THE MASS FOR THE DEAD - Horror Stories

THE SEERESS OF PREVORST

 


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THE SEERESS OF PREVORST 

By Scaife, Hazel Lewis, 1872-1939


MODERN spiritism, as every student 

of that fascinating if elusive subject 

is aware, dates from the closing years of the 

first half of the nineteenth century. But the 

celebrated Fox sisters, whose revelations at 

that time served to crystallize into an organized 

religious system the idea of the possibility 

of communication between this world and 

the world beyond, were by no means the first 

of spiritistic mediums. Long before their 

day there were those who professed to have 

cognizance of things unseen and to act as 

intermediaries between the living and the 

dead; and although lost to sight amid the 

throng of latter-day claimants to similar 

powers, the achievements of some of these 

early adventurers into the unknown have not 

been surpassed by the best performances of 

the Fox girls and their long line of successors. 

Especially is this true of the mediumship 

of a young German woman, Frederica Hauffe, 

who in the course of her short, pitiful, and 

tragic career is credited with having displayed 

more varied and picturesque supernatural 

gifts than the most renowned wonder-worker 

of to-day. Like many modern mediums she 

was of humble origin, her birthplace being a 

forester's hut in the Wiirtemberg mountain 

village of Prevorst; and here, among wood- 

cutters and charcoal-burners, she passed the 

first years of her life. Even while still a child 

she seems to have attracted wide-spread 

attention on account of certain peculiarities 

of temperament and conduct. It was noticed 

that though naturally gay and playful she 

occasionally assumed a strangely intent and 

serious manner; that in her happiest moments 

she was subject to unaccountable fits of shud- 

dering and shivering; and that she seemed 

keenly alive not merely to the sights and 

sounds of every-day life but to influences 

unfelt by those about her. This last trait re- 

ceived a sudden and unexpected development 

when, at the age of twelve or thirteen, she was 

sent to the neighboring town of Lowenstein 

to be educated under the care of her grand- 

parents, a worthy couple named Schmidgall. 

Grandfather Schmidgall was an exceed- 

ingly superstitious old man, with a singular 

fondness for visiting solitary and gloomy 

places, particularly churchyards; and he soon 

began to take the little girl with him on such 

strolls. But he discovered, much to his 

amazement, that though she listened with 

avidity to the tales he told her of the romantic 

and mysterious events that had occurred 

within the somber ruins with which the 

countryside was liberally endowed, she was 

reluctant to explore those ruins or wander 

among the graves where he delighted to resort. 

At first he was inclined to ascribe her reluct- 

ance to weak and sentimental timidity, but 

he speedily found reason to adopt an alto- 

gether different view. He noticed that when- 

ever he took her to graveyards or to churches 

in which there were graves, her frail form 

became greatly agitated, and at times she 

seemed rooted to the ground; and that there 

were certain places, especially an old kitchen 

in a nearby castle, which he could not persuade 

her to enter, and the mere sight of which 

caused her to quake and tremble. "The 

child," he told his wife, * 'feels the presence 

of the dead, and, mark you, she will end by 

seeing the dead." 


He was, therefore, more alarmed than sur- 

prised when one midnight, long after he had 

fancied her in bed and asleep, she ran to his 

room and informed him that she had just be- 

held in the hall a tall, dark figure which, sigh- 

ing heavily, passed her and disappeared in the 

vestibule. With awe, not unmixed with satis- 

faction, Schmidgall remembered that he had 

once seen the self -same apparition; but he 

prudently endeavored to convince her that 

she had been dreaming and sent her back to 

her room, which, thenceforward, he never 

allowed her to leave at night. 


In this way Frederica HauflVs mediumship 

began. But several years were to pass before 

she saw another ghost or gave evidence of 

possessing supernormal powers other than by 

occasional dreams of a prophetic and revela- 

tory nature. In the meanwhile she rejoined 

her parents and moved with them from Pre- 

vorst to Oberstenfeld, where, in her nineteenth 

year, she was married. It w T as distinctly a 

marriage of convenience, arranged without 

regard to her wishes, and the moment the 

engagement was announced she secluded her- 

self from her friends and passed her days and 

nights in weeping. For weeks together she 

went without sleep, ate scarcely anything, 

and became thin, pale, and feeble. It was 

rumored that she had set her affections in 

another quarter: but her relatives angrily 

denied this and asserted that once married 

she would soon become herself again. 


They w r ere mistaken. From her wedding 

day, which she celebrated by attending the 

funeral of a venerable clergyman to whom 

she had been warmly attached, her health 

broke rapidly. One morning she awoke in a 

high fever that lasted a fortnight and was 

followed by convulsive spasms, during which 

she beheld at the bedside the image of her 

grandmother Schmidgall, who, it subsequently 

developed, was at that moment dying in dis- 

tant Lowenstein. The spasms continuing, 

despite the application of the customary rude 

remedies of the time, it was decided to send 

for a physician with some knowledge of mes- 

merism, which was then becoming popular in 

Germany. To the astonishment of those who 

thronged the sick room, the first touch of his 

hand on her forehead brought relief. The 

convulsions ceased, she became calm, and 

presently she fell asleep. But on awaking 

she was attacked as before, and try as he 

might the physician could not effect a perma- 

nent cure. To all his " passes " she responded 

with gratifying promptitude, only to suffer 

a relapse the moment she was released from 

the mesmeric influence. 


At this juncture aid was received from a 

most extraordinary source, according to the 

story Frederica told her wondering friends. 

With benign visage and extended hand, the 

spirit of her grandmother appeared to her for 

seven successive nights, mesmerized her, and 

taught her how to mesmerize herself. The re- 

sults of this visitation, if not altogether fortu- 

nate, were at least to some extent curative. 

There were periods when she was able not 

merely to leave her bed but to attend to house- 

hold duties and indulge in long walks and 

drives. But it was painfully apparent that 

she was still in a precarious condition. 


From her infancy she had always been 

powerfully affected by the touch of different 

metals, and now this phenomenon was inten- 

sified a thousand -fold. The placing of a mag- 

net on her forehead caused her features to be 

contorted as though by a stroke of paralysis; 

contact with glass and sand made her catalep- 

tic. Once she was found seated on a sand- 

stone bench, unable to move hand or foot. 

About this time also she acquired the faculty 

of crystal-gazing; that is to say, by looking 

into a bowl of water she could correctly de- 

scribe scenes transpiring at a distance. More 

than this, she now declared that behind the 

persons in whose company she was she per- 

ceived ghostly forms, some of which she 

recognized as dead acquaintances. 


Unlike her grandmother, these new visitants 

from the unknown world did not provide her 

with the means of regaining her lost health. 

On the contrary, from the time they first put 

in their appearance she grew far worse, suffer- 

ing not so much from convulsive attacks as 

from an increasing lassitude. She complained 

that eating was a great tax on her strength, 

and that rising and walking were out of the 

question. Unable to comprehend this new 

turn of affairs, her attendants lost all patience, 

declared that if she had made up her mind 

to die she might as well do so as at once, and 

tried to force her to leave her bed. Finally 

her parents intervened, and at their request 

she was brought back to Oberstenfeld. 


Here she found an altogether congenial 

environment, and for a while showed marked 

improvement. Here too, and in a most sen- 

sational way, her mediumship blossomed into 

full fruition. She had been home for only 

a short time when the family began to be dis- 

turbed by mysterious noises for which they 

could find no cause. A sound like the ring- 

ing of glasses was frequently heard, as were 

footsteps and knockings on the walls. Her 

father, in particular, asserted that sometimes 

he felt a strange pressure on his shoulder or 

his foot. The impression grew that the house, 

which was part of the ancient, picturesque, 

and none too well preserved cathedral of 

Oberstenfeld, was haunted by the spirits of 

its former occupants. 


One night, shortly after retiring to the room 

which they shared in common, Frederica, her 

sister, and a maid servant saw a lighted candle, 

apparently of its own volition, move up and 

down the table on which it was burning. The 

sister and the servant saw nothing more; but 

Frederica the next instant beheld a thin, 

grayish cloud, which presently resolved into 

the form of a man, about fifty years old, 

attired in the costume of a medieval knight. 

Approaching, this strange apparition gazed 

steadfastly at her, and in a low but clear tone 

urged her to rise and follow it, saying that she 

alone could loosen its bonds. Overcome with 

terror, she cried out that she would not follow, 

then ran across the room and hid herself in 

the bed where her sister and the servant lay 

panic-stricken. That night she saw no more 

of the apparition: but the maid, whom they 

sent to sleep in the bed she had so hurriedly 

vacated, declared that the coverings were 

forcibly drawn off her by an unseen hand. 


The next night the apparition appeared to 

Frederica again, and to her alone. This time 

it seemed not sorrowful but angry, and 

threatened that if she did not rise and follow 

she would be hurled out of the window. At 

her bold retort, "In the name of Jesus, do 

it!" the apparition vanished, to return a few 

nights later, and after that to show itself to 

her by day as well as by night. 


It now informed her that it was the ghost 

of a nobleman named Weiler, who had slain 

his brother and for that crime was condemned 

to wander ceaselessly until it recovered a cer- 

tain piece of paper hidden in a vault under 

the cathedral. On hearing this, she solemnly 

assured it that by prayer alone could its 

sins be forgiven and pardon obtained, and 

thereupon she set herself to teach it to pray. 

Ultimately, with a most joyous countenance, 

the ghost told her that she had indeed led it to 

its Redeemer and won its release; and at the 

same time seven tiny spirits the spirits of 

the children it had had on earth appeared 

in a circle about it and sang melodiously. 

Nor did they leave her until the protecting 

apparition of her grandmother interrupted 

their thanksgivings and bade them be gone. 


Whether or no the happy ghost notified 

others in kindred plight of the success that 

had attended her efforts, it is certain that, if 

the contemporary records are to be accepted, 

the few short years of life remaining to her 

were largely occupied in ministering to the 

wants of distressed spirits. Phantom monks, 

nobles, peasants, pressed upon her with terrible 

tales of misdeeds unatoned, and begged her 

to instruct them in the prayers which were 

essential to salvation. There was one specially 

importunate group, the apparitions of a young 

man, a young woman, and a new-born child 

wrapped in ghostly rags, which gave her no 

peace for months. The child, they said, was 

theirs and had been murdered by them, and 

the young woman in her turn had been mur- 

dered by the young man. Naturally, they 

were in an unhappy frame of mind, and until 

she was able to send them on their way re- 

joicing their conduct and language were so 

extravagant that they appalled her more than 

did any other of the numerous seekers for 

grace and rest. 


The dead were not the only ones to whom 

she ministered. Side by side with the gift 

of ghost-seeing and ghost-conversing, and with 

the no less remarkable gift of speaking in an 

unknown tongue and of setting forth the 

mysteries of the hereafter, she developed the 

peculiar faculty of peering into the innermost 

being of spirits still in the flesh, detecting the 

obscure causes of disease, and prescribing 

remedies. Strange to say, her own health 

remained poor, and gradually she became so 

feeble that from day to day her death seemed 

imminent. But her parents were resolved 

to do all they could for her, and at last be- 

thought themselves of placing her in the hands 

of the much talked of physician, Justinus 

Kerner, who lived in the pleasant valley town 

of Weinsberg and was said to be an adept in 

every branch of the healing art, notably in the 

mesmerism which alone appeared to benefit 

her. To Kerner, therefore, she was sent; 

and it is not difficult to imagine the delight 

with which she exchanged the gloomy moun- 

tain forests for the verdant meadows and 

fragrant vineyards of Weinsberg. 


Kerner, who is better known to the present 

generation as mystic and poet than as physi- 

cian, was justly accounted one of the celebri- 

ties of the day. Eccentric and visionary, he 

was yet a man of solid learning and an intense 

patriot. It was owing to him, as his biogra- 

phers fondly recall, that Weinsberg's most 

glorious monument, the well named Weiber- 

trube, was not suffered to fall into utter 

neglect, but was instead restored to remind 

all Germans of that distant day, in the long 

gone twelfth century, when the women of 

Weinsberg, securing from the conqueror the 

promise that their lives would be spared, and 

that they might take with them from the 

doomed city their most precious belongings, 

staggered forth under the burden not of 

jewels and treasure but of their husbands, 

whom they carried in their arms or on their 

backs. Thus was a massacre averted, and 

thus did the name of "Woman's Faithfulness" 

attach itself to the castle in the shadow of 

which Kerner spent his days. But at the time 

of which we write neither the castle nor poetry 

held first place in his thoughts; instead, he 

was absorbed in the practice of his profession. 

And so, with the ardor of the enthusiast and 

the sympathy of the true physician, he wel- 

comed to Weinsberg the sufferer of whom 

he had heard much and of whom he was to 

become both doctor and biographer.* 


It was in November, 1826, that he first met 

her. She was then twenty-five, and thus had 

been for six years in a state of almost constant 

ill health. Her very appearance moved him 

profoundly. Her fragile body, he relates in 

the graphic word picture he drew, enveloped 

her spirit but as a gauzy veil. She was 

extremely small, with Oriental features and 

dark-lashed eyes that were at once penetra- 

ting and "prophetic." When she spoke his 

conviction deepened that he was looking on 

one who belonged more to the world of the 

dead than to the world of the living; and he 

speedily became persuaded that she actually 

did, as she claimed, commune with the 

dead. 


Less than a month after her arrival at Weins- 

berg, and being in the trance condition that 

was now frequent with her, she announced to 

him that she had been visited by a ghost, 

which insisted on showing her a sheet of paper 

covered with figures and begged her to give 

it to his wife, who was still alive and would 

understand its significance and the duty de- 

volving upon her of making restitution to the 

man he had wronged in life. 


Kerner was thunderstruck at recognizing 

from her description a Weinsberg lawyer who 

had been dead for some years and was thought 

to have defrauded a client out of a large sum 

of money. Eagerly he plied Frederica with 

questions, among other things asking her to 

endeavor to locate the paper of which the 

ghost spoke. 


"I see it," said she, dreamily. "It lies in a 

building which is sixty paces from my bed. 

In this I see a large and a smaller room. In 

the latter sits a tall gentleman, who is work- 

ing at a table. Now he goes out, and now he 

returns. Beyond these rooms there is one 

still larger, in which are some chests and a 

long table. On the table is a wooden thing 

I cannot name it and on this lie three 

heaps of paper; and in the center one, about 

the middle of the heap, lies the sheet which 

so torments him." 


Knowing that this was an exact account of 

the office of the local bailiff, Kerner hastened 

to that functionary with the astonishing news, 

and was still more astonished when the bailiff 

told him that he had been occupied precisely 

as she said. Together they searched among 

the papers on the table; but could find none 

in the lawyer's handwriting. Frederica, how- 

ever, was insistent, adding that one corner of 

the paper in question was turned down and 

that it was enclosed in a stout brown envelope. 

A second search proved that she was right, and 

on opening the paper it was found to contain 

not only figures but an explicit reference to a 

private account book of which the lawyer's 

widow had denied all knowledge. Still more 

striking was the fact, according to Kerner 's 

narrative, that when the bailiff, as a test, placed 

the paper in a certain position on his desk and 

went to Frederica, pretending that he had it 

with him, she correctly informed him where it 

was and read it off to him word by word. 


Although the sequel was rather unsatis- 

factory, inasmuch as the widow persisted in 

asserting that she knew nothing of a private 

account book and refused to yield a penny 

to the injured client, Kerner was so impressed 

by this exhibition of supernatural power that, 

in order to study his patient more closely, he 

had her removed from her lodgings to his own 

house. Thither also, as soon as he learned that 

their presence seemed to increase her suscepti- 

bility to the occult influences by which she 

was surrounded, he brought her sister and the 

maid servant of the dancing candle episode. 


Then ensued greater marvels than had ever 

bewitched the family at Oberstenfeld. In- 

visible hands threw articles of furniture at 

the enthusiastic doctor and his friends ; ghostly 

fingers sprinkled lime and gravel on the floor- 

ing of his halls and rooms; spirit knuckles 

beat lively tattoos on walls, tables, chairs, and 

bedsteads. And all the w T hile ghosts with 

criminal pasts flocked in and out, seeking con- 

solation and advice. Only once or twice, 

however, did the physician himself see any- 

thing even remotely resembling a ghost. On 

one occasion a cloudy shape floated past his 

window; and on another he saw at Frederica's 

bedside a pillar of vapor, which she afterward 

told him was the specter of a tall old man who 

had visited her twice before. 


But if he neither saw the ghosts nor heard 

them speak, it was sufficiently demonstrated 

to him that they were really in evidence. The 

knocking, furniture throwing, and gravel 

sprinkling were the least of the wonders of 

which it was permitted him to be a witness. 

Once, when Frederica was taking an after- 

noon nap, a spirit that was evidently solicitous 

for her comfort drew off her boots, and in his 

presence carried them across the room to 

where her sister was standing by a window. 

Again at midnight, after a preliminary knock- 

ing on the walls, he observed another spirit, 

or possibly the same, open a book she had 

been reading which was lying on her bed. 


Most marvelous of all, when her father died 

she herself enacted the role of ghost, the news 

of his death being conveyed to her super- 

naturally and her cry of anguish being super- 

naturally conveyed back to the room where 

his corpse lay, in Oberstenfeld, and where it 

was distinctly heard by the physician who 

had attended him in his last moments. After 

this crowning piece of testimony the good 

Kerner felt that no doubt of her unheard of 

powers could remain in the most skeptical 

mind. 


Judge, then, of his dismay and grief when 

he saw her visibly fading away, daily growing 

more ethereal of form and feature, more weak 

in body and spirit. It was his belief that the 

ghosts were robbing her of her vitality, and 

earnestly but vainly he strove to banish them. 

She herself declared, with a tone of inde- 

scribable relief, that she knew the end was 

near, and that she welcomed it, as she longed 

to attain the quiet of the grave with her father 

and Grandfather and Grandmother Schmid- 

gall. When Kerner sought to cheer her by 

the assurance that she yet had many years to 

live, she silenced him with the tale of a grue- 

some vision. Three times, she said, there had 

appeared to her at dead of night a female 

figure, wrapped in black and standing beside 

an open and empty coffin, to which it beckoned 

her. But before she died she wished to see 

again the mountains of her childhood; and to 

the mountains Kerner carried her. There, 

on August 5, 1829, peacefully and happily, 

to the singing of hymns and the sobbing 

utterance of prayers, her soul took its flight. 


But, unlike Kerner, who hastened back to 

Weinsberg to write the biography of this 

"delicate flower who lived upon sunbeams," 

we must shake off the spell of her strange per- 

sonality and ask seriously what manner of 

mortal she was. This inquiry is the more 

imperative since the doings of the tambourine 

players and automatic writers, of whom so 

much is made in certain quarters to-day, pale 

into insignificance beside the story of her 

remarkable career. 


Now, in point of fact, the evidence bearing 

out the claim that she saw and talked with the 

dead is practically confined to the account 

written by the mourning Kerner, whom no 

one would for a moment call an unprejudiced 

witness. Already deeply immersed in the 

study of the marvelous, his mind absorbed in 

the weird phenomena of the recently dis- 

covered science of animal magnetism, she 

came to him both as a patient and as a living 

embodiment of the mysteries that held for 

him a boundless fascination, and once he 

found reason to believe in her alleged super- 

normal powers, there was nothing too fantastic 

or extravagant to which he would not give 

ready credence and assent. 


His lengthy record of "facts" includes not 

only what he himself saw or thought he saw, 

but every tale and anecdote related to him by 

the seeress and her friends, and also includes 

so many incidents of supernaturalism on the 

part of others that it would well seem that 

half the peasant population of Wiirtemberg 

were ghost seers. Besides this, detailed as his 

narrative is, it is lacking in precisely those 

details which would give it evidential value; 

so lacking, indeed, that even such a spiritistic 

advocate as the late F. W. H. Myers pro- 

nounced it "quite inadequate" for citation in 

support of the spiritistic theory. 


Nevertheless, taking his extraordinary docu- 

ment for what it is worth, careful considera- 

tion of it leads to the conclusion that it 

contains the story not so much of a great fraud 

as of a great tragedy. It is obvious that there 

was frequent and barefaced trickery, par- 

ticularly on the part of Frederica's sister and 

the ubiquitous servant girl; but it is equally 

certain that Frederica herself was a wholly 

abnormal creature, firmly self-deluded, one 

might say self -hypnotized, into the belief 

that the dead consorted with her. And it 

is hardly less certain that in her singular 

state of body and mind she gave evidence not 

indeed of supernatural but of telepathic and 

clairvoyant powers on which she and those 

about her, in that unenlightened age, could 

not but put a supernatural interpretation. 


It is not difficult to trace the origin of the 

nervous and mental disease from which she 

suffered. Kerner's account of her childhood 

shows plainly that she was born tempera- 

mentally imaginative and unstable and that 

she was raised in an environment well calcu- 

lated to exaggerate her imaginativeness and 

instability. Ghosts and goblins were favorite 

topics of conversation among the peasantry 

of Prevorst, while the children with whom she 

played were many of them unstable like her- 

self, neurotic, hysterical, and the victims of 

St. Vitus's dance. The weird and uneasy 

ideas and feelings which thus early took pos- 

session of her were given firmer lodgment by 

her unfortunate sojourn with grave-haunting 

Grandfather Schmidgall. After this, it seems, 

she suffered for a year from some eye trouble, 

and every physician knows how close the con- 

nection is between optical disease and hallu- 

cinations. Then came a brief period of 

seeming normality, the lull before the storm 

which burst in full force with her marriage to 

a man she did not love. From that time, the 

helpless victim of hysteria in its most deep- 

seated and obstinate form, she gave herself 

unreservedly to the delusions which both arose 

from and intensified her physical ills ills 

which after all had a purely mental basis. 

"If I doubted the reality of these apparitions," 

she once told Kerner, "I should be in danger 

of insanity; for it would make me doubt the 

reality of everything I saw." 


It does not affect this view of the case that 

she unquestionably cooperated with her con- 

scienceless sister and the servant girl in the 

production of the fraudulent phenomena to 

which Kerner testifies. Their cheating was 

probably done for the sole purpose of making 

sure of the comfortable berth in which the 

physician's credulity had placed them. Hers, 

on the other hand, was the deceit of an irre- 

sponsible mind, of one living in such an at- 

mosphere of unreality that she could readily 

persuade herself that the knockings, candle 

dancings, book openings, and similar acts were 

the work not of her own hands but of the ghosts 

which tormented her. Indeed, researches of 

recent years in the field of abnormal psychology 

show it is quite possible that she was absolutely 

ignorant of any personal participation in the 

movements and sounds which caused such 

wide-spread mystification. Sympathy and pity, 

therefore, should take the place of condemna- 

tion when we follow the course of her eventful 

and unhappy life. 


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