REMARKABLE EXPERIENCE WITH A ONCE VERY NOTORIOUS PERSON.
One afternoon in 1852, between five and eight (my private hours), my good Susie announced a grand lady, apparently, who had come in a fine carriage with a footman, and who, when told that it was not one of my hours for receiving, begged to see me for a moment. She was admitted, in her satins and velvets, of good figure, handsome and striking, though not beautiful nor longer very young; lady-like in her deportment and general effect, though I could discover that her language was not quite up to her elegant style of dress and manner. She made on me the impression of some woman of rather inferior antecedents, who had been married by some rich man for her good looks. She wanted simply to make an engagement for a private hour, which I gave her for the next morning, and to which she was duly punctual.
She had not been long seated at the table with me, after asking some questions, when she bent her head down upon the table and wept and sobbed convulsively, and called on the Spirit of her mother, who, together with other affectionate expressions, answered in substance, “My dear child, you were left destitute, and a helpless child, and neglected and abused by those who should have taken care of you.” After recovering herself, she said, “You little know how this affects me. These are words of tenderness from my mother; I do believe it, and I am sure of it. I was, indeed, left a helpless child to the cold charity of the world.”
She did not remain very long, nor do I recall more details; but she wept profusely and sobbed, and took my hand, bidding me good-bye, leaving on the table the regular fee of $5. I had no reason to expect to see her again, nor any to doubt her entire respectability.
She soon after came again (my maid Susie announced her as “the rich lady”) and engaged another hour for a private party of her friends. There came with her, to that appointment, three or four nice-looking and well-behaved young women, and two little girls, sisters, of nine and eleven years, whom she presented to me as “my Gracie and my Florence;” and whom I, at the time, presumed to be her children.
She asked, “Is so and so present?” (I do not recall the name.) “Yes,” was answered; and she asked, “What shall I do with these dear children?” The reply came, “You have done well by them so far.” They were pretty and sweet-mannered children, evidently under good training. She said they were not her own, and that they were being brought up at a superior seminary in Albany, and that on coming of age they would inherit a good property. She turned to the children and said, “Your father and mother are here.” “Oh! aunty (clinging to her), what do they say?” “They say you must continue at school.” (The children loved her, and had wanted to come home to her.) The Spirits then rapped out, “We watch over you hourly. When you pray we always listen to your prayers.” There was weeping and sobbing between the children and their “Aunty.” Some questions then passed respecting their property and minor matters. I afterward learned from my good friend, Dr. Wilson, who knew all about them, that the father, after the death of the mother, had fallen into relations with my visitor (who, to me, was as yet only “the rich lady”), and then, when he found his end approaching (from consumption), had given her his directions about his children, knowing her heart to be good, and reliable for conformity to them. While this sitting was going on an interruption occurred, which eventually led up to such consequences that I must introduce it.
A French woman, an importer of laces and a pedler of them, was announced by Susie, who knew that I had some business with her about the purchase of some of her goods, and I had to give her a few minutes. She was a keen and artful woman, and having noticed the style of the customary carriages at my door, she asked me if I could not introduce her to some of my friends, to whom she might sell some of her wares. I yielded to her request (such women are sometimes irresistible), and the result was that, on my showing my own lace to my elegant visitors, they examined the store in her box, and two of them engaged sets of lace from her. Through her acquaintance thus formed with “the rich lady,” at whose house she had to deliver her laces, she learned who she was, and it was easy in New York then for such a woman to learn all about her. It will be seen below that the consequences were serious for my poor visitor, “the rich lady.” This French lace dealer had heard about the “manifestations” at my house, and even knew something about such things in France, and in her visits to that house, to me unknown, as was equally the name of its mistress, she took on herself the character of a clairvoyant medium, and played upon them plenty of her cunning tricks, such as pretended entrancement, etc., for which perhaps a door may have been opened through the genuine experience they had had with me.
My still anonymous friend, “the rich lady,” paid me afterward another visit, in which she still kept me ignorant of who she was. She came alone this time, and unbosomed many of her sorrows to me. (How many others have done so! some men, but chiefly women!) While she was there in the parlor a gentleman came in (Dr. Schoonmaker, a dentist, of 12th Street, a friend of mine, who I believe is still living and remembers it) and was introduced into the back room. By some accident of the opening of the door, he caught a glimpse of my visitor in the front room. He said to me, “Mrs. Brown, are you aware who that is in your front room?” I said that we knew her as “the rich lady,” though she was an uneducated one. “Have you never heard of the notorious —— ——?” and he told me her name, of which of course I had heard. “I am so sorry you have told me this,” I replied; “she has engaged me for another day.” “Well,” he said, “I am her dentist; and she was in my chair a good part of yesterday. Her fee is as good as anybody’s; your advertisements open the door to all investigators, and you have no right to refuse her so long as she behaves herself.” “She has certainly acted like a lady thus far with me,” I could not but answer.
Between then and her next engagement with me (which was her fourth visit to my house), the lace woman had played her fraudulent cards upon her. She had palmed off upon her a fraudulent trance and Spiritualism, and had prepared her for the coming of a handsome young French officer, with et cetera, et cetera of a story. The upshot was that this young man was the lace woman’s son, and an adventurer of whom the rich lady was made a prey. He pretended honorable love and marriage, at which a sinful but repentant soul clutched readily. She married him, and paid me a farewell visit on her departure.
She said, “You little know the good you have done to me;” and she threw on my neck a gold chain and handsome cross. She kissed my hand and left it wet with tears. “Oh, it won’t hurt you,” she said, “if I kiss your hand, though I am much worse than you think me—or at least have been.”