always got well ridiculed for my pains.
" Another of Flo's optical illusions," they would cry, until
I really came to think that the appearances I saw were
due to some defect in my eye-sight. I have heard my first
husband say, that when he married me he thought he
should never rest for an entire night in his bed, so often
did I wake him with the description of some man or woman
I had seen in the room. I recall these figures distinctly.
They were always dressed in white, from which circum-
stance I imagined that they were natives who had stolen in
to rob us, until, from repeated observation, I discovered
they only formed part of another and more enlarged series
of my '* optical illusions." All this time I was very much
afraid of seeing what I termed " ghosts." No love of occult
science led me to investigate the cause of my alarm. I
only wished never to see the " illusions " again, and was
too frightened to remain by myself lest they should appear
to me.
When I had been married for about two years, the
head-quarters of my husband's regiment, the 12th Madras
Native Infantry, was ordered to Rangoon, whilst the left
wing, commanded by a Major Cooper, was sent to assist
in the bombardment of Canton. Major Cooper had only
been married a short time, and by rights his wife had no
claim to sail with the head-quarters for Burmah, but as she
THERE IS NO DEATH. 13
had no friends in Madras, and was moreover expecting
her confinement, our colonel permitted her to do so, and
she accompanied us to Rangoon, settling herself in a
house not far from our own. One morning, early in July,
I was startled by receiving a hurried scrawl from her, con-
taining only these words, " Come ! come ! come ! " I set
off at once, thinking she had been taken ill, but on my
arrival I found Mrs. Cooper sitting up in bed with only
her usual servants about her. " What is the matter ? " I
exclaimed. " Mark is dead," she answered me ; " he sat
in that chair " (pointing to one by the bedside) " all last
night. I noticed every detail of his face and figure. He
was in undress, and he never raised his eyes, but sat with
the peak of his forage cap pulled down over his face. But
I could see the back of his head and his hair, and I know
it was he. I spoke to him but he did not answer me, and
I am sure he is dead."
Naturally, I imagined this vision to have been dictated
solely by fear and the state of her health. I laughed at
her for a simpleton, and told her it was nothing but fancy,
and reminded her that by the last accounts received from
the seat of war. Major Cooper was perfectly well and anti-
cipating a speedy reunion with her. Laugh as I would,
however, I could not laugh her out of her belief, and see-
ing how low-spirited she was, I offered to pass the night
with her. It was a very nice night indeed. As soon as
ever we had retired to bed, although a lamp burned in the
room, Mrs. Cooper declared that her husband was sitting
in the same chair as the night before, and accused me of
deception when I declared that I saw nothing at all. I
sat up in bed and strained my eyes, but I could discern
nothing but an empty arm-chair, and told her so. She
persisted that Major Cooper sat there, and described his
personal appearance and actions. I got out of bed and
sat in the chair, when she cried out, " Don't, don't ! You
are sitting ri^ht on hivi /" It was evident that the ap-
parition was as real to her as if it had been flesh and
blood. I jumped up again fast enough, not feeling very
comfortable myself, and lay by her side for the remainder
of the night, listening to her asseverations that Major
Cooper was either dying or dead. She would not part with
me, and on the third njght I had to endure the same ordeal
as on the second. After the third night the apparition
14 THERE IS NO DEATH.
ceased to appear to her, and I was permitted to return
home. But before I did so, Mrs. Cooper showed me her
pocket-book, in which she had written down against the
8th, pth, and loth of July this sentence : " Mark sat by my
bedside all night."
The time passed on, and no bad news arrived from
China, but the mails had been intercepted and postal
communication suspended. Occasionally, however, we
received letters by a sailing vessel. At last came Septem-
ber, and on the third of that month Mrs. Cooper's baby
was born and died. She was naturally in great distress
about it, and I was doubly horrified when I was called
from her bedside to receive the news of her husband's
death, which had taken place from a sudden attack of fever
at Macao. We did not intend to let Mrs. Cooper hear of
this until she was convalescent, but as soon as I re-entered
her room she broached the subject.
"Are there any letters from China? " she asked, (Now
this question was remarkable in itself, because the mails
having been cut off, there was no particular date when
letters might be expected to arrive from the seat of war.)
Fearing she would insist upon hearing the news, I tempor-
ized and answered her, " We have received none." " But
there is a letter for me," she continued : " a letter with
the intelligence of Mark's death. It is useless denying it.
I know he is dead. He died on the loth of July." And
on reference to the official memorandum, this was found to
be true. Major Cooper had been taken ill on the first day
he had appeared to his wife, and died on the third. And
this incident was the more remarkable, because they were
neither of them young nor sentimental people, neither had
they lived long enough together to form any very strong
sympathy or accord between them. But as I have related
it, so it occurred.
THERE IS NO DEATH, 15
CHAPTER II.
MY FIRST SEANCE.
I HAD returned from India and spent several years in
England before the subject of Modern Spiritualism was
brought under my immediate notice. Cursorily I had
heard it mentioned by some people as a dreadfully wicked
thing, diabolical to the last degree, by others as a most
amusing pastime for evening parties, or when one wanted
to get some " fun out of the table." But neither descrip-
tion charmed me, nor tempted me to pursue the occupa-
tion. I had already lost too many friends. Spiritualism
(so it seemed to me) must either be humbug or a very
solemn thing, and I neither wished to trifle with it or to be
trifled with by it. And after twenty years' continued ex-
perience I hold the same opinion. I have proved Spirit-
ualism not to be humbug, therefore I regard it in a sacred
light. For, from whatever cause it may proceed, it opens
a vast area for thought to any speculative mind, and it is
a matter of constant surprise to me to see the indifference
with which the world regards it. That it exists is an un-
deniable fact. Men of science have acknowledged it, and
the churches cannot deny it. The only question appears to
be, " What is it, and whe?ice does the power proceed ? "
If (as many clever people assert) from ourselves, then
must these bodies and minds of ours possess faculties
hitherto undreamed of, and which we have allowed to lie
culpably fallow. If our bodies contain magnetic forces
sufficient to raise substantial and apparently living forms
from the bare earth, which our eyes are clairvoyant
enough to see, and which can articulate words which our
ears are clairaudient enough to hear — if, in addition to
this, our minds can read each other's inmost thoughts, can
see what is passing at a distance, and foretell what will
happen in the future, then are our human powers greater
than we have ever imagined, and we ought to do a great
deal more with them than we do. And even regarding
i6 THERE IS NO DEATH.
Spiritualism (xomthat point of view, I cannot understand
the lack of interest displayed in the discovery, to turn
these marvellous powers of the human mind to greater
account.
To discuss it, however, from the usual meaning given to
the word, namely, as a means of communication with the
departed, leaves me as puzzled as before. All Christians
acknowledge they have spirits independent of their bodies,
and that when their bodies die, their spirits will continue
to live on. Wherein, then, lies the terror of the idea that
these liberated spirits will have the privilege of roaming
the universe as they will ? And if they argue the hnpossi-
bility of their return, they deny the records which form
the only basis of their religion. No greater proof can be
brought forward of the truth of Spiritualism than the truth
of the Bible, which teems and bristles with accounts of it
from beginning to end. From the period when the Lord
God walked with Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden,
and the angels came to Abram's tent, and pulled Lot out
of the doomed city ; when the witch of Endor raised up
Samuel, and Balaam's ass spoke, and Ezekiel wrote that
the hair of his head stood up because "a spirit" passed
before him, to the presence of Satan with Jesus in the
desert, and the reappearance of Moses and Elias, the
resurrection of Christ Himself, and His talking and eating
with His disciples, and the final account of John being
caught up to Heaven to receive the Revelations — all is
Spiritualism^ and nothing else. The Protestant Church
that pins its faith upon the Bible, and nothing but the
Bible, cannot deny that the spirits of mortal men have re-
appeared and been recognized upon this earth, as when
the graves opened at the time of the Christ'? crucifixion,
and " many bodies of those that were dead arose and went
into the city, and were seen of many." The Catholic
Church does not attempt to deny it. AH her legends and
miracles (which are disbelieved and ridiculed by the Pro-
testants aforesaid) are founded on the same truth — the
miraculous or supernatural return (as it is styled) of those
who are gone, though I hope to make my readers believe,
as I do, that there is nothing miraculous in it, and far from
being superm-ixxraX it is only a continuation of Nature.
Putting the churches and the Bible, however, on one side,
the History of Nations proves it to be possible. There is
THERE IS NO DEATH. tf
not a people on the face of the globe that has not its
(so-called) superstitions, nor a family hardly, which has
not experienced some proofs of spiritual communion with
earth. Where learning and science have thrust all belief
out of sight, it is only natural that the man who does not
believe in a God nor a Hereafter should not credit the
existence of spirits, nor the possibility of communicating
with them. But the lower we go in the scale of society,
the more simple and childlike the mind, the more readily
does such a faith gain credence, and the more stories you
will hear to justify belief. It is just the same with religion,
which is hid from the wise and prudent, and revealed to
babes.
If I am met here with the objection that the term " Spi-
ritualism " has been at times mixed up with so much that
is evil as to become an offence, I have no better answer to
make than by turning to the irrefragable testimony of the
Past and Present to prove that in all ages, and of all reli-
gions, there have been corrupt and demoralized exponents
whose vices have threatened to pull down the fabric they
lived to raise. Christianity itself would have been over-
thrown before now, had we been unable to separate its
doctrine from its practice.
I held these views in the month of February, 1873, when
I made one of a party of friends assembled at the house of
Miss Elizabeth Philip, in Gloucester Crescent, and was
introduced to Mr. Henry Dunphy of the Morning Fost,
both of them since gone to join the great majority. Mr.
Dunphy soon got astride of his favorite hobby of Spiritual-
ism, and gave me an interesting account of some of the
seances he had attended. I had heard so many clever men
and women discuss the subject before, that I had begun to
believe on their authority that there must be " something
in it," but I held the opinion that sittings in the dark must
afford so much liberty for deception, that I would engage
in none where I was not permitted the use of my eye-
sight.
I expressed myself somewhat after this fashion to Mr.
Dunphy. He replied, "Then the time has arrived for you
to investigate Spiritualism, for I can introduce you to a
medium who will show you the faces of the dead." This
proposal exactly met my wishes, and I gladly accepted it.
Annie Thomas (Mrs. Pender Cudlip,) the novelist, who is
2
1 8 THERE IS NO DEATH.
an intimate friend of mine, was staying with me at the time
and became as eager as I was to investigate the phenomena.
We took the address Mr. Dunphy gave us of Mrs. Hohnes,
the American medium, then visiting London, and lodging
in Old Quebec Street, Portman Square, but we refused his
introduction, preferring to go iftcognito. Accordingly, the
next evening, when she held a public seance, we presented
ourselves at Mrs. Holmes' door ; and having first removed
our wedding-rings, and tried to look as virginal as possible,
sent up our names as Miss Taylor and Miss Turner. I am
perfectly aware that this medium was said afterwards to be
untrustworthy. So may a servant who was perfectly
honest, whilst in my service, leave me for a situation where
she is detected in theft. That does not alter the fact that
she stole nothing from me. I do not think I know a single
medium of whom I have nor (at some time or other) heard
the same thing, and I do not think I know a single woman
whom I have not also, at some time or other, heard scan-
dalized by her own sex, however pure and chaste she may
imagine the world holds her. The question affects me in
neither case. I value my acquaintances for what they are
to me, not for what they may be to others; and I have
placed trust in my media from what I individually have
seen and heard, and proved to be genuine in their presence,
and not from what others may imagine they have found
out about them. It is no detriment to my witness that the
media I sat with cheated somebody else, either before or
after. My business was only to take care that / was not
cheated, and I have never, in Spiritualism, accepted any-
thing at the hands of others that I could not prove for my-
self.
Mrs. Holmes did not receive us very graciously on the
present occasion. We were strangers to her — probably
sceptics, and she eyed us rather coldly. It was a bitter
night, and the snow lay so thick upon the ground that we
had some difficulty in procuring a hansom to take us from
Bayswater to Ola Quebec Street. No other visitors arrived,
and after a little while Mrs. Holmes offered to return our
money (ten shillings), as she said if she did sit with us,
there would probably be no manifestations on account of
the inclemency of the weather. (Often since then I have
proved her assertion to be true, and found that any
extreme of heat or cold is liable to make a seance a dead
failure).
THERE IS KO DEATIL tg
But Annie Thomas had to return to her home in Tor-
quay on the following day, and so we begged the medium
to try at least to show us something, as we were very
curious on the subject. I am not quite sure what I ex-
pected or hoped for on this occasion. I was full of curiosity
and anticipation, but I am sure that I never thought I
should see any face which I could recognize as having been
on earth. We waited till nine o'clock in hopes that a circle
would be formed; but as no one else came, Mrs. Holmes
consented to sit with us alone, warning us, however, several
times to prepare for a disappointment. The lights were
therefore extinguished, and we sat for the usual preliminary
dark seance^ which was good, perhaps, but has nothing to
do with a narrative of facts, proved to be so. When it
concluded, the gas was re-Ht and we sat for " Spirit
Faces."
There were two small rooms connected by folding doors.
Annie Thomas and I, were asked to go into the back room
— to lock the door communicating with the landings, and
secure it with our own seal, stamped upon a piece of tape
stretched across the opening — to examine the window and
bar the shutter inside — to search the room thoroughly, in
fact, to see that no one was concealed in it — and we did
all this as a matter of business. When we had satisfied
ourselves that no one could enter from the back, Mr. and
Mrs. Holmes, Annie Thomas, and I were seated on four
chairs in the front room, arranged in a row before the fold-
ing doors, which were opened, and a square of black calico
fastened across the aperture from one wall to the other. In
this piece of calico was cut a square hole about the size of
an ordinary window, at which we were told the spirit faces
(if any) would appear. There was no singing, nor noise of
any sort made to drown the sounds of preparation, and we
could have heard even a rustle in the next room. Mr. and
Mrs. Holmes talked to us of their various experiences,
until, we were almost tired of waiting, when something
white and indistinct like a cloud of tobacco smoke, or a
bundle of gossamer, appeared and disappeared again.
" They are coming ! I am glad 1 " said Mrs. Holmes. " I
didn't think we should get anything to-night," — and my
friend and I were immediately on the tiptoe of expectation.
The white mass advanced and retreated several times, and
finally settled before the aperture and opened in the mid-
20 THERE IS NO DEATH.
die, when a female face was distinctly to be seen above the
black calico. What was our amazement to recognize the
features of Mrs. Thomas, Annie Thomas' mother. Here I
should tell my readers that Annie's father, who was a lieu-
tenant in the Royal Navy and captain of the coastguard at
Morston in Norfolk, had been a near neighbor and great
friend of my father. Captain Marryat, and their children
had associated like brothers and sisters. I had therefore
known Mrs. Thomas well, and recognized her at once, as,
of course, did her daughter. The witness of two people is
considered sufficient in law. It ought to be accepted by
society. Poor Annie was very much affected, and talked to
her mother in the most incoherent manner. The spirit did
not appear able to answer in words, but she bowed her
head or shook it, according as she wished to say "yes " or
" no." I could not help feeling awed at the appearance of
the dear old lady, but the only thing that puzzled me was
the cap she wore, which was made of white net, quilled
closely round her face, and unlike any I had ever seen her
wear in life. I whispered this to Annie, and she replied
at once, " It is the cap she was buried in," which settled
the question. Mrs. Thomas had possessed a very pleasant
but very uncommon looking face, with bright black eyes,
and a complexion of pink and white like that of a child. It
was some time before Annie could be persuaded to let her
mother go, but the next face that presented itself astonished
her quite as much, for she recognized it as that of Captain
Gordon, a gentleman whom she had known intimately and
for a length of time. I had never seen Captain Gordon in
the flesh, but I had heard of him, and knew he had died
from a sudden accident. All I saw was the head of a good-
looking, fair, young man, and not feeling any personal
interest in his appearance, I occupied the time during
which my friend conversed with him about olden days, by
minutely examining the working of the muscles of his
throat, which undeniably stretched when his head moved.
As I was doing so, he leaned forward, and I saw a dark
stain, which looked like a clot of blood, on his fair hair, on
the left side of the forehead.
" Annie ! what did Captain Gordon die of? " I asked.
** He fell from a railway carriage," she replied, " and struck
his head upon the line." I then pointed out to her the
blood upon his hair. Several other faces appeared, which
THERE IS NO DEATH. 21
we could not recognize. At last came one of a gentleman,
apparently moulded like a bust in plaster of Paris. He had
a kind of smoking cap upon the head, curly hair, and a
beard, but from being perfectly colorless, he looked so un-
like nature, that I could not trace a resemblance to any
friend of mine, though he kept on bowing in my direction,
to indicate that I knew, or had known him. I examined
this face again and again in vain. Nothing in it struck me
as familiar, until the mouth broke into a grave, amused
smile at my perplexity. In a moment I recognized it as
that of my dear old friend, John Powles, whose history I
shall relate inextenso further on. I exclaimed "Powles,"
and sprang towards it, but with my hasty action the figure
disappeared. I was terribly vexed at my imprudence, for
this was the friend of all others I desired to see, and sat
there, hoping and praying the spirit would return, but it did
not. Annie Thomas' mother and friend both came back
several times ; indeed, Annie recalled Captain Gordon so
often, that on his last appearance the power was so ex-
hausted, his face looked like a faded sketch in water-colors,
but " Powles " had vanished altogether. The last face we
saw that night was that of a little girl, and only her eyes
and nose were visible, the rest of her head and face being
enveloped in some white flimsy material like muslin. Mrs.
Holmes asked her for whom she came, and she intimated
that it was for me. I said she must be mistaken, and that
I had known no one in life like her. The medium ques-
tioned her very closely, and tried to put her "out of court,"
as it were. Still, the child persisted that she came for
me. Mrs. Holmes said to me, " Cannot you remember
anyone of that age connected with you in the spirit
world ? No cousin, nor niece, nor sister, nor the child of
a friend ? " I tried to remember, but I could not, and
answered, " No ! no child of that age." She then addressed
the little spirit. " You have made a mistake. There is no
one here who knows you. You had better move on." So
the child did move on, but very slowly and reluctantly. I
could read her disappointment in her eyes, and after she
had disappeared, she peeped round the corner again and
looked at me, longingly. This was " Florence," my dear
lost child (as I then called her), who had left me as a little
infant of ten days old, and whom I could not at first recog-
nize as a young girl of ten years. Her identity, however,
22 THERE IS 1^0 DEATH.
has been proved to me since, beyond all doubt, as will be
seen in the chapter which relates my reunion with her, and
is headed " My Spirit Child." Thus ended the first seance
at which I ever assisted, and it made a powerful impression
upon my mind. Mrs. Holmes, in bidding us good-night,
said, " You two ladies must be very powerful mediums. I
never held so successful a seance with strangers in my life
before." This news elated us — we were eager to pursue
our investigations, and were enchanted to think we could
have seances at home, and as soon as Annie Thomas took
up her residence in London, we agreed to hold regular
meetings for the purpose. This was the seance that made
me a student of the psychological phenomena, which the
men of the nineteenth century term Spiritualism. Had it
turned out a failure, I might now have been as most men
are. Qtiien sabe ? As it was, it incited me to go on and on,
until I have seen and heard things which at that moment
would have seemed utterly impossible to me. And I would
not have missed the experience I have passed through for
all the good this world could offer me
THERE IS NO DEATH, 23
CHAPTER III.
CURIOUS COINCIDENCES.
Before I proceed to write down the results of my private
and premeditated investigations, I am reminded to say a
word respecting the permission I received for the pursuit
of Spiritualism. As soon as I expressed my curiosity on
the subject, I was met on all sides with the objection that,
as I am a Catholic, I could not possibly have anything to
do with the matter, and it is a fact that the Church strictly
forbids all meddling with necromancy, or communion with
the departed. Necromancy is a terrible word, is it not?
especially to such people as do not understand its meaning,
and only associate it with the dead of night and charmed
circles, and seething caldrons, and the arch fiend, in
propria persona, with two horns and a tail. Yet it seems
strange to me that the Catholic Church, whose very doc-
trine is overlaid with Spiritualism, and who makes it a
matter of belief that the Saints hear and help us in our
prayers and the daily actionsof our lives, and recommends
our kissing the ground every morning at the feet of our
guardian angel, should consider it unlawful for us to com-
municate with our departed relatives. I cannot see the
difference in iniquity between speaking to John Powles,
who was and is a dear and trusted friend of mine, and
Saint Peter of Alcantara, who is an old man whom I never
saw in this life. They were both men, both mortal, and
are both spirits. Again, surely my mother who was a
pious woman all her life, and is now in the other world,
would be just as likely to take an interest in my welfare,
and to try and promote the prospect of our future meeting,
as Saint Veronica Guiliani, who is my patron. Yet were
I to spend half my time in prayer before Saint Veronica's
altar, asking her help and guidance, I should be doing
right (according to the Church), but if I did the same thing
at my mother's grave, or spoke to her at a seance, I should
be doing wrong. These distinctions without a difference
34 THERE IS NO DEATH.
were hard nuls to crack, and I was bound to settle the
matter with my conscience before I went on with my
investigations.
It is a fact that I have met quite as many Catholics as
Protestants (especially of the higher classes) amongst the
investigators of Spiritualism, and I have not been surprised
at it, for who could better understand and appreciate the
beauty of communications from the spirit world than mem-
bers of that Church which instructs us to believe in the
communion of saints, as an ever-present, though invisible
mystery. Whether my Catholic acquaintances had received
permission to attend seances or not, was no concern of
mine, but I took good care to procure it for myself, and I
record it here, because rumors have constantly reached me
of people having said behind my back that I can be " no
Catholic " because I am a spiritualist.
My director at that time was Father Dalgairn, of the
Oratory at Brompton, and it was to him I took my diffi-
culty. I was a very constant press writer and reviewer,
and to be unable to attend and report on spiritualistic
meetings would have seriously militated against my pro-
fessional interests. I represented this to the Father, and
(although under protest) I received his permission to pur-
sue the research in the cause of science. He did more than
ease my conscience. He became interested in what I had
to tell him on the subject, and we had many conversations
concerning it. He also lent me from his own library the
lives of such saints as had heard voices and seen visions,
of those in fact who (like myself) had been the victims of
"Optical Illusions." Amongst these I found the case of
Saint Anne-Catherine of Emmerich, so like my own, that I
began to think that I too might turn out to be a saint in
disguise. It has not come to pass yet, but there is no know-
ing what may happen.
She used to see the spirits floating beside her as she
walked to mass, and heard them asking her to pray for them
as they pointed to " les taches sur leurs robes." The musical
instruments used to play without hands in her presence,
and voices from invisible throats sound in her ears, as they
have done in mine. I have only inserted this clause, how-
ever, for the satisfaction of those Catholic acquaintances
with whom I have sat at seances^ and who will probably be
the first to exclaim against the publication of our joint ex-
THERE IS NO DEATH. 25
periences. I trust they will acknowledge, after reading it,
that I am not worse than themselves, though I may be a
little bolder in avowing my opinions.
Before I began this chapter, I had an argument with
that friend of mine called Self (who has but too often wor-
sted me in the Battle of Life), as to whether I should say
anything about table-rapping or tilting. The very fact of
so common an article of furniture as a table, as an agent
of communication with the unseen world, has excited so
much ridicule and opens so wide a field for chicanery, tliat
I thought it would be wiser to drop the subject, and con-
fine myself to those phases of the science or art, or religion,
or whatever the reader may like to call it, that can be
explained or described on paper. The philosophers of the
nineteenth century have invented so many names for the
cause that makes a table turn round — tilt — or rap — that I
feel quite unable (not being a philosopher) to cope with
them. It is " magnetic force " or "psychic force," — it is
" unconscious cerebration " or " brain-reading " — and it is
exceedingly difficult to tell the outside world of the private
reasons that convince individuals that the answers they
receive are not emanations from their own brains. I shall
not attempt to refute their reasonings from their own
standpoint. I see the difficulties in the way, so much so
that I have persistently refused for many years past to sit
at the table with strangers, for it is only a lengthened study
of the matter that can possibly convince a person of its
truth. I cannot, however, see the extreme folly myself of
holding communication (under the circumstances) through
the raps or tilts of a table, or any other object. These tiny
indications of an influence ulterior to our own are not
necessarily confined to a table. I have received them
through a cardboard box, a gentleman's hat, a footstool,
the strings of a guitar, and on the back of my chair, even
on the pillow of my bed. And which, amongst the phil-
osophers I have alluded to, could suggest a simpler mode
of communication ?
I have put the question to clever men thus : " Suppose
yourself, after having been able to write and talk to me,
suddenly deprived of the powers of speech and touch, and
made invisible, so that we could not understand each other
by signs, wliat better means than by taps or tilts on any
article^ when the right word or letter is named, could you
think of by which to communicate with me ? "
26 THERE IS NO DEATH.
And my clever men have never been able to propose an
easier or more sensible plan, and if anybody can suggest
one, I should very much like to hear of it. The following
incidents all took place through the much-ridiculed tipping
of the table, but managed to knock some sense out of it
nevertheless. On looking over the note book which I
faithfully kept when we first held seances at home, I find
many tests of identity which took place through my own
mediumship, and which could not possibly have been the
effects of thought-reading. I devote this chapter to their
relation. I hope it will be observed with what admirable
caution I have headed it. I have a few drops of Scotch
blood in me by the mother's side, and I think they must
have aided me here. " Curious coincidences." Why, not
the most captious and unbelieving critic of them all can
find fault with so modest and unpretending a title. Every-
one believes in the occasional possibility of " curious coin-
cidences."
It was not until the month of June, 1873, that we formed
a home circle, and commenced regularly to sit together.
We became so interested in the pursuit, that we used to
sit every evening, and sometimes till three and four o'clock
in the morning, greatly to our detriment, both mental and
physical. We seldom sat alone, being generally joined by
two or three friends from outside, and the results were
sometimes very startling, as we were a strong circle. The
memoranda of these sittings, sometimes with one party and
sometimes with another, extend over a period of years,
but I shall restrict myself to relating a itw incidents that
were verified by subsequent events.
The means by which we communicated with the influ-
ences around us was the usual one. We sat round the
table and laid our hands upon it, and I (or anyone who
might be selected for the purpose) spelled over the alpha-
bet, and raps or tilts occurred when the desired letter was
reached. This in reality is not so tedious a process as it
may appear, and once used to it, one may get through a
vast amount of conversation in an hour by this means. A
medium is soon able to guess the word intended to be
spelt, for there are not so many after all in use in general
conversation.
Some one had come to our table on several occasions,
giving the name of" Valerie," but refusing to say any more,
THERE IS NO DEATH. 27
so we thought she was an idle or frivolous spirit, and had
been in the habit of driving her away. One evening, on
the ist of July, however, our circle was augmented by
Mr. Henry Stacke, when " Valerie " was immediately
spelled out, and the following conversation ensued. INIr.
Stacke said to me, " Who is tliis ? " and I replied care-
lessly, " O ! she's a little devil ! She never has anything
to say." The table rocked violently at this, and the taps
spelled out.
" Je ne suis pas diable."
" Hullo ! Valerie, so you can talk now I For whom do
you come ? "
" Monsieur Stacke."
*' Where did you meet him ? "
" On the Continent."
" Whereabouts ? "
" Between Dijon and Ma^on."
'* How did you meet him ? "
" In a railway carriage."
" What where you doing there ? "
Here she relapsed into French, and said,
" Ce m'est impossible de dire."
At this juncture Mr. Stacke observed that he had never
been in a train between Dijon and Magon but once in his
life, and if the spirit was with him then, she must remem-
ber what was the matter with their fellow-passenger.
"Mais oui, oui — il etait fou," she replied, which proved
to be perfectly correct. Mr. Stacke also remembered that
two ladies in the same carriage had been terribly fright-
ened, and he had assisted them to get into another.
" Valerie " continued, " Priez pour moi."
" Pourquoi, Valerie ? "
" Parceque j'ai beaucoup peche."
There was an influence who frequented our society at
that time and called himself " Charlie."
He stated that his full name had been " Stephen Charles
Bernard Abbot," — that he had been a monk of great
literary attainments — that he had embraced the monastic
life in the reign of Queen Mary, and apostatized for politi-
cal reasons in that of Elizabeth, and been "earth bound "
in consequence ever since.
" Charlie " asked us to sing one night, and we struck up
the very vulgar refrain of " Champagne Charlie," to which
he greatly objected, asking for something more serious.
28 THERE IS NO DEATH.
I began, " Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon."
"Why, that's as bad as the other," said Cliarlie. "It
was a ribald and obscene song in the reign of Elizabeth.
The drunken roysterers used to sing it in the street as they
rolled home at night."
" You must be mistaken, Charlie ! It's a well-known
Scotch air."
" It's no more Scotch than I am," he replied. " The
Scotch say they invented everything. It's a tune of the
time of Elizabeth. Ask Brinley Richards."
Having the pleasure of the acquaintance of that gentle-
man, who was the great authority on the origin of National
Ballads, I applied to him for the information, and received
an answer to say that " Charlie " was right, but that Mr.
Richards had not been aware of the fact himself until he
had searched some old MSS. in the British Museum for the
purpose of ascertaining the truth.
I was giving a sitting once to an officer from Aldershot,
a cousin of my own, who was quite prepared to ridicule
every thing that took place. After having teased me into
giving him a seance, he began by cheating himself, and
then accused me of cheating him, and altogether tired out
my patience. At last I proposed a test, though with little
hope of success.
" Let us ask John Powles to go down to Aldershot," I
said, " and bring us word what your brother officers are
doing."
" O, yes ! by Jove ! Capital idea ! Here ! you fellow
Powles, cut off to the camp, will you, and go to the barracks
of the 84th, and let us know what Major R is doing."
The message came back in about three minutes. " Major
R has just come in from duty," spelt out Powles.
" He is sitting on the side of his bed, changing his uniform
trousers for a pair of grey tweed."
" I'm sure that's wrong," said my cousin, " because the
men are never called out at this time of the day."
It was then four o'clock, as we had been careful to ascer-
tain. My cousin returned to camp the same evening, and
the next day I received a note from him to say, " That
fellow Powles is a brick. It was quite right. R was
unexpectedly ordered to turn out his company yesterday
afternoon, and he returned to barracks and changed his
things for the grey tweed suit exactly at four o'clock."
THERE IS MO DEATH. 29
But I have always found my friend Powles (when he w///
condescend to do anything for strangers, which is seldom)
remarkably correct in detailing the thoughts and actions of
absentees, sometimes on the other side of the globe.
I went one afternoon to pay an ordinary social call on a
lady named Mrs. W . and found her engaged in an
earnest conversation on Spiritualism with a stout woman
and a commonplace man — two as material looking indi-
viduals as ever I saw, and who appeared all the more so
under a sultry August sun. As soon as Mrs. "W saw
me, she exclaimed, " O ! here is Mrs. Ross-Church. She
will tell you all about the spirits. Do, Mrs. Ross-Church,
sit down at the table and let us have a seance."
A seance on a burning, blazing afternoon in August, with
two stolid and uninteresting, and worse still, uninterested
looking strangers, who appeared to think Mrs. \Y had
a " bee in her bonnet." I protested — I reasoned — I pleaded
— all in vain. !My hostess continued to urge, and society
places the guest at the mercy of her hostess. So, in an evil
temper, I pulled off my gloves, and placed my hands indif-
ferently on the table. The following words were at once
rapped out —
" I am Edward G . Did you ever pay Johnson the
seventeen pounds twelve you received for my saddlery?"
The gentleman opposite to me turned all sorts of colors,
and began to stammer out a reply, whilst his wife looked
very confused. I asked the influence, " Who are you? "
It replied, " He knows ! His late colonel ! Why hasn't
Johnson received that money ? " This is what I call an
" awkward " coincidence, and I have had many such occur
through me — some that have driven acquaintances away
from the table, vowing vengeance against me, and racking
their brains to discover ivho had told me of their secret
peccadilloes. The gentleman in question (whose name
even I do not remember) confessed that the identity and
main points of the message were true, but he did not con-
fide to us whether Johnson had ever received that seven-
teen pounds twelve.
I had a beautiful English greyhound, called •' Clytie," a
gift from Annie Thomas to me, and this dog was given to
straying from my house in Colville Road, Bayswater,
which runs parallel to Portobello Road, a rather objection-
able quarter, composed of inferior shops, one of which, a
30 THERE IS NO DEATH.
fried fish shop, was an intolerable nuisance, and used to
fill the air around with its rich perfume. On one occasion
'' Clytie " stayed away from home so much longer than
usual, that I was afraid she was lost in good earnest, and
posted bills offering a reward for her. " Charlie " came to
the table that evening and said, *' Don't offer a reward for
the dog. Send for her."
" Where am I to send ? " I asked.
" She is tied up at the fried fish shop in Portobello Road.
Send the cook to see."
I told the servant in question that I had heard the grey-
hound was detained at the fish shop, and sent her to
inquire. She returned with '* Clytie." Her account was,
that on making inquiries, the man in the sliop had been
very insolent to her, and she had raised her voice in reply ;
that she had then heard and recognized the sharp, peculiar
bark of the greyhound from an upper storey, and, running
up before the man could prevent her, she had found
" Clytie " tied up to a bedstead with a piece of rope, and
had called in a policeman to enable her to take the dog
away. I have often heard the assertion that Spiritualism is
of no practical good, and, doubtless, it was never intended
to be so, but this incident was, at least, an exception to
the rule.
When abroad, on one occasion, I was asked by a Ca-
tholic Abbe to sit with him. He had never seen any
manifestations before, and he did not believe in them, but
he was curious on the subject. I knew nothing of him
further than that he was a priest, and a Jesuit, and a great
friend of my sister's, at whose house I was staying. He
spoke English, and the conversation was carried on in that
language. He had told me beforehand that if he could
receive a perfectly private test, that he should never doubt
the truth of the manifestations again. I left him, therefore,
to conduct the investigation entirely by himself, I acting
only as the medium between him and the infiuence. As
soon as the table moved he put his question direct, without
asking who was there to answer it.
" Where is my chasuble ? "
Now a priest's chasuble, / should have said, must be
either hanging in the sacristy or packed away at home, or
been sent away to be altered or mended. But the answer
was wide of all my speculations.
THERE IS NO DEATH. 31
" At the bottom of the Red Sea."
The priest started, but continued —
Who put it there? "
" Elias Dodo."
"What was his object in doing so?"
" He found the parcel a burthen, and did not expect
any reward for delivering it."
The Abb6 really looked as if he had encountered the
devil. He wiped the perspiration from his forehead, and
put one more question.
" Of what was my chasuble made ? "
" Your sister's wedding dress."
The priest then explained to me that his sister had made
him a chasuble out of her wedding dress — one of the forms
of returning thanks in the Church, but that after a while it
became old fashioned, and the Bishop, going his rounds,
ordered him to get another. He did not like to throw
away his sister's gift, so he decided to send the old chasu-
ble to a priest in India, where they are very poor, and not
so particular as to fashion. He confided the packet to a
man called Elias Dodo, a sufficiently singular name, but
neither he nor the priest he sent it to had ever heard any-
thing more of the chasuble, or the man who promised to
deliver it.
A young artist of the name of Courtney was a visitor at
my house. He asked me to sit with him alone, when the
table began rapping out a number of consonants — a farrago
of nonsense, it appeared to me, and I stopped and said so.
But Mr. Courtney, who appeared much interested, begged
me to proceed. When the communication was finished, he
said to me, " This is the most wonderful thing I have ever
heard. My father has been at the table talking to me in
Welsh. He has told me our family motto, and all about
my birth-place and relations in Wales." I said, " I never
heard you were a Welshman." " Yes ! I am,'' he replied,
" my real name is Powell. I have only adopted the name
of "Courtney for professional purposes."
This was all news to me, but had it not been, I cannot
speak Welsh.
I could multiply such cases by the dozen, but that I fear
to tire my readers, added to which the majority of thera
were of so strictly private a nature that it would be impos-
sible to put them into print. This is perhaps the greatest
32 THERE IS NO DEATH,
drawback that one encounters in trying to prove the truth
of Spiritualism. The best tests we receive are when the
very secrets of our hearts, which we have not confided to
our nearest friends, are revealed to us. I could relate (had
I the permission of the persons most interested) the parti-
culars of a well-known law suit, in which the requisite
evidence, and names and addresses of witnesses, were all
given though my mediumship, and were the cause of the
case being gained by the side that came to me for " infor-
mation." Some of the coincidences I have related in this
chapter might, however, be ascribed by the sceptical to
the mysterious and unknown power of brain reading,
whatever that may be, and however it may come, apart
from mediumship, but how is one to account for the facts
I shall tell you in my next chapter.
THERE IS NO DEATH. 33
CHAPTER IV.
EMBODIED SPIRITS.
I WAS having a sitting one day in my own house with a
lady friend, named Miss Clark, when a female spirit came
to the table and spelt out the name " Tiny."
"Who are you?" I asked, "and for whom do you
come ? "
"I am a friend of Major M " (mentioning the full
name, " and I want your help."
" Are you any relation to Major I\I ? "
" I am the motiier of his child."
" What do you wish me to do for you ? "
" Tell him he must go down to Portsmouth and look
after my daughter. He has not seen her for years. The
old woman is dead, and the man is a drunkard. She is
falling into evil courses. He must save her from them."
" What is your real name ? "
" I will not give it. There is no need. He always called
me ' Tiny.' "
" How old is your daughter.
" Nineteen ! Her name is Emily ! I want her to be
married. Tell him to promise her a wedding trousseau. It
may induce her to marry."
The influence divulged a great deal more on the subject
which I cannot write down here. It was an account of one
of those cruel acts of seduction by which a young girl had
been led into trouble in order to gratify a man's selfish
lust, and astonished both Miss Clark and myself, who had
never heard of such a person as " Tiny " before. It was
too delicate a matter for me to broach to Major M
(who was a married man, and an intimate friend of mine),
but the spirit came so many times and implored me so
earnestly to save her daughter, that at last I ventured to
repeat tlae communication to him. He was rather taken
aback, but confessed it was true, and that the child, being
left to his care, had been given over to the charge of some
3
34 THERE IS NO DEATH.
common people at Portsmouth, and he had not enquired
after it for some time past. Neither had he ever lieard of
the death of the mother, who had subsequently married,
and had a family. He instituted inquiries, however, at
once, and found the statement to be quite true, and that
the girl Emily, being left with no better protection than
that of the drunken old man, had actually gone astray,
and not long after she was had up at the police court for
stabbing a soldier in a public-house — a fit ending for the
unfortunate offspring of a man's selfish passions. But the
strangest part of the story to the uninitiated will lie in the
fact that the woman whose spirit thus manifested itself to
two utter strangers, who knew neither her history nor her
name, was at the time alive, and living with her husband
and family, as Major M took pains to ascertain.
And now I have something to say on ihe subject of
communicating with the spirits of persons still in the flesh.
This will doubtless appear the most incompreliensiblc and
fanatical assertion of all, that we wear our earthly garb so
loosely, that the spirits of people still living in this world
can leave the body and manifest themselves either visibly
or orally to others in their normal condition. And yet it
is a fact that spirits have so visited myself (as in the case
I have just recorded), and given me information of which
I had not the slightest previous idea. The matter has been
explained to me after this fashion — that it is not really the
spirit of the living person who communicates, but the
spirit, or " control," that is nearest to him : in effect what
the Church calls his " guardian angel," and that this
guardian angel, who knows his inmost thoughts and de-
sires better even than he knows them himself, is equally
capable of speaking in his name. This idea of the matter
may shift the marvel from one pair of shoulders to another,
but it does not do away with it. If I can receive informa-
tion of events before they occur (as I will prove that I
have), I present a nut for the consideration of the public
jaw, which even the scientists will find difiicult to crack.
It was at one time my annual custom to take my children
to the sea-side, and one summer, being anxious to ascer-
tain how far the table could be made to net without the
aid of " unconscious cerebration," I arranged with my
friends, Mr. Helmore and Mrs. Colnaghi, who had been in
the habit of sitting with us at home, that we should con-
THERE IS XO DEATH. 35
tinue to sit at the sea-side on Tuesday evenings as there-
tofore, and they should sit in London on the Thursdays,
when I would try to send them messages through " Char-
lie," the spirit I have already mentioned as being constantly
with us.
The first Tuesday my message was, " Ask them how
they are getting on without us," which was* faithfully de-
livered at their table on the following Thursday. The
return message from them which "Charlie" spelled out
for us on the second Tuesday, was : " Tell her London is
a desert without her," to which I emphatically, if not
elegantly, answered, " Fiddle-de-dee ! " A {t\v days after-
wards I received a letter from Mr. Helmore, in which he
said, " I am afraid ' Charlie ' is already tired of playing at
postman> for to all our questions about you last Thursday,
he would only rap out, ' Fiddle-de-dee.' "
The circumstance to which this little episode is but an
introduction happened a few days later. Mr. Colnaghi and
Mr. Helmore, sitting together as Msual on Thursday even-
ing, were discussing the possibility of summoning the
spirits'' of living persons to the table, when "Charlie"
rapped three times to intimate they could.
" Will you fetch some one for us, Charlie ? "
"Yes."
" Whom will you bring? "
'•' Mrs. Ross-Church."
" How long will it take you to do so ">"
" Fifteen minutes."
It was in the middle of the night when I must have
been fast asleep, and the two young men told me after-
wards that they waited the results of their experiment
with much trepidation, wondering (I suppose) if I should
be conveyed bodily into their presence and box their ears
well for their impertinence. Exactly fifteen minutes after-
wards, however, the table was violently shaken and the
words were spelt out. " I am Mrs, Ross-Church. How
dared you send for me?" They were very penitent (or
they said they were), but they described my manner as
most arbitrary, and said I went on repeating, " Let me go
back ! Let me go back ! There is a great danger hanging
over my children 1 I must go back to my children ! "
(And here I would xt\wx\\i par paretithese, and in contra-
diction of the guardian angel theory, that I have always
36 THERE IS KO DEATH.
found that wliilst the spirits of the departed come and go
as they feel inchned, the spirits of the living invariably
beg to be sent back again or permitted to go, as if they
were chained by the will of the medium.) On this occasion
I was so positive that I made a great impression on my
two friends, and the next day Mr. Helmore sent me a
cautiously wowled letter to find out if all was well with us
at Charmouth, but without disclosing the reason for his
curiosity.
Tht facts are, that on the morning of Friday, the day
after the seance in London, my seven children and two
nurses were all sitting in a small lodging-house room, when
my brother-in-law, Dr. Henry Norris, came in from ball
practice with the volunteers, and whilst exhibiting his rifle
to my son, accidentally discharged it in the midst of them,
the ball passing through the wall within two inches of my
eldest daughter's head. When I wrote the account of this
to Mr. Helmore, he told me of my visit to London and
the words I had spelt OHt on the occasion. But how did
I know of the occurrence the night before it took place ?
And if I — being asleep and unconscious — did not know of
it, " Charlie " must have done so.
My serial visits to my friends, however, whilst my body
was in quite another place, have been made still more pal-
pable than this. Once, when living in the Regent's Park,
I passed a very terrible and painful night. Grief and fear
kept me awake most of the time, and the morning found
me exhausted with the emotion I had gone through. About
eleven o'clock there walked in, to my surprise, Mrs. Fitz-
gerald (better known as a medium under her maiden name
of Bessie Williams), who lived in the Goldhawk Road, Shep-
herd's Bush. " I couldn't help coming to you," she com-
menced, " for I shall not be easy until I know how you
are after the terrible scene you have passed through." I
stared at her. "Whom have you seen? " I asked. " Who
has told you of it ? " '^ Yourself," she replied. " I was
waked up this morning between two and three o'clock by
the sound of sobbing and crying in the front garden. I
got out of bed and opened the window, and then I saw
you standing on the grass plat in your night-dress and cry-
ing bitterly. I asked you what was the matter, and you
told me so and so, and so and so." And here followed a
detailed account of all that had happened in my own
THERE IS NO DEATH. 37
house on tlie other side of London, with the very words
that had been used, and every action that had happened.
I had seen no one and spoken to no one between tlie oc-
currence and the time Mrs. Fitzgerald called upon me. If
her story was untrue, lulio had so minutely informed her
of a circumstance which it was to the interest of all con-
cerned to keep to themselves ?
When I first joined Mr. d'Oyley Carte's " Patience "
Company in the provinces, to play the part of " Lady
Jane," I understood I was to have four days' rehearsal.
However, the lady whom I succeeded, hearing I had
arrived, took herself off, and the manager requested I
would appear the same night of my arrival. This was
rather an ordeal to an artist who had never sung on the
operatic stage before, and who was not note perfect. How-
ever, as a matter of obligation, I consented to do my best,
but I was very nervous. At the end of the second act,
during the balloting scene. Lady Jane has to appear sud-
denly on the stage, with the word " Away ! " I forget at
this distance of time whether I made a mistake in pitching
the note a third higher or lower. I know it was not out of
harmony, but it was sufficiently wrong to send the chorus
astray, and bring my heart up into my mouth. It never
occurred after the first night, but I never stood at the
wings again waiting for that particular entrance but I
" girded my loins together," as it were, with a kind of
dread lest I should repeat the error. After a while I per-
ceived a good deal of whispering about me in the company,
and I asked poor Federici (who played the colonel) the
reason of it, particularly as he had previously asked me
to stand as far from him as I could upon the stage,
as I magnetized him so strongly that he couldn't sing if I
was near him. " Well ! do you know," he said to ine in
answer, " that a very strange thing occurs occasionally with
reference to you. Miss Marryat. While you are standing
on jhe stage sometimes, you appear seated in the stalls.
Several people have seen it beside myself. I assure you
it is true."
" But when do you see me ? "' I enquired with amaze-
ment.
"It's always at the same time," he answered, " just
before you run on at the end of the second act. Of course
it's only an appearance, but it's very queer." I told him
38 THERE IS NO DEATH.
then of the strange feeHngs of distrust of myself I experi-
enced each night at tliat very moment, when my spirit seems
to have preceded myself upon the stage.
I had a friend many years ago in India, who (like many
other friends) had permitted time and separation to come
between us, and alienate us from each other. I had not
seen him nor heard from him for eleven years, and to all
appearance our fiiendship was at an end. One evening
the medium I have alluded to above, Mrs. Fitzgerald, who
was a personal friend of mine, was at my house, and after
dinner she put her feet up on the sofa — a very unusual
thing for her — and closed her eyes. She and I were quite
alone in the drawing-room, and after a little while I
whispered softly, " Bessie, are you asleep ? " The answer
came from her control " Dewdrop," a wonderfully sharp
Red Indian girl. " No ! she's in a trance. There's some-
body coming to speak to you ! I don't want him to come.
He'll make the medium ill. But it's no use. I see him
creeping round the corner now."
" But why should it make her ill ? " I argued, believing
we were about to hold an ordinary sea?ice.
" Because he's a live one, he hasn't passed over yet,"
replied Dewdrop, " and live ones always make my medium
feel sick. But it's no use. I can't keep him out. He
may as well come. But don't let him stay long."
" Who is he, Dewdrop ? " I demanded curiously.
"/don't know ! Guess j^// will ! He's an old friend
of yours, and his name is George." Whereupon Bessie
Fitzgerald laid back on the sofa cushions, and Dewdrop
ceased to speak. It was some time before there was any
result. The medium tossed and turned, and wiped the
perspiration from her forehead, and pushed back her hair,
and beat up the cushions and threw herself back upon
them with a sigh, and went through all the pantomime of a
man trying to court sleep in a hot climate. Presently she
opened her eyes and glanced languidly around her. JHer
unmistakable actions and the name "George " (which was
that of my friend, then resident in India) had naturally
aroused my suspicions as to the identity of the influence,
and when Bessie opened her eyes, I asked softly, " George,
is that you ? " At the sound of my voice the medium started
violently and sprung into a sitting posture, and then, look-
ing all round the room in a scared manner, she exclaimed,
THERE IS NO DEATH. 39
" Where am I ? Who brought me here ? " Then catching
sight of me, she continued, " Mrs. Ross-Church 1 — Flor-
ence ! Is \\\\'i yonr room ? O ! let me go ! Do let me
go ! "
This was not complimentary, to say the least of it, from
a friend whom I had not met for eleven years, but now that
I had got him I had no intention of letting him go, until I
was convinced of his identity. But the terror of the spirit
at finding himself in a strange place seemed so real and
uncontrollable that I had the greatest difficulty in persuad-
ing him to stay, even for a few minutes. He kept on
reiterating, " Wiio brought me here ? I did not wish to
come. Do let me go back. I am so very cold " (shiver-
ing convulsively), "so very, very cold."
"Answer me a few questions," I said, "and then you
shall go. Do you know who I am ? "
" Yes, yes, you are Florence."
" And what is your name ? " He gave it at full length.
" And do you care for me still ? "
" Very much. But let me go."
" In a minute. Why do you never write to me ? "
" There are reasons. I am not a-free agent. It is better
as it is."
" I don't think so. I miss your letters very mudi. Shall
I ever hear from you again ? "
" Yes ! "
" And see you ? "
"Yes ; but ftot yet. Let me go now. I don't wish to
stay. You are making me very unhappy."
If I could describe the fearful manner in which, during
this conversation, he glanced every moment at the door,
like a man yvho is afraid of being discovered in a guilty
action, it would carry with it to my readers, as it did to me,
the most convincing proof that the medium's body was
animated by a totally different influence from her own. I
kept the spirit under control until I had fully convinced
myself that he knew everything about our former friend-
ship and his own present surroundings ; and then I let him
fly back to India, and wondered if he would wake up the
next morning and imagine he had been laboring under
nightmare.
These experiences with the spirits of the living are cer-
tainly amongst the most curious I have obtained. On more
40 THERE IS NO DEATH.
than one occasion, when I have been unable to extract the
truth of a matter from my acquaintances I have sat down
alone, as soon as I believed them to be asleep, and sum-
moned their spirits to the table and compelled them to
speak out. Little have they imagined sometimes how I
came to know things which they had scrupulously tried to
hide from me. I have heard that the power to summons
the spirits of the living is not given to all media, but I
have always possessed it. I can do so when they are awake
as well as when they are asleep, though it is not so easy.
A gentleman once dared me to do this with him, and I
only conceal his name because I made him look ridiculous.
I waited till I knew he was engaged at a dinner-party, and
then about nine o'clock in the evening I sat down and
summoned him to come to me. It was some little time
before he obeyed, and when he did come, he was emin-
ently sulky. I got a piece of paper and pencil, and from
his dictation I wrote down the number and names of the
guests at the dinner-table, also the dishes of which he had
partaken, and then in pity for his earnest entreaties I let
him go again. " You are making me ridiculous," he said,
"everyone is laughing at me."
" But why ? What are you doing ? " I urged.
" I am standing by the mantel-piece, and I have fallen
fast asleep," he answered. The next morning he came
pell-mell into my presence,
" What did you do to me last night ? " he demanded.
" I was at the Watts Philips, and after dinner I went fast
asleep with my head upon my hand, standing by the
mantel-piece, and they were all trying to wake me and
couldn't. Have you been playing any of your tricks upon
me?"
" I only made you do what you declared I couldn't," I
replied. " How did you like the white soup and the tur-
bot, and the sweetbreads, etc., etc."
He opened his eyes at my nefariously obtained know-
ledge, and still more when I produced the paper written
from his dictation. This is not a usual custom of mine —
it would not be interesting enough to pursue as a custom —
but I am a dangerous person to dare to do anything.
The old friend whose spirit visited me through Mrs.
Fitzgerald had lost a sister to whom he was very tenderly
attached before he made my acquaintance, and I knew little
THERE IS NO DEATH. 41
of her beyond her name. One evening, not many months
after the interview with him which I have recorded, a spirit
came to me, giving the name of my friend's sister, with this
message, " My brother has returned to England, and
would like to know your address. Write to him to the
Club, Leamington, and tell him where to find you." I
replied, " Your brother has not written tome, nor inquired
after me for the last eleven years. He has lost all interest
in me, and I cannot be the first to write to him, unless I
am sure that he wishes it."
" He has not lost all interest in you," said the spirit ;
" he thinks of you constantly, and I hear him pray for you.
He wishes to liear from you."
" That may be true," I replied, " but I cannot accept it
on your authority. If your brother really wishes to renew
our acquaintance, let him write and tell me so."
" He does not "know your address, and I cannot get near
enough to him to influence him."
" Then things must remain as they are," I replied some-
what testily. " I am a public person. He can find out my
address, if he chooses to do so."
The spirit seemed to reflect for a moment ; then she
rapped out, " Wait, and I will fetch my brother. He shall
come here himself and tell you what he thinks about it."
In a short time there was a different movement of the table,
and the name of my old friend was given. After we had
exchanged a few words, and I had told him I required a
test of his identity, he asked me to get a pencil and paper,
and write from his dictation. I did as he requested, and he
dictated the following sentence, " Long time, indeed, has
passed since the days you call to mind, but time, however
long, does not efface the past. It has never made me cease
to think of and pray for you as I felt you, too, did think of
and pray for me. Write to the address my sister gave you.
I want to hear from you."
Notwithstanding the perspicuity and apparent genuine-
ness of this message, it was some time before I could make
up my mind to follow the directions it gave me. My pride
stood in the way to prevent it. Ten days afterwards, how-
ever, having received several more visits from the sister, I
did as she desired me, and sent a note to her brother to
the Leamington Club. The answer came by return of
post, and contained (amongst others) the identical words
42 THERE IS NO DEATH.
he had told me to write down. Will Mr. Stuart Cumber-
land, or any other clever man, explain to me what or who
it was that had visited me ten days beforehand, and dic-
tated words which could hardly have been in my corres-
pondent's brain before he received my letter? I am ready
to accept any reasonable explanation of the matter from
the scientists, philosophers, chemists, or arguists of the
world, and I am open to conviction, when my sense con-
vinces me, that their reasoning is true. But my present
belief is, that not a single man or woman will be found able
to account on any ordinary grounds for such an extraor-
dinary instance of " unconscious cerebration."
Being subject to "optical illusions," I naturally had
several with regard to my spirit child, " Florence," and she
always came to me clothed in a white dress. One night,
however, when I was living alone in the Regent's Park, I
saw " Florence " (as I imagined) standing in the centre of
the room, dressed in a green riding habit slashed wiih
orange color, with a cavalier hat of grey felt on her head,
ornamented with a long green feather and a gold buckle.
She stood with her back to me, but I could see her profile
as she looked over her shoulder, with the skirt of her habit
in her hand. This being a most extraordinary attire in
which to see " Florence," I feJt curious on the subject, and
the next day I questioned her about it.
" Florence ! '" I said, " why did you come to me last night
in a green riding habit ? "
" I did not come to you last night, mother 1 It was my
sister P^va."
" Good heavens ! " I exclaimed, " is anything wrong
with her ? "
" No 1 she is quite well."
" How could she come to me then ? "
"She did not come in reality, but her thoughts were
much with you, and so you saw her spirit clairvoyantly.''
My daughter Eva, who was on the stage, was at that
time fulfilling a stock engagement in Glasgow, and very
much employed. I had not heard from her for a fortnight,
which was a most unusual occurrence, and I had begun to
feel uneasy. This vision made me more so, and I wrote at
once to ask her if all was as it should be. Her answer
was to this effect : " I am so sorry I have had no time to
write to you this week, but I have been so awfully busy.
THERE IS NO DEATH. 43
We play ' The Colleen Bawn ' here next week, and I have
had to get my dress ready for ' Anne Chute.' It's so effect-
ive. I wish you could see it. A green habil slashed with
orange, and a grey felt hat with a long green feather and
a big gold buckle. I tried it on the other night, and it looked
so nice, etc., etc."
Well, my darling girl had had her wish, and I had seen
it.
44 THERE IS NO DEATH.
CHAPTER V.
OPTICAL ILLUSIONS.
As I have alluded to what my family termed my " optical
illusions," I think it as well to describe a few of them, which
appeared by the context to be something more than a mere
temporary disturbance of my visual organs. I will pass
over such as might be traced, truly or otherwise, to physi-
cal causes, and confine myself to those which were subse-
quently proved to be the reflection of sometliing that,
unknown to me, had gone before. In 1875 I was much
engaged in giving dramatic readings in different parts of
the country, and I visited Dublin for the first time in my
life, for that purpose, and put up at the largest and best-
frequented hotel there. Through the hospitality of the
residents and the duties of my professional business, I was
engaged botli day and night, and when I did get to bed,
I had every disposition to sleep, as the saying is, like a
" top." But there was something in the hotel that would
not let me do so. I had a charming bedroom, cheerful,
briglit and pretty, and replete with every comfort, and I
would retire to rest "dead beat," and fall off to sleep at
once, to be waked perhaps half-a-dozen times a night by
that inexplicable something (or nothing) that rouses me
whenever I am about to enjoy an " optical illusion," and to
see figures, sometimes one, sometimes two or three, some-
times a whole group standing by my bedside and gazing
at me with looks of the greatest astonishment, as much as
to ask what right I had to be there. But the most remark-
able part of the matter to me was, that all the figures were
those of men, and military men, to whom I was too well
accustomed to be able to mistake. Some were officers and
others soldiers, some were in uniform, others in undress,
but they all belonged to the army, and they all seemed to
labor under tlie same feeling of intense surprise at seeing
me in the hotel. These apparitions were so life-like and
appeared so frequently, that I grew quite uncomfortable
THERE IS NO DEATH. 45
about them, for however much one may be used to see
''optical illusions," it is not pleasant to fancy there are
about twenty strangers gazing at one every night as one
lies asleep. Spiritualism is, or was, a tabooed subject in
Dublin, and I had been expressly cautioned not to mention
it before my new acquaintances. However, I could not
keep entire silence on this subject, and dining en famille
one day, with a hospitable family of the name of Robinson,
I related to them my nightly experiences at the hotel.
Father, mother, and son exclaimed simultaneously. " Good
gracious," they said, '' don't you know that that hotel was
built on the site of the old barracks ? The house imme-
diately behind it, which formed part of the old building, was
vacated by its last tenants on account of its being haunted.
Every evening at the hour the soldiers used to be marched
up to bed, they heard the tramp, tramp, tramp of the feet
ascending the staircase."
"That may be," I replied, "but they kneni their house
stood on the site of the barracks, and I didnt."
My eldest daughter was spending a holiday with me
once after my second marriage, and during the month of
August. She had been very much overworked, and I made
her lie in bed till noon. One morning I had been to her
room at that hour to wake her, and on turning to leave it
(in the broad daylight, remember), I encountered a man on
the landing outside her door. He was dressed in a white
shirl with black studs down the front, and a pair of black
cloth trousers. He had dark hair and eyes, and small
features ; altogether, he struck me as having rather a sinis-
ter and unpleasant appearance. I stood still, with the open
door in my hand, and gazed at him. He looked at me
also for a minute, and then turned and walked upstairs to
an upper storey where the nursery was situated, beckoning
me, with a jerk of his hand, to follow him. My daughter
(remarking a peculiar expression in my eyes, which I am
told they assume on such occasions) said, " Mother ! what
do you see ? "
" Only a spirit," I answered, " and he has gone upstairs."
" Now, what is the good of seeing them in that way,"
said Eva, rather impatiently (for this dear child always
disliked and avoided Spiritualism), and I was fain to con-
fess that I really did not know the especial good of
encountering a sinister-looking gentleman in shirt and
46 THERE IS NO DEATH.
trousers, on a blazing noon in August. After which the
circumstance passed from my mind, until recalled again.
A itw months later I had occasion to change the child-
ren's nurse, and the woman who took her place was an
Icelandic girl named Margaret Thommassen, wjio had only-
been in England for three weeks. I found that she had
been educated far above the average run of domestic ser-
vants, and was well acquainted with the writings of Sweden-
borg and other autliors. One day as I walked up the
nursery stairs to visit the children in bed, I encountered
the same man I had seen outside my daughter's room,
standing on the upper landing, as though waiting my
approach. He was dressed as before, but this time his
arms were folded across his breast and his face downcast,
as though he were unhappy about something. He disap-
peared as I reached the landing, and I mentioned the
circumstance to no one. A Itw days later, Margaret
Thommassen asked me timidly if I believed in the possi-
bility of the spirits of the departed returning to this earth.
When I replied that I did, she appeared overjoyed, and
said she had never hoped to find anyone in England to
whom she could speak about it. She then gave me a mass
of evidence on the subject which forms a large part of the
religion of the Icelanders. She told me that she felt uneasy
about her eldest brother, to whom she was strongly
attached. He had left Iceland a year before to become a
waiter in Germany, and had promised faithfully that so long
as he lived she should hear from him every month, and
when he failed to write she must conclude he was dead.
Margaret told me she had heard nothing from him now
for three months, and each night when the nursery light
was put out, someome came and sat at the foot of her bed
and sighed. She then produced his photograph, and to
my astonishment I recognized at once the man who had
appeared to me some months before I knew that such a
woman as Margaret Thommassen existed. He was taken
in a shirt and trousers, just as I had seen him, and wore
the same repulsive (to me) and sinister expression. I then
told his sister that I had already seen him twice in that
house, and she grew very excited and anxious to learn the
truth. In consequence I sat with her in hopes of obtain-
ing some news of her brother, who immediately came to
the table, and told her that he was dead, with the circum-
THERE IS NO DEATH. 47
Stances under which he had died, and the address where
she was to write, to obtain particulars. And on Margaret
Thommassen writing as she was directed, she obtained the
practical proofs of her brother's death, without which this
story would be worthless.
My sister Cecil lives with lier family in Somerset, and
many years ago I went down there to visit her for the first
time since she had moved into a new house which I had
never seen before. She put me to sleep in the guest
chamber, a large, handsome room, just newly furnished by
Oetzmann. But I could not sleep in it. The very first
night some one walked ;ip and down the room, groaning
and sighing close to my ears, and he, she, or it especially
annoyed me by continually touching the new stiff counter-
pane with a " scrooping " sound that set my teeth on edge,
and sent my heart up into my mouth. I kep't on saying,
" Go away ! Don't come near me ! " for its proximity in-
spired me with a horror and repugnance which I have sel-
dom felt under similar circumstances. I did not say any-
thing at first to my sister, who is rather nervous on the
subject of " bogies," but on the third night I could stand
it no longer, and told her plainly the room was haunted,
and I wished she would put me in her dressing-room, or
with her servants, sooner than let me remain there, as I
could get no rest. Then the truth came out, and she con-
fessed that the last owner of the house had committed sui-
'cide in that very room, and showed me the place on the
boards, underneath the carpet, where the stain of his bood
still remained. A lively sort of room to sleep all alone in.
Another sister of mine, Blanche, used to live in a haunted
house in Bruges, of which a description will be found in
the chapter headed, '' The Story of the Monk." Long, how-
ever, before the monk was heard of, I could not sleep in
her house on account of the disturbances in my room, for
which my sister used to laugh at me. But even when my
husband, Colonel Lean, and I stayed there together, it was
much the same. One night I waked him to see the figure
of a woman, who had often visited me, standing at the foot
of the bed. She was quaintly attired in a sort of leathern
boddice or jerkin, laced up the front over a woollen petticoat
of some dark color. She wore a cap of Mechlin lace, with
the large flaps at the side, adopted by Flemish women to
this day ; her hair was combed tightly off her forehead, and
she wore a profusion of gold ornaments.
48 THERE IS NO DEATH.
My husband could describe her as vividly as I did, which
proves how plainly the apparition must have shown itself.
I waked on several occasions to see this woman busy
(apparently) with the contents of an old carved oak armoir
which stood in a corner of the room, and which, I suppose,
must have had something to do with herself. My eldest
son joined me at Bruges on this occasion. He was a young
fellow of twenty, who had never practised, nor even enquired
into Spiritualism — fresh from sea, and about as free from
fear or superstitious fancies as a mortal could be. He was
put to sleep in a room on the other side of the house, and
I saw from the first that he was grave about it, but I did
not ask him the reason, though I felt sure, from personal
experience, that he would hear or see something before
long. In a few days he came to me and said —
" Mother 1 I'm going to take my mattress into the co-
lonel's dressing-room to-night and sleep there." I asked
him why. He replied, " It's impossible to stay in that
room any longer. I wouldn't mind if they'd let me sleep,
but they won't. There's something walks about half the
night, whispering and muttering, and touching the bed-
clothes, and though I don't believe in any of your rubbishy
spirits, I'll be ' jiggered ' if I sleep there any longer." So
he was not " jiggered " (whatever that may be), as he
refused to enter the room again.
I cannot end this chapter more appropriately than by
relating a very remarkable case of " optical illusion " which
was seen by myself alone. It was in the month of July,
1880, and I had gone down alone to Brighton for a week's
quiet. I had some important literary work to finish, and
the exigencies of the London season made too many de-
mands upon my time. So I packed up my writing materials,
and took a lodging all to myself, and set hard to work, I
used to write all day and walk in the evening. It was light
then till eight or nine o'clock, and jlhe Esplanade used to
be crowded till a late hour. I was pushing my way, on the
evening of the 9th of July, through the crowd, thinking of
my work more than anything else, when I saw, as I fully
thought, my step-son, Francis Lean, leaning with his back
against the palings at the edge of the cliff and smiling at
me. He was a handsome lad of eighteen who was supposed
to have sailed in his ship for the Brazils five months before.
But he had been a wild young fellow, causing his father
THERE IS NO DEATH. 49
much trouble and anxiety, and my first impression was one
of great annoyance, thinking naturally that, since I saw
him there, he had never sailed at all, but run away from his
ship at the last moment. I hastened up to him, therefore,
but as I reached his side, he turned round quite method-
ically, and walked quickly down a flight of steps that led
to the beach. I followed him, and found myself amongst a
group of ordinary seamen mending their nets, but I could
see Francis nowhere. I did not know what to make of the
occurrence, but it never struck me that it was not either the
lad himself or some one remarkably like him. The same
night, however, after I had retired to bed in a room that
was unpleasantly briliant with the moonlight streaming in
at the window, I was roused from my sleep by someone
turning the handle of my door, and there stood Francis in
his naval uniform, with the peaked cap on his head, smiling
at me as he had done upon the cliff. I started up in bed
intending to speak to him, when he laid his finger on his
lips and faded away. This second vision made me think
something must have happened to the boy, but I determined
not to say anything to my husband about it until it was
verified. Shortly after my return to London, we were
going, in company with my own son (also a sailor), to see
his ship which was lying in the docks, when, as we were
driving through Poplar, I again saw my stepson Francis
standing on the pavement, and smiling at me. That time
I spoke. I said to Colonel Lean, " I am sure I saw Francis
standing there. Do you think it is possible he may not
have sailed after all ? " But Colonel Lean laughed at the
idea. He believed it to be a chance likeness I had seen.
Only the lad was too good-looking to have many duplicates
in this world. We visited the seaside after that, and in
September, whilst we were staying at Folkestone, Colonel
Lean received a letter to say that his son Francis had been
drowned by the upsetting of a boat in the surf of the Bay
of Callao, in the Brazils, on the <^th of July — the day I had
seen him twice in Brighton, two months before we heard
that he was gone.
50 THERE IS NO DEATH.
CHAPTER VI.
ON SCEPTICISM,
There are two classes of people who have done more harm
to the cause of Spiritualism than the testimony of all the
scientists has done good, and those are the enthusiasts
and the sceptics. The first believe everything they see or
hear. Without giving themselves the trouble to obtain
proofs of the genuineness of the manifestations, they rush
impetuously from one acquaintance to the other, detailing
their experience with so much exaggeration and such un-
bounded faith, that they make the absurdity of it patent
to all. They are generally people of low intellect, credu-
lous dispositions, and weak nerves. They bow down
before the influences as if they were so many little gods
descended from heaven, instead of being, as in the majority
of instances, spirits a shade less holy than our own, who,
for their very shortcomings, are unable to rise above the
atmosphere that surrounds this gross and material world.
These are the sort of spiritualists whom Punch and other
comic papers have very justly ridiculed. Who does not
remember the picture of the afflicted widow, for whom the
medium has just called up the departed Jones ?
" Jones," she falters, " are you happy ? "
" Much happier than I was down here," growls Jones.
" O ! then you viust be in heaven ! "
" On the contrary, quite the reverse," is the reply.
Who also has not sat a seance where such people have
not made themselves so ridiculous as to bring the cause
they profess to adore into contempt and ignominy. Yet
to allow the words and deeds of fools to affect one's inward
and private conviction of a matter would be tantamount to
giving up the pursuit of everything in which one's fellow
creatures can take a part.
The second class to which I alluded — the sceptics — have
not done so much injury to Spiritualism as the enthusiasts,
because they are as a rule, so intensely bigoted and hard-
THERE IS NO DEATH. 5 1
headed, and narrow-minded, that they overdo their protes-
tations, and render them harmless. The sceptic refuses to
believe anything, because he has found out one thing to
be a fraud. If one medium deceives, all the mediums
must deceive. If one seance is a failure, none can be
successful. If he gains no satisfactory test of the presence
of the spirits of the departed, no one has ever gained such
a test. Now, such reason is neither just nor logical.
Again, a sceptic fully expects his testimony to be accepted
and believed, yet he will never believe any truth on the
testimony of another person. And if he is told that,
given certain conditions, he can see this or hear the other,
he says, " No ! I will see it and hear it without any con-
ditions, or else I will proclaim it all a fraud." In like
manner, we might say to a savage, on showing him a
watch, " If you will keep your eye on those hands, you
will see them move round to tell the hours and minutes,"
and he should reply, " I must put the watch into boiling
water — those are my conditions — and if it won't go then,
I will not believe it can go at all."
I don't mind a man being a sceptic in Spiritualism. I
don't see how he can help (considering the belief in which
we are reared) being a sceptic, until he has proved so
strange a matter for himself. But I do object to a man or a
woman taking part in a stance with the sole intention of
detecting deceit, not ivhe7i it has happened, but before it
has happened — of bringing an argumentative, disputa-
tious mind, full of the idea that it is going to be tricked
and humbugged into (perhaps) a private circle who are
sitting (like Rosa Dartle) " simply for informatioil," and
scattering all the harmony and good-will about him broad-
cast. He couldn't do it to a human assembly without
breaking up the party. Why should he expect to be more
kindly welcomed by a spiritual one ? I have seen an
immense deal of courtesy shown under such circumstances
to men whom I should have liked to see kicked downstairs.
I have seen them enter a lady's private drawing-room, by
invitation, to witness manifestations which were never,
under any circumstances, made a means of gain, and have
heard them argue, and doubt, and contradict, until they
have given their hostess and her friends the He to their
faces. And the world in general would be quite ready to
side with these (so-called) gentlemen, not because their
52 THERE IS NO DEATH.
word or their wisdom was better worth than that of their
fellow guests, but because they protested against the truth
of a thing which it had made up its mind to be impossible.
I don't mind a sceptic myself, as I said before, but he must
be unbiassed, which few sceptics are. As a rule, they
have decided the question at issue for themselves before
they commence to investigate it.
I find that few people outside the pale of Spiritualism
have heard of the Dialectical Society, which was a scientific
society assembled a few years ago for the sole purpose of
enquiring into the truth of the matter. It was composed
of forty members, — ten lawyers, ten scientists, ten clergy-
men, and ten chemists (I think that was the arrangement),
and they held forty seances., and the published report at
the close of them was, that not one of these men of learn-
ing and repute could find any natural cause for the wonders
he had witnessed. I know that there are a thousand
obstacles in the way of belief. The extraordinarily contra-
dictory manner in which Protestants are brought up, to
believe in one and the same breath that spirits were
common visitants to earth at the periods of which the
Bible treats, but that it is impossible they can return to it
now, although the Lord is the same yesterday, to-day, and
for ever. The conditions of darkness for the creation of
materialized spirits, and the resemblance they sometimes
bear to the medium, are two fearful stumbling-blocks. Yet
one must know that all things are created in the dark, and
that even a seed cannot sprout if you let the light in upon
it, while as for the resemblance between the spirit and the
medium, from whom it takes the material being that enables
it to appear, if investigators would only persevere with their
enquiries, they would find, as I have, that that is a dis-
appointment which has its remedy in Time. Vv^hen people
call on me to explain such things, I can only say that I
know no more how they come than they do, or that I know
how / came, a living, sentient creature, into the world.
Besides (as I have said before), I write these pages to tell
only what I have seen, and not to argue how it came to
pass that I saw it.
I have a little story to tell here which powerfully illus-
trates the foregoing remarks. The lines,
" A woman convinced against her will
Is of the same opinion still,"
THERE IS NO DEATH. 53
might have been penned with as much truth of sceptics.
Men who are sceptical, i.e., so thoroughly wrapt up in con-
ceit of their powers of judgment and determination that it
becomes impossible for them to believe themselves mis-
taken, will deny the evidence of all their senses sooner
than confess they may be in the wrong. Such an one may
be a clever scientist or a shrewd man of business, but he
can never be a genius. For genius is invariably humble
of its own powers, and, therefore, open to conviction.
But the lesser minds, who are only equal to grasping such
details as may have been drummed into them by sheer
force of study, appear to have no capability of stretching
beyond a certain limit. They are hedged in and cramped
by the opinions in which they have been reared, or that
they have built up for themselves out of the petty material
their brain affords them, and have lost their powers of
elasticity. " Thus far shalt thou go and no further," seems
to be the fiat pronounced on too many men's reasoning
faculties. Instead of believing the power of God and the
resources of nature to be illimitable, they want to keep
them within the little circle that encompasses their own
brains. •' I can't see it, and therefore it cannot be." There
was a time when I used to take the trouble to try and con-
vince such men, but I have long ceased to do so. It is
quite indifferent to me what they believe or don't believe.
And with such minds, even if they were convinced of its
possibility, they would probably make no good use of
spiritual intercourse. For there is no doubt it can be
turned to evil uses as well as to good.
Some years ago I was on friendly terms with a man of
this sort. He was a doctor, accounted clever in his pro-
fession, and I knew him to be an able arguist, and thought
he had common sense enough not to eat his own words,
but the sequel proved that I was mistaken. We had
several conversations together on Spiritualism, and as Dr.
H was a complete disbeliever in the existence of a
God and a future life, I was naturally not surprised to
find that he did not place any credence in the account
I gave him of my spiritualistic experiences. Many
medical men attribute such experiences entirely to a
diseased condition of mind or body.
But when I asked Dr.H what he should think if he
saw them with his own eyes, I confess I was startled to
54 THERE IS NO DEATH.
hear him answer that he should say his eyes deceived him.
" But if you heard them speak ? " I continued.
" I should disbelieve my ears."
" And if you touched and handled them ? "
" I should mistrust my sense of feeling."
"Then by what means," I argued, " do you know that
I am Florence Marryat? You can only see me and hear
me and touch me ! What is there to prevent your senses
misleading you at the present moment? "
But to this argument Dr. H only returned a pitying
smile, professing to think me, on this point at least, too
feeble-minded to be worthy of reply, but in reality not
knowing what on earth to say. He often, however, recurred
to the subject of Spiritualism, and on several occasions
told me that if I could procure him the opportunity of sub-
mitting a test which he might himself suggest, he should be
very much obliged to me. It was about this time that a
young medium named William Haxby, now passed away,
went to live with Mr. and Mrs. Olive in Ainger Terrace,
and we were invited to attend a seance given by him. Mrs.
Olive, when giving the invitation, informed me that Mr.
Haxby had been very successful in procuring direct writing
in scaled boxes, and she asked me, if I wished to try the
experiment, to take a secured box, with writing materials
in it, to the seance, and see what would happen to it.
Here was, I thought, an excellent opportunity for Dr.
H 's test, and I sent for him and told him what had
been proposed. I urged him to prepare the test entirely
by himself, and to accompany me to the seance and see
what occurred, — to all of which he readily consented. In-
deed, he became quite excited on the subject, being certain
it would prove a failure ; and in my presence he made the
following preparations : —
I. Half a sheet of ordinary cream-laid note-paper and
half a cedar-wood black lead pencil were placed in a
jeweller's cardwood box.
II. The lid of the box was carefully glued down all round
to the bottom part.
III. Tiie box was wrapt in white writing paper, which
was gummed over it.
IV. It was tied eight times with a peculiar kind of silk
made for tying up arteries, and the eight knots were knots
known to (as Dr. H informed me) medical men only.
THERE IS NO DEATH. 55
V. Each of the eight knots was sealed with sealing-wax,
and impressed with Dr, H 's crest seal, which he always
wore on his watch-chain.
VI. The packet was again folded in brown paper, and
sealed and tied to preserve the inside from injury.
When Dr. H had finished it, he said to me, " If the
spirits (or anybody) can write on that paper witliout cut-
ting the silk, 1 will believe whatever you wish." I asked,
" Are you quite sure that the packet could not be undone
without your detecting it?" His answer was — "That
silk is not to be procured except from a medical man ; it
is manufactured expressly for the tying of arteries ; and the
knots I have made are known only to medical men. They
are the knots we use in tying arteries. The seal is my own
crest, which never leaves my watch-chain, and I defy any-
one to undo those knots without cutting them, or to tie
them again, if cut. I repeat — if your friends can make, or
cause to be made, the smallest mark on that paper, and
return me the box in the condition it now is, I will believe
anything you choose." And I confess I was very dubious
of the result myself, and almost sorry that I had subjected
the doctor's incredulity to so severe a test.
On the evening appointed we attended the seance, Dr.
H taking the prepared packet with him. He Avas
directed to place it under his chair, but he tied a string to
it and put it under his foot, retaining the other end of the
string in his hand. The meeting was not one for favorably
impressing an unbeliever in Spiritualism. There were too
many people present, and too many strangers. The or-
dinary manifestations, to my mind, are worse than useless,
unless they have been preceded by extraordinary ones ; so
that the doctor returned home more sceptical than before,
and I repented that I had taken him there. One thing had
occurred, however, that he could not account for. The
packet which he had kept, as he thought, under his foot
the whole time, was found, at the close of the meeting, to
have disappeared. Another gentleman had brought a
sealed box, with paper and pencil in it, to the seance; and
at the close it was opened in the presence of all assembled,
and found to contain a closely written letter from his
deceased wife. But the doctor's box had evaporated, and
was nowhere to be found. The door of the room had
been locked all the time, and we searched the room
56 THERE IS NO DEATH.
thoroughly, but without success. Dr. H was naturally
triumphant.
" They couldn't undo my knots and my seals," he said,
exulting over me, " and so they wisely did not return the
packet. Both packets were of course taken from the room
during the sitting by some confederate of the medium. The
other one was easily managed, and put back again — mine
proved unmanageable, and so they have retained it. I
knew it would be so ! " '
And he twinkled his eyes at me as much as to say, " I
have %\\\!i'iyou up. You will not venture to describe any of
the marvels you have seen to me after this." Of course
the failure did not discompose me, nor shake my belief. I
never believed spiritual beings to be omnipotent, omni-
present, nor omniscient. They had failed before, and
doubtless they would fail again. But if an acrobatic per-
former fails to turn a double somersault on to another man's
head two or three times, it does not falsify the fact that he
succeeds on the fourth occasion. I was sorry that the test
had been a failure, for Dr. H 's sake, but I did not
despair of seeing the box again. And at the end of a
fortnight it was left at my house by ]\Ir. Olive, with a note
to say that it had been found that morning on the mantel-
piece in Mr. Haxby's bedroom, and he lost no time in
returning it to me. It was wrapt in the brown paper, tied
and sealed, apparently just as we had carried it to the
stance in Ainger Terrace; and I wrote at once to Dr.
H announcing its return, and asking him to come over
and open it in my presence. He came, took the packet in
his hand, and having stripped off tlie outer wrapper,
examined it carefully. There were four tests, it may be
remembered, applied to the packet.
I. The arterial silk, procurable only from a medical
man.
II. The knots to be tied only by medical men.
III. Dr. H 's own crest, always kept on his watch
chain, as a seal.
IV. The hd of the cardboard box, glued all round to the
bottom part.
As the doctor scrutinized the silk, the knots, and the
seals, I watched him narrowly.
*' Are you quite sure,'^ I asked, '' that it is the same
paper in which you wrapt it ? "
THERE IS NO DEATH. 57
" I am quite sure."
"■ And the same silk ? "
" Quite sure."
" Your knots have not been untied ? "
" I am positive that they have not."
" Nor your seal been tampered with ? "
" Certainly not ! It is just as I sealed it."
" Be careful, Dr. H ," I continued. " Remember I
shall write down all you say."
"I am willing to swear to it in a court of justice," he
replied.
" Then will you open the packet ? "
Dr. H took the scissors and cut the silk at each seal
and knot, then tore off the gummed white writing j^aper
(which was as fresh as when he had put it on), and tried
to pull open the card-board box. But as he could not do
this in consequence of the lid being glued down, he took
out his penknife and cut it all round. As he did so, he
looked at me and said, " Mark my words. There will be
nothing written on the paper. It is impossible ! "
He lifted the lid, and behold the box was empty ! The
half sheet of notepaper and the half cedar wood pencil had
both entirely disappeared. Not a crumb of lead, nor a
shred of paper remained behind. I looked at the doctor,
and the doctor looked completely bewildered.
" Well !''' I said, interrogatively.
He shifted about — grew red — and began to bluster.
" What do you make of it? " I asked. " How do you
account for it ? "
'^ In the easiest way in the world," he replied, trying to
brave it out. " It's the most transparent deception I ever
saw. They've kept the thing a fortnight and had time to
do anything with it. A child could see through this.
Surely your bright wits can want no help to an explana-
tion."
" I am not so bright as you give me credit for," I
answered. " Will you explain your meaning to me ? "
"With pleasure. They have evidently made an invisible
slit in the joining of the box cover, and with a pair of fine
forceps drawn the paper through it, bit by bit. For the
pencil, they drew that by the same means to the slit and
then pared it, little by little, with a lancet, till they could
shake out the fragments."
58 THERE IS NO DEATH.
" That must have required very careful manipulation," I
observed.
" Naturally. But tliey've taken a fortniglit to do it
in."
" But how about the arterial silk ? " I said.
" They must have procured some from a surgeon."
" And your famous knots ? "
" They got some surgeon to tic them ! "
" But your crest and seal ? "
" Oh ! they must have taken a facsimile of that in order
to reproduce it. It is very cleverly done, but quite ex-
plicable ! "
. " But you told me before you opened the packet that
you would take your oath in a court of justice it had not
been tempered with."
" I was evidently deceived."
"And you really believe, then, that an uneducated lad
like Mr. Haxby would take the trouble to take impressions
of seals and to procure arterial silk and the services of a
surgeon, in order, not to mystify or convert jou, but to
gratify ;//<?, whose box he believes it to be."
" I am sure he has done so ! "
" But just now you were equally sure he had not done
so. Why sliould you trust your senses in one case more
than in the other ? And if Mr. Haxby has played a trick
on me, as you suppose, why did you not discover the slit
when you examined the box, before opening ? "
" Because my eyes misled me ! "
" Then after all," I concluded, " the best thing you can
say of yourself is that you — a man of reputed science, skill,
and sense, and with a strong belief in your own powers —
are unable to devise a test in which you shall not be out-
witted by a person so inferior to yourself in age, intellect
and education as young Haxby. But I will give you
another chance. Make up another packet in any way you
like. Apply to it the severest tests which your ingenuity
can devise, or other men of genius can suggest to you, and
let me give it to Haxby and see if the contents can be ex-
tracted, or tampered with a second time."
" It would be useless," said Dr. H . " If they were
extracted through the iron panels of a fireproof safe, I
would not believe it was done by any but natural means."
" Because you do not wis/i to believe," I argued.
THERE IS NO DEATH. 59
** You are right." he confessed, " I do not wish to believe.
If you convinced me of the truth of Spiritualism, you would
upset all the theories I have held for the best part of my
life. I don't believe in a God, nor a soul, nor a future ex-
istence, and I would rather not believe in them. We have
quite enough trouble, in my opinion, in tliis life, without
looking forward to another, and I would rather cling to my
belief that when we die we have done with it once and for
ever."
So there ended my attempt to convince Dr. H , and
I have often thought since that he was but a type of the
genus sceptic. In this world, we mostly believe what we
want to believe, and the thought of a future troubles us in
proportion to the lives we lead here. It must often strike
spiritualists (who mostly look forward to the day of their
departure for another world, as aschoolboylooks forward to
the commencement of the holidays) as a very strange thing,
that people, as a rule, evince so little curiosity on the sub-
ject of Spiritualism. The idea of the spirits of the departed
returning to this world to hold communication with their
friends may be a new and startling one to them, but the
very wonder of it would make one expect to see them
evince a little interest in a matter which concerns us all.
Yet the generality of Carlyle's British millions either pooh-
pooh the notion as too utterly ridiculous for their exalted
minds to entertain, or inform you, with superior wisdom,
that if Spiritualism is true, they cannot see the use of it, and
have no craving for any further knowledge. If these same
people expected to go to Canada or Australia in a few
months' time, how eagerly they would ask questions con-
cerning their future home, and procure the best informa-
tion on what to do, whilst they remained in England, in
order to fit themselves for the journey and the change.
But a journey to the other world — to the many worlds
which perhaps await us — a certain proof that we shall live
again (or rather, that we shall never die but need only
time and patience and well-living here to reunite us to the
dear one gone before) — that is a subject not worthy of our
trying to believe — of not sufficient importance for us to
take the trouble of ascertaining. I piiy from my soul the
men and women who have no dead darling buried in their
liearts whom they knoiu they shall meet in a home of God's
own choosing when this life ends.
6o THERE IS NO DEATH,
The old, cold faiths have melted away beneafch the sun
of Progress. We can no longer be made to believe, like
little children, in a shadowy indefinite Heaven where the
saints sit on damp clouds with harps in their hands for-
ever singing psalms and hymns and heavenly songs. That
sort of existence could be a Heaven to none, and to most
it would be a Hell. We do not accept it now, any more
than we do the other place, with its typical fire and brim-
stone, and pitch-forking devils with horns and tails. But
what has Religion given us instead ? Those whose com-
mon-sense will not permit them to believe in the parson's
Heaven and Hell generally believe (like Dr. H ) in
nothing at all. But Spiritualism, earnestly and faithfully
followed, leaves us in no doubt. Spiritualists know where
they are going to. The spheres are almost as familiar to
them as this earth — it is not too much to say that many
live in them as much as they do here, and often they seem
the more real, as they are the more lasting of the two.
Spiritualists are in no manner of doubt who their eyes will
see when opening on another phase of life. They do not
expect to be carried straight up into Abraham's bosom,
and lie snugly there, whilst revengeful demons are tortur-
ing those who were, perhaps, nearest and dearest to them
down below. They have a better and more substantial
religion than that — a revelation that teaches them that the
works we do in the flesh must bear their fruit in the spirit,
and that no tardy deathbed repentance, no crying out for
mercy because Justice is upon us, like an unruly child howl-
ing as soon as the stick is produced for chastisement —
will avail to wipe off the sins we have indulged in upon
earth. They know their expiation will be a bitter one, yet
not without Hope, and that they will be helped, as well as
help others, in the upward path that leads to ultimate
perfection. The teaching of Spiritualism is such as largely
to increase belief in our Divine Father's love, our Saviour's
pity, and the angels' ministering help. But it does more
than this, more than any religion has done before. It
affords \\\^ proof — the only proof we have ever received,
and our finite natures can accept — of a future existence.
The majority of Christians hope and trust, and say they
believe. It is the Spiritualist only tlmt knoius.
I think that the marvellous indifference displayed by the
crowd to ascertain these truths for themselves must be
THERE IS NO DEATH. 6l
due, in a large number of instances, to the unnatural but
universal fear which is entertained of Death and all things
connected with it. The same people who loudly declaim
again the possibility of seing a " ghost," shudder at the
idea of doing so. The creature whom they have adored
and waited on with tenderest devotion passes away, and
they are afraid to enter the room where his body lies. That
which they clung to and wept over yesterday, they fear to
look at or touch to-day, and the idea that he would return
and speak to them would inspire them with horror. But
why afraid of an impossibility ? Their very fears should
teach them that there is a cause. From numerous notes
made on the subject I have invariably found that those who
have had the opportunity of testing the reality of Spirit-
ualism, and either rejected or denied it, have been selfish,
worldly, and cold-hearted people who neither care, nor are
cared for, by those who have passed on to another sphere.
Plenty of love is sure to bring you plenty of proof. The
mourners, who have lost sight of what is dearest to them,
and would give all they possess for one more look at the
face they loved so much, or one more tone of the voice that
was music to their ears, are only too eager and grateful to
hear of a way by which their longings may be gratified, and
would take any trouble and go to any expense to accom-
plish what they desire.
It is this intense yearning to speak again with those that
have left us, on the part of the bereaved, that has led to
chicanery on the part of media in order to gratify it.
Wherever money is to be made, unfortunately cheating
will step in ; but because some tradesmen will sell you
brass for gold is no reason to vote all jewellers thieves.
The account of the raising of Samuel by the witch of
Endor is an instance that my argument is correct. The
witch was evidently an impostor, for she had no expecta-
tion of seeing Samuel, and was frightened by the appari-
tion she had evoked ; but Spiritualism must be a truth,
because it was Samuel himself who appeared and rebuked
Saul for calling him back to this earth. What becomes,
in the face of this story, of the impassable gulf between
the earthly and spiritual spheres ? That atheists who' be-
lieve in nothing should not believe in Spiritualism is credi-
ble, natural, and consistent. But that Christians should
reject the theory is tantamount to acknowledging that they
62 THERE IS NO DEATH.
found their hopes of salvation upon a lie. There is no way
of getting out of it. If it be impossible that the spirits of
the departed can communicate with men, the Bible must
be simply a collection of fabulous statements ; if it be
wrong to speak with spirits, all the men whose histories
are therein related were sinners, and the Almighty helped
them to sin ; and if all the spirits who have been heard
and seen and touched in modern times are devils sent on
earth to lure us to our destruction, how are we to distin-
guish between them and the Greatest Spirit of all, who
walked with mortal Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden.
" O ! yes ! " I think I hear somebody cry, " but that was
in the Bible ; " as if the Bible were a period or a place.
And did it ever strike you that there is something else
recorded in the Bible ? " And He did not many miracles
there because of their unbelie/y And yet Christ came to
call " not the rigliteous but the sinners to repentance."
Surely, then, the unbelieving required the conviction of
the miracles more tlian those who knew Him to be God.
Yet there He did them not, because of their unbelief, be-
cause their scepticism produced a condition in which
miracles could not be wrought. And yet the nineteenth
century is surprised because a sceptic, whose jarring ele-
ment upsets all union and harmony, is not an acceptable
addition to a spiritual meeting, and that the miracles of
the present — gross and feeble, compared to those of the
past, because worked by grosser material though grosser
agents — ceased to be manifested when his unbelief in-
trudes itself upon them.
THERE IS NO DEATH. 63
CHAPTER VII.
THE STORY OF JOHN POWLES.
On the 4th of April, i860, there died in India a young
officer in the 12th Regiment M.N.L, of the name of John
Powles. He was an intimate friend of my first husband
for several years before his death, and had consequently
become intimate with me ; indeed, on several occasions
he shared our house and lived with us on the terms of a
brother. I was very young at that time and susceptible
to influence of all sorts — extremely nervous, moreover, on
the subject of "ghosts," and yet burning with curiosity
to learn something of the other world — a topic which it is
most difficult to induce anybody to discuss with you.
People will talk of dress, or dinner, or their friend's pri-
vate affairs — of anything, in fact, sooner than Death and
Immortality and the world to come which we must all
inevitably enter. Even parsons — the legalized exponents
of what lies beyond the grave — are no exceptions to the
rule. When the bereaved sufferer goes to them for com-
fort, they shake their heads and " hope "and " trust," and
say *• God's mercy has no limits," but they cannot give
him one reasonable proof to rest upon that Death is but a
name. John Powles, however, though a careless and irre-
ligious man, liked to discuss the Unseen, We talked
continually on the subject, even when he was apparently
in perfect health, and he often ended our conversation by
assuring me that should he die first (and he always pro-
phesied truly that he should not reach the age of thirty)
he would (were such a thing possible) come back to me.
I used to laugh at the absurdity of the idea, and remind
him how many friends had made the same promise to each
other and never fulfilled it. For though I firmly believed
that such things had been, I could not realize that they
would ever happen to me, or that I should survive
the shock if they did. John Powles' death at the last
was very sudden, although the disease he died of was of
64 THERE IS NO DEATIT.
long standing. He had been under the doctor's hands
for a itw days when he took an unexpected turn for tlie
worse, and my liusband and myself, with other friends,
were summoned to his bedside to say good-bye to him.
When I entered the room he said to me, " So you see it
has come at last. Don't forget what I said to you about
it." They were his last intelligible words to me, tliough
for several hours he grasped my dress with his hand to
prevent my leaving him, and became violent and unman-
ageable if I attempted to quit his side. During this time,
in the intervals of his delirium, he kept on entreating me
to sing a certain old ballad, which had always been a great
favorite with him, entitled " Thou art gone from my gaze."
I am sure if I sung t'nat song once during that miserable
day, I must have sung it a dozen times. At last our poor
friend fell into convulsions which recurred with little inter-
mission until his death, which took place the same evening.
His death and the manner of it caused me a great shock.
He had been a true friend to my husband and myself for
years, and we both mourned his loss very sincerely. That,
and other troubles combined, had a serious effect upon my
health, and the doctors advised my immediate return to
England. When an officer dies in India, it is the custom
to sell all his minor effects by auction. Before this took
place, my husband asked me if there was anything belong-
ing to John Powles that I should like to keep in remem-
brance of him. The choice I made was a curious one. He
had possessed a dark green silk necktie, which was a fav-
orite of his, and when it became soiled I offered to turn it
for jiim, when it looked as good as new. Whereupon he
had worn it so long that it was twice as dirly as before, so
I turned it for him the second time, much to the amuse-
ment of the regiment. When I was asked to choose a
keepsake of him, I said, " Give me the green tie," and I
brought it to England with me.
The voyage home was a terrible affair. I was suffering
mentally and physically, to such a degree that I cannot
think of the time without a shudder. John Powles' death,
of course, added to my distress, and during the many
months that occupied a voyage "by long sea," I hoped
and expected that his spirit would appear to me. With
the very strong belief in the possibility of the return to
THERE IS NO DEATFT. 65
earth of the departed — or rather, I should say, wiili my
strong belief in my belief — I lay awake night after night,
thinking to see my lost friend, who had so often promised
to come back to me. I even cried aloud to him to appear
and tell me where he was, or what he was doing, but I
never heard or saw a single thing. There was silence on
every side of me. Ten days only after I landed in England
I was delivered of a daughter, and when I had somewhat
recovered my health and spirits — when I had lost the
physical weakness and nervous excitability, to which most
medical men would have attributed any mysterious sights
or sounds I might have experienced before — then I com-
menced to k7iow and io/eel that John Powles was with me
again. I did not see him, but I felt his presence. I used
to lie awake at night, trembling under the consciousness
that he was sitting at my bedside, and I had no means of
penetrating the silence between us. Often I entreated him
to speak, but when a low, hissing sound came close to my
ear, I would scream with terror and rush from my room.
All my desire to see or communicate with my lost friend
had deserted me. The very idea was a terror. I was
horror-struck to think he had returned, and I would neither
sleep alone nor remain alone. I was advised to try a
livelier place than Winchester (where I then resided), and
a house was taken for me at Sydenham. But there, the
sense of the presence of John Powles was as keen as be-
fore, and so, at intervals, I continued to feel it for the
space of several years — until, indeed, I became an inquirer
into Spiritualism as a science.
I have related in the chapter that contains an account
of my first seance, that the only face I recognized as be-
longing to me was that of my friend John Powles, and
how excited I became on seeing it. It was that recognition
that brought back all my old longing and curiosity to
communicate with the inhabitants of the Unseen World.
As soon as I commenced investigations in my home circle,
John Powles was the very first spirit who spoke to me
through the table, and from that time until the present I
have never ceased to hold communion with him. He is
very shy, however, (as he was, whilst with us) of convers-
ing before strangers, and seldom intimates his presence
except I am alone. At such times, however, he will talk
66 THERE IS NO DEATH.
by the hour of all such topics as interested him during his
earth life.
Soon after it became generally known that I was
attending seances, I was introduced to Miss Showers, the
daughter of General Showers of the Bombay Army. This
young lady, besides being Httle more than a child — I
think she was about sixteen when we met — was not a pro-
fessional medium. The seances to which her friends were
invited to witness the extraordinary manifestations that
took place in her ])resence were strictly private. They
offered therefore an enormous advantage to investigators,
as the occurrences were all above suspicion, whilst Miss
Showers was good enough to allow herself to be tested in
every possible way. I shall have occasion to refer more
particularly to Miss Showers' mediumship further on — at
present, therefore, I will confine myself to those occasions
which afforded proofs of John Powles' presence.
Mrs. and Miss Showers were living in apartments when
I visited them, and there was no means nor opportunity of
deceiving their friends, even had they had any object in
doing so. I must add also, that they knew nothing of my
Indian life nor experiences, which were things of the past
long before I met them. At the first sitting Miss Showers
gave me for " spirit faces," she merely sat on a chair behind
the window curtains, which were pinned together half-way
up, so as to leave a V-shaped opening at the top. The
voice of " Peter " (Miss Showers' principal control) kept
talking to us and the medium from behind the curtains all
the time, and making remarks on the faces as they appeared
at the opening. Presently he said to me, " Mrs. Ross-
Church, here's a fellow says his name is Powles, and he
wants to speak to you, only he doesn't like to show him-
self because he's not a bit like what he used to be." " Tell
him not to mind that," I answered, "I shall know him
under an}'^ circumstances." "Well! if he was anything
like that, he was a beauty," exclaimed Peter ; and pre-
sently a face appeared which I could not, by any stretch
of imagination, decide to resemble in the slightest degree
my old friend. It was hard, stiff and unlifelike. After it
had disappeared, Peter said, " Powles says if you'll come
and sit with Rosie (Miss Showers) often, he'll look quite
like himself by-and-by," and of course I was only too
anxious to accept the invitation.
THERE IS NO DEATH. 67
As I was setting out another evening to sit with Miss
Showers, the thought suddenly occurred to me to put the
green necktie in my pocket. My two daughters accom-
panied me on that occasion, but I said nothing to them
about the necktie. As soon as we had commenced, how-
ever, Peter called out, " Now, Mrs. Ross-Church, hand
over that necktie. Powles is coming." " What necktie ? "
I asked, and he answered, " Why Powles' necktie, of
course, that you've got in your pocket. He wants you to
put it round his neck." The assembled party looked at me
inquisitively as I produced the tie. The face of John
Powles appeared, very different from the time before, as he
had his own features ahd complexion, but his hair and
beard (which were auburn during life) appeared phos-
phoric, as though made of living fire. I mounted on a chair
and tied the necktie round his throat, and asked him if he
would kiss me. He shook his head. Peter called out,
" Give him your hand." I did so, and as he kissed it, his
moustaches burned me. I cannot account for it. I can
only relate the fact. After which he disappeared with
the necktie, which I have never seen since, though we
searched the little room for it thoroughly.
The next thing I have to relate about John Powles is so
startling that I dread the criticism it will evoke ; but if I
had not startling stories to tell, I should not consider them
worth writing down. I left my house in Bayswater one
Sunday evening to dine with Mr. and Mrs. George Neville
in Regent's Park Terrace, to have a j-^f^;/^.? afterwards with
Miss Showers. There was a large company present, and
I was placed next to Miss Showers at table. During din-
ner she told me complainingly that her mother had gone to
Norwood to spend the night, and she (Rosie) was afraid
of sleeping alone, as the spirits worried her so. In a
moment it flashed across me to ask her to return to Bays-
water and sleep with me, for I was most desirous of test-
ing her powers when we were alone together. Miss Showers
accepted my invitation, and we arranged that she should
go home with me. After dinner, the guests sat for a searice,
but to everybody's surprise and disappointment, nothing
occurred. It was one o'clock in the morning when Miss
Showers and I entered a cab to return to Bayswater. We
had hardly started when we were greeted with a loud peal
of laughter close to our ears. " What's the matter, Peter ? "
68 THERE IS NO DEATH,
demanded Miss Showers. " I can't help laiigliing," he
replied, " to think of their faces when no one appeared !
Did 'you suppose I was going to let you waste all your
power with them, when I knew I was going home with you
and Mrs, Ross-Church? I mean to show you what a real
good sea/ice is to-niglit."
When we reached home I let myself in with a latchkey.
The house was full, for I had seven children, four servants,
and a married sister staying with me ; but they were all in
bed and asleep. It was cold weather, and when I took Miss
Showers into my bedroom a fire was burning in the grate.
My sister was occupying a room which opened into mine ;
but I locked her door and my own, and put the keys under
my pillow. Miss Showers and I then undressed and got
into bed. When we had extinguished the gas, we found
the room was, comparatively speaking, light, for I had
stirred the fire into a blaze, and a street lamp just opposite
the window threw bars of light through the Venetian blinds,
right across the ceiling. As soon as Miss Showers had
settled herself in bed, she said, " I wonder what Peter is
going to do," and I replied, " I hope he won't strip off the
bed-clothes." We were lying under four blankets, a
counterpane, and an eider-down duvet, and as I spoke, the
whole mass rose in the air, and fell over the end of the bed,
leaving us quite unprotected. We got up, lit a candle, and
made the bed again, tucking the clothes well in all round,
but the minute we laid down the same thing was repeated.
We were rather cross the second time, and abused Peter
for being so disagreeable, upon which the voice declared
he wouldn't do it any more, but we shouldn't have pro-
voked him to try. I said, " You had much better shew
yourself to us, Peter. That is what I want you to do."
He replied, " Here I am, my dear, close to you ! " I turned
my head, and there stood a dark figure beside the bed,
whilst another could be plainly distinguished walking about
the room. I said, " I can't see your face," and he replied,
*' I'll come nearer to you ! " Upon this the figure rose in
the air until it hung suspended, face downward, over the
bed. In this position it looked like a huge bat with out-
spread wings. It was still indistinct, except as to sub-
stance, but Peter said we had exhausted all the phosphorus
in our bodies by the long evening we had spent, and left
him nothing to light himself up with. After a while he
THERE IS NO DEATH. 69
lowered himself on to the bed, and lay between Miss
Showers and myself on the outside of the duvet. To this
we greatly objected, as he was very heavy and took up a
great deal of room ; but it was some time before he would
go away.
During this manifestation, the other spirit, whom Peter
called the " Pope," kept walking about and touching every-
thing in the room, which was full of ornaments ; and Peter
called out several times, "Take care. Pope ! take care!
Don't break Mrs. Ross-Church's things." The two made
so much noise that they waked my sister in the adjoining
room, and she knocked at the door, asking in an alarmed
voice, " Florence ! whom have you there ? You will wake
the whole house." Wlien I replied, " Never mind, it's only
spirits," she gave one fell shriek and dived under her bed-
clothes. She maintains to this day that she fully believed
the steps and voices to be human. At last the manifesta-
tions became so rapid, as many as eight and ten hands
touching us at once, that I asked Miss Showers if she
would mind my tying hers together. She was very amiable
and consented willingly. I therefore got out of bed again,
and having securely fastened her hands in the sleeves of
the nightdress she wore, I sewed them with needle and
thread to the mattress. Miss Showers then said she felt
sleepy, and with her back to me — a position she was
obliged to maintain on account of her hands being sewn
down — she apparently dropt off to sleep, though I knew
subsequently s'ne was in a trance.
For some time afterwards nothing occurred, the figures
had disappeared, the voices ceased, and I thought the
seaJice was over. Presently, however, I felt a hand laid on
my head and the fingers began to gently stroke and pull
the short curls upon my forehead. I whispered, "Who is
this ? " and the answer came back, " Don't you know me ?
I am Powles ! At last — at last — after a silence of ten years
I see you and speak with you again, face to face." " How
can I tell this is your hand ? " I said. " Peter might be
materializing a hand in order to deceive me." The hand
immediately left my head and the back of it passed over my
mouth, when I felt it was covered with short hair. I then
remembered how hairy John Powles' hands had become
from exposure to the Indian sun whilst shooting, and how
I had nicknamed him " Esau " in consequence. I recol-
70 THERE IS NO DEATH.
lected also that he had dislocated the left wrist with a
cricket ball. " Let me feel your wrist," I said, and my
hand was at once placed on the enlarged bone. " I want
to trace your hand to where it springs from," I next sug-
gested ; and on receiving permission I felt from the fingers
and wrist to the elbow and shoulder, where it terminated in
the middle of Miss Showers' back. Still I was not quite
satisfied, for I used to find it very hard to believe in the
identity of a person I had cared for. I was so terribly
afraid of being deceived. " I want to see your face," I
continued. " I cannot show you my face to-night," the
voice replied, " but you shall feel it; " and the face, with
beard and moustaches, was laid for a moment against my
own. Then the hand was replaced on my hair, and whilst
it kept on pulling and stroking my curls, John Powles'
own voice spoke to me of everything that had occurred of
importance when he and I were friends on earth. Fancy,
two people who were intimately associated for years, meet-
ing alone after a long and painful separation, think of all
the private things they would talk about together, and you
will understand why I cannot write down the conversation
that took place between us that night here. In order to
convince me of his identity, John Powles spoke of all the
troubles I had passed through and was then enduring — he
mentioned scenes, both sad and merry, which we had
witnessed together ; he recalled incidents which had
slipped ray memory, and named places and people known
only to ourselves. Had I been a disbeliever in Spiritualism,
that night must have made a convert of me. Whilst the
voice, in the well-remembered tones of my old friend, was
speaking, and his hand wandered through my hair. Miss
Showers continued to sleep, or to appear to sleep, with her
back towards me, and her hands sewn into her nightdress
sleeves, and the sleeves sewn down to the bed. But had she
been wide awake and with both hands free, she could not
have spoken to me in John Powles' unforgotten voice of
things that had occurred when she was an infant and thou-
sands of miles away. And I affirm that the voice spoke to
me of things that no one but John Powles could possibly
have known. He did not fail to remind me of the promise
he had made, and the many times he had tried to fulfil it
before, and he assured me he should be constantly with
me from that time. It was daylight before the voice ceased
THERE IS XO DEATH. 7I
speaking, and then both Miss Showers and I were so
exhausted, we could hardly raise our heads from the pil-
lows. I must not forget to add tliat when we did open
our eyes again upon this work-a-day world, we found there
was hardly an article in the room that had not changed
places. The pictures were all turned with their faces to the
wall — the crockery from the washstand was piled in the
fender — the ornaments from the mantel-piece were on the
dressing-table— in fact, the whole room was topsy-turvy.
When Mr. William Fletcher gave his first lecture in Eng-
land, in the Steinway Hall, my husband, Colonel Lean, and
I, went to hear him. We had never seen Mr. Fletcher
before, nor any of his family, nor did he know we were
amongst the audience. Our first view of him was when he
stepped upon the platform, and we were seated quite in the
body of the hall, which was full. It was Mr. Fletcher's
custom, after his lecture was concluded, to describe such
visions as were presented to him, and he only asked in
return that if the people and places were recognized, those
who recognized them would be brave enough to say so,
for the sake of the audience and himself. I can understand
that strangers who went there and heard nothing that con-
cerned themselves would be very apt to imagine it was all
humbug, and that those who claimed a knowledge of the
visions were simply confederates of Mr. Fletcher. But
there is nothing more true than that circumstances alter
cases. I entered Steinway Hall as a perfect stranger, and
as a press-writer, quite prepared to expose trickery if I
detected it. And this is what I heard. After Mr. Fletcher
had described several persons and scenes unknown to me,
he took out a handkerchief and began to wipe his face, as
though he were very warm.
" I am no longer in England, now," he said. " The
scene has quite changed, and I am taken over the sea,
thousands of miles away, and I am in a chamber with all
the doors and windows open. Oh ! how hot it is ! I think
I am somewhere in the tropics. O ! I see why I have been
brought here ! It is to see a young man die ! This is a
death chamber. He is lying on a bed. He looks very
pale, and he is very near death, but he has only been ill a
short time. His hair is a kind of golden chestnut color,
and he has blue eyes. He is an Englishman, and I can
see the letter ' P ' above his head. He has not been happy
72 THERE IS NO DEATH.
on earth, and he is quite content to die. He pushes all
the influences that are round his bed away from him. Now
I see a lady come and sit down beside him. He holds her
hand, and appears to ask her to do something, and I hear
a strain of sweet music. It is a song he has heard in
happier limes, and on the breath of it his spirit passes away.
It is to this lady he seems to come now. She is sitting on
my left about half way down the hall. A little girl, with
her hands full of blue flowers, points her out to me. The
little girl holds up the flowers, and I see they are woven
into a resemblance of the letter F. She tells me that is the
initial letter of her mother's name and her own. And I see
this message written.
" * To my dearest friend, for such you ever were to me
from the beginning. I have been with you through all
your time of trial and sorrow, and I am rejoiced to see that
a happier era is beginning for you. I am always near you.
The darkness is fast rolling away, and happiness will suc-
ceed it. Pray for me, and I shall be near you in your
prayers. I pray God to bless you and to bless me, and to
bring us together again in the summer land.'
" And I see the spirit pointing with his hand far away,
as though to intimate that the happiness he speaks of is
only the beginning of some that will extend to a long dis-
tance of time. I see this scene more plainlv than any I
have ever seen before."
These words were written down at the time they were
spoken. Colonel Lean and I were sitting in the very spot
indicated by Mr. Fletcher, and the little girl with the blue
flowers was my spirit child, " Florence," whose history I
shall give in the next chapter. But my communications
with John Powles, though very extraordinary, were not
satisfactory to me. I am the " Thomas, surnamed Didy-
mus," of the spiritualistic world, who wants to see and
touch and handle before I can altogether believe. I
wanted to meet John Powles and talk with him face to
face, and it seemed such an impossibility for him to mate-
rialize in the light that, after his two failures with Miss
Showers, he refused to try. I was always worrying him to
tell me if we should meet in the body before I left this
world, and his answer was always, " Yes ! but not just
yet ! " I had no idea then that I should have to cross the
Atlantic before I saw my dear old friend again.
THERE IS NO DEATH. 73
CHAPTER VIII.
MY SPIRIT CHILD.
The same year that John Powles died, i860, I passed
through the greatest trouble of my hfe. It is quite un-
necessary to my narrative to relate what thai trouble was,
nor how it affected me, but I suffered terribly both in mind
and body, and it was chiefly for this reason that the medi-
cal men advised my return to England, which I reached on
the 14th of December, and on the 30th of the same month
a daughter was born to me, who survivedher birth for only
ten days. The child was born with a most peculiar
blemish, which it is necessary for the purpose of my argu-
ment to describe. On the left side of the upper lip was a
mark as though a semi-circular piece of flesh had been cut
out by a bullet-mould, which exposed part of the gum.
The swallow also had been submerged in the gullet, so that
she had for the short period of her earthly existence to be
fed by artificial means, and the jaw itself had been so
twisted that could she have lived to cut her teeth, the
double ones would have been in front. This blemish was
considered to be of so remarkable a type that Dr. Frede-
rick Butler of Winchester, who attended me, invited several
other medical men, from Southampton and other places, to
examine the infant with him, and they all agreed that a
similar case had never come tctider their notice before. This
is a very important factor in my narrative. I was closely
catechized as to whether I had suffered any physical or
mental shock, that should account for the injury to my
child, and it was decided that the trouble I had experienced
was suflScient to produce it. The case, under feigned names,
was fully reported in the Lancet as something quite out of
the common way. My little child, who was baptized by the
name of '"'Florence," lingered until the loth of January,
186 1, and then passed quietly away, and when my first
natural disappointment was over I ceased to think of her
except as of something which " might have been," but
74 THERE IS NO DEATH.
never would be again. In this world of misery, the loss of
an infant is soon swallowed up in more active trouble.
Still I never quite forgot my poor baby, perhaps because at
tliat time she was Iiappily the " one dead Iamb " of my little
flock. In recounting the events of my first seance with Mrs.
Holmes, I have mentioned how a young girl much muffled
up about the mouth and chin appeared, and intimated that
she came for me, altliough I could not recognize her. I was
so ignorant of the life beyond the grave at that period, that
it never struck me that the baby who had left me at ten
days old had been growing since our separation, until she
had reached the age of ten years. I could not inter])iet
Longfellow (whom I consider one of the sublimest spirit-
ualists of the age) as I can now.
•' Day after day we think what she is doing,
In those bright realms of air :
Year after year, her tender steps pursuing.
Behold her grown more fair.
*' Not as a child shall we again behold her :
For when, with rapture wild,
In our embraces we again enfold her.
She will not be a child ;
But a fair maiden in her father's mansion.
Clothed with celestial grace.
And beautiful with all the soul's expansion.
Shall we behold her face ! '■■
The first seance made such an impression on my mind
that two nights afterwards I again presented luysclf (this
time alone) at Mrs. Holmes' rooms to attend another. It
was a very different circle on the second occasion. There
were about thirty people present, all strangers to each
other, and the manifestations were proportionately ordi-
nary. Another professional medium, a Mrs. Davenport,
was present, as one of her controls, whom she called
" Bell," had promised, if possible, to show her face to her.
As soon, therefore, as the first spirit face appeared (which
was that of the same little girl that I had seen before),
Mrs. Davenport exclaimed, " There's ' Bell,' " " Why ! "
I said, •' that's the little nun we saw on Monday." " O !
no! that's my 'Bell,'" persisted Mrs. Davenport. But
Mrs. Holmes took my side, and was positive the spirit
THERE IS NO DEATH. 75
came for me. She told me she had been trying to com-
municate with her since the previous seance. " I know
she is nearly connected with you," she said. " Have you
never lost a relation of her age? "" " Never /" I replied ;
and at that declaration the little spirit moved away, sor-
rowfully as before.
A few weeks after I received an invitation from Mr.
Henry Dunphy (the gentleman who had introduced me to
Mrs. Holmes) to attend a private seance, given at his own
house in Upper Gloucester Place, by the well-known
medium Florence Cook. The double drawing-rooms were
divided by velvet curtains, behind which Miss Cook was
seated in an arm-chair, the curtains being pinned together
half-way up, leaving a large aperture in the shape of a V.
Being a complete stranger to Miss Cook, I was surprised
to hear the voice of her control direct that / should stand
by the curtains and hold the lower parts together whilst
the forms apjieared above, lest the pins should give way,
and necessarily from my position I could hear every word
that passed between Miss Cook and her guide. The first
face that showed itself was that of a man unknown to me ;
then ensued a kind of frightened colloquy between the
medium and her control. " Take it away. Go away !
I don't like you. Don't touch me — you frighten me ! Go
away ! " I heard Miss Cook exclaim, and then her guide's
voice interposed itself, " Don't be silly, Florrie. Don't
be unkind. It won't hurt you," etc., and immediately
afterwards the same little girl I had seen at Mrs. Holmes'
rose to view at the aperture of the curtains, muffled up as
before, but smiling with her eyes at me. I directed the
attention of the company to her, calHng her again my
"little nun." I was surprised, however, at the evident
distaste Miss Cook had displayed towards the spirit, and
when the seance was concluded and she had regained her
normal condition, I asked her if she could recall the faces
she saw under trance. "Sometimes," she replied. I told
her of the " little nun," and demanded the reason of her
apparent dread of her. " I can hardly tell you," said Miss
Cook ; " I don't know anything about her. She is quite
a stranger to me, but her face is not fully developed, I
think. There is sovicthing wrong about her mouth. She
frightens me."
This remark, though made with the utmost carelej^ness,
set me thinking, and after I had returned home, I Wfote to
76 THERE IS NO DEATH.
Miss Cook, asking her to inquire of her guides who the
little spirit was.
She replied as follows :
" Dear Mrs. Ross-Church, I have asked ' Katie King,'
but she cannot tell me anything further about the spirit
that came through me the other evening than that she is a
young girl closely connected with yourself."
I was not, however, yet convinced of the spirit's iden-
tity, although "John Powles " constantly assured me that
it was my child. I tried hard to communicate with her at
home, but without success. I find in the memoranda I
kept of our private seances at that period several messages
from " Powles " referring to " Florence." In one he says,
" Your child's want of power to communicate with you is
not because she is too pure, but because she is too weak.
She will speak to you some day. She is not in heaven."
This last assertion, knowing so little as I did of a future
state, both puzzled and grieved me. I could not believe
that an innocent infant was not in the Beatific Presence —
yet I could not understand what motive my friend could
have in leading me astray. I had yet to learn that once
received into Heaven no spirit could return to earth, and
that a spirit may have a training to undergo, even though
it has never committed a mortal sin. A further proof,
however, that my dead child had never died was to reach
me from a quarter where I least expected it. I was editor
of the magazine London Society at that time, and amongst
my contributors was Dr. Keningale Cook, who had mar-
ried Mabel Collins, the now well-known writer of spiritual-
istic novels. One day Dr. Cook brought me an invitation
from his wife (whom I had never met) to spend Saturday
to Monday with them in their cottage at Redhill, and I ac-
cepted it, knowing nothing of the procHvities of either of
them, and they knowing as little of my private history as
I did of theirs. And I must take this opportunity to ob-
serve that, at this period, I had never made my lost child
the subject of conversation even with my most intimate
friends. The memory of her life and death, and the trou-
bles that caused it, was not a happy one, and of no interest
to any but myself. So little, therefore, had it been dis-
cussed amongst us that until " Florence " reappeared to
revive the topic, my elder children were ignorant that
their sister had been marked in any way differently from
THERE IS NO DEATH. 77
themselves. It may, therefore, be supposed how unlikely
it was tliat utter strangers and public media should have
gained any inkling of the matter. I went down to Redhill,
and as I was sitting with the Keningale Cooks after dinner,
the subject of Spiritualism came on the tapis, and I was
informed that the wife was a powerful trance medium,
which much interested me, as I had not, at that period,
had any experience of her particular class of mediumship.
In the evening we " sat " together, and Mrs. Cook having
become entranced, her husband took shorthand notes of
her utterances. Several old friends of their family spoke
through her, and I was listening to them in the listless
manner in which we hear the conversation of strangers,
when my attention was aroused by the medium suddenly
leaving her seat, and falling on her knees before me, kiss-
ing my hands and face, and sobbing violently the while.
I waited in expectation of hearing who this might be, when
the manifestations as suddenly ceased, the medium re-
turned to her seat, and the voice of one of her guides said
that the spirit was unable to speak through excess of emo-
tion, but would try again later in the evening. I had almost
forgotten the circumstance in listening to other communi-
cations, when I was startled by hearing the word
^^ Mother I" sighed rather than spoken. I was about to
make some excited reply, when the medium raised her
hand to enjoin silence, and the following communication
was taken down by Mr. Cook as she pronounced the
words. The sentences in parentheses are my replies to
her.
" Mother ! I am ' Florence.' I must be very quiet. I
want to feel I have a mother still. I am so lonely. Why
should I be so ? I cannot speak well. I want to be like
one of you. I want to feel I have a mother and sisters.
I am so far away from you all now."
(" But I always think of you, my dear dead baby.")
" That's just it — your baby. But I'm not a baby now.
I shall get nearer. They tell me I shall. I do not know
if I can come when you are alone. It's all so dark. I
know you are there, but ji? dimly. I've grown all by 7ny-
self. I'm not really unhappy, but I want to get nearer
you. I know you think of me, but you think of me as a
baby. You don't know me as I am. You've seen me,
because in my love I have forced myself upon you. I've
78 THERE IS NO DEATH,
not been amongst the flowers yet, but I shall be, very soon
now; but I want my tnother to take me there. AH has
been given me that can be given me, but I cannot receive
it, except in so far "
Here she seemed unable to express herself.
(" Did the trouble I had before your birth affect your
spirit, Florence? ")
" Only as things cause each other ; I was with you,
mother, all through that trouble. I should be nearer to
you, than any child you have, if I could only get close to
you."
(" I can't bear to hear you speak so sadly, dear. I have
always believed that^y^?/, at least, were happy in Heaven.")
" I am not in Heaven ! But there will come a day,
mother — I can laugh when I say it — when we shall go to
heaven together and pick blue flowers — blue flowers. They
are so good to me here, but if your eye cannot bear the
daylight you cannot see the buttercups and daisies."
I did not learn till afterwards that in the spiritual lan-
guage blue flowers are typical of happiness. The next
question I asked her was if she thought she could write
through me.
" I don't seem able to write through you, but why, I
know not,"
(" Do you know your sisters, Eva and Ethel ? ")
" No I no ! " in a weary voice. " The link of sisterhood
is only through the mother. That kind of sisterhood does
not last, because there is a higher."
(" Do you ever see your father? ")
" No ! he is far, far away. I went once, not more.
Mother, dear, he'll love me when he comes here. They've
told me so, and they always tell truth here ! I am but a
child, yet not so very little. I seem composed of two
things — a child in ignorance and a woman in years. Why
can't I speak at other places ? \ have wished and tried !
I've come very near, but it seems so easy to speak now.
This medium seems so different."
(" I wish you could come to me when I am alone,
Florence.")
" You shall know me ! I will come, mother, dear. I
shall always be able to come here. I do come to you, but
not in the same way."
She spoke in such a plaintive, melancholy voice that Mrs.
Cook, thinking she would depress my spirits, said, " Don't
THERE IS NO DEATH. 79
make your stale out to be sadder than it really is." Her
reply was very remarkable.
" T am, as I am ! Friend ! when you come here, if you
find that sadness is, you will not be able to alter it by
plunging into material pleasures. Our sadness makes the
world we live in. It is not deeds that make us wrong.
It is the state in which ^ue were born. Mother I you say I
died sinless. That is nothing. I was born /// a state.
Had I lived, I should have caused you more pain than you
can know. I am better here. I was not fit to battle with
the world, and they took me from it. Mother ! you won't
let this make you sad. You must not."
(" What can I do to bring you nearer to me ? ")
" I don't know what will bring me nearer, but I'm helped
already by just talking to you. There's a ladder of bright-
ness — every step. I believe I've gained just one step now.
O ! the Divine teachings are so mysterious. Mother! does
it seem strange to you to hear your 'baby ' say things as if
she knew them ? I'm going now. Good-bye 1 "
And so " Florence " went. The next voice that spoke
was that of a guide of the medium, and I asked her for a
personal description of my daughter as she then appeared.
She replied, " Her face is downcast. We have tried to
cheer her, but she is very sad. It is the state in which she
was borfi. Every physical deformity is the mark of a con-
dition. A weak body is not necessarily the mark of a
weak spirit, but the prison of it, because the spirit might
be too passionate otherwise. You cannot judge in what
way the mind is deformed because the body is deformed.
It does not follow that a canker in the body is a canker in
the mind. But the mind may be too exuberant — may need
a canker to restrain it."
I have copied this conversation, word for word, from
the shorthand notes taken at the time of utterance ; and
when it is remembered that neither Mrs. Keningale Cook
nor her husband knew that I had lost a child — that they
had never been in my house nor associated with any of
my friends — it will at least be acknowledged, even by the
most sceptical, that it was a very remarkable coincidence
that I sliould receive such a communication from the lips
of a perfect stranger. Only once after this did " Florence "
communicate with me tlirough the same source. .She found
congenial media nearer home, and naturally availed herself
8o THERE IS NO DEATH.
of them. But the second occasion was ahnost more con-
vincing than the first. I went one afternoon to consult
my soh'citor in the strictest confidence as to how I should
act under some very painful circumstances, and he gave me
his advice. The next morning as I sat at breakfast, Mrs.
Cook, who was still living at Redhill, ran into my room
with an apology for the unceremoniousness of her visit, on
the score that she had received a message for me the night
before which "Florence" had begged her to deliver with-
out delay. The message was to this effect : " Tell my
mother that I was with her this afternoon at the lawyer's,
and she is 7iot to follow the advice given her, as it will do
harm instead of good." Mrs. Cook added, " I don't know
to what ' Florence ' alludes, of course, but I thought it
best, as I was coming to town, to let you know at once."
The force of this anecdote does not lie in the context.
The mystery is contained in the fact of a secret interview
having been overheard and commented upon. But the
truth is, that having greater confidence in the counsel of
my visible guide than in that of ray invisible one, I abided
by the former, and regretted it ever afterwards.
The first conversation I held with " Florence " had a
great effect upon me. I knew before that my uncontrolled
grief had been the cause of the untimely death of her body,
but it had never struck me that her spirit would carry the
effects of it into the unseen world. It was a warning to
me (as it should be to all mothers) not to take the solemn
responsibility of maternity upon themselves without be-
ing prepared to sacrifice their own feelings for the sake of
their children. " Florence " assured me, however, that
communion with myself in my improved condition of
happiness would soon lift her spirit from its state of de-
pression, and consequently I seized every opportunity of
seeing and speaking with her. During the succeeding
twelve months I attended numerous seances with various
media, and my spirit child (as she called herself) never
failed to manifest through the influence of any one of
them, though, of course, in different ways. Through
some she touched me only, and always with an infant's
hand, that I might recognize it as hers, or laid her
mouth against mine that I might feel the scar upon her
lip ; through others she spoke, or wrote, or showed her
face, but I never attended a seance at which she omitted
THERE IS NO DEATH. 8 1
to notify her presence. Once at a dark circle, held with
Mr. Charles Williams, after having had my dress and that
of my next neighbor. Lady Archibald Campbell, pulled
several times as if to attract our attention, the darkness
opened before us, and there stood my child, smiling at us
like a happy dream, her fair hair waving about her temples,
and her blue eyes fixed on me. She was clothed in white,
but we saw no more than her head and bust, about wiiich
her hands held her drapery. Lady Archibald Campbell
saw her as plainly as I did. On another occasion Mr.
William Eglinton proposed to me to try and procure the
spirit-writing on his arm. He directed me to go into
another room and write the name of the friend I loved best
in the spirit world upon a scrap of paper, which I was to
twist up tightly and take back to him. I did so, writing
the name of " John Powles," When I returned to Mr.
Eglinton, he bared his arm, and holding the paper to the
candle till it was reduced to tinder, rubbed his flesh with
the ashes. I knew what was expected to ensue. The
name written on the paper was to reappear in red or white
letters on the medium's arm. The sceptic would say it
was a trick of thought-reading, and that, the medium know-
ing what I had written, had prepared the writing during
my absence. But to his surprise and mine, when at last
he shook the ashes from his arm, we read, written in a
bold, clear hand, the words — " Florence is the dearest," as
though my spirit child had given me a gentle rebuke for
writing any name but her own. It seems curious to me
now to look back and remember how melancholy she used
to be when she first came back to me, for as soon as she
had established an unbroken communication between us,
she developed into the merriest little spirit 1 have ever
known, and though her childhood has now passed away,
and she is more dignified and thoughtful and womanly,
she always appears joyous and happy. She has manifested
largely to me through the mediumship of Mr. Arthur Col-
man. I had known her, during a dark stance with a very
small private circle (the medium being securely held and
fastened the while) run about the room, like the child she
was, and speak to and kiss each sitter in turn, pulling off
the sofa and chair covers and piling them up in the middle
of the table, and changing the ornaments of everyone pre-
sent — placing the gentlemen's neckties round the throats
6
82 THERE IS NO DEATH.
of the ladies, and hanging the ladies' earrings in the but-
tonholes of the gentlemen's coats — just as she might have
done had she been still with us, a happy, petted child, on
earth. I have known her come in the dark and sit on my
lap and kiss my face and hands, and let me feel the defect
in her mouth with my own. One bright evening on the
9th of July — my birthday — Arthur Colman walked in quite
unexpectedly to pay me a visit, and as I had some friends
with me, we agreed to have q. seance. It was impossible to
make the room dark, as the windows were only shaded by
Venetian blinds, but we lowered them, and sat in the twi-
light. The first thing we heard was the voice of " Florence "
whispering — " A present for dear mother's birthday," when
something was put into my hand. Then she crossed to
the side of a lady present and dropped something into her
hand, saying, " And a present for dear mother's friend ! "
I knew at once by the feel of it that what " Florence" had
given me was a chaplet of beads, and knowing how often,
under similar circumstances, articles are merely carried
about a room, I concluded it was one which lay upon my
drawing-room mantel-piece, and said as much. I was
answered by the voice of " Aimee," the medium's nearest
control.
*' You are mistaken," she said, " ' Florence ' has given
you a chaplet you have never seen before. She was ex-
ceedingly anxious to give you a present on your birth-
day, so I gave her the beads which were buried with me.
They came from my coffin. I held them in my hand.
All I ask is, that you will not shew them to Arthur until I
give you leave. He is not well at present, and the sight of
them will upset him."
I was greatly astonished, but, of course, I followed her
instructions, and when I had an opportunity to examine
the beads, I found that they really were strangers to me,
and had not been in the house before. The present my
lady friend had received was a large, unset topaz. The
chaplet was made of carved wood and steel. It was not
till months had elapsed that I was given permission to show
it to Arthur Colman. He immediately recognized it as
the one he had himself placed in the hands of " Aimee " as
she lay in her coffin, and when I saw how the sight affected
him, I regretted I had told him anything about it. I offered
to give the beads up to him, but he refused to receive
them, and they remain in my possession to this day.
THERE IS NO DEATH. 83
But the great climax that was to prove beyond all
question the personal identity of the spirit who communi-
cated with me, with the body I had brought into the world,
was yet to come. Mr. William Harrison, the editor of the
Spiritualist (who, after seventeen years' patient research
into the science of Spiritualism, had never received a per-
sonal proof of the return of his own friends, or relations)
wrote me word that he had received a message from his
lately deceased friend, Mrs. Stewart, to the effect that if he
would sit with the medium, Florence Cook, and one or two
harmonious companions, she would do her best to appear
to him in her earthly likeness and afford him the test he
had so long sought after. Mr. Harrison asked me, there-
fore, if I would join him and Miss Kidlingbury — the secre-
tary to the British National Association of Spiritualists —
in holding a sea?ice with Miss Cook, to which I agreed,
and we met in one of the rooms of the Association for that
purpose. It was a very small room, about 8 feet by 16 feet,
was uncarpeted and contained no furniture, so we carried
in three cane-bottomed chairs for our accommodation.
Across one corner of the room, about four feet from the
floor, we nailed an old black shawl, and placed a cushion
behind it for Miss Cook to lean her head against. Miss
Florence Cook^ who is a brunette, of a small, slight figure,
with dark eyes and hair which she wore in a profusion of
curls, was dressed in a high grey merino, ornamented with
crimson ribbons. She informed me previous to sitting, that
she had become restless during her trances lately, and in
the habit of walking out amongst the circle, and she asked
me as a friend (for such we had by that time become) to
scold her well should such a thing occur, and order her to
go back into the cabinet as if she were " a child or a dog ; "
and I promised her I would do so. After Florence Cook
had sat down on the floor, behind the black shawl (which
left her grey merino skirt exposed), and laid her head
against the cushion, we lowered the gas a little, and took
our seats on the three cane chairs. The medium appeared
very uneasy at first, and we heard her remonstrating with
the influences for using her so roughly. In a few minutes,
however, there was a tremulous movement of the black
shawl, and a large white hand was several times thrust into
view and withdrawn again. I had never seen Mrs. Stewart
(for whom we were expressly sitting) in this life, and could
84 THERE IS NO DEATH.
not, therefore, recognize the hand ; but we all remarked
how large and white it was. In another minute the shawl
was lifted up, and a female figure crawled on its hands and
knees from behind it, and then stood up and regarded us.
It was impossible, in the dim light and at the distance she
stood from us, to identify the features, so Mr. Harrison
asked if she were Mrs. Stewart. The figure shook its head.
I had lost a sister a {^\v months previously, and the thought
flashed across me that it might be her, '^ Is it you, Emily ? "
I asked ; but the head was still shaken to express a nega-
tive, and a similar question on the part of Miss Kidling-
bury, with respect to a friend of her own, met with the
same response. " Who can it be ? " I remarked curiously
to Mr. Harrison.
" Mother ! don't you know me ? " sounded in " Flor-
ence's " whispering voice. I started up to approach her,
exclaiming, " O ! my darling child ! I never thought I
should meet you here ! " But she said, " Go back to your
chair, and I will come to you ! " I reseated myself, and
"' Florence " crossed the room and sat down on my lap.
She was more unclothed on that occasion than any mate-
rialized spirit I have ever seen. She wore nothing on her
head, only her hair, of which she appears to have an im-
mense quantity, fell down her back and covered her
shoulders. Her arms were bare and her feet and part of
her legs, and the dress she wore had no shape or style, but
seemed like so many yards of soft thick muslin, wound
round her body from the bosom to below the knees. She
was a heavy weight — perhaps ten stone — and had well-
covered limbs. In fact, she was then, and has appeared
for several years past, to be, in point of size and shape, so
like her eldest sister Eva, that I always observe the re-
semblance between them. This seance took place at a
period when " Florence " must have been about seventeen
years old.
" Florence, my darling," I said, " is this really you ? "
" Turn up the gas," she answered, " and look at my mouth."
Mr. Harrison did as she desired, and we all saw distinctly
that peculiar defect 07i the lip with which she was born —
a defect, be it remembered, which some of the most ex-
perienced members of the profession had affirmed to be
" so rare as never to have fallen u?ider their ?wtice before,'^
She also opened her mouth that we might see she had no
THERE IS NO DEATH. 85
gullet. I promised at the commencement of my book to
confine myself to facts, and leave the deduction to be drawn
from them to my readers, so I will not interrupt my narra-
tive to make any remarks upon this incontrovertible proof
of identity. I know it struck me dumb, and melted me
into tears. At this juncture Miss Cook, who had been
moaning and moving about a good deal behind the black
shawl, suddenly exclaimed, " I can't stand this any longer,"
and walked out into the room. There she stood in her
grey dress and crimson ribbons whilst " Florence " sat on
my lap in white drapery. But only for a moment, for
directly the medium was fully in view, the spirit sprung up
and darted behind the curtain. Recalling Miss Cook's
injunctions to me, I scolded her heartily for leaving her
seat, until she crept back, whimpering, to her former po-
sition. The shawl had scarcely closed behind her before
" Florence " reappeared and clung to me, saying, " Don't
let her do that again. She frightens me so." She was
actually trembling all over. " Why, Florence," I replied.
" Do you mean to tell me you are frightened of your me-
dium ? In this world it is we poor mortals who are fright-
ened of the spirits." " I am afraid she will send me away,
mother," she whispered. However, Miss Cook did not
disturb us again, and " Florence " stayed with us for some
time longer. She clasped her arms round my neck, and
laid her head upon my bosom, and kissed me dozens of
times. She took my hand and spread it out, and said she
felt sure I should recognize her hand when she thrust it out-
side the curtain, because it was so much like my own. I
was suffering much trouble at that time, and " Florence "
told me the reason God had permitted her to show herself
to me in her earthly deformity was so that I might be sure
that she was herself, and that Spiritualism was a truth to
comfort me. " Sometimes you doubt, mother," she said,
" and think your eyes and ears have misled you ; but after
this you must never doubt again. Don't fancy I am like
this in the spirit land. The blemish left me long ago.
But I put it on to-night to make you certain. Don't fret,
dear mother. Remember /am always near you. No one
can take me away. Your earthly children may grow up
and go out into the world and leave you, but you will always
have your spirit child close to you." I did not, and cannot,
calculate for how long " Florence " remained visible on
86 THERE IS NO DEATH.
that occasion. Mr. Harrison told me afterwards that she
had remained for nearly twenty minutes. But her un-
doubted presence was such a stupendous fact tome, that I
could only think that she was there — that I actually held
in my arms the tiny infant I had laid with my own hands
in her coffin — that she was no more dead than I was my-
self, but had grown to be a woman. So I sat, with my
arms tight round her, and my heart beating against hers,
until the power decreased, and " Florence " was compelled
to give me a last kiss and leave me stupefied and bewildered
by what had so unexpectedly occurred. Two other spirits
materialized and appeared after she had left us, but as
neither of them was Mrs. Stewart, the seance, as far as Mr.
Harrison was concerned, was a failure. I have seen and
heard " Florence "on numerous occasions since the one I
have narrated, but not with the mark upon her mouth,
which she assures me will never trouble either of us again.
I could fill pages with accounts of her pretty, caressing
ways and her affectionate and sometimes solemn messages ;
but I have told as much of her story as will interest the
general reader. It has been wonderful to me to mark how
her ways and mode of communication have changed with
the passing years. It was a simple child who did not know
how to express itself that appeared to me in 1873. It is a
woman full of counsel and tender warning that comes to
me in 1890. But yet she is only nineteen. When she
reached that age, " Florence " told me she should never
grow any older in years or appearance, and that she had
reached the climax of womanly perfection in the spirit world.
Only to-night — the night before Christmas Day — as I write
her story, she conies to me and says, " Mother ! you must
not give way to sad thoughts. The Past is past. Let it
be buried in the blessings that remain to you."
And amongst the greatest of those blessings I reckon
my belief in the existence of my spirit-child.
THERE IS NO DEATH, 87
CHAPTER IX.
THE STORY OF EMILY.
My sister Emily was the third daughter of my late father,
and several years older than myself. She was a handsome
woman — strictly speaking, perhaps, the handsomest of the
family, and quite unlike the others. She had black hair
and eyes, a pale complexion, a well-shaped nose, and small,
narrow hands and feet. But her beauty had slight detrac-
tions — so slight, indeed, as to be imperceptible to strangers,
but well known to her intimate friends. Her mouth was a
little on one side, one shoulder was half an inch higher than
the other, her fingers were not quite straight, nor her toes,
and her hips corresponded with her shoulders. She was
clever, with a versatile, all-round talent, and of a very happy
and contented disposition. She married Dr, Henry Norris
of Charmouth, in Dorset, and lived there many years be-
fore her death. She was an excellent wife and mother, a
good friend, and a sincere Christian; indeed, I do not
believe that a more earnest, self-denying, better woman
ever lived in this world. But she had strong feelings,
and in some things she was very bigoted. One was Spirit-
ualism. She vehemently opposed even the mention of it,
declared it to be diabolical, and never failed to blame me
for pursuing such a wicked and unholy occupation. She
was therefore about the last person whom I should have
expected to take advantage of it to communicate with her
friends.
My sister Emily, died on the 20th of April, 1875.
Her death resulted from a sudden attack of pleurisy,
and was most unexpected. I was sitting at an early dinner
with my children on the same day when I received a tele-
gram from my brother-in-law to say, " Emily very ill ; will
telegraph when change occurs," and I had just despatched
an answer to ask if I should go down to Charmouth, or
could be of any use, when a second message arrived, " All
is over. She died quietly at two o'clock." Those who have
SS THERE IS NO DEATH.
received similar shocks will understand what I felt. I was
quite stunned, and could not realize that my sister had
passed away from us, so completely unanticipated had been
the news. I made the necessary arrangements for going
down to her funeral, but my head was filled with nothing
but thoughts of Emily the while, and conjectures of how
she had died and oitvhat she had died (for that was, as yet,
unknown to me), and what she had thought and said;
above all, what she was thinking and feeling at that moment,
I retired to rest with my brain in a whirl, and lay half the
night wide awake, staring into the darkness, and wondering
where my sister was. Now was the time (if any) for my
cerebral organs to play me a trick, and conjure up a vision
of the person I was thinking of. But I saw nothing ; no
sound broke the stillness ; my eyes rested only on the dark-
ness. I was quite disappointed, and in the morning I told
my children so. I loved my sister Emily dearly, and I
hoped she would have come to wish me good-bye. On the
following night I was exhausted by want of sleep and the
emotion I had passed through, and when I went to bed I
was very sleepy. I had not been long asleep, however,
before 1 was waked up — I can hardly say by what — and
there at my bedside stood Emily, smiling at me. When I
lost my little " Florence," Emily had been unmarried, and
she had taken a great interest in my poor baby, and nursed
her during her short lifetime, and, I believe, really mourned
her loss, for (although she had children of her own) she
always wore a little likeness of " Florence " in a locket on
her watch-chain. When Emily died I had of course been
for some time in communication with my spirit-child, and
when my sister appeared to me that night, " Florence " was
in her arms, with her head resting on her shoulder. I
recognized them both at once, and the only thing which
looked strange to me was that Emily's long black hair was
combed right back in the Chinese fashion, giving her fore-
head an unnaturally high appearance. This circumstance
made the greater impression on me, because we all have
such high foreheads with the hair growing off the temples
that we have never been able to wear it in the style I speak
of. With this exception my sister looked beautiful and
most happy, and my little girl clung to her lovingly. Emily
did not speak aloud, but she kept on looking down at
" Florence," and up at me, whilst her lips formed the words,
THERE IS NO DEATH. 89
" Little Baby," which was the name by which she had
always mentioned my spirir-child. In the morning I men-
tioned what I had seen to my elder girls, adding, " I hardly
knew dear Aunt Emily, with her hair scratched back in
that fashion."
This apparition happened on the Wednesday night,
and on the Friday following I travelled down to Char-
mouth to be present at the funeral, which was fixed
for Saturday. I found my sister Cecil there before me.
As soon as we were alone, she said to me, " I am so glad
you came to-day. I want you to arrange dear Emily nicely
in her coffin. The servants had laid her out before my
arrival, and she doesn't look a bit like herself. But I
haven't the nerve to touch her." It was late at night, but
I took a candle at once and accompanied Cecil to the
death-chamber. Our sister was lying, pale and calm, with
a smile upon her lips, much as she had appeared to me,
and with all her black hair combed back froin her forehead.
The servants had arranged it so, thinking it looked neater.
It was impossible to make any alteration till the morning,
but when our dear sister was carried to her grave, her hair
framed her dead face in the wavy curls in which it ahvays
fell when loose ; a wreath of flowering syringa was round
her head, a cross of violets on her breast, and in her waxen,
beautifully-moulded hands, she held three tall, white lilies.
I mention this because she has come to me since with the
semblance of these very flowers to ensure her recognition.
After the funeral, my brother-in-law gave me the details of
her last illness. He told me that on the Monday afternoon,
when her illness first took a serious turn and she became
(as he said) delirious, she talked continually to her father.
Captain Marryat (to whom she had been most reverentially
attached), and who, she affirmed, was sitting by the side of
the bed. Her conversation was perfectly rational, and only
disjointed when she waited for a reply to her own remarks.
She spoke to him of Langham and all that had happened
there, and particularly expressed her surprise at his having
a beard, saying, " Does hair grow up there, father? " I was
the more impressed by this account, because Dr. Norris,
like most medical men, attributed the circumstance entirely
to the distorted imagination of a wandering brain. And yet
my father (whom I have never seen since his death) has
been described to me by various clairvoyants, and always
go THERE IS NO DEATH.
as wearing a beards a tiling he never did during his h'fetime,
as it was the fashion then for naval officers to wear only
side whiskers. In all his pictures he is represented as clean
shorn, and as he was so well known a man, one would
think that (were they dissembling) the clairvoyants, in
describing his personal characteristics, would follow the
clue given by his portraits.
For some time after my sister Emily's death I heard
nothing more of her, and for the reasons I have given,
I never expected to see her again until we met in
the spirit-world. About two years after her death,
however, my husband. Colonel Lean, bought two tickets
for a series of seances to be held in the rooms of the
British National Association of Spiritualists under the
the mediumship of Mr. William Eglinton. This was the
first time we had ever seen or sat with Mr. Eglinton, but
we had heard a great deal of his powers, and were curious
to test them. On the first night, which was a Saturday,
we assembled with a party of twelve, all complete strangers,
in the rooms I have mentioned, which were comfortably
lighted with gas. Mr. Eglinton, who is a young man in-
clined to stoutness, went into the cabinet, which was placed
in the centre of us, with spectators all round it. The cabi-
net was like a large cupboard, made of wood and divided
into two parts, the partition being of wire-work, so that the
medium might be padlocked into it, and a curtain drawn
in front of both sides. After a while, a voice called out to
us not to be frightened, as the medium was coming out to
get more power, and Mr. Eglinton, in a state of trance and
dressed in a suit of evening clothes, walked out of the cabi-
net and commenced a tour of the circle. He touched
every one in turn, but did not stop until he reached Colonel
Lean, before whom he remained for some time, making
magnetic passes down his face and figure. He then turned
to re-enter the cabinet, but as he did so, some one moved
the curtain from inside and Mr. Eglinton actually held the
curtain to one side to permit the materialized for )n to pass
out before he went into the cabinet himself. The figure
that appeared was that of a woman clothed in loose white
garments that fell to her feet. Her eyes were black and her
long black hair fell over her shoulders. I suspected at the
time who she was, but each one in the circle was so certain
she came for him or for her, that I said nothing, and only
THERE IS NO DEATH. 91
mentally asKed if it were my sister that I might receive a
proof of her identity. On the following evening (Sunday)
Colonel Lean and I were " sitting " together, when Emily
came to the table to assure us that it was she whom we
had seen, and that she would appear again on Monday and
show herself more clearly. I asked her to think of some
means by which she could prove her identity with the spirit
that then spoke to us, and she said. " I will hold up my
right hand." Colonel Lean cautioned me not to mention
this promise to any one, that we might be certain of the
correctness of the test. Accordingly, on the Monday even-
ing we assembled for our second seance with Mr. Eglinton,
and the same form appeared, and walking out much closer
to us, held up the right hand. Colonel Lean, anxious not
to be deceived by his own senses, asked the company what
the spirit was doing. " Cannot you see ? " was the answer.
" She is holding up her hand." On this occasion Emily
came with all her old characteristics about her, and there
would have been no possibility of mistaking her (at least
on my part) without the proof she had promised to give
us.
The next startling assurance we received of her prox-
imity happened in a much more unexpected manner. We
were staying, in the autumn of the following year, at a
boarding-house in the Rue de Vienne at Brussels, with a
large party of English visitors, none of whom we had ever
seen till we entered the house. Amongst them were several
girls, who had never heard of Spiritualism before, and were
much interested in listening to the relation of our experi-
ences on the subject. One evening when I was not well,
and keeping my own room, some of these young ladies got
hold of Colonel Lean and said, "Oh ! do come and sit in
the dark with us and tell us ghost stories." Now sitting
in the dark and telling ghost stories to five or six nice
looking girls is an occupation few men would object to,
and they were all soon ensconced in the dark and deserted
salle-d-manger. Amongst them was a young girl of sixteen,
Miss Helen Hill, who had never shown more interest than
the rest in such matters. After they had been seated in
the dark for some minutes, she said to Colonel Lean, " Do
you know, I can see a lady on the opposite side of the table
quite distinctly, and she is nodding and smiling at you."
The colonel asked what the lady was like. " She is very
gZ THERE IS NO DEATH.
nice looking," replied the girl, " with dark eyes and hair,
but she seems to want me to notice her ring. She wears
a ring with a large blue stone in it, of such a funny shape,
and she keeps on twisting it round and round her finger,
and pointing to it. Oh ! now she has got up and is walk-
ing round the room. Only fancy ! she is holding up her
feet for me to see. They are bare and very white, but her
toes are crooked ! " Then Miss Hill became frightened
and asked them to get a light. She declared that the figure
had come up, close to her, and torn the lace off her wrists.
And when the light was procured and her dress examined,
a frill of lace that had been tacked into her sleeve that
morning had totally disappeared. The young ladies grew
nervous and left the room, and Colonel Lean, thinking the
description Helen Hill had given of the spirit tallied with
that of my sister Emily, came straight up to me and sur-
prised me by an abrupt question as to whether she had
been in the habit of wearing any particular ring (for he had
not seen her for several years before her death). I told
him that her favorite ring was an uncut turquoise — so large
and uneven that she used to call it her " potato." " Had
she any peculiarity about her feet? " he went on, eagerly.
" Why do you wish to know? " I said. " She had crooked
toes, that is all." " Good heavens ! " he exclaimed, " then
she has been with us in the salle-d-manger.'''' I have never
met Miss Hill since, and I am not in a position to say if she
has evinced any further possession of clairvoyant power ;
but she certainly displayed it on that occasion to a remark-
able degree ; for she had never even heard of the existence
of my sister Emily, and was very much disturbed and
annoyed when told that the apparition she had described
was reality and not imagination.
THERE IS NO DEATH. 93
CHAPTER X.
THE STORY OF THE GREEN LADY.
The story I have to tell now happened a very short time
ago, and every detail is as fresh in my mind as if I had
heard and seen it yesterday. Mrs, Guppy-Volckman has
been long known to the spiritualistic world as a very power-
ful medium, also as taking a great private interest in Spirit-
ualism, which all media do not. Her means justify her, too,
in gratifying her whims ; and hearing that a certain house
in Broadstairs was haunted, she became eager to ascertain
the truth. The house being empty, she procured the keys
from the landlord, and proceeded on a voyage of discovery
alone. Slie had barely recovered, at the time, from a most
dangerous illness, which had left a partial paralysis of the
lower limbs behind it ; it was therefore with considerable
difficulty that she gained the drawing-room of the house,
which was on the first floor, and when there she abandoned
her crutches, and sat down o\\ the floor to recover herself.
Mrs. Volckman was now perfectly alone. She had closed
the front door after her, and she was moreover almost
helpless, as it was with great difficulty that she could rise
without assistance. It was on a summer's evening towards
the dusky hour, and she sat on the bare floor of the empty
house waiting to see what might happen. After some time
(I tell this part of the story as I received it from her lips)
she heard a rustling or sweeping sound, as of a long silk
train coming down the uncarpeted stairs from the upper
storey. The room in which she sat communicated with
another, which led out upon the passage, and it was not
long before the door between these two apartments opened
and the figure of a woman appeared. She entered the
room in which Mrs. Volckman sat, very cautiously, and
commenced to walk round it, feeling her way along the
walls as though she were blind or tipsy. She was dressed
in a green satin robe that swept behind her — round the
upper part of her body was a kind of scarf of glistening
94 THERE IS NO DEATH.
white material, like silk gauze — and on her head was a
black velvet cap, or coif, from underneath which her long
black hair fell down her back. Mrs. Volckman, although
used all her life to manifestations and apparitions of all
sorts, told me she had never felt so frightened at the sight
of one before. She attempted to rise, but feeling her in-
capability of doing so quickly, she screamed with fear. As
soon as she did so, the woman turned round and ran out
of the room, apparently as frightened as herself. Mrs.
Volckman got hold of her crutches, scrambled to her feet,
found her way downstairs, and reached the outside of the
house in safety. Most people would never have entered it
again. She, on the contrary, had an interview with the
landlord, and actually, then and there, purchased a lease
of the house and entered upon possession, and as soon as
it was furnished and ready for occupation, she invited a
party of friends to go down and stay with her at Broad-
stairs, and make the acquaintance of the " Green Lady,"
as we had christened her. Colonel Lean and I were
amongst the visitors, the others consisting of Lady Archi-
bald Campbell, Miss Shaw, Mrs. Olive, Mrs. Bellesv, Colo-
nel Greek, Mr. Charles Williams, and Mr. and Mrs. Henry
Volckman, which, wth our host and hostess, made up a
circle of twelve. We assembled there on a bright day in
July, and the house, with its large rooms and windows
facing the sea, looked cheerful enough. The room in which
Mrs. Volckman had seen the apparition was furnished as a
drawing-room., and the room adjoining it, which was
divided by a portiere only from the. larger apartment, she
had converted for convenience sake into her bedroom.
The first evening we sat it was about seven o'clock, and
so light that we let down all the Venetians, which, however,
did little to remedy the evil. We had no cabinet, nor cur-
tains, nor darkness, for it was full moon at the time, and
the dancing, sparkling waves were quite visible through the
interstices of the Venetians. We simply sat round the table,
holding hands in an unbroken circle and laughing and
chatting with each other. In a few minutes Mrs. Volck-
man said something was rising beside her from the carpet,
and in a few more the " Green Lady " was visible to us all
standing between the medium and Mr. Williams. She was
just as she had been described to us, both in dress and
appearance, but her face was as white and as cold as that
THERE IS NO DEATH. 95
of a corpse, and lier eyes were closed. She leaned over
the table and brought her face close to each of us in turn,
but she seemed to have no power of speech. After stay-
ing with us about ten minutes, she sunk as she had risen,
through tlie carpet, and disappeared. The next evening,
under precisely similar circumstances, she came again.
This time she had evidently gained more vitality in a ma-
terialized condition, for when I urged her to tell me her
name, she whispered, though with much difficulty, " Julia ! "
and when Lady Archibald observed that she thought she
had no hands, the spirit suddenly thrust out a little hand,
and grasped the curls on her forehead with a violence
that gave her pain. Unfortunately, Mr. Williams' profes-
sional engagements compelled him to leave us on the fol-
lowing day, and Mrs. Volckman had been too recently ill
to permit her to sit alone, so that we were not able to hold
another 5^a/^^(? for the "Green Lady" during our visit.
But we had not seen the last of her. One evening Mrs.
Bellew and I were sitting in the bay window of the draw-
ing-room, just " between the lights," and discussing a very,
private matter indeed, when I saw (as I thought) my
hostess maid raise the portiere that hung between the
apartments and stand there in a listening attitude. I im-
mediately gave Mrs. Volckman the hint. " Let us talk of
something else," I said, in a low voice. "Jane is in your
bedroom." " O ! no ! she's not," was the reply. " But I
saw her lift \\\q. portiere,' I persisted ; " she has only just
dropped it." " You are mistaken," replied my hostess,
" for Jane has gone on the beach with the child." I felt
sure I had not been mistaken, but I held my tongue and
said no more. The conversation was resumed, and as we
were deep in the delicate matter, the woman appeared for
the second time.
" Mrs. Volckman," I whispered, "Jane is really there.
She has just looked in again."
My friend rose from her seat. " Come with me," she
said, " and I will convince you that you are wrong."
I followed her into the bedroom, where she showed me
that the door communicating with the passage was locked
inside.
" Now, do you see," she continued, " that no one but
the * Green Lady ' could enter this room but through the
one we are sitting in."
96 THERE IS NO DEATH.
" Then it must have been the ' Green Lady,' " I replied,
" for I assuredly saw a woman standing in the door-
way."
" That is likely enough," said Mrs. Volckman ; "but if
she comes again she shall have the trouble of drawing back
the curtains."
And thereupon she unhooped the portiere, which con-
sisted of two curtains, and drew them right across the door.
We had hardly regained our seats in the bay window
before the two curtains were sharply drawn aside, making
the brass rings rattle on the rod, and the " Green Lady "
stood in the opening we had just passed through. Mrs.
Volckman told her not to be afraid, but to come out and
speak to us ; but she was apparently not equal to doing so,
and only stood there for a few mina^es gazing at us. I
imprudently left my seat and approached her, with a view
to making overtures of friendship, when she dropped the
curtains over her figure. I passed through them imme-
diately to the other side, and found the bedroom empty
and the door locked inside, as before.
THERE IS NO DEATH. 97
CHAPTER XI.
THE STORY OF THE MONK.
A LADV named Uniacke, a resident in Bruges, whilst on a
visit to my house in London, met and had a seaiicew'xxh
WiUiam Eglinton, with which she was so delighted that she
immediately invited him to go and stay with her abroad,
and as my husband and I were about to cross over to
Bruges to see my sister, who also resided there, we travelled
in company — Mr. Eglinton living at Mrs. Uniacke's home,
whilst we stayed with our own relations. Mrs. Uniacke
was a medium herself, and had already experienced some
very noisy and violent demonstrations in her own house.
She was, therefore, quite prepared for her visitor, and had
fitted up a spare room with a cabinet and blinds to the
windows, and everything that was necessary. But, some-
what to her chagrin, we were informed at the first sitting
by Mr. Eglinton's control, " Joey," that all future seances
were to take place at my sister's house instead. We were
given no reason for the change ; we were simply told to
obey it. My sister's house was rather a peculiar one, and
I have already alluded te it, and some of the sights and
sounds by which it was haunted, in the chapter headed
"Optical Illusions." The building is so ancient that the
original date has been completely lost. A stone set into
one of the walls bore an inscription to the effect that it was
restored in the year 1616. And an obsolete plan of the
city shows it to have stood in its present condition in 1562.
Prior to that period, however, probably about the thirteenth
century, it is supposed, with three houses on either side of
it, to have formed a convent, but no printed record remains
of the fact. Beneath it are subterraneous passages, choked
with rubbish, which lead, no one knows whither. I had
stayed in this house several times before, and always felt
unpleasant influences from it, as I have related, especially
in a large room on the lower floor, then used as a drawing-
room, but which is said to have formed, originally, the
7
98 THERE IS NO DEATH.
chapel to the convent. Others had felt the influence
beside myself, though we never had had reason to suppose
tliat there was any particular cause for it. When we ex-
pressed curiosity, however, to learn why " Joey " desired
us to hold our seance in my sister's house, he told us that
the medium had not been brought over to Bruges for our
pleasure or edification, but that there was a great work to
be done there, and Mrs. Uniacke had been expressly
influenced to invite him over, that the purposes of a higlicr
power than his own should be accomplished. Conse-
quently, on the following evening Mrs. Uniacke brought
Mr. Eglinton over to my sister's house, and ** Joey " hav-
ing been asked to choose a room for the sitting, selected
an entresol on the upper floor, which led by two short pas-
sages to the bedrooms. The bedroom doors being locked
a dark curtain was hung at the entrance of one of these
passages, and "Joey " declared it was a first-rate cabinet.
We then assembled in the drawing-room, for the purposes
of music and conversation, for we intended to hold the
seance later in the evening. The party consisted only of
the medium, Mrs. Uniacke, my sister, my husband, and
myself. After I had sung a song or two, Mr. Eglinton
became restless and moved away from the piano, saying
the influence was too strong for him. He began walking
up and down the room, and staring fixedly at the door,
before which hung ti portiere. Several times he exclaimed
with knitted brows, '• What is the matter with that door?
There is something very peculiar about it," Once he
approached it quickly, but "Joey's " voice was heard from
behind the p^r//Vr^, saying, "Don't come too near." Mr.
Eglinton then retreated to a sofa, and appeared to be fight-
ing violently with some unpleasant influence. He made
the sign of the cross, then extended his fingers towards
the door, as though to exorcise it : finally he burst into a
mocking, scornful peal of laughter that lasted for some
minutes. As it concluded, a diabolical expression came
over his face. He clenched his hands, gnashed his teeth,
and commenced to grope in a crouching position towards
the door. We concluded he wished to get up to the room
where the 'cabinet was, and let him have his way. He
crawled, rather than walked, up the steep turret stairs,
but on reaching the top, came to himself suddenly and fell
back several steps. My husband, fortunately, was just
THERE IS NO DEATH. 99
behind him and saved him from a fall. He complained
greatly of the influence and of a pain in his head, and we
sat at the table to receive directions. In a few seconds
the same spirit had taken possession of him. He left the
table and groped his way towards the bedrooms, listening
apparently to every sound, and with his hand holding an
imaginary knife which was raised every now and then as if
to strike. The expression on Mr. Eglinton's face during
this possession is too horrible to describe. The worst pas-
sions were written as legibly there as though they had been
labelled. There was a short flight of stairs leading from
the entresol to the corridor, closed at the head by a padded
door, which we had locked for fear of accident. When,
apparently in pursuit of his object, tb.e spirit led the
medium up to this door and he found it fastened, his moans
were terrible. Half-a-dozen times he made his weary
round of the room^ striving to get downstairs to accomplish
some end, and to return to us moaning and baffled. At
this juncture, he was so exhausted that one of his controls,
" Daisy," took possession of him and talked with us for
some time. We asked " Daisy " what the spirit was like
that had controlled Mr. Eglinton last, and she said she did
not like him — he had a bad face, no hair on the top of his
head, and a long black frock. From this we concluded he
had been a monk or a priest. When " Daisy " had fin-
ished speaking to us " Joey " desired Mr. Eglinton to go
into the cabinet ; but as soon as he rose, the same spirit
got possession again and led him grovelling as before to-
wards the bedrooms. His " guides " therefore carried him
into the cabinet before our eyes. He was elevated far
above our heads, his feet touching each of us in turn ; he
was then carried past the unshaded window, which enabled
us to judge of the height he was from ihe ground, and finally
over a large table, into the cabinet.
Nothing, however, of consequence occurred, and *' Joey"
advised us to take the medium downstairs to the supper
room.
Accordingly we adjourned there, and during supper Mr.
Eglinton appeared to be quite himself, and laughed with
us over what had taken place. As soon as the meal was
over, however, the old restlessness returned on him, and
he began pacing up and down the room, walking out every
now and then into the corridor. In a few minutes we per-
loo THERE IS NO DEATH.
ceived that the uneasy spirit again controlled him, and we
all followed. He went steadily towards the drawing-room,
but, on finding himself pursued, turned back, and three
times pronounced emphatically the word " Go." He then
entered the drawing-room, which was in darkness, and
closed the door behind him, whilst we waited outside. In
a little while he reopened it, and speaking in quite a dif-
ferent voice, said '• Bring a light ! I have something to say
to you." When we reassembled with a lamp we found the
medium controlled by a new spirit, whom " Joey " after-
wards told us was one of his highest guides. Motioning us
to be seated, he stood before us and said, " I have been
selected from amongst the controls of this medium to tell
you the history of the unhappy being who has so disturbed
you this evening. He is present now, and the confession
of his crime through my lips will help him to throw off the
earthbound condition to which it has condemned him.
Many years ago, the house in which we now stand was a
convent, and underneath it were four subterraneous pas-
sages running north, south, east, and west, which commu-
nicated with all parts of the town. (I must here state that
Mr. Eglinton had not previously been informed of any
particulars relating to the former history of my sister's
home, neither were Mrs. Uniacke or myself acquainted
with it.)
" In this convent there lived a most beautiful woman — a
nun, and in one of the neighboring monasteries a priest
who, against the strict law of his Church, had conceived
and nourished a passion for her. He was an Italian who
had been obliged to leave his own country, for reasons
best known to himself, and nightly he would steal his way
to this house, by means of one of the subterraneous pas-
sages, and attempt to overcome the nun's scruples, and
make her listen to his tale of love ; but she, strong in the
faith, resisted him. At last, maddened one day by her
repeated refusals, and his own guilty passion, he hid him-
self in one of the northern rooms in the upper story of this
house, and watched there in the dark for her to pass him
on her way from her devotions in the chapel ; but she did
not come. Then he crept downstairs stealthily, with a
dagger hid beneath his robes, and met her in the hall. He
conjured her again to yield to him, but again she resisted,
and he stabbed her within the door on the very spot where
THERE IS NO DEATH. loi
the medium first perceived him. Her pure soul sought
immediate consolation in the spirit spheres, but his has
been chained down ever since to the scene of his awful
crime. He dragged her body down the secret stairs (which
are still existent) to the vaults beneath, and hid it in the
subterraneous passage.
" After a few days he sought it again, and buried it. He
lived many years after, and committed many other crimes,
though none so foul as this. It is his unhappy spirit that
asks your prayers to help it to progress. It is for lliis
purpose that we were brought to this city, that we might
aid in releasing the miserable soul that cannot rest."
I asked, " By what name shall we pray for him ? "
" Pray for ' the distressed Being.' Call him by no other
name."
" What is your own name ? "
** I prefer to be unknown. May God bless you all and
keep you in the way of prayer and truth and from all evil
courses, and bring you to everlasting life. Amen."
The medium then walked up to the spot he had indicated
as the scene of the murder, and knelt there for some
minutes in prayer.
Thus concluded the first seance at which the monk was
introduced to us. But the next day as I sat at the table
with my sister only, the name of " Hortense Dupont "was
given us, and the following conversation was rapped out.
"Who are you?"
" I am the nun. I did love him. I couldn't help it It
is such a relief to think that he will be prayed for."
" When did he murder you ? "
" In 1498."
" What was his name ? "
" I cannot tell you."
" His age."
" Thirty-five ! "
** And yours."
" Twenty-three."
"Are you coming to see us to-morrow? "
" I am not sure."
On that evening, by "Joey's " orders, we assembled at
seven. Mr. Eglinton did not feel the influence in the
drawing-room that day, but directly he entered the siance
room, he was possessed by the same spirit. His actions
I02 THERE IS NO DEATH.
were still more graphic than on the first occasion. He
watched from the window for the coming of his victim
through the courtyard, and then recommenced his crawling
stealthy pursuit, coming back each time from the locked
door that barred his egress with such heart-rending
moans that no one could have listened to him unmoved.
At last, his agony was so great, as he strove again and
again, like some dumb animal, to j^ass through the walls
that divided him from the spot he wished to visit, whilst
the persj^iration streamed down the medium's face with
the struggle, that we attempted to make him speak to us.
We implored him in French to tell us his trouble, and be-
lieve us to be his friends ; but he only pushed us away.
At last we were impressed to pray for him, and kneeling
down, we repeated all the well-known Catholic prayers.
As we commenced the ^' De Profundis " the medium fell
prostrate on the earth, and seemed to wrestle with his
agony. At the " Salve Regina " and " Ave Maria " he
lifted his eyes to heaven and clasped his hands, and in the
"Pater Noster " he appeared to join. But directly we
ceased praying the evil passions returned, and his face
became distorted in the thirst for blood. It was an experi-
ence tliat no one who had seen could ever forget. At last
my sister fetched a crucifix, which we placed upon his
breast. It had not been there many seconds before a
different expression came over his face. He seized it in
both hands, straining it to his eyes, lips, and heart, hold-
ing it from him at arm's length, then passionately kissing
it, as we repeated the '* Anima Christi." Finally, he held
the crucifix out for each of us to kiss ; a beautiful smile
broke out on the medium's face, and the spirit passed out
of him.
Mr. Eglinton awoke on that occasion terribly exhausted.
His face was as white as a sheet, and he trembled vio-
lently. His first words were : " They are doing some-
thing to my forehead. Burn a piece of paper, and give
me the ashes." He rubbed them between his eyes, when
the sign of the cross became distinctly visible, drawn in
deep red lines upon his forehead. The controls then said,
exhausted as Mr. Eglinton was, we were to place him in
the cabinet, as their work was not yet done. He was
accordingly led in trance to the arm-chair behind the cur-
tain, whilst we formed a circle in front of him. In a few
THERE IS NO DEATH.
»o3
seconds the cabinet was illuminated, and a cross of fire
appeared outside of it. This manifestation having been
seen twice, the head and shoulders of a nun appeared
floating outside the curtain. Her white coif and " chin-
piece " were pinned just as the ''' religietises" are in the
habit of pinning them, and she seemed very anxious to
show herself, coming close to each of us in turn, and re-
appearing several times. Her face was that of a young
and pretty woman. " Joey " said, "That's the nun, but
you'll understand that this is only a preliminary trial, pre-
paratory to a more perfect materialization." I asked the
apparition if she were the " Hortense Dupont " that had
communicated through me, and she nodded her head
several times in acquiescence. Thus ended our second
siance with the Monk of Bruges.
On the third day we were all sitting at supper in
my sister's house at about ten o'clock at night, when
loud raps were heard about the room, and on giving
the alphabet, "Joey " desired us to go upstairs and sit,
and to have the door at the head of the staircase (which
we had hitherto locked for fear of accidents) left open ;
which we accordingly did. As soon as we were seated at
the table, the medium became entranced, and the same
pantomime which I have related was gone through. He
watched from the window that looked into the courtyard,
and silently groped his way round the room, until he had
crawled on his stomach up the stairs that led to the padded
door. When he found, however, that the obstacle that
had hitherto stood in his way was removed (by its being
open) he drew a long breath and started away for the
winding turret staircase, listening at the doors he passed
to find out if he were overheard. When he came to the
stairs, in descending which we had been so afraid
he might hurt himself^ he was carried down them in
the most wonderful manner, only placing his hand on
the balustrades, and swooping to the bottom in one
flight. We had placed a lamp in the hall, so that as we
followed him we could observe all his actions. When he
reached the bottom of the staircase he crawled on his
stomach to the door of the drawing-room (originally the
chapel) and there waited and listened, darting back into
the shadow every time he fancied he heard a sound.
Imagine our little party of four in that sombre old house,
104 THERE IS NO DEATH.
the only ones waking at that time of night, watching by
the ghastly light of a turned-down lamp the acting of that
terrible tragedy. We held our breath as the murderer
crouched by the chapel door, opening it noiselessly to
peep within, and then, retreating w'th his imaginary dagger
in his hand, ready to strike as soon as his victim appeared.
At last she seemed to come. In an instant he had sprung
to meet her, stabbing her first in a half-stooping attitude,
and then, apparently, finding her not dead, he rose to his
full height and stabbed her twice, straight downwards. For
a moment he seemed paralyzed at what he had done,
starting back with both hands clasped to his forehead.
Then he flung himself prostrate on the supposed body,
kissing the ground frantically in all directions. Presently
he woke to the fear of detection, and raised the corpse
suddenly in his arms. He fell once beneath the supposed
weight, but staggering to his feet again, seized and dragged
it, slipping on the stone floor as he went, to the head of
the staircase that led to the cellars below, where the
mouth of one of the subterraneous passages was still to
be seen. The door at the head of this flight was modern,
and he could not undo the lock, so, prevented from drag-
ging the body down the steps, he cast himself again upon
it, kissing the stone floor of the hall and moaning. At last
he dragged himself on his knees to the spot of the murder,
and began to pray. We knelt with him, and as he heard
our voices he turned on his knees towards us with out-
stretched hands. I suggested that he wanted the crucifix
again, and went upstairs to fetch it, when the medium
followed me. When I had found what I sought, he seized
it from me eagerly, and carrying it to the window, whence
he had so often watched, fell down again upon his knees.
After praying for some time he tried to speak to us. His
lips moved and his tongue protruded, but he was unable
to articulate. Suddenly he seized each of our hands in
turn in both of his own, and wrung them violently. He
tried to bless us, but the words would not come. The same
beautiful smile we had seen the night before broke out
over his countenance, the crucifix dropped from his hands,
and he fell prostrate on the floor. The next moment Mr.
Eglinton was asking us where he was and what on earth
had happened to him, as he felt so queer. He declared
himself fearfully exhausted, but said he felt that a great
THERE IS NO DEATH. 105
calm and peace had come over him notwithstanding the
weakness, and he believed some great good had been
accomplished. He was not again entranced, but " Joey "
ordered the liglit to be put out, and spoke to us in the
direct voice as follows : —
" I've just come to tell you what I know you will be very
glad to hear, that through the medium's power, and our
power, and the great power of God, the unhappy spirit who
has been confessing his crime to you is freed to-night from
the heaviest part of his burden — the being earth-chained to
the spot. I don't mean to say that he will go away at once
to the spheres, because he's got a lot to do still to alter the
conditions under which he labors, but the worst is over.
This was the special work Mr. Eglinton was brought to
Bruges to do, and Ernest and I can truly say that, during
the whole course of our control of him, we have never had
to put forth our own powers, nor to ask so earnestly for the
help of God, as in the last three days. You have all helped
in a good work, — to free a poor soul from earth, and to set
him on the right road, and ^ve are grateful to you and to the
medium, as well as he. He will be able to progress rapidly
now until he reaches his proper sphere, and hereafter the
spirits of himself and the woman he murdered will work
together to undo for others the harm they brought upon
themselves. She is rejoicing in her high sphere at the
work we have done for him, and will be the first to help
and welcome him upward. There are many more earth-
bound spirits in this house and the surrounding houses
who are suffering as he was, though not to the same extent,
nor for the same reason. But they all ask for and need
your help and your prayers, and this is the greatest and
noblest end of Spiritualism — to aid poor, unhappy spirits
to free themselves from earth and progress upwards. After
a while when this spirit can control the medium with calm-
ness, he will come himself and tell you, through him, all his
history and how he came to fall. Meanwhile, we thank
you very much for allowing us to draw so much strength
from you and helping us with your sympathy, and I hope
you will believe me always to remain, your loving friend,
Joey."
This account, with very little alteration, was published
in the Spiritualist newspaper, August 29th, 1879, when
Jo6 THERE IS NO DEATH.
the seances had just occurred. Tliere is a sequel to the
slory, however, which is ahiiost as remarkable as itself, and
which has not appeared in print till now. From Bruges
on this occasion my husband and I went to Brussels,
where we diverted ourselves by means very dissimilar to
anything so grave as Spiritualism. There were many sales
going on in Brussels at that moment, and one of our amuse-
ments was to make a tour of the salerooms and inspect the
articles put up for competition. During one of these visits
I was much taken by a large oil pointing, in a massive
frame, measuring some six or seven feet square. It re-
presented a man in the dress of a Franciscan monk — i.e.,
a brown serge robe, knotted with cords about the waist —
kneeling in prayer with outstretched hands upon a mass
of burning embers. It was labelled in the catalogue as
the picture of a Spanish monk of the order of Saint Francis
Xavier, and was evidently a painting of some value. I
was drawn to go and look at it several days in succession
before the sale, and I told my husband that I coveted its
possession. He laughed at me and said it would fetch a
great deal more money than we could afford to give
for it, in which opinion I acquiesced. Theday of the sale,
however, found us in our places to watch the proceedings,
and when the picture of the monk was put up I bid a small
sum for it. Col. Lean looked at me in astonishment, but
I whispered to him that I was only in fun, and I should
stop at a hundred francs. The bidding was very languid,
however, and to my utter amazement, the picture was
knocked down to me for seventy-two francs. I could
hardly believe that it was true. Directly the sale was con-
cluded, the brokers crowded round me to ask what I would
take for the painting, and they told me they had not thought
of bidding until it should have reached a few hundred
francs. But I told them I had got my bargain, and I meant
to stick by it. When we returned next day to make ar-
rangements for its being sent to us, the auctioneer informed
us that the frame alone in which it had been sent for sale
had cost three hundred francs, so that I was well satisfied
with my purchase. This occurrence took place a short
time before we returned tfe England, where we arrived long
before the painting, which, with many others, was left to
follow us by a cheaper and slower route.
The Sunday after we reached home (having seen no
friends in the meanwhile), we walked into Steinway Hall
THERE IS NO DEATH. 107
to hear Mr. Fletcher's lecture. At its conclusion he passed
as usual into a state of trance, and described what he saw
before him. In the midst of mentioning people, places,
and incidents unknown to us, he suddenly exclaimed :
" Now I see a very strange thing, totally unlike anything
I have ever seen before, and I hardly know how to describe
it. A man comes before me — a foreigner — and in a dress
belonging to some monastic order, a brown robe of coarse
cloth or flannel, with a rope round his waist and beads
hanging, and bare feet and a shaved head. He is dragging
a picture on to the platform, a very large painting in a
frame, and it looks to me like a portrait of himself, kneeling
on a carpet of burning wood. No ! I am wrong. The
man tells me the picture is not a portrait of himself, but of
the founder of his Order, and it is in the possession of some
people in this hall to-night. The man tells me to tell
these people that it was his spirit that influenced them to
buy this painting at some place over the water, and he did
so in order that they might keep it in remembrance of
what Lhey have done for him. And he desires that they
shall hang that picture in some room where they may see
it every day, that they may never forget the help which
spirits on this earth may render by their prayers to spirits
that have passed away. And he offers them through me
his heartfelt thanks for the assistance given him, and he
says the day is not far off when lie shall pray for himself
and for them, that their kindness may return into their own
bosoms."
The oil painting reached England in safety some weeks
afterwards, and was hung over the mantel- piece in our
dining-room, where it remained, a familiar object to all
our personal acquaintances.
lo8 THERE IS NO DEATH.
CHAPTER XII.
THE MEDIUMSHIP OF MISS SHOWERS.
Some time before I had the pleasure of meeting Miss
Showers, I heard, through friends hiving in tlie west of
England, of the mysterious and marvellous powers possessed
by a young lady of their acquaintance, who was followed
by voices in the air, which held conversations with her,
and the owners of which were said to have made them-
selves visible. I listened with curiosity, the more so, as
my informants utterly disbelieved in Spiritualism, and
thought the phenomena were due to trickery. At the same
time I conceived a great desire to see the girl of sixteen,
who, for no gain or apparent object of her own, was so
clever as to mystify everyone around her ; and when she
and her mother came to London, I was amongst the first
to beg for an introduction, and I shall never forget the
experiences I had with her. She was the first private
medium through whom my personal friends returned to
converse with me ; and no one but a Spiritualist can ap-
preciate the blessing of spiritual communications through
a source that is above the breath of suspicion, I have
already written at length about Miss Showers in"T]ie
story of John Powles." She was a child, compared to my-
self, whose life had hardly commenced when mine was
virtually over, and neither she, nor any member of her
family, had ever had an opportunity of becoming acquainted
with even the names of my former friends. Yet (as 1 have
related) John Powles made Miss Showers his especial
mouthpiece, and my daughter •' Florence " (then a little
child) also appeared through her, though at long intervals,
and rather timidly. Her own controls, however, or cabinet
spirits (as they call them in America) — i.e., such spirits as
are always about the medium, and help the strangers to
appear — " Peter," " Florence," " Lenore," and " Sally,"
were very familiar with me, and afforded me such facilities
of testing their medium as do not often fall to the lot of
THERE IS NO DEATH. 109
inquirers. Indeed, at one time, they always requested that
I should be present at their seances., so that I considered
myself to be highly favored. And I may mention here
that Miss Showers and I were so much en rapport that her
manifestations were always much stronger in my presence.
We could not sit next each other at an ordinary tea or
supper table, when we had no thought of, or desire to hold
a seance, without manifestations occurring in the full light.
A hand, Oiat did not belong to either of us, would make
itself apparent under the table-cloth between us — a hand
with power to grasp ours — or our feet would be squeezed
or kicked beneath the table, or fingers would suddenly
appear, and whisk the food off our plates. Some of their
jests were inconvenient. I have had the whole contents
of a tumbler, which I was raising to my lips, emptied over
my dress. It was generally known that our powers were
sympathetic, and at last " Peter " gave me leave, or, rather,
ordered me to sit in the cabinet with " Rosie," whilst the
manifestations went on outside. He used to say he didn't
care for me any more than if I had been " a spirit myself."
One evening " Peter " called me into the cabinet (whicli
was simply a large box cupboard at one end of the dining-
room) before the seafice hcgd.n, and told me to sit down at
the medium's feet and *' be a good girl and keep quiet."
Miss Showers was in a low chair, and I sat with my arms
resting on her lap. She did not become entranced, and
we talked the whole time together. Presently, without
any warning, two figures stood beside us. I could not
have said where they came from. I neither saw them rise
from the floor nor descend from the ceiling. There was
no beginning to their appearance. In a moment they were
simply there — " Peter " and " Florence " (not my child,
but Miss Showers' control of the same names).
" Peter " sent " Florence " out to the audience, where
we heard her speaking to them and their remarks upon
her (there being only a thin curtain hung before the en-
trance of the cabinet), but he stayed with us himself. We
could not see him distinctly in the dim light, but we could
distinctly hear and feel him. He changed our ornaments
and ribbons, and pulled the hair-pins out of our hair, and
made comments on what was going on outside. After a
while "Florence" returned to get more power, and both
spirits spoke to and touched us at the same time. During
no THERE IS NO DEATH.
the whole of tliis seance my arms rested on Miss Showers'
lap, and she was awake and talking to me about the
spirits.
One evening, at a sitting at Mr. Luxmore's house in
Hyde Park Square, the spirit " Florence " had been walk-
ing amongst the audience in the lighted front drawing-
room for a considerable time — even sitting at the piano
and accompanying herself whilst she sung us a song in
what she called " the planetary language." She greatly
resembled her medium on that occasion, and several per-
sons present remarked that she did so. I suppose the in-
ferred doubt annoyed her, for before she finally left us she
asked for a light, and a small oil lamp was brought to her
which she placed in my hand, telling me to follow her and
look at her medium, which 1 accordingly did. " Florence "
led the way into the back drawing-room, where I found
Miss Showers reposing in an arm-chair. The first sight of
her terrified me. For the purpose of making any change
in her dress as difficult as possible, she wore a high, tight-
fitting black velvet frock, fastened at the back, and high
Hessian boots, with innumerable buttons. But she now
appeared to be shrunk to half her usual size, and the dress
hung loosely on her figure. Her arms had disappeared,
but putting my hands up the dress sleeves, I found them
diminished to the size of those of a little child — the fingers
reaching only to where the elbows had been. The same
miracle had happened to her feet, which only occupied
half her boots. She looked in fact like the mummy of a
girl of four or six years old. The spirit told me to feel her
face. The forehead was dry, rough, and burning hot, but
from the chin water was dropping freely on to the bosom
of her dress. " Florence " said to me, "I wanted j^^// to
see her, because I know you are brave enough to tell
people what you have seen."
There was a marked difference in the personality of the
two influences "Florence" and " Lenore," although both
at times resembled Miss Showers, and sometimes more
than others. " Florence " was taller than her medium, and
a very beautiful woman. " Lenore " was much shorter
and smaller, and not so pretty, but more vivacious and
pert. By the invitation of Mrs. Macdougal Gregory, I
attended several seafices with Miss Showers at her resi-
dence in Green Street, when these spirits appeared.
THERE IS NO DEATH. iii
" Lenore " was fond of saying that she wouldn't or couldn't
come out unless / held her hand, or put my arm round her
waist. To tell the truth, I didn't care for the distinction,
for this influence was very peculiar in some things, and to
me she always appeared " uncanny," and to leave an un-
pleasant feeling behind her. She was seldom completely
formed, and would hold up a foot which felt like wet clay,
and had no toes to it, or not the proper quantity. On
occasions, too, there was a charnel-house smell about her,
as if she had been buried a few weeks and dug up again,
an odor which I have never smelt from any materialized
spirit before or after. One evening at Mrs. Gregory's,
when " Lenore " had insisted upon walking round the
circle supported by my arm, I nearly fainted from the
smell. It resembled nothing but that of a putrid corpse,
and when she returned to the cabinet, I was compelled to
leave the room and retch from the nausea it had caused
me. It was on this occasion that the sitters called
"Lenore " so many times back into the circle, that all the
power was gone, and she was in danger of melting away
before their eyes. Still they entreated her to remain with
them a little longer. At last she grew impatient, and
complained to me of their unreasonableness. She was then
raised from the floor — actually floating just outside the
curtain — and she asked me to put my hands up her skirts
and convince myself that she was half-dematerialized. I
did as she told me, and felt that she had no legs, although
she had been walkmg round the room a few minutes before.
I could feel nothing but the trunk of a body, which was
completely lifted off the ground. Her voice, too, had
grown faint and her face indistinct, and in another moment
she had totally disappeared.
One evening at Mrs. Gregory's, after the seance
was concluded, " Florence " looked round the cur-
tain and called to me to come inside of it. I did so
and found myself in total darkness. I said, " What's
the good of my coming here ? I can't see anything."
" Florence " took me by one hand, and answered, " I will
lead you ! Don't be afraid." Then some one else grasped
my other hand, and " Peter's " voice said, " We've got you
safe. We want you to feel the medium." The two figures
led me between them to the sofa on which Miss Showers was
lying. They passed my hand all over her head and body.
112 THERE IS NO DEATH.
I felt, as before, her hands and feet shrunk to half their
usual size, but her heart appeared to have become propor-
tionately increased. When my hand was placed upon it,
it was leaping up and down violently, and felt like a rabbit
or some other live animal bounding in her bosom. Her
brain was burning as before, but her extremities were icy
cold. There was no doubt at all of the abnormal condi-
tion into which the medium had been thrown, in order to
produce these strong physical manifestations which were
borrowed, for the time being, from her life, and could
never (so they informed me) put the whole of what they
borrowed back again. This seems to account for the in-
variable deterioration of health and strength that follows
physical manifestations in both sexes. These were the
grounds alone on which they explained to me the fact that,
on several occasions, when the materialized spirit has
been violently seized and held apart from the medium, it
has been found to have become, or been changed into the
medium, and always with injury to the latter — as in the
case of Florence Cook being seized by Mr. Volckman and
Sir George Sitwell. Mr. Volckman concluded because
when he seized the spirit " Katie King," he found he was
holding Florence Cook, that the latter must have imper-
sonated the former; yet I shall tell you in iis proper
place how I have sat in the same room with " Katie
King," whilst Miss Cook lay in a trance between us. The
medium nearly lost her life on the occasion alluded to,
from the sudden disturbance of the mysterious link that
bound her to the spirit. I have had it from the lips of the
Countess of Caithness, who was one of the sitters, and
stayed with Miss Cook till she was better, that she was in
convulsions the whole night after, and that it was some
time before they believed she would recover. If a medium
could simulate a materialized spirit, it is hardly likely that
she would (or could) simulate convulsions with a medical
man standing by her bedside. " You see," said Miss
Showers' " Florence," whilst pointing out to me the de-
creased size of her medium under trance, " that * Rosie ' is
half her usual size and weight, /have borrowed the other
half from her, which, combined with contributions from the
sitters, goes to make up the body in which I shew myself
to you. If you seize and hold me tight, you are holding
her, /.^,, half of her, and you increase the action of the
THERE IS NO DEATH. 113
vital half to such a degree that, if the two halves did not
reunite, you would kill her. You see that I can detach
certain particles from her organism for my own use, and
when I deniaterialize, I restore these particles to her, and
she becomes once more her normal size. You only hurry
the reunion by violently detaining me, so as to injure her.
But you might drive her mad, or kill her in the attempt,
because the particles of brain, or body, might become in-
jured by such a violent collision. If you believe I can take
them from her (as you see I do) in order to render my in-
visible body visible to you, why can't you believe I can
make them fly together again on the approach of danger.
And granted the one power, I see no difficulty in acknow-
ledging the other."
One day Mrs. Showers invited me to assist at a
sea?ice to be given expressly for friends living at a dis-
tance. When I reached the house, however, I found
the friends were unable to be present, and the meeting
was adjourned. Mrs. Showers apologized for the altera-
tion of plan, but I was glad of it. I had often sat with
*' Rosie " in company with others, and I wanted to sit with
her quite alone, or rather to sit with her in a room quite
alone, and see what would spontaneously occur, without
any solicitation on our parts. We accordingly annexed the
drawing-room for our sole use — locked the door, extin-
guished ♦^^he lights, and sat down on a sofa side by side, with
our arms round each other. The manifestations that followed
were not all nice ones. They formed an experience to be
passed through once, but not willingly repeated, and I
should not relate them here, excepting that they afford so
strong a proof that they were produced by a power outside
and entirely distinct from our own — a power, which having
once called into action, we had no means of repressing.
We had sat in the dark for some minutes, without hearing
or seeing anything, when I thoughtlessly called out,
"Now, Peter, do your worst," and extending my arms,
singing, " Come ! for my arms are empty." In a moment
a large, heavy figure fell with such force into my out-
stretched arms as to bruise my shoulder — it seemed like a
form made of wood or iron, rather than flesh and blood —
and the rough treatment that ensued for both of us is almost
beyond description. It seemed as if the room were filled
with materialized creatures, who were determined to let us
8
114 THERE IS NO DEATH.
know they were not to be trifled with. Our faces and
hands were slapped, our hair pulled down, and our clothes
nearly torn off our backs. My silk skirt being separate
from the bodice was torn off at the waistband, and the
trimming ripped from it, and Miss Showers' muslin dress
was also much damaged. We were both thoroughly
frightened, but no expostulations or entreaties had any
effect with our tormentors. At the same time we heard
the sound as of a multitude of large birds or bats swooping
about the room." The fluttering of wings was incessant,
and we could hear them " scrooping " up and down the
walls. In the midst of the confusion, " Rosie " was
whisked out of my arms (for fright had made us cling
tighter than ever together) and planted on the top of a
table at some distance from me, at which she was so
frightened she began to cry, and I called out, " Powles,
where are you ? Can't you stop them ? " My appeal was
heard. Peter's voice exclaimed, " Hullo ! here's Powles
coming !" and all the noise ceased. We heard the advent
of my friend, and in another moment he was smoothing
down the ruffled hair and arranging the disordered dresses
and telling me to light the gas and not be frightened. As
soon as I could I obeyed his directions and found Rosie
sitting doubled up in the centre of the table, but the rest
of the room and furniture in its usual condition. " Peter "
and his noisy crowd had vanished — so had " Powles," and
there was nothing but our torn skirts and untidy appear-
ance to prove that we had not been having an unholy
dream. " Peter " is not a wicked spirit — far from it —
but he is a very earthly and frivolous one. But when we
consider that nine-tenths of the spirits freed from the
flesh are both earthly and frivolous (if not worse), I know
not what right we have to expect to receive back angels in
their stead.
At one time when my sister Blanche (who was
very sceptical as to the possibility of the occurrences
I related having taken place before me) was staying in my
house at Bayswater, I asked Miss Showers if she would
give us a stance in my own home, to which she kindly as-
sented. This was an unusual concession on her part,
because, in consequence of several accidents and scandals
that had occurred from media being forcibly detained (as
I have just alluded to), her mother was naturally averse to
THERE IS NO DEATH. 115
her sitting anywhere but in their own circle. However, on
my promising to invite no strangers, Mrs. Showers herself
brought her daughter to my house. We had made no
preparation for the seance except by opening part of the
folding doors between the dining-room and study, and
hanging a curtain over the aperture. But I had carefully
locked the door of the study, so that there should be no
egress from it excepting through the dining-room, and had
placed against the locked door a heavy writing-table laden
with books and ornaments to make " assurance doubly
sure." We sat first in the drawing-room above, where
there was a piano. The lights were extinguished, and
Miss Showers sat down to the instrument and played the
accompaniment to a very simple melody, " Under tlie
willow she's sleeping." Four voices, sometimes alone and
sometimes all together, accompanied her own. One was a
baritone, supposed to proceed from " Peter," the second,
a soprano, from " Lenore." The third was a rumbling
bass, from an influejice who called himself "The Vicar of
Croydon," and sung in a fat, unctuous, and conceited voice ;
and the fourth was a cracked and quavering treble, from
another spirit called " The Abbess." These were the
voices, Mrs. Showers told me, that first followed her daugh-
ter about the house in Devonshire, and gained her such
an unenviable notoriety there. The four voices were per-
fectly distinct from one another, and sometimes blended
most ludicrously and tripped each other up in a way which
made the song a medley — upon which each one would
declare it was the fault of the other. " The Vicar of Croy-
don " always required a great deal of solicitation before he
could be induced to exhibit his powers, but having once
commenced, it was difficult to make him leave off" again,
whereas " The Abbess " was always complaining that they
would not allow her to sing the solos. An infant's voice
also sung some baby songs in a sweet childish treble, but
she was also very shy and seldom was heard, in comparison
with the rest. " All ventriloquism ! " I hear some reader
cry. If so, Miss Showers ought to have made a fortune in
exhibiting her talent in public. I have heard the best
ventriloquists in the world, but I never heard one who
could produce _/i77;r voices at the same time.
After the musical portion of the stance was over, we
descended to the dining-room, where the gas was burning,
Il6 THERE IS NO DEATH.
and the medium passed through it to the secured study,
where a mattress was laid upon the floor for her accommo-
dation. " Florence " was the first to appear, tall and
beautiful in appearance, and with upraised eyes like a nun.
She measured her height against the wall with me, and we
found she was the taller of the two by a couple of inches, —
my height being five feet six, the medium's five feet, and
the si:)irit's five feet eight, an abnormal height for a woman.
" Lenore " came next, very short indeed, looking like a
child of four or six, but she grew before our eyes, until her
head was on a level with mine. She begged us all to
observe that she had 7iot got on " Rosie's " petticoat body.
She said she had borrowed it on one occasion, and Mrs.
Showers had recognized it, and slipped upstairs in the
middle of the seance and found it missing from her
daughter's chest of drawers, and that she had been so
angry in consequence (fearing Rosie's honor might be
impeached) that she said if " Lenore " did not promise
never to do so again, she should not be allowed to assist
at the seafices at all. So Miss " Lenore," in rather a pert
and defiant mood, begged Mrs. Showers to see that what
she wore was her own property, and not that of the medium.
She was succeeded on that occasion by a strange being,
totally different from the other two, who called herself
" Sally," and said she had been a cook. She was one of
those extraordinary influences for whose return to earth one
can hardly account ; quick, and clever, and amusing as she
could be, but with an unrefined wit and manner, and to all
appearance, more earthly-minded than ourselves. But do
we not often ask the same question with respect to those
still existent here below ? What were they born for ?
What good do they do ? Why were they ever permitted
to come ? God, without whose permission nothing happens,
alone can answer it.
We had often to tease " Peter " to materialize and show
himself, but he invariably refused, or postponed the work to
another occasion. His excuse was that the medium being
so small, he could not obtain sufficient power from her to
make himself appear as a big man, and he didn't like to
come, " looking like a girl in a billycock hat." " I came
once to Mrs. Showers," he said, " and she declared I was
* Rosie ' dressed up, and so I have resolved never to show
myself again." At the close of that seance, however,
THERE IS NO DEATH. Wj
" Peter " asked me to go into the study and see him wake
the medium. When I entered it and made my way up to
the mattress, I found Miss Showers extended on it in a
deep sleep, whilst ** Peter," materiah'zed, sat at her feet.
He made me sit down next to him and take his hand and
feel his features with my own hand. Then he proceeded
to rouse " Rosie " by shaking her and calling her by name,
holding me by one hand, as he did so. As Miss Showers
yawned and woke up from her trance, the hand slipped
from mine, and " Peter " evaporated. When she sat up I
said to her gently, " I am here ! Peter brought me in and
was sitting on the mattress by my side till just this mo-
ment." " Ha, ha ! " laughed his voice close to my ear,
" and I'm here still, my dears, though you can't see me."
Who can account for such things ? I have witnessed
them over and over again, yet I am unable, even to this
day, to do more than believe and wonder.
Il8 THERE IS NO DEATH.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE MEDIUMSHIP OF WILLIAM EGLINTON.
In the stories I have related of" Emily " and " The Monk "
I have alluded freely to the wonderful powers exhibited by
William Eglinton, but the marvels there spoken of were by
no means the only ones I have witnessed through his
mediumship. At the seance which produced the appari-
tion of my sister Emily, Mr. Eglinton's control "Joey"
made himself very familiar. " Joey " is a remarkably small
man — perhaps two-thirds lighter in weight than the me-
dium — and looks more like a little jockey than anything
else, though he says he was a clown whilst in this world,
and claims to be the spirit of the immortal Joe Grimaldi.
He has always appeared to us clothed in a tight-fitting
white dress like a woven jersey suit, which makes him look
still smaller than he is. He usually keeps up a continuous
chatter, whether visible or invisible, and is one of the
cleverest and kindest controls I know. He is also very
devotional, for which the public will perhaps give him as
little credit now as they did whilst he was on earth. On
the first occasion of our meeting in the Russell Street
Rooms he did not show himself until quite the last, but he
talked incessantly of and for the other spirits that appeared.
My sister was, as I have said, the first to show herself —
then came an extraordinary apparition. On the floor, about
three feet from the cabinet, appeared a head — only the
head and throat of a dark man, with black beard and
moustaches, surmounted by the white turban usually worn
by natives. It did not speak, but the eyes rolled and the
lips moved, as if it tried to articulate, but without success.
" Joey " said the spirit came for Colonel Lean, and was
that of a foreigner who had been decapitated. Colonel
Lean could not recognize the features ; but, strange to say,
he had been present at the beheading of two natives in
Japan who had been found guilty of murdering some Eng-
lish oflScers, and we concluded from " Joey's " description
THERE IS NO DEATH. 119
that this must be the head of one of them. I knelt down
on the floor and put my face on a level with that of the
spirit, that I might assure myself there was no body
attached to it and concealed by the curtain of the cabinet,
and I can affirm that it was a head only, resting on the
neck — that its eyes moved and its features worked, but
that there was nothing further on the floor. I questioned
it, and it evidently tried hard to speak in return. The
mouth opened and the tongue was thrust out, and made a
sort of dumb sound, but was unable to form any words,
and after a while the head sunk through the floor and dis-
appeared. If this was not one of the pleasantest appari-
tions I have seen, it was one of the most remarkable.
There was no possibility of trickery or deception. The
decapitated head rested in full sight of the audience, and
had all the peculiarities of the native appearance and ex-
pression. After this the figures of two or three English-
men came, friends of others of the audience — then "Joey "
said he would teach us how to " make muslin." He walked
riglit outside the cabinet, a quaint little figure, not much
bigger than a boy of twelve or thirteen, with a young, old
face, and dressed in the white suit I have described. He
sat down by me and commenced to toss his hands in the
air, as though he were juggling with balls, saying the
while, " This is the way we make ladies' dresses." As he
did so, a small quantity of muslin appeared in his hands,
which he kept on moving in the same manner, whilst the
flimsy fabric increased and increased before our eyes, until
it rose in billows of muslin above *' Joey's " head and fell
over his body to his feet, and enveloped him until he was
completely hidden from view. He kept on chattering till
the last moment from under the heap of snowy muslin,
telling us to be sure and " remember how he made ladies'
dresses " — when, all of a sudden, in the twinkling of an eye,
the heap of muslin rose into the air, and before us stood
the tall figure of " Abdullah," Mr. Eglinton's Eastern guide.
There had been no darkness, no pause to effect this change.
The muslin had remained on the spot where it was fabri-
cated until "Joey " evaporated, and "Abdullah" rose up
from beneath it. Now " Abdullah " is not a spirit to be
concealed easily. He is six foot two — a great height for
a native — and his high turban adds to his stature. He is
a very handsome man, with an aquiline nose and bright
I20 THERE IS NO DEATH.
black eyes — a Persian, I believe, by birth, and naturally
dark in complexion. He does not speak English, but
" salaams " continually, and will approach the sitters when
requested, and let them examine the jewels, of which he
wears a large quantity in his turban and ears and round
his throat, or to show them and let them feel that he has
lost one arm, the stump being plainly discernible through
his thin clothing. " Abdullah " possesses all the character-
istics of the Eastern nation, which are unmistakable to one
who, like myself, has been familiar with them in the flesh.
His features are without doubt those of a Persian; so is
his complexion. His figure is long and lithe and supple,
as that of a cat, and he can bend to the ground and rise
again with the utmost ease and grace. Anybody who could
pretend for a moment to suppose that Mr. Eglinton by
" making up " could personate " Abdullah " must be a fool.
It would be an impossibility, even were he given unlimited
time and assistance, to dress for the character. There is a
peculiar boneless elasticity in the movements of a native
which those who have lived in tlie East know that no Eng-
lishmen can imitate successfully. " Abdullah's "hand and
feet also possess all the characteristics of liis nationality,
being narrow, long and nerveless, although I have heard
that he can give rather too good a grip with his one hand
when he chooses to exert his power or to show his dislike
to any particular sitter. He has always, however, shown
the utmost urbanity towards us, but he is not a particu-
larly friendly or familiar spirit. When "Abdullah" had
retired on this occasion, " Joey " drew back the curtain
that shaded the cabinet, and showed us his medium and
himself. There sat Mr. Eglinton attired in evening dress,
with the front of his shirt as smooth and spotless as when
it left the laundress' hands, lying back in his chair in a
deep sleep, whilst little Joey sat astride his knee, his white
suit contrasting strangely with his medium's black trousers.
Whilst in this position he kissed Mr. Eglinton several
times, telling him to wake up, and not look so sulky ; then,
having asked if we all saw him distinctly, and were satisfied
he was not the medium, he bade God bless us, and the
curtains closed once more upon this incomprehensible
scene. Mr. Eglinton subsequently became an intimate
friend of ours, and we often had the pleasure of sitting
with him, but we never saw anything more wonderful (to
THERE IS NO DEATH. 121
my mind) than we did on our first acquaintance. When
he accompanied us to Bruges (as told in the history of the
"Monk"), "Joey" took great trouble to prove to us in-
controvertibly that he is not an " emanation," or double,
of his medium, but a creature completely separate and
wholly distinct. My sister's house being built on a very
old-fashioned principle, had all the bedrooms communica-
ting with each other. The entresol in which we usually
assembled formed the connecting link to a series of six
chambers, all of which opened into each other, and the
entrance to the first and last of which was from the
entresol.
We put Mr. Eglinton into No. i, locking the connecting
door with No. 2, so that he had no e.xit except into our
circle as we sat round the curtain, behind which we placed
his chair. "Joey " having shown himself outside the cur-
tain, informed us he was going through the locked door at
the back into our bedrooms, Nos. 2, 3 and 4, and would
bring us something from each room.
Accordingly, in another minute we heard his voice in No.
2, commenting on all he saw there ; then he passed into
No. 3, and so on, making a tour of the rooms, until he
appeared at the communicating door of No. 5, and threw
an article taken from each room into the entresol. He
then told us to lift the curtain and inspect the medium,
which we did, finding him fast asleep in his chair, with the
door behind him locked. "Joey" then returned by the
way he had gone, and presented himself once more out-
side the cabinet, the key of the locked door being all the
time in our possession.
" Ernest " is another well-known control of Mr. Eglin-
ton's, though he seldom appears, except to give some mar-
vellous test or advice. He is a very earnest, deep-feeling
spirit, like his name, and his symbol is a cross of light ;
sometimes large and sometimes small, but always bright
and luminous. " Ernest" seldom shows his whole body.
It is generally only his face that is apparent in the midst
of the circle, a more convincing manifestation for the
sceptic or inquirer than any number of bodies which are
generally attributed to the chicanery of the medium.
" Ernest " always speaks in the direct voice in a gentle,
bass tone, entirely distinct from "Joey's " treble, and his
appearance is usually indicative of a harmonious and sue-
122 THERE IS- NO DEATH.
cessful meeting. " Dcaisy," a North American Indian girl,
is another control of William Eglinton's, but I have only
heard her speak in trance. I do not know which of these
spirits it is who conducts the manifestations of writing on
the arm, with which Mr. Eglinton is very successful ; some-
times it seems to be one, and sometimes the other. As he
was sitting with our family at supper one evening, I men-
tally asked "Joey"' to write something on some part of his
body where his hand could not reach. This was in order
to prove that the writing had not been prepared by chemi-
cal means beforehand, as some people are apt to assert.
In a short time Mr. Eglinton was observed to stop eating,
and grow very fidgety and look uncomfortable, and on
being questioned as to the cause, he blushed and stammered,
and could give no answer. After a while he rose from
table, and asked leave to retire to his room. The next
morning he told us that he had been so uneasy at supper,
it had become impossible for him to sit it out ; that on
reaching his room he had found that his back, which irri-
tated him as though covered with a rash, had a sentence
ivritteji across it, of which he could only make out a few
words by looking at it backwards in a glass ; and as there
were only ladies in the house beside himself, he could not
call in an interpreter to his assistance. One day, without
consulting him, I placed a small card and a tiny piece of
black lead between the leaves of a volume of the Leistcre
Hour, and asked him to hold the book with me on the
dining table. I never let the book out of my hand, and
it was so thick that I had difficulty afterwards in finding
my card (from the corner of which I had torn a piece)
again. Mr. Eglinton sat with me in the daylight with ihe
family about, and all he did was to place his hand on mine,
which rested on the book. The perspiration ran down his
face whilst he did so, but there was no other sign of power,
and, honestly, I did not expect to find any writing on my
card. When I had shaken it out of the leaves of the book,
however, I found a letter closely written on it from my
daughter " Florence " :o this effect : —
" Dear Mama, — I am so glad to be able to communicate with you
again, and to demonstrate by actual fact that I am really present. Of
course, you quite understand that I do not write this myself. ' Charlie '
is present witli me, and so are many more, and we all unite in sending
you our love.
*' Your daughter, Florencp."
THERE IS NO DEATH. 123
Mr. EgHnton's mediumship embraces various phases of
phenomena, as may be gathered from his own relations of
them, and the testimony of his friends. A narrative of his
spiritual work, under the title of " 'Twixt two Worlds,"
has been written and published by Mr. John T. Farmer,
and contains some exhaustive descriptions of, and testimo-
nies to, his undoubtedly wonderful gifts. In it appear
several accounts written by myself, and which, for the
benefit of such of my readers as have not seen the book in
question, I will repeat here. The first is that of the
" Monk," given in extenso, as I have given it in the ele-
venth chapter of tliis book. The second is of a seance\\t\d
on the 5th September, 1884. The circle consisted of Mr.
and Mrs. Stewart, Colonel and Mrs. Wynch, Mr. and Mrs.
Russell-Davies, Mr. Morgan, and Colonel Lean and my-
self, and was held in Mr. Eglinton's private chambers in
Quebec Street. We sat in the front drawing-room, with
one gas-burner alight, and the door having been properly
secured, Mr. Eglinton went into the back room, which
was divided by curtains from the front. He had not left us
a couple of minutes before a man stepped out through the
portiere, and walked right into the midst of us. He was
a large, stout man, and very dark, and most of the sitters
remarked that he had a very peculiar smell. No one
recognized him, and after appearing two or three times he
left, and was immediately succeeded by a woman, very
much like him, who also had to leave us without any recog-
nition. These two spirits, before taking a final leave, came
out together, and seemed to examine the circle curiously.
After a short interval a much smaller and slighter man
came forward, and darted in a peculiar slouching attitude
round the circle. Colonel Lean asked him to shake hands.
He replied by seizing his hand, and nearly dragging him off
his seat. He then darted across the room, and gave a
similar proof of his muscular power to Mr. Stewart. But
when I asked him to notice me, he took my hand and
squeezed it firmly between his own. He had scarcely
disappeared before " Abdullah," with his one arm and his
six feet two of height, stood before us, and salaamed all
round. Then came my daughter Florence, a girl of nine-
teen by that time, very slight and feminine in appearance.
She advanced two or three times, near enough to touch me
with her hand, but seemed fearful to approach nearer. But
124 THERE IS NO DEATH.
the next moment she returned, dragging ]\Ir. Eglinton after
her. He was in deep trance, breathing with difficulty, but
" Florence " held him by tlie hand and brought him up to
my side, when he detached my hands from those of the
sitters either side of me, and making me stand up, he
placed my daughter in my arms. As she stood folded in
my embrace, she whispered a few words to me relative to a
subject kfiotan to no one but myself, and she placed my
hand upon her heart, that I might feel she was a living
woman. Colonel Lean asked her to go to him. She tried
and failed, but having retreated behind the curtain to
gather strength, she appeared the second time with Mr.
Eglinton, and calling Colonel Lean to her, embraced him.
Tliis is one of the most perfect instances on record of a
spirit form being seen distinctly by ten witnesses with the
medium under gas. The next materialization that appeared
was for Mr. Stewart. This gentleman was newly arrived
from Australia, and a stranger to Mr. Eglinton. As soon
as he saw the female form, who beckoned him to \\\t por-
tiere to speak to her, he exclaimed, " My God ! Pauline,"
with such genuine surprise and conviction as were unmis-
takable. The spirit then whispered to him, and putting
her arms round his neck, affectionately kissed him. He
turned after a while, and addressing his wife, told her that
the spirit bore the very form and features of their niece
Pauline, whom they had lost the year before. Mr. Stewart
expressed himself entirely satisfied with the identity of his
niece, and said she looked just as she had done before she
was taken ill. I must not omit to say that the medium
also appeared with this figure, making the third time of
showing himself in one evening with the spirit form.
The next apparition, being the seventh that appeared, was
that of a little child apparently about two years old, who
supported itself in walking by holding on to a chair. I
stooped down, and tried to talk to this baby, but it only
cried in a fretful manner, as though frightened at finding
itself with strangers, and turned away. The attention of
the circle was diverted from this sight by seeing "Abdullah "
dart between tlie curtains, and stand with the child in our
view, whilst Mr. Eglinton appeared at the same moment
between the two forms, making a tria juncta in uno.
Thus ended the seance. The second one of which I
wrote took place on the 27th of the same month, and under
THERE IS NO DEATH. 125
very similar circumstances. The circle this time consisted
of Mrs. Wheeler, Mr. Woods, Mr. Gordon, The Honorable
Gordon Sandeman, my daughter Eva, my son Frank,
Colonel Lean, and myself. Mr. Eglinton appeared on this
occasion to find some difficulty in passing under control,
and he came out so frequently into the circle to gather
power, that I guessed we were going to have uncommonly
good manifestations. The voice of " Joey," too, begged us
under no circuvistances tvhatever, to lose hands, as they
were going to try something very difficult, and we might
defeat their efforts at the very moment of victory. When
the medium was at last under control in the back drawing
room, a tall man, with an uncovered Iiead of dark hair, and
a large beard, appeared and walked up to a lady in the
company. She was very much affected by the recognition
of the spirit, which she affirmed to be that of her brother.
She called him by name and kissed him, and informed us,
that he was just as he had been in earth life. Her emotion
was so great, we thought she would have fainted, but after
a while she became calm again. We next heard the notes
of a clarionet. I had been told that Mr. Woods (a stranger
just arrived from the Antipodes) had lost a brother under
peculiarly distressing circumstances, and that he hoped
(though hardly expected) to see his brother that evening.
It was the first time I had ever seen Mr. Woods ; yet so
remarkable was the likeness between the brothers, that
when a spirit appeared with a clarionet in his hand, I could
not help knowing who it was, and exclaimed, " Oh, Mr.
Woods, there is your brother ! " The figure walked up to
Mr. Woods and grasped his hand. As they appeared thus
with their faces turned to one another, they were striki7igly
alike both in feature and expression. This spirit's head was
also bare, an unusual occurrence, and covered with thick,
crisp hair. He appeared twice, and said distinctly, " God
bless you 1 " each time to his brother. Mrs. Wheeler, who
had known the spirit in earth life, was startled by the tone
of the voice, which she recognized at once ; and Mr. Mor-
gan, who had been an intimate friend of his in Australia,
confirmed the recognition. We asked Mr. Woods the
meaning of the clarionet, which was a black one, hand-
somely inlaid with silver. He told us his brother had been
an excellent musician, and had won a similar instrument
as a prize at some musical competition. " But," he added
126 THERE IS NO DEATH.
wonderingly, " his clarionet is locked up in my house in
Australia." My daughter " Florence " came out next, but
only a little way, at which I was disappointed, but "Joey"
said they were reserving the strength for a manifestation
further on. He then said, " Here comes a friend for Mr.
Sandeman," and a man, wearing the masonic badge and
scarf, appeared, and made the tour of tlie circle, giving the
masonic grip to those of the craft present. He was a good
looking young man, and said he had met some of those
present in Australia, but no one seemed to recognize him.
He was succeeded by a male figure, who had materialized
on the previous occasion. As he passed through the cur-
tain, a female figure appeared beside him^ bearing a very
bright light, as though to show him the way. She did not
come beyond i\\e.J>o}'tUre, but every one in the room saw
her distinctly. On account of the dress and complexion
of the male figure, we had wrongly christened him " The
Bedouin ; " but my son, Frank Marryat, who is a sailor, now
found out he was an East Indian by addressing him in
Hindustani, to which he responded in a low voice. Some
one asked him to take a seat amongst us, upon which he
seized a heavy chair in one hand and flourished it above
his head. He then squatted, native fashion, on his
haunches on the floor and left us, as before, by vanishing
suddenly.
" Joey " now announced that they were going to try the
experiment of " showing us how the spirits were tnade/rom
the tneditim." This was the crowning'triumph of the even-
ing. Mr. Eglinton appeared in the very midst of us in
trance. He entered the room backwards, and as if
fighting with the power that pushed him in, his eyes were
shut, and his breath was drawn with difficulty. As he
stood thus, holding on to a chair for support, an airy mass
like a cloud of tobacco smoke was seen on his left hip, his
legs became illuminated by lights travelling up and down
them, and a white film settled about his head and shoulders.
The mass increased, and he breathed harder and harder,
whilst invisible hands pulled the filmy drapery out of his
hip in long strips, that amalgamated as soon as formed,
and fell to the ground to be succeeded by others. The
cloud continued to grow thicker, and we were eagerly
watching the process, when, in the twinkling of an eye, the
mass had evaporated, and a spirit, full formed, stood beside
THERE IS NO DEATH. 127
him. No one could say how it had been raised .n tne very
midr,t of us, nor whence it came, but it teas there. Mr.
Eglinton then retired with the new-born spirit behind the
curtains, but m another moment he came (or he was thrown
out) amongst us again, and fell upon the floor. The cur-
tains opened again, and the full figure of " Ernest" ap-
peared and raised the medium by the hand. As he saw
him, Mr. Eglinton fell on his knees, and "Ernest" drew
him out of sight. Thus ended the second of these two
wonderful seances. The published reports of them were
signed with the full names and addresses of those who
witnessed them.
William Eglinton's powers embrace various phases of
phenomena, amongst which Icvitation is a common occur-
rence ; indeed, I do not think I have ever sat with him at
a seance during which he has not been levitated. I have
seen him on several occasions rise, or be carried, into the
air, so that his head touched the ceiling, and his feet were
above the sitters' heads. On one occasion whilst sitting
with him a perfectly new manifestation was developed. As
each spirit came the name was announced, written on the
air in letters of fire, which moved round the circle in front
of the sitters. As the names were those of friends of the
audience and not of friends of Mr. Eglinton, and the
phenomenon ended with a letter written to me in the same
manner on private affairs, it could not be attributed to a
previously arranged trick. I have accompanied Mr. Eglin-
ton, in the capacity of interpreter, to a professional seance
in Paris consisting of some forty persons, not one of whom
could speak a word of English whilst he was equally igno-
rant of forcigh languages. And I have heard French and
German spirits return through him to converse with their
friends, who were radiant with joy at communicating with
them again, whilst their medium could not (had he been
conscious) have understood or pronounced a single word
of all the news he was so glibly repeating. I will conclude
this testimony to his powers by the account of a sitting
with him for slate writing — that much abused and most
maligned manifestation. Because a few ignorant pig-
headed people who have never properly investigated the
science of Spiritualism decide that a thing cannot be,
" because it can't," men of honor and truth are voted char-
latans and tricksters, and those who believe in them fools
I2g THERE IS NO DEATH.
and blind. The day will dawn yet when it will be seen
wliich of the two classes best deserve tlie name.
Some years ago, when I first became connected in busi-
ness with Mr. Edgar Lee of the St. Stephen's Review, I
found him much interested in the subject of Spiritualism,
though lie had never had an opportunity of investigating
it, and through my introduction I procured him a test
seance with William Eglinton. We met one afternoon at
the medium's house in Nottingham Place for that purpose,
and sat at an ordinary table in the back dining-room for
slate-writing. The slate used on the occasion (as Mr. Lee
had neglected to bring his own slate as requested) was one
which was presented to Mr. Eglinton by Mr. Gladstone.
It consisted of two slates of medium size, set in mahogany
frames, with box hinges, and which, when shut, were
fastened with a Bramah lock and key. On the table cloth
was a collection of tiny pieces of different colored chalk.
In the front room, which was divided from us by folding
doors, were some bookcases. Mr. Eglinton commenced
by asking Mr. Lee to go into the front room by himself,
and select, in his mind's eye, any book he chose as the
one from which extracts should be given. Mr. Lee having
done as he was told, returned to his former place beside
us, without giving a hint as to which book he had selected.
Mr. Gladstone's slate was then delivered over to him to
clean with sponge and water ; that done, he was directed
to choose four pieces of chalk and place them between the
slates, to lock them and retain the key. The slates were
left on the table in the sight of all; Mr. Lee's hand
remained on them all the time. All that Mr. Eglinton did
was to place his hand above Mr. Lee's.
" You chose, I think," he commenced, " four morsels of
chalk — white, blue, yellow and red. Please say which word,
on which line, on which page of the book you selected just
now, the white chalk shall transcribe."
Mr. Lee answered (I forget the exact numbers) some-
what in this wise, " The 3rd word on the 15th line of the
102nd page," he having, it must be remembered, no
knowledge of the contents of the volume, which he had not
even touched with his hand. Immediately he had spoken,
a scratching noise was heard between the two slates. When
it ceased, Mr. Eglinton put the same question with regard
to the blue, yellow and red chalks, which was similarly
responded to. He then asked Mr. Lee to unlock the
THERE IS NO DEATH. 129
slates, read the words, and then fetch the book he had
selected, and compare notes, and in each instance the
word had been given correctly. Several other experiments
were then made, equally curious, the number of Mr. Lee's
watch, which he had not taken from his pocket, and which
he said he did not know himself, being amongst them.
Then Mr. Eglinton said to Mr. Lee, " Have you any friend
in the spirit-world from whom you would like to hear ? If
so, and you will mentally recall the name, we will try and
procure some writing from him or her." (I must say here
that these two were utter strangers to each other, and had
met for the first time that afternoon, and indeed [as will be
seen by the context] /had a very slight knowledge of Mr.
Edgar Lee myself at that time.) ^Ix. Lee thought for a
moment, and then replied that there was a dead friend of
his from whom he should like to hear. The cleaning and
locking process was gone through again, and the scratch-
ing re-commenced, and when it concluded, Mr. Lee un-
locked the slates and read a letter to this effect : —
"My Dear Will, — I am quite satisfied with your decision respect-
ing Bob. By all means, send him to the school you are thinking of.
He will get on better there. His education requires more pushing than
it gets at present. Thanks for all you have done for him. God bless
you. — ^Ycur affectionate cousin, R. Tasker."
I do not pretend to give the exact words of this letter ; for
though they were afterwards published, I have not a copy
by me. But the gist of the experiment does not lie in the
exactitude of the words. When I saw the slate, I looked
at Mr. Lee in astonishment.
"Who is it for?" I asked.
" It is all right," he replied ; " it is for me. It is from
my cousin, wlio left his boy in my charge. My real name
is William Tasker."
Now, I had never heard it hinted before that Edgar Lee
was only a nom de plume, and the announcement came on
me as a genuine surprise. So satisfied was Mr. William
Tasker Edgar Lee with his experimental sea?ice, that he
had the slate photographed and reproduced in the St.
Stephen's Review, w,iih an account of the whole proceed-
ings, which were sufficient to make any one stop for a
moment in the midst of the world's harassing duties and
think,
9
13© THERE IS NO DEATH.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE MEDIUMSHIP OF ARTHUR COLMAN.
Arthur Colman was so intimate a friend of Air. Eglin-
ton's, and so much associated with him in my thoughts in
the days wlien I first knew them both, that it seems only
natural that I should write of him next. His powers were
more confined to materialization than Eglinton's, but in
that he excelled. He is the most wonderful materializing
medium I ever met in England ; but of late years, owing
to the injury it did him in his profession, he has been com-
pelled, in justice to himself, to give up sitting for physical
manifestations, and, indeed, sitting at all, except to oblige
his friends. I cannot but consider this decision on his part
as a great public loss ; but until the public takes more
interest in the next world than they do in this, it will not
make it worth the while of such as Mr. Colman to devote
their lives, health and strength to their enlightenment. For
to be a good physical medium means literally to part, little
by little, with one's own life, and no man can be expected
to do so much for the love of a set of unbelievers and
sceptics, who will use up all his powers, and then go home
to call him a rogue and a cheat and a trickster. If, as I
am persuaded, each one of us is surrounded by the influ-
ences we gather of our own free-will about us — the loving
and noble-hearted by angels, the selfish and unbelieving
by devils — and we consider how the latter preponderate
over the former in this world, is it to be wondered at that
most seances 2l\q. conducted by an assemblage of evil spirits
brought there by the sitters themselves? Sceptical, blas-
phemous and sensual men and women collect together to
try and find out the falsehood, not the triith, of Spiritual-
ism, and are tricked by the very influences that attend
their footsteps and direct their daily lives ; and therein
lies the danger of Spiritualism as a pursuit, taken up out
of curiosity rather than a desire to learn. It gives in-
creased power to the evil that surrounds ourselves, and
THERE IS NO DEATH. 131
the devil that goes out of us returns with seven other
devils worse than himself, The drunkard, who, by giving
rein to a weakness which he knows he should resist, has
attracted to him the spirits of drunkards gone before, joins
a seance, and by the collaboration of forces, as it were,
bestows increased power on the guides he has chosen for
himself to lead him into greater evil. This dissertation,
however, called forth by the never-ceasing wonder I feel at
the indifference of the world towards such sights as I have
seen, has led me further than I intended from the subject
of my chapter.
Arthur Colman is a young man of delicate constitution
and appearance, who was at one time almost brought down
to death's door by the demands made by physical pheno-
mena upon his strength ; but since he has given up sitting,
he has regained his health, and looks quite a different
person. This fact proves of itself what a tax is laid upon
the unfortunate medium for such manifestations. Since he
has resolved, however, neval^^sit again, I am all the more
anxious to record what I have seen through him, probably
for the last time. When I first knew my husband Colonel
Lean, he had seen nothing of Spiritualism, and was pro-
portionately curious, and naturally a little sceptical on the
subject, or, rather let me say, incredulous. He was hardly
prepared to receive all the marvels I told him of without
proof; ^id Mr. Colman's guide, " Aimee," was very
anxious to convince him of their truth. She arranged,
tiierefore, a seance at which he was to be present, and which
was to be held at the house of Mr. and Mrs. George
Neville. The party dined there together previously, and
consisted only of Mr. and Mrs. Neville, Arthur Colman,
Colonel Lean, and myself. As we were in the drawing-
room, however, after dinner, and before we had commenced
the seance, an American lady, who was but slightly known
to any of us, was announced. We had particularly wished
to have no strangers present, and her advent proportion-
ately annoyed us, but we did not know on what excuse to
get rid of her. She was a pushing sort of person ; and
when Mrs. Neville told her we were going to hold a seance,
as a sort of hint that she miglit take her leave, it only
made her resolve to. stay; indeed, she declared she had
had a premonition of the fact. She said that whilst in her
own room that morning, a figure had appeared standing
132 THERE IS NO DEATH.
by her bed, dressed in blue and white, Uke the pictures of
the Virgin Mary, and that all day she had had an impres-
sion that she must spend the evening with the Nevilles,
and she should hear something more about it. We could
not get rid of the lady, so we were obliged to ask her to
remain and assist at the seafice, which she had already made
up her mind to do, so we commenced our preparations.
The two drawing-rooms communicated by folding doors,
which were opened, and vl portiere drawn across the open-
ing. In the back room we placed Mr. Colman's chair. He
was dressed in a light grey suit, which we secured in the
following manner : — His hands were first sewn inside the
sleeves of the coat, then his arms were placed behind his
back, and the coat sleeves sewn together to the elbow.
We then sewed his trouser legs together in the same way.
We then tied him round the throat, waist and legs with
white cotton, which the least movement on his part would
break, and the ends of each ligament were sealed to the
wall of the room with wa^ajjld stamped with my seal with
" JFlorence Marry at " on it. Considering him thus secure,
without ^x\y possibility of escape unless we discovered it,
we left him in the back room, and arranged ourselves on a
row of five chairs before the portiere in the front one,
which was lighted by a single gas-burner. I sat at the
head of the row, then the American lady, Mrs. Neville,
Colonel Lean and Mr. Neville. I am not sure ^ how long
we waited for the manifestations ; but I do not think it
was many minutes before a female figure glided from the
side of the curtain and took a vacant chair by my side.
I said, " Who is this .? " and she whispered, " Florence,'
and laid her head down on my shoulder, and kissed my
neck. I was turning towards her to distinguish her fea-
tures more fully, when I became aware that a second figure
was standing in front of me, and " Florence " said " Mother,
there is Powles ; " and at the same time, as he bent down
to speak to me, his beard touched my face. I had not
had time to draw the attention of my friends to the spirits
that stood by me, when I was startled by hearing one
exclamation after another from the various sitters. The
American lady called out, " There's the woman that came
to me this morning." Mr. Neville said, " That is my
father," and Colonel Lean was asking some one if he would
not give his name, I looked down the line of sitters. Be-
THERE IS NO DEATH. 133
fore Colonel Lean there stood an old man with a long,
white beard ; a somewhat similar figure was in front of
Mr. Neville. Before the dark curtain appeared a woman
dressed in blue and white, like a nun ; and meanwhile,
" Florence " and " Powles " still maintained their station
by my side. As if this were not enough of itself to turn a
mortal's brain, ih^ portiere was at the same moment drawn
aside, and there stood Arthur Colman in his grey suit,
freed from all his bonds, but under the control of " Aimee,"
who called out joyously to my husband; " Now, Frank,
wiil you believe ?" She dropped the curtain, the appari-
tions glided or faded away, and we passed into the back
drawing-room, to find Mr. Colman still in trance, just as
we had left him, and with ail the seals and stitches intact.
Not a thread of them all was broken. This is the largest
number of spirits I have ever seen at one time with one
medium. I have seen two materialized spirits at a time,
and even three, from Mr. Williams and Miss Siiowers and
Katie Cook ; but on this occasion there were five apparent
with the medium, all standing together before us. And
this is the sort of thing that the majority of people do not
consider it worth their while to take a little trouble to see.
I have already related how successfully " Florence" used
to materialize through this medium, and numerous friends,
utterly unknown to him, have revisited us through his
means. His trance mediumship is as wonderful as his
physical phenomena ; some people might think more so.
Amongst others, two spirits have come back to us through
Mr. Colman, neither of whom he knew in this life, and both
of whom are, in their way, too characteristic to be mistaken.
One is Phillis Glover the actress ; the other my stepson,
Francis Lean, who was drowned by an accident at sea.
Phillis Glover was a woman who led a very eventful life,
chiefly in America, and was a versatile genius in conversa-
tion, as in everything else. She was peculiar also, and had
a half- Yankee way of talking, and a store of familiar say-
ings and anecdotes, which she constantly introduced into
her conversation. She was by no means an ordinary per-
son whilst in this life, and in order to imitate her manner
and speech succssefully, one would need to be as clever
a person as herself And, without wishing to derogate
from the powers of Mr. Colman's mind, he knows, and I
know, that Phillis Glover was cleverer than either of us,
134 THERE IS NO DEATH.
When her influence or spirit therefore returns through him,
it is quite unmistakable. It is not only that she retains
all her little tricks of voice and feature and manner (which
]\Ir. Colman has never seen), but she alludes to circum-
stances that took place in this life and people she was
associated with here that he has never heard of. ISlorc,
she will relate her old stories and anecdotes, and sing her
old songs, and give the most incontrovertible tests of her
identity, even to recalling facts and incidents that have
entirely passed from our minds. When she appears through
him, it is Phillis Glover we are sitting with again and talk-
ing with, as familiarly as we did in the days gone by.
" Francis," in his way too, is quite as remarkable. The
circumstances of his death and the events leading to it
were unknown to us, till he related them through Mr.
Colman ; and he speaks to us of the contents of private
letters, and repeats conversations and alludes to circum-
stances and names that are known only to him and our-
selves. He had a peculiar manner also — quick and nervous
— and a way of cutting his words short, which his spirit
preserves to the smallest particular, and which furnish the
strongest proofs possible of his identity to those who knew
him here below. But these are but a very few amongst
the innumerable tests furnished by Arthur Colman's
occult powers of the assured possibility of communicating
with the spirits of those gone before us.
THERE IS NO DEATH. 13$
CHAPTER XV.
THE MEDIUMSHIP OF MRS. GUPPY VOLCKMAN.
The mediumship of this lady is so well known, and has
been so universally attested, that nothing I can write of
could possibly add to her fame ; and as I made her ac-
quaintance but a short time before she relinquished silting
for manifestations, I have had but little experience of her
powers, but such as I enjoyed were very remarkable. I
have alluded to them in the story of " The Green Lady,"
wliose apparition was due solely to Mrs. Guppy Volck-
man's presence, and on that occasion she gave us another
wonderful proof of her mediumship. A sheet was pro-
cured and held up at either end by jMr. Ciiarles Williams
and herself. It was held in the light, in the centre of the
room, forming a white wall of about five feet high, i.e., as
high as their arms could conveniently reach. Both the
hands of Mrs. Volckman and Mr. Williams were placed
outside the sheet, so that no trickery might be suspected
through their being concealed. In a short time the head
of a woman appeared above the sheet, followed by that of
a man, and various pairs of hands, both large and small,
which bobbed up and down, and seized the hands of the
spectators, whilst the faces went close to the media, as if
with the intention of kissing them. This frightened Mrs.
Volckman, so that she frequently screamed and dropped
her end of the sheet, which, had there been any deception,
must inevitably have e^j^osed it. It seemed to make no
difference to the spirits, however, who reappeared directly
they had the opportunity, and made her at last so nervous
that she threw the sheet down and refused to hold it any
more. The faces were life-size, and could move their eyes
and lips ; the hands were some as large as a man's, and
covered with hair, and others like those of a woman or
child. They had all the capability of working the fingers
and grasping objects presented to them ; whilst the four
hands belonging to the media were kept in sight of the
136 THERE IS NO DEATH.
audience, and could not have worked machinery even if
they could have concealed it.
The first time I was introduced to Mrs. Volckman
(then IMrs. Guppy) was at a seatice at her own house
in Victoria Road, where she had assembled a large
party of guests, including several names well known
in art and literature. We sat in a well-lighted drawing-
room, and the party was so large that the circle round
the table was three deep. Mrs. Mary Hardy, the
American medium (since dead), was present, and the
honors of the manifestations may be therefore, I conclude,
divided between the two ladies. The table, a common
deal one, made for such occasions, with a round hole of
about twenty inches in diameter in the middle of it, was
covered with a cloth that hung down, and was nailed to
the ground, leaving only the aperture free. (I must pre-
mise that this cloth had been nailed down by a committee
of the gentlemen visitors, in order that there might be no
suspicion of a confederate hidden underneath it.) We
then sat round the table, but without placing our hands on
it. In a short time hands began to appear through the
open space in the table, all sorts of hands, from the
woman's taper fingers and the baby's dimpled fist, to the
hands of old and young men, wrinkled or muscular. Some
of the hands had rings on the fingers, by which the sitters
recognized them, some stretched themselves out to be
grasped ; and some appeared in pairs, clasped together or
separate. One hand took a glove from a sitter and put it
on the other, showing the muscular force it possessed by
the way in which it pressed down each finger and then
buttoned the glove. Another pair of hands talked through
the dumb alphabet to us, and a third played on a musical
instrument. I was leaning forward, before I had witnessed
the above, peering inquisitively dqpn the hole, and saying,
" 1 wonder if they would have strength to take anything
down witli them," when a large hand suddenly appeared
and very nearly took me down, by seizing my nose as if it
never meant to let go again. At all events, it took me a peg
or two down, for I remember it brought the tears into my
eyes with the force it exhibited. After the hands had
ceased to appear, the table was moved away, and we sat
in a circle in the light. Mrs. Guppy did not wish to take
a part in the seance, except as a spectator, so she retired
THERE IS NO DEATH. 137
to the back drawing-room with the Baroness Adelma Vay
and other visitors, and left Mrs. Hardy with the circle in
the front. Suddenly, however, she was levitated and car-
ried in the sight of us all into the midst of our circle. As
she felt herself rising in the air, she called out, " Don't
let go hands for Heaven's sake." We were standing in a
ring, and I had hold of the hand of Prince Albert of Solms.
As Mrs. Gupyy came sailing over our heads, her feet caught
his neck and mine, and in our anxiety to do as she had told
us, we gripped tight hold of each other, and were thrown
forward on our knees by the force with which she was car-
ried past us into the centre. This was a pretty strong
proof to us, whatever it may be to others, that our senses
did not deceive us when we thought we saw Mrs. Guppy
over our heads in the air. The influence that levitated her,
moreover, placed her on a chair with such a bump that it
broke the two front legs off. As soon as Mrs. Guppy had
rejoined us, the order was given to put out the light and to
wish for something. We unanimously asked for flowers, it
being the middle of December, and a hard frost. Simul-
taneously we smelt the smell of fresh earth, and were told
to light the gas again, when the following extraordinary
sight met our view. In the middle of the sitters, still hold-
ing hands, was piled up oti the carpet an immense quantity
of mould, which had been torn up apparently with the
roots that accompanied it. There were laurestinus, and
laurels, and holly, and several others, just as they had been
pulled oif£ of the earth and thrown down in the midst of us.
!Mrs. Guppy looked anything but pleased at the state of
her carpel, and begged the spirits would bring something
cleaner next time. They then told us to extinguish the
lights again, and each sitter was to wish mentally for some-
thing for himself. I wished for a yellow butterfly, know-
ing it was December f* and as I thought of it, a little card-
board box was put into my hand. Prince Albert whispered
to me, ■' Have you got anything ? " " Yes/' I said ; " but
not what I asked for. I expeot they have given me a
piece of jewellery." When the gas was re-lit, I opened the
\)0-s.^ zxid. \\\Qx&\z.y two yellow butterflies ; dead, of course,
but none the less extraordinary for that, I wore at that
siance a tight-fitting, high white muslin dress, over a tight
petticoat body. The dress had no pocket, and I carried
my handkerchief, a fine cambric one, in my hand. When
138 THERE IS NO DEATH.
the siance was over, I found this handkerchief had dis-
appeared, at which I was vexed, as it had been embroid-
ered for me by my sister Emily, then dead. I inquired of
every sitter it they had seen it, even making them turn out
their pockets in case they had taken it in mistake for their
own, but it was not to be found, and I returned home, as I
thought, without it. What was my surprise on removing my
dress and petticoat bodice to find the handkerchief, neatly
folded into a square of about four inches, between my stays
and the garment beneath them ; placed, moreover, over the
smallest part of my waist, where no fingers could have
penetrated even had my dress been loose. My woman
readers may be able better than the men to appreciate the
difficulty of such a manoeuvre by mortal means ; indeed it
would have been quite impossible for myself or anybody
else to place the handkerchief in such a position without
removing the stays. And it was folded so neatly also, and
placed so smoothly, that there was not a crumple in the
cambric.
THERE IS NO DEATH. 139
CHAPTER XVr.
THE MEDIUMSHIP OF FLORENCE COOK.
In writing of my own mediumship, or the mediumship of
any other person, I wish it particularly to be understood
that I do not intend my narrative to -be, by any means^ an
account oi all seances\\€[^ under that control (for were I
to include everything that I have seen and heard during my
researches into Spiritualism, this volume would swell to
unconscionable dimensions), but only of certain events
which I believe to be remarkable, and not enjoyed by
every one in like measure. Most people have read of the
ordinary phenomena that take place at such meetings. My
readers, therefore, will find no description here of marvels
which — whether true or false — can be accounted for upon
natural grounds. Miss Florence Cook, now Mrs. Elgie
Corner, is one of the media who have been most talked of
and written about. W.x. Alfred Crookes took an immense
interest in her, and published a long account of his investi-
gation of Spiritualism under her mediumship. Mr. Henry
Dunphy, of the Morning Post, wrote a series of papers for
London Society (of which magazine I was then the editor),
describing her powers, and the proof she gave of them.
The first time I ever met Florence Cook was in his private
house, when my little daughter appeared through her [vide
" The Story of my Spirit Child"). On that occasion, as
we were sitting at supper after the seance — a party of per-
haps thirty people — the whole dinner-table, with every-
thing upon it, rose bodily in the air to a level with our
knees, and the dishes and glasses swayed about in a peril-
ous manner, without, however, coming to any permanent
harm. I was so much astonished at, and interested by,
what I aaw that evening, that I became most anxious to
make the personal acquaintance of Miss Cook. She was
the medium for the celebrated spirit, " Katie King," of
whom so much has been believed and disbelieved, and the
siances she gave at her parents' house in Hackney for the
140 THERE IS NO DEATH.
purpose of seeing this figure alone used to be crowded by
the cleverest and most scientific men of the day, Sergeants
Cox and Ballantyne, Mr. S. C. Hall, Mr. Alfred Crookes,
and many others, being on terms of the greatest intimacy
with her. Mr. William Harrison, of the ^/^/r/V/^aZ/j/paper,
was the one to procure me an introduction to the family
and an entrance to the seances, for which I shall always feel
grateful to him.
For the benefit of the uninitiated, let me begin by
telling zuho " Katie King " was supposed to be. Her
account of herself was that her name was " Annie
Owens ]\Iorgan;" that she was the daughter of Sir Henry
Morgan, a famous buccaneer who lived about the time of
the Commonwealth, and suffered death upon the high seas,
being, in fact, a pirate ; that she herself was about twelve
years old when Charles the First was beheaded ; that she
married and had two little children \ that she committed
more crimes than we should like to hear of, having mur-
dered men with her own hands, but yet died quite young, at
about two or three and twenty. To all questions concern-
ing the reason of her reappearance on earth, she returned
but one answer, That it was part of the work given her to
do to convince the world of the truth of Spiritualism. This
was the information I received from her own lips. She had
appeared to the Cooks some years before I saw her, and
had become so much one of the family as to walk about
the house at all times without alarming the inmates. She
often materialized and got into bed with her medium at
night, much to Florrie's annoyance ; and after Miss Cook's
marriage to Captain Corner, he told me himself that he
used to feel at first as if he had married two women, and
was not quite sure which was his wife of the two.
The order of these seances was always the same. Miss
Cook retired to a back room, divided from the audience by
a thin damask curtain, and presently the form of " Katie
King " would appear dressed in white, and walk out
amongst the sitters in gaslight, and talk like one of them-
selves. Florence Cook (as I mentioned before) is a very
small, slight brunette, with dark eyes and dark curly hair
and a delicate aquiline nose. Sometimes " Katie " re-
sembled her exactly ; at others, she was totally different.
Sometimes, too, she measured the same height as her me-
dium ; at others, she was much taller. I have a large photo-
THERE IS NO DEATH. 141
graph of" Katie " taken under limelight. In it she appears
as the double of Florrie Cook, yet Florrie was looking on
whilst the picture was taken, I have sat for her several times
with Mr. Crookes, and seen the tests applied which are men-
tioned in his book on the subject. I have seen Florrie's
dark curls ?iailed down to the floor, outside the curtain, in
view of the audience, whilst " Katie " walked about and
talked with us. I have seen Florrie placed on the scale of
a weighing machine constructed by Mr. Crookes for the
purpose, behind the curtain, whilst the balance remained
in sight. I have seen under these circumstances that the
medium weighed eight stone in a normal condition, and
Ihat as soon as the materialized form was fully developed,
the balance ran up to four stone. Moreover, I have seen
both Florrie and " Katie " together on several occasions, so
I can have no doubt on the subject that they were two
separate creatures. Still, I can quite understand how dif-
ficult it must have been for strangers to compare the strong
likeness that existed between the medium and the spirit,
without suspecting they were one and the same person.
One evening " Katie " walked out and perclied herself
upon my knee. I could feel she was a much plumper and
heavier woman than Miss Cook, but she wonderfully
resembled her in features, and I told her so. " Katie " did
not seem to consider it a compliment. She shrugged her
shoulders, made a grimace, and said, " I know I am ; I
can't help it, but I was much prettier than that in earth
life. You shall see, some day — you shall see." After she
had finally retired that evening, she put her head out at
the curtain again and said, with the^trong lisp she always
had, " I want Mrs. Ross-Church." I rose and went to her,
when she pulled me inside the curtain, when I found it was
so thin that the gas shining through it from the outer room
made everything in the inner quite visible. " Katie " pulled
my dress impatiently and said, " Sit down on the ground,"
which I did. She then seated herself in my lap, saying,
•' And now, dear, we'll have a good ' confab,' like women do
on earth." Florence Cook, meanwhile, was lying on a
mattress on the ground close to us, wrapped in a deep
trance. " Katie " seemed very anxious I should ascertain
beyond doubt that it was Florrie. " Touch her," she said,
"take her hand, pull her curls. Do you see that it is
Florrie lying there ? " When I assured her I was quite
142 THERE IS NO DEATH.
satisfied there was no doubt of it, the spirit said, " Then
look round this way, and see what I was like inearth life."
I turned to the form in my arms, and what was my amaze-
ment to see a woman fair as the day, with large grey or
blue eyes, a white skin, and a profusion of golden red hair.
" Katie " enjoyed my surprise, and asked me, " Ain't I
prettier than Florrie now ? " She then rose and procured a
pair of scissors from the table, and cut off a lock of her own
hair and a lock of the medium's, and gave them to me. I
have them safe to this day. One is almost black, soft and
silky ; the other a coarse golden red. After she had made
me this present, " Katie " said, " Go back now, but don't
tell the others to-night, or they'll all want to see me." On
another very warm evening she sat on my lap amongst the
audience, and I felt perspiration on her arm. This sur-
prised me ; and I asked her if, for the time being, she had
the veins, nerves, and secretions of a human being ; if
blood ran through her body, and she had a heart and lungs.
Her answer was, " I have everything that Florrie has."
On that occasion also she called me after her into the back
room, and, dropping her white garment, stood perfectly
naked before me. " Now," she said " you can see that I
am a woman." Which indeed she was, and a most beauti-
fully-made woman too ; and I examined her well, whilst
Miss Cook lay beside us on the floor. Instead of dismissing
me this time, " Katie " told me to sit down by the medium,
and, having brought me a candle and matches, said I was
to strike a light as soon as she gave three knocks, as Flor-
rie would be hysterical on awaking, and need my assistance.
She then knelt dowi^ and kissed me, and I saw she was
still naked. " Where is your dress, Katie ? " I asked. " Oh
that's gone," she said ; " I've sent it on before me." As
she spoke thus, kneeling beside me, she rapped three times
on the floor. I struck the match almost simultaneously
with the signal ; but as it flared up, " Katie King " was
gone like a flash of lightning, and Miss Cook, as she had
predicted, awoke with a burst of frightened tears, and had
to be soothed into tranquillity again. On another occasion
" Katie King " was asked at the beginning of the seance,
by one of the company, to say why she could not appear
in the light of more than one gasburner. The question
seemed to irritate her, and she replied, " I have told you
all, several times before, that I can't stay under a searching
THERE IS NO DEATH. 143
light. I don't know why ; but I can't, and if you want to
prove the truth of what I say, turn up all the gas and see
what will happen to me. Only remember, it you do there
will be no seance to-night, because I shan't be able to
come back again, and you must take your choice.
Upon this assertion it was put to the vote if the trial
should be made or not, and all present (Mr. S. C. Hall
was one of the party) decided we would prefer to witness
the effect of a full glare of gas upon the materialized form
than to have the usual sitting, as it would settle the vexed
question of the necessity of gloom (if not darkness) for a
materializing seance for ever. We accordingly told " Katie"
of our choice, and she consented to stand the test, though
she said afterwards we had put her to much pain. She
took up her station against the drawing-room wall, with
her arms extended as if she were crucified. Then three
gas-burners were turned on to their full extent in a room
about sixteen feet square. The effect upon " Katie King "
was marvellous. She looked like herself for the space of a
second only, then she began gradually to melt away. I can
compare the dematerialization of her form to nothing but
a wax doll melting before a hot fire. First, the features
became blurred and indistinct ; they seemed to run into
each other. The eyes sunk in the sockets, the nose
disappeared, the frontal bone fell in. Next tlie limbs
appeared to give way under her, and she sank lower and
lower on the carpet like a crumbling edifice. At last there
was nothing but her head left above the ground — then a
heap of white drapery only, which disappeared with a
whisk, as if a hand had pulled it after her — and we were
left staring by the light of three gas-burners at the spot on
which " Katie King" had stood.
She was always attired in white drapery, but it varied in
quality. Sometimes it looked like long cloth ; at others like
mull muslin or jaconet ; oftenest it was a species of thick
cotton net. The sitters were much given to asking " Katie "
for a piece of her dress to keep as a souvenir of their visit ;
and wjien they received it, would seal it up carefully in an
envelope and convey it home ; and were much surprised
on examining their treasure to find it had totally disap-
peared.
" Katie " used to say that nothing material about her
could be made to last without taking away some of the
144 THERE IS uVO DEATH.
medium's vitality, and weakening her in consequence. One
evening, when she was cutting off pieces of her dress
rather lavishly, I remarked that it would require a great
deal of mending. She answered, " I'll show you how we
mend dresses in the Spirit World." She then doubled up
the front breadth of her garment a dozen times, and cut
two or three round holes in it. I am sure when she let it
fall again there must have been thirty or forty holes, and
" Katie " said, " Isn't that a nice cullender ? "
She then commenced, whilst we stood close to her, to
shake her skirt gently about, and in a minute it was as
perfect as before, without a hole to be seen. When we
expressed our astonishment, she told me to take the scis-
sors and cut off her hair. She had a profusion of ringlets
falling to her waist that night. I obeyed religiously, hack-
ing the hair wherever I could, whilst she kept on saying,
" Cut more ! cut more ! not for yourself, you know,
because you can't take it away."
So I cut off curl after curl, and as fast as they fell to the
ground, the hair greio agaifi upon her head. When I had
finished, " Katie " asked me to examine her hair, to see if I
could detect any place where I had used the scissors, and
I did so without any effect. Neither was the severed hair
to be found. It had vanished out of sight. " Katie " was
photographed many times, by limelight, by Mr. Alfred
Crookes, but her portraits are all too much like her medium
to be of any value in establishing her claim to a separate
identity. She had always stated she should not appear on
this earth after the month of May, 1874; and accordingly,
on the 2ist, she assembled her friends to say '•' Good-bye "
to them, and I was one of the number. " Katie " had
asked Miss Cook to provide her with a large basket of
flowers and ribbons, and she sat on the floor and made up a
bouquet for each of her friends to keep in remembrance of
her.
Mine, which consists of lilies of the valley and pink gera-
nium, looks almost as fresh to-day, nearly seventeen years
after, as it did when she gave it to me. It was accompanied
by the following words, which " Katie " wrote on a sheet
of paper in my presence :—
" From Annie Owen de Morgan {alias ' Katie ') to her
friend Florence Marryat Ross-Church. With love. Pensez
a moi.
''May 21st, 1874."
THERE IS NO DEATH. 145
The farewell scene was as pathetic as if we had been
parting with a dear companion by death. " Katie " her-
self did not seem to know how to go. She returned again
and again to have a last look, especially at Mr. Alfred
Crookes, who was as attached to her as she was to him.
Her prediction has been fulfilled, and from that day, Flo-
rence Cook never saw her again nor heard anything about
her. Her place* was shortly filled by another influence,
who called herself " Marie," and who danced and sung in
a truly professional style, and certainly as Miss Cook never
either danced or sung. I should not have mentioned the
appearance of this spirit, whom I only saw once or twice,
excepting for the following reason. On one occasion Miss
Cook (then Mrs. Corner) was giving a public seance at
the rooms of the National British Association of Spiritual-
ists, at which a certain Sir George Sitwell, a very young
man, was present, and at which he declared that the me-
dium cheated, and that the spirit " Marie " was herself,
dressed up to deceive the audience. Letters appeared in
the newspapers about it, and the whole press came down
upon Spiritualists, and declared them all to be either
knaves or fools. These notices were published on the
morning of a day on which Miss Cook was engaged to give
another public seance, at which I was present. She was
naturally very much cut up about them. Her reputation
was at stake ; her honor had been called into question, and
being a proud girl, she resented it bitterly. Her present
audience was chiefly composed of friends ; but, before
commencing, she put it to us whether, whilst under such a
stigma, she had better not sit at all. We, who had all
tested her and believed in her, were unanimous in repu-
diating the vile charges brought against her, and in begging
the seance should proceed. Florrie refused, however, to sit
unless some one rernained in the cabinet with her, and she
chose me for the purpose. I was therefore tied to her
securely with a stout rope, and we remained thus fastened
together for the whole of the evening. Under which con-
ditions " Marie " appeared, and sung and danced outside
the cabinet, just as she had done to Sir George Sitwell
whilst her medium remained tied to me. So much for
men who decide a matter before they have sifted it to the
bottom. Mrs. Elgie Corner has long since given up
mediumship either private or public, and lives deep down
10
146 THERE IS NO DEATH.
in the heart of Wales, where the babble and scandal of the
city affect hef no longer. But she told me, only last year,
that she would not pass through the suffering she had
endured on account of Spiritualism again for all the good
this world could give her.
THERE IS NO DEATH. 147
CHAPTER XVII.
THE MEDIUMSHIP OF KATIE COOK.
In the matter of producing physical phenomena the Cooks
are a most remarljable family, all three daughters being
powerful media, and that without any solicitation on their
part. The second one, Katie, is by no means the least
powerful of the three, although she has sat more privately
than her sister Florence, and not had the same scientific
tests (I believe) applied to her. The first time I had an
opportunity of testing Katie's mediumship was at the pri-
vate rooms of Signor Rondi, in a circle of nine or ten
friends. The apartment was small and sj^arsely furni:;hed,
being an artist's studio. The gas was kept burning, and
before the sitting commenced the door was locked and
strips of paper pasted over the opening inside. The cabi-
net was formed of a window curtain nailed across one
corner of the room, behind which a chair was placed for
the medium, who is a remarkably small and slight girl —
much slighter than her sister Florence — with a thin face
and delicate features. She was dressed, on this occasion,
in a tight-fitting black gown and Hessian boots that
buttoned half-way to her knee, and which, she informed
me, she always wore when sitting (just as Miss Showers
did), because they had each eighteen buttons, which took
a long time to fasten and unfasten. The party sat in a
semicircle, close outside the curtain, and the light was
lowered, but not extinguished. There was no darkness,
and no holding of hands. I mention these facts to show
how very simple the preparations were. In a few minutes
the curtain was lifted, and a form, clothed in white, who
called herself " Lily," was presented to our view. She
answered several questions relative to herself and the
medium ; and perceiving some doubt on the part of some
of the sitters, she seated herself on my knee, I being near-
est the curtain, and asked me to.feel her body, and tell the
others how diflferently she was made from the medium. I
148 THERE IS NO DEATH.
had already realized that she was much heavier than Katie
Cook, as she felt like a heavy girl of nine or ten stone. I
then passed my hand up and down her figure. She had
full breasts and plump arms and legs, and could not have
been mistaken by the most casual observers for Miss Cook.
Whilst she sat on my knee, however, she desired my hus-
band and Signer Rondi to go inside the curtain and feel
that the medium was seated in her chair. When they did
so, they found Katie was only half entranced. She thrust
her feet out to view, and said, " I am not ' Lily; ' feel my
boots." My husband had, at the same moment, one hand
on Miss Cook's knee, and the other stretched out to feel
the figure seated on my lap. There remained no doubt in
his mind of there being two bodies there at the same time.
Presently " Lily " passed her hand over my dress, and
remarked how nice and warm it was, and how she wished
she had one on too. I asked her, "Are you cold?" and
she said, " Wouldn't you be cold if you had nothing but
this white thing on ? " Half-jestingly, I took my fur cloak,
which was on a sofa close by, and put it round her shoulders,
and told her to wear it. " Lily " seemed delighted. She
exclaimed; " Oh, how warm it is ! May I take it away with
me ? " I said, " Yes, if you will bring it back before I go
home. I have nothing else to wear, remember." She
promised she would, and left my side. In another moment
she called out, " Turn up the gas ! " We did so. " Lily "
was gone, and so was my large fur cloak ! We searched the
little room round for it. It had entirely disappeared.
There was a locked cupboard in which Signor Rondi kept
drawing materials. I insisted on its being opened, although
he declared it had not been unlocked for weeks, and we
found it full of dust and drawing blocks, but nothing else,
so the light was again lowered, and the seance resumed.
In a short time the heavy cloak was flung, apparently from
the ceiling, evidently from somewhere higher than my
head, and fell right over it.
I laid it again on the sofa, and thought no more about it
until I returned home. I then found, to my astonishment,
and considerably to my annoyance, that the fur of my cloak
(which was a new one) was all coming out. My dress was
covered with it, and from that day I was never able to wear
the cloak again. " Lily" said she had ^^-materialized it,
to take it away. Of the truth of that assertion I had no
THERE IS NO DEATH. 149
proof, but I am quite sure that she did not put it together
again when she brought it back. An army of moths
encamped in it could not have damaged it more, and I can
vouch that until that evening the fur had been as perfect
as when 1 purchased it.
I think my next sitting with Katie Cook was at a
seance held in Museum Street, and on the invitation
of jMr. Chas. Blackburn, who is one of the most earn-
est friends of Spiritualism, and has expended a large
amount of money in its research. The only other guests
were my husband, and General and Mrs. Maclean. We
sat round a small uncovered table with the gas burning
and without a cabinet, Miss Katie Cook had a seat be-
tween General Maclean and myself, and we made sure of
her proximity to us during the whole seafice. In fact, I
never let go of her hand, and even when she wished to use
her pocket-handkerchief, she had to do it with my hand
clinging to her own. Neither did she go into a trance.
We spoke to her occasionally during the sitting, and she
answered us, though in a very subdued voice, as she com-
plained of being sick and faint. In about twenty minutes,
during which the usual manifestations occurred, the
materialized form of " Lily " appeared in the tniddle of the
table, and spoke to us and kissed us all in turn. Her face
was very small, and she was only formed to the waist, but
her flesh was quite firm and warm. Whilst " Lily " occu-
pied the table in the full sight of all the sitters, and I had
my hand upon Miss Cook's figure (for I kept passing my
hand up and down from her face to her knees, to make
sure it was not only a hand I held), some one grasped my
chair from behind and shook it, and when I turned my
head and spoke, in a moment one arm was round my neck
and one round the neck of my husband, who sat next to
me, whilst the voice of my daughter " Florence " spoke to
us both, and her long hair and her soft white dress swept
over our faces and hands. Her hair was so abundant and
long, that she shook it out over my lap, that I might feel
its length and texture. I asked " Florence " for a piece
of her hair and dress, and scissors not being forthcoming,
" Lily " materialized more fully, and walked round from
the other side of the table and cut off a piece of " Flor-
ence's " dress herself with my husband's penknife, but said
they could not give me the hair that time. The two spirits
I50 THERE IS NO DEATH,
remained with us for, perhaps, half an hour or more, whilst
General Maclean and I continued to hold Miss Cook a
prisoner. The power then failing, they disappeared, but
every one present was ready to take his oath that two pre-
sences had been with us that never entered at the door. The
room was small and unfurnished, the gas was burning, the
medium sat for the whole time in our sight. Mrs. Mac-
lean and I were the only other women present, yet two
girls bent over and kissed us, spoke to us, and placed
their bare arms on our necks at one and the same time.
There was again also a marked difference between the
medium and the materializations. I have already described
her appearance. Both of these spirits had plump faces
and figures, my daughter ** Florence's " hands especially
being large and firm, and her loose hair nearly down to
her knees.
I had the pleasure of holding another seance with
Katie Cook in the same rooms, when a new manifes-
tation occurred. She is (as I have said) a very small
woman, with very short arms. I am, on the contrary, a
very large woman, with very long arms, yet the arm of the
hand I held was elongated to such an extent that it reached
the sitters on the other side of the table, where it would
have been impossible for mine to follow it. I should think
the limb must have been stretched to thrice its natural
length, and that in the sight of everybody. I sat again
with Katie Cook in her own house, where, if trickery is
employed, sh^ had every opportunity of tricking us, but
the manifestations were much the same, and certainly not
more marvellous than those she had exhibited in the houses
of strangers. " Lily " and " Florence " both appeared at
the same time, under circumstances that admitted of no
possibility of fraud. My husband and I were accompanied
on that occasion by our friends, Captain and Mrs. Kendal,
and the order of sitting round the table was as follows : —
Myself, Katie, Captain K., Florence Cook, my husband,
Mrs. Cook, Mrs. Kendal. Each member of the family, it
will be observed, was held between two detectives, and
their hands were not once set free. I must say also that
the seance was a free one, courteously accorded us on the
invitation of Mrs. Cook ; and if deception had been in-
tended, we and our friends might just as well have been
left to sit with Katie alone, whilst the other members of
THERE IS NO DEATH. 15 1
the family superintended the manifestation of the " ghosts "
outside. Miss Florence Cook, indeed (Mrs. Corner),
objected at first to sitting with us, on the score that her
mediumship usually neutralized that of her sister, but her
mother insisted on her joining the circle, lest any suspicion
should be excited by her absence. The Cooks, indeed,
are, all of them, rather averse to sitting than not, and cor-
dially agree in disliking the powers that have been thrust
upon them against their own will.
These influences take possession of them, unfitting them
for more practical work, and they must live. This is, I
believe, the sole reason that they have never tried to make
money by the exercise of their mediumship. But I, for
one, fully believe them when they tell me that they con-
sider the fact of their being media as the greatest misfor-
tune that has ever happened to them. On the occasion of
this last seance, cherries and rosebuds were showered in
profusion on the table during the evening. These may
easily be believed to have been secreted in the room be-
fore the commencement of the sitting, and produced at the
proper opportunity, although the hands of everybody in-
terested in their production were fast held by strangers.
But it is less easy to believe that alady of limited income,
like Mrs. Cook, should go to such an expense for an unpaid
seance^ for the purpose of making converts of people who
were strangers to her. Mediumship pays very badly as it
is. I am afraid it would pay still worse if the poor media
had to purchase the means for producing the phenomena,
especially when, in a town like London, they run (as in
this instance) to hothouse fruit and flowers.
One more example of Katie Cook's powers and I have
done. We were assembled one evening by the invitation of
Mr. Charles Blackburn at his house, Elgin Crescent. We sat
in a small breakfast room on the basement floor, so small,
indeed, for the size of the party, that as we encircled a
large round table, the sitters' backs touched the wall on
either side, thus entirely preventing any one crossing the
room whilst we were established there. The only piece of
furniture of any consequence in the room, beside the
chairs and table, was a trichord cabinet piano, belonging
to Mrs. Cook (who was ke^eping house at the time for Mr.
Blackburn), and which she much valued.
Katie Cook sat amongst us as usual. In the middle of
the seance her control " Lily," who was materialized, called
152 THERE IS NO DEATH,
out, " Keep hands fast. Don't let go, whatever you do ! "
And at the same time, without seeing anything (for we
were sitting in complete darkness), we became conscious
that something large and heavy was passing or being
carried over our heads. One of the ladies of the party
became nervous, and dropped her neighbor's hand with
a cry of alarm, and, at the same moment, a weighty
body fell with a fearful crash on the other side of the
room. " Lily " exclaimed, " Some one has let go hands,"
and Mrs. Cook called out ; " Oh ! it's my piano." Lights
were struck, when we found the cabinet piano had actually
been carried from its original position right over our heads
to the opposite side of the room, where it had fallen on the
floor and been seriously damaged. The two carved legs
were broken off, and the sounding board smashed in. Any
one who had heard poor Mrs. Cook's lamentations over
the ruin of her favorite instrument, and the expense it
would entail to get it restored, would have felt little doubt
as to whether she had been a willing victim to this unwel-
come proof of her daughter's physical mediumship.
THERE IS NO DEATH, 153
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE MEDIUMSHIP OF BESSIE FITZGERALD.
One evening I went to have a cup of tea with my friend
Miss Schonberg at Shepherd's Bush, when she proposed
that we should go and have a seance with Mrs. Henry
Jencken (Kate Fox), who Hved close by. I hailed the
idea, as I had heard such great things of the medium in
question, and never had an opportunity of testing them.
Consequently, I was proportionately disappointed when,
on sending round to her house to ask if she could receive
us that evening, we received a message to say that Mr.
Jencken, her husband, had died that morning, and she
could see no one. Miss Schonberg and I immediately cast
about in our minds to see what we should do with our
time, and she suggested we should call on Mrs. Fitzgerald.
" Who is Mrs. Fitzgerald?" I queried. " A wonderful
medium," replied my friend, " whom I met at Mrs. Wilson's
last week, and who gave me leave to call on her. Let us
go together. And accordingly we set forth for Mrs. Fitz-
gerald's residence in the Goldhawk Road. I only men-
tion these circumstances to show how utterly unpreme-
ditated was my first visit to her. We arrived at her house,
and were ushered into a sitting-room, Miss Schonberg only
sending up her name. In a few minutes the door opened,
and a small, fair woman, dressed in black velvet, entered
the room. Miss Schonberg saluted her, and was about to
tender some explanation regarding my presence there, when
Mrs. Fitzgerald walked straight up to me and took my
hand. Her eyes seemed to dilate and contract, like the
opening and shutting off of a light, in a manner which I
have often seen since, and she uttered rapidly, " You have
been married once ; you have been married twice ; and
you will be married a third time." I answered, " If you
know anything, Mrs. Fitzgerald, you must know that I am
very much attached to my husband, and that your informa-
tion can give me no pleasure to hear." " No ! " she said,
154 THERE IS NO DEATH.
"no! I suppose not, but you cannot alter Fate." She
then proceeded to speak of things in my past Hfe
which had had the greatest influence over the whole of it,
occurrences of so private and important a nature that it
becomes impossible to write them down here, and for that
very reason doubly convincing to the person whom they
concern. Presently Mrs. Fitzgerald wandered to her piano,
and commenced to play the air of the ballad so firmly con-
nected in my mind with John Powles, " Thou art gone
from my gaze," whilst she turned and nodded at me saying,
" He's here ! " In fact, after a couple of hours' conversa-
tion with her, I felt that this stranger in the black velvet
dress had turned out every secret of my life, and laid it
naked and bare before me. I was wonderfully attracted to
her. Her personality pleased me ; her lonely life, living
with her two babies in the Goldhawk Road, made me
anxious to give her society and pleasure, and her wonder-
ful gifts of clairvoyance and trance mediumship, all com-
bined to make me desire her friendship, and I gave her a
cordial invitation to my house in the Regent's Park, where
for some years she was a constant visitor, and always sure
of a hearty welcome. It was due to her kindness that I
first had the opportunity to study trance mediumship at my
leisure, and in a short time we became so familiar with her
most constant control, " Dewdrop," a Red Indian girl,
and so accustomed to speak through Mrs. Fitzgerald with
our own friends gone before, that we welcomed her advent
to our house as the signal for holding a spiritual party. For
the sake of the uninitiated and curious, I think I had better
here describe what is meant by trance mediumship. A
person thus gifted has the power of giving him or herself
up to the control of the influences in command, who send
him or her off" to sleep, a sleep so deep and so like death
that the spirit is actually parted pro tem from the body,
which other spirits, sometimes living, but far oftener dead,
enter and use as if it were their own. I have mentioned
in my chapter on " Embodied Spirits " how my living
friend in India conversed with me through Bessie Fitzgerald
in this way, also how " Florence " spoke to me through the
unconscious lips of Mabel Keningale Cook.
Of course, I am aware that it would be so easy for a
medium simply to close her eyes, and, professing to be en-
tranced, talk a lot of commonplaces, which open-mouthed
THERE IS NO DEATH. 155
fools might accept as a new gospel, that it becomes imper-
ative to test this class of media strictly by what they utter,
and to place no faith in them until you are convinced
that the matters they speak of cannot possibly have been
known to any one except the friend whose mouthpiece they
profess to be. All this I fully proved for myself from
repeated trials and researches j but the unfortunate part of
it is, that the more forcible and convincing the private
proof, the more difficult it is to place it before the public.
I must content myself, tlierefore, with saying that some of
my dead friends (so called) came back to me so frequently
through Bessie Fitzgerald, and familiarized themselves so
completely with my present life, that I forgot sometimes
that they had left this world, and flew to them (or rather to
Bessie) to seek their advice or ask their sympathy as
naturally as if she were their eartly form. Of these my
daughter " Florence " was necessarily the most often with
me, and she and " Dewdrop " generally divided the time
which !Mrs. Fitzgerald spent with us between them. I
never saw a control so completely identified with its
medium as "Dewdrop" was with Bessie. It was difficult
at times to know which was which, and one could never
be certain until she spoke whether the spirit or the medium
had entered the house. When she did speak, however,
there was no mistaking them. Their characters were so
different. Bessie Fitzgerald, a quiet, soft spoken little
woman, devoted to her children, and generally unobtrusive ;
" Dewdrop," a Sioux Indian girl, wary and deep as her
tribe and cute and saucy as a Yankee, with an amount
of devilry in her that must at times have proved very
inconvenient. She used to play Mrs. Fitzgerald tricks
in those days that might have brought her into seri-
ous trouble, such as controlling her whilst travelling
in an omnibus, and talking her Yankee Indian to the
passengers until she had made their hair stand on end,
with the suspicion that they had a lunatic for a companion.
One evening we had a large and rather " swell " evening
party, chiefly composed of ladies and gentlemen of the
theatrical profession, and entirely of non-spiritualists,
excepting ourselves. Mrs. Fitzgerald had been invited to
this party, and declined, because it was out of her line. We
were therefore rather astonished, when all the guests were
assembled, to hear her name announced and see her enter
156 THERE IS NO DEATH.
the room in a morning dress. Directly I cast eyes upon
her, however, I saw that it was not herself, but " Dewdrop."
The stride with which -she walked, the waggish way she
rolled from side to side, the devilry in her eye, all be-
tokened the Indian control. To make matters worse, she
went straight up to Colonel Lean, and, throwing herself on
the ground at his feet, affectionately laid her head upon his
knee, and said, " I'se come to the party." Imagine the
astonishment of our guests ! I was obliged at once, in
defence of my friend, to explain to them how matters
stood ; and though they looked rather incredulous, they
were immensely interested, and " Dewdrop's " visit proved
to be the event of the evening. She talked to each one
separately, telling them liome truths, and prophesying their
future in a way that made their cheeks go pale with fright,
or red Avith conscious shame, and there was quite a contest
between the men as to who should take " Dewdrop " down
to the supper table. When there, she made herself parti-
cularly lively, making personal remarks aloud that were,
in some instances, rather trying to listen to, and which
Bessie Fitzgerald would have cut out her tongue sooner
than utter. She ate, too, of dishes which would have made
Bessie ill for a week. This was another strange peculiarity
of " Dewdrop's " control. She not only ousted the spirit ;
she regulated the internal machinery of her medium's body.
Bessie in her normal condition was a very delicate woman
with a weak heart and lungs, and obliged to be most care-
ful in her diet. She ate like a sparrow, and of the simplest
things. " Dewdrop," on the other hand, liked indigestible
food, and devoured it freely ; yet Bessie has told me that
she never felt any inconvenience from the food amalga-
mated with her system whilst under " Dewdrop's "control.
One day when Mrs. Fitzgarald was dining with us, we had
some apples at dessert, which she would have liked to par-
take of, but was too much afraid of the after consequences.
" I dare not," she said ; " if I were to eat a raw apple, I
should have indigestion for a week." She took some pre-
served ginger instead ; and we were proceeding with our
dessert, when I saw her hand steal out and grasp an apple.
I looked in her face. " Dewdrop " had taken her place.
" Dewdrop/' I said, authoritatively, " you must not eat
that. You will hurt Bessie. Put it down directly."
•' I shan't," replied " Dewdrop," drawing the dish
towards her ; " I like apples. I'm always wanting ' Medy '
THERE IS NO DEATH.
157
to eat them, and she won't, so she must go away till I've
had as many as I want." And in effect she ate three or
four of them, and Bessie would never have been cogni-
zant of the fact unless I had informed her. On the occa-
sion of the party to whicli she came uninvited, " Dewdrop "
remained with us to the very last, and went home in a cab,
and landed Mrs. Fitzgerald at her house without her being
aware that she had ever left it. At that time we were con-
stantly at each other's houses, and many an evening have
I spent alone with Bessie in the Goldhawk Road, her ser-
vant out marketing and her little children asleep in the
room overhead. Her baby was then a great fat fellow of
about fifteen months old, who was given to waking and
crying for his mother. If " Dewdrop " were present, she was
always very impatient with these interruptions. " Bother
dat George," she would say ; " I must go up and quiet
him." Then she would disappear for a few minutes, while
Bessie woke and talked to me, and then, in the twinkling of
an eye, "Dewdrop" would be back again. One day,
apparently, '• George " would not be comforted, for on
'• Dewdrop's " return she said to me, " It's no good ; I've
had to bring him down. He's on the mat outside the door ; "
and there, sure enough, we found the poor baby wailing in
his nightshirt. Not being able to walk, how he had been
spirited from the top storey to the bottom I leave my
readers to determine. Bessie's little girl ^Mabel promised
to be as wonderful a medium as her mother. She would
come in from the garden flushed from her play with the
" spirit-children," of whom she talked as familiarly as of
her little neighbors next door. I have watched her playing
at ball with an invisible child, and have seen the ball
thrown, arrested half-way in the air, and then -tossed back
again just as if a living child had been Mab's opponent. I
had lost several infants from premature birth during my
second marriage, and the eldest of these, a girl, appeared to
be a constant companion of Mabel's. She was always talking
of what " Mrs. Lean's girl" (as she called her) had done
and said ; and one day she had a violent fit of weeping
because her mother would .not promise to buy her a frock
like the one " Mrs. Lean's girl'' wore.
Apropos of these still-born children, I had a curious
experience with Mrs. Fitzgerald. I had had no idea until
then that children so born possessed any souls, or lived
1S8 THERE IS NO DEATH.
again, but " Florence" undeceived me when she told me
she had charge ofher little brothers and sisters. She even
professed to know the names by which they were known in
the spirit world. When a still-born baby is launched upon
the other side, she said it is delivered over to the nearest
relative of its parent, to be called by what name he may
choose. Thus my first girl was christened by Colonel
Lean's mother " Gertrude," after a bosom friend of her's,
and my second my father named " Joan," as he said it was
his favorite female name. Upon subsequent inquiry, we
found that Mrs. Lean had -x friend called " Gertrude," and
that " Joan " was distinctly Captain Marryat's beau ideal
of a woman's name. However, that signified but little. I
became very curious to see or speak with these unknown
babies of mine, and used to worry " Florence " to bring
them to me. She would expostulate with me after this
fashion : " Dear mother, be reasonable. Remember what
babies they are, and that this world is quite strange to them.
When your earthly children were small you never
allowed them to be brought down before strangers, for
fear they should cry. ' Gertie ' and ' Yonnie ' would
behave just the same if I brought them back to you now."
However, I went on teasing her till she made the attempt,
and " Gertie " returned through Mrs. Fitzgereld. It was a
long time before we could coax her to remain with us, and
when she overcame her first shyness, it was like talking to
a little savage. " Gertie " didn't know the meaning of
anything, or the names of anything. Her incessant ques-
tions of " What's a father?" "What a mother?" "What's
a dog?" were very difircult to answer; but she would
chatter about- the spirit-world, and what she did there, as
glibly as possible. She told us that she knew her brother
Francis (the lad who was drowned at sea) very well, and
she " ran races, and Francis ' chivied ' her ; and when he
caught her, he held her under the fountain, and the spray
wetted her frock, and made it look like silver." The word
" chivied'" sounding to me very much of a mundane charac-
ter, I asked " Gertie " where she learned it ; and she said,
" Francis says ' chivy,' so / may," and it was indeed a
common expression with him. " Gertie " took, after a
while, such a keen interest in my ornaments and china,
rather to their endangerment, that I bought a doll to see
if she would play with it. At first she was vastly deUjfhted
THERE IS NO DEATH. 159
with the "little spirit," as she called it, and nursed it just
as a mortal child would have done. But when she began
to question me as to the reason the doll did not look at her,
or answer her, or move about, and I said it was because it
was not alive, she was dreadfully disappointed. " Not
alive ! " she echoed ; " didn't God make it ? " and when
I replied in the negative, she threw it to the other end of
the room, and would never look at it again.
" Gertie " was about five years old at this period, and
seemed to have a great idea of her own importance. She
always announced herself as "The Princess Gertie," and
was very dignified in her behavior. One day, when a
lady friend was present when " (Gertie " came and asked
her to kiss her, she extended her hand instead of her face,
saying, " You may kiss my hand."
" Yonnie " (as " Joan " called herself) was but eighteen
months old, and used to manifest herself, roaring like a
child forcibly dragged before strangers, and the only word
we could ever extract from her was " Sugar-plums," Ac-
cordingly, I invested in some for her benefit, with which
she filled her mouth so full as nearly to choke the medium,
and " Florence " rebuked me seriously for my carelessness,
and threatened never to bring " Yonnie " down to this
earth again. There had been three other children — boys
— whom I was equally anxious to see again, but, for some
inexplicable reason, " Florence " said it was impossible
that they could manifest. The little girls, however, came
until we were quite familiar with them. I am aware that
all this must sound very childish, but had it not borne a
remarkable context, I should not have related it. All the
wonder of it will be found later on.
Mrs. Fitzgerald suffered very much at this time from in-
somnia, which she always declared was benefitted after a
visit to me. I proposed one night, therefore, when she had
stayed with us later than usual, that she should remain and
share my bed, and return home in the morning. She con-
sented, and at the usual hour we retired to rest together, I
taking care to lock the bedroom door and keep the gas burn-
ing ; indeed, Bessie was so nervous of what she might see
that she would not have remained in the dark for any con-
sideration. The bed we occupied was what is called a half
tester, with a canopy and curtains on either side. As soon
as ever Bessie got into it, she burrowed under the clothes
i6o THERE IS iVO DEATH.
like a dormouse, and went fast asleep. I was too curious to
see what miglit happen to follow her example, so my head
remained on the pillow, and my eyes wide open, and turn-
ing in every direction. Presently I saw the curtains on
the opposite side of the bed gently shaken, next a white
hand and arm appeared round them, and was passed up
and down the ridge that represented Bessie Fitzgerald's
body; finally, after several times stepping forward and
retreating again, a female figure emerged and walked to
the foot of the bedstead and stood there regarding me.
She was, to all appearance, as solidly formed as any human
creature could be, and she was as perfectly distinct as
though seen by daylight. Her head and bust reminded
me at once of the celebrated " Clytie," they were so classi-
cally and beautifully formed. Her hair and skin were fair,
her eyes luminously liquid and gentle, her whole attitude
one of modest dignity. She was clothed in some creamy
white material, thick and soft, and intermixed with dull
gold. She wore no ornaments, but in her right hand she
carried a long branch of palm, or olive, or myrtle, some-
thing tall and tapering, and of dark green. She scarcely
could be said to smile at me, but there was an indescrib-
able appearance of peace and tranquillity about her. When
I described this apparition to Bessie in the morning, she
recognized it at once as that of her control, " Goodness,"
whom she had seen clairvoyantly, but she affirmed that I
was the only person who had ever given her a correct des-
cription of this influence, which was the best and purest
about her. After "Goodness" had remained in the same
position for a few minutes, she walked back again behind
the curtain, which served as a cabinet, and " Florence "
came out and had a whispered conversation with me.
Next a dark face, but only a face, said to be that of
" Dewdrop," peeped out four or five times, and disap-
peared again ; then a voice said, " No more ! good-night,"
and I turned round to where Bessie lay sleeping beside
me, and went to sleep myself. After that, she often came,
when suffering worse than usual from insomnia, to pass the
night with me, as she said my magnetism caused her to
sleep, and similar manifestations always occurred when we
were alone and together.
Mrs. Fitzgerald's mediumship was by no means used,
however, for the sole purpose of gratifying curiosity or
THERE IS NO DEATH. l6l
foretelling the future. She was a wonderful medical
diagnoser, and sat for a long time in the service of a well-
known medical man. She would be ensconced in a corner
of his waiting-room and tell him the exact disease of each
patient that entered. She told me she could see the in-
side of everybody as perfectly as though they were made
of glass. This gift, however, induced her to take on a
reflection (as it were) of the disease she diagnosed, and
after a while her failing strength compelled her to give it
up. Her control " Dewdrop " was what she called herself,
"a metal spirit," i.e., her advice was very trustworthy
with regard to all speculations and monetary transactions.
Many stockbrokers and city men used regularly to con-
sult Bessie before they engaged in any speculation, and
she received many valuable presents in return for her
assistance in " making a pile." One gentleman, indeed,
settled a large sum of money when he died on her little
son in gratitude for the fortune " Dewdrop " had helped
him to accumulate. Persons who sneer at Spiritualism and
declare it to be useless, little know Kow much advantage is
taken of spiritual forethought and prevision by those who
believe in it. I have never been sorry but when I have
neglected to follow the advice of a medium whom I had
proved to be trustworthy.
In the autumn of 1883 I introduced my own entertain-
ment of " Love Letters " to the provincial British public,
and it had an immediate and undeniable success. My en-
gagements poured in rapidly, and I had already booked
dates for the whole spring of 1884, when Mr. Edgar Bruce
offered me an engagement at the Prince of Wales' (then
the Prince's) Theatre, about to be opened in Piccadilly.
I had been anxiously waiting to obtain an engagement on
the London boards, and was eager to accept it ; still, I
did not know if I would be wise in relinquishing my pro-
vincial engagements. I wrote to Bessie to ask " Dew-
drop " what I should do ; the answer was, " Don't accept,
only a flash in the pan." Thereupon I sent to Mr. Bruce
to ask how long the engagement w«is likely to last,
and his answer was that he expected " The Palace of
Truth " to run a year at least, and at any rate I was to
consider myself one of a " stock company." Thereupon I
cancelled all my entertainment engagements, returned to
London, appeared at the Prince's Theatre for \w%\. eleven
11
l62 THERE IS NO DEATH.
weeks, and got into four law suits with my disappointed
patrons for \\\y trouble.
It is one of the commonest remarks made by stupid-
people, " If the spirits know anything, let them tell
me the name of the winner of the Derby, and then
I will believe them," etc. I was speaking of this once
to " Dewdrop," and she said, " We could tell if we
choose, but we are not allowed to do so. If Spiritual-
ism was generally used for such things, all the world
would rush to it in order to cheat one another. But
if you will promise me not to open it until after the Derby
is run, I will give you the name of the winner now in a
sealed envelope, to prove that what I say is the truth."
We gave her the requisite materials, and she made a few
pencil marks on a piece of paper, and sealed it up. It was
the year that " Shotover " won the Derby. The day after
the race, we opened the envelope and found the drawing
of a man with a gun in his hand, a hedge, and a bird flying
away on the other side ; very sketchy, but perfectly in-
telligible to one who could read between the lines.
I was at the theatre one night with Bessie in a box, v/hen I
found out that " Dewdrop " had taken her place. " Dew-
drop" was very fond of going to the play, and her re-
marks were so funny and so na'ive as to keep one con-
stantly amused. Presently, between the acts, she said to
me, " Do you see that man in the front row of the stalls
with a bald head, sitting next to the old lady with a fat
neck ? " I replied I did. " Now you watch," said " Dew-
drop ; " " I'm going down there to have some fun. First
I'll tickle the old man's head, and then I'll scratch the old
woman's neck. Now, you and ' Medie ' watch." The
next moment Bessie spoke to me in her own voice, and I
told her what " Dewdrop " proposed to do. " Oh, poor
things ! " she said, compassionately, " how she will tor-
ment them ! " To watch what followed was a perfect
farce. First, the old man put his hand up to his bald
head, and then he took out his handkerchief and flicked it,
then he rubbed it, "and finally scrubhed it to alleviate the
increasing irritation. Then the old lady began the same
business with her neck, and finding it of no avail, glared at
the old man as if she thought he had done it ; in fact, they
were both in such evident torture that there was no doubt
*' Dewdrop " had kept her promise. When she returned to
THERE IS NO DEATH. 163
me she said, " There ! didn't you see me walking along
the front row of stalls, in my moccasins and beads and
feathers, and all my war-paint on, tickling the old fellow's
head ? " "I didn't see you, * Dewdrop,' " I answered,
" but I'm sure you were there." "Ah ! but the old fellow
felt me, and so did the old girl," she replied.
Bessie Fitzgerald is now Mrs. Russell Davies, and
cajries on her seances in Upper Norwood. No one who
attends them can fail to feel interested in the various phe-
nomena he will meet with there.
1 64 THERE IS NO DEATH.
CHAPTER XIX.
THE MEDIUMSHIP OF LOTTIE FOWLER.
As I was introduced to Lottie Fowler many years before I
met Bessie Fitzgerald, I suppose the account of her medium-
ship should have come first; but I am writing this vera-
cious narrative on no fixed or artificial plan, but just as it
occurs to me, though not from memory, because notes were
taken of every particular at the time of occurrence. In
1874 I was largely employed on the London Press, and
constantly sent to report on anything novel or curious, and
likely to afford matter for an interesting article. It was for
such a purpose that I received an order from one of the
principal newspapers in town to go and have a complimen-
tary seance with an American clairvoyant newly arrived
in England, Miss Lottie Fowler. Until I received my
directions I had never heard the medium's name, and I
knew very little of clairvoyance. She was lodging in Con-
duit Street, and I reached her house one morning as early
as ten o'clock, and sent in a card with the name of tlie
paper only written on it. I was readily admitted. 'Miss
Fowler was naturally anxious to be noticed by the press
and introduced to London society. I found her a stylish-
looking, well-dressed woman of about thirty, with a pleas-
ant, intelligent face. Those of my readers who have only
met her since sickness and misfortune made inroads on her
appearance may smile at my description, but I repeat that
seventeen years ago Lottie Fowler was prosperous and
energetic-looking. She received me very cordially, and
asked me into a little back parlor, of which, as it was sum-
mer weather, both the windows and doors were left open.
Here, in the sunshine, she sat down and took my hand in
hers, and began chatting of what she wished and hoped to
do in London, Suddenly her eyes closed and her head
fell back. She breathed hard for a few minutes, and then
sat up, still with her eyes closed, and began to talk in a
high key, and in broken English. This was her well-known
THERE IS NO DEATH. 165
control, "Annie," without doubt one of the best clairvoy-
ants living. She began by explaining to me that she had
been a German girl in earth life, and couldn't speak Eng-
lish properly, but I should understand her better when I
was more familiar with her. She then commenced with
my birth by the sea, described my father's personality and
occupation, spoke of my mother, my brothers and sisters,
my illnesses, my marriage, and my domestic life. Then
she said, •' Wait ! now I'll go to your house, and tell you
what I see there." She then repeated the names of all my
children, giving a sketch of the character of each one,
down to the "baby with the flower name," as she called
my little Daisy. After she had really exhausted the sub-
ject of my past and present, she said, " You'll say I've
read all this out of your mind, so now I'll tell you what I
see in the future. You'll be married a second time."
Now, at this period I was editing a fashionable magazine,
and drew a large number of literary men around me. I
kept open house on Tuesday evenings, and had innumer-
able friends, and I may (I don't say I had), but I may
have sometimes speculated what my fate might be in the
event of my becoming free. The seance I speak of took
place on a Wednesday morning ; and when "Annie " told me
I should be married a second time, my thoughts involun-
tarily took to tliemselves wings, I suppose, for she imme-
diately followed up her assertion by saying, " No ! not
to the man who broke the tumbler at your house last
night. You will marry another soldier." " No, thank-
you," I exclaimed ; "no more army men for me. I've had
enough of soldiers to last me a lifetime." " Annie " looked
very grave. " You ixnll marry another soldier," she reiter-
ated ; " I can see him now, walking up a terrace. He is
very tall and big, and has brown hair cut quite short, but
so soft and shiny. At the back of his head he looks as
sleek as a mole. He has a broad face, a pleasant, smiling
face, and when he laughs he shows very white teeth. I see
him knocking at your door. He says, ' Is Mrs. Ross-
Church at home ? ' ' Yes, sir.' Then he goes into a room
full of books. ' Florence, my wife is dead. Will you be
my wife?' And you say 'Yes.'" "Annie" spoke so
naturally, and I was so astonished at her knowledge of
my affairs, that it never struck me till I returned home
that she had called me by my name, which had been kept
l66 THERE IS NO DEATH.
carefully from her. I asked her, " When will my husband
die?" "I don't see his death anywhere," she answered.
" But how can I marry again unless he dies ? " I said. " I
don't know, but I can't tell you what I don't see. I see a
house all in confusion, papers are thrown about, and every-
thing is topsy-turvy, and two people are going different
ways ; and, oh, there is so much trouble and so many tears !
But I don't see any death anywhere."
I returned home, very much astonished at all Miss
Fowler had said regarding my past and present, but
very incredulous with respect to her prophecies for the
future. Yet, three years afterwards, when much of
what she told me had come to pass, I was travelling
from Charing Cross to Fareham with Mr. Grossmith,
to give our entertainment of " Entre Nous" when the
train stopped as usual to water at Chatham. On the
platform stood Colonel Lean, in uniform, talking to some
friends. I had never set eyes on him till that moment ;
but I said at once to Mr. Grossmith, "Do you see that
officer in the undress uniform ? That is the man Lottie
Fowler told me I should marry." Her description had
been so exact that I recognized him at once. Of course, I
got well laughed at, and was ready after a while to laugh
at myself. Two months afterwards, however, I was engaged
to recite at the Literary Institute at Chatham, where I had
never set foot in my life before. Colonel Lean came to
the Recital, and introduced himself to me. He became a
visitor at my house in London (which, by the by, had been
changed for one in a terrace), and two years afterwards,
in, June 1879, we were married. I have so far overcome
a natural scruple to make my private affairs public, in jus-
tice to Lottie Fowler. It is useless narrating anything to
do with the supernatural (although I have been taught
that this is a wrong term, and that nothing that exists is
above nature, but only a continuation of it), unless one is
prepared to prove that it was true. Lottie Fowler did not
make a long stay in England on that occasion. She
returned to America for some time, and I was Mrs. Lean
before I met her again. The second visit was a remarkable
one. I had been to another medium, who had made me
very unhappy by some prophecies with regard to my hus-
band's health : indeed, she had said he would not live a
couple of years, and I was so excited about it that my
THERE IS NO DEATH. 167
friend Miss Schonberg advised our going then and there to
see Lottie Fowler, who had just arrived in England, and
was staying in Vernon Place, Bloomsbury ; and though it
was late at night, we set off at once. The answer to our
request to see Miss Fowler was that she was too tired to
receive any more visitors that day. " Do ask her to see
me," I urged. "I won't detain her a moment; I only
want to ask her one question." Upon this, we were
admitted, and found Lottie nearly asleep. " Miss Fowler,"
I began, " you told me five years ago that I should be
married a second time. Well, I am married, and now they
tell me I shall loose my husband." And then I told her
how ill he was, and what the doctors said, and what the
medium said. "You told me the truth before," I con-
tinued; " tell it me now. Will he die?" Lottie took a
locket containing his hair in her hand for a minute, and
then replied confidently, " They know nothing about it.
He will not die — that is not yet — not for a long while."
" But whefi ?" 1 said, despairingly. " Leave that to God,
child," she answered, " and be happy now." And in effect
Colonel Lean recovered from his illness, and became
strong and hearty again. But whence did Miss Fowler
gain the confidence to assert that a man whom she had
never seen, nor even heard of, should recover from a disease
which the doctors pronounced to be mortal ? From that
time Lottie and I became fast friends, and continue so to
this day. It is a remarkable thing that she would never
take a sixpence from me in payment for her services,
though I have sat with her scores of times, nor would she
accept a present, and that when she has been sorely in
need of funds. She said she had been told she should
never prosper if she touched my money. She has one of
the most grateful and affectionate and generous natures
possible, and has half-starved herself for the sake of others
who lived upon her. I have seen her under sickness, and
poverty, and trouble, and I think she is one of the kindest-
hearted and best women living, and I am glad of even this
slight opportunity to bear testimony to her disposition.
At one time she had a large and fashionable clientele of
sitters, who used to pay her handsomely for a seance^ but
of late years her clients have fallen off, and her fortunes
have proportionately decreased. She has now returned to
the Southern States of America, and says she has seen the
l68 THERE IS NO DEATH.
last of England. All I can say is, that I consider her a
great personal loss as a referee in all business matters as
well as a prophet for the future. She also, like Bessie
Fitzgerald, is a great medical diagnoser. She was largely-
consulted by physicians about the Court at the time of the
Prince of Wales' dangerous illness, and predicted his
recovery from the commencement. It was through her
mediumship that the body of the late Lord Lindesay of
Balcarres, which was stolen from the family vault, was
eventually recovered ; and the present Lord Lindesay gave
her a beautiful little watch, enamelled and set in diamonds,
in commemoration of the event. She predicted the riot
that took place in London some years ago, and the Tay
Bridge disaster ; but who is so silly as to believe the pro-
phecies of media now-a-days? There has hardly been an
event in my life, since I liave known Lottie Fowler, that
she has not prepared me for beforehand, but the majority
of them are too insignificant to interest the reader. One,
however, the saddest I have ever been called upon to
encounter, was wonderfully foretold. In February, 1886,
Lottie (or rather, '^ Annie ") said to me, " There is a great
trouble in store for you, Florris " (she always called me
" Florris ") ; " you are passing under black clouds, and
there is a coffin hanging over you. It will leave your
house." This made me very uneasy. No one lived in my
house but my husband and myself. I asked, " Is it my own
coffin ? " " No 1 " " Is it my husband's ? " " No ; it is that
of a much younger person."
I questioned her very closely, but she would not tell me
any more, and I tried to dismiss the idea from my mind.
Still it would constantly recur, for I knew, from experience,
how true her predictions were. At last I felt as if I could
bear the suspense no longer, and I went to her and said,
" You must tell me that the coffin you spoke of is not for
one of my children, or the uncertainty will drive me mad."
"Annie" thought a minute, and then said slowly, "No;
it is not for one of your children." " Then I can bear
anything else," I replied. The time went on, and in April an
uncle of mine died. I rushed again to Lottie Fowler. " Is
this the death you prophesied ? " I asked her. " No,"
she replied ; " the coffin must leave your house. But this
death will be followed by another in the family," which it
was within the week. The following February my next-
THERE IS NO DEATH. 169
door neighbors lost their only son. I had known the boy
for years, and I was very sorry for them. As I was watch-
ing the funeral preparations from my bedroom window,
I saw the coffin carried out of the hall door, which adjoined
mine with only a railing between. Knowing that many
prophetical media see \\\t future in a series of pictures, it
struck me that Lottie must have seen this coffin leaving,
and mistaken the house for mine. I went to her again.
This proves how the prediction had weighed all tins time
upon my mind. " Has not the death you spoke of taken
place flow ? " I asked her. " Has not the coffin left my
house ? " " No," she answered ; " it will be a relative, one
of the family. It is much nearer now than it was." I felt
uncomfortable, but I would not allow it to make me un-
happy. " Annie " had said it was not one of my own chil-
dren, and so long as they were spared I felt strong enough
for anything.
In the July following my eldest daughter came to
me in much distress. She had heard of the death of a
friend, one who had been associated with her in her
professional life, and the news had shocked her greatly.
She had always been opposed to Spiritualism. She didn't
see the good of it, and thought I believed in it a great deal
more than was necessary. I had often asked her to accom-
pany me to seanceSy or to see trance media, and she had
refused. She used to say she had no one on tlie other side
she cared to speak to. But when her young friend died,
she begged me to take her to a medium to hear some news
of him, and we went together to Lottie Fowler. " Annie "
did not wait for any prompting, but opened the ball at once.
" You've come here to ask me how you can see your friend
who has just passed over," she said. " Well, he's all right.
He's in this room now, and he says you will see him very
soon." ^' To which medium shall I go ? " said my daughter.
" Don't go to any medium. Wait a little while, and you
will see him with your own eyes." My daughter was a
physical medium herself, though I had prevented her sit-
ting for fear it should injure her health ; and I believed,
with her, that "Annie "meant that her friend would man-
ifest through her own power. She turned to me and said,
" Oh, mother, I shall be awfully frightened if he appears to
me at night;" and " Annie" answered, " No, you won't
be frightened when you see him. You will be very pleased.
I70 THERE IS NO DEATH.
Your meeting will be a source of great pleasure on both
sides." My daughter had just signed a lucrative engagement,
and was about to start on a provincial tour. Her next
request was, " Tell me what you see for me in the future."
" Annie " replied, " I cannot see it clearly. Another day
I may be able to tell you more, but to-day it is all dim.
Every time I try to see it a wall seems to rise behind your
head and shut it out." Then she turned to me and said,
" Florris, that coffin is very near you now. It hangs right
over your head ! " I answered carelessly, " I wish it would
come and have done with it. It is eighteen months now,
Annie, since you uttered that dismal prophecy ! " Little
did I really believe that it was to be so quickly and so ter-
ribly fulfilled. Three weeks after that seance, my beloved
child (who was staying with me) was carried out of my
house in her coffin to Kensal Green. I was so stunned by
the blow, that it was not for some time after that I re-
membered " Annie's " prediction. "When I asked her why
she had tortured me with the suspense of coming evil for
eighteen months, she said she had been told to do so by
my guardian spirits, or my brain would have been injured
by the suddenness of the shock. When I asked why she
had denied it would be one of my children, she still main-
tained that she had obeyed a higher order, because to tell
the truth so long beforehand would have half-killed me as in-
deed it would. " Annie " said she had no idea, even during
that last interview, that the death she predicted was that
of the girl before her. She saw her future was misty, and
that the coffin was over my head, but she did not connect
the two facts together. In like manner I have heard almost
every event of my future through Lottie Fowler's lips, and
she has never yet proved to be wrong, except in one in-
stance of time. She predicted an event for a certain year
and it did not take place till afterwards ; and it has made
" Annie " so wary, that she steadfastly refuses now to give
any dates. I always warn inquirers not to place faith in any
given dates. The spirits have told me they have no time
in the spheres, but judge of it simply as the reflection of the
future appears nearer, or further, from the sitter's face.
Thus, something that will happen years hence appears
cloudy and far off, whilst the events of next week or next
month seem bright and distinct, and quite near. This
is a method of judging which can only be gained by prac-
tice, and must at all times be uncertain and misleading.
THERE IS NO DEATH. 171
I have often acted as amanuensis for Lottie Fowler, for
letters are constantly arriving for her from every part of the
world which can only be answered under trance, and she
has asked me to take down the replies as " Annie " dictated
them. I have answered by this means the most searching
questions from over the seas relating to health and money
and lost articles whilst Lottie was fast asleep and " Annie "
dictated the letters, and have received many answers
thanking me for acting go-between, and saying how won-
derfully correct and valuable the information " Annie " had
sent them had proved to be. Of course, it would be im-
possible, in this paper, to tell of the constant intercourse
I have had with Lottie Fowler during the last ten or twelve
years, and the manner in which she has mapped out my
future for me, preventing my cherishing false hopes that
would never be realized, making bad bargains that would
prove monetary losses, and believing in apparent friend-
ship that was only a cloak for selfishness and treachery.
I have learned many bitter lessons from her lips. I have
also made a good deal of money through her means. She
has told me what will happen to me between this time and
the time of my death, and I feel prepared for the evil and
content with the good. Lottie Fowler had very bad health
for some time before she left England, and it had become
quite necessary that she should go ; but I think if the
British public had known what a wonderful woman was in
their midst, they would have made it better worth her
while to stay amongst them.
/'
OF Tl- .
172 THERE IS NO DEATH.
CHAPTER XX.
THE MEDIUMSHIP OF WILLIAM FLETCHER.
It may be remembered in the " Story of John Powles "that
when, as a perfect stranger to Mr. Fletcher, I walked one
evening into the Steinway Hall, I heard him describe the
circumstances of my old friend's death in a very startling
manner. It made such an impression on me that I became
anxious to hear what more Mr. Fletcher might have to say
to me in private, and for that purpose I wrote and made
an appointment with him at his private residence in Gordon
Square. I did not conceal my name, and I knew my name
must be familiar to him; for although he had only just
arrived from America, I am better known as an author in
that country perhaps than in this. But I had no intention
of gauging his powers by what he told me of my exterior
life ; and by what followed, his guide " Winona " evidently
guessed my ideas upon the subject. After the seance I
wrote thus concerning it to the Banner of Light, a New
York Spiritualistic paper : —
" I had seen many clairvoyants before, both in public
and private, and had witnessed wonderful feats of skill on
their part in naming and describing concealed objects, and
reading print or writing when held far beyond their reach
of sight ; but I knew the trick of all that. If Mr. Fletcher
is going to treat me to any mental legerdemain, I thought,
as I took my way to Gordon Square, I shall have wasted
both my time and trouble upon him ; and, I confess, as I
approached the house, that I felt doubtful whether I might
not be deceived against my senses by the clever lecturer,
whose eloquence had charmed me into desiring a more
intimate acquaintance with him. Even the private life of
a professional person soon becomes public property in
London ; and had Mr. Fletcher wished to find out my
faults and faiUngs, he had but to apply to , say, my
dearest friend, or the one upon whom I had bestowed most
benefits^ to learn the worst aspect of the wotst side of my
THERE IS iVO DEATH. 173
character. But the neat little page-boy answered my sum-
mons so promptly that I had no time to think of turning
back again; and I was ushered through a carpeted hall,
and up a staircase into a double drawing-room, strewn with
evidence that my clairvoyant friend possessed not only
artistic taste, but the means to indulge it. The back room
into which I was shown was hung with paintings and fitted
with a luxurious causeuse, covered with art needlework,
and drawn against the open window, through which miglit
be seen some fine old trees in the garden below, and Mr.
Fletcher's dogs enjoying themselves beneath their shade.
Nothing could be further removed from one's ideas of a
haunt of mystery or magic, or the abode of a man who was
forced to descend to trickery for a livelihood. In a few
minutes Mr. Fletcher entered the room and saluted me
with the air of a gentleman. We did not proceed to busi-
ness, however, until he had taken me round his rooms, and
shown me his favorite pictures, including a portrait of Sara
Bernhardt, etched by herself, in the character of Mrs.
Clarkson in L'Etrangere. After which we returned to
the back drawing-room, and without darkening the win-
dows or adopting any precautions, we took our seats upon
the causeuse facing each other, whilst Mr. Fletcher laid
his left hand lightly upon mine. In the course of a minute
I observed several convulsive shivers pass through his
frame, his eyes closed, and his head sunk back upon the
cushions, apparently in sleep. I sat perfectly still and
silent with my hand in his. Presently he reopened his
eyes quite naturally, and silting upright, began to speak to
me in a very soft, thin, feminine voice. He (or rather his
guide " Winuna ") began by saying that she would not
waste my time on facts that she might have gathered from
the world, but would confine herself to speaking of my
inner life. Thereupon, with the most astonishing astute-
ness, she told me of my thoughts and feelings, reading them
off like a book. She repeated to me words and actions
that had been said and done in privacy hundred of miles
away. She detailed the characters of my acquaintance,
showing who were true and who were false, giving me
their names and places of residence. She told me the
motives I had had for certain actions, and what was more
strange, revealed truths concerning myself which I had not
recognized until they were presented to me through the
174 THERE IS NO DEATH.
medium of a perfect stranger. Every question I put to her
was accurately answered, and I was repeatedly invited to
draw further revelations from her. The fact being that I
was struck almost dumb by what I had heard, and rendered
incapable of doing anything but marvel at the wonderful
gift that enabled a man, not only to read each thought that
passed through my brain, but to see, as in a mirror, scenes
that were being enacted miles away with the actors con-
cerned in them and the motives that animated them,
" Winona" read the future for me as well as the past, and
the first distinct prophecy she uttered has already most
unexpectedly come to pass. When I announced that I was
satisfied, the clairvoyant laid his head back again upon the
cushions, the same convulsive shudders passed through
his frame, and in another minute he was smiling in my
face, and hoping I had a good seance.'''
This is part of the letter I wrote concerning Mr. Fletcher
to the Banner of Light. But a description of words, how-
ever strongly put, can never carry the same weight as the
words themselves. So anxious am I to make this statement
as trustworthy as possible, however, that I will now go
further, and give the exact words as " Winona " spoke them
to me on that occasion, and as I took them down from her
lips. Some parts I must omit, not for my own sake, but
because of the treachery they justly ascribed to persons
still living in this world. But enough will, I trust, remain
to prove how intimately the spirit must have penetrated
to my inner life. This is, then, the greater part of what
*' Winona " said to me on the 27th of June, 1879 :
" You are a Child of Destiny, who never was a child.
Your life is fuller of tragedies than any life I ever read yet.
I will not tell you of the past/a^/x, because they are known
to the world, and I might have heard them from others.
But I will speak of yourself. I have to leave the earth-
world when I come in contact with you, and enter a planet-
ary sphere in which you dwell (and ever must dwell)
alone. It is as if you were in a room shut off from the rest
of mankind. You are one of the world's magnets. You
have nothing really in common with the rest. You draw
people to you, and live upon their life ; and when they
have no more to give, nor you to demand, the liking fades
on both sides. It must be so, because the spirit requires
food the same as the body ; and when the store is
I'HERE IS NO DEATH. 175
exhausted, the affection is starved out, and the persons
pass out of your life. . You have often wondered to your-
self why an acquaintance who seemed necessary to you to-
day you can live perfectly well without to-morrow. This
is the reason. More than that, if you continue to cling to
those whose spiritual system you have exhausted, they
would poison you, instead of nourishing you. You may
not like it, but those you value most you should oftenest
part with. Separation will not decrease your influence
over them ; it will increase it. Constant intercourse may
be fatal to your dearest affections. You draw so much on
others, you empty them, and they have nothing more to
give you. You have often wondered, too, why, after you
have lived in a place a little while, you become sad, weary,
and ill — not physically ill, but mentally so — and you feel
as if you must leave it, and go to another place. When
you settle in this fresh place, you think at first that it is
the very place where you will be content to live and die ;
but after a little while the same weariness and faintness
comes back again, and you think you cannot breathe till
you leave it, as you did the other. This is not fancy. It is
because your nature has exhausted all it can draw from its
surroundings, and change becomes a necessity to life. You
will never be able to live long in any place without change,
and let me warn you never to settle yourself down any-
where with the idea of living there entirely. Were you
forced to do so, you would soon die. You would be starved
to death spiritually. All people are not born under a fate,
but you were, and you can do very little to change it.
England is the country of your fate. You will never pros-
per in health, mind, or money in a foreign country. It is
good to go abroad for change, but never try to live there.
You are thinking of going abroad now, but you will not
remain there nearly so long as you anticipate. Something
will arise to make you alter your plans — not a real trouble
— but an uneasiness. The plan you think of will not
answer." (This prediction was fulfilled to the letter.)
" This year completes an era in your professional career —
not of ill-luck, so much as of stagnation. Your work has
been rather duller of late years. The Christmas of 1879
will bring you brighter fortune. Some one who has appeared
to drop you will come forward again, and take up your
cause, and bring you in much money." (This also came
176 THERE IS NO DEATH.
to pass.) " You have not nearly reached the zenith of
your success. It is yet to come. It is only beginning.
You will have another child, certainly otie, but I am not
sure if it will live in this world. I do not see its earth-life,
but I see you in that condition.
" Your nervous system was for many years strung up to
its highest tension — now it is relaxed, and your physical
powers are at their lowest ebb. You could not bear a
child in your present condition. You must become much
lighter-hearted, more contented and at ease before that
comes to pass. You must have ceased to wish for a child,
or even to expect it. You have never had a heart really
at ease yet. All your happiness has been feverish.
** I see your evil genius. She is out of your life at pre-
sent, but she crossed your path last year, and caused you
much heart-burning, and not without reason. It seems to
me that some sudden shock or accident put an end to the
acquaintance ; but she will cross your path again, and
cause you more misery, perhaps, than anything else has
don She is not young, but stout, and not handsome, as
it seems to me. She is addicted to drinking. I see her
rolling about now under the influence of liquor. She has
been married more than once. I see the name
written in the air. She would go any lengths to take that
you value from you, even to compassing your death. She
is madly in love with what is yours. She would do any-
thing to compass her ends — not only immoral things, but
filth — filth. I have no hesitation in saying this. When-
ever she crosses your path, in public or private, flee from
her as from a pestilence." (This information was correct
in every detail. The name was given at full length. I
repeat it as a specimen of the succinctness of intelligence
given through trance mediumship.) " 1883 will be a most
unfortunate year for you. You will have a severe illness,
your friends will not know if you are going to live or die,
and during this illness you will endure great mental agony,
caused through a woman, one of whose names begins with
THERE IS NO DEATH. I77
, You will meet her some time before, and she will
profess to be your dearest friend. I see her bending over
you, and telling you she is your best friend, and you are
disposed to believe it. She is as tall as you are, but does
not look so tall from a habit she has of carrying herself.
She is not handsome, strictly speaking, but dark and very
fascinating. She has a trick of keeping her eyes down
when she speaks. She is possibly French, or of French
extraction, but speaks English. She will get a hold upon
's mind that will nearly separate you." (At this junc-
ture I asked, " How can I prevent it ? ") " If I told you,
that if you went by the 3 o'clock train from Gower Street,
you would be smashed, you would not take that train.
When you meet a woman answering this description, stop
and ask yourself whether she is the one I have warned
you against, before you admit her across the threshold of
your house.
" 's character is positive for good, and negative for
evil. If what is even for his good were urged upon him, he
would refuse to comply ; but present evil to him as a
possible good, and he will stop to consider whether it is not
so. If he is to be guided aright, it must be by making him
believe it would be impossible for him to go wrong.
Elevate his nature by elevating his standard of right.
Make it impossible for him to lower himself, by convincing
him that he would be lowered. He is very conceited.
Admiration is the breath of his life. He is always thinking
what people will say of him or his actions. He is very weak
under temptation, especially the temptation of flattery. He
is much too fond of women. You have a difficult task
before you, and you have done much harm already through
your own fault. He believes too little in the evil of others
— much too little. If he were unfaithful to those who trust
him, he would be quite surprised to find he had broken
their hearts. Your work is but beginning. Hitherto all
has been excitement, and there has been but little danger.
Now comes monotony and the fear of satiety. Your fault
through life has been in not asserting the positive side of
your character. You were born to rule, and you have sat
down a slave. Either through indolence or despair of suc-
12
X78 THERE IS NO DEATH.
cess, you have presented a negative side to the insults
offered you, and in the end you have been beaten. You
make a great mistake in letting your female friends read
all your joys and sorrows. Men would sympathize and
pity. Women will only take advantage of them. Assert
your dignity as mistress in your own house, and don't let
those visitors invite themselves who do not come for you.
You are, as it were, the open door for more than one false
friend. I warn you especially against two unmarried women
— at least, if they are married, I don't see their husbands
anywhere. They are both too fond of ; one very much
too fond of him, and you laugh at it, and give your leave
for caresses and endearments, which should never be per-
mitted. If I were to tell them that they visit at your house
for , and not for you, they would be very indignant.
They give you presents, and really like you ; but is
the attraction, and with one of them it only needs time,
place and opportunity to cause the ruin of and your-
self. She has an impediment in walking, I need say no
more. She wants to become still more familiar, and live
under the same roof with you. You must prevent it. The
other is doing more harm to herself than to anyone else.
She is silly and romantic, and must dream of some one.
It is a pity it should be encouraged by familiarity.
has no feeling for them beyond pity and friendship, but it
is not necessary he should love a woman to make her
dangerous to him. As far as I can see your lives extend,
will love you, and you will retain your influence over
him if you choose to do so. But it is in your own hands
what you make of him. You must not judge his nature by
your own. You are shutting yourself up too much. You
should be surrounded by a chcle of men, so that you might
not draw influence from alone. You should go out
more, and associate with clever men, and hear what they
have to say to you. You must not keep so entirely with
It is bad for both of you. You are making too
great a demand upon his spiritual powers, and you will
exhaust them too soon. A woman cannot draw spiritual
life from women only. She must take it from men. There
is another acquaintance I must warn you against ; a
widow, fair hair, light eyes, not clever, but cunning. She
has but one purpose in visiting you. She would like to
stand in your shoes. She would not hesitate to usurp your
THERE IS NO DEATH, 1 79
rights. Be civil to her if you will, but do not encourage
her visits. It were best if she passed out of your lives
altogether. She can never bring you any good luck. She
may be the cause of much annoyance yet. should
have work, active and constant, or his health will fail,
living in idleness, spiritually and bodily. You tell him too
often that you love him. Let him feel there is always a
higher height to gain, a lower depth to fall to, in your
esteem. He is not the only man in the world. Why should
you deceive him by saying so ? You are much to blame."
(Considering that Mr. Fletcher had never seen, or, as far
as I knew, heard of tlie persons he mentioned in this tirade,
it becomes a matter of speculation where or from whom he
gathered this keen insight to their character and person-
alities, every word of which I can vouch for as being strictly
true.)
'♦Many spirits are round you. Some wish to speak.
A grand and noble spirit stands behind
you, with his hands spread in blessing over your head. He
is your father. He sends this message : ' My dear child,
there were so many influences antagonistic to my own in
your late married life, that I found it very difficult to get
near you. Now they are removed. The present conditions
are much more favorable to me, and I hope to be with
you often, and to help you through the life tliat lies before
you. There is the face of a glorified spirit, just above your
head, and I see the name 'Powles.' This spirit is nearer
you, and more attached to you than any other in Spirit
Land. He comes only to yau, and one other creature
through you — your second child. He says you will know
him by the token, the song you sung to him upon his
death-bed. His love for you is the best and purest, and
he is always by you, though lower influences sometimes
forbid his manifesting himself. Your child comes floating
down, and joins hands with him. She is a very pure and
beautiful spirit.'. She intimates that her name on earth was
the same as yours, but she is called by another name in
the spheres — a name that has something to do with flowers.
She brings me a bunch of pure white lilies, tinged with
blue, with blue petals, tied with a piece of blue ribbon,
and she intimates tome by gesture that her spirit-name has
something to do with them. I think I must go now,
tut I hope you will come and sit with me again. I shall
l8o THERE IS NO DEATH.
be able to tell you more next time. My name is ' Winona,'
and when you ask for me I will come. Good-bye "
This was the end of my first seance with Mr. Fletcher,
and I think even sceptics will allow that it was sufficiently
startling for the first interview with an entire stranger.
The following year I wrote again to the Batmer of Light
concerning Mr. Fletcher, but will only give an extract from
my letter. " I told you in my letter of last year that I
had held a seance with Mr. Fletcher of so private a nature
that it was impossible to make it public. During that
interview * Winona ' made several startling prophecies con-
cerning the future, which, it may interest your readers to
know, have already been fulfilled. Wishing to procure
some further proofs of Mr. Fletcher's power before I wrote
this letter to you, I prepared a different sort of test for him
last week. From a drawer full of old letters I selected,
with my eyes shut, four folded sheets of paper, which I
slipped into four blank envelopes, ready prepared for them
— still without looking — and closed them in the usual
manner with the adhesive gum, after which I sealed them
with sealing wax. I carried these envelopes to Mr. Fletcher,
and requested "Winona" to tell me the characters of the
persons by whom their contents had been written. She
placed them consecutively to the medium's forehead, and
as she returned them to me, one by one, I wrote her com-
ments on each on the side of the cover. On breaking the
seals, the character of each writer was found to be most
accurately defined, although the letters had all been written
years before — (a fact which " Winona " had immediately
discovered). She also told me which of my correspondents
were dead, and which living. Here, you will observe,
there could have been no reaction of my own brain upon
that of the sensitive, as I was perfectly ignorant, until I
reopened the envelopes, by whom the letters had been sent
to me. Two months ago I was invited to join in a specu-
lation, of the advisability of which I felt uncertain. I went
therefore to Mr. Fletcher, and asked for an interview with
" Winona," intending to consult her in the matter. But
before I had time to mention the subject, she broached it
to me, and went on to speak of the speculation itself, of
the people concerned in it, and the money it was expected
to produce ; and, finally, she explained to me how it would
collapse, with the means that would bring it to an end,
THERE IS NO DEATH. i8i
putting her decided veto on my having anything to do with
it. I followed " Winona's " advice, and have been thankful
since that I did so, as everything has turned out just as
she predicted."
I think those people who desire to gain the utmost good
they can out of clairvoyance should be more ready to
h'sten and learn, and less to cavil and to question. Many
who have heard me relate the results of my experience
have rushed off pell-mell to the same medium, perhaps,
and came away woefully disappointed. Were they to
review the interview they would probably find they had
done all the talking, and supplied all the information, leav-
ing the clairvoyant no work to do whatever. To such I
always say, whether their aim is to obtain advice in their
business, or news of a lost friend. Be perfectly passive,
until the medium has said all he or she may have to say.
Give them time to become en rapport with you, and quiet-
ude, that he may commune with the spirits you bring with
you ; for it is they, and not his controls, that furnish him
with the history of your life, or point out the dangers that
are threatening. When he has finished speaking, he will
probably ask if you have any questions to put to him, and
then is your turn for talking, and for gaining any particular
information you may wish to acquire. If these directions
are carried out, you are likely to have a much more satis-
factory seance than otherwise.
l82 THERE IS NO DEATH.
CHAPTER XXI.
PRIVATE MEDIA.
People who wish to argue against Spiritualism are quite
sure, as a rule, that media will descend to any trickery
and cheating for the sake of gain. If you reply, as in my
own case, that the seances have been given as a free-will
offering, they say that they expected introductions or
popularity or advertisement in exchange. But what can
be adduced against the medium who lends his or her
powers to a person whom he has never seen, and probably
never will see, and for no reason, excepting that his con-
trols urge him to the deed ? Such a man is Mr. George
Plummer of Massachusetts, America. In December, 1887,
when my mind was very unsettled, my friend Miss Schon-
berg advised me to write to this medium and ask his ad-
vice. She told me I must not expect an immediate reply,
as Mr. Plummer kept a box into which he threw all the
letters he received from strangers on spiritualistic subjects,
and when he felt impressed to do so, he went and took
out one, haphazard, and wrote the answer that was dic-
tated to him. All I had to do was to enclose an addressed
envelope, not a stafnped one, in my letter, to convey the
answer back again. Accordingly, I prepared a diplomatic
epistle to this effect. " Dear sir, — Hearing that you are
good enough to sit for strangers, I shall be much obliged
if you will let me know what you see for me. — Yours truly,
F. Lane." It will be seen that I transposed the letters oif
my name " Lean." I addressed the return envelope in
the same manner to the house in Regent's Park, which I
then occupied, and I wrote it all in a feigned hand to con-
ceal my identity as much as possible. The time went on
and I heard nothing from Mr. Plummer. I was touring
in the provinces for the whole of 1888, and at the end of
the year I came back to London and settled down in a
new house in a different quarter of the town. By this time
I had almost forgetten Mr. Plummer and my letter to him,
THERE IS NO DEATH. 183
and when in December^ 1889, two years after I had sent it,
my own envelope in my own handwriting, forwarded by
the postal authorities from Regent's Park, was brought to
me, I did not at first recognize it. I kept twisting it about,
and thinking how like it was to my own writing, when the
truth suddenly flashed on me. I opened it and read as
follows :
" Georgetown, November 28th, 1889.
"Mrs. Lane, — Dear Madam, — Please pardon me for seeming
neglect in answering your request. At the time of receiving your letter
I could not write, and it got mislaid. Coming across it now, even at
the eleventh hour, I place myself in condition to answer. I see a lady
with dark blue eyes before me, of a very nervous life — warm-hearted —
impulsive — tropical in her nature. A woman of intense feeling — a
woman whose life has been one of constant disappointment. To-day
the current of life flows on smoothly but monotonous. I sense from
the sphere of this lady, a weariness of life — should think she felt like
Alexander, because there are no more worlds for her to conquer. She
is her own worst enemy. Naturally generous, she radiates her refined
magnetic sphere to others, and does not get back that which she can
utilize. I see a bright -complexioned gentleman in earth life — brave,
generous, and kind — but does not comprehend your interior life. And
yet thinks the world of you to-day. I feel from you talent of a marked
order. And yet life is a disappointment. Not but what you have
been successful in a refined, worldly sense, but your spiritual nature
has been repressed. The society you move in is one of intellectual cul-
ture ; that is not of the soul. And it is soul food that you are hungering
for to-day. You are an inspired woman. Thought seems to you, all
prepared, so to speak. But it does not seem to free the tiny little mes-
sengers of your soul life. Somehow I don't feel that confidence in my-
self in writing to you. The best kind of a reading is usually obtained
in reading to a person direct. But it I don't meet your case we will
call it a failure and let it go. The year of 1890 is going to be more
favorable to you than for the last ten years. I think in some way you
are to meet with more reciprocity of soul. As the divining rod points
to the stream of water in the earth, so I find my intuitive eye takes
cognizance of your interior life. You will in a degree catch my mean-
ing through this, and it will come clearer, more through your intuition
than through your intellect. I should say to you, follow your instincts
and intuitions always through life. If this throws any light over your
path I am glad.— I remain, most respectfully yours,
George Plummer."
Now there are two noticeable things in this letter. First,
Mr. Pluramer's estimate of my interior life almost coincides
with Mr. Fletcher's given in 1879, ten years before. Next,
although he read it through the medium of a letter written
i84 THERE IS NO DEATH.
in 1887, he draws a picture of my position and surround-
ings in 1889. Both these things appeared to me very
curious as coming from a stranger across the Atlantic, and
I answered his letter at once, still preserving my slight
incognita, and telling him that as he had read so much of
my life from my handwriting of so long ago, I wished he
would try to read more from words which went fresh from
me to him. I also enclosed a piece of the handwriting of
a friend. Mr. Plummer did not keep me waiting this time.
His next letter was dated February 8th, 1890.
" Dear Madam, — I received yours of January 3rd, and would have
answered before, but the spirit did not move. I have been tied to a
sickroom going on three months, with its cares and anxieties. Not
the best condition for writing. The best condition to reflect your life,
to give your soul strength, is to be at rest and have all earth conditions
nullified. But that cannot be to-day. So I will try to penetrate the
mystery of your life as best I can, and radiate to you at least some
strength. The relation of soul is the difficulty of your life, and you
are so perfectly inspirational that it makes the condition worse. Grand
types of Manhood and Womanhood come to you from the higher life,
and your spirit and soul catch the reflection, and are disappointed be-
cause they cannot live that life. But you are getting a development
out of all this friction. Now if you would come in contact with that
nature that could radiate to you just what you could give to it, you
would be happy. Love is absolute, you well know. Often in the
exchange of thought we give each other strength. And then every
letter we write, every time we shake hands, we give some of our own per-
sonality out. You are too sensitive to the spheres of people. You
have such a strong personality of life that the power that inspires you
could not make the perfect junction until you get so, you had rather die
than live. That was a condition of negation. Now you have been
running on a dead level of nothingness for two years and a half."
(This was exactly the time since my daughter had been taken from
me). ^^ I mean it seems so to you. Such a sameness of things. I get
from the writing of the gentleman. A good sphere — warmhearted —
true to his understanding of things. He seems to be a sort of a half-
way house to you. That is, you roam in the sea of Ideality, down
deep, you know. And he rather holds on to matter-of-fact — sort of
ballast for you. You need it. For you are, in fact, ripe for the other
life, though it is not time to go yet. Although a writer, yet you are a
disappointed one. No mortal but yourself knows this. You have
winged your way in flights, grand and lofty, and cannot /<f« it, is what
is the matter. Now, in time you will, more perfectly than to-day, by
the touch of your pen, portray your soul and its flights. Then I see
you happy. This gentleman is an auxiliary power, whether the power
in full of your life I do not to-day get. You are emphatically a woman
of Destiny, and should follow yom impressions, for through that in-
tuitive law you will be saved. I mean by ' saved,' leap, as it were,
THERE IS NO DEATH. 185
across difficulties instead of going round. For your soul is more posi-
tive and awake to its necessities to-day than ever before in your life,
particularly in the last six months. Body marriages are good under
the physical law — bring certain unfoldments. But when mortal man
and woman reach a certain condition of development, they become
dissatisfied, and yearn for the full fruition of love. And there is no
limitation of this law. Women usually bow to the heart-love law,
that sometimes brings great joy and misery. The time is ripe for
rulers. There will be put into the field men, and more specifically
women, who have exemplified love divine. They will teach the law so
plainly that they who run can read. And it can only be taught by
those who have embodied it. Some years ago, in this country, there
was a stir-up. It did its work in fermentation. The next must be
humanization. The material world must come under the spiritual.
Women will come to the front as inspired powers. This is what comes
to me to write to you to-day. If it brings strength, or one ray of sun-
shine to you, I am glad. — I remain, most respectfully yours,
George Pi^ummer."
Mr. Plummer is not occupying a high position in the
world, nor is he a rich man. He gains no popularity by
his letters — he hears no applause — he reaps no personal
benefit, nor will he take any money. It would be difficult,
with any degree of reason, to charge him with cheating
the public for the sake of emptying their pockets. I fail
to see, therefore, how he can obtain his insight to one's
interior life by mortal means, nor, unless compelled by a
power superior to his own, why he should take the trouble
to obtain it.
Another medium, whose health paid the sacrifice de-
manded of her for the exhibition of a power over which,
at one time, she had no control, and which never brought
her in anything but the thanks of her friends, is Mrs.
Keningale Cook (Mabel Collins), whom I have mentioned
in the " Story of my Spirit Child." There was a photo-
grapher in London, mamed Hudson, who liad been very
successful in developing spirit photographs. He would
prepare to take an ordinary photograph, and on develop-
ing the plate, one or more spirit forms would be found
standing by the sitter, in which forms were recognized the
faces of deceased friends. Of course, the generality of
people said that the plates were prepared beforehand with
vague misty figures, and the imagination of the sitter did
the rest. I had been for some time anxious to test Mr.
Hudson's powers for myself, and one morning very early,
between nine and ten o'clock, I asked Mrs. Cook, as a
1 86 THERE IS NO DEATH.
medium, to accompany me to his studio. He was not per-
sonally acquainted with either of us, and we went so early
that we found him rather unwilling to set to work. Indeed,
at first he declined. We disturbed him at breakfast and
in his shirt sleeves, and he told us his studio had been
freshly painted, and it was quite impossible to use it until
dry. But we pressed him to take our photographs until
he consented, and we ascended to the studio. It was cer-
tainly very difficult to avoid painting ourselves, and the
screen placed behind was perfectly wet. We had not
mentioned a word to Mr. Hudson about spirit photographs,
and the first plate he took out and held up to the light, we
saw him draw his coat sleeve across. When we asked
him what he was doing, he turned to us and said, " Are
you ladies Spiritualists?" When we answered in the
affirmative, he continued, " I rubbed out the plate because
I thought there was something on it, and most sitters
would object. I often have to destroy three or four nega-
tives before I get a clear picture." We begged him not to
rub out any more as we were curious to see the results.
He, consequently, developed three photographs of us,
sitting side by side. The first was too indistinct to be of
any use. It represented us, with a third form, merely a
patch of white, lying on the ground, whilst a mass of hair
was over my knee. " Florence " afterwards informed me
that this was an attempt to depict herself. The second
picture showed Mrs. Cook and myself as before, with
*' Charlie " standing behind me. I have spoken of " Char-
lie " (Stephen Charles Bernard Abbott) in "Curious
Coincidences," and how much he was attached to me and
mine. In the photograph he is represented in his cowl
and monk's frock — with ropes round his waist, and his
face looking down. In the third picture, an old lady in a
net cap and white shawl was standing with her two hands
on Mrs. Cook's shoulders. This was her grandmother,
and the profile was so distinctly delineated, that her father,
Mr. Mortimer Collins, recognized it at once as the portrait
of his mother. The old lady had been a member of the
Plymouth Brethren sect, and wore the identical shawl of
white silk with an embroidered border which she used to
wear during her last years on earth. I have seen many
other spirit photographs taken by Mr. Hudson, but I ad-
here to my resolution to speak only of that which I have
THERE IS NO DEATH. 187
proved by the exercise of my own senses. I have the two
photographs I mention to this day, and have often wished
that Mr. Hudson's removal from town had not prevented
my sitting again to him in order to procure the Ukenesses
of other friends.
Miss Caroline Pawley is a lady who advertises her will-
ingness to obtain messages for others from the spirit world,
but is forbidden by her guides to take presents or money.
I thought at first this must be a ^' ruse." " Surely," I said
to a friend who knew Miss Pawley, " I ought to take
books, or flowers, or some little offering in my hand." '* If
you do she will return them," was the reply. " All that is
necessary is to write and make an appointment, as her
time is very much taken up." Accordingly I did write,
and Miss Pawley kindly named an early date for my visit.
It was but a few months after I had lost my beloved
daughter, and I longed for news of her. I arrived at Miss
Pawley's residence, a neat little house in the suburbs, and
was received by my hostess, a sweet, placid-faced woman,
who looked the embodiment of peace and calm happiness.
After we had exchanged greetings she said to me, " You
have lost a daughter." " I lost one about twenty years
ago — a baby of ten days old," I replied. " I don't mean
her," said Miss Pawley, " I mean a young woman. I will
tell you how I came to know of it. I took out my memo-
randa yesterday and was looking it through to see what
engagements I had made for to-day, and I read the names
aloud to myself. As I came to the entry, ' Mrs. Lean, 3
o'clock,' I heard a low voice say behind me, ' That is my
dear, dear mother ! ' and when I turned round, I saw
standing at my elbow a young woman about the middle
height, with blue eyes and very long brown hair, and she
told me that it is she whom you are grieving for at present."
I made no answer to this speech, for my wound was too
fresh to permit me to talk of her ; and Miss Pawley pro-
ceeded. " Come ! " she said cheerfully, " let us get paper
and pencil and see what the dear child has to say to us."
She did not go under trance, but wrote rapidly for a few
moments and then handed me a letter written in the follow-
ing manner. I repeat (what I have said before) that I do
not test the genuineness of such a manifestation by the act
itself. Anyone might have written the letter, but no one
but myself could recognize the familiar expressions and
188 THERE IS NO DEATH.
handwriting, nor detect the apparent inconsistencies that
made it so convincing. It was written in two different
hands on alternate hnes, the first line being written by
*' Eva," and the next by " Florence," and so on. Now,
my earthly children from their earliest days have never
called me anything but " Mother," whilst " Florence," who
left me before she could speak, constantly calls me
" Mamma." This fact alone could never have been known
to Miss Pawley. Added to which the portion written by
my eldest daughter was in her own clear decided hand,
whilst " Florence's " contribution was in rather a childish,
or " young ladylike " scribble.
The lines ran thus. The italics are Florence's : —
" My own beloved mother.
My dear, dear, dearest Afamma.
You must not grieve so terribly for me.
And knowing all we have taught you, you should not
grieve.
Believe me, I am not unhappy.
Of coiirse not, and she zvill be very happy soon.
But I suffer pain in seeing you suffer.
Dear Mamma, do try to see that it is for the best.
Florence is right. It is best ! dear Mother.
And we shall all meet so soon, you know.
God bless you for all your love for me.
Good-bye, dear, dearest Mamrna.
Your own girl.
Your loving little Florence.^''
I cannot comment on this letter. I only make it public
in a cause that is sacred to me.
To instance another case of mediumship which is exer-
cised for neither remuneration nor applause. I am
obliged in this example to withhold the name, because to
betray their identity would be to ill requite a favor which
was courteously accorded me. I had heard of a family of
tlie name of D who held private sittings once a week,
at which the mother and brothers and sisters gone before
materialized and joined the circle ; and having expressed
my desire, through a mutual acquaintance, to assist at
their seances, Mr. D kindly sent me an invitation to
one. I found he was a high-class tradesman, living in a
THERE IS NO DEATH. 189
good house In the suburbs, and that strangers were very
seldom (if ever) admitted to their circle. Mr. D ex-
plained to me before the seance commenced, that they re-
garded Spiritualism as a most sacred thing, that they sat
only to have communication with their own relations, his
wife and children, and that his wife never manifested except
when they were alone. His earth family consisted of a
young married daughter and her husband, and four or five
children of different ages. He had lost, I think he told me,
a grown-up son, and two little ones. William Haxby, the
medium, whom I wrote of in my chapter " On Sceptics,"
and who had passed over since then, had been intimate
with their family, and often came back to them. These
explanations over, the seance began. The back and front
parlors were divided by lace curtains only. In the back,
where the young married daughter took up her position on
a sofa, were a piano and an American organ. In the front
parlor, which was lighted by an oil lamp, we sat about on
chairs and sofas, but without any holding of hands. In a
very short time the lace curtains parted and a young man's
face appeared. This was the grown-up brother. " Hullo !
Tom," they all exclaimed, and the younger ones went up
and kissed him. He spoke a while to his father, telling
what they proposed to do that evening, but saying his
mother would Qot be able to materialize. As he was
speaking, a little boy stood by his side. " Here's Harry, "
cried the children, and they brought their spirit brother
out into the room between them. He seemed to be about
five years old. His father told him to come and speak to
me, and he obeyed, just like a little human child, and
stood before me with his hand resting on my knee. Then
a little girl joined the party, and the two children walked
about the room, talking to everybody in turn. As we were
occupied with them, we heard the notes of the American
organ. '* Here's Haxby," said Mr. D . " Now we
shall have a treat." (I must say here that Mr. Haxby
was an accomplished organist on earth.) As he heard his
name, he, too, came to the curtains, and showed his face
with its ungainly features, and intimated that he and
" Tom " would play a duet. Accordingly the two instru-
ment pealed forth together, and the spirits really played
gloriously — a third influence joining in with some stringed
instrument. This siance was so much less wonderful than
igo THEJ^ IS NO DEATH.
many I have written of, that I should not have included a
description of it, except to prove that all media do not ply
their profession in order to prey upon their fellow-creatures.
The D family are only anxious to avoid observation.
There could be no fun or benefit in deceiving each other,
and yet they devote one evening in each week to holding
communion with those they loved whilst on earth and feel
are only hidden from them for a little while, and by a
very flimsy veil. Their siances truly carry out the great
poet's belief,
*' Then the forms of the departed
Enter at the open door j
The beloved, the true-hearted,
Come to visit me once more.
With a slow and noiseless footstep
Comes that messenger divine.
Takes the vacant chair beside me.
Lays her gentle hand in mine.
Uttered not, yet, comprehended.
Is the spirit's voiceless prayer.
Soft rebukes, in blessings ended,
Breathing from her lips of air."
In the house of the lady I have mentioned in " The
Story of the Monk," Mrs. Uniacke of Bruges, I have wit-
nessed marvellous phenomena. They were not pleasant
manifestations, very far from it, but there was no doubt
that they were genuine. Whether they proceeded from
the agency of Mrs. Uniacke, my sister Blanche, or a young
lady called Miss Robinson, who sat with them, or from the
power of all three combined, I cannot say, but they had
experienced them on several occasions before I joined
them, and were eager that I should be a witness of them.
We sat in Mrs. Uniacke's house, in a back drawing-room,
containing a piano and several book-cases, full of books —
some of them very heavy. We sat round a table in com-
plete darkness, only we four women, with locked doors
and bolted windows. Accustomed as I was to all sorts of
manifestations and mediumship, I was really frightened by
what occurred. The table was most violent in its move-
ments, our chairs were dragged from under us, and heavy
THERE IS NO DEATH. 19 1
articles were thrown about the room. The more Mrs.
Uniacke expostulated and Miss Robinson laughed, the
worse the tumult became. The books were taken from the
shelves and hurled at our heads, several of the blows seri-
ously hurting us ; the keys of the piano at the further end
of the room were thumped and crashed upon, as if they
would be broken ; and in the midst of it all Miss Robinson
fell prone upon the floor, and commenced talking in
Flemish, a language of which she had no knowledge. My
sister understands it, and held a conversation with the
girl ; and she told us afterwards that Miss Robinson had
announced herself by the name of a Fleming lately de-
ceased in the town, and detailed many events of his life,
and messages which he wished to be delivered to his
family — all of which were conveyed in good and intelligible
Flemish. When the young lady had recovered she re-
sumed her place at the table, as my sister was anxious I
should see another table, which they called " Made-
moiselle " dance, whilst unseen hands thumped the piano.
The manifestation not occurring, however, they thought it
must be my presence, and ordered me away from the table.
I went and stood up close against the folding doors that led
into the front room, keeping my hand, with a purpose, on
the handle. The noise and confusion palpably increased
when the three ladies were left alone. " Mademoiselle,"
who stood in a corner of the room, commenced to dance
about, and the notes of the piano crashed forcibly. There
was something strange to me about the manifestation of
the piano. It sounded as if it were played with feet in-
stead of hands. When the tumult was at its height, I sud-
denly, and without warning, threw open the folding door
and let the light in upon the scene, and I saw the mtisic-
stool mounted on the keyboard and hammering the notes
down. As the light was admitted, both " Mademoiselle "
and the music-stool fell with a crash to the floor, and the
stance was over. The ladies were seated at the table,
and the floor and articles of furniture were strewn with the
books which had been thrown down — the bookshelves
being nearly emptied — and pots of flowers. I was never at
such a pandemonium before or after.
The late Sir Percy Shelley and his wife Lady Shelley,
having no children of their own, adopted a little girl, who,
when about four or five years, was seriously burned about
192 THERE IS NO DEATH,
the chest and shoulders, and confined for some months to
her bed. The child's cot stood in Lady Shelley's bedroom,
and when her adopted mother was about to say her
prayers, she was accustomed to give the little girl a pencil
and piece of paper to keep her quiet. One day the child
asked for pen and ink instead of a pencil, and on being
refused began to cry, and said, " The 7nan said she must
have pen and ink." As it was particularly enjoined that she
must not cry for fear of reopening her wounds. Lady
Shelley provided her with the desired articles, and pro-
ceeded to her devotions. When she rose from them, she
saw to her surprise that the child had drawn an outline of
a group of figures in the Flaxman style, representing
mourners kneeling round a couch with a sick man laid
upon it. She did not understand the meaning of the pic-
ture, but she was struck with amazement at the execution
of it, as was everybody who saw it. From that day she
gave the little girl a sheet of card-board each morning,
with pen and ink, and obtained a different design, the
child always talking glibly of " the man '' who helped her
to draw. This went on until the drawings numbered
thirty or forty, when a '' glossary of symbols "' was written
out by this baby, who could neither write nor spell, which
explained the whole matter. It was then discovered that
the series of drawings represented the life of the soul on
leaving the body, until it was lost " in the Infinity of God "
— a likely subject to be chosen, or understood, by a child
of five. I heard this story from Lady Shelley's lips, and I
have seen (and well examined) the original designs. They
were at one time to be published by subscription, but I
believe it never came to pass. I have also seen the girl
who drew them, most undoubtedly under control. She
was then a young married woman and completely ignorant
of anything relating to Spiritualism. I asked her if she
remembered the circumstances under which she drew the
outlines, and she laughed and said no. She knew she had
drawn them, but she had no idea how. All she could tell
me was that she had never done anything wonderful since,
and she had no interest in Spiritualism whatever.
THERE IS NO DEATH. 193
CHAPTER XXII.
VARIOUS MEDIA.
A VERY Strong and remarkable clairvoyant is Mr. Towns,
of Portobello Road. As a business adviser or foreteller
of the Future, I don't think he is excelled. The inquirer
after prophecy will not find a grand mansion to receive
him in Portobello Road. On the contrary, this soothsayer
keeps a small shop in the oil trade, and is himself only an
honest, and occasionally rather rough spoken, tradesman.
He will see clients privately on any day when he is at
liome, though it is better to make an appointment, but he
holds a circle on his premises each Tuesday evening, to
which everybody is admitted, and where the contribution
is anything you may be disposed to give, from coppers to
gold. These meetings, which are very well attended, are
always opened by Mr. Towns with prayer, after which a
hymn is sung, and the seance commences. There is full
gas on all the time, and Mr. Towns sits in the midst of the
circle. He does not go under trance, but rubs his fore-
head for a few minutes and then turns round suddenly and
addresses members of his audience, as it may seem, promis-
cuously, but it is just as he is impressed. He talks, as a
rule, in metaphor, or allegorically, but his meaning is per-
fectly plain to the person he addresses. It is not only silly
women, or curious inquirers, who attend Mr. Towns'
circles. You may see plenty of grave, and often anxious,
business men around him, waiting to hear if they shall sell
out their shares, or hold on till the market rises ; where
they are to search for lost certificates or papers of value ;
or on whom they are to fix the blame of money or articles
of value that have disappeared. Once in my presence a
serious-looking man had kept his eye fixed on him for some
time, evidently anxious to speak. Mr. Towns turned sud-
denly to him. " You want to know, sir," he commenced,
without any preface, " where that baptismal certificate is
to be found." " I do, indeed," replied the man ; "it is a
13
194 THERE IS NO DEATH.
case of a loss of thousands if it is not forthcoming." "Let
me see," said Mr. Towns, with his finger to his forehead.
" Have you tried a church with a square tower without
any steeple, an ugly, clumsy building, while-washed inside,
standing in a village. Stop ! I can see the registrar books
— the village's name is . The entry is at page 200.
The name is . The mother s name is . Is that
the certificate you want ? " " It is, indeed," said the man ;
"and it is in the church at ?" " Didn't I say it was in
the church at ? " replied Mr. Towns, who does not like
to be doubted or contradicted. " Go and you will find it
there." And the man did go and did find it there. To
listen to the conversations that go on between him and his
clients at these meetings, Mr. Towns is apparently not less
successful with love affairs than with business affairs, and
it is an interesting experience to attend them, if only for
the sake of curiosity. But naturally, to visit him privately
is to command much more of his attention. He will not,
however, sit for everybody, and it is of no use attempting
to deceive him. He is exceedingly keen-sighted into
character, and if he takes a dislike to a man he will tell
him so without the slightest hesitation. No society lies are
manufactured in the little oil shop. A relative of mine,
who was not the most faithful husband in the world, and
who, in consequence, judged of his wife's probity by his
own, went, during her temporary absence, to Mr. Towns to
ask him a delicate question. The lady was well known to
the medium, but the husband he had never seen before,
and had no notion who his sitter was, until he pulled out
a letter from his pocket, thrust it across the table, and
said, " There ! look at that letter and tell me if the writer
is faithful to me." Mr. Towns told me that as he took the
envelope in his hand, he saw the lady's face photographed
upon it, and at the same moment, all the blackness of the
husband's own life. He rose up like an avenging deity
and pointed to the door. " This letter," he said, " was
written by Mrs. . Go ! man, and wash your own hands
clean, and then come and ask me questions about your
wife." And so the " heavy swell " had to slink downstairs
again. I have often gone myself to Mr. Towns before
engaging in any new business, and always received the
best advice, and been told exactly what would occur during
its progress. When I was about to start on the " Golden
THERE IS NO DEATH. 195
Goblin " tour in management with my son — I went to him
to ask if it would be successful. He not only told me what
money it would bring in, but where the weak points would
occur. The drama was then completed, and in course of
rehearsal, and had been highly commended by all who had
heard and seen it. Mr. Towns, however, who had neither
seen nor heard it, insisted it would have to be altered before
it was a complete success. This annoyed me, and I knew
it would annoy my son, the author ; besides, I believed it
was a mistake, so I said nothing about it. Before it had
run a month, however, the alterations were admitted on
all sides to be necessary, and were consequently made.
Everything that Mr. Towns prognosticated on that oc-
sion came to pass, even to the strangers I should encounter
on tour, and how their acquaintance would affect my future
life ; also how long the tour would last, and in which towns
it would achieve the greatest success. I can assure some
of my professional friends, that if they would take the
trouble to consult a trustworthy clairvoyant about their
engagements before booking them, they would not find
themselves so often in the hands of the bogus manager as
they do now. A short time ago I received a summons to
the county court, and although I knew I was in the right,
yet law has so many loopholes that I felt nervous. The
case was called for eleven o'clock on a certain Wednesday,
and the evening before I joined Mr. Towns' circle. When
it came to my turn to question him, I said, " Do you see
where I shall be to-morrow morning ? " He replied, " I
can see you are called to appear in a court-house, but the
case will be put off." " Put off" I repeated, " but it is fixed
for eleven. It can't be put off." " Cases are sometimes
relegated to another court," said Mr. Towns, Then I
thought he had quite got out of his depth, and replied,
" You are making a mistake. This is quite an ordinary
business. It can't go to a higher court. But shall I gain
it ?" ** In the afternoon," said the medium. His answers
so disappointed me that I placed no confidence in them,
and went to the county court on the following morning in
a nervous condition. But he was perfectly correct. The
case was called for eleven, but as the defendant was not
forthcoming, it was passed over, and the succeeding
hearings occupied so much time, that the magistrate
thought mine would never come off, so he relegated it at
196 THERE IS NO DEATH.
two o'clock to another court to be heard before the registrar,
who decided it at once in mv favor, so that T gained it in
the afternoon.
One afternoon in my " green sallet " days of Spiritualism,
when every fresh experience almost made my breath stop,
I turned into the Progressive Library in Southampton Row,
to ask if there were any new media come to town. Mr.
Burns did not know of any, but asked me if I had ever
attended one of Mrs. Olive's seances, a series of which were
being held weekly in the Library Rooms. I had not, and
I bought a half-crown ticket for admission, and returned
there the same evening. When I entered the seance room,
the medium had not arrived, and I had time to take stock
of the audience. It seemed a very sad and serious one.
There was no whispering nor giggling going on, and it
struck me they looked more like patients waiting the
advent of the doctor, than people bound on an evening's
amusement. And that, to my surprise, was what I after-
wards found they actually were, Mrs. Olive did not keep
us long waiting, and when she came in, dressed in a lilac
muslin dress, with her golden hair parted plainly on her
forehead, her very blue eyes, and a sweet, womanly smile
for her circle, she looked as unlike the popular idea of a
professional medium as anyone could possibly do. She sat
down on a chair in the middle of the circle, and, having
closed her eyes, went off to sleep. Presently she sat up,
and, still with her eyes closed, said in a very pleasant, but
decidedly manly, voice : ** And now, my friends, what can
I do for you ? "
A lady in the circle began to ask advice about her
daughter. The medium held up her hand. "■ Stop ! " she ex-
claimed, " you are doing viy work. Friend, your daughter
is ill, you say. Then it is my business to see what is the
matter with her. Will you come here, young lady, and let
me feel your pulse." Having done which, the medium pro-
ceeded to detail exactly the contents of the girl's stomach,
and to advise her what to eat and drink for the future.
Another lady then advanced with a written prescription.
The medium examined her, made an alteration or two in the
prescription, and told her to go on with it till further orders.
My curiosity was aroused, and I whispered to my next
THERE IS NO DEATH 197
neighbor to tell me who the control was. " Sir John
Forbes, a celebrated physician," she replied. " He has
almost as large a connection now as he had when alive."
I was not exactly ill at the time, but I was not strong, and
nothing that my family doctor prescribed for me seemed to
do me any good. So wishing to test the abilities of" Sir
John Forbes," I went up to the medium and knelt down by
her side. " What is the matter with me, Sir John ? " I
begaii. " Don't call me by that name, little friend," he an-
swered ; "we have no titles on this side the world."
" What shall I call you, then ? " I said. " Doctor, plain
Doctor," was the reply, but in such a kind voice. " Then
tell me what is the matter with me, Doctor." " Come nearer,
and I'll whisper it in your ear." He then gave me a detailed
account of the manner in which I suffered, and asked what
I had been taking. When I told him. " All wrong, all
wrong," he said, shaking his head. " Here ! give me a
pencil and paper." I had a notebook in my pocket, with a
metallic pencil, which I handed over to him, and he wrote
a prescription in it. " Take that, and you'll be all the better,
little friend," he said, as he gave it to me back again.
When I had time to examine what he had written, I found
to my surprise that the prescription was in abbreviated
Latin, with the amount of each ingredient given in the
regular medical shorthand. Mrs. Olive, a simple though
intelligent looking woman, seemed a very unlikely person
to me to be educated up to this degree. However, I
determined to obtain a better opinion than my own, so the
next time my family doctor called to see me, I said : " I
have had a prescription given me. Doctor, which I am
anxious, with your permission, to try. I wish you would
glance your eye over it and see if you approve of my taking
it." At the same time I handed him the note-book, and I
saw him grow very red as he looked at the prescription.
" Anything wrong ? " I inquired. " O ! dear no ! " he re-
plied in an offended tone ; " you can try your remedy,
and welcome, for aught I care — only, next time you wish
to consult a new doctor, I advise you to dismiss the old
one first." " But this prescription was not written by a
doctor," I argued. At this he looked still more offended.
" It's no use trying to deceive me, Mrs. Ross-Church !
That prescription was written by no one but a medical
man." It was a long time before I could make him really
198 THERE IS NO DEATH.
believe who had transcribed it, and under what circum-
stances. When he was convinced of the truth of my state-
ment, he was very much astonished, and laid all his pro-
fessional pique aside. He did more. He not only urged
me to have the prescription made up, but he confessed that
his first chagrin was due to the fact that he felt he should
have thought of it himself. " That,'' he said, pointing to
one ingredient, " is the very thing to suit your case, and
it makes me feel such a fool to think that a woman should
think of what /passed over."
Nothing would make this doctor believe in Spiritualism,
though he continued to aver that only a medical man could
have prescribed the medicine ; but as I saw dozens of
other cases treated at the time by Mrs. Olive, and have
.seen dozens since, I know that she does it by a power not
her own. For several years after that " Sir John Forbes "
used to give me advice about my health, and when his
medium married Colonel Greek and went to live in Russia,
he was so sorry to leave his numerous patients, and they to
lose him, that he wanted to control me in order that I
might carry on his practice, but after several attempts he
gave it up as hopeless. He said my brain was too active
for any spirit to magnetize ; and he is not the first, nor last,
who has made the same attempt, and failed. " Sir John
Forbes " was not Mrs. Olive's only control. She had a
charming spirit called " Sunshine," who used to come for
clairvoyance and prophecy ; and a very comical negro
named " Hambo," who was as humorous and full of native
wit and repartee, as negroes generally are, and as Mrs.
Olive, who is a very gentle, quiet woman, decidedly was
not. " Hambo " was the business adviser and director, and
sometimes materialized, which the others did not. These
three influences were just as opposite from one another,
and from Mrs. Olive, as any creatures could possibly be.
"Sir John Forbes," so dignified, courteous, and truly bene-
volent — such a thorough old gentleman ; " Sunshine," a
sweet, sympathetic Indian girl, full of gentle reproof for
wrongand exhortations to lead a higher life ; and " Hambo,"
humorous and witty, caUing a spade a spade, and occa-
sionally descending to coarseness, but never unkind or
wicked. I knew them all over a space of years until I
regarded them as old friends. Mrs. Greek is now a widow,
and residing in England, and, I hear, sitting again for her
THERE IS NO DEATH. 199
friends. If so, a great benefit in the person of " Sir John
Forbes " has returned for a portion of mankind.
I have kept a well-known physical medium to the last,
not because I do not consider his powers to be completely
genuine, but because they are of a nature that will not
appeal to such as have not witnessed them. I allude to
Mr. Charles Williams, with whom I have sat many times
alone, and also with Mrs, Guppy Volckman. The mani-
festations that take place at his j-(frt!«r<?jare always material.
The much written of " John King " is his principal control,
and invariably appears under his mediumship ; and " Ern-
est " is the name of another. I have seen Charles Williams
leave the cabinet under trance and wander in an aimless
manner about the room, whilst both " John King " and
" Ernest " were with the circle, and have heard them re-
prove him for rashness. I have also seen him under the
same circumstances, during an afternoon seance, mistake
the window curtains for the curtains of the cabinet, and
draw them suddenly aside, letting the full light of day in
upon the scene, and showing vacancy where a moment
before two figures had been standing and talking.
Once when " John King " asked Colonel Lean what he
should bring him, he was told mentally to fetch the half-
hoop diamond ring from my finger and place it on that of
my husband.
This half-hoop ring was worn between my wedding ring
and a heavy gold snake ring, and I was holding the hand
of my neighbor all the time, and yet the ring was abstract-
ed from between the other two and transferred to Colonel
Lean's finger without my being aware of the circumstance.
These and various other marvels, I have seen under Mr.
Williams' mediumship ; but as I can adduce no proof that
they were genuine, except ray own conviction, it would
be useless to write them down here. Only I could not
close the list of the media with whom I have familiarly sat
in London, and from whom I have received both kindness
and courtesy, without including his name. It is the same
with several others — with Mr. Frank Heme (now deceased)
and his wife Mrs. Heme, whom I first knew as Mrs. Bas-
sett, a famous medium for the direct spirit voice ; with
Mrs. Wilkinson, a clairvoyant who has a large clientele of
wealthy and aristocratic patrons ; with Mrs. Wilkins and
Mr.^Vango, both reliable, though, as yet, less well known
200 THERE IS NO DEATH,
to the spiritualistic public ; and with Dr. Wilson, the
astrologer, who will tell you all you have ever done, and
all you are ever going to do, if you will only give him the
opportunity of casting your horoscope. To all and each I
tender my thanks for having afforded me increased oppor-
tunities of searching into the truth of a science that
possesses the utmost interest for me, and that has given
me the greatest pleasure.
THERE IS NO DEATH. 20I
CHAPTER XXIII.
ON LAYING THE CARDS.
At the risk of being laughed at, I cannot refrain, in the
course of ihis narrative of my spiritualistic experiences,
from saying a few words about what is called " laying the
cards." " Imagine ! " I fancy I hear some dear creature
with nose " tip-tilted like a flower " exclaim, " any sensible
woman believing in cards." And yet Napoleon believed in
them, and regulated the fate of nations by them ; and the
only times he neglected their admonitions were followed by
the retreat from Moscow and the defeat at Waterloo. Still
I did not believe in card-telling till the belief was forced
upon me. I always thought it rather cruel to give imprison-
ment and hard labor to old women who laid the cards for
servant girls. Who can tell whether or no it is obtaining
money upon false pretences ; and if it is, why not inflict
the same penalty on every cheating tradesman who sells
inferior articles or gives short weight ? Women would be
told they should look after their own interests in the one
case — so why not in the other ? But all the difference lies
in who lays the cards. Very few people can do it success-
fully, and my belief is that it must be done by a person with
mediumistic power, which, in some mysterious manner,
influences the disposition of the pack. I have seen cards
shufiled and cut twenty times in the hope of getting rid of
some number antagonistic to the inquirer's good fortune,
and yet each time the same card would turn up in the
juxtaposition least to be desired. However, to narrate my
own experience. When I was living in Brussels, years
before I heard of modern Spiritualism, I made the acquaint-
ance of an Irish lady called Mrs. Thorpe, a widow who was
engaged as a chdperon for some young Belgian ladies of
high birth, who had lost their mother. We lived near each
other, and she often came in to have a chat with me.
After a while I heard through some other friends that Mrs.
Thorpe was a famous hand at "laying the cards;" and
202 THERE IS NO DEATH.
one day, when we were alone, I asked her to tell me my
fortune. I didn't in the least believe in it, but I wanted
to be amused. Mrs. Thorpe begged to be excused at once.
She told me her predictions had proved so true, she was
afraid to look into futurity any more. She had seen a son
and heir for a couple who had been married twenty years
without having any children, and death for a girl just
about to become a bride — and both had come true ; and,
in fact, her employer, the Baron, had strictly forbidden
her doing it any more whilst in his house. However, this
only fired my curiosity, aiid 1 teased her until, on my
promising to preserve the strictest secrecy, she complied
with my request. She predicted several things in which I
had little faith, but which I religiously wrote down in case
they came true — the three most important being that my
husband, Colonel Ross-Church (who was then most seri-
ously ill in India), would not die, but that his brother,
Edward Church, would ; that I should have one more child
by my first marriage — a daughter with exceedingly fair skin
and hair, who would prove to be the cleverest of all my
children, and that after her birth I should never hve with
my husband again. All these events were most unlikely
to come to pass at that time, and, indeed, did not come to
pass for years afterwards, yet each one was fulfilled, and
the daughter who, unlike all her brothers and sisters, is
fair as a lily, will be by no means the last in the race for
talent. Yet these cards were laid four years before her
birth. Mrs. Thorpe told me she had learnt the art from a
pupil of the identical Italian countess who used to lay the
cards for the Emperor Napoleon. But it is not an art, and
it is not to be learnt. It is inspiration.
Many years after this, when I had just begun to study
Spiritualism, my sister told me of a wonderful old lady, a
neighbor of hers, who had gained quite an evil reputation
in the village by her prophetical powers with the cards.
Like Mrs. Thorpe, she had become afraid of herself, and
professed to have given up the practice. The last time
she had laid them, a girl acquaintance had walked over
joyously from an adjacent village to introduce her affianced
husband to her, and to beg her to tell them what would
happen in their married life. The old lady had laid the
cards, and saw the death card turn up three times with the
marriage ring, and told the young people, much to their
THERE IS NO DEATH. 203
chagrin, that they must prepare for a disappointment, as
their marriage would certainly be postponed from some
obstacle arising in the way. She told me afterwards that
she dared not tell them more than this. They left her
somewhat sobered, but still full of hope, and started on
their way home. Before they reached it the young man
staggered and fell down dead. No one had expected such
a catastrophe. He had been apparently in the best of
health and spirits. What was it that had made this old
lady foresee what no one else had seen ?
These are no trumped-up tales after the prediction had
been fulfilled. Everyone knew it to be true, and became
frightened to look into the future for themselves. I was an
exception to the general rule, however, and persuaded Mrs.
Simmonds to lay the cards for me. I had just completed
a two months' sojourn at the seaside, was in robust health,
and anticipating my return home for the sake of meeting
again with a friend who was very dear to me. I shuffled
and cut the cards according to directions. The old lady
looked rather grave. " I don't like your cards," she said,
" there is a good deal of trouble before you — trouble and
sickness. You will not return home so soon as you antici-
pate. You will be detained by illness, and when you do
return, you will find a letter on the table that will cut you
to the heart. I am sorry you have stayed away so long.
There has been treachery in your absence, and a woman
just your opposite, with dark eyes and hair, has got the
better of you. However, it will be a sharp trouble, but
not a lengthy one. You will see the wisdom of it before
long, and be thankful it has happened." I accepted my
destiny with complacency, never supposing (notwithstand-
ing all that I had heard) that it would come true. I was
within a few days of starting for home, and had received
affectionate letters from my friend all the time I had been
away. However, as Fate and the cards would have it, I
was taken ill the very day after they were laid for me, and
confined for three weeks with a kind of low feve.r to my
bed ; and when weakened and depressed I returned to my
home I found the letter on my table that Mrs. Simmonds
had predicted for me, to say that my friendship with my
(supposed) friend was over and done with for ever. After
this I began to have more respect for cards, or rather for
the persons who successfully laid them. In 1888, when I
204 THERE IS NO DEATH.
Was touring with my company with the " Golden Goblin,"
I stayed for the first time in my life in Accrington. Our
sojourn there was to be only for a week, and, as may be
supposed, the accommodation in the way of lodgings was
very poor. When we had been there a iQw days a lady of
tlie company said to mc, " There is such a funny old
woman at my lodgings, Miss Marryat ! I wish you'd come
and see her. She can tell fortunes with the cards, and I
know you believe in such things. She has told my husband
and me all about ourselves in the most wonderful manner;
but you mustn't come when the old man is at home, be-
cause he says it's devilry, and he has forbidden her doing
it." " I atn very much interested in that sort of thing," I
replied, " and I will certainly pay her a visit, if you will
tell me when I may come." A time was accordingly fixed
for my going to the lady's rooms, and on my arrival there
I was introduced to a greasy, snuffy old landlady, who
didn't look as if she had a soul above a bottle of gin.
However, I sat down at a table with her, and the cards
were cut. She told me nothing that my friends might have
told her concerning me, but dived at once into the future.
My domestic affairs were in a very complicated state at
that period, and I had no idea myself how they would end.
She saw the whole situation at a glance — described the
actors in the scene, the places they lived in, the people by
whom they were surrounded, and exactly how the whole
business would end, and did end. She foretold the
running of the tour, how long it would last, and which of
the company would leave before it concluded. She told
me that a woman in the company, whom I believed at that
time to be attached to me, would prove to be one of my
greatest enemies, and be the cause of estrangement between
me and one of my nearest relations, and she opened my
eyes to that woman's character in a way which forced me
afterwards to find out that to which I might have been
blind forever. And this information emanated from a dirty,
ignorant, old lodging keeper, who had probably never
heard of my name until it was thrust before her, and yet
told me things that my most intimate and cleverest friends
had no power to tell me. After the woman at Accrington
I never looked at a card for the purpose of divination until
my attention was directed last year to a woman in London
who is very clever at the same thing, and a friend asked
THERE IS NO DEATH. 205
me to go with her and see what she could tell us. This
woman, who is quite of the lower class, and professedly a
dressmaker, received us in a bedroom, the door of which
was carefully locked. She was an elderly woman and
rather intelligent and well educated for her position, but'
she could adduce no reason whatever for her facility in
reading the cards. She told me " it came to her," she didn't
know why or how.
It " came to her " with a vengeance for me. She rattled
off my past, present and future as if she had been reading
from an open book, and she mentioned the description of a
person (which I completely recognized) so constantly with
reference to my future, that I thought I would try her by a
question. " Stop a minute," I said, " this person whom
you have alluded to so often — have I ever met him ? "
" Of course you have met him," she replied, " you know
him intimately." " I don't recognize the description," I
returned, fallaciously. The woman turned round and
looked me full in the face. " You don't recognize him .?"
she repeated in an incredulous tone, " then you must be
very dull. Well ! I'll tell you how to recognize him. Next
time you meet a gentleman out walking who raises his hat,
and before he shakes hands with you, draws a written
or printed paper from his pocket and presents it to
you, you can remember my words. That is the man I
mean."
I laughed at the quaintness of the idea and returned
home. As I was walking from the station to my own
house I met the person she had described. As he neared
me he raised his hat, and then putting his hand in his
pocket he said, " Good afternoon ! I have something for
you ! I met Burrows this morning. He was going on to
you, but as he was in a great hurry he asked me if I was
likely to see you to-day to give you this." And he pre-
sented me with a printed paper of regulations which I had
asked the man he mentioned to procure for me.
Now, here was no stereotyped utterance of the cards — no
stock phrase — but a deliberate prophecy of an unfulfilled
event. It is upon such things that I base my opinion that,
given certain persons and certain circumstances, the cards
are a very fertile source of information, It is absurd in
cases like those I have related to lay it all down to chance,
to clever guessing, or to trickery. If my readers believe so,
2o6 THERE IS NO DEATH*
let me ask them to try it for themselves. If it is all folly,
and any stupid, ignorant old woman can do it, of course
they must be able to master the trick. Let them get a
pack of cards and lay them according to the usual direc-
•tions — there are any number of books published that will
tell them how to do it — and then see if they can foretell a
single event of importance correctly. They will probably
find (as /do) that the cards are a sealed book to them. I
would give a great deal to be able to lay the cards with any
degree of success for myself or my friends. But nothing
"comes to me." The cards remain painted pieces of card-
board, and nothing more. And yet an ignorant creature
who has no brains of her own can dive deep into the
mysteries of my mind, and turn my inmost thoughts and
wishes inside out, — more, can pierce futurity and tell
me what shall be. However, if my hearers continue to
doubt my story, I can only repeat my admonition to try
it for themselves. If they once succeed, they will not give
it up again.
THERE IS NO DEATH. 807
CHAPTER XXIV.
SPIRITUALISM IN AMERICA.
I. Mrs. M. A. Williams.
I WENT to America on a professional engagement in Octo-
ber, 1884. Some months beforehand a very liberal offer
had been made me by the Spiritualists of Great Britain to
write my experiences for the English press, but I declined
to do so until I could add my American notes to them. I
had corresponded (as I have shown) with the Ban?ier of
Light in New York; and what I had heard of Spiritualism
in America had made me curious to witness it. But I was
determined to test it on a strictly private plan. I said to
myself : *' I have seen and heard pretty nearly all there is
to be seen and heard on the subject in England, but, with
one or two exceptions, I have never sat at any seance
where I was not known. Now I am going to visit a strange
country where, in a matter like Spiritualism, I can conceal
my identity, so as to afford the media no clue to my sur-
roundings or the names of my deceased friends." I sailed
for America quite determined to pursue a strictly secret
investigation, and with that end in view I never mentioned
the subject to anyone.
I had a few days holiday in New York before proceed-
ing to Boston, where my work opened, and I stayed at
one of the largest hotels in the city. I landed on Sunday
morning, and on Monday evening I resolved to make my
first venture. Had I been a visitor in London, I should
have had to search out the right sort of people, and make
a dozen inquiries before I heard where the media were
hiding themselves from dread of the law ; but they order
such things better on the other side of the Atlantic. People
are allowed to hold their private opinions and their private
religion there without being swooped down upon and
clapi)ed into prison for rogues and vagabonds. Whatever
the views of the majority may be, upon this subject or any
2o8 THERE IS NO DEATH.
other (and Heaven knows I would have each man strong
enough to ding to his opinion, and brave enough to
acknowledge it before the world), I think it is a discredit
to a civilized country to allow old laws, that were made
when we were little better than savages, to remain in force
at the present day. We are far too much over-ridden by
a paternal Government, which has grown so blind and
senile that it swallows camels while it is straining after a
gnat.
There was no obstacle to my wish, however, in New
York. I had but to glance down the advertisement columns
of the newspapers to learn where the media lived, and on
what days they held their public seaticcs. It so happened
that Mrs. M. A. Williams was the only one who held open
house on Monday evenings for Materialization ; and thither
I determined to go. There is no such privacy as in a large
hotel, where no one has the opportunity to see what his
neighbor is doing. As soon, therefore, as my dinner was
concluded, I put on a dark cloak, hat and veil, and walk-
ing out into the open, got into one of the cars that ran
past the street where Mrs. Williams resided. Arrived at
the house, I knocked at the door, and was about to inquire
if there was to be any seance there, that evening, when the
attendant saved me the trouble by saying, " Upstairs, if
you please, madam," and nothing more passed between us.
When I had mounted the stairs, I found myself in a large
room, the floor of which was covered with a thick carpet,
nailed all round the wainscotting. On one side were some
thirty or forty cane-bottomed chairs, and directly facing
them was the cabinet. This consisted of four uprights
nailed over the carpet, with iron rods connecting them at
the top. There was no roof to it, but curtains of a dark
maroon color were usually drawn around, but when I
entered, they were flung back over the iron rods, so as to
disclose the interior. There was a stuffed armchair for the
use of the medium, and in front of the cabinet a narrow
table with papers and pencils on it, the use of which I did
not at first discover. At the third side of the room was a
harmonium, so placed that the performer sat with his back
both to the cabinet and the sitters. A large gas lamp,
almost like a limelight, made in a square form like a lan-
tern, was fixed against the wall, so as to throw the light
upon the cabinet, but it was fitted with a sliding shade of
THERE IS NO DEATH. 209
red silk, with which it could be darkened if necessary. I
was early, and only a few visitors were occupying the chairs.
I asked a lady if I might sit where I chose, and on her
answering " Yes," I took the chair in the front row, exactly
opposite the cabinet, not forgetting that I was there in the
cause of Spiritualism as well as for my own interests. The
seats filled rapidly and there must have been ihirty-five or
forty people present, when Mrs, Williams entered the
room, and nodding to those she knew, went into the cabi-
net. Mrs. Williams is a stout woman of middle age, with
dark hair and eyes, and a fresh complexion. She was
dressed in a tight-fitting gown of pale blue, with a good
deal of lace about the neck and sleeves. She was accom-
panied by a gentleman, and I then discovered for the first
time that it is usual in America to have, what they call, a
" conductor " of the seance. The conductor sits close to
the cabinet curtains, and, if any spirit is too weak to shew
itself outside, or to speak audibly, he conveys the message
it may wish to send to its friends ; and when I knew how
very few precautions the Americans take to prevent such
outrages as have occurred in England, and how many
more materializations take place in an evening there than
here, I saw the necessity of a conductor to protect the
medium, and to regulate the order of the seance.
Mrs. Williams' conductor opened the proceedings with
a very neat little speech. He said, " I see several strange
faces here this evening, and I am very pleased to see them,
and I hope they may derive both pleasure and profit from
our meeting. We have only one rule for the conduct of our
siances, that you shall behave like ladies and gentlemen.
You may not credit all you see, but remember this is our
religion, and the religion of many present, and as you
would behave yourselves reverently and decorously, if you
were in a church of another persuasion to your own, so I
beg of you to behave yourselves here. And if any spirits
should come for you whom you do not immediately recog-
nize, don't wound them by denying their identity. They
may have been longing for this moment to meet you again,
and doing their very utmost to assume once more the
likeness they wore on earth ; yet some fail. Don't make
their failure harder to bear by roughly repudiating all
knowledge of them. The strangers who are present to-
night may mistake the reason of this little table being
U
4IO THERE IS NO DEATH.
placed in front of the cabinet, and think it is intendeu to
keep tliem from too close an inspection of the spirits. No
such thing ! On the contrary, all will be invited in turn
to come up and recognize their friends. But we make it a
rule at these seances that no materialized spirix, who is
strong enough to come beyond that table, shall be per-
mitted to return to the cabinet. They must dematerialize
in sight of the sitters, that no possible suspicion may rest
upon the medium. These pencils and papers are placed
here in case any spirit who is unable to speak may be
impressed to write instead. And now i/e will begin the
evening with a song.
The accompanist then played " Foocsteps of Angels,"
the audience sung it with a will, and the curtains having
been drawn round Mrs. Williams, the shade was drawn
across the gaslight, and the seance began.
I don't think it could have been mure than a minute or
two before we heard a voice whispering, " Father," and
three girls, dressed in white clinging garments, appeared
at the opening in the curtains. An old man with white
hair left his seat and walked up to the cabinet, when they
all three came out at once and hung about his neck and
kissed him, and whispered to him. I almost forgot where
I was. They looked so perfectly human, so joyous and
girl-like, somewhere between seventeen and twenty, and
they all spoke at once, so like what girls on earth would
do, that it was most mystifying. The old man came back
to his seat, wiping his eyes. " Are those your daughters,
sir? " asked one of the sitters. " Yes ! my three girls," he
replied. " I lost them all before ten years old, but you
see I've got them back again here."
Several other forms appeared after this — one, a little
child of about three years old, who fluttered in and out of
the cabinet like a butterfly, and ran laughing away from
the sitters who tried to catch her. Some of the meetings
that took place for the first time were very affecting. One
young man of about seventeen or eighteen, who was called
up to see his mother's spirit, sobbed so bitterly, it broke
my heart to hear him. There was not the least doubt
if ^^ recognized her or no. He was so overcome, he hardly
raised his eyes for the rest of the evening. One lady
brought her spirit-son up to me, that I might see how per-
fectly he had materialized. She spoke of it as proudly as
THERE IS NO DEATH. 21 1
she might have done if he had passed some difficult exami-
nation. The young man was dressed in a suit of evening
clothes, and he shook hands with me at his mother's bid-
ding, with the firm grasp of a mortal. Naturally, I had
seen too much in England for all this to surprise me. Still
I had. never assisted at a j^fl!//^<f where everything appeared
to be so strangely human — so little mystical, except indeed
the rule of dematerializing before the sitters, which I had
only seen " Katie King " do before. But here, each form,
after having been warned by the conductor that its time
was up, sunk down right through the carpet as though it
were the most ordinary mode of egression. Some, and
more especially the men, did not advance beyond the cur-
tains ; then their friends were invited to go up and si)eak
to them, and several went inside the cabinet. There were
necessarily a good many forms, familiar to the rest, of whom
I knew nothing ; one was an old minister under whom they
had all sat, another a gentleman who had been a constant
attendant at Mrs. Williams' starices.
Once the conductor spoke to me. " I am not aware of
your name," he said (and I thought, " No ! my friend, and
you won't be aware of it just yet either ! "), " but a spirit
here wishes you would come up to the cabinet." I advanced,
expecting to see some friend, and there stood a Catholic
priest with his hand extended in blessing. I knelt down,
and he gave me the usual benediction and then closed the
curtains. " Did you know the spirit ? " the conducter asked
me. I shook my head ; and he continued, " He was Father
Hayes, a well-known priest in this city. I suppose you are
a Catholic ? " I told him " Yes," and went back to my seat.
The conductor addressed me again. " I think Father
Hayes must have come to pave the way for some of your
friends," he said. " Here is a spirit who says she has come
for a lady named ' Florence,' who has just crossed the sea.
Do you answer to the description ? " I was about to say
** Yes," when the curtains parted again and my daughter
** Florence " ran across the room and fell into my arms.
** Mother ! " she exclaimed, " I said I would come with you
and look after you — didn't I ? "
I looked at her. She was exactly the same in appear-
ance as when she had come to me in England — the same
luxuriant brown hair and features and figure, as I had seen
under the different mediumships of Florence Cook, Arthur
212 THERE IS NO DEATH.
Colman, Charles Williams and William Eglinton ; the same
form which in England had been declared to be half-a-
dozen different media dressed up to represent my daughter
stood before me there in New York, thousands of miles
across the sea, and by the power of a person who did not
even know who I was. If I had not been convinced before,
how could I have helped being convinced then ?
** Florence " appeared as delighted as I was, and kept
on kissing me and talking of what had happened to me on
board ship coming over, and was evidently quite au fait
of all my proceedings. Presently she said, " There's another
friend of yours here, mother ! We came over together. I'll
go and fetch him." She was going back to the cabinet
when the conductor stopped her. "You must not return
this way, please. Any other you like," and she immedi-
ately made a kind of court curtsey and went down through
the carpel. I was standing where *' Florence " had left
me, wondering what would happen next, when she came
up again a few feet off from me, head first, and smiling
as if she had discovered a new game. She was allowed to
enter the cabinet this time, but a moment afterwards she
popped her head out again, and said, " Here's your friend,
mother ! " and by her side was standing William Eglinton's
control, " Joey," clad in his white suit, with a white cap
drawn over his head. " ' Florence ' and I have come over
to make new lines for you here," he said : "at least, I've
come over to put her in the way of doing it, but I can't
stay long, you know, because I have to go back to
' Willy.' "
I really didn't care if he stayed long or not. I seemed
to have procured the last proof I needed of the truth of
the doctrine I had held so long, that there is no such thing
as Death, as we understand it in this world. Here were the
two spiritual beings (for believing in the identity of whom
I had called myself a credulous fool fifty times over, only
to believe in them more deeply still) m propria pei-soicem
New York, claiming me in a land of strangers, who had not
yet found out who I was. I was more deeply affected than
I had ever been under such circumstances before, and more
deeply thankful. " Florence " made great friends with our
American cousins even on her first appearance. Mrs.
Williams' conductor told me he thought he had never
heard anything more beautiful than the idea of the spirit-
THERE IS NO DEATH.
213
child crossing the ocean to guard its mother in a strange
country, and particularly, as he could feel by her influence,
what a pure and beautiful spirit she was. When I told
him she had left this world at ten days old, he said that
accounted for it, but he could see there was nothing earthly
about her.
I was delighted with this seance, and hoped to sit with
Mrs. Williams many times more, but fate decreed thai I
should leave New York sooner than I had anticipated.
The perfect freedom with which it was conducted charmed
me, and the spirits seemed so familiar with the sitters.
There was no "Sweet Spirit, hear my prayer," business
about it. No fear of being detained or handled among the
spirits, and no awe, only intense tenderness on the part of
their relations. It was to this cause I chiefly attributed
the large number of materializations I witnessed— y^t^r/y
having taken place that evening. They spoke far more dis-
tinctly and audibly too than those I had seen in England,
but I believe the dry atmosphere of the United States is
far more favorable to the process of materialization. I per-
ceived another difference. Although the female spirits
were mostly clad in white, they wore dresses and not
simply drapery, whilst the men were invariably attired in
the clothes (or semblances of the clothes) they would have
worn had they been still on earth. I left Mrs. Williams'
rooms, determined to see as much as I possibly could of
mediumship whilst I was in the United States.
214 THERE IS NO DEATH.
CHAPTER XXV.
II. Mrs. Eva Hatch,
I WAS so disappointed at being hurried off to Boston be-
fore I had seen any more of the New York media, that I
took the earliest opportunity of attending a seance there.
A few words I had heard dropped about Eva Hatch made
me resolve to visit her first. She was one of the Shaker
sect, and I heard her spoken of as a remarkably pure and
honest woman, and most reliable medium. Her first ap-
pearance quite gave me that impression. She had a fair,
placid countenance, full of sweetness and serenity, and a
plump matronly figure. I went incognita, as I had done
to Mrs. Williams, and mingled unnoticed with the crowd.
Mrs. Hatch's cabinet was quite different from Mrs. Wil-
liams'. It was built of planks like a little cottage, and the
roof was pierced with numerous round holes for ventila-
tion, like a pepper-box. There was a door in the centre,
with a window on either side, all three of which were
shaded by dark curtains. The windows, I was told, were
for the accommodation of those spirits who had not the
power to materialize more than a face, or head and bust.
Mrs. Hatch's conductor was a woman, who sat near the
cabinet, as in the other case.
Mrs. Eva Hatch had not entered the cabinet five minutes
before she came out again, under trance, with a very old
lady with silver hair clinging to her arm, and v/alked
round the circle. As they did so, the old lady extended
her withered hand, and blessed the sitters. She came
quite close to each one and was distinctly visible to all. I
was told that this was the spirit of Mrs. Hatch's mother,
and that it was her regular custom to come first and give
her blessing to the seance. I had never seen the spirit of
an aged person before, and it was a beautiful sight. She
was the sweetest old lady too, very small and fragile look-
ing, and half reclining on her daughter's bosom, but smil-
ing serenely upon every one there. When they had made
THERE IS NO DEATH. 215
the tour of the room, Mrs. Hatch re-entered the cabinet,
and did not leave il again until the sitting was concluded.
There were a great many sitters present, most of whom
were old patrons of Mrs. Hatch, and so, naturally, their
friends came for them first. It is surprising though, when
once familiarized with materialization, how little one grows
to care to see the spirits who come for one's next door
neighbor. They are like a lot of prisoners let out, one by
one, to see their friends and relations. The few moments
they have to spare are entirely devoted to home matters of
no possible interest to the bystander. The first wonder
and possible shock at seeing the supposed dead return in
their old likeness to greet those they left on earth over,
one listens with languid indifference, and perhaps a little
impatience for one's own turn to come, to the whispered
utterances of strangers. Mrs. Hatch's " cabinet spirits "
or " controls," however, were very interesting. One, who
called herself the " Spirit of Prayer," came and knelt down
in the middle of the circle, and prayed with us. She had
asked for the gas to be extinguished first, and as she
prayed she became illuminated with flashes of light, in the
shape of stars and crosses, until she was visible from head
to foot, and we could see her features and dress as if she
had been surrounded by electricity.
Two more cabinet spirits were a negro and negress, who
appeared together, chanting some of their native hymns
and melodies. When I saw these apparitions, I thought
to myself: "Here is a good opportunity to discover
trickery, if trickery there is." The pair were undoubtedly
of the negro race. There was no mistaking their thick
lips and noses and yellow-white eyes, nor their polished
brown skins, which no charcoal can properly imitate. They
were negroes without doubt ; but how about the negro
bouquet? Everyone who has mixed with colored people
in the East or the West knows what that is, though it is
very diflicult to describe, being something like warm
rancid oil mingled with the fumes of charcoal, with a little
worse thrown in. " Now," I thought, '* if these forms are
human, there will be some odor attached to them, and that
I am determined to find out." I caught, therefore, at the
dress of the young woman as she passed, and asked her if
she would kiss me. She left her companion directly, and
put her arms (which were bare) round my neck, and em-
2i6 THERE IS NO DEATH.
braced me several times ; and I can declare, on my oath,
that she was as completely free from anything like the
smell of a colored woman as it was possible for her to be.
She felt as fresh and sweet and pure as a little child.
Many other forms appeared and were recognized by the
circle, notably a very handsome one who called herself the
Empress Josephine ; but as they could not add a grain's
weight to my testimony I pass them over. I had begun to
think that " Florence " was not going to visit me that
evening, when the conductor of the seance asked if there
was anybody in the room who answered to the name of
"Bluebell." I must indulge in a little retrospect here, and
tell my readers that ten years previous to the time I am
writing of, I had lost my brother-in-law, Edward Church,
under very painful circumstances. He had been left an
orphan and in control of his fortune at a very early age,
and had lived with my husband, Colonel Ross-Church, and
myself. But poor " Ted " had been his own worst enemy.
He had possessed a most generous heart and affectionate
disposition, but these had led him into extravagances that
swallowed up his fortune, and then he had taken to drink-
ing and killed himself by it. I and my children had loved
him dearly, but all our prayers and entreaties had had no
avail, and in the end he had become so bad that the doc-
tors had insisted upon our separation. Poor "Ted " had
consequently died in exile, and this had been a further
aggravation of our grief. For ten years I had been trying
to procure communication with him in vain, and I liad
quite given up expecting to see him again. Only once had
I heard " Bluebell " (his pet name for me) gasped out by
an entranced clairvoyant, but nothing further had come of
it. Now, as I heard it for the second time, from a stran-
ger's lips in a foreign country, it naturally roused my
expectations, but I thought it might be only a message for
me from " Ted."
" Is there anyone here who recognizes the name of
' Bluebell ' ? " repeated the conductor. " I was once called
so by a friend," I said. " Someone is asking for that name.
You had better come up to the cabinet," she replied. I
rose at once and did as she told me, but when I reached
the curtain I encountered ^' Florence." " My darling child,"
I said, as I embraced her, " why did you ask for ' Blue-
bell ' ? " She did not answer me, except by shaking her
THERE IS NO DEATH. 217
head, placing her finger on her lips, and pointing down-
wards to the carpet. I did not know what to make of it.
I had never known her unable to articulate before. " What
is the matter, dear ? " I said ; " can't you speak to me to-
night?" Still sl>e shook her head, and tapped my arm
with her hand, to attract my attention to the fact that she
was pointing vigorously downwards. I looked down, too,
when, to my astonishment, I saw rise through the carpet
what looked to me like the bald head of a baby or an old
man, and a little figure, not tnore than three feet in height,
with Edward Church's features, but no hair on its head,
came gradually into view, and looked up in my face with a
pitiful, deprecating expression, as if he were afraid I should
strike him. The face, however, was so unmistakably
Ted's, though the figure was so ludicrously insignificant,
that I could not fail to recognize him. " Why, Ted ! " I
exclaimed, "have you come back to see me at last ? " and
held out my hand. The little figure seized it, tried to
convey it to his lips, burst into tears, and sank down
through the carpet much more rapidly than he had come
up.
I began to cry too. It was so pitiful. With her uncle's
disappearance " Florence " found her tongue. " Don't cry,
mother," she said ; " poor Uncle Ted is overcome at see-
ing you. That's why he couldn't materialize better. He
was in such a terrible hurry. He'll look more like himself
next time. I was trying so hard to help him, I didn't dare
to use up any of the power by speaking. He'll be so much
better, now he's seen you. You'll come here again, won't
you? " I told her I certainly would, if I could ; and, in-
deed, I was all anxiety to see my poor brother-in-law
again. To prove how difficult it would have been to de-
ceive me on this subject, I should like to say a little about
Edward Church's personal appearance. He was a very
remarkable looking man — indeed, I have never seen any-
one z bit like him before or after. He was very small ;
not short only, but small altogether, with tiny hands and
feet, and a little head. His hair and eyes were of the
deepest black — the former parted in the middle, with a
curl on either side, and was naturally waved. His com-
plexion was very dark, his features delicate, and he wore
a small pointed moustache. As a child he had suffered
from an attack of confluent small-pox. which had deepiy
ai8 THERE IS NO DEATH.
pitted his face, and almost eaten away the tip of his nose.
Such a man was not to be easily imitated, even if anyone
in Boston had ever heard of his inconsequential existence.
To me, though, he had been a dear friend and brother,
before the curse of Drink had seemed to change his nature,
and I had always been anxious to hear how he fared in
that strange country whither he had been forced to jour-
ney, like all of us, alone. I was very pleased then to find
that business would not interfere with my second visit to
Mrs. Eva Hatch, which took place two nights afterward.
On this occasion " Florence " was one of the first to
appear, and " Ted " came with her, rather weak and
trembling on his second introduction to this mundane
sphere, but no longer bald-headed nor under-sized. He
was his full height now, about five feet seven ; his head
was covered with his black crisp hair, parted just as he
used to wear it while on earth j in every particular he
resembled what he used to be, even down to his clothes.
I could have sworn I had seen that very suit of clothes ;
the little cut-away coat he always wore, with the natty tie
and collar, and a dark blue velvet smoking cap upon his
head, exactly like one I remembered being in his posses-
sion. " Florence " still seemed to be acting as his inter-
preter and guide. When I said to him, " Why ! Ted, you
look quite like your old self to-day," she answered, " He
can't talk to you, mamma, he is weak still, and he is so
thankful to meet you again. He wants me to tell you that
he has been trying to communicate with you often, but he
never could manage it in England. He will be so glad
when he can talk freely to you." Whilst she was speak-
ing, " Ted " kept on looking from her to me like a deaf
and dumb animal trying to understand what was going on
in a manner that was truly pitiful. I stooped down and
kissed his forehead. The touch seemed to break the spell
that hung over him. " Forgive,'' he uttered in a choked
voice. " There is nothing to forgive, dear," I replied,
" except as we all have need to forgive each other. You
know how we all loved you, Ted, and we loved you to the
last and grieved for you deeply. You remember the child-
ren, and how fond you were of them and they of you.
They often speak to this day of their poor Uncle Ted."
" Eva — Ethel," he gasped out, naming my two elder
children. At this juncture he seemed suddenly to fail,
THERE IS NO DEATH. 219
and became so weak that " Florence " took him back into
the cabinet again. No more spirits came for me that
evening, but towards the close of the seance " Florence "
and " Ted "' appeared again together and embraced me
fondly. " Florence " said, " He's so happy now, mother ;
he says he shall rest in peace now that he knows that you
have forgiven him. And he won't come without his hair
again," she added, laughing. " I hope he won't," I an-
swered, " for he frightened me." And then they both
kissed me " good-night," and retreated to the cabinet, and
I looked after them longingly and wished I could go there
too.
220 THERE IS NO DEATH.
CHAPTER XXVI.
III. The Misses Berry.
No one introduced me to the Misses Berry. I saw their
advertisement in the public papers and went incognita to
their seance, as I had done to those of others. The first
thing that struck me about them was the superior class of
patrons whom they drew. In the ladies' cloak room, where
they left their heavy wraps and umbrellas, the conversation
that took place made this sufficiently evident. Helen and
Gertrude Berry were ])relty, unaffected, lady-like girls ; and
their conductor, Mr. Abrow, one of the most courteous
gentlemen I have ever met. The sisters, both highly
mediumistic, never sat together, but on alternate nights, but
the one who did not sit always took a place in the audience,
in order to prevent suspicion attaching to her absence.
Gertrude Berry had been lately married to a Mr. Thompson,
and on account of her health gave up her seances, soon after
I made her aquaintance. She was a tall, finely-formed
young woman, with golden hair and a beautiful complexion.
Her sister Helen was smaller, paler and more slightly
built. She had been engaged to be married to a gentleman
who died shortly before the time fixed for their wedding,
and his spirit, whom she called " Charley," was the principal
control at her seatices, though he never showed himself. I
found the stance room, which was not very large, crammed
with chairs which had all been engaged beforehand, so Mr.
Abrow fetched one from downstairs and placed it next his
own for me, which was the very position I should have
chosen. I asked him afterwards how he dared admit a
stranger to such close proximity, and he replied that he was
a medium himself and knew who he could and who he
could not trust at a glance. As my professional duties
took me backwards and forwards to Boston, which was my
central starting-point, sometimes giving me only a day's
rest there, I was in the habit afterwards, when I found I
should have " a night off," of wiring to Mr. Abrow to keep
7 HERE IS NO DEATH. 221
me a seat, so difficult was it to secure one unless it were
bespoken. Altogether I sat five or six times with the
Berry sisters, and wished I could have sat fifty or sixty
times instead, for I never enjoyed any seances so much in
my life before. The cabinet was formed of an inner room
with a separate door, which had to undergo the process of
being sealed up by a committee of strangers every evening.
Strips of gummed paper were provided for them, on which
they wrote their names before affixing them across the inside
opening of the door. On the first night I inspected the
cabinet also as a matter of principle, and gummed my paper
with " Mrs. Richardson " written on it across the door. The
cabinet contained only a sofa for Miss Helen Berry to
recline upon. The floor was covered with a nailed-down
carpet. The door which led into the cabinet was shaded
by two dark curtains hung with rings upon a brass rod.
The door of the seatice room was situated at a right angle
with that of the cabinet, both opening upon a square land-
ing, and, to make " assurance doubly sure," the door of
ih& seance room was left open, so that the eyes of the sitters
at that end commanded a view, during the entire sitting,
of the outside of the locked and gummed-over cabinet door.
To make this fully understood, I append a diagram of the
two rooms —
Landing.
Cabinet.
1 1
Stance room.
By the position of these doors, it will be seen how im-
possible it would have been for anybody to leave or enter
the cabinet without being detected by the sitters, who had
their faces turned towards the seance room door. The first
322 THERE IS NO DEATH.
materialization that appeared that evening was a bride,
dressed in her bridal costume ; and a gentleman, who was
occupying a chair in the front row, and holding a white
flower in his hand, immediately rose, went up to her, em-
braced her, and whispered a few words, then gave her the
white flower, which she fastened in the bosom of her dress,
after which he bowed slightly to the company, and, instead
of resuming his seat, left the room. Mr. Abrow then said
to me, "If you like, madam, you can take that seat now,"
and as the scene had excited my curiosity I accepted his
offer, hoping to find some one to tell me the meaning of it.
I found myself next to a very sweet-looking lady, whom I
afterwards knew personally as Mrs. Seymour. "Can you
tell me why that gentleman left so suddenly ? " I asked her
in a whisper. " He seldom stays through a seance" she re-
plied ; "he is a business man, and has no time to spare,
but he is here every night. The lady you saw him speak to
is his wife. She died on her wedding day, eleven years ago,
and he has never failed to meet her on every opportunity
since. He brings her a white flower every time he comes.
She appears always first, in order that he may be able to
return to his work." This story struck me as very
interesting, and I always watched for this gentleman after-
wards, and never failed to see him waiting for his bride,
with the white flower in his hand. " Do you expect to see
any friends to-night?" I said to my new acquaintance.
" O ! yes ! " she replied. " I have come to see my daughter
* Bell.' She died some years ago, and I am bringing up the
two little children she left behind her. I never do anything
for them without consulting their mother. Just now I
have to change their nurse, and I have received several
excellent characters of others, and I have brought them
here this evening that 'Bell' may tell me which to write
for. I have the pattern for the children's winter frocks,
too," she continued, producing some squares of woolen
cloths, " and I always like to let ' Bell ' choose which she
likes best." This will give my readers some idea of how
much more the American spiritualists regard their departed
friends as still forming part of the home circle, and inter-
ested in their domestic affairs. " Bell " soon after made her
appearance, and Mrs. Seymour brought her up to me. She
was a young woman of about three or four and twenty,
and looked very happy and smiling. She perused the
THERE IS NO DEATH. 223
servants' characters as practically as her mother might have
done, but said she would have none of them, and Mrs.
Seymour was to wait till she received some more. The
right one had not come yet. She also looked at the
patterns, and indicated the one she liked best. Then,
as she was about to retire, she whispered to her mother,
and Mrs. Seymour said, to my surprise (for it must be
remembered I had not disclosed my name to her),
" Bell tells me she knows a daughter of yours in the spirit
life, called ' Florence.' Is that the case ? " I answered
I had a daughter of that name ; and Mrs. Seymour added
" ' Bell ' says she will be here this evening, that she is a very
pure and very elevated spirit, and they are great friends."
Very shortly after this, Mr. Abrow remarked, " There is a
young girl in the cabinet now, who says that if her
mother's name is ' Mrs. Richardson,' she must have married
for the third time since she saw her last, for she was * Mrs.
Lean' then." At this remark I laughed ; and Mr. Abrow
said, "Is she come for you, madam? Does the cap fit? "
I was obliged to acknowledge then that I had given a false
name in order to avoid recognition. But the mention of
my married name attracted no attention to me, and was
only a proof that it had not been given from any previous
knowledge of Mr. Abrow's concerning myself. I was
known in the United States as " Florence Marryat " only,
and to this day they believe me to be still " Mrs. Ross-
Church," that being the name under which my first novels
were written. So I recognized " Florence " at once in the
trick that had been played me, and had risen to approach
the curtain, when she came boufiding out and ran into my
arms. I don't think I had ever seen her look so charming
and girlish before. She looked like an embodiment of
sunshine. She was dressed in a low frock which seemed
manufactured of lace and muslin, her hair fell loose down
her back to her knees, and her hands were full of damask
roses. This was in December, when hot-house roses were
selling for a dollar a piece in Boston, and she held, perhaps,
twenty. Their scent was delicious, and she kept thrusting
them under my nose, saying, " Smell my roses, mother.
Don't you wish you had my garden? We ha.ve ^e/ds of
them in the Summer Land ! O ! how I wish you were
there." " Shan't I come soon, darling? "I said. "No!
not yet," replied " Florence." " You have a lot of work to
224 THERE IS NO DEATH.
do still. But when you come, it will be all flowers for you
and me." I asked her if she knew *' Bell," and she said,
"O ! yes ! We came together this evening." Then I asked
her to come and speak to " Bell's " mother, and her
manner changed at once. She became shy and timid, like
a young girl, unused to strangers, and quite hung on my
arm, as I took her up to Mrs. Seymour's side. When she
had spoken a i&\i words to her in a very low voice, she
turned to me and said, " I must go now, because we have a
great surprise for you this evening — a very great surprise."
I told her I liked great surprises, when they were pleasant
ones, and " Florence" laughed, and went away. I found
that her debut had created such a sensation amongst the
sitters — it being so unusual for a materialized spirit to
appear so strong and perfect on the first occasion of using
a medium — that I felt compelled to give them a little
explanation on the subject. And when I told them how
I had lost her as a tiny infant of ten days old — how she
had returned to me through various media in England,
and given such unmistakable proofs of her idejitity — and
how I, being a stranger in their country, and only landed
there a few weeks, had already met her through Mrs.
Williams, Mrs. Hatch and Miss Berry — they said it was
one of the most wonderful and perfect instances of
materiaUzation they had ever heard of. And when one
considers how perfect the chain is, from the time when
" Florence " first came back to me as a child, too weak to
speak, or even to understand where she was, to the years
through which she had grown and became strong almost
beneath my eyes, till she could ^^ bound'' (as I have
narrated) into my arms like a human being, and talk as
distinctly as (and far more sensible than) I did myself, I
think my readers will acknowledge also, that hers is no
common story, and that I have some reason to believe in
Spiritualism.
Miss Berry's cabinet spirits were quite different from
the common type. One was, or rather had been, a
dancing girl — not European, but rather more, I fancy, of
the Asiatic or Egyptian type. Anyway she used to come
out of the cabinet — a lithe lissom creature like a panther
or a snake — and execute such twists and bounds and
pirouettes, as would have made her fortune on the
stage. Indeed I used to think (being always on the look-
THERE IS NO DEATH. 225
out for chicanery) that no huvian creature who could
dance as she did would ever waste her talents, especially
in a smart country like America, on an audience of spirit-
ualists, whose only motive for meeting was to see their
friends, and who would not pay an extra cent to look at a
" cabinet spirit." Another one was an Indian whom they
called " The Brave." He was also a lithe, active creature,
without an ounce of superfluous flesh upon his body, but
plenty of muscle. He appeared to like the ladies of the
company very much, but evidently distrusted the men.
One stout, big man who was, I fancy, a bit of a sceptic,
wished to test the " Brave's" muscular power by feeling
his biceps, and was invited to step in front of the circle for
that purpose. He had no sooner approached him than
the Indian seized him up in his arms and threw him right
over his head. He did not hurt him, but as the gentleman
got up again, he said, " Well 1 I weigh 200 pounds, and I
didn't think any man in the room could have done that."
The ladies in the circle mostly wore flowers in their bosom
—bouquets, after the custom of American ladies — and they
began, one and all, to detach flowers from their bouquets
and give them to the " Brave," " to give to his squaw." He
nodded and gabbled some unintelligible Sioux or Cherokee
in reply, and went all round the circle on his knees. The
stout man had surmised that he was painted, and his long,
straight, black hair was a wig. When he came to me I said,
" Brave ! may I try if your hair is a wig ? " He nodded
and said, ** Pull — pull ! " which I did, and found that it
undoubtedly grew on his head. Then he took my finger
and drew it across his face several times to show he was
not painted. I had no flowers to present him with, so I
said, " Come here, Brave, and I'll give you something for
your squaw," and when he approached near enough I
kissed him. He chuckled, and his eyes sparkled with
mischief as he ran chatting in his native dialect behind the
curtains. In another minute he dashed out again, and
coming up to me ejaculated, " No — give — squaw ! " and
rushed back, Mr. Abrow laughed heartily at this incident,
and so did all the sitters, the former declaring I had
entirely captivated the " Brave." Presently the cabinet
curtains were shaken, and after a pause they parted slowly,
and the figure of an Indian squaw crept out. Anything
more malignant and vicious than her look I have seldom
15
i26 THERE IS NO DEATH.
seen, Mr. Abrow asked her who she wanted and what
she wanted, but she would not speak. She stood there
silent, but scowling at me from beneath the tangles of her
long black hair. At last Mr. Abrow said to her, " If you
don't want to speak to anyone in the circle you must go
away, as you are only preventing other spirits from
coming." The squaw backed behind the curtains again
rather sulkily, but the next time the " Brave " appeared she
came with him, and never did he come again in my
presence but what his "squaw" stood at the curtains
and watched his actions. Mrs. Abrow told me that the
"Brave" had been in the habit of manifesting at their
seatices for years, but that they had never seen the " squaw "
until that evening. Indeed, I don't think they were very
grateful to me for having by my rashness eliminated
this new feature in their evening's entertainment, for
the " squaw " proved to be a very earthly and undeveloped
spirit, and subsequently gave them some trouble, as they
could not drive her away when they wanted to do so.
Tovvards the close of the evening Mr. Abrow said, " There
is a spirit here now who is very anxious to show himself,
but it is the first time he has ever attempted to fully
materialize, and he is not at all certain of success. He
tells me there is a lady in the circle who has newly arrived
in America, and that this lady years ago sang a song by
his dying bed in India. If she will step up to the cabinet
now and sing that song again he will try and shew himself
to her."
Such of my readers as have perused "The story of John
Powles " will recognize at once who this was. I did, of
course, and I confess that as I rose to approach the cabinet
I trembled like an aspen leaf. I had tried so often, and
failed so often to see this dear old friend of mine, ihat to
think of meeting him now was like a veritable resurrection
from the dead. Think of it ! We had parted in i860,
and this was 1884 — twenty-four years afterwards. I had
been a girl when we said " Good-bye," and he went forth
on that journey which seemed then so mysterious an one to
me. I was a middle-aged woman now, who had passed
through so much from which he had been saved, that I felt
more like his mother than his friend. Of all my expe-
riences this was to me really the most solemn and interest-
ing. I hardly expected to see more than his face, but I
THERE IS NO DEATH. 227
walked up to the cabinet and commenced to sing in a very
shaky voice the first stanza of the old song he was so fond
of :—
" Thou art gone from my gaze like a beautiful dream,
And I seek thee in vain by the meadow and stream ;
Oft I breathe thy dear name to the winds passing by,
But thy sweet voice is mute to my bosom's lone sigh.
In the stillness of night when the stars mildly shine,
O ! then oft my heart holds communion with thine.
For I feel thou art near, and where'er I may be.
That the Spirit of Love keeps a watch over me."
I had scarcely reached the finishof these lines when both
the curtains of the cabinet were drawn apart so sharply that
the brass rings rattled on the rod, and John Powles stood
before me. Not a face, nor a half-formed figure, nor an
apparition that was afraid to pass into the light — \>\x\.John
Powles himself, stalwart and living, who stepped out
briskly and took me in his arms and kissed me four or five
times, as a long-parted brother might have done ; and
strange to say, I didn't feel the least surprised at it, but
clung to him like a sister. For John Powles had never
once kissed me during his lifetime. Although we had lived
for four years in the closest intimacy, often under the same
roof, we had never indulged in any familiarities. I think
men and women were not so lax in their manners then as
they are now ; at anyrate, the only time I had ever kissed
him was when he lay dead, and my husband had told me
to do so. And yet it seemed quite natural on meeting him
again to kiss him and cry over him. At last I ventured
to say, " O, Powles ! is this really you ? " " Look at me
and see for yourself," he answered. 1 looked up. It was
indeed himself He had possessed very blue eyes in earth
life, good features, a florid complexion, auburn hair, and
quite a golden beard and moustache. The eyes and hair
and features were just the same, only his complexion was
paler, and he wore no beard. " O ! " I exclaimed, "where
is your beard ? " "Don't you remember I cut it off just
before I left this world ? " he said ; and then I recalled
the fact that he had done so owing to a Government order
on the subject.
And bearing on this question I may mention what seems
a curious thing — that spirits almost invariably return to
228 THERE IS NO DEATH.
earth the first timey/^j/ as they lcftil^z.% though their
thoughts at the moment of parting clothed them on their
return. This, however, was not John Powles' first attempt
at materialization, although it was his first success, for it
may be remembered he tried to show himself through Miss
Showers, and then he had a beard. However, when I saw
him through Miss Berry, he had none, nor did he resume
it during my stay in America. When we had got over the
excitement of meeting, he began to speak to me of my
children, especially of the three who were born before his
death, and of whom he had been very fond. He spoke of
them all by name, and seemed quite interested in their
prospects and affairs. But when I began to speak of other
things he stopped me. " I know it all," he said, " I have
been with you in spirit through all your trials, and I can
never feel the slightest interest in, or affection for, those
who caused them. My poor friend, you have indeed had
your purgatory upon earth." " But tell me of yourself,
dear Powles ! Are you quite happy ? " I asked him. He
paused a moment and then replied, " Quite happy, waiting
for you." " Surely you are not suffering still ? " I said,
" after all these years ? " " My dear Florence," he answered,
" it takes more than a few years to expiate a life of sin.
But I am happier than I was, and every year the burden
is lighter, and coming back to you will help me so much."
As he was speaking to me the curtain opened again,
and there stood my brother-in-law, Edward Church, not
looking down-spirited and miserable, as he had done at
Mrs. Eva Hatch's, but bright and smiling, and dressed in
evening clothes, as also I perceived, when I had time to
think of it, was John Powles. I didn't know which to talk
to first, but kept turning from one to the other in a dazed
manner. John Powles was telling me that he was pre-
paring my house for me in the Summer Land, and would
come to take me over to it when I died, when "Ted"
interrupted him. " That ought to have been 7ny work, Blue-
bell," he said, " only Powles had anticipated me." " I wish
I could go back with you both at once, I am sick of this
world," I replied. "Ted" threw his arms round me and
strained me to his breast. " O ! it is so hard to part again.
How I wish I could carry you away in my arms to the
Summer Land ! I should have nothing left to wish for
then." " You don't want to come back then, Ted ? " I
THERE IS XO DEATH. 229
asked him. '' Want to come back,'' he said with a shudder ;
" not for anything ! Why, Bluebell, death is like an oper-
ation which you must inevitably undergo, but which you
fear because you know so little about it. Well, with me
the operation s over. I know the worst, and every day
makes the term of punishment shorter. I am thankful I
left the earth so soon." " You look just like your old self,
Ted," I said ; " the same little curls and scrubby little
moustache." "Pull them," he answered gaily. " Don't go
away, Bluebell, and say they were false and I was Miss
Berry dressed up. Feel my biceps," he continued, throw-
ing up his arm as men do, " and feel my heart," placing
my hand above it, " feel how it is beatiiig for my sister
Bluebell."
I said to John Powles, "I hardly know you in evening
costume. I never saw you in it before " (which was true,
as all our acquaintance had taken place in India, where
the officers are never allowed to appear in anything but
uniform, especially in the evenings). " I wish," I continued,
" that you would come next time in uniform." " I will try,"
he replied, and then their time was up for that occasion,
and they were obliged to go.
A comical thing occurred on my second visit to the
Berrys. Of course I was all eagerness to see my brother-
in-law and " Powles " again, and when I was called up to
the cabinet and saw a slim, dark, young man standing there,
I took him at once for " Ted," and, without looking at him,
was just about to kiss him, when he drew backwards and
said, " I am not * Edward 1' I am his friend ' Joseph,' to
whom he has given permission to make your acquaintance."
I then perceived that " Joseph " was very different from
" Ted," taller and better looking, with a Jewish cast of
countenance. I stammered and apologized, and felt as
awkward as if I had nearly kissed a mortal man by mis-
take. "Joseph " smiled as if it were of very little con-
sequence. He said he had never met " Ted " on earth,
but they were close friends in the spirit world, and " Ted "
had talked so much to him of me, that he had become very
anxious to see me, and speak to me. He was a very
elegant looking young man, but he did not seem to have
very much to say for himself, and he gave me the im-
pression that he had been a "masher " whilst here below,
and had not quite shaken off the reraerabrance in the spirit
world.
230 THERE IS NO DEATH.
There was one spirit who often made her appearance at
these sittings and greatly interested me. This was a
mother with her infant of a few weeks old. The lady was
sweet and gentle looking, but it was the baby that so im-
pressed me — a baby that never whined nor squalled, nor
turned red in the face, and yet was made of neither wax
nor wood, but was palpably living and breathing. I used
always to go up to the cabinet when this spirit came, and
ask her to let me feel the little baby. It was a tiny crea-
ture, with a waxen-looking face, and she always carried it
enveloped in a full net veil, yet when I touched its hand,
the little fingers tightened round mine in baby fashion, as
it tried to convey them to its mouth. I had seen several
spirit children materialized before, but never such a young
infant as this. The mother told me she had passed away
in child-birth, and the baby had gone with her. She had
been a friend of the Misses Berry, and came to them for
that reason.
On Christmas Eve I happened to be in Boston, and
disengaged, and as I found it was a custom of the American
Spiritualists to hold meetings on that anniversary for
the purpose of seeing their spirit friends, I engaged a
seat for the occasion, I arrived some time before the
seance commenced, and next to me was seated a gentleman,
rather roughly dressed, who was eyeing everything about
him with the greatest attention. Presently he turned to
me and said, rather sheepishly, " Do you believe in this
sort of thing ? " "I do," I replied, " and I have believed
in it for the last fifteen years." " Have you ever seen any-
body whom you recognized ? " he continued. " Plenty,"
I said. Then he edged a little nearer to me, and lowered his
voice. " Do you know," he commenced, "that I have ridden
on horseback forty miles through the snow to-day to be pre-
sent at this meeting, because my old mother sent me a
message that she would meet me here ! I don't believe in
it, you know. I've never been at a seance before, and I feel
as if I was making a great fool of myself now, but I couldn't
neglect my poor old mother's message, whatever came
of it." " Of course not," I answered, " and I hope your
trouble will be rewarded." I had not much faith in my
own words, though, because I had seen people dis-
appointed again and again over their first seance, from
either the spirits of their friends being too weak to material-
THERE IS NO DEATH. 231
ize, or from too many trying to draw power at once, and
so neutralizing the effect on all. My bridegroom friend
was all ready on that occasion with his white flowers in
his hand and I ventured to address him and tell him how
very beautiful I considered his wife's fidelity and his own.
He seemed pleased at my notice, and began to talk quite
freely about her. He told me she had returned to him
before her body was buried, and had been with him ever
since. " She is so really and truly my wife,'' he said, "as
I received her at the altar, that I could no more marry
again than I could if she were living in my house." When
the seance commenced she appeared first as usual, and her
husband brought her up to my side. " This is Miss Florence
Marryat, dear," he said (for by this time I had laid aside
my incognita with the Berrys). " You know her name,
don't you ? " " O ! yes," she answered, as she gave me her
hand, " I know you quite well. I used to read your books."
Her face was covered with her bridal veil, and her husband
turned it back that I might see her. She was a very pretty
girl of perhaps twenty — quite a gipsy, with large dark eyes
and dark curling hair, and a brown complexion. " She has
not altered one bit since the day we were married," said
her husband, looking fondly at her, " whilst I have grown
into an old man." She put up her hand and stroked his
cheek. " We shall be young together some day," she said.
Then he asked her if she was not going to kiss me, and
she held up her face to mine like a child, and he dropped
the veil over her again and led her away. The very next
spirit that appeared was my rough friend's mother, and his
astonishment and emotion at seeing her were very unmis-
takeable. When first he went up to the cabinet and saw
her his head drooped, and his shoulders shook with the
sobs he could not repress. After a while he became calmer,
and talked to her, and then I saw him also bringing her up
to me. " I must bring my mother to you," he said, " that
you may see she has really come back to me." I rose, and
the old lady shook hands with me. She must have been, at
the least, seventy years old, and was a most perfect spe-
cimen of old age. Her face was like wax, and her hair like
silver ; but every wrinkle was distinct, and her hands were
lined with blue veins. She had lost her teeth, and mumbled
somewhat in speaking, and her son said, "She is afraid
you will not understand what she says ; but she wants you
232 THERE IS NO DEATH.
to know that she will be quite happy if her return will
make nie believe in a futureexister.ee." "And will it?"
I asked. He looked at his mother. " I don't understand
it," he replied. "It seems too marvellous to be true ; but
how can I disbelieve it, when //^;-<? 5//^ is V And his words
were so much the echo of my own grounds for belief, that
I quite sympathized with them. "John Powles," and
" Ted," and " Florence," all came to see me that evening ;
and when I bid " Florence " " good-bye " she said, " Oh, it
isn't * good-bye ' yet, mother ! I'm coming again, before
you go." Presently something that was the very farthest
thing from my mind — that had, indeed, never entered it —
happened to me. I was told that a young lady wanted to
speak to me, and on going up to the cabinet I recognized
a girl whom I knew by sight, but had never spoken to — one
of a large family of children, living in the same terrace in
London as myself, and who had died of malignant scarlet
fever about a year before. " Mrs. Lean," she said, hurriedly,
noting my surprise, " don't you know me? I am May ."
" Yes, I do recognize you, my dear child," I replied ; " but
what makes you come to me ? " " Minnie and Katie are
so unhappy about me," she said. " They do not under-
stand. They think I have gone away. They do not know
what death is — that it is only like going into the next room,
and shutting the door." " And what can I do, May ? " I
asked her. "Tell them you have seen me, Mrs. Lean. Say
I am alive — more alive than they are ; that if they sit for
me, I will come to them and tell them so much they know
nothing of now." '' But where are your sisters ? " I said.
She looked puzzled. " I don't know. I can't say the place ;
but you will meet them soon, and you will tell them." " If
I meet them, I certainly will tell them," I said ; but I had
not the least idea at that moment where the other girls
might be. Four months later, however, when I was stay-
ing in London, Ontario, they burst unexpectedly into my
hotel room, having driven over (I forget how many miles)
to see me play. Naturally I kept my promise ; but though
they cried when " May " was alluded to, they evidently
could not believe my story of having seen her, and so, I
suppose, the poor little girl's wish remains ungratified. I
think the worst purgatory in the next world must be to find
how comfortably our friends get on without us in this. As
a rule, I did not fake much interest in the spirits that did
THERE IS NO DEATH. 233
not come for me ; but there was one who appeared several
times with the Berrys, and seemed quite like an old friend
to me. This was " John Brown," not her Majesty's " John
Brown," but the hero of the song —
" Hang John Brown on a sour apple tree.
But his soul goes touting around.
Glory I glory I Halleluia I
For his soul goes touting around."
When I used to hear this song sung with much shouting
and some profanity in England, I imagined (and I fancy
most people did) that it was a comic song in America. But
it was no such thing. It was a patriotic song, and the
motive is (however comically put) to give glory to God,
\.\\a.\., although they may hang " John Brown " on a sour
apple tree, his soul will yet "go touting around." So, rightly
or wrongly, it was explained to me. "John Brown" is a
patriotic hero in America, and when he appeared, the whole
room crowded round to see him. He was a short man,
with a singularly benevolent countenance, iron grey hair,
mutton-chop whiskers, and deep china blue eyes. A kind
of man, as he appeared to me, made for deeds of love
rather than heroism, but from all accounts he was both
kind and heroic. A gentleman present on Christmas eve
pushed forward eagerly to see the materialization, and
called out, " Aye ! that's him — that's my old friend — that's
'John Brown' — the best man that ever trod this earth."
Before this evening's seance was concluded Mr. Abrow said,
" There is a little lady in the cabinet at present who an-
nounces herself as a very high personage. She says she is
the ' Princess Gertrude.' " " What did you say, Mr.
Abrow ? " I exclaimed, unable to believe my own ears.
" * The Princess Gertie,' mother," said " Florence," popping
her head out of the curtains. " You've met her before in
England, you know." I went up to the cabinet, the cur-
tains divided, there stood my daughter " Florence " as
usual, but holding in front of her a little child of about
seven years old. I knelt down before this spirit of my own
creation. She was a fragile-looking little creature, very
fair and pale, with large grey eyes and brown hair lying
over her forehead. She looked like a lily with her little
white hands folded meekly in front of her. " Are you my
234 THERE IS NO DEATH.\
little Gertie, darling ? " I said. " I am the ' Princess
Gertie,' " she replied, " and ' Florence ' says you are my
mother." "And are you glad to see me, Gertie ? " I asked.
She looked up at her sister, who immediately prompted
her. "Say, 'yes, mother,' Gertie." "Yes! mother," re-
peated the little one, like a parrot, " Will you come to me,
darling ? " I said. " May I take you in my arms ? " " Not
this evening, mother," whispered ' Florence,' " you couldn't.
She is attached to me. We are tied together. You couldn't
separate us. Next time, perhaps, the ' Princess ' will be
stronger, and able to talk more. I will take her back
now." "But where is ' Yonnie ' ? " I asked, and '^ Flo-
rence " laughed. " Couldn't manage two of them at once,"
she said. " ' Yonnie ' shall come another day,'' and 1
returned to my seat, more mystified than usual.
I alluded to the " Princess Gertie " in my account of the
inediumship of Bessie Fitzgerald, and said that my allusion
would find its signification further on. At that time I had
hardly beheved it could be true that the infants who had
been born prematurely and never breathed in this world
should be living, sentient spirits to meet me in the next, and
half thought some grown spirit must be tricking me for its
own pleasure. But here, in this strange land, where my
blighted babies had never been mentioned or thought of,
to meet the " Princess Gertie " here, calling herself by her
own name, and brought by her sister " Florence," set the
matter beyond a doubt. It recalled to my mind how once,
long before, when " Aimee " (Mr. Arthur Colman's guide),
on being questioned as to her occupation in the spirit
spheres, had said she was " a little nurse maid," and that
" Florence " was one too, my daughter had added, " Yes !
I'm mamma's nurse maid. I have enough to do to look
after her babies. She just looked at me, and ' tossed ' me
back into the spirit world, and she's been ' tossing ' babies
after me ever since."
I had struck up a pleasant acquaintanceship with Mrs.
Seymour, " Bell's " mother, by that time, and when I
went back to my seat and told her what had occurred,
she said to me, " I wish you would share the expenses
of a private seance with me here. We can have one
all to ourselves for ten dollars ( two pounds ), and it
would be so charming to have an afternoon quite alone
with our children and friends," I agreed readily, and we
THERE IS NO DEATH. 135
made arrangements with Mr. Abrow before we left that
evening, to have a private sitting on the afternoon follow-
ing Christmas Day, when no one was to be admitted
except our two selves. When we met there the seance
room was lighted with gas as for the evening, but we pre-
ferred to close the door. Helen Berry was the medium,
and Mr. Abrow only sat with us. The rows of chairs looked
very empty without any sitters, but we established our-
selves on those which faced the cabinet in the front row.
The first thing which happened was the advent of the
" Squaw," looking as malignant and vicious as ever, who
crept in in her dirty blanket, with her black hair hanging
over her face, and deliberately took a seat at the further
end of the room. Mr. Abrow was unmistakably annoyed
at the occurrence. He particularly disliked the influence
of this spirit, which he considered had a bad effect on ihe
seance. He first asked her why she had come, and told
her her " Brave " was not coming, and to go back to
him. Then he tried severity, and ordered her to leave the
seance, but it was all in vain. She kept her seat with per-
sistent obstinacy, and showed no signs of " budging." I
thought I would try what kindness would do for her, and ap-
proached her with that intention, but she looked so fierce
and threatening, that Mr. Abrow begged me not to go near
her, for fear she should do me some harm. So I left her
alone, and she kept her seat through the whole of the
seance^ evidently with an eye upon me, and distrusting my
behavior when removed from the criticism of the public.
Her presence, however, seemed to make no difference to
our spirit friends. They trooped out of the cabinet one
after another, until we had Mrs. Seymour's brother and her
daughter "Bell," v/ho brought little "Jimmie" (a little
son who had gone home before herself) with her, and
" Florence," " Ted," and " John Powles," all so happy and
strong and talkative, that I told Mrs. Seymour we only
wanted a tea-table to think we were holding an " At Home."
Last, but not least (at all events in her own estimation)
came the " Princess Gertie." Mr. Abrow tried to make
friends with her, but she repulsed his advances vehemently.
" I don't like you, Mr. Mans," she kept on saying, " you's
nasty. I don't like any mans. They's all nasty." When
I told her she was very rude, and Mr. Abrow was a very
kind gentleman and loved little children, she still persisted
236 THERE IS NO DEATH.
she wouldn't speak *' to no mans." She came quite alone
on this occasion, and I took her in my arms and carried
her across to Mrs. Seymour. She was a feather weight. I
felt as if I had nothing in my arms. I said to Mrs. Sey-
mour, " Please tell me what this child is like. I am so
afraid of my senses deceiving me that I cannot trust my-
self." Mrs. Seymour looked at her and answered, " She
has a broad forehead, with dark brown hair cut across it,
and falling straight to her shoulders on eitlier side. Her
eyes are a greyish blue, large and heavy lidded, her nose
is short, and her mouth decided for such a child."
This testimony, given by a stranger, of the apparition
of a child that had never lived, was an exact description
(of course in embryo) of her father, Colonel Lean, who
had never set foot in America. Perhaps this is as good a
proof of identity as I have given yet. Our private seance
lasted for two hours, and although the different spirits kept
on entering the cabinet at intervals to gain more power,
they were all with us on and off during the entire time.
The last pleasant thing I saw was my dear " Florence " mak-
ing the " Princess " kiss her hand in farewell to me, and the
only unpleasant one, the sight of the sulky " Squaw "
creeping in after them with the evident conviction that her
afternoon had been wasted.
THERE IS NO DEATH. 237
CHAPTER XXVII.
IV. The Doctor,
I WONDER if it has struck any of my readers as strange
that, during all these manifestations in England and Amer-
ica, I had never seen the form, nor heard the voice, of my
late father. Captain Marryat. Surely if these various
media lived by trickery and falsehood, and wished suc-
cessfully to deceive me, some of them would have thought
of trying to represent a man so well known, and whose
appearance was so familiar. Other celebrated men and
women have come back and been recognized from their
portraits only, but, though I have sat at numbers of seafices
givQxxfor vie alone, and at which I have been the principal
person, my father has never reappeared at any. Especially,
if these manifestations are all fraud, might this have been
expected in America. Captain Marryat's name is still " a
household word " amongst the Americans^ and his works
largely read and appreciated, and wherever I appeared
amongst them I was cordially welcomed on that account.
When once I had acknowledged my identity and my views
on Spiritualism, every medium in Boston and New York had
ample time to get up an imitation of my father for my benefit
had they desired to do so. But never has he appeared to me ;
never have I been told that he was present. Twice only
in the whole course of my experience have I received the
slightest sign from him, and on those occasions he sent me
a message — once through Mr, Fletcher (as I have related),
and once through his grandson and my son, Frank Marryat.
That time he told me he should never appear to me and I
need never expect him. But since the American media
knew nothing of this strictly private communication, and
I had seen, before I parted with them, seventeen of my
friends and relations, none of whom (except " Florence,"
" Powles," and " Emily,") I had ever seen in England, it
is at the least strange, considering his popularity (and
granted their chicanery) that Captain Marryat was not
aniongst them.
238 THERE IS NO DEATH.
As soon as I became known at the Berry's seances
several people introduced themselves to me, and amongst
others Mrs, Isabella Beecher Hooker, the sister of
Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe and Henry Ward Beecher.
She was delighted to find me so interested in Spirilualism,
and anxious I should sit with a friend of her's, a great
medium whose name became so rubbed out in my pencil
notes, that I am not sure if it was Doctor Carter, or Car-
teret, and therefore I shall speak of him here as simply
*' the doctor." The doctor was bound to start for Wash-
ington the following afternoon, so Mrs. Hooker asked me
to breakfast with her the next morning, by which time she
would have found out if he could spare us an hour before
he set out on his journey. When I arrived at her house I
heard that he had very obligingly offered to give me a
complimentary seance at eleven o'clock, so, as soon as we
had finished breakfast, we set out for his abode. I found
the doctor was quite a young man, and professed himself
perfectly ignorant on the subject of Spiritualism. He said
to me, " I don't know and I don't profess to know ^vhat or
who it is that appears to my sitters whilst I am asleep. I
know nothing of what goes on, except from hearsay. I
don't know whether the forms that appear are spirits, or
transformations, or materializations. You must judge of
that for yourself. There is one peculiarity in my seances.
They take place in utter darkness. When the apparitions
(or whatever you choose to call them) appear, they must
bring their own lights or you won't see them, I have no
conductor to my seances. If whatever comes can't
announce itself it must remain unknown. But I think you
will find that, as a rule, they can shift for themselves. This
is my siance room."
As he spoke he led us into an unfurnished bedroom, I
say bedroom, because it was provided with the dressing
closet fitted with pegs, usual to all bedrooms in America.
This closet the doctor used as his cabinet. The doot' was
left open, and there was no curtain hung before it. The
darkness he sat in rendered that unnecessary. The bed-
room was darkened by two frames, covered with black
American cloth, which fitted into the windows. The doc-
tor, having locked the bedroom door, delivered the key to
me. He then requested us to go and sit for a few minutes
in the cabinet to throw our influence about it. As we did
THERE IS NO DEATH. 239
SO we naturally examined it. It was only a large cupboard.
It had no window and no door, except that which led into
the room, and no furniture except a cane-bottomed chair.
When we returned to the seance room, the doctor saw us
comfortably established on two armchairs before he put
up the black frames to exclude the light. The room was
then pitch dark, and the doctor had to grope his way to
his cabinet. Mrs. Hooker and I sat for some minutes in
silent expectation. Then- we heard the voice of a negress,
singing " darkey " songs, and my friend told me it was
that of " Rosa," the doctor's control. Presently " Rosa"
was heard to be expostulating with, or encouraging some
one, and faint lights, like sparks from a fire, could be
seen flitting about the open door of the cabinet. Then
the lights seemed to congregate together, and cluster
about a tall form, draped in some misty material, standing
just outside the cabinet. " Can't you tell us who you
are?" asked Mrs. Hooker, "You must tell your name,
you know," interposed " Rosa," whereupon a low voice
said, " I am Janet E, Powles."
Now this was an extraordinary coincidence. I had seen
Mrs. Powles, the mother of my friend " John Powles,"
only once — when she travelled from Liverpool to London
to meet me on my return from India, and hear all the par-
ticulars of her son's death. But she had continued to
correspond with me, and show me kindness till the day of
her own death, and as she had a daughter of the same
name, she always signed herself "Janet E. Powles." Even
had I expected to see the old lady, and published the fact
in the Boston papers, that initial E would have settled the
question of her identity in my mind.
"Mrs. Powles," I exclaimed, "how good of you to
come and see me." '^ Johnny has helped me to come,"
she replied. " He is so happy at having met you again.
He has been longing for it for so many years, and I have
come to thank you for making him happy." (Here was
another coincidence. " John Powles " was never called
anything but " Powles " by my husband and myself. But
his mother had retained the childish name of "Johnny,"
and I could remember how it used to vex him when she
used it in her letters to him. He would say to me,
" If she would only call me ' John ' or * Jack,' or any-
thing but 'Johnny.'") I replied, " I may not leave my
240 THERE IS NO DEATH.
seat to go to you. Will you not come to me ? '* For the
doctor had requested us not to leave our seats, but to in-
sist on the spirits approaching us. " Mrs. Powles " said,
"I cannot come out further into the room to-day. I am
too weak. But you shall see me." The lights then ap-
peared to travel about her face and dress till they became
stationary, and she was completely revealed to view under
the semblance of her earthly likeness. She smiled and
said, " We were all at the Opera House on Thursday
night, and rejoiced at your success. ' Johnny ' was so
proud of you. Many of your friends were there beside
ourselves."
I then saw that, unlike the spirits at Miss Berry's, the
form of "Mrs. Powles" was draped in a kind of filmy
white, over a dark dress. All the spirits that appeared
with the doctor were so clothed, and I wondered if the
filmy substance had anything to do with the lights, which
looked like electricity. An incident which occurred
further on seemed to confirm my idea. When " Mrs.
Powles " had gone, which we guessed by the extinguishing
of the lights, the handsome face and form of " Harry
Montagu " appeared. I had known him well in England,
before he took his fatal journey to America, and could
never be mistaken in his sweet smile and fascinating
manner. He did not come further than the door, either,
but he was standing within twelve or fourteen feet of us
for all that. He only said, " Good-luck to you. We can't
lose an interest in the old profession, you know, any more
than in the old people." " I wish you'd come and help
me, Harry," I answered. " Oh, I do ! " he said, brightly ;
"several of us do. We are all links of the same chain.
Half the inspiration in the world comes from those who
have gone before. But I must go ! Pm getting crowded
out. Here's Ada waiting to see you. Good-bye ! " And
as his light went out, the sweet face of Adelaide Neilson
appeared in his stead. She said, " You wept when you
heard of my death; and yet you never knew me. How
was that? " " Did I weep ? " I answered, half forgetting ;
"if so, it must have been because I thought it so sad that
a woman so young, and beautiful, and gifted as you were,
should leave the world so soon.'' " Oh no ! not sad," she
answered, brightly ; " glorious ! glorious ! I would not be
back again for worlds." " Have you ever seen your
THERE IS NO DEATH. 44!
grave ? " I asked her. She shook her head. " What are
graves to us ? Only cupboards, where you keep our cast-
off clothes." " You don't ask me what the world says
about you, now," I said to her. "And I don't care," she
answered. *' Don't you forget me ! Good-bye ! "
She was succeeded by a spirit who called herself
" Charlotte Cushman," and who spoke to me kindly about
my professional life. Mrs, Hooker told me that, to the
best of her knowledge, none of these three spirits had ever
appeared under the doctor's mediumship before. But now
came out " Florence," dancing into the room — literally
dancing, holding out in both hands the skirt of a dress,
which looked as if it were made of the finest muslin or
lace, and up and down which fireflys were darting with
marvellous rapidity. She looked as if clothed in electricity,
and infinitely well pleased with herself " Look ! " she
exclaimed; " look at my dress ! isn't it lovely? Look at
the fire ! The more I shake it, the more fire comes ! Oh,
mother ! if you could only have a dress like this for the
stage, what a sensation you would make ! " And she
shook her skirts about, till the fire seemed to set a light to
every part of her drapery, and she looked as if she were in
flames. I observed, " I never knew you to take so much
interest in your dress before, darling." " Oh, it isn't the
dress," she replied; "it's i\\tfire T' And she really ap-
peared as charmed with the novel experience as a child
with a new toy.
As she left us, a dark. figure advanced into the room,
and ejaculated, " Ma ! ma 1 " I recognized at once the
peculiar intonation and mode of address of my stepson,
Francis Lean, with whom, since he had announced his
own death to me, I had had no communication, except
through trance mediumship. " Is that you, my poor boy,"
I said, " come closer to me. You are not afraid of me,
are you ? " *' O, no ! Ma 1 of course not, only I was at
the Opera House, you know, with the others, and that
piece you recited, Ma — you know the one — it's all true,
Ma — and I don't want you to go back to England. Stay
here. Ma — stay here ! " I knew perfectly well to what the
lad alluded, but I would not enter upon it before a stranger.
So I only said, " You forget my children, Francis — what
would they say if I never went home again." This seemed
to puzzle him, but after a while he answered, " Then go to
16
2^i THERE IS NO DEATH.
them, Ma ; go to them." All this time he had been tallt^
ing in the dark, and I only knew him by the sound of his
voice. I said, " Are you not going to show yourself to me,
Francis. It is such a long time since we met." " Never
since, you saw me at the docks. That was vie. Ma, and at
Brighton, too, only you didn't half believe it till you heard
I was gone." " Tell me the truth of the accident, Francis,"
I asked him. "Was there foul play?" "No," he re-
plied, " but we got quarrelling about her you know, and
fighting, and that's how the boat upset. It was ttiy fault,
Ma, as much as anybody else's."
" How was it your body was never found ? " " It got
dragged down in an undercurrent, Ma. It was out at Cape
Horn before they offered a reward for it." Then he be-
gan to light up, and as soon as the figure was illuminated
I saw that the boy was dressed in "jumpers" and "jer-
sey " of dark woollen material, such as they wear in the
merchant service in hot climates, but over it all — his head
and shoulders included — was wound a quantity of flimsy
white material I have before mentioned. "I can't bear
this stuff. It makes me look like a girl," said " Francis,"
and with his hands he tore it off. Simultaneously the
illumination ceased, and he was gone. I called him by
name several times, but no sound came out of the dark-
ness. It seemed as though the veiling which he disliked
preserved his materialization, and that, with its protection
removed, he had dissolved again.
When another dark figure came out of the cabinet, and
approaching me, knelt at my feet, I supposed it to be
" P'rancis " come back again, and laying my hand on the
bent head, I asked, " Is this you again, dear ? " A strange
voice answered, with the words, " Forgive ! forgive ! "
" Forgive / " I repeated, " What have I to forgive ? " " The
attempt to murder your husband in 1856. Arthur Yelver-
ton Brooking has forgiven. He is here with me now. Will
you forgive too ? " " Certainly," I replied, " I have for-
given long ago. You expiated your sin upon the gallows.
You could do no more."
The figure sprung into a standing position, and lit up
from head to foot, when I saw the two men standing
together, Arthur Yelverton Brooking and the Madras sepoy
who had murdered him. I never saw anything more bril-
liant than the appearance of the sepoy. He was dressed
THERE IS NO DEATH. 243
completely in white, in the native costume, with a white
" puggree " or turban on his head. But his " puggree " was
flashing with jewels — strings of them were hung round his
neck — and his sash held a magnificent jewelled dagger.
You must please to remember that I was not alone, but
that this sight was beheld by Mrs. Hooker as well as
myself (to whom it was as unexpected as to her), and that
I know she would testify to it to-day. And now to explain
the reason of these unlooked-for apparitions.
In 1856 my husband, then Lieutenant Ross-Church, was
Adjutant of the 12th Madras Native Infantry, and Arthur
Yelverton Brooking, who had for some time done duty
with the 12th, was adjutant of another native corps, both
of which were stationed at Madras. Lieutenant Church
was not a favorite with his men, by whom he was consid-
ered a martinet, and one day when there had been a review
on the island at Madras, and the two adjutants were riding
home together, a sepoy of the 12th fired at Lieutenant
Church's back with the intent to kill him, but unfortunately
the bullet struck Lieutenant Brooking instead, who, after
lingering for twelve hours, died, leaving a young wife and
a baby behind him. For this offeiTce the sepoy was tried
and hung, and on his trial the whole truth of course came
out. This then was the reason that the spirits of the mur-
dered and the murderer came like friends, because the
injury had never been really intended for Brooking.
When I said that I had forgiven, the sepoy became (as
I have told) a blaze of light, and then knelt again and
kissed the hem of my dress. As he knelt there he became
covered, or heaped over, with a mass of the same filmy
drapery as enveloped "Francis," and when he rose again
he was standing in a cloud. He gathered an end of it,
and laying it on my head he wound me and himself round
and round with it, until we were bound up in a kind of
cocoon. Mrs. Hooker, who watched the whole proceeding,
told me afterwards that she had never seen anything like it
before — that she could distinctly see the dark face and the
white face close together all the time beneath the drapery,
and that I was as brightly illuminated as the spirit. Of
this I was not aware myself, but his brightness almost
dazzled me.
Let me observe also that I have been in the East Indies,
and within a few yards' length of sepoys, and that I am
244 THERE IS NO DEATH,
sure I could never have been wrapt in the same cloth with
a mortal one without having been made painfully aware of
it in more ways than one. The spirit did not unwind me
again, although the winding process had taken him some
time. He whisked off the wrapping with one pull, and
1 stood alone once more. I asked him by what name I
should call him, and he said, "The Spirit of Light." He
then expressed a wish to magnetize something I wore, so
as to be the better able to approach me. I gave him a
brooch containing " John Powles' " hair, which his mother
had given me after his death, and he carried it back into
the cabinet with him. It was a valuable brooch of onyx
and pearls, and I was hoping my eastern friend would not
carry it too far, when I found it had been replaced and fas-
tened at my throat without my being aware of the circum-
stance. " Arthur Yelverton Brooking " had disappeared
before this, and neither of them came back again. These
were not all the spirits that came under the doctor's
mediumship during that seance, but only those whom I had
known and recognized. Several of Mrs. Hooker's friends
appeared and some of the doctor's controls, but as I have
said before, they could fiot help my narrative, and so I omit
to describe them. The seafice lasted altogether two hours,
and I was very grateful to the doctor for giving me the oppor-
tunity to study an entirely new phase of the science to me.
THERE IS NO DEATH, 245
CHAPTER XXVIII.
V. Mrs. Fay.
There was a young woman called " Annie Eva Fay," who
came over from America to London some years ago, and
appeared at the Hanover Square Rooms, in an exhibition
after the manner of the Davenport Brothers and Messrs.
Maskelyne and Cook. She must not be confounded with
the Mrs. Fay who forms the subject of this chapter,
because they had nothing to do with one another. Some
one in Boston advised me not to go and sit at one of this
Mrs. Fay's public seances. They were described to me as
being too physical and unrefined ; that the influences were
of a low order, and the audiences matched them. How-
ever, when I am studying a matter, I like to see everything
I can and hear everything I can concerning it, and to form
my own opinion independent of that of anybody else. So
I walked off by myself one night to Mrs. Fay's address,
and sat down in a quiet corner, watching everything that
occurred. The circle certainly numbered some members
of a humble class, but I conclude we should see that
everywhere if the fees were lower. Media, like other pro-
fessional people, fix their charges according to the quarter
of the city in which they live. But every member was
silent and respectful, and evidently a believer.
One young man, in deep mourning, with a little girl also
in black, of about five or six years old, attracted my atten-
tion at once, from his sorrowful and abstracted manner.
He had evidently come there, I thought, in the hope of
seeing some one whom he had lost. Mrs. Fay (as she
I^assed through the room to her cabinet) appeared a very
quiet, simple-looking little woman to me, without any loud-
ness or vulgarity about her. Her cabinet was composed
of two curtains only, made of some white material, and
hung on uprights at one angle, in a corner of the room,
the most transparent contrivance possible. Anything like
a bustle or confusion inside it, such as would be occasioned
246 THERE IS NO DEATH.
by dressing or " making up," would have been apparent at
once to the audience outside, who were sitting by the light
of an ordinary gas-burner and globe. Yet Mrs. Fay had
not been seated there above a few minutes, when there
ran out into the seaJice room two of the most extraordi-
nary materializations I had ever seen, and both of them
about as opposite to Mrs. Fay in appearance as any creatures
could be.
One was an Irish charwoman or apple-woman (she
might have been either) with a brown, wrinkled face, a
broken nose, tangled grey hair, a crushed bonnet, general
dirt and disorder, and a tongue that could talk broad Irisli,
and call " a spade a spade " at one and the same time.
" Biddy," as she was named, was accompanied by a street
newspaper boy — one of those urchins who run after car-
riages and turn Catherine-wheels in the mud, and who
talked "gutter-slang" in a style that was utterly unintelli-
gible to the decent portion of the sitters. These two went
on in a manner that was undoubtedly funny, but not at all
edifying and calculated to drive any enquirer into Spirit-
ualism out of the room, under the impression that they
were evil spirits bent on our destruction. That either of
them was represented by Mrs. Fay was out of the question.
In the first place, she would, in that instance, have been
so clever an actress and mimic, that she would have made
her fortune on the stage — added to which the boy ''■ Teddy "
was much too small for her, and "Biddy" was much too
large. Besides, no actress, however experienced, could
have " made up " in the time. I was quite satisfied, there-
fore, that neither of them was the medium, even if I could
not have seen her figure the while, through the thin
curtains, sitting in her chair. Why such low, physical
manifestations are permitted I am unable to say. It was
no wonder they had shocked the sensibility of my friend.
I felt half inclined myself when they appeared to get up
and run away. However, I was very glad afterwards that
I did not. They disappeared after a while, and were suc-
ceeded by a much pleasanter person, a cabinet spirit called
" Gipsy," who looked as if she might have belonged to
one of the gipsy tribes when on earth, she was so brown and
arch and lively. Presently the young man in black was
called up, and I saw him talking to a female spirit very
earnestly, After a while he took her hand and led her
THERE IS NO DEATH. 24J
outside the curtain, and called the little girl whom he had
left on his seat by her name. The child looked up, screamed
" Mamma ! mamma ! " and flew into the arms of the spirit,
who knelt down and kissed her, and we could hear the
child sobbing and saying, " Oh ! mamma, why did you go
away? — why did you go away? " It was a very affecting
scene — at least it seemed so to me. The instant recogni-
tion by the little girl, and her perfect unconsciousness but
that her mother had returned in propria persona, would
have been more convincing proof of the genuineness of
Spiritualism to a sceptic, than fifty miracles of greater im-
portance. When the spirit mother had to leave again the
child's agony at parting was very apparent. "Take me
with you," she kept on saying, and her father had actually
to carry her back to her seat. When they got there they
both wept in unison. Afterwards he said to me in an
apologetic sort of way — he was sitting next to me — " It is
the first time, you see, that Mary has seen her poor mother,
but I wanted to have her testimony to her identity, and I
think she gave it pretty plainly, poor child ! She'll never
be content to let me come alone now." I said, " I think it
is a pity you brought her so young," and so I did.
" Florence " did not appear (she told me afterwards the
atmosphere was so " rough " that she could not), and I
began to think that no one would come for me, when a
common seaman, dressed in ordinary sailor's clothes, ran
out of the cabinet and began dancing a hornpipe in front
of me. He danced it capitally too, and with any amount
of vigorous snapping his fingers to mark the time, and when
he had finished he *' made a leg," as sailors call it, and stood
before me. " Have you come for me, my friend ? " I
enquired. " Not exactly," he answered, " but I came
with the Cap'en. I came to pave the way for him. The
Cap'en will be here directly. We was in the Avenger
together." (Now all the v/orld knows that my eldest
brother, Frederick Marryat, was drowned in the wreck of
the Avenger in 1847 > ^^^ ^^ -^ ^^'^^ ^ little child at the time,
and had no remembrance of him, I had never dreamt of
seeing him again. He was a first lieutenant when he died,
so I do not know why the seaman gave him brevet rank,
but I repeat his words as he said them.) After a minute
or two I was called up to the cabinet, and saw my brother
Frederick (whom I recognized from his likeness) standing
348 THERE IS NO DEATH.
there dressed in naval uniform, but looking very stiff and
unnatural. He smiled when he saw me, but did not
attempt to kiss me. I said, " Why ! Fred! is it really you?
I thought you would have forgotten all about me." He
replied, " Forgotten little Flo ? Why should I ? Do you
think I have never seen you since that time, nor heard
anything about you? I know everything — everything!"
" You must know, then, that I have not spent a very happy
life," I said. " Never mind," he answered, "you needed
it. It has done you good ! " But all he said was without
any life in it, as if he spoke mechanically — perhaps because
it was the first time he had materialized.
I had said " Good-bye " to him, and dropped the cur-
tain, when I heard my name called twice, " Flo! Flo!"
and turned to receive my sister " Emily " in my arms. She
looked like herself exactly, but she had only time to kiss
me and gasp out, " So glad, so happy to meet again," when
she appeared to faint. Her eyes closed, her head fell back
on my shoulder, and before I had time to realize what was
going to happen, she had passed through the arm that sup-
ported her, and sunk down through the floor. The sensa-
tion of her weight was still making my arm tingle, but
" Emily " was gone — clean gone. I was very much disap-
pointed. I had longed to see this sister again, and speak
to her confidentially ; but whether it was something antago-
nistic in the influence of this seance room (" Florence "
said afterwards that it was), or there was some other cause
for it, I know not, but most certainly my friends did not
seem to flourish there.
I had another horrible disappointment before I left.
A voice from inside the cabinet called out, " Here are two
babies who want the lady sitting under the picture." Now,
there was only one picture hanging in the room, and I was
sitting under it. I looked eagerly towards the cabinet, and
saw issue from it the " Princess Gertie " leading a little
toddler with a flaxen poll and bare feet, and no clothing
but a kind of white chemise. This was " Joan," the
" Yonnie " I had so often asked to see, and I rose in the
greatest expectation to receive the little pait. Just as they
gained the centre of the room, however, taking very short
and careful steps, like babies first set on their feet, the
cabinet spirit '■^ (^x'^^y" bounced out of the curtains, and
saying decidedly, " Here ! we don't want any children
THERE IS NO DEATH. 249
about," she placed her hand on the heads of my little ones,
zxiA pressed them down through the floor. They seemed
to crumble to pieces before my eyes, and their place knew
them no more. I couldn't help feeling angry. I exclaimed,
" O ! what did you do that for? Those were my babies,
and I have been longing to see them so." " I can't help
it," replied " Gipsy," " but this isn't a seance for children."
I was so vexed that I took no more interest in the proceed-
ings. A great number of forms appeared, thirty or forty
in all, but by the time I returned to my hotel and began
to jot down my notes, I could hardly remember what they
were. I had been dreaming all the time of how much I
should have liked to hold that little flaxen-haired " Yonnie "
iu my arms..
2SO THERE IS NO DEATH.
CHAPTER XXIX.
VI. Virginia Roberts.
When I returned to New York, it was under exceptional
circumstances. I had taken cold whilst travelling in the
Western States, had had a severe attack of bronchitis and
pneumonia at Chicago, was compelled to relinquish my
business, and as soon as I was well enough to travel, was
ordered back to New York to recuperate my health. Here
I took up my abode in the Victoria Hotel, where a lady,
whose acquaintance I had made on my former visit to the
city, was living. As I have no permission to publish this
lady's name, I must call her Mrs. S . She had been a
Spiritualist for some time before I knev>'^ her, and she much
interested me by showing me an entry in her diary, made
four years previous to my arrival in America. It was an
account of the utterances of a Mrs. Philips, a clairvoyant
then resident in New York, during which she had prophe-
sied my arrival in the city, described my personal appear-
ance, profession, and general surroundings perfectly, and
foretold my acquaintanceship with Mrs. S . The pro-
phecy ended with words to the effect that our meeting
would be followed by certain effects that would influence
her future life,^and that on the 17th of March, 1885, would
commence a new era in her existence. It was at the
beginning of March that we first lived under the same roof.
As soon as Mrs. S found that I was likely to have some
weeks of leisure, she became very anxious that we should
visit the New York media together ; for although she had
so long been a believer in Spiritualism, she had not (owing
to family opposition) met with much sympathy on the sub-
ject, or had the opportunity of much investigation. So
we determined, as soon as I was well enough to go out in
the evening, that we would attend some seances. As it
happened, when that time came, we found the medium
most accessible to be Miss Virginia Roberts, of whom
neither of us knew anything but what we had learned from
THERE IS NO DEATH. 351
the public papers. However, it was necessary that I should
be exposed as little as possible to the night air, and so we
fixed, by chance as it were, to visit Miss Roberts first.
We found her living with her mother and brother in a small
house in one of the back streets of the city. She was a
young girl of sixteen, very reserved and rather timid-look-
ing, who had to be drawn out before she could be made to
talk. She had only commenced sitting a few months
before, and that because her brother (who was also a
medium) had had an illness and been obliged to give up
his seances for a while. The seance room was very small,
the manifestations taking place almost in the midst of the
circle, and the cabinet (so-called) was the flimsiest con-
trivance I had ever seen. Four uprights of iron, not
thicker than the rod of a muslin Hind, with cross-bars of
the same, on which were hung thin curtains of lilac print,
formed the construction of this cabinet, which shook and
swayed about each time a form left or entered it. A har-
monium for accompanying the voices, and a few chairs for
the audience, was all the furniture the room contained.
The first evening we went to see Miss Roberts there were
only two or three sitters beside ourselves. The medium
seemed to be pretty nearly unknown, and I resolved, as I
usually do in such cases, not to expect anything, for fear
I should be disappointed.
Mrs. S , on the contrary, was all expectation and
excitement. If she had ever sat for materializations, it
had been long before, and the idea was like a new one to
her. After two or three forms had appeared, of no interest
to us, a gentleman in full evening dress walked suddenly
out of the cabinet, and said, '• Kate," which was the name
of Mrs. S . He was a stout, well-formed man, of an
imposing presence, with dark hair and eyes, and he wore a
solitaire of diamonds of unusual brilliancy in his shirt front.
I had no idea who he was ; but Mrs. S recognized him
at once as an old lover who had died whilst under a mis-
understanding with her, and she was powerfully affected —
more, she was terribly frightened. It seems that she wore
at her throat a brooch which he had given her ; but every
time he approached her with the view of touching it, she
shrieked so loudly, and threw herself into such a state of
nervous agitation, that I thought she would have to return
home again. However, on her being accommodated with
252 THERE IS NO DEATH.
a chair in the last row so that she might have the other
sitters between her and the materialized spirits, she man-
aged to calm herself. The only friend who appeared for
me that evening was "John Powles;" and, to my surprise
and pleasure, he appeared in the old uniform of the 12th
Madras Native Infantry. This corps wore facings of fawn,
with buttons bearing the word " Ava," encircled by a
wreath of laurel. The mess jackets were lined with wadded
fawn silk, and the waistcoats were trimmed with three lines
of narrow gold braid. Their " karkee," or undress uniform,
established in 1859, consisted of a tunic and trousers of a
sad green cloth, with the regimental buttons and a crimson
silk sash. The marching dress of all officers in the Indian
service is made of white drill, with a cap cover of the same
material. '1 heir forage cloak is of dark blue cloth, and hangs
to their heels. Their forage cap has a broad square peak to
shelter the face and eyes. I mention these details for the
benefit of those who are not acquainted with the general
dress of the Indian army, and to show how difficult it
would have been for Virginia Roberts, or any other medium,
to have procured them, even had she known the private
wish expressed by me to " John Powles " in Boston, that
he would try and come to me in uniform. On this first
occasion of his appearing so, he wore the usual everyday
coat, buttoned up to his chin, and he made me examine
the buttons to see that they bore the crest and motlo of
the regiment. And I may say here, that before I left New
York he appeared to me in every one of the various dresses
I have described above, and became quite a marked figure
in the city.
When it was made known through the papers that an old
friend of Florence Marryal had appeared through the
mediumship of Virginia Roberts, in a uniform of thirty
years before, I received numbers of private letters inquir-
ing if it were true, and dozens of people visited Miss
Roberts' seances for the sole purpose of seeing him. He
took a great liking for Mrs. S , and when she had con-
quered her first fear she became quite friendly with him,
and I heard, after leaving New York, that he continued to
appear for her as long as she attended those seances.
There was one difference in the female spirits that came
through Virginia Roberts from those of other media.
Those that were strong enough to leave the cabinet inva-
THERE IS NO DEATH. 253
riably disappeared by floating upwards through the ceiling.
Their mode of doing this was most graceful. They would
first clasp their hands behind their heads and lean back-
ward ; then their feet were lifted off the ground, and they
were borne upward in a recumbent position. When I
related this to my friend, Dr. George Leffcrts (under whom
I was for throat treatment to recover my voice), he declared
there must be some machinery connected with the uprights
that supported the cabinet, by which the forms were ele-
vated. He had got it all so " pat " that lie was able to
take a pencil and demonstrate to me on paper exactly how
the machinery worked, and how easy it would be to swing
full-sized human bodies up to the ceiling with it. How
they managed to disappear when they got there he was not
quite prepared to say ; but if he once saw the trick done,
he would explain the whole matter to me, and expose it
into the bargain. I told Dr. Lefferts, as I have told many
other clever men,' that I shall be the first person open to
conviction when they can convince me, and I bore him off
to a private seance with Virginia Roberts for that purpose
only. He was all that was charming on the occasion. He
gave me a most delightful dinner at Delmonico's first (for
which I tender him in print my grateful recollection), and
he tested all Miss Roberts' manifestations in the most
delicate and gentlemanly manner (sceptics as a rule are
neither delicate nor gentlemanly), but he could neither
open my eyes to chicanery nor detect it himself. He
handled and shook the frail supports of the cabinet, and
confessed they were much too weak to bear any such weight
as he had imagined. He searched the carpeted floor and
the adjoining room for hidden machinery without finding
the slightest thing to rouse his suspicions, and yet he saw
the female forms float upwards through the whitewashed
ceiling, and came away from the siance room as wise as
when he had entered it.
But this occurred some weeks after. I must relate first
what happened after our first seance with Miss Roberts.
Mrs. S and I were well enough pleased with the result
to desire to test her capabilities further, and with that intent
we invited her to visit us at our hotel. Spiritualism is as
much tabooed by one section of the American public as it
is encouraged by the other, and so we resolved to breathe
nothing of our intentions, but invite the girl to dine and
854 THERE IS NO DEATH,
spend the evening in our rooms with us just as if she were
an ordinary visitor. Consequently, we dined together at
the table d'hote before we took our way upstairs. Mrs.
S and I had a private sitting-room, the windows of
which were draped with white lace curtains only, and we
had no other means to shut out the light. Consequently,
when we wished to sit, all we could do was to place a
chair for Virginia Roberts in the window recess, behind
one of these pairs of curtains, and pin them together in
front of her, which formed the airiest cabinet imaginable.
We then locked the door, lowered the gas, and sat down
on a sofa before the curtains.
In the space of five minutes, without the lace curtains
having been in the slightest degree disturbed, Francis Lean,
my stepson, walked through them, and came up to my side.
He was dressed in his ordinary costume of jersey and
"jumpers," and had a little worsted cap upon his head.
He displayed all tlie peculiarities of speech and manner I
have noticed before ; but he was much less timid, and
stood by me for a long time talking of my domestic affairs,
which were rather complicated, and giving me a detailed
account of the accident which caused his death, and which
had been always somewhat of a mystery. In doing this,
he mentioned names of people hitherto unknown to me,
but which I found on after inquiry to be true. He seemed
quite delighted to be able to manifest so indisputably like
himself, and remarked more than once, " I'm not much like
a girl now, am I, Ma ? "
Next, Mrs. S 's old lover came, of whom she was
still considerably alarmed, and her father, who had been a
great politician and a well-known man. *' Florence," too,
of course, though never so lively through Miss Roberts as
through other media, but still happy though pensile, and
full of advice how I was to act when I reached England
again. Presently a soft voice said, " Aunt Flo, don't you
know me? " And I saw standing in front of me my niece
and godchild, Lilian Thomas, who had died as a nun in
the Convent of the " Dames Anglaises " at Bruges. She
was clothed in her nun's habit, which was rather peculiar,
the face being surrounded by a white cap, with a crimped
border that hid all the hair, and surmounted by a white
veil of some heavy woollen material which covered the
head and the black serge dress. " Lilian " had died of
THERE IS NO DEATH. 255
consumption, and the death-like, waxy complexion which
she had had for some time before was exactly reproduced.
She had not much to say for herself; indeed, we had been
completely separated since she had entered the convent, but
she was undoubtedly there. She was succeeded by my
sister " Emily," whom I have already so often described.
And these apparitions, six in number, and all recognizable,
were produced in the private room of Mrs. S and
myself, and with no other person but Virginia Roberts,
sixteen years old.
It was about this time that we received an invitation to
attend a private seance in a large house in the city, occu-
pied by Mr. and Mrs. Newman, who had Maud Lord
staying with them as a visitor. Maud Lord's mediumship
is a peculiar one. She places her sitters in a circle, hold-
ing hands. She then seats herself on a chair in the centre,
and keeps on clapping her hands, to intimate that she has
not changed her position. The seance is held in darkness,
and the manifestations consist of " direct voices," i.e.
voices that every one can hear, and by what they say to
you, you must judge of their identity and truthfulness. I
had only witnessed powers of this kind once before — ■
through Mrs. Bassett, who is now Mrs. Heme — but as no
one spoke to me through her whom I recognized, I have
omitted to give any account of it.
As soon as Maud Lord's sitting was fully established, I
heard her addressing various members of the company,
telling them who stood beside them, and I heard them
putting questions to, or holding conversations with, crea-
ture who were invisible to me. The time went on, and I
believed I was going to be left out of it, when I heard a
voice close to my ear whisper, "Arthur." At the same
moment Maud Lord's voice sounded in my direction, saying
that the lady in the brown velvet hat had a gentleman
standing near her, named " Arthur," who wished to be
recognized. I was the only lady present in a brown velvet
hat, yet I could not recall any deceased friend of the
name of " Arthur " who might wish to communicate with
me. (It is a constant occurrence at a seance that the
mind refuses to remember a name, or a circumstance, and
on returning home, perhaps the whole situation makes it-
self clear, and one wonders how one could have been so
dull as not to perceive it.) So I said that I knew no one
256 THERE IS NO DEATH.
in the spirit-world of that name, and Maud Lord replied,
" Well, he knows you, at all events." A few more minutes
elapsed, when I felt a touch on the third finger of my left
hand, and the voice spoke again and said, "Arthur!
* Artlmr's ring.' Have you quite forgotten ? " This action
brought the person to my memory, and I exclaimed, " Oh I
Johnny Cope^ is it you? "
To explain this, I must tell my readers tliat when I
went out to India in 1854, Arthur Cope of the Lancers
was a passenger by the same steamer; and when we
landed in Madras, he made me a present of a diamond
ring, which I wore at that seance as a guard. But he was
never called by anything but his nickname of "Johnny,"
so that his real appellation had quite slipped my memory.
The poor fellow died in 1856 or 1857, and I had been
ungrateful enough to forget all about him, and should
never have remembered his name had it not been coupled
with the ring. It would have been still more remarkable,
though, if Maud Lord, who had never seen me till that
evening, had discovered an incident which happened
thirty years before, and which I had completely forgotten.
Before I had been many days in New York, I fell
ill again from exposing myself to the weather, this time
with a bad throat. Mr. S and I slept in the same
room, and our sitting-room opened into the bedroom. She
was indefatigable in her attentions and kindness to me
during my illness, and kept running backwards and for-
wards from the bedroom to the sitting-room, both by
night and day, to get me fresh poultices, which she kept
hot on the steam stove.
One evening about eleven o'clock she got out of bed in
her nightdress, and went into the next room for this pur-
pose. Almost directly after she entered it, I heard a
heavy fall. I called her by name, and receiving no answer,
became frightened, jumped out of bed, and followed her.
To my consternation, I found her stretched out, at full
length, on a white bearskin rug, and quite insensible. She
was a delicate woman, and I thought at first that she had
fainted from fatigue ; but when she showed no signs of
returning consciousness, I became alarmed. I was very
weak myself from my illness, and hardly able to stand,
but I managed to put on a dressing-gown and summon
the assistance of a lady who occupied the room next to us.
THERE IS 1^0 DEATH. >i<*i
and whose acquaintance we had already made. She was
strong and capable, and helped me to place Mrs. S
upon the sofa, where she lay in the same condition. After
we had done all we could think of to bring her to herself
without effect, the next-door lady became frightened. She
said to me, " I don't like this. I think we ought to call in
a doctor. Supposing she were to die without regaining
consciousness." I replied, " I should say the same, ex-
cepting I begin to believe she has not fainted at all, but is
in a trance ; and in that case, any violent attempts to
bring her to herself might injure her. Just see how quietly
she breathes, and how very young she looks."
When her attention was called to this fact, the next-
door lady was astonished. Mrs. S , who was a woman
past forty, looked like a girl of sixteen. She was a very
pretty woman, but with a dash of temper in her expres-
sion which spoiled it. Now with all the passions and
lines smoothed out of it, she looked perfectly lovely. So
she might have looked in death. But she was not dead.
She was breathing. So I felt sure that the spirit had
escaped for a while and left her free. I covered her up
warmly on the sofa, and determined to leave her there till
the trance had passed. After a while I persuaded the
next-door lady to think as I did, and to go back to her own
bed. As soon as she had gone, I administered my own
poultice, and sat down to watch beside my friend. The
time went on until seven in the morning — seven hours she
had lain, without moving a limb, upon the sofa — when,
without any warning, she sat up and gazed about her. I
called her by name, and asked her what she wanted ; but
I could see at once, by her expression, that she did not
know me. Presently she asked me, " Who are you? " I
told her. " Are you Kate's friend ? " she said. I an-
swered, "Yes." "Do you know who /am?" was the
next question, which, of course, I answered in the nega-
tive. Mrs. S thereupon gave me the name of a Ger-
man gentleman which I had never heard before. An
extraordinary scene then followed. Influenced by the
spirit that possessed her, Mrs. S rose and unlocked a
cabinet of her own, which stood in the room, and taking
thence a bundle of old letters, she selected several and
read portions of them aloud to me. She then told me a
history of herself and the gentleman whose spirit was speak-
17
as8 THERE IS NO DEATH.
ing through her, and gave me several messages to deliver to
herself the following day. It will be sufficient for me to
say that this history was of so private a nature, that it was
most unlikely she would have confided it to me or any
one, particularly as she was a woman of a most secretive
nature ; but names, addresses, and even words of conver-
sations were given, in a manner which would have left no
room for doubt of their truthfulness, even if Mrs. S
had not confirmed them to be facts afterwards. This went
on for a long time, the spirit expressing the greatest ani-
mosity against Mrs. S all the while, and then the
power seemed suddenly to be spent, and she went off to
sleep again upon the sofa, waking up naturally about an
hour afterwards, and very much surprised to hear what
had happened to her meanwhile. When we came to
consider the matter, we found that this unexpected seizure
had taken place upon the i']th of March, the day pre-
dicted by Mrs. Philips four years previously as one on
which a new era would commence for Mrs. S . From
that time she continually went into trances, and used to
predict the future for herself and others ; but whether she
has kept it up to this day I am unable to say, as I have
heard nothing from her since I left America.
That event took place on the 13th of June, 1885. We
had been in the habit of spending our Sunday evenings in
Miss Roberts' siance room, and she begged me not to miss
the last opportunity. When we arrived there, we found
that the accompanist who usually played the harmonium
for them was unable to be present, and Miss Roberts asked
if I would be his substitute. I said I would, on condition
that they moved the instrument on a line with the cabinet,
so that I might not lose a sight of what was going on.
This was accordingly done, and I commenced to play
"Thou art gone from my gaze." Almost immediately
" John Powles " stepped out, dressed in uniform, and stood
by the harmonium with his hand upon my shoulder. " I
never was much of a singer, yon know, Flo," he said to
me ; " but if you will sing that song with me, I'll try and
go through it." And he actually did sing (after a fashion)
the entire two verses of the ballad, keeping his hand on
my shoulder the whole time. When we came to the line,
" I seek thee in vain by the meadow and stream," he stooped
down and whispered in my ear, " Not quite in vain, Flo,
THERE IS NO DEATH. 259
has it been ? " I do not know if my English Spiritualistic
friends can ** cap " this story, but in America they told
me it was quite a unique performance, particularly at a
public stance, where the jarring of so many diverse in-
fluences often hinders instead of helping the manifestations.
"Powles" appeared to be especially strong on that
occasion. Towards the middle of the evening a kind of
whining was heard to proceed from the cabinet ; and Miss
Roberts, who was not entranced, said, " There's a baby
coming out for Miss Marryat." At the same time the face
of little " Yonnie " appeared at the opening of the curtains,
but nearly level with the ground, as she was crawling out
on all fours. Before she had had time to advance beyond
them, " Powles " stepped over her and came amongst us.
"Oh, Powles ! " I exclaimed, "you used to love my little
babies. Do pick up that one for me that I may see it
properly." He immediately returned, took up " Yonnie,"
and brought her out into the circle on his arm. The
contrast of the baby's white kind of nightgown with his
scarlet uniform was very striking. He carried the child to
each sitter that it might be thoroughly examined ; and
when he had returned " Yonnie " to the cabinet, he came
out again on his own account. That evening I was sum-
moned into the cabinet myself by the medium's guide, a
little Italian girl, who had materialized several times for
our benefit. When I entered it, I stumbled up against
Miss Roberts' chair. There was barely room for me to
stand beside it. She said to me, " Is \\\dX you., Miss Mar-
ryat ? " and I replied, " Yes ; didn't you send for me ? "
She said " No ; I didn't send, I know nothing about it ! "
A voice behind me said, "/sent for you !" and at the
same moment two strong arms were clasped round my
waist, and a man's face kissed me over my shoulder. I
asked, " Who are you ? " and he replied, " Walk out of the
cabinet and you shall see." I turned round, two hands
were placed upon my shoulders, and I walked back into
the circle with a tall man walking behind me in that posi-
tion. When I could look at him in the gaslight, I re-
cognized my brother, Frank Marryat, who died in 1855,
and whom I had never seen since. Of course, the other
spirits who were familiar with Mrs. S and myself came
to wish me a pleasant voyage across the Atlantic, but I
have mentioned them all so often that I fear I must already
26o THERE IS NO DEATH.
have tired out the patience of my readers. But in order
to be impressive it is so necessary to be explicit. All I
can bring forward in excuse is, that every word I have
written is the honest and unbiassed truth. Here, there-
fore, ends the account of my experience in Spiritualism up
to the present moment — not, by any means, the half, nor
yet the quarter of it, but all I consider likely to interest
the general public. And those who have been interested
in it may see their own friends as I have done, if they will
only take the same trouble that I have done.
THERE IS NO DEATH. 261
CHAPTER XXX.
' QUI BONO ? "
My friends have so often asked me this question, that I
tliink, before I close this book, I am justified in answering
it, at all events, as far as I myself am concerned. How
often have I sat, surrounded by an interested audience,
who knew me too well to think me either a lunatic or a
liar ; and after I have told them some of the most mar-
vellous and thrilling of my experiences, they have assailed
me with these questions, " But what is it ? And what ^<7o^
does it do ? What is it ? " There, my friends, I confess
you stagger me ! I can no more tell you what it is than I
can tell you what yott are or what / am. We know that,
like Topsy, we " grew." We know that, given certain
conditions and favorable accessories, a child comes into
this world, and a seed sprouts through the dark earth and
becomes a flower ; but though we know the cause and see
the effect, the greatest man of science, or the greatest
botanist, cannot tell you how the child is made, nor how
the plant grows. Neither can I (or any one) tell you what
the power is that enables a spirit to make itself apparent.
I can only say that it can do so, and refer you to the Crea-
tor of you and me and the entire universe. The common-
est things the earth produces are all miracles, from the
growing of a mustard seed to the expansion of a human
brain. What is more wonderful than the hatching of an
egg ? You see it done every day. It has become so com-
mon that you regard it as an event of no consequence.
You know the exact number of days the bird must sit to
produce a live chicken with all its functions ready for
nature's use, but you see nothing wonderful in it. All
birds can do the same, and you would not waste your time
in speculating on the wondrous effect of heat upon a liquid
substance which turns to bone and blood and flesh and
feathers.
If you were as familiar with the reappearance of those
who have gone before as you are with chickens, you would
262 THERE IS NO DEATH.
see nothing supernatural in their manifesting themselves
to you, and nothing more miraculous than in. the birth of a
child or the hatching of an egg. Why should it be ? Who
has fixed the abode of the spirit after death ? Who can
say where it dwells, or that it is not permitted to return
to this world, perhaps to live in it altogether ? Still, how-
ever the Almighty sends them, the fact remains that they
come, and that thousands can testify to the fact. As to
the theory advanced by some people that they are devils,
sent to lure us to our destruction, that is an insult to the
wisdom or mercy of an Omnipotent Creator. They cannot
come except by His permission, just as He sends children
to some people and withholds them from others. And the
conversation of most of those that I have talked with is all
on the side of religion, prayer, and self-sacrifice. My
friends, at all events, have never denied the existence of
a God or a Saviour. They have, on the contrary (and
especially " Florence "), been very quick to rebuke me for
anything I may have done that was wrong, for neglect of
prayer and church-going, for speaking evil of my neigh-
bors, or any other fault. They have continually incul-
cated the doctrine that religion consists in unselfish love
to our fellow-creatures, and in devotion to God. I do not
deny that there are frivolous and occasionally wicked
spirits about us. Is it to be wondered at ? For one spirit
that leaves this world calculated to do good to his fellow-
creatures, a hundred leave it who will do him harm. That
is really the reason that the Church discourages Spirit-
ualism. She does not disbelieve in it. She knows it to be
true ; but she also knows it to be dangerous. Since like
attracts like, the numbers of thoughtless spirits who still
dwell on earth would naturally attract the numbers of
thoughtless spirits who have left it, and their influence is
best dispensed with. Talk of devils. I have known many
more devils in the flesh than out of it, and could name a
number of acquaintances who, when once passed out of
this world, I should steadfastly refuse to have any com-
munication with. I have no doubt myself whatever as to
what it is, or that I have seen my dear friends and children
as I knew them upon earth. But how they come or where
they go, I must wait until I join them to ascertain, even if
I shall do it then.
THERE IS NO DEATH. 2.(>i
The second question, however, I can more easily deal
with, What good is it? The only wonder to me is that
people who are not stone-blind to what is going on in this
world can put such a question. What good is it to have
one's faith in Immortality and another life confirmed in an
age of freethought, scepticism and utter callousness ? When
I look around me and see the young men nowadays — ay,
and the young women too — who believe in no hereafter,
who lie down and die, like the dumb animals who cannot
be made to understand the love of the dear God who
created them although they feel it, I cannot think of any-
thing calculated to do them more good than the return of
a father or a mother or a friend, who could convince them
by ocular demonstration that there is a future life and
happiness and misery, according to the one we have led
here below.
" Oh, but," I seem to hear some readers exclaim, " we
do believe in all that you say. We have been taught so
from our youth up, and the Bible points to it in every
line." You may think you believe it, my friends, and in a
theoretical way you may ; but you do not realize it, and
the whole of your lives proves it. Death, instead of being
the blessed portal to the Life Elysian, the gate of which
may swing open for you any day, and admit you to eternal
and unfading happiness, is a far-off misty phantom, whose
approach you dread, and the sight of which in others you
run away from. The majority of people avoid the very
mention of death. They would not look at a corpse for
anything ; the sight of a coffin or a funeral or a graveyard
fills them with horror ; the idea of it for themselves makes
them turn pale with fright. Is this belief in the existence
of a tender Father and a blessed home waiting to receive
them on the other side ? Even professed Christian expe-
rience what they term a " natural " horror at the thought
of death! I have known persons of fixed religious princi-
ples who had passed their lives (apparently) in prayer,
and expressed their firm belief in Heaven waiting for them,
fight against death with all their mortal energies, and try
their utmost to baffle the disease that was sent to carry
them to everlasting happiness. Is this logical ? It is tan-
tamount in my idea to the pauper in the workhouse who
knows that directly the gate is open to let him through, he
will pass from skilly, oakum, and solitary confinement to
264 THERE IS NO DEATH.
the King's Palace to enjoy youth, healthy and prosperity
evermore ; and who, when he sees the gates beginning to
unclose, puts his back and all his neighbors' backs against
them to keep them shut as long as possible.
Death should not be a " horror " to any one; and if we
knew more about it, it would cease to be so. It is the
mystery that appals us. We see our friends die, and no
word or sign comes back to tell us that there is no death,
so we picture them to ourselves mouldering in the damp
earth till we nearly go mad with grief and dismay. Some
people think me heartless because I never go near the
graves of those whom I love best. Why should I ? I
might with more reason go and sit beside a pile of their
cast-off garments. I could see them, and they would
actually retain more of their identity and influence than
the corpse which I could not see. I mourn their loss just
the same, but I mourn it as I should do if they had settled
for life in a far distant land, from which I could only enjoy
occasional glimpses of their happiness.
And I may say emphatically that the greatest good
Spiritualism does is to remove the fear of one's own death.
One can never be quite certain of the changes that circum-
stances may bring about, nor do I like to boast overmuch.
Disease and weakness may destroy the nerve I flatter my-
self on possessing ; but I think I may say that as matters
stand at present ///atz'*? no fear of death whatever, and the
only trouble I can foresee in passing through it will be to
witness the distress of my friends. But when I remember
all those who have gathered on the other side, and whom I
firmly believe will be present to help me in my passage
there, I can feel nothing but a great curiosity to pierce the
mysteries as yet unrevealed to me, and a great longing for
the time to come when I shall join those whom I loved so
much on earth. Not to be happy at once by any manner
of means. I am too sinful a mortal for that, but " to work
out my salvation " in the way God sees best for me, to
make my own heaven or hell according as I have loved
and succoured my fellow-creatures here below. Yet how-
ever much I may be destined to suffer, never without hope
and assistance from those whom I have loved, and never
without feeling that through the goodness of God each
struggle or reparation brings me near to the fruition ol
eternal happiness. This is my belief, tliis is the good that
THERE IS NO DEATH. 265
the certain knowledge that we can never die has done for
me, and tlie worst I wish for anybody is that they may
share it with me.
Oh ! though oft depressed and lonely,
All my fears are laid aside,
If I but remember only
Such as these have lived and died."
THE END.
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