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Authors: Joyce Carol Oates

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“And I concur,” Professor Crosby said at once, half rising in his chair, to stare at the insensible medium. “It is all most unscientific. It is all most slipshod and sentimental.”

Dr. Stoughton quietly objected: the hour was late, Deirdre of the Shadows was clearly exhausted, and perhaps in danger of collapse; and even the audience, for all their rapt attention, doubtless suffered fatigue. Tho' the youthful physician spoke with necessary deference to his elders, he did not draw back from suggesting that, a good deal having transpired that evening, which should deserve the contemplation of
all
witnesses, it might be best now to adjourn. “For I hardly believe that Dr. Dodd would countenance much further strain on the young lady's powers,” he said.

“Nonsense,” Dr. Eglinton said. “The medium is always proud of her ‘trances'—she does not want to be awakened, and the carnival stopped.”

“I shall examine her,” Professor Crosby said, rising from his chair. “I have here—as you see—one or two pertinent instruments.”


I
shall examine her,” Dr. Eglinton said. “Dr. Dodd clearly indicated that
I,
as an internist and gynecologist of some modest reputation, should examine the young woman, under the auspices of the Society.”

“And yet,” Sir Patrick Koones said, in a low rapid voice, “it can hardly be done in public. We must clear the room of spectators, or adjourn to a more suitable place.”

“If Dr. Dodd were present—” Dr. Stoughton began, but was interrupted by Dr. Eglinton's sneering aside: “But the old man is
not
present, is he?—and
we
are now in charge.”

 

WHETHER THE THREE
gentlemen would have succeeded in clearing the hall of the invited guests, or whether the proposed examination would have taken place in another part of the building, one cannot know; it is likely, too, that Dr. Stoughton, and one or two others, feeling keenly the injustice of the procedure, would have insisted upon an adjournment, thereby averting disaster.

However, Dr. Eglinton had no sooner uttered his abominable remark, than the gas jets flickered anew, and Mr. Oakley-Hume shuddered aloud at another severe chill, which appeared to pass up his legs from the floorboards; and Mr. Sinnett snatched at his notebook, which suddenly rose from the table, and spiraled away out of sight. “The deuce!” Mr. Sinnett exclaimed. “What has happened?”

Dr. Stoughton was to state afterward, in making his deposition to the Chief Magistrate of New York County, that he had known immediately that something irremeable had occurred, by a subtle alteration of the temperature, and by his uneasy recollection of the medium's warning words—to the effect that, should wicked spirits be loos'd, she might be incapable of restraining them. (“Indeed,” Dr. Stoughton explained to the authorities, and by his testimony quite exonerated the medium herself, of any possibility of wrongdoing, “it should have been a miracle for the poor young lady to have affected the course of the events at all, since her delicate constitution was so taxed by the examination, she was very nearly in a dead faint; and must have been entirely insensible of what happened about her.”)

Professor Crosby, clutching several instruments of a gleaming surgical nature, had pushed back his chair, and was about to proceed boldly to the medium, in order, as he put it, “to forcibly examine her, and expose the shameful fraud to the assemblage of gulls and dupes”; but was restrained by Mr. Oakley-Hume, who murmured, with great compassion and distress, that it was a “most ungentlemanly procedure, in which he could have no part.” Mr. Sinnett had wandered to one side of the oval parlor, seeking his notebook (which appeared to have vanished, tho' it was to be found, upon the morn, in one of the horse troughs on the north side of Gramercy Park), being aided in his activity by several sympathetic members of the audience. Sir Patrick Koones complained aloud, with some alarm, of the truly severe chill, which not only arose from the carpet, but descended from the ceiling, with a disconcerting effect upon his bald head; and Dr. Eglinton began to wipe and swat the air close about him, as if driving off flies, being afflicted, of a sudden, with something invisible but highly persistent, that both
bit
and
kissed
at his face. “What is it—who is it—how
dare
you!” the astonished gentleman cried.

Attention was now turned to Dr. Eglinton, who stumbled to his feet, continuing to mutter excitedly, and swatting at the air. A child's voice was suddenly heard—singing and crooning—high, shrill, mischievous, yet of an almost distressing
sweetness,
uncanny to hear. Dr. Eglinton did not find the presence sweet, however, but cried angrily: “The Devil!—the very Devil! D——n creature! Away with you! None of that, d'you hear! I am
Dr. Percival Eglinton!

Out of the empty air came the melodious voice: “Love love love love
love
”—followed by a tinkling giggle.

“I say, how dare you! I say, none of that!” Dr. Eglinton remonstrated, his face flushing red.

“Love Doctor! Love Doctor!
Kiss kiss kiss kiss!
” the naughty spirit cried. (This was of course the child
Bianca,
and never had she possessed, at any previous séance, so extraordinary a charm! Indeed, I am powerless to evoke, for the skeptical reader, the nearly unbearable beauty of her voice—its winsome sweetness, its pristine innocence, yet, withal, its
teasing girlishness.
But every witness to Dr. Eglinton's collapse was to attest, afterward, that the child's voice—to whomever it belonged—must have had a heavenly origin, being so angelic: and that the physician's furious swatting and pummeling of the air, seemed greatly in excess of the situation.)

“Lips brushing mine—arms about my neck—murderous little teeth—I say, stop! D——n slut! I will have you put in chains! I will have you flogged!—flayed!—dissected!”

And the darling little girl merely crooned and teased, quite invisible to the assemblage, save in her remarkable effect upon Dr. Eglinton.

This contretemps involved perhaps as little as ten minutes, tho', in the judgment of most witnesses, the time appeared to be much protracted for so it is, that eyewitnesses can rarely gauge the duration of time, without falling back upon mechanical means. Very little sympathy was evoked by the spectacle of the dignified gentleman stumbling about, in rage, and then terror, for it was generally believed that the child's teasing was altogether innocent, and the
kissing
merely
kissing.
(Which would have been quite shocking in a mature female spirit, but was, surely, no more than a sign of babyish affection in
Bianca.
) Dr. Eglinton shouted—begged—whined—whimpered: and his fellow committee members made every effort to calm him, tho' risking the danger (which poor Sir Patrick Koones did not entirely escape) of being struck by him in his frantic pummeling. As if to expose Dr. Eglinton to the weakest eye, the gas jets not only regained their full strength, but appeared somewhat brighter than ordinary; and, as I have said, the poor gentleman drew no sympathy from the audience, and even, it is sorrowful to report, some merriment at his expense—for he
did
look a fool, stumbling and crashing about, as if set upon by a hive of hornets, and not merely a child-spirit's kisses!

Dr. Stoughton remonstrated with Dr. Eglinton, not guessing at the seriousness of the situation, and perhaps believing, in his own confusion, that Dr. Eglinton was
imagining
the assault, and that argument could reason him out of it. Professor Crosby stood with his surgical instruments at the ready, a sneer twisting his lips: for his old rival Eglinton was being quite humiliated, and he saw no reason not to enjoy the spectacle. Mr. Oakley-Hume, his hand pressed to his heart, pleaded in a low voice to the frightened Mr. Sinnett to help him from the “accursèd chamber before it was too late, and all were destroyed,” which Mr. Sinnett needed no further prompting to do: whereupon both gentlemen left the parlor, under cover of the general confusion. (In writing up his famous account of the evening for the Boston
Journal,
Mr. Sinnett averred that it was only the feebleness of his companion's constitution that saved both their lives—which was, I am convinced, a grave exaggeration. “In any case,” Mr. Sinnett declared, for the
Journal
's thousands of fascinated readers, “there can be no doubt from this day forward:
Spirit World does exist, and is hardly to be trifled with, by even the most distinguished scientists.
”)

Now Dr. Eglinton pawed and clutched at his clothing, so writhing about that his gray frock coat tore under one arm: a sight that repulsed the ladies, and many of the gentlemen. Dr. Stoughton and Sir Patrick Koones being temporarily routed, Professor Crosby set his instruments aside, and went to seize his colleague by the shoulders, declaring that “the charade was about over,” whereupon, to everyone's astonishment, he too began at once to swat and strike at the air, and rub his bewhiskered face roughly, muttering: “Begone, d'you hear! Begone! What is it! Who—!”

I should have noted, perhaps, that during this time the entranced medium remained seated as before, rigid as a statue, and as sightless, on her raised platform, discreetly apart from the gentlemen's difficulties. Where her etheric body roamed—where her imagination dwelt—I cannot say; nor could Deirdre herself, recall upon wakening. And during this time members of the audience had risen to their feet, in amusement, alarm, or simple keen interest, crowding to the front of the room, tho' not o'erly near—wisely fearing the contagion of the child-spirit's assault. (A number of Society members, primarily ladies, made their exit from the room, feeling great strain and fatigue, and not a little apprehension, that perhaps—tho' they were
not
Popish in their fear of Spiritualism—the Devil might have a hand in it, and not merely disinterested private spirits.)

Now both Dr. Eglinton and Professor Crosby were being attacked by the invisible
Bianca,
perhaps with the aid of other spirits, for so it seemed afterward, judging from the extent of their injuries; and the situation, tho' ludicrous to behold, soon darkened, and revealed its sinister aspect, when Dr. Eglinton crashed heavily to the floor, and rolled and pitched about. Poor Dr. Stoughton clearly had no idea what to do, for relative youth and inexperience, and a certain reserve of character, ill equipped him to handle such emergencies: he clutched and tugged at his hair; ran to Deirdre of the Shadows and begged her to awaken, and put a halt to the spirits' persecution; then ran back to the struggling gentlemen, remonstrating with them, and near-sobbing in his distress: for how unfortunate it was, that his first experience as comptroller of a Spiritualist session, should end in such chaos!

“Gentlemen! Gentlemen! You must come to your senses!” the distracted young man cried. Whereupon a vast assemblage of spirits laughed heartily—and the cruel gas jets glowed stronger than ever.

 

THE INVESTIGATION OF
the Society for Psychical Research into the mediumship of Deirdre of the Shadows became a landmark in American Spiritualist research, and acquired notoriety, as I hardly need record, far beyond Spiritualist circles. That two examiners were tormented by spirits
to their deaths,
and a third examiner so deranged that his relatives were soon obliged to hospitalize him, impressed upon the scientific community the gravity of taking too lightly Spiritualist claims; and impressed upon the public in general the formidable powers of Spirit World. It goes without saying that Deirdre of the Shadows became so famous, and so sought after, that she was obliged to go into seclusion for some months—and to afterward accept, as her clients, only a very élite group of ladies and gentlemen, whose fidelity to Spiritualism, and whose fervor in supporting its necessary worldly accoutrements, were exemplary.

“How
very
extraordinary!” Mr. Orlando Vandenhoffen was to observe, the following midday, when, at a late breakfast, he saw the blazing front page of the
Tribune,
with its lurid photographs, its two-inch red headlines, and exclamations. “How very—
very
—extraordinary!”

Malvinia, sensing that the news must concern her despised sister, grew deathly pale, but said not a word: indeed, she turned innocently aside, and occupied herself with rearranging a bunch of white and pink orchids, which had been delivered only minutes before.

“Ah, this medium—this ‘Deirdre of the Shadows'—I am grateful to you, dear Malvinia,” Vandenhoffen said, “for dissuading us from going to one of her sittings: for, as it turns out, she is not only a
genuine
medium, but a
lethal
one.”

Not noticing that his mistress remained silent, her back to him, he continued to read the article, muttering aloud, and sucking and pulling at his mustache, frequently interrupting himself with ejaculations of alarm and horrified amusement. “Egad,
how
is it possible!—and yet, and yet—it seems that it
is
possible—for the
Tribune
would hardly lie,” he said.

Malvinia succeeded in remaining silent, tho' her heart fluttered, and a violent pulse raced in her throat; and she very nearly drew blood, by biting so hard upon her lower lip.
I shall not inquire, I shall not know, she is nothing to me, I feel no curiosity, I am untouch'd. .
.
.

And finally, after much muttering and
tsking,
Vandenhoffen relieved her suspenseful curiosity, by saying, in an amazed voice: “It seems, my dear, that two gentlemen—a Dr. Eglinton, and a Professor Crosby—of whom, I must say, I have never heard—were tormented to death last night, before some fifty eyewitnesses, here in the city—
by spirits.
It is evidently the first such instance in recorded history, and it took place but a scant mile south, at Gramercy Park! Amazing! Two gentlemen said to be in excellent health, in the prime of life, staunch Rationalists,
tormented to death by spirits
—have you ever heard anything more astonishing? It was discovered that their faces and throats, and much of their bodies, were mutilated by thousands of tiny serrated teethmarks, which had filled in with blood. How
very
extraordinary,” Vandenhoffen mused uneasily. “One might suppose that—granting the existence of spirits, to begin with—they might have had the power to frighten the men to death: but to
bite
them to death, with such tiny teeth! Each of the victims, it says, lost less than a pint of blood; the wounds were quite superficial. Don't you think, Malvinia,” Vandenhoffen said, turning to her, “it is
all
most extraordinary? And perhaps even ‘historical,' in a manner of speaking?”

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