As per your request, I enclose a letter from my father which is indorsed by my brother, confirming the statement I made to them of the apparition I had seen. I will add that my father is one of the oldest and most respected citizens of St. Louis, Mo., a retired merchant, whose winter residence is at——, Ills., a few miles out by rail. He is now seventy years of age, but a remarkably well-preserved gentleman in body and mind, and a very learned man as well. As I informed you, he is slow to believe things that reason cannot explain. My brother, who indorses the statement, has resided in Boston for twelve years, doing business on—— Street, as per letter-head above, and the last man in the world to take stock in statements without good proof. The others who were present (including my mother) are now dead, or were then so young as to now have but a dim remembrance of the matter.

You will note that my father refers to the "scratch," and it was this that puzzled all, even himself, and which we have never been able to account for, further than that in some mysterious way I had actually seen my sister nine years after death, and had particularly noticed and described to my parents and family this bright red scratch, and which, beyond all doubt in our minds, was unknown to a soul save my mother, who had accidentally caused it.

When I made my statement, all, of course, listened and were interested; but the matter would probably have passed with comments that it was a freak of memory had not I asked about the scratch, and the instant I mentioned it my mother was aroused as if she had received an electric shock, as she had kept it secret from all, and she alone was able to explain it. My mother was a sincere Christian lady, who was for twenty-five years superintendent of a large infant class in her church, the Southern Methodist, and a directress in many charitable institutions, and was highly educated. No lady at the time stood higher in the city of St. Louis, and she was, besides, a woman of rare good sense.

I mention these points to give you an insight into the character and standing of those whose testimony, in such a case, is necessary.

(Signed) F. G.

-----, Ills., January 20th, 1888.

Dear F.,—Yours of 16th inst. is received. In reply to your questions relating to your having seen our Annie, while at St. Joseph, Mo., I will state that I well remember the statement you made to family on your return home. I remember your stating how she looked in ordinary home dress, and particularly about the scratch (or red spot) on her face, which you could not account for, but which was fully explained by your mother. The spot was made while adjusting something about her head while in the casket, and covered with powder. All who heard you relate the phenomenal sight thought it was true. You well know how sceptical I am about things which reason cannot explain.

(Signed) H. G. (father).

I was present at the time and indorse the above.

(Signed) K. G. (brother).

St. Louis, Mo., April 16th, 1890.

In conversation with Mr. F. G., now forty-three years of age, he says that there was a very special sympathy between his mother, sister, and himself.

When he saw the apparition he was seated at a small table, about two feet in diameter, and had his left elbow on the table. The scratch which he saw was on the right side of his sister's nose, about three fourths of an inch long, and was a somewhat ragged mark. His home at the time of the incident was in St. Louis. His mother died within two weeks after the incident. His sister's face was hardly a foot away from his own. The sun was shining upon it through the open window. The figure disappeared like an instantaneous evaporation.

Mr. G. has had another experience, but of a somewhat different character. Last fall the impression persisted for some time of a lady friend of his, and he could not rid himself for some time of thoughts of her. He found afterwards that she died at the time of the curious persistence of his impression.

Mr. G. appears to be a first-class witness.

R. Hodgson.

September 14th, 1891.

On June 5th, 1887, a Sunday evening,[227] between eleven and twelve at night, being awake, my name was called three times. I answered twice, thinking it was my uncle, "Come in, Uncle George, I am awake," but the third time I recognised the voice as that of my mother, who had been dead sixteen years. I said, "Mamma!" She then came round a screen near my bedside with two children in her arms, and placed them in my arms and put the bedclothes over them and said, "Lucy, promise me to take care of them, for their mother is just dead." I said, "Yes, mamma." She repeated, "Promise me to take care of them." I replied, "Yes, I promise you"; and I added, "Oh, mamma, stay and speak to me, I am so wretched." She replied, "Not yet, my child," then she seemed to go round the screen again, and I remained, feeling the children to be still in my arms, and fell asleep. When I awoke there was nothing. Tuesday morning, June 7th, I received the news of my sister-in-law's death. She had given birth to a child three weeks before, which I did not know till after her death.

I was in bed, but not asleep, and the room was lighted by a gaslight in the street outside. I was out of health, and in anxiety about family troubles. My age was forty-two. I was quite alone. I mentioned the circumstance to my uncle the next morning. He thought I was sickening for brain fever. [I have had other experiences, but] only to the extent of having felt a hand laid on my head, and sometimes on my hands, at times of great trouble.

Lucy Dodson.

BRUSSELS, October 17th, 1891.

I have received replies from Miss Dodson to your inquiries.

(1) "Yes [I was] perfectly awake [at the time]."

(2) "Was she in anxiety about her sister-in-law?" "None whatever; I did not know a second baby had been born; in fact, had not the remotest idea of my sister-in-law's illness."

(3) "Did she think at the time that the words about the children's mother having just died referred to her sister-in-law? Had she two children?" "No, I was at a total loss to imagine whose children they were."

(4) "I was living in Albany Street, Regent's Park, at the time. My sister-in-law, as I heard afterwards, was confined at St. AndrÉ (near Bruges), and removed to Bruges three days prior to her death. (N.B.—She had two children including the new-born baby.)"

(5) "My late uncle only saw business connections, and having no relations or personal friends in London, save myself, would not have been likely to mention the occurrence to any one."

November 23rd, 1892.

I have just had an interesting conversation with Miss Dodson and her friend, Mrs. Grange.

Miss Dodson told me that she was not thinking of her brother or his wife at this time, as her mind was absorbed by certain other matters. But the brother was an object of special concern to her, as her mother on her deathbed, in 1871, had specially charged her—and she had promised—to take care of the other children, especially this brother, who was then five years old. He had married in April, 1885, and she had not seen him since, though she had heard of the birth of his first child, a little girl, in January, 1886; and she had never seen his wife nor heard of the birth of the second child.

She is as sure as she can be that she was awake at the time of the experience. She knew the time by a clock in the room and also a clock outside. She heard this latter strike twelve afterwards, and the apparition must have occurred after eleven, because lights were out in front of the public-house. The children seemed to be with her a long time; indeed, they seemed to be still with her when the clock struck twelve. The room was usually light enough to see things in—e.g. to get a glass of water, etc.—owing to the lamp in the street, but the distinctness with which the vision was seen is not explicable by the real light. The children were of ages corresponding to those of her sister-in-law's children, i.e. they seemed to be a little girl and a baby newly born; the sex was not distinguished. She was not at all alarmed.

She heard from Mrs. Grange by letter, and afterwards orally from her brother, that her sister-in-law died between eight and nine the same night.

She never had any experience of the kind, or any hallucination at all before: but since she has occasionally felt a hand on her head in trouble.

Mrs. Grange told me that she was with the sister-in-law about an hour and a half before her death. She left her about seven o'clock, without any particular alarm about her; though she was suffering from inflammation after childbirth, and Mrs. Grange did not quite like her look; still her state was not considered alarming by those who were attending on her. Then about 8.30 news came to Mrs. Grange in her own house that something had happened at the sister-in-law's. As it was only in the next street, Mrs. Grange put on her bonnet and went round to the house, and found she was dead. She then wrote and told Miss Dodson.

It will be remembered that on February 2nd, Michael Conley, a farmer living near Ionia, Chickasaw County, was found dead in an outhouse at the Jefferson house. He was carried to Coroner Hoffmann's morgue, where, after the inquest, his body was prepared for shipment to his late home. The old clothes which he wore were covered with filth from the place where he was found, and they were thrown outside the morgue on the ground.

His son came from Ionia, and took the corpse home. When he reached there, and one of the daughters was told that her father was dead, she fell into a swoon, in which she remained for several hours. When at last she was brought from the swoon, she said, "Where are father's old clothes? He has just appeared to me dressed in a white shirt, black clothes, and felt [mis-reported for satin] slippers, and told me that after leaving home he sewed a large roll of bills inside his grey shirt with a piece of my red dress, and the money is still there." In a short time she fell into another swoon, and when out of it demanded that somebody go to Dubuque and get the clothes. She was deathly sick, and is so yet.

The entire family considered it only a hallucination, but the physician advised them to get the clothes, as it might set her mind at rest. The son telephoned Coroner Hoffmann, asking if the clothes were still in his possession. He looked and found them in the backyard, although he had supposed they were thrown in the vault, as he had intended. He answered that he still had them, and on being told that the son would come to get them, they were wrapped in a bundle.

The young man arrived last Monday afternoon, and told Coroner Hoffmann what his sister had said. Mr. Hoffmann admitted that the lady had described the identical burial garb in which her father was clad, even to the slippers, although she never saw him after death, and none of the family had seen more than his face through the coffin lid. Curiosity being fully aroused, they took the grey shirt from the bundle, and within the bosom found a large roll of bills sewed with a piece of red cloth. The young man said his sister had a red dress exactly like it. The stitches were large and irregular, and looked to be those of a man. The son wrapped up the garments and took them home with him yesterday morning, filled with wonder at the supernatural revelation made to his sister, who is at present lingering between life and death.

In regard to the statements in the Dubuque Herald, about February 19th, about the Conley matter is more than true by my investigation. I laughed and did not believe in the matter when I first heard of it, until I satisfied myself by investigating and seeing what I did.

M. M. Hoffmann, County Coroner.

IONIA, July 20th, 1891.

Elizabeth Conley, the subject of so much comment in the various papers, was born in Chickasaw township, Chickasaw County, Iowa, in March, 1863. Her mother died the same year. Is of Irish parentage; brought up, and is, a Roman Catholic; has been keeping house for her father for ten years.

On the 1st day of February, 1891, her father went to Dubuque, Iowa, for medical treatment, and died on the 3rd of the same month very suddenly. His son was notified by telegraph the same day, and he and I started the next morning after the remains, which we found in charge of Coroner Hoffmann.

He had 9 dollars 75 cents, which he had taken from his pocket-book. I think it was about two days after our return she had the dream or vision. She claimed her father had appeared to her, and told her there was a sum of money in an inside pocket of his undershirt. Her brother started for Dubuque a few days afterwards, and found the clothes as we had left them, and in the pocket referred to found 30 dollars in currency. These are the facts of the matter as near as I can give them.

George Brown.

Dubuque, Iowa, August 15th, 1891.

Dear Mr. Hodgson,—I send you in another cover a detailed account of interview with the Conleys. I could not get the doctor.

I have had a long talk with Mr. Hoffmann about the Conley incident, and think you have all the facts—and they are facts.

The girl Lizzie Conley swooned. She saw her dead father; she heard from him of the money left in his old shirt; she returned to bodily consciousness; she described her father's burial dress, robe, shirt, and slippers exactly, though she had never seen them. She described the pocket in the shirt that had been left for days in the shed at the undertaker's. It was a ragged-edged piece of red cloth clumsily sewn, and in this pocket was found a roll of bill—35 dollars in amount—as taken out by Mr. Hoffmann in presence of Pat Conley, son of the deceased, and brother of the Lizzie Conley whose remarkable dream or vision is the subject of inquiry.

Amos Crum, Past. Univ. Ch.

...I herewith transcribe my questions addressed to Miss Elizabeth Conley, and her replies to the same concerning her alleged dream or vision....

On July 17th, about noon, I called at the Conley home near Ionia, Chickasaw County, Iowa, and inquired for Elizabeth Conley. She was present, and engaged in her domestic labours. When I stated the object of my call, she seemed quite reluctant for a moment to engage in conversation. Then she directed a lad who was present to leave the room. She said she would converse with me upon the matter pertaining to her father.

Q. What is your age? A. Twenty-eight.

Q. What is the state of your health? A. Not good since my father's death.

Q. What was the state of your health previous to his death? A. It was good. I was a healthy girl.

Q. Did you have dreams, visions, or swoons previous to your father's death? A. Why, I had dreams. Everybody has dreams.

Q. Have you ever made discoveries or received other information during your dreams or visions previous to your father's death? A. No.

Q. Had there been anything unusual in your dreams or visions previous to your father's death? A. No, not that I know of.

Q. Was your father in the habit of carrying considerable sums of money about his person? A. Not that I knew of.

Q. Did you know before his death of the pocket in the breast of the shirt worn by him to Dubuque? A. No.

Q. Did you wash or prepare that shirt for him to wear on his trip to Dubuque? A. No. It was a heavy woollen undershirt, and the pocket was stitched inside of the breast of it.

Q. Will you recite the circumstances connected with the recovery of money from clothing worn by your father at the time of his death? A. (after some hesitation) When they told me that father was dead I felt very sick and bad; I did not know anything. Then father came to me. He had on a white shirt and black clothes and slippers. When I came to, I told Pat [her brother] I had seen father. I asked him (Pat) if he had brought back father's old clothes. He said, "No," and asked me why I wanted them. I told him father said to me he had sewed a roll of bills inside of his grey shirt, in a pocket made of a piece of my old red dress. I went to sleep, and father came to me again. When I awoke I told Pat he must go and get the clothes.

Q. While in these swoons did you hear the ordinary conversations or noises in the house about you? A. No.

Q. Did you see your father's body after it was placed in its coffin? A. No; I did not see him after he left the house to go to Dubuque.

Q. Have you an education? A. No.

Q. Can you read and write? A. Oh yes, I can read and write; but I've not been to school much.

Q. Are you willing to write out what you have told me of this strange affair? A. Why, I've told you all I know about it.

She was averse to writing or to signing a written statement. During the conversation she was quite emotional, and manifested much effort to suppress her feelings. She is a little more than medium size, of Irish parentage, of Catholic faith, and shows by her conversation that her education is limited.

Her brother, Pat Conley, corroborates all that she has recited. He is a sincere and substantial man, and has no theory upon which to account for the strange facts that have come to his knowledge. In his presence Coroner Hoffmann, in Dubuque, found the shirt with its pocket of red cloth stitched on the inside with long, straggling, and awkward stitches, just as a dim-sighted old man or an awkward boy might sew it there. The pocket was about 7 [seven] inches deep, and in the pocket of that dirty old shirt that had lain in Hoffmann's back room was a roll of bills amounting to 35 dollars. When the shirt was found with the pocket, as described by his sister after her swoon, and the money as told her by the old man after his death, Pat Conley seemed dazed and overcome by the mystery. Hoffmann says the girl, after her swoon, described exactly the burial suit, shirt, coat or robe, and satin slippers in which the body was prepared for burial. She even described minutely the slippers, which were of a new pattern that had not been in the market here, and which the girl could never have seen a sample of; and she had not seen, and never saw, the body of her father after it was placed in the coffin, and if she had seen it she could not have seen his feet "in the nice black satin slippers" which she described....

Amos Crum, Pastor Univ. Church.

[Baron von Driesen begins by saying that he has never believed and does not believe in the supernatural, and that he is more inclined to attribute the apparition he saw to his "excited fancy" than to anything else. After these preliminary remarks he proceeds as follows:—]

I must tell you that my father-in-law, M. N. J. Ponomareff, died in the country. This did not happen at once, but after a long and painful illness, whose sharp phases had obliged my wife and myself to join him long before his death. I had not been on good terms with M. Ponomareff. Different circumstances, which are out of place in this narrative, had estranged us from each other, and these relations did not change until his death. He died very quietly, after having given his blessing to all his family, including myself. A liturgy for the rest of his soul was to be celebrated on the ninth day. I remember very well how I went to bed between one and two o'clock on the eve of that day, and how I read the Gospel before falling asleep. My wife was sleeping in the same room. It was perfectly quiet. I had just put out the candle when footsteps were heard in the adjacent room—a sound of slippers shuffling, I might say—which ceased before the door of our bedroom. I called out, "Who is there?" No answer. I struck one match, then another, and when after the stifling smell of the sulphur the fire had lighted up the room, I saw M. Ponomareff standing before the closed door. Yes, it was he, in his blue dressing-gown, lined with squirrel furs and only half-buttoned, so that I could see his white waistcoat and his black trousers. It was he undoubtedly. I was not frightened. They say that, as a rule, one is not frightened when seeing a ghost, as ghosts possess the quality of paralysing fear.

"What do you want?" I asked my father-in-law. M. Ponomareff made two steps forward, stopped before my bed, and said, "Basil Feodorovitch, I have acted wrongly towards you. Forgive me! Without this I do not feel at rest there." He was pointing to the ceiling with his left hand, whilst holding out his right to me. I seized this hand, which was long and cold, shook it, and answered, "Nicholas Ivanovitch, God is my witness that I have never had anything against you."

[The ghost of] my father-in-law bowed [or bent down], moved away, and went through the opposite door into the billiard-room, where he disappeared. I looked after him for a moment, crossed myself, put out the candle, and fell asleep with the sense of joy which a man who has done his duty must feel. The morning came. My wife's brothers, as well as our neighbours and the peasants, assembled, and the liturgy was celebrated by our confessor, the Rev. Father Basil. But when all was over, the same Father Basil led me aside, and said to me mysteriously, "Basil Feodorovitch, I have got something to say to you in private." My wife having come near us at this moment, the clergyman repeated his wish. I answered, "Father Basil, I have no secrets from my wife; please tell us what you wished to tell me alone."

Then Father Basil, who is living till now in the Koi parish of the district of Kashin [Gov. of Tver], said to me in a rather solemn voice, "This night at three o'clock Nicholas Ivanovitch [Ponomareff] appeared to me and begged of me to reconcile him to you."

(Signed) Baron Basil Driesen.

The Baroness von Driesen is now dead, so that her evidence cannot be obtained....

I also saw Baron Basil von Driesen himself, and spoke with him about M. Ponomareff's ghost. He stated to me that if he were going to die to-morrow, he should still be ready to swear to the fact of his having seen the apparition, or something to this effect. I asked him to obtain for me the clergyman's account, to whom I had already written before seeing Baron von Driesen (though not knowing him), but without receiving an answer—which is but natural, after all. Baron von Driesen kindly promised to procure for me the account in question, as it was then his intention to visit different estates in Central Russia, including the one that had belonged to M. Ponomareff.

Baron Nicholas von Driesen—Baron Basil's son—called on me a few days ago. He stated, with regard to the case in question, that it was necessary to see the clergyman in order to induce him to write an account of what had happened to him.

"KOI, July 23rd [August 4th], 1891.

"To the account I heard from Baron B. F. Driesen in the presence of his wife's brothers, MM. N. N., A. N., and I. N. Ponomareff, as to how M. Nicholas I. Ponomareff appeared to him in the night of November 29-30th, 1860, having died nine days before, and begged of the Baron to be reconciled to him, I may add that to me also did he appear at the same time and with the same request, which fact, before hearing the Baron's narrative, I communicated to all those present at the liturgy for the rest of the soul of the late M. N. I. Ponomareff.

"(Signed) Basil Bajenoff,
"Priest of Trinity Church, at Koi, District of Kashin,
Government of Tver."

June 24th, 1891.

A Talta, en FÉvrier, 1889, nous fÎmes la connaissance de M. P. et de sa femme, passant la soirÉe chez des amis communs qui avaient tenu À nous rÉunir. A cette Époque, M. P. souffrait dÉjÀ d'une phthisie assez avancÉe; il venait de perdre, À PÉtersbourg, son frÈre, atteint de la mÊme maladie. On pria ma soeur de faire un peu de musique, et elle choisit au hasard le PrÉlude de Mendelssohn. A mon Étonnement je vis M. P. que nous ne connaissions que de ce soir, aller, trÈs ÉmotionnÉ, prendre place auprÈs du piano, et suivre avec une espÈce d'anxiÉtÉ le jeu de ma soeur. Lorsqu'elle eut fini, il dit que pour quelques instants elle venait de faire ressusciter son frÈre, exÉcutant absolument de la mÊme maniÈre ce morceau, qu'il jouait frÉquemment. Depuis, en voyant ma soeur, il aimait particuliÈrement À causer avec elle. Je puis certifier ainsi qu'elle une conversation que nous eÛmes À une soirÉe, au mois de Mars. Nous parlions de la mort, chose frÉquente À Talta, toujours peuplÉe de malades:—"Savez-vous," disait-il À ma soeur, "il me semble toujours que mon esprit est trÈs proche du vÔtre; j'ai la certitude de vous avoir dÉjÀ connue; nous avons dans la rÉalitÉ une preuve que ce n'est pas en ce monde—ce sera que je vous aurais vue durant quelqu'autre vie prÉcÉdente" (il Était un peu spirite). "Ainsi donc, si je meurs avant vous, ce qui est bien probable, vu ma maladie, je reviendrai vers vous, si cela m'est possible, et je vous apparaÎtrai de faÇon À ne pas vous effrayer dÉsagrÉablement." Ma soeur lui rÉpondit, prenant la chose trÈs au sÉrieux, qu'elle lui rendrait la pareille si elle mourait la premiÈre, et j'Étais tÉmoin de cette promesse mutuelle.

NÉanmoins nous fÎmes À peine connaissance de maison; nous nous rencontrions parfois chez des amis communs, et nous le voyions souvent se promener sur le quai dans un paletot couleur noisette qui excitait notre hilaritÉ et qui nous resta dans la mÉmoire je ne sais plus pourquoi. Au mois de Mai, nous partions de Talta, et depuis nous eÛmes tant d'impressions diverses, nous vÎmes tant de monde, que jusqu'À l'hiver suivant nous oubliÂmes complÉtement M. P. et sa femme, qui reprÉsentaient pour nous des connaissances comme on en a par centaines dans la vie.

Nous Étions À PÉtersbourg. Le 11 Mars, c'Était un lundi de CarÊme en 1890, nous allÂmes au thÉÂtre voir une reprÉsentation de la troupe des Meiningner. Je crois qu'on donnait Le Marchand de Venise. Mlle. B. Était avec nous, venue de TsarskoÉ À cette occasion. La piÈce terminÉe, nous n'eÛmes que le temps de rentrer À la maison changer de toilette, aprÈs quoi nous accompagnÂmes Mlle. B. À la gare. Elle partait avec le dernier train, qui quitte pour TsarskoÉ SÉlo À 1 heure de la nuit. Nous l'installÂmes en wagon, et ne l'y laissÂmes qu'aprÈs la seconde cloche de dÉpart.

Notre domestique allait bien en avant de nous, afin de retrouver notre voiture, de maniÈre que, gagnant le perron, nous la trouvÂmes avancÉe qui nous attendait. Ma soeur s'assit la premiÈre; moi je la fis attendre, descendant plus doucement les marches de l'escalier; le domestique tenait la portiÈre du landau ouverte. Je montai À demi, sur le marchepied, et soudain je m'arrÊtai dans cette pose, tellement surprise que je ne compris plus ce qui m'arrivait. Il faisait sombre dans la voiture, et pourtant en face de ma soeur, la regardant, je vis dans un petit jour gris qu'on eÛt dit factice, s'Éclaircissant vers le point qui attachait le plus mes yeux, une figure À la silhouette ÉmoussÉe, diaphane, plutÔt qu'indÉcise. Cette vision dura un instant, pendant lequel, pourtant, mes yeux prirent connaissance des moindres dÉtails de ce visage, qui me sembla connu: des traits assez pointus, une raie un peu de cÔtÉ, un nez prononcÉ, un menton trÈs maigre À barbe rare et d'un blond foncÉ. Ce qui me frappe, lorsque j'y pense À prÉsent, c'est d'avoir vu les diffÉrentes couleurs, malgrÉ que la lueur grisÂtre, qui Éclairait À peine l'inconnu, eÛt ÉtÉ insuffisante pour les distinguer dans un cas normal. Il Était sans chapeau, et en mÊme temps dans un paletot comme on en porte au sud—de couleur plutÔt claire—noisette. Toute sa personne avait un cachet de grande fatigue et de maigreur.

Le domestique, trÈs ÉtonnÉ de ne pas me voir monter, arrÊtÉe ainsi sur le marchepied, crut que j'avais marchÉ dans ma robe et m'aida À m'asseoir, pendant que je demandais À ma soeur, en prenant place À cÔtÉ d'elle, si c'Était bien notre voiture? A tel point j'avais perdu la tÊte, ayant senti un vrai engourdissement de cerveau en voyant cet Étranger installÉ en face d'elle, je ne m'Étais pas rendu compte que, dans le cas d'une prÉsence rÉelle d'un semblable vis-À-vis, ni ma soeur, ni le valet de pied ne resteraient si calmement À l'envisager. Lorsque je fus assise, je ne vis plus rien, et je demandais À ma soeur:—"N'as-tu rien vu en face de toi?" "Rien du tout, et quelle idÉe as-tu eue de demander, en entrant dans la voiture, si c'Était bien la nÔtre?" rÉpondit-elle en riant. Alors, je lui racontais tout ce qui prÉcÉde, dÉcrivant minutieusement ma vision. "Quelle figure connue," disait-elle, "et À paletot noisette, cette raie de cÔtÉ, oÙ donc l'avons nous vue? Pourtant nul ne ressemble ici À ta description"; et nous nous creusions la tÊte sans rien trouver. RentrÉes À la maison, nous racontÂmes ce fait À notre mÈre; ma description la fit aussi souvenir vaguement d'un visage analogue. Le lendemain soir (12 Mars) un jeune homme de notre connaissance, M. M. S., vint nous voir. Je lui rÉpÉtais aussi l'incident qui nous Était arrivÉ. Nous en parlÂmes beaucoup, mais inutilement; je ne pouvais toujours pas appliquer le nom voulu À la personnalitÉ de ma vision, tout en me souvenant fort bien avoir vu un visage tout pareil parmi mes nombreuses connaissances; mais oÙ et À quelle Époque? Je ne me souvenais de rien, avec ma mauvaise mÉmoire qui me fait souvent dÉfaut, À ce sujet. Quelques jours plus tard, nous Étions chez la grandmÈre de M. M. S.:—"Savez-vous," nous dit-elle, "quelle triste nouvelle je viens de recevoir de Talta? M. P. vient de mourir, mais on ne me donne pas de dÉtails." Ma soeur et moi, nous nous regardÂmes. A ce nom, la figure pointue et le paletot noisette retrouvÈrent leur possesseur. Ma soeur reconnut en mÊme temps que moi, grÂce À ma description prÉcise. Lorsque M. M. S. entra, je le priai de chercher dans les vieux journaux la date exacte de cette mort. Le dÉcÈs Était marquÉ au 14 du mois de Mars, donc, deux jours aprÈs la vision que j'avais eue. J'Écrivis À Talta pour avoir des renseignements. On me rÉpondit qu'il gardait le lit depuis le 24 Novembre et qu'il avait ÉtÉ depuis dans un État de faiblesse extrÊme, mais le sommeil ne l'avait point quittÉ; il dormait si longtemps et si profondÉment, mÊme durant les derniÈres nuits de son existence, que cela faisait espÉrer une amÉlioration. Nous nous Étonnions de ce que j'aie vu M. P., malgrÉ sa promesse de se montrer À ma soeur. Mais je dois ajouter ici qu'avant le fait dÉcrit ci-dessus, j'avais ÉtÉ voyante un certain nombre de fois, mais cette vision est bien celle que j'ai distinguÉe le plus nettement, avec des dÉtails minutieux, et avec les teintes diverses du visage humain, et mÊme du vÊtement.

Comtesse EugÉnie Kapnist.
Comtesse Ina Kapnist.

I have much pleasure in certifying that the fact of Countess Kapnist's vision was mentioned, among others, to myself before the news of Mr. P.'s death came to Petersburg. I well remember seeing an announcement of his demise in the papers.

On the night of the 10th of November, 1861 (I do not know the exact hour), I was up in my bed watching, because there was a person not quite well in the next room. I heard a voice, which I recognised at once as familiar to me, and at first thought of my sister. It said, in the brightest and most cheerful tone, "I am here with you." I answered, looking and seeing nothing, "Who are you?" The voice said, "You mustn't know yet." I heard nothing more, and saw nothing, and am certain that the door was not opened or shut. I was not in the least frightened, and felt convinced that it was Lucy's [Miss Lucy Gambier Parry's] voice. I have never doubted it from that moment. I had not heard of her being worse; the last account had been good, and I was expecting to hear that she was at Torquay. In the course of the next day (the 11th), mother told me that she had died on the morning of the 10th, rather more than twelve hours before I heard her voice.

Sister Bertha (her name is Bertha Foertsch) had been living for many years as German governess to Lucy Anna Gambier Parry, and was her dearest friend. She came to us at once on hearing of Lucy's death, and told me of the mysterious occurrence of the night before.

It was built about the year 1860; the first occupant was Mr. S., an Anglo-Indian, who lived in it for about sixteen years. During this time, in the month of August, year uncertain, he lost his wife, to whom he was passionately attached, and to drown his grief took to drinking. About two years later, Mr. S. married again. His second wife, a Miss I. H., was in hopes of curing him of his intemperate habits, but instead she also took to drinking, and their married life was embittered by constant quarrels, frequently resulting in violent scenes. The chief subjects of dispute were the management of the children (two girls, and either one or two boys, all quite young) of the first Mrs. S., and the possession of her jewellery, to preserve which for her children, Mr. S. had some of the boards in the small front sitting-room taken up by a local carpenter and the jewels inserted in the receptacle so formed. Finally, a few months before Mr. S.'s death, on July 14th, 1876, his wife separated from him and went to live in Clifton. She was not present at the time of his death, nor, as far as is known, was she ever at the house afterwards. She died on September 23rd, 1878.

After Mr. S.'s death the house was bought by Mr. L., an elderly gentleman, who died rather suddenly within six months of going into it. The house then remained empty for some years—probably four.

During this time there is no direct evidence of haunting, but when inquiry was made later on much hearsay evidence was brought forward. In April 1882, the house was let by the representatives of the late Mr. L. to Captain Morton, and it is during his tenancy (not yet terminated) that the appearances recorded have taken place.

The family consists of Captain M. himself; his wife, who is a great invalid; neither of whom saw anything; a married daughter, Mrs. K., then about twenty-six, who was only a visitor from time to time, sometimes with, but more often without, her husband; four unmarried daughters, myself, then aged nineteen, who was the chief percipient and now give the chief account of the apparition; E. Morton, then aged eighteen; L. and M. Morton, then fifteen and thirteen; two sons, one of sixteen, who was absent during the greater part of the time when the apparition was seen; the other, then six years old.

My father took the house in March 1882, none of us having then heard of anything unusual about the house. We moved in towards the end of April, and it was not until the following June that I first saw the apparition.

I had gone up to my room, but was not yet in bed, when I heard some one at the door, and went to it, thinking it might be my mother. On opening the door, I saw no one; but on going a few steps along the passage, I saw the figure of a tall lady, dressed in black, standing at the head of the stairs. After a few moments she descended the stairs, and I followed for a short distance, feeling curious what it could be. I had only a small piece of candle, and it suddenly burnt itself out; and being unable to see more, I went back to my room.

The figure was that of a tall lady, dressed in black of a soft woollen material, judging from the slight sound in moving. The face was hidden in a handkerchief held in the right hand. This is all I noticed then; but on further occasions, when I was able to observe her more closely, I saw the upper part of the left side of the forehead, and a little of the hair above. Her left hand was nearly hidden by her sleeve and a fold of her dress. As she held it down a portion of a widow's cuff was visible on both wrists, so that the whole impression was that of a lady in widow's weeds. There was no cap on the head but a general effect of blackness suggests a bonnet, with a long veil or a hood.

During the next two years—from 1882 to 1884—I saw the figure about half-a-dozen times; at first at long intervals, and afterwards at shorter, but I only mentioned these appearances to one friend, who did not speak of them to any one. During this period, as far as we know, there were only three appearances to any one else.

1. In the summer of 1882 to my sister, Mrs. K., when the figure was thought to be that of a Sister of Mercy who had called at the house, and no further curiosity was aroused. She was coming down the stairs rather late for dinner at 6.30, it being then quite light, when she saw the figure cross the hall in front of her, and pass into the drawing-room. She then asked the rest of us, already seated at dinner, "Who was that Sister of Mercy whom I have just seen going into the drawing-room?" She was told there was no such person, and a servant was sent to look; but the drawing-room was empty, and she was sure no one had come in. Mrs. K. persisted that she had seen a tall figure in black, with some white about it; but nothing further was thought of the matter.

2. In the autumn of 1883 it was seen by the housemaid about 10 P.M., she declaring that some one had got into the house, her description agreeing fairly with what I had seen; but as on searching no one was found, her story received no credit.

3. On or about December 18th, 1883, it was seen in the drawing-room by my brother and another little boy. They were playing outside on the terrace when they saw the figure in the drawing-room close to the window, and ran in to see who it could be that was crying so bitterly. They found no one in the drawing-room, and the parlour-maid told them that no one had come into the house.

After the first time, I followed the figure several times downstairs into the drawing-room, where she remained a variable time, generally standing to the right hand side of the bow window. From the drawing-room she went along the passage towards the garden door, where she always disappeared.

The first time I spoke to her was on January 29th, 1884. "I opened the drawing-room door softly and went in, standing just by it. She came in past me and walked to the sofa and stood still there, so I went up to her and asked her if I could help her. She moved, and I thought she was going to speak, but she only gave a slight gasp and moved towards the door. Just by the door I spoke to her again, but she seemed as if she were quite unable to speak. She walked into the hall, then by the side door she seemed to disappear as before." (Quoted from a letter written on January 31st.) In May and June, 1884, I tried some experiments, fastening strings with marine glue across the stairs at different heights from the ground—of which I give a more detailed account later on.

I also attempted to touch her, but she always eluded me. It was not that there was nothing there to touch, but that she always seemed to be beyond me, and if followed into a corner, simply disappeared.

During these two years the only noises I heard were those of slight pushes against my bedroom door, accompanied by footsteps; and if I looked out on hearing these sounds, I invariably saw the figure. "Her footstep is very light, you can hardly hear it, except on the linoleum, and then only like a person walking softly with thin boots on." (Letter on January 31st, 1884.) The appearances during the next two months—July and August, 1884—became much more frequent; indeed they were then at their maximum, from which time they seem gradually to have decreased, until now they seem to have ceased.

Of these two months I have a short record in a set of journal letters written at the time to a friend. On July 21st I find the following account. "I went into the drawing-room, where my father and sisters were sitting about nine in the evening, and sat down on a couch close to the bow window. A few minutes after, as I sat reading, I saw the figure come in at the open door, cross the room and take up a position close behind the couch where I was. I was astonished that no one else in the room saw her, as she was so very distinct to me. My youngest brother, who had before seen her, was not in the room. She stood behind the couch for about half-an-hour, and then as usual walked to the door. I went after her, on the excuse of getting a book, and saw her pass along the hall, until she came to the garden door, where she disappeared. I spoke to her as she passed the foot of the stairs, but she did not answer, although as before she stopped and seemed as though about to speak." On July 31st, some time after I had gone up to bed, my second sister E., who had remained downstairs talking in another sister's room, came to me saying that some one had passed her on the stairs. I tried then to persuade her that it was one of the servants, but next morning found it could not have been so, as none of them had been out of their rooms at that hour, and E.'s more detailed description tallied with what I had already seen.

On the night of August 1st, I again saw the figure. I heard the footsteps outside on the landing about 2 A.M. I got up at once, and went outside. She was then at the end of the landing at the top of the stairs, with her side view towards me. She stood there some minutes, then went downstairs, stopping again when she reached the hall below. I opened the drawing-room door and she went in, walked across the room to the couch in the bow window, stayed there a little, then came out of the room, went along the passage, and disappeared by the garden door. I spoke to her again, but she did not answer.

On the night of August 2nd the footsteps were heard by my three sisters and by the cook, all of whom slept on the top landing—also by my married sister, Mrs. K., who was sleeping on the floor below. They all said the next morning that they had heard them very plainly pass and repass their doors. The cook was a middle-aged and very sensible person; on my asking her the following morning if any of the servants had been out of their rooms the night before, after coming up to bed, she told me that she had heard these footsteps before, and that she had seen the figure on the stairs one night when going down to the kitchen to fetch hot water after the servants had come up to bed. She described it as a lady in widow's dress, tall and slight, with her face hidden in a handkerchief held in her right hand. Unfortunately we have since lost sight of this servant; she left us about a year afterwards on her mother's death, and we cannot now trace her. She also saw the figure outside the kitchen windows on the terrace-walk, she herself being in the kitchen; it was then about eleven in the morning, but having no note of the occurrence, I cannot now remember whether this appearance was subsequent to the one above mentioned.

These footsteps are very characteristic, and are not at all like those of any of the people in the house; they are soft and rather slow, though decided and even. My sisters would not go out on the landing after hearing them pass, nor would the servants, but each time when I have gone out after hearing them, I have seen the figure there.

On August 5th I told my father about her and what we had seen and heard. He was much astonished, not having seen or heard anything himself at that time—neither then had my mother, but she is slightly deaf, and is an invalid. He made inquiries of the landlord (who then lived close by) as to whether he knew of anything unusual about the house, as he had himself lived in it for a short time, but he replied that he had only been there for three months, and had never seen anything unusual....

On the evening of August 11th we were sitting in the drawing-room with the gas lit but the shutters not shut, the light outside getting dusk, my brothers and a friend having just given up tennis, finding it too dark; my eldest sister, Mrs. K., and myself both saw the figure on the balcony outside, looking in at the window. She stood there some minutes, then walked to the end and back again, after which she seemed to disappear. She soon after came into the drawing-room, when I saw her, but my sister did not. The same evening my sister E. saw her on the stairs as she came out of a room on the upper landing.

The following evening, August 12th, while coming up the garden, I walked towards the orchard, when I saw the figure cross the orchard, go along the carriage drive in front of the house, and in at the open side door, across the hall and into the drawing-room, I following. She crossed the drawing-room and took up her usual position behind the couch in the bow window. My father came in soon after, and I told him she was there. He could not see the figure, but went up to where I showed him she was. She then went swiftly round behind him, across the room, out of the door, and along the hall, disappearing as usual near the garden door, we both following her. We looked out into the garden, having first to unlock the garden door, which my father had locked as he came through, but saw nothing of her.

On August 12th, about 8 P.M., and still quite light, my sister E. was singing in the back drawing-room. I heard her stop abruptly, come out into the hall, and call me. She said she had seen the figure in the drawing-room close behind her as she sat at the piano. I went back into the room with her and saw the figure in the bow window in her usual place. I spoke to her several times, but had no answer. She stood there for about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour; then went across the room to the door, and along the passage, disappearing in the same place by the garden door.

My sister M. then came in from the garden, saying she had seen her coming up the kitchen steps outside. We all three then went out into the garden, when Mrs. K. called out from a window on the first storey that she had just seen her pass across the lawn in front and along the carriage drive towards the orchard. This evening, then, altogether four people saw her. My father was then away, and my youngest brother was out.

On the morning of August 14th the parlour-maid saw her in the dining-room, about 8.30 A.M., having gone into the room to open the shutters. The room is very sunny, and even with all the shutters closed it is quite light, the shutters not fitting well, and letting sunlight through the cracks. She had opened one shutter, when, on turning round, she saw the figure cross the room. We were all on the look-out for her that evening, but saw nothing; in fact, whenever we had made arrangements to watch, and were especially expecting her, we never saw anything. This servant, who afterwards married, was interviewed by Mr Myers at her own house....

On August 19th we all went to the seaside, and were away a month, leaving three servants in the house.

When we came back they said that they had heard footsteps and noises frequently, but as the stair-carpets were up part of the time and the house was empty, many of these noises were doubtless due to natural causes, though by them attributed to the figure.

The cook also spoke of seeing the figure in the garden, standing by a stone vase on the lawn behind the house.

During the rest of that year and the following, 1885, the apparition was frequently seen through each year, especially during July, August, and September. In these months the three deaths took place, viz.:—Mr. S., on July 14th, 1876; the first Mrs. S. in August, and the second Mrs. S. on September 23rd.

The apparitions were of exactly the same type, seen in the same places and by the same people, at varying intervals.

The footsteps continued, and were heard by several visitors and new servants who had taken the places of those who had left, as well as by myself, four sisters and brother; in all by about twenty people, many of them not having previously heard of the apparitions or sounds.

Other sounds were also heard in addition which seemed gradually to increase in intensity. They consisted of walking up and down on the second-floor landing, of bumps against the doors of the bedrooms, and of the handles of the doors turning....

During this year, at Mr. Myers's suggestion, I kept a photographic camera constantly ready to try to photograph the figure, but on the few occasions I was able to do so, I got no result; at night, usually only by candle-light, a long exposure would be necessary for so dark a figure, and this I could not obtain. I also tried to communicate with the figure, constantly speaking to it and asking it to make signs, if not able to speak, but with no result. I also tried especially to touch her, but did not succeed. On cornering her, as I did once or twice, she disappeared.

Some time in the summer of this year (1886), Mrs. Twining, our regular charwoman, saw the figure, while waiting in the hall at the door leading to the kitchen stairs, for her payment. Until it suddenly vanished from her sight, as no real figure could have done, she thought it was a lady visitor who had mistaken her way. Mr. Myers interviewed her on December 29th, 1889, and has her separate account.

On one night in July 1886 (my father and I being away from home), my mother and her maid heard a loud noise in an unoccupied room over their heads. They went up, but seeing nothing and the noise ceasing, they went back to my mother's room on the first storey. They then heard loud noises from the morning-room on the ground floor. They then went half-way downstairs, when they saw a bright light in the hall beneath. Being alarmed, they went up to my sister E., who then came down, and they all three examined the doors, windows, etc., and found them all fastened as usual. My mother and her maid then went to bed. My sister E. went up to her room on the second storey, but as she passed the room where my two sisters L. and M. were sleeping, they opened their door to say that they had heard noises, and also seen what they described as the flame of a candle, without candle or hand visible, cross the room diagonally from corner to door. Two of the maids opened the doors of their two bedrooms, and said that they had also heard noises; they all five stood at their doors with their lighted candles for some little time. They all heard steps walking up and down the landing between them; as they passed they felt a sensation which they described as "a cold wind," though their candles were not blown about. They saw nothing. The steps then descended the stairs, re-ascended, again descended, and did not return.

In the course of the following autumn we heard traditions of earlier haunting, though, unfortunately, in no case were we able to get a first-hand account....

We also now heard from a carpenter who had done jobs in the house in Mrs. S.'s time, that Mrs. S. had wished to possess herself of the first Mrs. S.'s jewels. Her husband had called him in to make a receptacle under the boards in the morning-room on the ground-floor, in which receptacle he placed the jewels, and then had it nailed down and the carpet replaced. The carpenter showed us the place. My father made him take up the boards; the receptacle was there, but empty....

During the next two years, 1887 to 1889, the figure was very seldom seen, though footsteps were heard; the louder noises had gradually ceased. From 1889 to the present, 1892, so far as I know, the figure has not been seen at all; the lighter footsteps lasted a little longer, but even they have now ceased. The figure became much less substantial on its later appearances. Up to about 1886 it was so solid and life-like that it was often mistaken for a real person. It gradually became less distinct. At all times it intercepted the light; we have not been able to ascertain if it cast a shadow.

Proofs of Immateriality.

1. I have several times fastened fine strings across the stairs at various heights before going to bed, but after all others have gone up to their rooms. These were fastened in the following way: I made small pellets of marine glue, into which I inserted the ends of the cord, then stuck one pellet lightly against the wall and the other to the banister, the string being thus stretched across the stairs. They were knocked down by a very slight touch, and yet would not be felt by any one passing up or down the stairs, and by candle-light could not be seen from below. They were put at various heights from the ground from six inches to the height of the banisters, about three feet. I have twice at least seen the figure pass through the cords, leaving them intact.

2. The sudden and complete disappearance of the figure, while still in full view.

3. The impossibility of touching the figure. I have repeatedly followed it into a corner, when it disappeared, and have tried to suddenly pounce upon it, but have never succeeded in touching it or getting my hand up to it, the figure eluding my touch.

4. It has appeared in a room with the doors shut.

On the other hand, the figure was not called up by a desire to see it, for on every occasion when we had made special arrangements to watch for it, we never saw it. On several occasions we have sat up at night hoping to see it, but in vain,—my father, with my brother-in-law, myself with a friend three or four times, an aunt and myself twice, and my sisters with friends more than once; but on none of these occasions was anything seen. Nor have the appearances been seen after we have been talking or thinking much of the figure.

The figure has been connected with the second Mrs. S.; the grounds for which are:—

1. The complete history of the house is known, and if we are to connect the figure with any of the previous occupants, she is the only person who in any way resembled the figure.

2. The widow's garb excludes the first Mrs. S.

3. Although none of us had ever seen the second Mrs. S., several people who had known her identified her from our description. On being shown a photo-album containing a number of portraits, I picked out one of her sister as being most like that of the figure, and was afterwards told that the sisters were much alike.

4. Her step-daughter and others told us that she especially used the front drawing-room in which she continually appeared, and that her habitual seat was on a couch placed in similar position to ours.

5. The figure is undoubtedly connected with the house, none of the percipients having seen it anywhere else, nor had any other hallucination.

In writing the above account, my memory of the occurrences has been largely assisted by reference to a set of journal letters written [to Miss Campbell] at the time, and by notes of interviews held by Mr. Myers with my father and various members of our family.

R. C. Morton.