The Missing Link in Modern Spiritualism

CHAPTER VII.

MEDIUMISTIC VEIN IN OUR FAMILY (Continued).

MARVELLOUS WRITING BY A BABY MEDIUM.

But I must mention more particularly the case of my little nephew, the elder of the two children of my sister Katie, now Mrs. Jencken (pronounced Yencken); for I have now before me two pieces of writing actually executed by his baby fingers. The story of the incident is as follows:

Katie and I were sitting at the billiard table, which then occupied the middle of our library, with the child in my lap; while his mother, at my side, was relating some of the incidents of the day. (She had been calling on old friends.) The child being troublesome in his movements and cries, his mother, to quiet him, gave him the paper and pencil (it was a piece of white blotting paper, not much inked by use), as the child was fond of scratching lines and marks. She said, “There! take that, and keep still.” He dropped the paper once or twice, and I picked it up and held one end of it, he holding the other; and with his disengaged hand I noticed that he was not making mere marks and scratches, but that he was actually forming letters, and I exclaimed, “Why, Katie, he is writing!”

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” was her answer. We watched the process, as his dear little fingers were guided to complete, in somewhat straggling letters, though perfectly distinct, “Grandma is here. Boysie.” It is not strong nor dark enough to be reproduced in photography, but any respectable inquirer is welcome to inspection of the sentence written by the child, then one year old. His father had been delighted, at his birth, with the appearance of so beautiful a child; and his baptismal name was Ferdinand Lowenstein Diedrick. His pet name was “Boysie.” The extent of his baby vocabulary at that time was “papa” and “mamma.” My late brother-in-law, Mr. Jencken, was a highly respected barrister in London. He was prominent in the labors of the “Society for the Codification of International Law,” of which the well-known David Dudley Field is President; who has said of him that not half a dozen men in all Europe could compete with him.

Besides the above-mentioned writing actually executed by this wonderful medium baby of about a year old, which I have in my possession, and of which I regret that it cannot be photographed, I have before me also a photographic copy, of carte de visite size (sent me by Mr. Jencken), of a piece of writing executed by his infant fingers at the age of five months and eighteen days (of course controlled by Spirit power), in these words: I love this little boy. God bless his mama. J. B. F. And below, I am happy (the last syllable of “happy” being scrawled very indistinctly). Below it is the following attestation by Mr. Jencken’s hand: “Written by the infant boy of Mrs. Jencken on the 11th March, 1874, aged five months and eighteen days. Mr. Jencken, Mrs. Jencken, and nurse present.”

On the rear of the card, in the hand of Mr. Jencken (and in that of my sister, Katie, for her signature), is the further attestation: “The writing on the other side of this leaf was written by our infant child, aged five months and eighteen days, in our presence, in a clear light, the pencil having been placed in the baby’s hand by an invisible agency.—London, 11th March, 1874. (Signed) H. D. Jencken. (Signed) K. F. Jencken.”

On the opposite page will be found lithographic copies of the two sides of the card above described.

Among my loose papers I find a newspaper article from the London Spiritualist of December 12, 1873, respecting this extraordinary child:

“Mediumship of a Baby.—H. D. Jencken, Barrister-at-Law, of 53 Brompton-Crescent, Brompton, has had further disturbances in his house, in consequence of the mediumship of his little boy, aged two months.

“Last Friday Mr. Jencken and Mrs. Jencken (Kate Fox) went to the great scientific soirée at the Crystal Palace, and that same evening, about nine o’clock, their housemaid, Elizabeth, went up-stairs to the front drawing-room to turn down the gas burners. As she approached the door she saw its handle turn round and she cried out, ‘Who is that?’ The door then opened, and a veiled figure looked out at her. She only saw a part of the face, because the white drapery about it hid the rest, and she fancied that the eyes had an evil look. She ran down-stairs and gave the alarm to the cook and sempstress, saying that she thought thieves were in the house.

“Just after this occurred on the first floor, the nurse, Mrs. Macarthy, who was watching the baby in a room near the top of the house, heard footsteps outside; the door gently opened, and a short woman, young and pleasant-looking, robed in white, entered, and returned quickly, twice. At first the nurse thought that a joke was being played upon her; but, upon searching the adjoining room and landing, she could not find anybody. She then went down-stairs and joined the three servants below, who had previously heard footsteps going up-stairs from the drawing-room to the nursery.

“The cook then went for a policeman, and the other three servants went up to the nursery, where they heard rapping noises and voices; the latter were not sufficiently distinct to be intelligible. They also heard footsteps going right up to the top of the house. When the police arrived they searched the house and found nothing. Just as they were going away, some footsteps followed them down the stairs. One of the policemen turned round and said that the noises must be caused by a ghost.

“Three days previously the housemaid had seen a figure in the drawing-room. It suddenly disappeared. This form, she said, was covered with a shawl, like that worn by Mrs. Jencken before she left the house. Was it Mrs. Jencken’s ‘double,’ present there in consequence of her constant thoughts about the baby?

“The nurse says she has seen hands making passes over the baby, and has heard raps at the head of the child’s bedstead, and once the pillow was pressed down by an unseen hand. On another occasion, a gold ring was seen knocking against the iron rail at the head of the bedstead. Last Sunday we questioned the nurse and housemaid on all these points. They were in a very nervous state about the whole matter, and evidently deeply impressed by the circumstances, since they knew nothing about Spiritualism, until these phenomena forced themselves upon their attention.

“Mr. Jencken tells us that a few days ago, about six o’clock in the morning, while it was yet dark, Mrs. Jencken brought the child to him. A strong light streamed from both the eyes of the baby, and illuminated its face, and raps said, ‘We are looking at you through the eyes of the baby.’ When Mr. Jencken stated this, we called his attention to the circumstance that a similar thing had occurred in connection with the mediumship of Swedenborg, whose eyes shone for a time with such lustre, as to frighten some persons who unexpectedly entered his room. In that case also, the Spirits said that they were looking through his eyes. On several occasions recently, while we have been present at séances at Mr. Jencken’s house, footsteps have been heard outside, and the rustling of a dress against the door. On quickly opening the door, nobody was there.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jencken leave town for Brighton next Monday.”

For a further specimen of Spirit writing executed by the fingers of this marvellous infant, the reader is referred to page 550 of Mrs. E. Hardinge Britten’s recent great work, entitled “Nineteenth Century Miracles.” The writing in this case was, “I love this little child God bless him advise his father to go back to London on Monday by all means. Susan.” The attesting witnesses are, I. Wason, K. F. Jencken, E. Buffum, New Church College, Devonshire Street, Islington, London, and the + mark of Mrs. McCarthy, the nurse who held the child.

From a letter from Mr. Jencken I know that this advice to him “to go back to London on Monday by all means” was good counsel. It proved that his presence there was necessary for important business. Mrs. Britten’s book (p. 550) gives a facsimile of this communication as written by Spirit power through the tiny fingers of a baby. My sister wrote me at the time a long letter about it, full of anxiety lest so wonderful a child could not be expected to grow up to health. Its correctness is therefore unimpeachable. But I must add that the letter-press at the bottom, in which the age of the infant is given as “nine days,” is a manifest mistake, probably typographical. It is quite sufficient that his age counted by months. As a human achievement by such baby fingers, it would be incredible; as the act of a Spirit employing those of a remarkable baby medium, it is simple enough to the apprehension of any experienced Spiritualist.

What future awaits this child remains to be seen. The house of his parents used for a time to be overrun by people of rank too high to be (in that country) refused admittance, who wanted to see some specimens of his mediumistic manifestations; until his parents wisely determined to break it all off, and not allow any exercise of his powers in that line to be indulged in, till he shall have reached the age of adult physical development in health and strength.

The child is now about ten years of age, and, I rejoice to say, healthy, active, and bright, as well as beautiful;—and further that his parents have kept him entirely aloof from mediumship—to which course I strongly advised them.

OUR MOTHER AND FATHER.

Our dear mother (who passed from this life to the next on the 3d August, 1865) was a woman of sound intellect, gentle disposition, very charitable, and just to every one. She had great power of discrimination, and seldom failed in her estimate of character. Her portrait looks down upon me from our parlor wall; and when I look up into her blessed face, my first impulse is to fall upon my knees and thank my God that I have had such a mother.

Robert Dale Owen was one day sitting in the back parlor, engaged in writing. He remained with us three months, at my husband’s invitation, while writing his “Foot-falls on the Boundary of Another World.” He sat at equal distance from mother and her portrait, alternately looking from one to the other. As I stepped in the door, he turned to me and said, “Mrs. Underhill, if that were the portrait of my mother, and she were living, as yours now is, and could sit for another every day, I would not take a thousand dollars for it. I never saw a portrait so perfectly correct in my life, and I doubt if you could ever get another so perfect.”

Our father was not as well known to the public. Situated as we were, our parents concluded that, as we were compelled to travel and submit to all investigations necessary to establish a new truth (for new it was, to us), or to submit to, or rest under the condemnation of the world at large, we must of necessity have suitable companions. Therefore it was decided that mother and Calvin should go wherever we went.

Our father was a member of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and was a class leader at the time of his death (on the 10th January, 1865). One Sunday morning he was ready to go to church and stood in the library, waiting for my husband, who was going with him. I stood beside him when suddenly the signal for the alphabet was given. I repeated the letters, and the Spirit said, “My dear son, it is a pleasure to me to attend you to the church. I always go with you there.”

His chest heaved, and with tears in his eyes he said, “Are you the Spirit of my dear mother now speaking to me?” The answer was, “Yes, I am your mother Catharine.” He then asked, “Is my father here too?” Answer, “Yes, my dear son. I bless you this morning. We shall all be together in Heaven soon.           “David.”

I asked him, “Do you think the Methodists would approve of this if you were to read it to them?” He replied, “It would matter little to me whether they did or not. I not only believe it but I know it is true, and the time will come when they will all believe it.”

Mr. Underhill then went with him to church, and when they returned he said to me (holding up the little message in his hand), “This, to me, is far stronger proof of a glorious immortality than all the preachers on earth could give me.”

Mother was also a member of the same church in Rochester in 1849. She was officially waited upon in Arcadia by a very young preacher (hardly twenty years of age in appearance) who had, evidently, but little experience in the office to which he had been specially called to save souls. He introduced himself as the “servant of the Lord,” and, walking up to mother, said, “This is sister Fox, I suppose?” Mother replied, “I am Mrs. Fox.” “Well, Mrs. Fox, there is a complaint against you for countenancing your children in carrying on a wicked deception. It is calculated to do much harm, and it is contrary to the religion of the Bible.” He urged her to make her confession before the church, and cause her children to discontinue their unholy pursuit, and she could remain in good standing in the church. This little man was a circuit preacher, and we suppose had taken upon himself to do the Lord’s work, in his own way, as we never heard from him again; and I seriously doubt if any one ever sent him. It recalls what Sojourner Truth said to the preacher, when she was attending a woman’s rights meeting in the church and a violent thunder-storm came up, with peal after peal shaking the building to its foundation, when the minister arose and proposed that they should adjourn, as he thought the Lord was angry on account of the movement, and he believed it was wicked to hold such a meeting in a church.

Sojourner arose and said to him, “Set still, chile. Don’t you be afeared. I don’ believe the Lord ever hearn tell on you.”

Mother was never expelled from the church, but the leading members came to our side—minister and all.

A celebrated seer has publicly asserted that rapping mediums are necessarily of nervous temperament, apprehensive of evil, and usually diseased.

There has never been in our family, so far as I have been able to trace them, on either side, a taint of disease; from my mother’s grandfather Rutan, who lived to be ninety-three years of age, and her grandfather on her father’s side, John C. Smith, who was more than eighty years of age when he left this sphere of existence. The same is true of my father’s father and grandfather, neither of whom were diseased. We have been singularly free from all manner of ailments so common in thousands of families. We had no taint of hereditary scrofula, were never subject to inflammatory diseases. Healthy, sound, and strong, not easily frightened, steadfast in faith, and never disposed to believe anything without evidence. I have very little interest in anything covered by the words theoretic speculations, or in self-induced conditions, in which many thousands who stand on rostrums and teach the anxious inquirers after truth that of which they themselves know little or nothing. My motto is: Live up to your highest light. Listen to the small voice within, and obey the dictates of your conscience. Do unto others as you would be done by. Follow the golden rule. Go worship where and what your conscience, not pride, leads you, and you need not fear to meet your God.

Justice as well as reverential duty has prompted my gracing the title-page with the portrait of my mother, rather than follow the customary practice of placing upon it that of the author, by way of personal introduction to the eye of the reader. Though, as has been seen, our father had but little part to play beyond that of consenting spectator in the early history of Spiritualism, yet my mother’s part in it, and services to its cause, were of the highest value and importance. Her strength, moral and mental, as the central figure of our family group before the public, largely supported us in our mission, in which she always accompanied and protected us; nor, after she had once yielded her consent and acceptance of the “duty,” did she ever begrudge her time and her labors thus withdrawn from the private life of domesticity, which would have been infinitely her preference.

CHAPTER VIII.

ROCHESTER (Continued).

“Repeat the Lord’s Prayer”—First Money Accepted—Muscular Quakerism—Letter from George Willets—Letter from John E. Robinson—Caution against Consultation of Spirits about Worldly Interests.

To resume the narrative interrupted at page 74.

We left Corinthian Hall about ten o’clock P.M., and returned with Mr. and Mrs. Post, to their hospitable Quaker home.

We had passed the fiery ordeal. It had been a wearisome, exhausting trial. We needed rest, and it was thought advisable for us to remain there a few days. Many people called at our house on Troup Street, and, when they were informed of our absence, subsequently called at Mr. Post’s to see us, but were refused admittance under the circumstances which imposed the necessity.

Before we left this home of our kind and dear friends, mother and Kathie returned. (The latter had been to Mr. Capron’s, in Auburn, and returned with mother to Rochester.)

Mother had not heard of the public investigation, and thus was spared all the anxiety and torture of mind which we had undergone. She declared that if she had been there she would not have permitted it.

We were consoled by the reflection that we had fairly gained the victory, and cleared ourselves from the charges of deception; and that was our first and chief desire. We believed we had done our duty, and rejoiced that we had been so truly, so kindly and so nobly supported, and so honorably acquitted. Mother was rejoiced at our success and began to feel more resigned. Many persons continued to call, and all were anxious to learn from us and the Spirits something more than they were able to get through popular report or the newspapers. We often refused to see them, and declared we would not again subject ourselves to the criticisms of those who knew little or nothing of the subject, and were in general so bitterly hostile and prejudiced against it.

Oh, how little did we know of all that was before us! We had just opened the door to the public curiosity and interest; and it was not for us to discriminate who should enter therein. The people came from every direction. We knew not what to do. Judge Hascall came to spend an evening with us, bringing with him a large party of his friends, viz., Judge Summerfield, Hon. J. Hedden, Andrew Stewart, Mr. Duncan McNaughton, Judge Chamberlain, Mr. McKay, and Mr. McVean. One of these parties was known to his friends as an extreme infidel in religious matters.

Several of the parties named had visited us before, and they had urged Mr. McNaughton to spend the evening with us. He tried to excuse himself, but they insisted, and he finally consented to do so; they clearly understood that he was not to take any part in the investigation. They arrived at about eight o’clock P.M. Judge Hascall introduced the gentlemen as his friends and neighbors from Genesee County, N. Y. They were all distinguished men, holding high positions in their several pursuits.

No sooner had we taken our seats at the table, than the Spirits spelled out, “My dear son, repeat the Lord’s prayer.” Each member looked at the others inquiringly, but no word was spoken except to ask “Who?”

The rappings answered, “My dear son, ha’e ye forgotten your puir auld mither? O my son, repeat the Lord’s prayer.” Mr. McNaughton was a very tall man, with a strong Scotch accent. The rapping still continued to call upon him to repeat the Lord’s prayer. He looked from one to another, but said nothing. His friends urged him to comply with the Spirit’s request; but he was disgusted, and thought it was a trick which his friends were playing upon him, and as they were very jolly, he would not make himself ridiculous by resenting it: but still no further manifestations came, under the then state of things.

His friends told him that if he wanted to witness anything further he would have to comply with the request of the Spirit. After much persuasion, he reluctantly commenced in a very low, indistinct manner to mumble something that sounded like “Our father, which art in heaven.” By this time a universal roar of laughter broke from the company. Still, the Spirit urged him to go on, and he began again with little better success.

His friends knew full well it had been many a day since he had prayed with his “dear auld mither.” The Spirit then spelled that “all should join in repeating the Lord’s prayer,” and we all united in its repetition. The responsive rappings of approval were heard all over the room—on the table, chairs, floor, and wall. Mr. McNaughton looked astonished. The table danced with evident joy, and we were obliged to move back. There it stood, upon one foot, fairly dancing. Mr. McNaughton exclaimed boldly, in his Scotch dialect, “Exthraordinary! Exthraordinary! I begin to understand it now.” The laughter was over. The Spirit of his mother said, “My dear son, do you remember how we used to repeat the Lord’s prayer together, when you were a little laddie?” “Yes, mother. Yes, I comprehend it all. I am converted to the truth of Spiritual manifestations.”

The company remained until ten o’clock, and the manifestations were very satisfactory. They felt more than gratified, and, to use their own words, said, “We cannot go away without giving you some remuneration for the time you have kindly spent with us.” Mr. McNaughton had just lost a lovely daughter, and she gave him sweet assurance of her undying love and her immortal existence.

This is the first instance in which we had ever been offered payment for our time. They offered it in kindness and good faith, believing it was justly our due. But to us it seemed humiliating. We had not needed such aid, as my brother furnished us with provisions from the farm, and, with what I still had left of that received for teaching, I had enough for present purposes; and I fully intended to return with mother, and live at the old home. Still our friends insisted that we should not refuse their kindly intended gift. This first money was received on November 28, 1849.

I will here introduce, for love and veneration to his memory, a letter written about this time by our excellent Quaker friend George Willets, of Rochester, to Mr. E. W. Capron, who handed it over to me. He was one of the noblest of men. And Quaker as he was (he was one of the “Progressive Friends,” commonly called Hicksites), I once witnessed a scene in which a just and righteous indignation caused him to cast off his coat, in readiness to deal in very mundane fashion with an unworthy and misbehaving member of one of the “investigating committees.” “I’ve never fought a man in my life,” he said, “but I will not stand by and see thee insult these children.” The assailant wilted down. The provocation was such that I am sure the angel who may have charge of the short record of Quaker sins, after writing it “dropped a tear on the words and blotted them out forever.”

LETTER FROM GEORGE WILLETS.

(About end of 1848.)

Dear friend, E. W. Capron:

It is with some reluctance that I furnish you with the following statement. Not that I am afraid to tell the truth, but that the world, as I conceive, is not ready to receive such truths yet. Ridicule will probably be heaped upon me; but when I consider that it is the ignorant only who use that weapon, perhaps I can afford to stand up and say, “Let the storm come.” All who know me can say whether I have been truthful from my youth up, yea or nay; and the strongest language that I can use is to say that the following statement is strictly and entirely true.

In the summer of 1848, I had concluded, from the best judgment that I could bring to my aid, that it was best for my family to remove somewhere among the wilds of the West. Accordingly I took a tour of observation, and finding some land in Michigan, that suited me better than any other, belonging to a gentleman living in Rochester, I stopped on my return, in order, if possible, to negotiate for it. I stayed with my friend and relative, Isaac Post, and while there he told me of certain sounds being heard in the city; and that they displayed intelligence, and purported to be made by “Spirits,” or persons invisible to us. I was really sceptical about any such things, but at his solicitation went to examine the matter. The persons with whom these sounds seemed to be, I had never seen nor heard of before, and my friend was careful not to tell them who I was, or where I had been. It seems that the question was asked whether there was any communication for me, and the direction from the sounds was, that three persons be magnetized; two of whom were present, and one was sent for from a neighboring family. I did not know the name of any person present, and I was also certain that none of them knew me. After the three persons were put in the clairvoyant state, one of them said, “We have got to go to Michigan.” They all agreed that they had got to go there, and on my account. They did seem all to go there, and began to describe places and things which I had seen, and at length came to a piece of land which they said was the place they came to look at. They then described the land so accurately, which I had stopped in Rochester to buy, that I began to wonder who had told them. They all, with one accord, then said, “But he must not go there. His father says that he had better not go.” As they said this, there came a loud sound close to my chair, and I sat some distance from any other person. They spoke much of my father, and what his mind was, and at each time that same sound was heard. Up to this time I had not spoken a word, but found the big drops of perspiration starting from my face. I gathered courage, and thought I would dispel that illusion directly. I said, “As you assume to know my father, and what his mind is concerning me, perhaps you can tell his name.” They all seemed to look steadily for some time, then commenced and spoke slowly and deliberately these letters: “W-i-l-l-i-a-m W-i-l-l-e-t-s.” At each letter the loud sound that I first heard was again heard, and felt immediately under my feet. I never was so astonished in my life, and involuntarily said, “What does all this mean?” The sounds then said, by the alphabet being called over, that they had better be awakened, and the first loud sounds said, “I will talk with George, and tell him all about it.” The direction was for Mr. Post, myself, and a little girl, thirteen years old, to go by ourselves. And here I wish it distinctly understood, that all which I shall relate as obtained from those sounds, was in the presence only of my friends, Mr. and Mrs. Post, myself, and the little girl spoken of. As what follows all purported to be from my father, I will say that his name was William Willets, a member of the Society of Friends, widely known at Westbury, Long Island, where he lived until nearly sixty years of age, and subsequently at Skaneateles, Onondaga County, where he died in 1841. The communication by sounds then went on to say that it was my father who was present and talking with me; and three hours were consumed at the first interview.

In saying to me what his counsel was, it always assumed to counsel and advise, but never to dictate. He said that it was not best for us to go to Michigan, and gave various reasons, among which were that we should not enjoy ourselves in a new country, and that my health would not be competent for the task of clearing up new land; and that he foresaw, if we did go, that we should come back again, and would be less in number than when we went. I then asked what was best to do. The answer then was, “Come to Rochester.” I replied that I knew of no business that I could do in Rochester. The sounds said, “I will tell thee when thee comes.” I asked if I might know now. The answer was, “No, no business is needed until thee comes, and then I will tell thee.” The sounds then said, that after a time it would be best for me to buy some land. I asked where. The sounds then spelled out the name of a man whom no one present knew, and said that he owned fifty acres of land on such a street adjoining the city, and such a distance from the centre of the city; that he would sell any part. I asked the price that would be asked. The sounds were heard and counted by three of us,—one hundred and fifty times in succession,—to tell us the number of dollars per acre that would be asked. The sounds said that we had better go the next day and see if this was so, and said that we should not see the man until ten o’clock, though we might look for him as early as we pleased.

In the morning I looked in the Directory and there found the name spelled out to us, and went to his residence at seven o’clock, and was informed that he was gone to a distant part of the city, and would not be home until twelve o’clock. We then went to find him, and had some difficulty in doing so, but after talking with him five or six minutes, looked at the time, and it was seven minutes past ten. This person said that he owned fifty acres on the street told us by the sounds, and that he would sell any part. When I asked him the price, he showed me a map with the price of each lot marked, and taking the number of acres said by the sounds to be best to buy, and averaging the price, it was the price told us by the sounds, within six one-hundredths of a dollar per acre. I then went home to my family and pondered over these strange things. Many were the conflicts in my own mind, and I heard the cry from all quarters of “humbug,” “deception,” “fraud;” but I could not believe that I wanted to deceive myself. Three months I thought of these things deeply, and I could not go to Michigan. I concluded, if it was deception, it would do the world some good to find it out. The first of December, 1848, I moved from Waterloo to Rochester. A few days after getting here, the little girl spoken of came round to our house, and said that the “spirit” had directed her to come; for what purpose she did not know; we inquired what it was, and this was the communication: “I told thee if thee would come to Rochester, I would tell thee where thee could find employment: in four days from this time I will tell thee. In the meantime the anti-slavery folks are going to hold their fair; would it not be well for thee to help them?” No one was present at this time except my wife, the little girl, and myself. The four days went by, and again, without solicitation, and without thinking the time was up, the girl came again. The communication was, “Apply to William Wiley, Superintendent of the Auburn and Rochester Railroad, to-morrow at two o’clock, at his office, for a situation, and thee will have one before this week is out.” This was Thursday. I was a stranger to Mr. Wiley, and I called on Mr. Post, and told him the direction, and asked him if the next day he would go with me. That evening he, happening to be at the depot, inquired if Mr. Wiley was at home, and was told that he was in Boston, and, by a letter just received, would not be at home till Friday night. I was told by the sounds on Wednesday to apply on Thursday at two o’clock. Thursday at half-past one, instead of going to the railroad office, I went round where these sounds were heard, and said, “How is this?—I am told to apply to William Wiley, and he is in Boston.” The sounds said: “Go to his office now, he is there.” I called for Mr. Post and walked immediately there, and found Mr. Wiley in his office. He said that he had returned sooner than he expected to when he wrote the letter. Mr. Post said that I was a relative of his, and wished employment; and Mr. Wiley replied that they were all full, with abundant applications, and could give no encouragement whatever. We walked back, thinking deeply, and I went where the sounds were heard again. I inquired, “How is this?—Mr. Wiley has no place for me!” The answer was: “Thee will have a place on the cars, and will know it before the week is out.”

On Saturday night, at dark, I met Mr. Post, and he asked if I had heard anything from Mr. Wiley. I replied, “Not a word.” At eight o’clock on that same evening Mr. Post called at my house, and said that Mr. Wiley had just been at his store, and said that he had a place for me, and wished me to call at his office on Monday morning. As Mr. Wiley did not tell what place I was to fill, I again asked the sounds what it was; and they said it was to go as baggage-master between this place and Auburn. On Sunday morning I wrote to my friend James Truman, of Waterloo, stating that I should pass through that place on Monday following, in the capacity above stated, before I knew from Mr. Wiley what place he wanted me to fill; and he can probably testify to that fact. One month after I had been running on the cars, I learned that the person whose place I took had done things worthy of a dismissal, previous to my being directed to make application, which did not come to Mr. Wiley’s notice till the day on which I received the appointment. These things have only been known to a few friends; you and the world now have them. I have many communications, penned down at the time they were received, purporting to be from my father, all of the most elevating character, inciting me to goodness, purity and honesty of heart, and ever pointing to the endless progression of man. In conclusion, I may say that I have examined the matter attentively for one year and a half, and have had abundant opportunities to do so, and am prepared to say, although the sounds may cease to-day, and never be heard again, they have displayed a remarkable degree of intelligence, and were not made by any person visible to us.

(Signed)     George Willets.[7]

Before proceeding further I desire at this point to insert in this volume an interesting letter, addressed to the Rochester Daily Advertiser, by our friend Mr. John E. Robinson, also, like Mr. Willets, a well-known and distinguished member of the Society of Friends.

The controversy on the rapping and the general spiritual manifestations after the public investigation could no longer be suppressed. It became a subject which elicited much comment in the public prints; but in relation to which the Spiritualists had nothing to fear. Their opponents, generally, wrote without ever having examined it; and graded the vehemence of their opposition by the strength of their fealty to the teachings of their leaders. One of these acknowledged leaders was Chester Dewey, D.D., of the Rochester Collegiate Institute, who, without seeking to investigate the subject, claimed to recognize it as a fraud in its inception and wicked in its designs; and thus recorded his opinion in the public press at Rochester. His letters to the Rochester Daily Advertiser, at the time, drew forth the following rejoinder by Mr. Robinson, of that city, which was published in the columns of that paper:

“THE RAPPING MYSTERY.

“Messrs. Editors: There has been a vast deal of ink shed upon the above-named subject, and much of it to but little purpose, except to demonstrate the willingness of individuals to show up before the world the least attractive features of their intellectual and moral characters. Far the greater number of paragraphists who have essayed to enlighten the world on this subject, and protect this community in particular from humbug, as they are pleased to term it, have made up their various articles of exceedingly cheap material. Ridicule, the fool’s argument, has formed the chief staple of their lucubrations. Denunciation, unsparingly poured out, has been heaped upon the heads of those most immediately connected with this singular phenomenon, and an unwarrantable and unmanly meanness, which has led the writers, almost without exception, to traduce the character of the Fox family, and has taught us how easy it is for men to forget their manhood and stoop to a point at which they can lay claim to but little of the nobility of human nature.

“I, for one, can find an apology for the penny-a-liners who have poured their puerile effusions at the knocking mystery. They do but cater for a public sentiment and public ignorance in this matter; and their bread-and-butter demands of them that they shall not wave their inky wands beyond the line of that opinion. But there are some for whom we cannot make this apology. I notice in your paper of 23d inst. a communication over the signature of C. D. The writer of said article lays claim (and not a groundless one) to the reputation of a man of wisdom. He is known among us as the expounder of laws natural and divine. His picture, so he tells us, hangs from the walls of the Athenæum, and looks down complacently upon its visitors as a teacher of the exact and occult sciences. The community in which he lives has nourished him during a long lapse of years, has accredited to him the prerogatives he has claimed, and has looked up to him, as one clothed with authority, to enlighten it upon all abstruse subjects. And yet, with the knowledge (which he must possess) that if anything be spoken of it must be spoken of understandingly,—that a man in his position utterly disregards the safety of his reputation who rushes to record an opinion without ascertaining that it is tenable, and that he has facts to sustain him; this self-same C. D., this Solon of the closet and pulpit, without a particle of evidence, in the absence of all personal observation, rushes in the hot haste of blind folly to the press, and tells the “good people” that the phenomenon in question is no phenomenon at all, but only a sheer humbug! a miserable delusion, cunningly contrived, but fit only to deceive such fanatical fools as have been chasing shadows from time immemorial, down to the advent of Mormonism.

“This word humbug is in great request. It is of modern origin, and the moderns are making the most of it. Everything new, while going through its incipient stage, is denominated ‘humbug.’ Everything and everybody a whit in advance of the age or its intelligence is looked at askance by the gaping crowd, and ‘humbug’ is the ready watchword. The community’s acknowledged leaders, and whose antics, at times, should have taught them that

are asked by their too credulous disciples to give them their opinion on some new and startling development in physics or man’s intellectual nature, and immediately these ‘learned Thebans,’ scorning the patient toil and honest purpose of the true student, turn their blear eyes upon the interrogations and shout Humbug! Humbug!

“In such cases their visual organs are of about as much service to them as the sun is to that burrowing animal which shuns the light of day. When will men, even whose gray hairs seem to ask us to expect better things of them, learn that bareface assertion weighs not as evidence with those who choose to think for themselves? Ours is a thinking age, and requires something more than the bold say so of any man to convince people that a thing may or may not be. We live at a period, too, and in the midst of minds which have learned that much that was received as unadulterated truth by the past, upon which the dust of buried centuries had gathered and seemed to hallow, has been proved erroneous by the light of advancing knowledge and the searching analysis of science. And who shall say where that knowledge is to stop? Is there to be no new unfolding of man’s intellectual powers? Is he ever to remain in the comparative ignorance he now is in respecting the relations which he, while here in this life, sustains to the spiritual world? Are the laws of his being and its attributes as yet entirely revealed to him? Is the physical of this world of so much importance that the astounding developments of this and the coming cycles of time are to be confined entirely to that, to the exclusion of man’s higher and more ethereal nature? These questions I leave your correspondent C. D. and his coadjutor J. W. H. to answer for themselves in their more reflective hours.

“C. D. says ‘the wary and eagle-eyed are kept out, and excluded from opportunity of investigation.’ Now, to be perfectly plain, this remark borders very much upon misrepresentation. It is not so. And if the gentleman would have ‘the good people’ understand that he is thus denied, I would undeceive them. Mr. Dewey has on more than one occasion been urged by those who would have afforded him every opportunity for investigation, to test the reality of the said phenomena. He could have had, and may have, associated with him in such investigation, men whom he or others may select, as his equals in every respect, to aid him; and before he has the temerity to repeat his uttered cry of humbug, and brand again, with most unchristian readiness, as deceivers, individuals whom he does not know, I call upon him to avail himself of the senses which God has given him for that purpose. He need feel no repugnance to visiting so obscure a locality as Troup Street. His equals (to say the least) have been there before him, and he would not have to tarry long in that region to meet with visitors who possess more intelligence, a wider charity, greater modesty, and a better purpose than he has manifested in his communications.

“A man’s practice is the touchstone of his faith, and I want no better evidence of the practical infidelity of any one, than to know that while he preaches for so much the square yard the doctrine of an after-life, he scouts anything which comes to us in the shape of tangible evidence of the soul’s immortality.

“Mr. Dewey says he will be ‘glad to see the truth advanced, lead where it may.’ In this I join him, and such motive must be my apology for trespassing upon your columns and patience.

“Respectfully yours,
“John E. Robinson.
“Rochester, February, 25, 1850.”

CHAPTER IX.

ALBANY AND TROY. 1850.

Excursion to Albany—Delavan House and Van Vechten Hall—Rev. Dr. Staats and the Judges—High Class of Minds Interested—President Eliphalet Nott—Pecuniary Arrangements—Excursion to Troy—Trojan Ladies—Mob Attempts on Life of Margaretta.

EXCURSION TO ALBANY.

We were directed (by the spirits) to “go forth and let the truth be known.” We had already passed through a terrible experience, and feared to make another such hazardous attempt; but the fiat had gone forth. We had debated the question a long time before we could consent to subject ourselves to another public contest. However, there was no alternative. We were compelled to “do our duty,” regardless of consequences, so far as it was in our power.

It was the first of April, 1850, when the Rev. R. P. Ambler and Mr. D. F. Coman, of Springfield, Mass., called on us for an evening séance. They came with an introduction from our friend Apollus Munn. Mr. Ambler was a Universalist minister, had preached in Albany, and was much respected there. They were greatly astonished by the evidence they received during the séance; and it proved to them clearly that their communications were received from spirits, or from some power entirely beyond our knowledge. Various circumstances point to the conclusion that these arrangements had been planned and directed for us by our spirit friends and guides.

We had been informed by the spirits that we should have a proper person to lecture for us; and were told that we should first go to Albany, engage a public hall, and allow the spirit-rapping to be heard by the audience. We did not, however, dare to attempt such a venture until we had made another experiment in our own city (Rochester). Only five months previously we had left Corinthian Hall, triumphantly indeed, but amid a howling mob. But they had been kept at bay and overpowered by superior forces, and we tried by the public, and not found guilty.

Once again we engaged a hall, at our own expense, and gave notice to the public that Mr. Ambler would deliver a lecture, and “the three sisters would accompany him on the platform.” The hall was crowded. The lecturer was eloquent and the audience pleased. The rappings were profuse. Public opinion had changed since the first lectures on the subject. Friends rushed to the platform to congratulate us on our triumphant success.

Many good wishes for our happiness and prosperity in our great enterprise were showered upon us; and we little dreamed that we had given our last public entertainment to our true and tried friends in Rochester. We did not even imagine that we were then leaving our dear old home for a new one in a new city, when the proper time should arrive. There was much and arduous consultation respecting the mode in which we should go forth into the world on the travels and toils that lay before us.

Our father had been interrupted in all his business arrangements, and could not possibly leave home, and Calvin, who had grown up in our family (a son and brother by adoption), was the best personal protector we could have. We left with our father’s sympathy and blessing.

We reached Albany the last of April, 1850. We engaged a suite of rooms in the Delavan House. Mr. Ambler was our lecturer, and Mr. Coman our business man—mother, Maggie, Katie, and myself, with Calvin as our escort. We engaged Van Vechten Hall. It had been previously announced through the papers that “the Fox Family” would appear at the hall, with Mr. Ambler, who would deliver a course of lectures, preparatory to our giving séances at the Delavan House.

Our career was now commenced. After all our resolving not to go any more before the public, we had been forced to let the world know what was revealed to us, and what was meant not for us alone.

Our rooms were thronged by the élite of Albany and of many other places adjacent. Our success was great, as the spirits had promised. We received both public and private parties from all parts of the country.

The spirits had performed their parts admirably for nearly two weeks, when I received a note from the editor of the Albany Morning Express.

(It will be remembered that at one of the Rochester investigations, a Second Advent minister had deemed it his duty to rise in public and express his idea that all this was of diabolic origin, and that we, the mediums, ought to be sent to prison. But the good old days of Cotton Mather and of the hangings at Salem were past, and after the conscientious but narrow bigot resumed his seat, no further notice was taken of the good man or of his suggestion. I may remark in passing, that the spirits who extorted from Mr. MacNaughton the Lord’s Prayer, which he had been taught in childhood to repeat at the knees of his “puir auld mither,” and had converted him to Spiritualism and a belief in the immortality of the soul, would seem to have been strange emissaries of Satan.)

At Albany we met a somewhat similar experience, both in the attempt made against us and in its results. A certain respectable minister, I do not know of what denomination, named Dr. Staats, was so far exercised in his mind by the reports of our meetings at the Delavan House, that he applied to the courts for a warrant for our arrest. I had the surprise of receiving the following note from the highly respected editor of the Morning Express:

“Albany Morning Express,
“May 13, 1850.

“Mrs. Fish: I have just this moment been called upon by the judges of the court before whom Rev. Dr. Staats would have brought you, had he been able so to do, who say they would be pleased to call on you this afternoon, at four o’clock, as they will then be at leisure. Can you accommodate them? I think it will be a grand move to have them witness the demonstrations. I would call, but am so busy this morning that even —— is out of my mind.

“In great haste,
“Yours respectfully,
“Jacob C. Cuyler.”

At precisely the appointed time the expected party of judges and lawyers arrived, numbering seventeen, all men of distinction. They were just and honest men, with open, judicial minds, seeking only the truth, and not the gratification of hostile prejudices. The proprietor of the house, Mr. Rozelle, was ill in bed; but he rose, dressed himself, and went down to meet the judicial party before they left his house. They said to him, when they left, “It will take wiser judges than we are to pronounce against them.”

The judges came frequently to see us afterward; and thus, through the Rev. Dr. Staats’s efforts to injure us, and have us arrested for “blasphemy against the holy scriptures,” a strong army was raised up for our protection. And this result we found was invariably the case through all our subsequent public career.

Wherever and whenever an attempt was made to show to the world that it was not true, however hostile and powerful the men engaged against us, we always—without a single exception—were brought through our difficulties in triumph, although, at times, we could not see how we were to escape the entanglements often thrown around us. We placed ourselves wholly under the directions of our spirit friends, and invariably came out with safety and honor, as they told us we should, if we but acted our parts faithfully.

Before the time arrived for us to leave Albany, we had been deluged with letters, by reputable parties, from all parts of the country, urging us to come and afford them an opportunity for themselves to investigate. Of course we could not comply with all these requests, as we could at the time only give attention to the principal cities.

During our stay in Albany our rooms were thronged with anxious investigators from all the neighboring towns and cities. We usually met the higher order of intelligences; as the conceited nabob and the equally conceited representative of the (morally) lower classes, were seldom attracted to subjects beyond their comprehension and above their sympathies.

My books of registration plainly show the class of minds which became interested in Spiritualism at that early day. I shall preserve them. They should be placed in some historical library, so that generations yet to come may realize the fact that Spiritualism was first sought after by the most enlightened and progressive minds of the nineteenth century.

I will not here record the names of my attached friends and constant visitors (with but two exceptions) of that most interesting period—two remarkable for their advanced years as well as for their high personal distinction, the Rev. Dr. Eliphalet Nott, President of Union College, Schenectady, and Mr. Edward C. Delavan, the owner (though not the proprietor) of the house at which we resided. The latter was nearly, if not quite, an octogenarian, and certainly cut a somewhat remarkable figure by the side of his young wife and their baby of ten months. On one occasion he was so delighted with some communication, addressed to him by his pet name of childhood, from his long-departed mother, that he was overflowing in his expressions of gratitude, and he forced into my hand a twenty-dollar gold piece. The not less venerable Dr. Nott once laid his hand on my head and said, “My child, I am not far from the time when I shall go to the world of spirits, of which you reveal and prove so much; and you must, naturally, long survive me in the present life; but if it shall be in my power I will strive to be one of your guardian spirits.”

This is the proper place to state the pecuniary arrangement dictated to us by our spirit friends for the support and prosecution of this mission to the world, which they had imposed upon us. Our public meetings were held in Van Vechten Hall, then the principal one in Albany. Our suite of rooms in the Delavan was the best in the house. Of course our expenses were very heavy; often amounting to $150 a week. Our regular charge was $1 each person, and, for a private séance of an hour, $5 for two or more persons. These figures had been prescribed to us. We never heard of any complaints of dissatisfaction, on the part of our visitors, with the evidences which they used to receive; and no language would suffice to tell of the hundreds of assurances of delight and gratitude, which were the better part of our compensation for the time thus absorbed, and for the fatigue and exhaustion of these labors under the direction of our friends in the spirit life.

EXCURSION TO TROY.

It is with regret that I dismiss so briefly, as has been done above, our experiences in Albany, where we began in May, 1850, what may be called the first stage of the fulfilment of our mission. I might fill this volume with my reminiscences and notes of them.

It was on May 24, 1850, that we left Albany and went to Troy. Many Trojans had visited our rooms in Albany, and urged us to spend a few days in Troy before going to New York. We consented to do so, much against our own wishes, as we had made our arrangements to go from Albany direct to New York. We were kindly received at the Troy House, and our rooms were thronged as elsewhere. Our success was gratifying to us all. But we were not long permitted to enjoy such peace and prosperity. A murmur arose among the “women,” whose conduct toward us in Troy was cruel and unchristianlike. They insinuated that if the mediums were men their husbands would not become so deeply enlisted in this unpopular, and, seemingly, weird subject. They adopted the absurd theory of toe and knee rapping. One lady especially distinguished herself by her intellectual antics in this her line of procedure. (Her husband was much younger than herself, handsome and prosperous.) She became violent in her denunciations. I well knew that, with the aid of Heaven, we could easily prove such accusations false. We met our combatants on their own premises. A committee of “investigators” was gotten up, composed of three ladies and two ministers. We submitted to all of their suggestive whims, and came off, as usual, triumphant. The course and result of this committee of investigation induced many persons to visit our rooms who had never before been interested in the subject. We made many life friends in Troy, and left promising to visit them soon again (which we did a few months later).

The evening before we left we were honored by a band of music in front of the Troy House. The proprietor, Mr. Coleman, and General Viele came to our rooms and announced the fact, saying, “Ladies, this is expressly for you.” He accompanied us to the balcony, where, with uncovered heads, the crowd saluted us with their hearty applause of approbation. The following evening we took the night boat from Albany, and were soon on the beautiful Hudson wending our way to the city of New York.

But as this chapter is so short, I may as well, at the expense of chronology in my narrative, anticipate a few months, to introduce here a serious adventure which befell my young child-sister Margaretta, or Maggie, at this same city of Troy, or rather West Troy, in the following month of November, 1850. It is a curious illustration of the desperate bitterness of feeling which arose in some portions of the more ignorant classes in some of our American communities.