Lefar, Charleston, S. C. I am deucedly ignorant about this coming back—dead railroad—business. It’s new business to me, as I suppose it will be to some of you when you travel this way. Say I will do the best I can to communicate with my friends, if they will give me an opportunity. I desire Mr. Lefar to send my letter to my family when he receives it—he knows where they are—and then report to this office.
“Good night, afternoon or morning, I don’t know which. I walked out at Petersburg.”
Here is a message from George W. Gage, with some of the questions which he answered:
“[How do you like your new home?] First rate. I likes—heigho!—I likes to come here, for they clears all the truck away before you get round, and fix up so you can talk right off. [Wasn’t you a medium?] No, Sir; I wasn’t afraid, though; nor my mother ain’t, either. Oh, I knew about it; I knew before I come to die, about it. My mother told me about it. I knew I’d be a woman when I come here, too. [Did you?] Yes, sir; my mother told me, and said I musn’t be afraid. Oh, I don’t likes that, but I likes to come.
“I forgot, Sir; my mother’s deaf, and always had to holler. That gentleman says folks ain’t deaf here.”
The observable points are first that he seems to have excused his “hollering” by the habits consequent upon his mother’s deafness. The “hollering” consisted of unusually heavy thumping, I suppose. But the second point is of far greater interest. George intimates that he has changed his “sect,” and become a woman! For this important alteration his good mother had prepared his mind. This style of thing will not seem so strange if we consider that some men become old women before they die!
Here is another case of feminification and restitution combined. Hans Von Vleet has become a vrow—what you may call a female Dutchman! It has always been claimed that women are purer and better than men; and accordingly we see that as soon as Hans became a woman he insisted on his widow’s returning to a Jew two thousand dollars that naughty Hans had “Christianed” the poor Hebrew out of. But let Hans tell his own story:
“I was Hans Von Vleet ven I vas here. I vas Von Vleet here; I is one vrow now. I is one vrow ven I comes back; I vas no vrow ven I vas here (alluding to the fact that he was temporarily occupying the form of our medium.) I wish you to know that I first live in Harlem, State of New York. Ven I vos here, I take something I had no right to take, something that no belongs to me. I takes something; I takes two thousand dollars that was no my own; that’s what I come back to say about. I first have some dealings with one Jew; that’s what you call him. He likes to Jew me, and I likes to Christian him. I belongs to the Dutch Reform Church. (Do you think you were a good member?) Vell, I vas. I believes in the creed; I takes the sacrament; I lives up to it outside. I no lives up to it inside, I suppose. (How do you find yourself now, Hans?) Vell, I finds myself—vell, I don’t know; I not feel very happy. Ven I comes to the spirit-land, I first meet that Jew’s brother, and he tells me, ‘Hans, you mus go back and makes some right with my brother.’ So I comes here.
“I vants my vrow, what I left in Harlem, to takes that two tousand dollars and gives it back to that Jew’s vrow. That’s what I came for to-day, Sir. (Has your vrow got it?) Vell, my vrow has got it in a tin box. Ven I first go, I takes the money, I gives it to my vrow, and she takes care of it. Now I vants my vrow to give that two tousand dollars to that Jew’s vrow.
“(How do you spell your name?) The vrow knows how to spell. (Hans Von Vleet.) There’s a something you cross in it. The vrow spells the rest. Ah, that’s wrong; you makes a blunder. Its V. not F. That’s like all vrows. (Do all vrows make blunders?) Vell, I don’t know; all do sometimes, I suppose. (Didn’t you like vrows here?) Oh, vell, I likes ‘em sometimes. I likes mine own vrow. I not likes to be a vrow myself. (Don’t the clothes fit?) Ah, vell, I suppose they fits, but I not likes to wear what not becomes me.”
It is scarcely necessary to make comments on such horrible nonsense as this. I may recur to the subject in future, should it appear expedient. At present I must drop the subject of female men.
At the head of the “Message Department” is a standing advertisement, which reads as follows:
“Our free circles are held at No. 158 Washington street, Room No. 4 (up stairs,) on Monday, Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. The circle-room will be open for visitors at two o’clock; services commence at precisely three o’clock, after which time no one will be admitted. Donations solicited.”
On the days and at the hour mentioned in the above advertisement, quite an audience assembles to hear the messages Mrs. C. may have to deliver. If a stranger present should request a message from one of his spirit-friends, he would be told that a large number of spirits were seeking to communicate through that “instrument,” and each must await his turn! Having read obituary notices in the files of old newspapers, and the published list of those recently killed in battle, the medium has data for any number of “messages.” She talks in the style that she imagines the person whom she attempts to personate would use, being one of the doctrines of spiritualism that a person’s character and feelings are not changed by death. To make the humbug more complete, she narrates imaginary incidents, asserting them to have occurred in the earth-experience of the spirit who purports to have possession of her at the same time she is speaking. Mediums in various parts of the country furnish her with the names of and facts relative to different deceased people of their acquaintance, and those names and facts are used by her in supplying the “Message Department” of the “Banner of Light.”
If the assumed “mediumship” of this woman was not an imposture, some of the many people who have visited her for the purpose of getting communications from their spirit-friends would have been gratified. In most of the “messages” published in the Banner, the spirits purporting to give them, express a great desire to have their mortal friends receive them; but those mortals who seek to obtain through Mrs. Conant satisfactory messages from their spirit-friends, are not gratified—the medium not being posted. The mediums are as much opposed to “new tests” as a non-committal politician.
Time and again have leading spiritualists, in various parts of the country, indorsed as “spiritual manifestations,” what was subsequently proved to be an imposture.
Several years ago, a man by the name of Paine created a great sensation in Worcester, Mass., by causing a table to move “without contact,” he claiming that it was done by spirits through his “mediumship.” He subsequently came to New York, and exhibited the “manifestation” at the house of a spiritualist—where he boarded—in the upper part of the city. A great many spiritualists and not a few “skeptics” went to see his performance. Paine was a very soft-spoken, “good sort of a fellow,” and appeared to be quite sincere in his claims to “mediumship.” He received no fee from those who witnessed his exhibition; and that fact, in connection with others, tended to disarm people of suspicion. His séances were held in the evening, and each visitor was received by him at the door, and immediately conducted to a seat next the wall of the room.
The visitors all in and seated, Mr. Paine took a seat with the rest in the “circle.” In the middle of the room a small table had previously been placed, and the gas had been turned partly off, leaving just enough light to make objects look ghostly.
In order to get “harmonized,” singing was indulged in for a short time by members of the “circle.” Soon a number of raps would be heard in the direction of the table, and one side of that piece of furniture would be seen to rise about an inch from the floor. Some very naturally wanted to rush to the table and investigate the matter more closely, but Paine forbade that—the necessary “conditions” must be observed, he said, or there would be no further manifestation of spirit-power. As there was no one nearer to the table than six or eight feet, the fact of its moving, very naturally astonished the skeptics present. Several “seeing mediums” who attended Mr. Paine’s séances, were able to see the spirits—so they declared—who moved the table. One was described as a “big Injun,” who cut various capers, and appeared to be much delighted with the turn of affairs. Believers were wonderfully well-pleased to know that at last a medium was “developed” through whom the inhabitants of another world could manifest their