AMONG THE SPIRITS. My First Nights Experience. (Original.)

Te Aroha News, Volume V, Issue 223, 8 October 1887, Page 5

AMONG THE SPIRITS. My First Nights Experience. (Original.)

*' Well, Jack, you will ha.ye it, I suppose, so I may at once give in— it will save Lime — "but, remember, I am only about to toll you what took place as I paw and heard it. I shall put forward no theory as to the cause of the phenomena. " Jack Brown and myself were born near the same place, and we aro within a few days of the same age. We had been play, mates, schoolmates, and, in short, regular chums until Jack took hie departure for the West Indies, some 18 years ago, and for all those years I had seen nothing of him until a day or two ago. Jack was not long in England before he hunted me up, and he has been staying with me now for nearly a week. We have talked on all kinds of subjects, Jack being, as a rule, the greater talker, while I do most of the listening and smoke the- most cigars. On this particular evening we are sitting in the Miinmer-house in my garden, looking through the open window upon the broad river, and lazily watching the boat races which some amateur boatmen are indulging in. It's little, however, I see of the races — at least, it's little I heed them, for Brown has ,been telling me of a wonderful night he spent, about two yeai? ago, at a hut in the interior of one of the smaller West Indian Islands. Thee\ents, as. related by Jack, certainly s-fcrange, and as he assiuob nic he has been a total abstainer from intoxicating liquors during his residence at the Islands, I must give him credit for being sobes. When I told him I believed his tale and that I was satisfied he had simply related facts wtweh actually occurred he was quite thunderstruck, and told me it was only because he had, during the past, been such thorough chums that ho broke a resolution he had made to try and forget the circumstance by never mentioning it again. He had told "his tale to several people, his last confidant being an old doctor who occupied the next state room to his on board the steamer which had lately brought him home, and he knew the old gentleman had made the stewart fossick out a key to lit his cabin door, and had henceforth locked that door at night as if te guard himself from the attacks of a madman. I think my old friend felt a positive relief when he heard me say I belief ed his tale, though certainly it was strange enough. Th6re was an Obei woman in it, an old nigger with a red stick, a mysterious baby, and other horrible things, llowevei , lam not going to give you Jack'e experience, but my own. Our coi. versa tion turned on matters mysterious and inexplicable, and if Jack had shown his astonishment when I first said I could believe his tale of a night in a West Indian interior, he was ten times more astonished when he discovered that I was not only interested in matters relating to psychology, but was a firm believer in the reality of psychic manifestation. "By Jove, Jfed," said my friend, " I believe you've foi&aken the faith of your fathers and turned spiritualist !" " I have done nothing of the sort," I replied. "I am simply an investigator into the apparent mysteries of what is commonly called spiritualistic phenomena, but is known among scientitic men as psychism or psychic force. I admit the phenomena. I submit, however, we have as yet no conclusive proof of the cause. It was under peculiar circumstances I first had an opportunity a few years? back of witnessing the phenomena, and since then I confess I have taken great interest in the subject. From the moment I admit this Jack is determined I shall tell him all about this "first opportunit}'." I see I cannot get out of it, &o w ith the best grace possible I come out with the words written above, and give him an account of my first night's expedience of the subject matter. You remember Tom Birch, at old Cockayne's, the boy we used to call Corky ; he with theshoit corkscrew curls all over his head? Well, Tom Birch turned out a Civil engineer, and made tho profession pay. He went to India, and while there mixed up in some great irrigation works and big contracts and came back with a small pot of money. He married the only daughter of old Paul Lyons, who lived a couple of miles from this, and when the old man died a few years ago the property, consisting of a very comfortable house and eleven hundred acres of land, passed to his son-in-law. Tom paid off the mortgage, and now is as comfortably established as he could wish, with a grand little wife and small family. About eighteen months ago I bought this place, and after twenty years' roaming about, settled down as a confirmed old bachelor. Somehow Tom Birch heard of me, for he sent a note asking me to come and see him. So pleased was Ito renew an old acquaintance that I rode up to his door the next morniug, receiving, on my arrival, as hearty a welcome as a man could wish for. We did a good hour's yarning before lunch, and then I was introduced to hi 3 wife, with whom I was charmed, and his two children. The house was large and comfortable — health and happiness was apparent in the blooming faces of my host and his family, and I came to the conclusion that Tom Birch, of Landslow — that's the name of his place — was a man to be envied. I enjoyed my lunch after my ride, but I noticed one peculiarity about it ; there was no meat served — fish, a few nick-knacks, and fruit. I remembered ifc was Friday, and I thought he might have married a Roman Catholic, and had himself joined that Church to keep his domestic affairs satisfactory. There was plenty of wine for mo, but my friends seemed to be temperance folk, for they drank nothing but water. During the afternoon we two men took a turn, first through the grounds adjoining ; the house, and then extending our walk. Tom showed me the various improvements he had made, and so time passed until near five o'clock. As we returned to the house I casually asked at what hour he dined. You would \ have been as astonished as I was had you seen him start and look at me. H"e stopped short, and putting his hand on my shoulder, as I also halted, lie said : "By Jove, Ark ell, I forgot all about to-day being Friday, and you must be hungry." I submitted the necessity of occasionally recruiting exhausted nature, but I was puzzled about the Friday. Had he turned Roman Catholic, or what ? "No," he said, "I have not done that, but lam rather fixed. Come in here ; you can light another cigar aiid I'll be back directly. The fact is we do not dine on Fridays at Landslow — that is, not what you call dine— but excuse me, old man, I must go and consult my wife." He left me in the snug library ho had taken me to and vanished, while I can only say I was quite mysLificd at his sudden change of manner. My cigar was half burned out when ho returned, accompanied by his wife. Mrs Birch objected to my putting away my cigar. She euid she did not object to

the sm£ll, 'Although Tom was no smoker, birfc 'that under • the circumstances; an explanation was necessary. lat once started to assure her, etc., etc., but Tom stopped une, and an-oxplanation ensued. There were now several visitors in the drawing-reom who would stay for the eveniag, and I -.was informed that I, too, should be welcome,, but that I would have to make ■the beat oi .what the larder afforded, as, visitors notwithstanding, no dinner was, as amle, either -cooked or eaten at Landslow on Friday. S?he reason was this :— Tom Birch and his wife and the visitors in the other noora were believers in spiritualism, aud every Friday evening they had what they called a -"fitting" for "communicatioxju" They considered it advisable to eat little or nothing for souse hours previous to sitting, and their Friday's dinner consisted only of a little fruit; "but," said Mrs Birch, ** theie is no reason why you should fast, and I will see what I can find for you and leave Tom to explain another matter." Mrs Birch departed on her errand of mercy, and then Tom told me what the ofcher matter was. It was simply this :—: — He wanted my room rather than my company between the hours of eight and ten fhat evening, as of course I could not understand the matter which would engage their attention, and he trusted me to excuse him on the score of our very old friendship. [ said very little. What on earth could I say ? Here was a man who had made his mark in a profession requiring, a brain, coolly and deliberately telling me that he believed in table-tilting, spirit-rapping, and all sorts ot queer things. What could I say or what could I think ? I cannot remember what I said, and I would not like to tell you what I thought. I can assure you I felt quite uncomfortable as we all sat down to dinner after I had been introduced to his friends. Various kinds of fruit were spread upon the table, but at one side of my hostess was a cold chicken and a ham with a bottle of claret for my especial benefit. I seated myself, as lequested, in front of these \iands, and had indeed made up my mind that if the rest were fools there was no reason why I should starve, when the parson spoke to me —yes, positively a parson —of all persons and things, and I may at once tell you he's a jolly fellow too — the best cricketer in the county, and a man who for two consecutive seasons pulled stroke in the 'Varsity Races ! Perhaps I had better first tell you who and what sort of people composed our company. Well, first there was Birch, with his pleasant face rather bronzed with his residence in India, and next a Miss Adams, a sharp-nosed spinster of uncertain ago. She wore spectacles, which were fixed with a piece of elastic round her head, I fancied because she had too little nose to hold them otherwise. Thirdly, tho Rev. George Beere, and a man of only thirty or five and thirty, with the build of a gladiator. Birch's daughter was next the Reverend : she was only a girl of eleven or twelve years of age, as lively aa a kitten and promising to be in the future a duplicate of her mother. Number five was Mr Me* Ara, an old Scotchman of at least sixty — a mass of shrewdness and wrinkles. He had been a famous lawyer in his day. Between Mr McAra and myself was our charming hostess, a woman who at nearly forty years of age looked about twenty-five. On the other side of me was a white- whiskered old gentleman, very bald and very pleasant. His wife was there too, and they were as pleasant a couple as you will often &cc. There name was Vaulette, and he was the senior partner of the firm of Vaulette and Sons, of the County town. The remaining guest was Miss Purkiss, a niece of the old Scotchman, and a very attractive young person ; age, I should say about 20. Well, the parson spoke to me. He said he understood Mr Birch had explained to me the reason of their meeting thateveniner, and he abked me if the subject of spiritualistic phenomena was one I had ever inquired into. I readily told him I had not ; and perhaps it was something in the look of the honest parson made me say I should be glad to do so, and asked if it were not possible for me to be present at their sitting. In a few minutes it was resolved that I should join them, with the proviso that if requested I should withdraw. They said it was possible I might disturb favourable conditions, and if they found it so they would ask me to retire. When one's at Rome, you know, one must do as the Romans, so I left my chicken and ham, and the claret too, contenting myself with some fruit. We had a pleasant hour or so in the drawing-room, Miss Purkiss proving herself a perfect artist at the piano, and Mis* Adams and the Rev. George about the best amateurs singers I have heard. Now came our visit to the sitting-room, into which we filed about eight o'clock. It was a room about 18 x 14, with ft plain oblong deal' table in the centre and a few chairs round it, a heavy, old-fashioned sideboard at one end, and a substantial looking piano at the other. Across one corner hung a pair of dark curtains, and behind these was a light, easy chair. Now Mark Birch locked the outer doors of the drawing-room, and then the door between the drawing-room and this room in which we were to sit, and certainly it seemed impossible for any outsider to enter without our knowledge or consent. As we were about to sit a difficulty arose as to places, or rather the place I was to occupy, as the rest were accustomed to their regular seats. It was only decided after certain mysterious workings with a wand or stick about four feet long, held on the hands of the old Scotchman and his niece. Our positions having been determined, we took our seats. — Birch at one end of the table, McAra at the other end, and the rest of us mixed up. Upon the uncovered table were a concertina, a bell, a candle, some sheets of writing paper, a box of matches and a pencil. On the sideboard was a lamp burning, but turned down low, and with out hands placed on the table in front of us we chatted for a while pleasantly enough. Suddenly Miss Purkiss started singing in a low, bub sweet voice the immortal Psalm of Life "Tell me not in Mournful Numberß." I shall never forget my astonishment when I heard the accompaniment played on the piano and no one at the instrument—at least no one visible to me. Yes, there was the piano shut up, and yet it was played apparently with no small amount of skill. I did wonder, and well I might, and as the parson noticed mv looks of astonishment he leaned back in his chair, and reaching forth his long arm, he opened the piano. More mystery ! I could see the keys depressed, but could see nothing of the fingers that pressed them. When Miss Purkiss had finished I was about to make some x'emarks, when, lo ! the piano glided from its place, and moved close up to my chair, and the invisible performer was busy again, this time playing some strange air, inexpressibly sweet, but altogether unknown to me. The last sound had died away and the piano had returned to its original position, when I noticed Birch's daughter was affected in a curious way — her right hand and arm trembling and jerking with considerable violence. Suddenly she clutched the pencil, made what I thought were a

few scratches 'on a sheet of paper, and then sank down in her chair with her head resting 1 on the table in front of her. Upon the paper she had written "Put out the light." The light was accordingly put out, and having each of us. grasped tho< hands cf our neighbour's right and left, we waited to see what phenomena would present itself next. In a few minutes hands- -warm and apparently living hands— were playing round us, patting our faces, ringing the boll, playing the concertina, and they at last left us after stealing Miss Adams' spectacles and old Mrs Vauletto's cap. This was too much, so Birch got up and re-lit the lamp, while he explained to me that they were occasionally bothered with spirits of a not over serious turn, and who evidently enjoyed a joke. I noticed now that my friend's little girl had vanished, but Birch pulled on one side the black curtains in the corner and showed me the child sitting there, apparentlh asleep. Meanwhile the gentlemen were laughing at Miss Adams and Mrs Vaulette, who were searching for the missing articles, but without finding a trace of them, when a voice from behind the table said, "Put your hands on the table," and no sooner was this done than down in our midst foil the missing cap, which Mrs Vaulette at once transferred to its proper place upon her head. "But whore aro my spectacles?" said Miss Adams, You will hardly believe it, Jack, but almost before the words were spoken, a hand, and only a hand, but a large sized man's hand, was seen by us all upon the centre of tho table. Where it came from I could not say. It was simply there, and it picked up the pencil and wrote on one of the sheets of paper ; and then — well, it was gone. It seemed to go through the table. It was only a few seconds in front of us altogether. The spinster darted at the piece of paper and secuied it ; but the absence of her spectacles prevented her reading, so she handed it to the rev. gentleman, who read it. It purported to be written by a spirit, calling himself " Bill Colo," and informed us that as Mr Askeli had taken such an interest in tho sitting, and had shown a serious desire to investigate the truths of spiritualism and had never before witnessed spiritualistic phenomena, the abstraction of Miss Adams' spectacles had been done for a "test." The glasses would be found on the table in the drawing room, and could now be recovered, after which, if wo would again sit round, we might expect a visit from a friend who wished to converse with us. I tell you, Brown, I was staggered, for it was physically impossible for any mortal hand to wiite all that was on that paper in the few seconds I had seen it done. I asked to be allowed to see if the spectacles were really there, and lighting a candle I unlocked the door ot the drawingroom and found them upon the tab]. 1 . You must understand that although I was wonder-struck, the others were not, but treated the matter as an ordinary affair. Well, we were requested by a a voice to turn down the lamp and again seat ourselves, which being done, there walked from behind the curtains, which hung across the corner of the room, a tall, thin, benevolent-looking old gentleman, who was immediately greeted by all present as an old friend, and by old Mrs Vaulette as " dear uncle Thomas." The old gentleman shook hands with us all round, and was not only glad to see his old friends, but especially welcomed me, and hoped I should profit by that evening's work. 1 could scarcely believe my eyes. How did he get into the room? The door I well know was locked. Tiue, the lamp was turned very low, but there was plenty of light for us to see each other, which we could do always, excepting, of coarse, the little girl in the chair behind the curtain. The stranger seemed to read my thoughts, and informed me that he had passed from earth life over forty years before, and was now a resident in spiiifc land. He assured me I was privileged in being introduced into such a circle as this, and recommended me to follow up honestly the investigation of spiritualism. He then gave us what I might call a sermon of about ten minutes or so, and I must say that for common sense, talk and moral teaching I had never heard the like. Thomas Kyte (that was his name, he said) left us after wishing us all good-night. He seemed to vanish through the curtains— I do not think ho pulled them on one side — and a voice said '' Sing, please, sing."' Miss Purkiss struck up a hymn, in which Miss Adams and the parson at once joined, and gradually the rest of us. Several times I noticed the black curtains shake and part, and once or twice I thought I saw a face, but at last, when the sound of the chant had died away, a young lady, whose face I could not but remember well, came forth timidly and with apparent caution. She seemed to lack confidence, and I think tried to speak, but was unable to do so, and gradually melted away through the floor, while I am bound to admit the cold perspiration oozed from every pore in my body. Then again, from behind the curtains, came the pleading voice " Sing again, please, sing ;" and this time Miss Adams led off with " Dream Faces." < Not only once, but three times she sang that song, and then again from behind the dark drapery glided the same form, the one I remembered so well. Her tall figure encased in a dark tight-fitting dress, with plain white collar and cuffs, her hair braided in the fashion of years gone by, and her eyes looking at nee, and at mo only, as they had loosed in the old times. How could I fail to recognise her ? In my astonishment, I might almost say fear, I should have fallen, for I had risen and approached her, had she not come to my assistance. She caught my extended hands, and the touch thrilled through me as with an electric shock, and I further recognised her voice as she said : " How pleased lam for you to see me, again. > How glad I am I succeeded in getting you here. I wish I could stay longer. Another time when we have more power." My arms were around her, her warm lips pressed my cheek, yet while I thought I held her safely she was gone. She faded, melted, I might say, from my arms, 1 could not tell whither. The parson held me, or I should have tried to rush behind the curtains from which we could now hear low moans proceeding., My old friend Birch unhooked the draperies and let them fall to the ground, exposing to our sight the chair in which was huddled up his little daughter, as it seemed, insensible. After Tom and his wife had examined the child, they left her to recover, and we were proceeding to open tho door in the drawingroom, when loud knockings were heard on \ the ceiling and the walls. By answers to questions put by that matter-of-fact lady, Miss Adams, we were informed that " the spirit" wished us to sit round the table once more in, the dark. Hardly was the lamp out when something iell upon the table, and a succession oi peculiar knocks were heard. « These last were interpreted as " Good night," and the lamp was immediately rej-lit, and we all row.

But what; was it fell on the table ? you will ask, for you oould never guess. It was my great coat, a very heavy one I rarely use, and which I had that morning left hanging here in my house two miles distant. You may not believe me. You may think, old fellow, I am mad, but I can I assure you I have told you nothing but 'what actually occurred. Ton minutes later we were all seated in my friend's dining-room enjoying a good supper, and when I left and rode home shortly after I found the great coat useful in shielding me from a very heavy rain, and I feltthankfulto theinvisiblemessenger who, had brought it for me. This was nearly all my first night's experience, but not quite, for as I took oft the wonderful great coat I found a letter in the pocket. Jack, I'll show you that letter by-and-bye, and let you compare it with her writing of twenty years aero. " Do you mean Agnes ?" " Yes, Agnes."