The Missing Link in Modern Spiritualism. A. Leah Underhill
room in which we slept, hitting us as we lay in our beds near the front window. The reader can trace their pathway from departure to arrival at their destination on the diagram of the three stories.
A cabinet shop was the next thing represented by the Spirits. They seemed to be possessed of all kinds of tools to work with. After sawing off boards they would let them fall heavily on the floor, jarring everything around them. Then after planing, jointing, driving nails, and screwing down the lid of a coffin, they would shove the hollow sounding article about the room. (This we understood at a later day.) Often, to our utter amazement, pickets from the discarded lots in the cemetery came flying through the room over our heads, on our beds, like débris in a tornado. They came from the extreme west side of the burying-ground, through that lot, and the distance of two hundred feet through our lot; an entire distance of about four hundred feet. That they came by no visible means, we knew; as no human power could have thrown them through the air into our chamber window, hitting us on our beds, in the same place every time.
Mrs. Vick and her three daughters lived in the other house, on the same foundation as our own. She was a very quiet neighbor, and sympathized with us. She was a native of England, and related many interesting and strange things which she had witnessed in her own family.
I did not wish to encourage the manifestations, and we seldom asked questions. At this time, our troubles (in Rochester) were not known to any one except Mrs. Vick and our own family. But things were coming to a fearful crisis. We closed our windows and did not raise our shades during the day. This seemed to annoy the Spirits more than anything else we had done, and caused them to make a change in their manifestations. Calvin had gone away with his (military) company, and we were left alone several days, at the mercy of the Spirits. We had the consolation of knowing that we had never harmed any one, and we could see no reason why the Spirits should wish to harm us.
We called on our friends, Mr. and Mrs. Post, and told them our story, which afforded them no little amusement at our expense. They were friends of our family, and listened attentively to our statement, believing we were suffering under some psychological delusion. But when they came to examine for themselves, and witnessed the manifestations in their own house, they began to think we were not so entirely deluded as they had supposed. As soon as they became interested, they begged permission to invite some friends of theirs. We consented to let Mr. and Mrs. Henry Bush, and Mr. and Mrs. Lyman Granger come as they were friends of our family, provided they would keep the matter a profound secret. But we soon found it was not long to be so kept.
At times, when we were overcome with anxiety, we would all kneel down with mother, and pray for protection. We had become satisfied that no earthly power could relieve us. While on our knees, pins would be stuck into different parts of our persons. Mother’s cap would be removed from her head, her comb jerked out of her hair, and every conceivable thing done to annoy us. We resolved to rest, as best we could, during the day; but would, on our knees, pray to have these evil doings suppressed. Often did my dear anxious mother exclaim—“What have we done? What have have we done, that we should be so tormented? Dear children, pray to God to have mercy upon us.”
My little sister Katie would sometimes say, “I can’t pray, I feel more like swearing.”
One evening they had been more quiet than usual. We remained some time at the table, and began to hope that things were going to be better with us, when we were suddenly startled and shocked by sounds from the piano, which was open in the parlor. The lower bass key tolled the death-knell, solemnly and distinctly, while we sat at the table, unable for a time to stir. At length I went into the parlor, closed the piano, locked it, and took the key with me; but the sounds kept on. No other demonstrations were made during the night, but the tolling of that knell inside the locked piano. While this solemn sound was made, they would make no other disturbances.
Calvin had not yet returned. The door-bell rang, and Mr. and Mrs. Post came in. On hearing these sounds Mr. Post went for Mr. and Mrs. Bush. When Mr. Bush came and listened to the solemn sounds a few minutes, he fell upon his knees and prayed to God to sustain this family if, in his great wisdom, he had chosen them as instruments through whom mankind should be benefited. Still the dreadful sounds continued until about one o’clock. Our friends left, and we retired to our sleeping-rooms to try and rest, if possible. We seldom all slept at once, as we were sure to be disturbed by some frightful exhibition, if we allowed our light to go out. We were getting ready for bed, when we heard a wagon drive up to the side gate and a familiar voice say “Whoa” to his horses. Mother hastened to the door, and called out, “Oh! Stephen, who is dead? We have had a terrible warning of death, all night.” Stephen, my sister Maria’s husband, replied, “No one is dead, that I know of. But David’s little Ella was supposed to be dying when I left, I have come to take you back with me.” He fed his horses, rested a short time on the sofa, and about four o’clock started for Arcadia, with mother and Maggie. The sounds on the piano ceased. When we received a message from Arcadia, it was to this effect: that dear little Ella was alive when they reached home, but died the next day.
We had been warned, in the spring, when I was there in company with Mrs. Grover and Mrs. Granger, that a death would take place in our family. The words were written on a block of wood corresponding exactly with those the children had brought from the new house which was being built by my father, within speaking distance of brother David’s home. The communication, written in plain letters and thrown through the open window in broad daylight, read as follows: “One of your family will die. She will be happy with the angels; mourn not for her.” I believed it would be mother, as she was so broken down and unhappy. We feared that she would not endure it much longer.
The writing on the block had always troubled me. I was in the room when it was thrown in, and knew that no human power could have thrown it in at that window and escaped instant detection.
[3] As from the sounds of the foot-falls it seemed to us.
[4] My youngest sister Catharine is sometimes called Cathie in these pages and sometimes Katie. Mother and father always called her Cathie and it was her domestic name. At a later period the public always spoke and wrote of her as Katie, so that that appellation came practically to supersede the other. But now, while writing of the period here referred to, the Cathie rises spontaneously, and for mother’s sake I love to let it so stand, pronouncing it to myself as she did, Cathie, as a diminutive of Catharine.
CHAPTER IV.
ROCHESTER (Continued).
Ventriloquism—“Proclaim these Truths to the World”—The Call for the Alphabet—Voices in Raps—God’s Telegraph between the two Worlds—An Eviction—Committee of Five—No Money Accepted—Improper Questions to Spirits—“Done”—Struggle against the “Uncanny Thing”—Benjamin Franklin.
Mother and Maggie returned in about two weeks to Rochester, expecting to remain with us until the new house was finished. But “a change came over the spirit of our dream.” Things in spiritual matters grew from bad to worse. Our kind friend, Mrs. Vick, had died suddenly during mother’s absence, and the family soon gave up the house. It was rented by a new tenant, a diminutive, sickly-looking man who could not stand the “racket.” His wife complained to him, and declared that she was afraid to remain at home with the children while he was absent. One day, while they were eating dinner, they heard knocks on their table. He was furious in his irritation at this, and coming up to me said: “You are ventriloquists, and I will put a stop to your doings. I will have you arrested if I ever hear any noises in my house again.” I doubt if he had finished eating his dinner. He was very pale and trembled with excitement. My neighbor, Mrs. Bush, a very intelligent and talented lady, had called on me, and took up the argument in my behalf herself. She said to him: “Inasmuch as the sounds have been in your house, which have disturbed Leah all the morning, I