Legend
< An Apparition Seen by the Supreme Council of India (continued from page 10-244) >
course of time a ship from England arrived, bringing the news of the death of Mr. Shakespeare’s father; and likewise a cargo of “chimney-pot hats,” the first ever brought to India.*
He also says:—
In preparing a second edition of these “Apparitions, a Narrative of Facts” I gladly take the opportunity of thanking those numerous friends and strangers who have favoured me with communications in confirmation of the object which I have had in view by the publication of such a work—viz., to show that there is sufficient evidence for believing in the appearance, about the time of death, or shortly after, of deceased persons to those living on the earth.
One of the most remarkable instances of such an appearance, recorded in the following pages, will be found in the case of Captain German Wheatcroft, killed at the siege of Lucknow, on Saturday afternoon, Nov. 14ith, 1857, who appeared to Professor Nenner, his wife and a friend, at 9 p.m. of the same evening in London; and likewise to his own wife, then living with her mother at Cambridge, during the same night. A brother-clergyman of the Church of England writes to inform me that his wife was a very intimate friend of the Wheatcroft family; and that she and G. W. had been playmates from their youth. Disappointed of seeing him before he sailed for India, G. W. sent her a message on leaving England to say “he should contrive to see her in some way.” The remainder shall be stated in my informant’s own words.
“On the morning of the 15th of Nov., 1857, my wife said to me on waking, ‘My old friend German Wheatcroft is dead. About twelve or one o’clock in the night, I being wide awake, he came and stood there,’ pointing to a place about four feet from the bed, ‘and, looking at me with a pleasant but somewhat sad smile, said, “Good-bye!”’ There was nothing distressful in the face or figure of the spectre; and my wife does not recollect that her attention was directed to the dress or any other feature than the face, which appeared exactly as she had seen it often before. She noticed a paleness on the face; and though somewhat startled, she was not alarmed, nor did the apparition leave any unpleasing impression on her mind, save that of sorrow for what she fully believed to be the certainty of her friend’s death.”
Surely this threefold appearance of an officer who had been slain in India, very shortly after the moment of his death, to three different parties in England (the difference between London and Lucknow is about eight hours), in three different localities, neither of whom had any communication with each other, and one of the parties being an entire stranger to the other two, must be considered as placing the possibility of apparition phenomena beyond all reasonable doubt; and it is not saying too much, when we term those who refuse to believe such a cumulative amount of evidence as is here adduced, the victims of what has been justly termed “the superstition of incredulity.”
* The change from hoods to “hats,” as a head-covering for men in the open air, first occurred towards the close of the fifteenth century. An existing picture of Louis de Gonzagues, Duke of Nivernois, painted in 1587, represents him as wearing a head-covering not unlike what is called a stiff “billy-cock” hat of the present day; and this shape was seen in England as late as the middle of the seventeenth century, when the broad flapping hat with a feather of the Stuart period came into use. This was retained until early in the eighteenth century, when it gave way to the three-cornered hat which was worn by the head and under master of Westminster School when the author went there in 1828; and is still retained by state coachmen in the present day. The “chimney-pot” hat appears to have been introduced about the year 1780.
A Lady Killed by the Force of Imagination
On Tuesday last Dr. Fisher, at the New York Hospital, was called upon to render his professional services in what has proven to be a most remarkable case. At noon on the day named, a lady called at the hospital and avowed that she had swallowed a full set of teeth. She requested the physician to examine her for traces of them, and said she was Mrs. Cora S. Nourse, aged 47, an artist, who contributed sketches and articles to The Floral Cabinet. She resided at No. 36, West Ninth-street, with her two daughters, and on Tuesday last visited some relatives at Irving-ton, on the Hudson.
When making up her toilet on Tuesday morning, she missed her teeth, and being unable to find them about her room, she came to the conclusion that during her sleep she had swallowed them, as she remembered distinctly their presence in her mouth when retiring. A tickling sensation in her throat seemed to corroborate this belief. Dressing in haste she hurried off to a resident physician, who examined her for traces of the lost molars, but he failed to find them. He advised her to search for them again, assuring her that if she felt no distress in her stomach, it was not possible that they were located as she supposed.
She inquired as to the result in case her fears proved true, and was informed that if she had swallowed them the result would certainly prove fatal. Alarmed at this, the unfortunate lady hastened to her apartment, but being unable to find her teeth, immediately boarded a train for this city, and sought for relief at the New York Hospital. She was in a considerable state of trepidation, and appeared to suffer great mental anxiety. After a thorough examination Dr. Fisher declared that she could not possibly have swallowed the teeth, and suggested to her the possibility of having laid them somewhere out of the way. She then became convinced that such must have been the case, and started for her home in Ninth-street. She had scarcely left the hospital when she suddenly dropped in the street. Some gentlemen sprang to her assistance, and carried her back to the hospital insensible. Dr. Fisher was proceeding to examine her, when she turned on her side and expired. A female attendant was called to undress the poor lady, in order that an investigation as to the cause of her death might be made. As the attendant was removing the dead lady’s clothing, the missing teeth were discovered lodged in her undergarments. A postmortem examination revealed the curious fact that her death had resulted from no other cause than a complete exhaustion of her mental faculties, brought about by the force of imagination.
The last number of Psychic Studies...
The last number of Psychic Studies (Leipzig), the most intellectual Spiritualist publication on the Continent, contains some extraordinarily high eulogiums of The Spiritualist, for the “disinterested manner” in which for ten years it has advocated Spiritualism.
Editor's notes
Sources
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London Spiritualist, No. 387, January 23, 1880, pp. 39