“I have only been waiting for a termination of the case, either in convalescence or death, to enable me to give to the profession, through your valuable columns, a full and truthful history of this rare and curious case, replete with interest. The exaggerated statement which has gone the round of the press has produced such great curiosity in this immediate neighbourhood that I have been applied to by many parties, professional and non-professional, to be permitted to see the case, the parents of the patient having refused admittance to all strangers.
“The case having extended over a long period, and fearing a detailed account might occupy too much of your valuable space, I have condensed the matter as much as possible; but should the profession consider the case worthy of a more enlarged history, I will gladly, at some future period, meet their wishes, as far as my rough notes, aided by my memory, will supply it.
“In August, 1858, I was requested to visit Miss Amelia Hincks, aged twelve years and nine months, daughter of a harness-maker, and residing with her parents in Bridge Street, Nuneaton. She was supposed to be suffering from pulmonary consumption.... On October 18, about half-past three a.m., she apparently died. She is said to have groaned heavily, waved her hands (which was a promised sign for her mother to know that the hour of her departure was come), turned her head a little to the light, dropped her jaw, and died. In about half an hour after her supposed departure she was washed, and attired in clean linen, the jaw was tied by a white handkerchief, penny-pieces laid over her eyes, her hands, semi-clenched, placed by her side, and her feet tied together by a piece of tape. She was then carried into another room, laid on a sofa, and covered over with a sheet. She appeared stiff and cold, two large books were placed on her feet, and I have no doubt she was considered to be a sweet corpse.
“About nine a.m., the grandfather of the supposed dead went into the death-chamber to give a last kiss to his grandchild, when he fancied he saw a convulsive movement of the eyelid, he having raised one of the coins. He communicated this fact to the parents and mourning friends, but they ridiculed the old man’s statement, and said the movement of the eyelids was owing to the nerves working after death. Their theory, however, did not satisfy the experienced man of eighty years, and he could not reconcile himself to her death. As soon as I reached home, after having been out in the country all night, I was requested to see the child, to satisfy the old man that she was really dead. About half-past ten a.m. I called; and immediately on my entrance into the chamber I perceived a tremulous condition of the eyelids, such as we frequently see in hysterical patients. The penny-pieces had been removed by the grandfather. I placed a stethoscope over the region of the heart, and found that organ performing its functions perfectly and with tolerable force. I then felt for a radial pulse, which was easily detected, beating feebly, about seventy-five per minute. The legs and arms were stiff and cold, and the capillary circulation was so congested as at first sight to resemble incipient decomposition. I carefully watched the chest, which heaved quietly but almost imperceptibly; and immediately unbandaged the maiden, and informed her mourning parents that she was not dead. Imagine their consternation! The passing-bell had rung, the shutters were closed, the undertaker was on his way to measure her for her coffin, and other necessary preparations were being made for her interment. [The writer then proceeds to give interesting details as to the treatment of the case, and the means taken to promote recovery.]
“Richard Bird Mason, M.R.C.S., L.S.A.
“Bridge Street, Nuneaton, December 14, 1858.”
From the Lancet, March 5, 1859, p. 254.
“TRANCE.
“Another case of trance is reported, in addition to those which we have lately recorded. A widow named Aufray, about sixty years of age, of St. Agnan de Cenuières (Eure), long seriously ill, became suddenly worse, grew cold and motionless, and, as it was thought, dead. She was laid out, the coffin ordered, and the church bell tolled. She recovered consciousness just before the funeral was to take place.”