Searchable Theosophical Texts
Theosophy House
Incidents in the Life
of Madame Blavatsky
compiled from information supplied by
her
relatives and friends and edited by A P Sinnett
The Secret Doctrine by H P Blavatsky
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The
Theosophical Publishing House,
AUTHOR'S
PREFACE
THE first
edition of this book, published in 1886, was issued during
Madame Blavatsky's
lifetime as an indirect protest against the cruel and
slanderous
attack on her embodied in the Report to the Committee of the
Psychical
Research Society appointed to investigate the phenomena connected with
the
Theosophical Society. This Report was very effectually answered at the time,
and the
passages in my original book especially relating to it are hardly worth
reproduction
now. But the facts relating to Madame Blavatsky's life which it
then dealt
with are more interesting now than ever, in view of the gigantic
development
of the Theosophical Society; and the original edition having been
long out of
print, the present edition is prepared to meet a widespread desire.
I need not
now reproduce dissertations which the original edition contained in
deprecation
of the incredulity that still held sway twenty-five years ago in
reference to
the reality of occult phenomena. A great change in this respect has
come over
cultivated thinking within that period, and appeals for tolerance on
behalf of
those who give testimony concerning occult super-psychical phenomena
of which they
may have been witness are no longer necessary.[6]
For the rest,
the book is now republished as written, no attempt having been
made to
recast its language to suit the present time, when the subject of the
memoir is no
longer with us; but I have added some notes where later events or
experience
have seemed to claim them.
CONTENTS
Chapter Page
AUTHOR'S PREFACE 5
1CHILDHOOD 9
2MARRIAGE AND TRAVEL 39
3AT HOME IN
4MADAME DE JELIHOWSKY'S NARRATIVE66
5MADAME DE JELIHOWSKY'S NARRATIVE —
continued87
6MADAME DE JELIHOWSKY'S NARRATIVE —
continued 105
7FROM APPRENTICESHIP TO DUTY 121
8RESIDENCE IN AMERICA132
9ESTABLISHED IN INDIA169
10A VISIT TO EUROPE205
NOTE FOR THE PRESENT EDITION255
MADAME
BLAVATSKY
CHAPTER 1
CHILDHOOD
QUOTING the
authoritative statement of her late uncle, General Fadeef,
made at my
request in 1881, at a time when he was Joint-Secretary of State in
the Home
Department at
Blavatsky, to
give the name at full length) “ is, from her father's side, the
daughter of
Colonel Peter Hahn, and granddaughter of General Alexis Hahn von
Rottenstern
Hahn (a noble family of
and she is,
from her mother's side, the daughter of Helene Fadeef, and
granddaughter
of Privy Councillor Andrew Fadeef and of the Princess Helene
Dolgorouky.
She is the widow of the Councillor of State, Nicephore Blavatsky,
late
Vice-Governor of the
Mademoiselle
Hahn, to use her family name in referring to her childhood, was
born at
Ekaterinoslaw, in the south of
proper German
form of the name, and in French writing or conversation the name,
as used by
Russians, would be De Hahn, but in its strictly Russian form the
prefix was
generally dropped.[10]
For the
following particulars concerning the family I am indebted to some of its
present
representatives who have taken an interest in the preparation of these
memoirs.
“The Von
Hahn family is well known in
belong to an
old
Countess Ida
Hahn-Hahn, the famous authoress, with whose writings
well
acquainted. Settling in
was married
to the Countess Proêbstin, who, after his death, married Nicholas
Wassiltchikof,
the brother of the famous Prince of that name. Mme. Blavatsky's
father left
the military service with the rank of a colonel after the death of
his first
wife. He had been married en premières noces to Mademoiselle H.
Fadeew, known
in the literary world between 1830 and 1840 as an authoress — the
first
novel-writer that had ever appeared in
Zenaida R . .
. , and who, although dying before she was twenty-five, left some
dozen novels
of the romantic school, most of which have been translated into the
German
language. In 1846 Colonel Hahn married his second wife — a Baroness Von
Lange, by
whom he had a daughter referred to by Mme. Jelihowsky as ' little
Lisa' in the
extracts here given from her writings, published in St Petersburg.
On her
mother's side Mme. Blavatsky is the granddaughter of Princess Dolgorouky,
with whose
death the elder line of that family became extinct in Russia. Thus
her maternal
ancestors belong to the oldest families of the empire, since they
are the
direct descendants of the Prince or Grand Duke Rurik, the first ruler
called to
govern Russia. Several ladies of that family belonged to the Imperial
house,
becoming Czarinas (Czaritiza) by marriage. For a Princess Dolgorouky
(Maria
Nikitishna) had been married to the grandfather of Peter the Great, the
Czar Michael
Fedorovitch, the first reigning Roman of; another, the Princess
Catherine
Alexeévna, was on the [11] eve of her marriage with Czar Peter
the II when
he died suddenly before the ceremony.
“A strange
fatality seems always to have persecuted this family in connection
with England;
and its greatest vicissitudes have been in some way associated
with that
country. Several of its members died, and others fell into political
disgrace, as
they were on their way to London. The last and most interesting of
all is the
tragedy connected with the Prince Sergeéy Gregoreevitch Dolgorouky,
Mme.
Blavatsky's grandmother's grandfather, who was ambassador in Poland. At the
advent of the
Archduchess Anne of Courlang to the throne of Russia, owing to
their
opposition to her favourite of infamous memory, the Chancellor Biron, many
of the highest
families were imprisoned or exiled; others put to death and their
wealth
confiscated. Among these, such fate befell the Prince Sergèey
Dolgorouky.
He was sent
in exile to Berezof (Siberia) without any explanation, and his
private
fortune, that consisted of 200,000 serfs, was confiscated. His two
little sons
were, the elder placed with a village smith as an apprentice, the
younger
condemned to become a simple soldier, and sent to Azof. Eight years
later the
Empress Anne laxnovna recalled the exiled father, pardoned him, and
sent him as
ambassador to London. Knowing Biron well, however, the prince sent
to the Bank
of England 100,000 roubles to be left untouched for a century,
capital and
accumulated interest, to be distributed after that period to his
direct
descendants. His presentiment proved correct. He had not yet reached
Novgorod, on
his way to England, when he was seized and put to death by
'quartering'
(cut in four). When the Empress Elizabeth, Peter the Great's
daughter,
came to the throne next, her first care was to undo the great wrongs
perpetrated
by her predecessor through her cruel and crafty favourite Biron.
Among other
exiles the two sons and heirs of Prince Sergeéy were recalled, their
title restored,
and their property ordered to be given back. This, however,
instead of
being 200,000 serfs, had dwindled down to only 8000. The younger son,
after a youth
of extreme misery and [12] hardship, became a monk, and died
young. The
elder married a Princess Romadanovsky; and his son, Prince Paul, Mme.
Blavatsky's
great-grandfather, named while yet in his cradle a Colonel of the
Guards by the
Emperor, married a Countess du Plessy, the daughter of a noble
French
Huguenot family, emigrated from France to Russia. Her father had found
service at
the Court of the Empress Catherine II where her mother was the
favourite
dame d'honneur.
“The
receipt of the Bank of England for the sum of 100,000 roubles, a sum that
at the end of
the term of one hundred years had grown to immense proportions,
had been
handed by a friend of the politically murdered prince to the grandson
of the
latter, the Prince Paul Dolgorouky. It was preserved by him with other
family
documents at Marfovka, a large family property in the government of
Penja, where
the old prince lived and died in 1837. But the document was vainly
searched for
by the heirs after his death ; it was nowhere to be found. To their
great horror
further research brought to light the fact that it must have been
burnt,
together with the residence, in a great fire that had some time previous
destroyed
nearly the whole village. Having lost his sight in a paralytic stroke
some years
previous to his demise, the octogenarian prince, old and ill, had
been kept in
ignorance of the loss of the most important of his family
documents.
This was a crushing misfortune, that left the heirs bereft of their
contemplated
millions. Many were the attempts made to come to some compromise
with the
bank, but to no purpose. It was ascertained that the deposit had been
received at
the bank, but some mistake in the name had been made, and then the
bank demanded
very naturally the receipt delivered about the middle of the last
century. In
short, the millions disappeared for the Russian heirs. Mme.
Blavatsky has
thus in her veins the blood of three nations — the Slavonian, the
German, and
the French.â€
The year of
Mademoiselle Hahn's birth, 1831, was fatal for Russia, as for all
Europe, owing
to the first visit of the cholera, that terrible plague that
decimated
from [13] 1830 to 1832 in turn nearly every town of the
continent,
and carried away a large part of its populations. Her birth was
quickened by
several deaths in the house. She was ushered into the world amid
coffins and
desolation. The following narrative is composed from the family
records :—
“Her father
was then in the army, intervals of peace after Russia's war with
Turkey in
1829 being filled with preparations for new fights. The baby was born
on the night
between July 30 and 31 — weak and apparently no denizen of this
world. A
hurried baptism had to be resorted to, therefore, lest the child died
with the
burden of original sin on her soul. The ceremony of baptism in
'orthodox'
Russia is attended with all the paraphernalia of lighted tapers, and
'pairs' of
godmothers and godfathers, every one of the spectators and actors
being
furnished with consecrated wax candles during the whole proceedings.
Moreover,
everyone has to stand during the baptismal rite, no one being allowed
to sit in the
Greek religion — as they do in Roman Catholic and Protestant
Churches —
during the church and religious service. The room selected for the
ceremony in
the family mansion was large, but the crowd of devotees eager to
witness it
was still larger. Behind the priest officiating in the centre of the
room, with
his assistants, in their golden robes and long hair, stood the three
pairs of
sponsors and the whole household of vassals and serfs. The child-aunt
of the baby —
only a few years older than her niece aged twenty-four hours, —
placed as '
proxy ' for an absent relative, was in the first row immediately
behind the
venerable protopope. Feeling nervous and tired of standing still for
nearly an
hour, the child settled on the floor, unperceived by the elders, and
became
probably drowsy in the overcrowded room on that hot July day. The
ceremony was
nearing its close. The sponsors were just in the act of renouncing
the Evil One
and his deeds, a renunciation emphasised in the Greek Church by
thrice
spitting upon the invisible enemy, when the little lady, toying with her
lighted taper
at the feet of the crowd, [14] inadvertently set fire to the
long flowing
robes of the priest, no one remarking the accident until it was too
late. The
result was an immediate conflagration, during which several persons —
chiefly the
old priest — were severely burnt. That was another bad omen,
according to
the superstitious beliefs of orthodox Russia; and the innocent
cause of it —
the future Mme. Blavatsky — was doomed from that day in the eyes
of all the
town to an eventful life, full of vicissitude and trouble.
“Perhaps on
account of an unconscious apprehension to the same effect, the
child became
the pet of her grandparents and aunts, and was greatly spoiled in
her
childhood, knowing from her infancy no other authority than that of her own
whims and
will. From her earliest years she was brought up in an atmosphere of
legends and
popular fancy. As far back as her remembrances go, she was possessed
with a firm
belief in the existence of an invisible world of supermundane and
sub-mundane
spirits and beings inextricably blended with the life of each
mortal. The
'Domovoy' (house goblin) was no fiction for her, any more than for
her nurses
and Russian maids. This invisible landlord — attached to every house
and building,
who watches over the sleeping household, keeps quiet, and works
hard the
whole year round for the family, cleaning the horses every night,
brushing and
plaiting their tails and manes, protecting the cows and cattle from
the witch,
with whom he is at eternal feud — had the affections of the child
from the
first. The Domovoy is to be dreaded only on March the 30th, the only
day in the
year when, owing to some mysterious reasons, he becomes mischievous
and very
nervous, when he teases the horses, thrashes the cows and disperses
them in
terror, and causes the whole household to be dropping and breaking
everything,
stumbling and falling that whole day — every prevention
notwithstanding.
The plates and glasses smashed, the inexplicable disappearance
of hay and
oats from the stables, and every family unpleasantness in general,
are usually
attributed to the fidgetiness and nervous excitement of the Domovoy.
Alone, those
born on the night between July 30th and 31st are exempt from his
freaks. It is
from the philosophy [15] of her Russian nursery that
Mademoiselle
Hahn learned the cause of her being called by the serfs the
Sedmitchka,
an untranslatable term, meaning one connected with number Seven; in
this
particular case, referring to the child having been born on the seventh
month of the
year, on the night between the 30th and 31st of July — days so
conspicuous
in Russia in the annals of popular beliefs with regard to witches
and their
doings. Thus the mystery of a certain ceremony enacted in great
secrecy for
years during July the 30th, by the nurses and household, was
divulged to
her as soon as her consciousness could realise the importance of the
initiation.
She learned even in her childhood the reason why, on that day, she
was carried
about in her nurse's arms around the house, stables, and cow-pen,
and made
personally to sprinkle the four corners with water, the nurse repeating
all the while
some mystic sentences. These may be found to this day in the
ponderous
volumes of Sacharof's ' Russian Demonology,' [The Traditions of the
Russian
People by J Sacharof in seven volumes, embracing popular literature,
beliefs,
magic, witchcraft, the sub-mundane spirits, ancient customs and rites,
songs and
charms, for the last 1000 years.] a laborious work that necessitated
over thirty
years of incessant travelling and scientific researches in the old
chronicles of
the Slavonian lands, and that won to the author the appellation of
the Russian
Grimm.â€
Born in the
very heart of the country which the Roussalka (the Undine) has
chosen for
her abode ever since creation — reared on the shores of the blue
Dnieper, that
no Cossack of Southern Ukraine ever crosses without preparing
himself for
death — the child's belief in these lovely green-haired nymphs was
developed
before she had heard of anything else. The catechism of her Ukraine
nurses passed
wholly into her soul, and she found all these weird poetical
beliefs
corroborated to her by what she saw, or fancied she saw, herself around
her ever
since her earliest babyhood. Legends seem to have [16] lingered in
her family,
preserved by the recollections of the older servants, of events
connected
with such beliefs, and they inspired the early tyranny she was taught
to exercise,
as soon as she understood the powers that were attributed to her by
her nurses.
The sandy shores of the rapid Dnieper encircling Ekaterinoslaw, with
their
vegetation of sallows, were her favorite rambling place, Once there, she
saw a
roussalka in every willow tree, smiling and beckoning to her; and full of
her own
invulnerability, impressed upon her mind by her nurses, she was the only
one who
approached those shores fearless and daring. The child felt her
superiority
and abused it. The little four-year-old girl demanded that her will
should be
implicitly recognized by her nurse, lest she should escape from her
side, and
thus leave her unprotected, to be tickled to death by the beautiful
and wicked
roussalka, who would no longer be restrained by the presence of one
whom she
dared not approach. Of course her parents knew nothing of this side of
the education
of their eldest born, and learned it too late to allow such
beliefs to be
eradicated from her mind. It is only after a tragic event that
would
otherwise have passed hardly noticed by the family, that a foreign
governess was
thought of. In one of her walks by the river side a boy about
fourteen who
was dragging the child's carriage incurred her displeasure by some
slight
disobedience. “I will have you tickled to death by a roussalka ! â€
she screamed.
“There's one coming down from that tree . . . here she comes . .
. See, see!†Whether the
boy saw the dreaded nymph or not, he took to his
heels, and,
the angry commands of the nurse notwithstanding, disappeared along
the sandy
banks leading homeward. After much grumbling the old nurse was
constrained
to return home alone with her charge, [17] determined to have
“Pavlik†punished.
But the poor lad was never seen alive again. He ran away
to his
village, and his body was found several weeks later by fishermen, who
caught him in
their nets. The verdict of the police was “drowning by
accidentâ€. It was
thought that the lad, having sought to cross some shallow
pools left
from the spring inundations, had got into one of the many sand pits
so easily
transformed by the rapid Dnieper into whirlpools. But the verdict of
the horrified
household — of the nurses and servants — pointed to no accidental
death, but to
the one that had occurred in consequence of the child having
withdrawn
from the boy her mighty protection, thus delivering the victim to some
roussalka on
the watch. The displeasure of the family at this foolish gossip was
enhanced when
they found the supposed culprit gravely corroborating the charge,
and
maintaining that it was she herself who had handed over her disobedient serf
to her
faithful servants the water-nymphs. Then it was that an English governess
was brought
upon the scene.
Miss Augusta
Sophia Jeffries did not believe in the roussalkas or the domovoys;
but this
negative merit was insufficient to invest her with a capacity for
managing the
intractable pupil consigned to her care. She gave up her task in
despair, and
the child was again left to her nurses till about six years old,
when she and
her still younger sister were sent to live with their father. For
the next two
or three years the little girls were chiefly taken care of by their
father's
orderlies; the elder, at all events, greatly preferring these to their
female
attendants. They were taken about with the troops to which their father
was attached,
and were petted on all sides as the enfants du régiment.
Her mother
died when Mademoiselle Hahn was still a child, [18] and at about
eleven years
of age she was taken charge of altogether by her grandmother, and
went to live
at Saratow, where her grandfather was civil governor, having
previously
exercised similar authority in Astrachan. She speaks of having at
this time
been alternately petted and punished, spoiled and hardened; but we may
well imagine
that she was a difficult child to manage on any uniform system.
Moreover, her
health was always uncertain in childhood; she was “ever sick and
dyingâ€, as she
expresses it herself, a sleep walker, and remarkable for
various
abnormal psychic peculiarities, set down by her orthodox nurses of the
Greek Church
to possession by the devil, so that she was drenched during
childhood, as
she often says, in enough holy water to have floated a ship, and
exorcised by
priests who might as well have been talking to the wind for all the
effect they
produced on her.
Some notes
concerning her childhood have been furnished, for the service of the
present
memoir, by her aunt, a lady who, as well as Madame Jelihowsky, is known
personally to
myself and to many others of Mme. Blavatsky's friends in Europe.
Her strange
excitability of temperament, still one of her most marked
characteristics,
was already manifest in her earliest youth. Even then she was
liable to
ungovernable fits of passion, and showed a deep-rooted disposition to
rebel against
every kind of authority or control. Her warm-hearted impulses of
kindliness
and affection, however, endeared her to her relatives in childhood,
much as they
have operated to obliterate the irritation caused sometimes by her
want of
self-control in regard to the minor affairs of life with the friends of
a later
period. It is justly asserted by the memoranda before me, “she has no
malice in her
nature, no lasting resentment even against those who [19]
have wronged
her, and her true kindness of heart bears no permanent traces of
momentary
disturbancesâ€.
“We who
know Madame Blavatsky wellâ€, writes her aunt, speaking for herself
and for
another relative who had joined with her in the preparation of the notes
I am now
dealing with — “we who know her now in age can speak of her with
authority,
not merely from idle report. From her earliest childhood she was
unlike any
other person. Very lively and highly gifted, full of humour, and of
most
remarkable daring; she struck everyone with astonishment by her self-willed
and
determined actions. Thus in her earliest youth and hardly married, she
disposed of
herself in an angry mood, abandoning her country, without the
knowledge of
her relatives or husband, who, unfortunately, was a man in every
way unsuited
to her, and more than thrice her age. Those who have known her from
her childhood
would — had they been born thirty years later — have also known
that it was a
fatal mistake to regard and treat her as they would any other
child. Her
restless and very nervous temperament, one that led her into the most
unheard of,
un-girlish mischief; her unaccountable — especially in those days —
attraction
to, and at the same time fear of, the dead; her passionate love and
curiosity for
everything unknown and mysterious, weird and fantastical; and,
foremost of
all, her craving for independence and freedom of action — a craving
that nothing
and nobody could control; all this, combined with an exuberance of
imagination
and a wonderful sensitiveness, ought to have warned her friends that
she was an
exceptional creature, to be dealt with and controlled by means as
exceptional.
The slightest contradiction brought on an outburst of passion,
often a fit
of convulsions. Left alone with no one near her to impede her
liberty of
action, no hand to chain her down or stop her natural impulses, and
thus arouse
to fury her inherent combativeness, she would spend hours and days
quietly
whispering, as people thought, to herself, and narrating, with no one
near her, in
some dark corner, marvellous tales of travels in bright stars and
other worlds,
which her governess [20] described as 'profane gibberish';
but no sooner
would the governess give her a distinct order to do this or the
other thing,
than her first impulse was to disobey. It was enough to forbid her
doing a thing
to make her do it, come what would. Her nurse, as indeed other
members of
the family, sincerely believed the child possessed 'the seven spirits
of
rebellion'. Her governesses were martyrs to their task, and never succeeded
in bending
her resolute will, or influencing by anything but kindness her
indomitable,
obstinate, and fearless nature.
“Spoilt in
her childhood by the adulation of dependents and the devoted
affection of
relatives, who forgave all to ' the poor, motherless child' — later
on, in her
girlhood, her self-willed temper made her rebel openly against the
exigencies of
society. She would submit to no sham respect for or fear of the
public
opinion. She would ride at fifteen, as she had at ten, any Cossack horse
on a man's
saddle! She would bow to no one, as she would recede before no
prejudice or
established conventionality. She defied all and everyone. As in her
childhood,
all her sympathies and attractions went out towards people of the
lower class.
She had always preferred to play with her servants' children rather
than with her
equals, and as a child had to be constantly watched for fear she
should escape
from the house to make friends with ragged street boys. So, later
on in life,
she continued to be drawn in sympathy towards those who were in a
humbler
station of life than herself, and showed as pronounced indifference to
the '
nobility ' to which by birth she belonged.â€
The five
years passed in safety with her grandparents seem to have had an
important
influence on her future life. Miss Jeffries had left the family; the
children had
another English governess, a timid young girl to whom none of her
pupils paid
any attention, a Swiss preceptor, and a French governess, who had
gone through
remarkable adventures in her youth. Madame Henriette Peigneur was a
distinguished
beauty in the days of the [21] first French Revolution. Her
favorite
narratives to the children consisted in the description of those days
of glory and
excitement when, chosen by the “Phrygian red-capsâ€, the
citoyens
rouges of Paris to represent in the public festivals the Goddess of
Liberty, she
had been driven in triumph, day after day, along the streets of the
grande ville
in glorious processions. The narrator herself was now a weird old
woman, bent
down by age, and looked more like the traditional Fée Carabosse than
anything
else. But her eloquence was moving, and the young girls that formed her
willing
audience were greatly excited by the glowing descriptions — most of all
the heroine
of these memoirs. She declared then and there that she meant to be a
“Goddess of
Liberty†all her life. The old governess was a strange
mixture
of severe
morality and of that brilliant flippancy that characterises almost
every
Parisienne to her deathbed unless she is a bigot — which Mme. Peigneur was
not. But
while her old husband — the charming, witty, kind-hearted Sieur
Peigneur,
ever ready to screen the young girls from his wife's pénitences and
severity —
taught them the merriest songs of Béranger, his best bons mots and
anecdotes, his
wife had no such luck with her lesson books. The opening of Noël
and Chopsal
became generally the signal for an escape to the wild woods that
surrounded
the large villa occupied by Mademoiselle Hahn's grandparents during
the summer
months. It was only when roaming at leisure in the forest, or riding
some
unmanageable horse on a Cossack's saddle, that the girl felt perfectly
happy.
For the
following interesting reminiscence of this period I am indebted to Mme.
Jelihowsky: —
“The great
country mansion (datche) occupied by us at Saratow was an old and
vast
building, full of subterranean galleries, long abandoned passages, turrets,
[22] and most
weird nooks and corners. It had been built by a family called
Pantchoolidzef,
several generations of whom had been governors at Saratow and
Penja — the
richest proprietors and noblemen of the latter province. It looked
more like a
mediaeval ruined castle than a building of the past century. The man
who took care
of the estate for the proprietors — of a type now happily rare,
who regarded
the serfs as something far lower and less precious than his hounds
— had been
known for his cruelty and tyranny, and his name was a synonym for a
curse. The
legends told of his ferocious and despotic temper, of unfortunate
serfs beaten
by him to death, and imprisoned for months in dark subterranean
dungeons,
were many and thrilling. They were repeated to us mostly by Mme.
Peigneur, who
had been for the last twenty-five years the governess of three
generations of
children in the Pantchoolidzef family. Our heads were full of
stories about
the ghosts of the martyred serfs, seen promenading in chains
during
nocturnal hours; of the phantom of a young girl, tortured to death for
refusing her
love to her old master, which was seen floating in and out of the
little
iron-bound door of the subterranean passage at twilight; and other
stories that
left us children and girls in an agony of fear whenever we had to
cross a dark
room or passage. We had been permitted to explore, under the
protection of
half-a-dozen male servants and a quantity of torches and lanterns,
those
awe-inspiring 'Catacombs'. True, we had found in them more broken wine
bottles than
human bones, and had gathered more cobwebs than iron chains, but
our
imagination suggested ghosts in every flickering shadow on the old damp
walls. Still
Helen (Mme. Blavatsky) would not remain satisfied with one solitary
visit, nor
with a second either. She had selected the uncanny region as a
Liberty Hall,
and a safe refuge where she could avoid her lessons. A long time
passed before
her secret was found out, and whenever she was found missing, a
deputation of
strong-bodied servant-men, headed by the gendarme on service in
the
Governor's Hall, was despatched in search of her, as it required no less
than one who
was not a serf and feared her little to [23] bring her
up-stairs by
force. She had erected for herself a tower out of old broken chairs
and tables in
a corner under an iron-barred window, high up in the ceiling of
the vault,
and there she would hide for hours, reading a book known as Solomon's
Wisdom, in
which every kind of popular legend was taught. Once or twice she
could hardly
be found in those damp subterranean corridors, having in her
endeavours to
escape detection lost her way in the labyrinth. For all this she
was not in
the least daunted or repentant, for, as she assured us, she was never
there alone,
but in the company of ' beings ' she used to call her little '
hunch-backs '
and playmates.
“Intensely
nervous and sensitive, speaking loud, and often walking in her
sleep, she
used to be found at nights in the most out-of-way places, and to be
carried back
to her bed profoundly asleep. Thus she was missed from her room one
night when she
was hardly twelve, and, the alarm having been given, she was
searched for
and found pacing one of the long subterranean corridors, evidently
in deep
conversation with someone invisible for all but herself. She was the
strangest
girl one has ever seen, one with a distinct dual nature in her, that
made one
think there were two beings in one and the same body; one mischievous,
combative,
and obstinate — everyway graceless; the other as mystical and
metaphysically
inclined as a seeress of Prevorst. No schoolboy was ever more
uncontrollable
or full of the most unimaginable and daring pranks and
espiègleries
than she was. At the same time, when the paroxysm of
mischief-making
had run its course, no old scholar could be more assiduous in
his study,
and she could not be prevailed to give up her books, which she would
devour night
and day as long as the impulse lasted. The enormous library of her
grandparents
seemed then hardly large enough to satisfy her cravings.
“Attached
to the residence there was a large abandoned garden, a park rather,
full of
ruined kiosks, pagodas, and out-buildings, which, running up hillward,
ended in a
virgin forest, whose hardly visible paths were covered knee-deep with
moss, and
with thickets in it which perhaps no human foot had disturbed for
centuries.
[24] It was reputed the hiding-place for all the runaway
criminals and
deserters, and it was there that Helen used to take refuge, when
the '
catacombs' had ceased to assure her safety.â€
Her strange
temperament and character are thus described in a work called
Juvenile
Recollections Compiled for my Children, by Mme. Jelihowsky, a thick
volume of
charming stories selected by the author from the diary kept by herself
during her
girlhood: —
“Fancy, or
that which we all regarded in these days as fancy, was developed in
the most
extraordinary way, and from her earliest childhood, in my sister Helen.
For hours at
times she used to narrate to us younger children, and even to her
seniors in
years, the most incredible stories with the cool assurance and
conviction of
an eye-witness, and one who knew what she was talking about. When
a child,
daring and fearless in everything else, she got often scared into fits
through her own
hallucinations. She felt certain of being persecuted by what she
called ' the
terrible glaring eyes,' invisible to everyone else, and often
attributed by
her to the most inoffensive inanimate objects; an idea that
appeared
quite ridiculous to the bystanders. As to herself, she would shut her
eyes tight
during such visions, and run away to hide from the ghostly glances
thrown on her
by pieces of furniture or articles of dress, screaming
desperately, and
frightening the whole household. At other times she would be
seized with
fits of laughter, explaining them by the amusing pranks of her
invisible
companions. She found these in every dark corner, in every bush of the
thick park
that surrounded our villa during the summer months ; while in winter,
when all our
family emigrated back to town, she seemed to meet them again in the
vast
reception rooms of the first floor, entirely deserted from midnight till
morning,
Every locked door notwithstanding, Helen was found several times during
the night
hours in those dark apartments in a half-conscious state, sometimes
fast asleep,
[25] and unable to say how she got there from our common
bedroom on
the top story. She disappeared in the same mysterious manner in
daytime also.
Searched for, called and hunted after, she would be often
discovered,
with great pains, in the most unfrequented localities; once it was
in the dark
loft, under the very roof, to which she was traced, amid pigeons'
nests, and
surrounded by hundreds of those birds. She was ' putting them to
sleep '
(according to the rules taught in Solomon's Wisdom], as she explained.
[And, indeed
pigeons were found if not asleep still unable to move, and as
though
stunned in her lap at such times.] At other times behind the gigantic
cupboards
that contained our grandmother's zoological collection — the old
princess's
museum of natural history having achieved a wide renown in Russia in
those days, —
surrounded by relics of fauna, flora, and historical antiquities,
amid
antediluvian bones of stuffed animals and monstrous birds, the deserter
would be
found, after hours of search, in deep conversations with seals and
stuffed
crocodiles. If one could believe Helen, the pigeons were cooing to her
interesting
fairy tales, while birds and animals, whenever in solitary
tête-à-tête
with her, amused her with interesting stories, presumably from their
own
autobiographies. For her all nature seemed animated with a mysterious life
of its own.
She heard the voice of every object and form, whether organic or
inorganic;
and claimed consciousness and being, not only for some mysterious
powers
visible and audible for herself alone in what was to everyone else empty
space, but
even for visible but inanimate things such as pebbles, mounds, and
pieces of
decaying phosphorescent timber.
“With a
view of adding specimens to the remarkable entomological collection of
our
grandmother, as much as for our own instruction and pleasure, diurnal as
well as
nocturnal expeditions were often arranged. We preferred the latter, as
they were
more exciting, and had a mysterious charm to us about them. We knew of
no greater
enjoyment. Our delightful travels in the neighbouring woods would
last from 9
P.M. till I, and often 2, [26] o'clock A.M. We prepared for
them with an
earnestness that the Crusaders may have experienced when setting
out to fight
the infidel and dislodge the Turk from Palestine. The children of
friends and
acquaintances in town were invited — boys and girls from twelve to
seventeen,
and two or three dozen of young serfs of both sexes, all armed with
gauze nets
and lanterns, as we were ourselves, strengthened our ranks. In the
rear followed
a dozen of strong grown-up servants, cossacks, and even a gendarme
or two, armed
with real weapons for our safety and protection. It was a merry
procession as
we set out on it, with beating hearts, and bent with unconscious
cruelty on
the destruction of the beautiful large night-butterflies for which
the forests
of the Volga province are so famous. The foolish insects, flying in
masses, would
soon cover the glasses of our lanterns, and ended their ephemeral
lives on long
pins and cork burial grounds four inches square. But even in this
my eccentric
sister asserted her independence. She would protect and save from
death all
those dark butterflies — known as sphynxes —whose dark fur-covered
heads and
bodies bore the distinct images of a white human skull. ' Nature
having imprinted
on each of them the portrait of the skull of some great dead
hero, these
butterflies are sacred, and must not be killed,' she said, speaking
like some
heathen fetish-worshipper. She got very angry when we would not listen
to her, but
would go on chasing those ' dead heads' as we called them; and
maintained
that by so doing we disturbed the rest of the defunct persons whose
skulls were
imprinted on the bodies of the weird insects.
“No less
interesting were our day-travels into regions more or less distant.
At about ten
versts from the Governor's villa there was a field, an extensive
sandy tract
of land, evidently once upon a time the bottom of a sea or a great
lake, as its
soil yielded petrified relics of fishes, shells, and teeth of some
(to us)
unknown monsters. Most of these relics were broken and mangled by time,
but one could
often find whole stones of various sizes on which were imprinted
figures of
fishes and plants and animals of kinds now wholly extinct, but [
27] which
proved their undeniable antediluvian origin. The marvellous and
sensational
stories that we, children and schoolgirls, heard from Helen during
that epoch
were countless. I well remember when stretched at full length on the
ground, her
chin reclining on her two palms, and her two elbows buried deep in
the soft
sand, she used to dream aloud and tell us of her visions, evidently
clear, vivid,
and as palpable as life to her! . . . How lovely the description
she gave us
of the submarine life of all those beings, the mingled remains of
which were
now crumbling to dust around us. How vividly she described their past
fights and
battles on the spot where she lay, assuring us she saw it all; and
how minutely
she drew on the sand with her finger the fantastic forms of the
long-dead
sea-monsters, and made us almost see the very colours of the fauna and
flora of
those dead regions. While listening eagerly to her descriptions of the
lovely azure
waves reflecting the sunbeams playing in rainbow light on the
golden sands
of the sea bottom, of the coral reefs and stalactite caves, of the
sea-green
grass mixed with the delicate shining anemones, we fancied we felt
ourselves the
cool, velvety waters caressing our bodies, and the latter
transformed
into pretty and frisky sea-monsters; our imagination galloped off
with her
fancy to a full oblivion of the present reality. She never spoke in
later years
as she used to speak in her childhood and early girlhood. The stream
of her
eloquence has dried up, and the very source of her inspiration is now
seemingly
lost! She had a strong power of carrying away her audiences with her,
of making
them see actually, if even vaguely, that which she herself saw. . . .
Once she
frightened all of us youngsters very nearly into fits. We had just been
transported
into a fairy world, when suddenly she changed her narrative from the
past to the
present tense, and began to ask us to imagine that all that which
she had told
us of the cool, blue waves with their dense populations was around
us, only
invisible and intangible, so far. . . . 'Just fancy! A miracle!' she
said ; ' the
earth suddenly opening, the air condensing around us and rebecoming
sea
waves.....Look, look there, they begin already appearing and moving. [
28] We are
surrounded with water, we are right amid the mysteries and the
wonders of a
submarine world ! . . .'
“She had
started from the sand, and was speaking with such conviction, her
voice had
such a ring of real amazement, horror, and her childish face wore such
a look of a
wild joy and terror at the same time, that when, suddenly covering
her eyes with
both hands, as she used to do in her excited moments, she fell
down on the
sand screaming at the top of her voice, 'There's the wave . . . it
has come! . .
. The sea, the sea, we are drowning !' . . . Every one of us fell
down on our
faces, as desperately screaming and as fully convinced that the sea
had engulfed
us, and that we were no more! . .
“It was her
delight to gather around herself a party of us younger children at
twilight,
and, after taking us into the large dark museum, to hold us there,
spell-bound,
with her weird stories. Then she narrated to us the most
inconceivable
tales about herself; the most unheard of adventures of which she
was the
heroine, every night, as she explained. Each of the stuffed animals in
the museum
had taken her in turn into its confidence, had divulged to her the
history of
its life in previous incarnations or existences. Where had she heard
of
reincarnation, or who could have taught her anything of the superstitious
mysteries of
metempsychosis, in a Christian family ? Yet she would stretch
herself on
her favourite animal, a gigantic stuffed seal, and caressing its
silvery, soft
white skin, she would repeat to us his adventures, as told to her
by himself,
in such glowing colours and eloquent style, that even grown-up
persons found
themselves interested involuntarily in her narratives. They all
listened to,
and were carried away by the charm of her recitals, the younger
audience
believing every word she uttered. Never can I forget the life and
adventures of
a tall white flamingo, who stood in unbroken contemplation behind
the glass
panes of a large cupboard, with his two scarlet-lined wings widely
opened as
though ready to take flight, yet chained to his prison cell. He had
been ages
ago, she told us, no bird, but a real man. He had committed fearful
crimes and a
murder, for which a great genius had changed him into [29] a
flamingo, a
brainless bird, sprinkling his two wings with the blood of his
victims, and
thus condemning him to wander for ever in deserts and marshes. . .
.
“I dreaded
that flamingo fearfully. At dusk, whenever I chanced to pass
through the
museum to say goodnight to our grandmother, who rarely left her
study, an
adjoining room, I tried to avoid seeing the blood-covered murderer by
shutting my
eyes and running quickly by.
“If Helen
loved to tell us stories, she was still more passionately fond of
listening to
other people's fairy tales. There was, among the numerous servants
of the Fadeef
family, an old woman, an under-nurse, who was famous for telling
them. The
catalogue of her tales was endless, and her memory retained every idea
connected
with superstition. During the long summer twilights on the green
grassy lawn
under the fruit trees of the garden, or during the still longer
winter
evenings, crowding around the flaming fire of our nursery-room, we used
to cling to
the old woman, and felt supremely happy whenever she could be
prevailed
upon to tell us some of those popular fairy tales, for which our
northern
country is so famous. The adventures of' Ivan Zarewitch,' of' Kashtey
the
Immortal,' of the 'Gray-Wolf', the wicked magician travelling in the air in
a self-moving
seive; or those of Meletressa, the Fair Princess, shut up in a
dungeon until
the Zarevitch unlocks its prison door with a gold key, and
liberates her
— delighted us all. Only, while all we children forgot those tales
as easily as
we had learned them, Helen never either forgot the stories or
consented to
recognise them as fictions. She thoroughly took to heart all the
troubles of
the heroes, and maintained that all their most wonderful adventures
were quite
natural. People could change into animals and take any form they
liked, if
they only knew how; men could fly, if they only wished so firmly. Such
wise men had
existed in all ages, and existed even in our own days, she assured
us, making
themselves known, of course, only to those who were worthy of knowing
and seeing
them, and who believed in, instead of laughing at, them. . . .
“As a proof
of what she said, she pointed to an old man, a centenarian, who
lived not far
from the villa, in [30] a wild ravine of a neighbouring
forest, known
as 'Baranig Bouyrak'. The old man was a real magician, in the
popular
estimation; a sorcerer of a good, benevolent kind, who cured willingly
all the patients
who applied to him, but who also knew how to punish with
disease those
who had sinned. He was greatly versed in the knowledge of the
occult
properties of plants and flowers, and could read the future, it was said.
He kept
beehives in great numbers, his hut being surrounded by several hundreds
of them.
During the long summer afternoons he could be always found at his post,
slowly
walking among his favourites, covered as with a living cuirass, from head
to foot, with
swarms of buzzing bees, plunging both his hands with impunity into
their
dwellings, listening to their deafening noise, and apparently answering
them — their
buzzing almost ceasing whenever he addressed them in his (to us)
incomprehensible
tongue, a kind of chanting and muttering. Evidently the
golden-winged
labourers and their centenarian master understood each other's
languages. Of
the latter, Helen felt quite sure. ' Baranig Bouyrak' had an
irresistible
attraction for her, and she visited the strange old man whenever
she could find
a chance to do so. Once there, she would put questions and listen
to the old
man's replies and explanations as to how to understand the language
of bees,
birds, and animals with a passionate earnestness. The dark ravine
seemed in her
eyes a fairy kingdom. As to the centenarian ' wise-man', he used
to say of her
constantly to us: ' This little lady is quite different from all
of you. There
are great events lying in wait for her in the future. I feel sorry
in thinking
that I will not live to see my predictions of her verified; but they
will all come
to pass! . . .' â€
It would be
impossible to write even a slight sketch of Mme. Blavatsky's life
without
alluding continually to the occult theories on which her own
psychological
development turns, and I think the narrative will be rendered most
intelligible
if I frankly explain some of [31] these at the outset, without
here being
supposed to argue the question as to whether these theories rest upon
a correct
appreciation of natural laws (operating above and within those of
physical
existence), or whether they constitute an exclusive hallucination to
which her
mind has been subject. It will be seen, at all events, that, according
to such a
view, the hallucination has been very protracted and coherent, so much
so that, as I
say, the life which has been entirely subordinate to the career
marked out
for it by those to whom Mme. Blavatsky believes herself, and always
has believed
herself, guided and protected, would be meaningless without
reference to
this vitalising thread running through it. Of course I have no wish
to disguise
my own adhesion to the view of nature on which Mme. Blavatsky's
theory of
life rests, nor my own conviction concerning the real existence of the
living Adepts
of occult science with whom I believe Mme. Blavatsky, throughout
her life, to
have been more or less closely associated. But to argue the matter
would convert
this memoir into a philosophical treatise going over a great deal
of ground
more fitly traversed in works of a purely theosophical character. It
will be
enough for my present purpose to expound the theory on which, as I say,
Mme.
Blavatsky's comprehension of her own life rests, merely for the sake of
rendering the
story which has to be set forth intelligible to the reader.
The primary
conception of oriental occultism, in reference to the human soul,
recognises it
as an entity, a moral and intellectual centre of consciousness,
which not
only survives the death of any physical body in which it may be
functioning
at any given time, but has also enjoyed many periods of both
physical and
spiritual existence before its incarnation in that body. In fact,
[32] the
entity — the real individual according to this view — may be
identified by
persons with psychic faculties sufficiently developed through a
series of
lives, and not merely in reference to one. The view of Nature I am
describing —
the Esoteric Doctrine — quite sufficiently accounts for the fact
that, from
the point of view of any given body, no incarnated person can command
a prospect of
the life-series through which he may have passed. Each
incarnation,
each successive life of the series, is a descent into matter from
the point of
view of the real spiritual entity: a descent into a new organism in
which the
entity — which is only altogether its true or higher self on the
spiritual
plane of Nature — may function with greater or less success according
to the
qualifications of the organism. The organism only remembers, with
specific
detail, the incidents of its own objective life. The true entity
animating
that organism may perhaps retain the capacity of remembering a great
deal more,
but not through the organism. Moreover, until the organism is
complete —
that is to say, until the person concerned is grown up — the true
entity is
only immersed in it — if I may employ a materialistic illustration to
suggest the
idea which would be only fully expressible m metaphysical language
of great
elaboration — to a limited extent. The quite young child, as we
ordinarily
phrase it, is not a morally responsible being: that is to say, the
organism has
not attained a development in which the moral sense of the true
entity can
function through the physical brain and direct physical acts. But the
young child
is already marked out as in process of becoming the efficient
habitat of
the entity or soul that has begun to function through its organism;
and,
therefore, if we imagine that there are in the world living men — adepts in
the direction
of forces on the [33] higher planes of Nature with which
physical
science is not yet acquainted — we shall readily understand the
peculiar relations
that exist between them and a child in process of growing up,
and gradually
taking into itself a soul that such adepts are already in
relations
with.
Let me repeat
that this mere statement of the occult science view of human
nature is not
put forward as a proof that things are so; but simply because that
theory of
things will be found a continuous thread upon which the facts of Mme.
Blavatsky's
life are strung. It may be that, as the story goes on, some readers
will develop
other theories to account for them, but all I have to say would
appear
disjointed and incoherent without this brief explanation, while it
becomes, at
all events, clearly intelligible with that clue to its successive
incidents.
In this way I
proceed to assume, as a working hypothesis, that even in childhood
Mademoiselle
Hahn was under the protection of a certain abnormal agency capable
even of
producing results on the physical plane when in extraordinary
emergencies
these were called for. For example, I have more than once heard her
tell a story
of her childhood's days about a great curiosity she entertained in
reference to
a certain picture — the portrait of one of the ancestors of the
family —
which hung up in the castle where her grandfather lived, at Saratow,
with a
curtain before it. It hung at a great height above the ground in a lofty
room, and
Mademoiselle Hahn was a small mite at the time, though very resolute
when her mind
was set upon a purpose. She had been denied permission to see the
picture, so
she waited for an opportunity when the coast was clear, and
proceeded to
take her own measures for compassing [34] her design. She
dragged a
table to the wall, and contrived to set another small table on that,
and a chair
on the top of all, and then gradually succeeded in mounting up on
this unstable
edifice. She could just manage to reach the picture from this
point of
vantage, and leaning with one hand against the dusty wall, contrived
with the
other to draw back the curtain. The effect wrought upon her by the
sight of the
picture was startling, and the momentary movement back upset her
frail
platform. But exactly what occurred she does not know. She lost
consciousness
from the moment she staggered and began to fall, and when she
recovered her
senses she was lying quite unhurt on the floor, the tables and
chair were
back again in their usual places, the curtain had been run back upon
its rings,
and she would have imagined the whole incident some unusual kind of
dream but for
the fact that the mark of her small hand remained imprinted on the
dusty wall
high up beside the picture.
On another
occasion again her life seems to have been saved under peculiar
circumstances,
at a time when she was approaching fourteen. A horse bolted with
her — she
fell, with her foot entangled in the stirrup, and before the horse was
stopped she
ought, she thinks, to have been killed outright but for a strange
sustaining
power she distinctly felt around her, which seemed to hold her up in
defiance of
gravitation. If anecdotes of this surprising kind were few and far
between in
Mme Blavatsky's life I should suppress them in attempting to edit her
memoirs, but,
as will be seen later, they form the staple of the narratives
which each
person in turn, who has anything to say about her, comes forward to
tell. The
records of her return to Russia after her first long wanderings are
full of
evidence, [35] given by her relatives, compared to which these
little
anecdotes of her childhood told by herself sink into insignificance as
marvels. I
refer to them, moreover, not for their own sake, but, as I began by
saying, to
illustrate the relations which appear to have existed in her early
childhood
between herself and those whom she speaks of as her “Mastersâ€,
unseen in
body, unknown by her at that time as living men, but not unknown to
the visions
with which her child-life was filled.
In the
narrative quoted above, it will have been seen that she was often noticed
by her
friends sitting apart in corners, when she was not interfered with,
apparently
talking to herself. By her own account she was at this time talking
with
playmates of her own size and apparent age, who to her were as real in
appearance as
if they had been flesh and blood, though they were not visible at
all to anyone
else about her. Mademoiselle Hahn used to be exceedingly annoyed
at the
persistent way in which her nurses and relatives refused to take any
notice
whatever of one little hunchback boy who was her favourite companion at
this time.
Nobody else was able to take notice of him, for nobody else saw him,
but to the
abnormally gifted child he was a visible, audible, and amusing
companion,
though one who seems to have led her into endless mischief. But
amidst the
strange double life she thus led from her earliest recollections, she
would
sometimes have visions of a mature protector, whose imposing appearance
dominated her
imagination from a very early period. This protector was always
the same, his
features never changed ; in after life she met him as a living
man, and knew
him as though she had been brought up in his presence.
Students of
spiritualism, of occultism, of clairvoyance [36] will find this
record
strangely confused at the first glance, but I think, by the light of what
I have said
above in reference to the occult theory of incarnation, people who
hold that
theory will be excused for thinking that they see their way through
the
entanglement pretty clearly. Mademoiselle Hahn was born, of course, with all
the
characteristics of what is known in spiritualism as mediumship in the most
extraordinary
degree, also with gifts as a clairvoyant of an almost equally
unexampled
order. And as a child, the time had not come at which it would have
been possible
for the occult protectors of the entity thus beginning to function
in that
organism to set on foot any of those processes of physical training by
which such
natural gifts can be tamed, disciplined, and utilised. They had to
run wild for
a time; thus we find Mademoiselle Hahn — looking at her childhood's
history from
the psychological point of view — surrounded by all, or a large
number of the
usual phenomena of mediumship, and also visibly under the
observation
and occasional guardianship of the authorities to whose service her
mature
faculties were altogether given over, to the absolute repression in after
life of the
casual faculties of mediumship.
Her friends
were half-interested, half-terrified by those of her manifestations
which they
could understand sufficiently to observe. Her aunt says that from the
age of four
years “she was a somnambulist and somniloquent. She would hold, in
her sleep,
long conversations with unseen personages, some of which were
amusing, some
edifying, some terrifying for those who gathered around the
child's bed.
On various occasions, while apparently in the ordinary sleep, she
would answer
questions, put by persons who took hold [37] of her hand,
about lost
property or other subjects of momentary anxiety, as though she were a
sibyl
entranced. Sometimes she would be missing from the nursery, and be found
in some
distant room of the mansion, or in the garden, playing and talking with
companions of
her dream-life. For years, in childish impulse, she would shock
strangers
with whom she came in contact, and visitors to the house, by looking
them intently
in the face and telling them that they would die at such and such
a time, or
she would prophesy to them some accident or misfortune that would
befall them.
And since her prognostications usually came true, she was the
terror, in
this respect, of the domestic circle.â€
In 1844, the
middle of the period during which she was growing up from childhood
to girlhood
at Saratow, her father took her on her first journey abroad. She
accompanied
him to Paris and London, a child of fourteen, but a troublesome
charge even
then and even for him, though in her father's hands she was docile
from the
point of view of her demeanour in any other custody. One object of the
visit to
London was to get her some good music lessons, for she showed great
natural
talents as a pianist — which indeed have lingered about her in later
life, though
often in total abeyance for many years together. She had some
lessons from
Moscheles, and even, I understand, played a duet at a private
concert with
a then celebrated professional pianist. Colonel Hahn and his
daughter went
to stay for a week in Bath during this visit to England, but the
only striking
feature of this excursion that I can hear of had to do with a
little
difficulty that arose between mademoiselle and her father on the subject
of riding.
She wanted to go on a man's saddle, Cossack fashion, as she had been
used [38] to,
in face of all protests to the contrary, in Saratow. The
Colonel would
not tolerate this, so there was a scene, and a fit of hysterics on
the part of
the young lady, followed by an attack of some more serious illness.
He is
represented as having been well satisfied to get her home again, and lodge
her once more
in the congenial wilds of Asia Minor. Her pride in another
accomplishment,
her knowledge of the English language, received a rude shock
during this
early visit to London. She had been taught to speak English by her
first
governess, Miss Jeffries, but in Southern Russia people did not make the
fine
distinctions between different sorts of English which more fastidious
linguists are
alive to. The English governess had been a Yorkshire woman, and as
soon as
Mademoiselle Hahn began to open her lips among friends to whom she was
introduced in
London, she found her remarks productive of much more amusement
than their
substance justified. The combination of accents she employed —
Yorkshire
grafted on Ekaterinoslow — must have had a comical effect, no doubt,
but Mdlle
Hahn soon came to the conclusion that she had done enough for the
entertainment
of her friends, and would give forth her “hollow o's and a'sâ€
no more. With
her natural talent for speaking foreign tongues, however, she set
her
conversation in another key by the time she next visited England in
1851.[39]
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL
CHAPTER 2
MARRIAGE AND
TRAVEL
THE marriage
by which Mdlle Hahn acquired the name she has since been known by
took place in
1848. She was then, it will be seen, about seventeen, and General
Blavatsky to
whom she was united — as far as the ceremonies of the Church were
concerned —
was, at all events, a man of advanced age. Madame herself believed
that he was
nearer seventy than sixty. He was himself reluctant to acknowledge
to more than
about fifty. Other matrimonial opportunities of a far more
attractive
character were, as I now learn from her relatives, open to her really
at the time,
but these would have rendered the marriage state, had she entered
it with some
of her younger admirers, a much more serious matter than she
designed it
to be in her case. Her demeanor, therefore, with the most desirable
of her
suitors was purposely intolerable. The actual adventure on which she
launched
herself — for in its precipitation and brevity it may fairly be
described by
that phrase — seems to have been brought about by a combination of
circumstances
that could only have influenced a girl of Mademoiselle Hahn's wild
temper and
irregular training. Her aunt describes the manner in which the
marriage was
arranged as follows : —
“She cared
not whether she should get married or not. She had been simply
defied one
day by her governess to find any man who would be her husband, in
view of her
[40] temper and disposition. The governess, to emphasize the
taunt, said
that even the old man she had found so ugly, and had laughed at so
much, calling
him 'a plume-less raven' — that even he would decline her for a
wife! That
was enough: three days after she made him propose, and then,
frightened at
what she had done, sought to escape from her joking acceptance of
his offer.
But it was too late. Hence the fatal step. All she knew and
understood
was — when too late — that she had been accepting, and was now forced
to accept — a
master she cared nothing for, nay, that she hated; that she was
tied to him
by the law of the country, hand and foot. A 'great horror ' crept
upon her, as
she explained it later ; one desire, ardent, unceasing,
irresistible,
got hold of her entire being, led her on, so to say, by the hand,
forcing her
to act instinctively, as she would have done if, in the act of
saving her
life, she had been running away from a mortal danger. There had been
a distinct
attempt to impress her with the solemnity of marriage, with her
future
obligations and her duties to her husband, and married life. A few hours
later, at the
altar, she heard the priest saying to her: 'Thou shalt honour and
obey thy
husband', and at this hated word 'shalt,' her young face — for she was
hardly
seventeen — was seen to flush angrily, then to become deadly pale. She
was overheard
to mutter in response, through her set teeth —' Surely, I shall
not.' â€
And surely
she has not. Forthwith she determined to take the law and her future
life into her
own hands, and — he left her ' husband ' for ever, without giving
him any
opportunity to ever even think of her as his wife.
“Thus Mme.
Blavatsky abandoned her country at seventeen, and passed ten long
years in
strange and out-of-the-way places — in Central Asia, India, South
America,
Africa, and Eastern Europe.â€
At the time
the marriage took place, Mademoiselle Hahn was staying with her
grandmother
and some other relatives at Djellallogly, a mountain retreat
frequented in
the summer by the residents of Tiflis. The young lady herself had
never
intended to do more than establish the [41] fact that General
Blavatsky
would be ready to marry her, but with an engagement regularly set on
foot,
announced in the family, proclaimed to friends, and so forth, with
“congratulations†coming in, and the bridegroom claiming its
fulfilment, a
restoration
of the status quo was found by the reckless heroine of the
complication
more easily talked about than obtained. Her friends protested
against the
scandal that would be created if the engagement were broken off for
no apparent
reason. Pressed to go on with the wedding, she seems to have
consoled
herself with the belief that she would be securing herself increased
liberty of
action as a married woman than ever she could compass as a girl. Her
father was
altogether off the scene, far away with his regiment in Russia, and
though
consulted by letter, was not sufficiently acquainted with the facts of
the case to
take up any decided attitude either way. The ceremony of the
marriage, at
all events, duly took place on the 7th of July 1848.
Of course the
theories concerning the married state entertained by General
Blavatsky and
his abnormally natured young bride differed toto coelo, and came
into violent
conflict from the day of the wedding — a day of unforeseen
revelations,
furious indignation, dismay, and belated repentance. Nothing was
ever imagined
in fiction more extravagant than the progress of the brief and
stormy though
imperfect partnership. The intelligent reader will understand that
a born
occultist like Mademoiselle Hahn could never have plunged into a
relationship
so intolerable, so impossible for her, as that of husband and wife
if she had
understood on the ordinary plane of human affairs what she was about.
The day after
the wedding she was conducted by the General to a place called
Daretchichag,
a summer retreat for Erivan residents. She tried already on this
journey to
make [42] her escape towards the Persian frontier, but the
Cossack she
sought to win over as her guide in this enterprise betrayed her
instead to
the General, and she was carefully guarded. The cavalcade duly
reached the
residence of the governor — the scene of his peculiar honeymoon.
Certainly the
position in which he was placed commands our retrospective
sympathy for
some reasons ; but it is impossible to go into a discussion of
details that
might go far to qualify this. For three months the newly married
couple
remained together under the same roof, each fighting for impossible
concessions,
and then at last, in connection with a quarrel more violent even
than the
rest, the young lady took horse on her own account and rode to Tiflis.
Family
councils followed, and it was settled that the unmanageable bride should
be sent to
join her father. He arranged to meet her at Odessa, and she was
despatched in
the care of an old servant-man and a maid, to catch at Poti a
steamer that
would take her to her destination. But her desperate passion for
adventure,
coupled with apprehensions that her father might endeavour to
refasten the
broken links of her nuptial bond, led her to design in her own mind
an amendment
to this programme. She so contrived matters on the journey through
Georgia, to
begin with, that she and her escort missed the steamer at Poti. But
a small
English sailing vessel was lying in the harbour. Mme. Blavatsky went on
board this
vessel — the Commodore she believes was the name, and, by a liberal
outlay of
roubles, persuaded the skipper to fall in with her plans. The
Commodore was
bound first to Kertch, then to Taganrog in the Sea of Azof, and
ultimately to
Constantinople. Mme. Blavatsky took passage for herself and
servants,
ostensibly to Kertch. On arriving there, she sent the servants ashore
to procure
apartments and prepare for her landing [43] the following
morning. But
in the night, having now shaken herself free of the last restraints
that
connected her with her past life, she sailed away in the Commodore for
Taganrog in
the first instance, as the vessel had business at that port, and
afterwards
returning to the Black Sea, for Constantinople.
The little
voyage itself seems to have been full of adventures, which, in
dealing with
a life less crowded with adventures all through, than Mme.
Blavatsky's
one would stop to chronicle. The harbour police of Taganrog visiting
the Commodore
on her arrival, had to be so managed as not to suspect that an
extra person
was on board. The only available hiding place — amongst the coals —
was found
unattractive by the passenger, and was assigned to the cabin boy,
whose
personality she borrowed for the occasion, being stowed away in a bunk on
pretence of
illness. Later on, when the vessel arrived at Constantinople,
further
embarrassments had developed themselves, and she had to fly ashore
precipitately
in a caique with the connivance of the steward to escape the
persecutions
of the skipper. At Constantinople, however, she had the good
fortune to
fall in with a Russian lady of her acquaintance, the Countess K-----,
with whom she
formed a safe intimacy, and travelled for a time in Egypt, Greece,
and other parts
of Eastern Europe.
Unfortunately,
it is impossible for me to do more than sketch the period of her
life that we
now approach in the meagrest outline. For the full details of her
childhood
given in the foregoing pages, we are indebted to her relatives. She
herself,
though frequently able to tell disjointed anecdotes of her childhood,
could never
have put together so connected a narrative as that obtained from
Mme.
Jelihowsky, and there was no sister at hand to keep a record of her
subsequent adventures
during her [44] wanderings all over the world. She
never kept
diaries during this period, and memory at a distance of time is a
very
uncertain guide, but if the present record is uneven in its treatment of
various
periods, I can only point in excuse for this to the obvious
embarrassments
of my task.
In Egypt,
while travelling with the Countess K-----, Mme. Blavatsky already
began to pick
up some occult teaching, though of a very different and inferior
order from
that she acquired later. At that time there was an old Copt at Cairo,
a man very
well and widely known ; of considerable property and influence, and
of a great
reputation as a magician. The tales of wonder told about him by
popular
report were very thrilling. Mme. Blavatsky seems to have been a pupil
who readily
attracted his interest, and was enthusiastic in imbibing his
instruction.
She fell in with him again in later years, and spent some time with
him at
Boulak, but her acquaintance with him in the beginning did not last long,
as she was
only at that time in Egypt for about three months. With an English
lady of rank
whom she met during this period she also travelled for a time. Her
relatives at
Tiflis had lost all traces of her from the time the deserted
servants at
Kertch reported her disappearance, but she herself communicated
privately
with her father, and secured his consent to her vague programme of
foreign
travel. He realised the impossibility of inducing her to resume the
broken thread
of her married life; and, indeed, considering all that had passed,
it is not
unreasonable to suppose that General Blavatsky himself was ready to
acquiesce in
the separation. He endeavoured, indeed, to obtain a formal divorce
on the ground
that his marriage had never been more than a form, and that his
wife had run
away; but Russian law at the time was not favourable to divorce,
and the [45]
attempt failed. Colonel Hahn, however, supplied his fugitive
daughter with
money, and kept her counsel in regard to her subsequent movements.
Ten years
elapsed before she again saw her relatives, and her restless eagerness
for travel
carried her during this period to all parts of the world. She kept no
diary, and at
this distance of time can give no very connected story of these
complicated
wanderings. Within about a year of their commencement she seems to
have been in
Paris, where she was intimate with many literary celebrities of the
time, and
where a famous mesmerist, still living as I write, though an old man
now,
discovered her wonderful psychic gifts, and was very eager to retain her
under his
control as a sensitive. But the chains had not yet been forged that
could make
her prisoner, and she quitted Paris precipitately to escape this
influence.
She went over to London, and passed some time in company with an old
Russian lady
of her acquaintance, the Countess B------, at Mivart's Hotel, whom,
however, she
out-stayed in London, remaining there in company with the
Countess's
demoiselle de compagnie in a big hotel, she says, somewhere between
the City and
the Strand, “but as to names or numbers, you might as well ask me
to tell you
what was the number of the house you lived in in your last
incarnation.â€
Connected as
she was in Russia, she naturally met a good many of her own
countrymen
abroad with whom she was either already acquainted, or who were glad
to befriend
her. Sometimes, when circumstances were favourable, she would travel
with
companions thus thrown in her way, at other times altogether alone. Her
craving for
adventure and for all strange and outlandish places and people was
quite
unsatiable. Her first long flight abroad was prompted by a passionate
[46]
enthusiasm for the North American Indians, contracted from the perusal
of Fennimore
Cooper's novels. After a little minor touring about Europe with the
Countess
B------ in 1850, she welcomed the New Year of 1851 at Paris, and in the
July of that
year went in pursuit of the Red Indians of her imagination to
Canada.
Fortunately her illusion on the subject of these heroes was destined to
an early
dissipation. At Quebec (she believes it was) a party of Indians were
introduced to
her. She was delighted to encounter the sons of the forest, and
even the
daughters thereof, their squaws. With some of these she settled down
for a long
gossip over the mysterious doings of the medicine men. Eventually
they
disappeared, and with them various articles of Madame's personal property —
especially a
pair of boots that she greatly prized, and which the resources of
Quebec in
those days could not replace. The Red Indian of actual fact thus
ruined the
ideal she had constructed in her fancy. She gave up her search for
their
wigwams, and developed a new programme. In the first instance, she thought
she would try
to come to close quarters with the Mormons, then beginning to
excite public
attention; but their original city, Nauvoo, in Missouri, had just
been
destroyed by the unruly mob of their less industrious and less prosperous
neighbours,
and the survivors of the massacre in which so many of their people
fell were
then streaming across the desert in search of a new home. Mme.
Blavatsky
thought that under these circumstances Mexico looked an inviting
region in
which to risk her life next, and she made her way, in the meanwhile,
to New
Orleans.
This
apparently hasty sketch will give the reader no idea of the difficulty with
which she
has, at this long subsequent period, recalled even so much as is here
set [47]
down. It has only been by help of public events that she can
remember to
have heard about at such and such places that I have been enabled to
construct a
skeleton diary of her wanderings, on which here and there her
recollections
enable me to put a little flesh and blood At New Orleans the
principal
interest of her visit centred in the Voodoos, a sect of negroes,
natives of
the West Indies, and half-castes, addicted to a form of magic
practices
that no highly-trained occult student would have anything to do with,
but which
nevertheless presented attractions to Mme. Blavatsky, not yet far
advanced
enough in the knowledge held in reserve for her, to distinguish
“black†from “white†varieties of
mystic exercise. The Voodoos'
pretensions
were of course discredited by the educated white population of New
Orleans, but
they were none the less shunned and feared. Mme. Blavatsky might
have been
drawn dangerously far into association with them, fascinated as her
imagination
was liable to become by occult mysteries of any kind; but the
strange
guardianship that had so often asserted itself to her advantage during
her childhood
— which had by this time assumed a more definite shape, for she
had now met,
as a living man the long familiar figure of her visions — again
come to her
rescue. She was warned in a vision of the risk she was running with
the Voodoos,
and at once moved off to fresh fields and pastures new.
She went
through Texas to Mexico, and contrived to see a good deal of that
insecure
country, protected in these hazardous travels by her own reckless
daring, and
by various people who from time to time interested themselves in her
welfare. She
speaks with special gratitude of an old Canadian, a man known as
Père
Jacques, whom she met in Texas, where at the time she was quite without
any
companionship. He saw her [48] safely through some perils to which she
was then
exposed, and thus by hook or by crook Madame always managed to scramble
along
unscathed; though it seems miraculous in the retrospect that she should
have been
able — young woman at that time as she was — to lead the wild life on
which she was
embarked without actually incurring disasters. There was no
reliance in
her case, as in that of Moore's heroine, on “Erin's honour and
Erin's
prideâ€. She passed through rough communities of all kinds, savage as
well as
civilised, and seems to have been guarded from harm, as assuredly she
was guarded,
by the sheer force of her own fearlessness, and her fierce scorn
for all
considerations however remotely associated with the “magnetism of
sexâ€.
During her
American travels, which for this period lasted about a year, she was
lucky enough
to receive a considerable legacy bequeathed her by one of her
godmothers.
This put her splendidly in funds for a time, though it is much to be
regretted on
her account that the money was not served out to her in moderate
instalments,
for the temperament, which the facts of her life so far even will
have
revealed, may easily be recognised as one not likely to go with habits of
prudent
expenditure. Madame, in the course of her adventures, has often shown
that she can
meet poverty with indifference, and battle with it in any way that
may be
necessary, but with her pockets full of money, her impulse has always
been to throw
it away with both hands. She is wholly unable to explain how she
ran through
her 80,000 roubles, except that amongst other random purchases she
bought land
in America, the very situation of which she has long since totally
forgotten,
besides having, as a matter of course, lost all the papers that had
any reference
to the transaction.
She resolved
during her Mexican wanderings that she [49] would go to India,
fully alive
already to the necessity of seeking beyond the northern frontiers of
that country
for the further acquaintanceship of those great teachers of the
highest
mystic science, with whom the guardian of her visions was associated in
her mind. She
wrote, therefore, to a certain Englishman, whom she had met in
Germany two
years before, and whom she knew to be on the same quest as herself,
to join her
in the West Indies, in order that they might go to the East
together. He
duly came, but the party was further augmented by the addition of a
Hindu whom
Mme. Blavatsky met at Copau, in Mexico, and whom she soon ascertained
to be what is
called a “chelaâ€, or pupil of the Masters, or adepts of
oriental
occult science. The three pilgrims of mysticism went out via the Cape
to Ceylon,
and thence in a sailing ship to Bombay, where, as I make out the
dates, they
must have arrived at quite the end of 1852.
A dispersion
of the little party soon followed, each being bent on somewhat
different
ends. Madame would not accept the guidance of the Chela, and was bent
on an attempt
of her own to get into Tibet through Nepal. For the time her
attempt
failed, chiefly, she believes, as far as external and visible
difficulties
were concerned, through the opposition of the British resident then
in Nepal.
Mme. Blavatsky went down to Southern India, and then on to Java and
Singapore,
returning thence to England.
1853,
however, was an unfortunate year for a Russian to visit this country. The
preparations
for the Crimean War were distressing to Mme. Blavatsky's
patriotism,
and she passed over at the end of the year again to America, going
this time to
New York, and thence out West, first to Chicago, then an infant
city compared
to the Chicago of the present day, and afterwards to the Far West,
and across
the Rocky Mountains with emigrants' [50] caravans, till
ultimately
she brought up for a time in San Francisco. Her stay in America was
prolonged on
this occasion altogether to something like two years, and she then
made her way
a second time to India via Japan and the Straits, reaching Calcutta
in the course
of 1855.
In reference
to her prolonged wanderings her aunt writes: —
“For the
first eight years she gave her mother's family no sign of life for
fear of being
traced by her legitimate 'lord and master', Her father alone knew
of her
whereabouts. Knowing, however, that he would never prevail upon her to
return home,
he acquiesced in her absence, and supplied her with money whenever
she came to
places where it could safely reach her.â€
During her
travels in India in 1856 she was overtaken at Lahore by a German
gentleman
known to her father, who, — in association with two friends, having
laid out a
journey in the East on his own account, with a mystic purpose in
view, in
reference to which fate did not grant him the success that attended
Mme.
Blavatsky's efforts — had been asked by Colonel Hahn to try if he could
find his
errant daughter. The four compatriots travelled together for a time,
and went
through Kashmir to Leli in Ladakh in company with a Tartar Shaman, who
was
instrumental in helping them to witness some psychological wonders wrought
at a Buddhist
monastery. Her companions, Mme. Blavatsky explains, had all formed
what,
referring to the incident in Isis Unveiled, she calls “the unwise plan
of
penetrating into Tibet under various disguises — none of them speaking the
language,
although one of them, a Mr K------, had picked up some Kasan Tartar,
and thought
he didâ€. The passage in Isis rather too long for quotation here.
It begins on
page 599, vol. ii of that book, and describes the [51]
animation of
an infant by the psychic principles of the old Lama, the superior
of the
monastery. The passage as given in his is taken from a narrative written
by Mr K-----,
and put by him in Mme. Blavatsky's hands, and corresponds in
outline to
similar marvels related by the Abbé Huc in the first edition of his
Recollections
of Travel in Tartary, Tibet, and China. In the later editions of
that book the
testimony the author gives to the wonders he witnessed in Tibet is
all cut down
and mutilated. His story was found to be too striking in
recognition
of “miracles†that were not, under the direction of the church,
to be
tolerated by the authorities in its earlier form ; but the first edition
of the book
can still be seen at the British Museum, where I have verified the
accuracy of
the quotation given in Isis.
In reference
to the journey in the course of which the Russian travellers
witnessed the
transaction at the Buddhist monastery, Mme. Blavatsky writes: —
“Two of
them, the brothers N------, were very politely brought back to the
frontier
before they had walked sixteen miles into the weird land of Eastern
Bod, and Mr
K------, an ex-Lutheran minister, could not even attempt to leave
his miserable
village near Leli, as from the first days he found himself
prostrated
with fever, and had to return to Lahore via Kashmir.â€
The Tartar
Shaman, referred to above, rendered Mme. Blavatsky more substantial
assistance in
her efforts to penetrate into Tibet than he was able to afford to
her
companions. Investing her with an appropriate disguise, he conducted her
successfully
across the frontier, and far on into the generally inaccessible
country. It
was to this journey that she vaguely refers in a striking passage
occurring in
the last chapter of Isis Unveiled. As the narrative, though given
in Isis
without any of [52] the surrounding circumstances, fits here into
its proper
place in these records, I quote it at full length. Reference has just
been made to
certain talismans which each shaman carries under his left arm,
attached to a
string. Mme. Blavatsky goes on : —
“ ' Of what
use is it to you, and what are its virtues ? ' was the question we
often offered
to our guide. To this he never answered directly, but evaded all
explanation,
promising that as soon as an opportunity was offered and we were
alone, he
would ask the stone to answer for himself. With this very indefinite
hope we were
left to the resources of our own imagination.
“But the
day on which the stone 'spoke' came very soon. It was during the most
critical
hours of our life; at a time when the vagabond nature of a traveller
had carried
the writer to far-off lands where neither civilisation is known nor
security can
be guaranteed for one hour. One afternoon, as every man and woman
had left the
yourta (Tartar tent) that had been our house for over two months,
to witness
the ceremony of the Lamaic exorcism of Tshoutgour, [An elemental
demon, in
which every native of Asia believes.’] accused of breaking and
spiriting
away every bit of the poor furniture and earthenware of a family
living about
two miles distant, the Shaman, who had become our only protector in
those dreary
deserts, was reminded of his promise. He sighed and hesitated, but
after a short
silence, left his place on the sheepskin, and going outside,
placed a
dried-up goat's head with its prominent horns over a wooden peg, and
then dropping
down the felt curtain of the tent, remarked that now no living
person would
venture in, for the goat's head was a sign that he was ' at work.'
“After
that, placing his hand in his bosom, he drew out the little stone,
about the
size of a walnut, and, carefully unwrapping it, proceeded, as it
appeared, to
swallow it. In a few moments his limbs stiffened, his body became
rigid, and he
fell, cold and motionless as a corpse. But for a slight twitching
of his lips
at every question asked, the scene would have been embarrassing, nay
dreadful.
[53] The sun was setting, and were it not that the dying embers
flickered at
the centre of the tent, complete darkness would have been added to
the
oppressive silence which reigned. We have lived in the prairies of the West,
and in the
boundless steppes of Southern Russia; but nothing can be compared
with the
silence at sunset on the sandy deserts of Mongolia; not even the barren
solitudes of
the deserts of Africa, though the former are partially inhabited,
and the
latter utterly void of life. Yet, there was the writer, alone with what
looked no
better than a corpse lying on the ground. Fortunately this state did
not last
long.
“ '
Mahaudû !' uttered a voice which seemed to come from the bowels of the
earth, on
which the Shaman was prostrated, ' Peace be with you. What would you
have me do
for you ? '
“Startling
as the fact seemed, we were quite prepared for it, for we had seen
other Shamans
pass through similar performances. 'Whoever you are', we
pronounced
mentally, 'go to K-----, and try to bring that person's thought here.
See what that
other party does, and tell ----- what we are doing and how
situated.'
“ ' I am
there,' announced the same voice. ' The old lady (kokona) is sitting
in the
garden. . . . she is putting on her spectacles and reading a letter.'
“ 'The
contents of it, and hasten', was the hurried order, while preparing
note-book and
pencil. The contents were given slowly, as if, while dictating,
the invisible
presence desired to put down the words phonetically, for we
recognised
the Vallachian language, of which we knew nothing beyond the ability
to recognise
it. In such a way a whole page was filled.
“ ' Look
west . . . toward the third pole of the yourta,' pronounced the
Tartar in his
natural voice, though it sounded hollow, and as if coming from
afar. 'Her
thought is here.'
“Then with
a convulsive jerk the upper portion of the Shaman's body seemed
raised, and
his head fell heavily on the writer's feet, which he clutched with
both his
hands. The position was becoming less and less attractive, but
curiosity
proved a good ally to courage. [54] In the west corner was
standing,
life-like, but flickering unsteady, and mist-like, the form of a dear
old friend, a
Roumanian lady of Vallachia, a mystic by disposition, but a
thorough
disbeliever in this kind of occult phenomena.
“ 'Her
thought is here, but her body is lying unconscious. We could not bring
her here
otherwise', said the voice.
“We
addressed and supplicated the apparition to answer, but all in vain. The
features
moved and the form gesticulated as if in fear and agony, but no sound
broke forth
from the shadowy lips; only we imagined — perchance it was a fancy —
hearing, as
if from a long distance, the Roumanian words, 'Non se pote' ('It
cannot be
done' ).
“For over
two hours the most substantial, unequivocal proofs that the Shaman's
astral soul
was travelling at the bidding of our unspoken wish were given us.
Ten months
later, we received a letter from a Vallachian friend in response to
ours, in
which we had enclosed the page from the note-book, inquiring of her
what she had
been doing on that day, and describing the scene in full. She was
sitting, she
wrote, in the garden on that morning,[The hour in Bucharest
corresponded
perfectly with that of the country in which the scene had taken
place.]
prosaically occupied in boiling some conserves; the letter sent to her
was word for
word the copy of the one received by her from her brother; all at
once, in
consequence of the heat she thought, she fainted, and remembered
distinctly
dreaming she saw the writer in a desert place, which she accurately
described,
and sitting under a gipsy's tent,' as she expressed it. '
Henceforth,'
she added, 'I can doubt no longer'.
“But our
experiment was proved better still. We had directed the Shaman's
Inner Eye to
the same friend heretofore mentioned in this chapter, the Kutchi of
Lhassa, who
travels constantly to British India and back. We know that he was
apprised of
our critical situation in the desert; for a few hours later came
help, and we
were rescued by a party of twenty-five horsemen, who had been
directed by
their chief to find us at the place where we were, which no living
man endowed
with common powers could have known. The chief of this [55]
escort was a
Shaberon, an 'adept' whom we had never seen before, nor did we
after that,
for he never left his soumay (lamasary), and we could have no access
to it. ...
But he was a personal friend of the Kutchi.â€
This incident
put an end for the time to Mme. Blavatsky's wanderings in Tibet.
She was
conducted back to the frontier by roads and passes of which she had no
previous
knowledge, and after further travels in India, was directed by her
occult
guardian to leave the country, shortly before the troubles which began in
1857.
She went in a
Dutch vessel from Madras to Java, and thence returned to Europe in
1858.
Meanwhile the
fate to which she has been so freely exposed all through her later
life was
already asserting itself to her disadvantage, and without, up to this
time, having
challenged the world's antagonism, by associating her name with
tales of
wonder, she, nevertheless, already found herself — or rather, in her
absence, her
friends found her — the mark for slanders, no less extravagant, in
a different
way, than some that have been aimed at her quite recently by people
claiming to
take an interest in psychic phenomena, but unable to tolerate those
reported to
have been brought about by her agency. Her aunt writes: “ Faint
rumours
reached her friends of her having been met in Japan, China,
Constantinople,
and the far East. She passed through Europe several times, but
never lived
in it. Her friends, therefore, were as much surprised as pained to
read, years
afterwards, fragments from her supposed biography, which spoke of
her as a
person well known in the high life, as well as the low, of Vienna,
Berlin,
Warsaw, and Paris, and mixed her name with events and ancedotes whose
scene was
laid in these cities, at various epochs, when her friends had every
possible
proof of her being far [56] away from Europe. These anecdotes
referred to
her indifferently under the several Christian names of Julie,
Nathalie, etc
which were those really of other persons of the same surname; and
attributed to
her various extravagant adventures. Thus the Neue Freie Presse
spoke of
Madame Heloise (?) Blavatsky, a non-existing personage, who had joined
the Black
Hussars — les Huzzards de la Mart — during the Hungarian revolution,
her sex being
found out only in 1849.†Similar stories, equally groundless,
were
circulated at a later date. Anticipating this, her aunt goes on : —
“Another
journal of Paris narrated the story of Mme. Blavatsky, 'a Pole from
the Caucasus'
(?), a supposed relative of Baron Hahn of Lemberg, who, after
taking an
active part in the Polish Revolution of 1863 (during the whole of
which time
Mme. H. P. Blavatsky was quietly living with her relatives at
Tiflis), was
compelled, from lack of means, to serve as a female waiter in a '
restaurant du
Faubourg St Antoine'. â€
These, and
many other infamous stories circulated by idle gossips, were laid at
the door of
Mme. Blavatsky, the heroine of our narrative.
On her return
from India in 1858, Mme. Blavatsky did not go straight to Russia,
but, after
spending some months in France and Germany, rejoined her own people
at last in
the midst of a family wedding-party at Pskoff, in the north-west of
Russia, about
180 miles from St Petersburg.
Concerning
the next few years of Mme. Blavatsky's life, we are furnished with
ample details
by means of narrative written at the time by her sister, Mme. V.
P.de
Jelihowsky, and published in 1881 in a Russian periodical — the Rebus — as
a series of
papers, headed, “The Truth about H. P. Blavatskyâ€. To this
source of
information we may now turn. [57]
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CHAPTER 3
AT HOME IN
RUSSIA, 1858
IN the course
of certain Personal and Family Reminiscences, put together by Mme
de Jelihowsky,
she explains the attitude of mind in which she was brought up,
interesting
both as bearing on the narrative she has to relate and also as
connected
with the family history of the subject of this memoir. She writes: —
“I was born
and bred in a strictly orthodox, sincerely religious, yet far from
being
mystically-inclined, family. But if the spirit of mysticism had failed to
influence its
members, it was not in consequence of any predetermined policy of
an a priori
denial of everything unknown, or of a tendency to sneer at the
incomprehensible
only because it is far beyond one's capacities and nature to
take it in;
but as ' highly educated and polished people' can hardly be expected
to confess
their mental and intellectual failings, hence the conscious efforts
of playing at
incredulity and esprits forts. Nothing of the sort was to be found
in our
family. Nor was there any great superstition or bigotry amongst them —
two feelings
the best calculated to generate and develop faith in the
supernatural.
But when, at the age of sixteen, I had to part with my mother's
family, in
which I had been brought up since her death, and went to live with my
father, I met
in him a man of quite a different 'nature. He was an extreme
sceptic, a
deist, if anything, and one of a most practical turn of mind; a
highly
intellectual and even a scientific man, one who [58] knew and had
seen a great
deal in life, but whose erudition and learning had been developed
in full
accordance with his own personal views, and not at all in any spirit of
humility
before the truths of Christianity, or blind belief in man's immortality
and life
beyond the grave.â€
In 1858, when
Mme. Blavatsky returned to Russia, her sister, the writer of the
reminiscences
from which I have just quoted, bore the name of Yahontoff — that
of her first
husband, who had died shortly before that date. She was staying at
Pskoff with
General N. A. Yahontoff — Maréchal de Noblesse of that place — her
late
husband's father. A wedding-party, that of her sister-in-law, was in
progress, and
Colonel Hahn was amongst the guests. On Christmas night, Mme. de
Jelihowsky
writes, “They were all sitting at supper, carriages loaded with
guests were
arriving one after the other, and the hall bell kept ringing without
interruption.
At the moment when the bridegroom's best men arose, with glasses
of champagne
in their hands, to proclaim their good wishes for the happy couple
— a solemn
moment in Russia — the bell was again rung impatiently. Mme.
Yahontoff,
Mme. Blavatsky's sister, moved by an irrepressible impulse, and
notwithstanding
that the hall was full of servants, jumped up from her place at
the table,
and, to the amazement of all, rushed herself to open the door. She
felt
convinced, she said afterwards, though why she could not tell, that it was
her long lost
sister! â€
For some time
this memoir will closely follow Mme. de Jelihowsky's narrative,
now translated
into English for the first time, but it will be unnecessary to
load every
page with quotation marks. Where the first person is used, it will be
understood
that Mme de [59] Jelihowsky is speaking, although she also
frequently
refers to herself in the third person, as the narrative was
originally
published in Russia anonymously. When I, the present editor, have
occasion to
intervene with comments, such passages will be enclosed in brackets.
Spiritism (or
spiritualism) was then just looming on the horizon of Europe,
During her
travels, the psychological peculiarities of Mme. Blavatsky's
childhood and
girlhood had developed, and she returned already possessed of
occult
powers, which were in those days attributed to mediumship.
These powers
asserted themselves in strange incessant knocks and raps and
sounds, which
many hearers mistook for the esprits frappeurs; in the moving of
furniture
without contact, in the increase and the decrease of the weight of
various
objects, in her faculty of seeing herself (and occasionally of
transferring
that faculty to others) things invisible to ordinary sight, and
living but
absent persons who had resided years ago in the places where she
happened to
be, as well as spectral images of personages dead at various epochs.
Well
acquainted with a number of facts of the most striking character which have
happened at
that period of her life (which, however, has not lasted very long,
as she
succeeded very soon in conquering and even obtaining mastery over the
influence of
forces that surrounded her), I will describe only those phenomena
of which I
was an eye-witness.
For this I
must return to the night of Mme. Blavatsky's arrival.
From that
time all those who were living in the house remarked that strange
things were
taking place in it. Raps and whisperings, sounds, mysterious and
[60]
unexplained, were now being constantly heard wherever the newly
arrived
inmate went. Not only did they occur in her presence and near her, but
knocks were
heard, and movements of the furniture perceived nearly in every room
in the house,
on the walls, the floor, the windows, the sofa, cushions, mirrors,
and clocks ;
on every piece of furniture, in short, about the rooms. However
much Mme.
Blavatsky tried to conceal these facts, laughing at them and trying to
turn these
manifestations into fun, it was useless for her to deny the fact or
the occult
significance of these sounds. At last, to the incessant questions of
her sister,
she confessed that those manifestations had never ceased to follow
her
everywhere as in the early days of her infancy and youth. That such raps
could be
increased or diminished, and at times even made to cease altogether, by
the mere
force of her will, she also acknowledged, proving her assertion
generally on
the spot. Of course the good people of Pskoff, like the rest of the
world, knew
what was then occurring, and had heard of spiritualism and its
manifestations.
There had been mediums in Petersburg, but they had not
penetrated as
far as Pskoff, and its guileless inhabitants had never heard the
rappings of
the so-called spirit.
[All who have
become acquainted with Mme. Blavatsky in the present phase of her
development
will be aware of the eagerness with which she repudiates the least
trace of
mediumship as entering into the phenomena with which she had been
associated in
recent years. In 1858 she appears to have been in a transition
state,
already invested with occult will-power, which put her in a position to
repress the
manifestations of mediumship in emergencies, but still liable to
their
spontaneous occurrence when they were not thus under repression. [61]
Expressly
asked the question, she would always deny that she was a medium —
which,
indeed, she would appear no longer to have been, in the strict sense of
the term —
for she does not seem to have been controlled by the agencies
recognised in
spiritualism, even when sometimes acquiescing in casual
manifestations
on their part. Mme. de Jelihowsky, questioned on this subject
recently,
says: “I remember that when addressed as a medium, she (Mme.
Blavatsky)
used to laugh and assure us she was no medium, but only a. mediator
between
mortals and beings we knew nothing about. But I could never understand
the difference.â€
This may be
the best opportunity for bringing to the reader's notice some
passages from
Mme. Jelihowsky's Personal and Family Reminiscences which bear on
the point, an
important one as regards all psychic students of Mme. Blavatsky's
phenomena and
characteristics.
Her sister
says :—
“Although
everyone had supposed that the manifestations occurring in H. P.
Blavatsky's
presence were the results of a mediumistic power pertaining to her,
she herself
had always obstinately denied it. My sister H. P. Blavatsky had
passed most
of her time, during her many years' absence from Russia, travelling
in India,
where, as we are now informed, spiritual theories are held in great
scorn, and
the so-called (by us) mediumistic phenomena are said to be caused by
quite another
agency than that of spirits; mediumship proceeding, they say, from
a source, to
draw from which, my sister thinks it degrading to her human
dignity; in
consequence of which ideas she refuses to acknowledge such a force
in herself.
From letters received by me from my sister, I found she had been
dissatisfied
with much that I had said of her in my ' Truth about H. P.
Blavatsky.'
She still maintains, now as then, that in those days (of 1860) she
was
influenced as well as she is now by quite [62] another kind of power —
namely, that
of the Indian sages, the Raj-Yogis — and that even the shadows
(figures) she
sees all her life, are no phantoms, no ghosts of the deceased, but
only the
manifestations of her powerful friends in their astral envelopes.
However it
may be, and whatever the power that produced her phenomena only,
during the
whole time that she lived with us at the Yahontoff such phenomena
happened
constantly before the eyes of all, believers and unbelievers (relatives
and
outsiders) — and they plunged everyone equally into amazement.â€
As this
memoir is a narrative and not an occult treatise, I refrain from any
minute
analysis of the psychological problem involved, and would only point out
that the
condition of things Mme. de Jelihowsky refers to, chimes in with the
rough
explanation I gave in the first chapter as to the occult theory of Mme.
Blavatsky's
development, which would recognise her natural born, physical
attributes as
only coming under control when the higher faculties of her real
self,
entering into union with the bodily organism as this reached maturity, put
her in a
position to be taught how to eradicate the weed-growth of her
abnormally
fertile psychic faculties.]
With the arrival
of Mme. Blavatsky at Pskoff, the news about the extraordinary
phenomena
produced by her spread abroad like lightning, turning the whole town
topsy-turvy.
The fact is,
that the sounds were not simple raps, but something more, as they
showed
extraordinary intelligence, disclosing the past as well as the future to
those who
held converse through them with those Mme. Blavatsky called her
kikimorcy (or
spooks). More than that, for they showed the gift of disclosing
unexpressed
thoughts, i.e. penetrating freely into the most secret recesses of
[63] the
human mind, and divulging past deeds and present intentions.
The relatives
of Mme. Blavatsky's sister were leading a very fashionable life,
and received
a good deal of company in those days. Her presence attracted a
number of
visitors, no one of whom ever left her unsatisfied, for the raps which
she evoked
gave answers, composed of long discourses in several languages, some
of which were
unknown to the medium, as she was called. The poor “mediumâ€
became
subjected to every kind of test, to which she submitted very gracefully,
no matter how
absurd the demand, as a proof that she did not bring about the
phenomena by
juggling. It was her usual habit to sit very quietly and quite
unconcerned
on the sofa, or in an arm-chair, engaged in some embroidery, and
apparently
without taking the slightest interest or active part in the hubbub
which she
produced around herself. And the hubbub was great indeed. One of the
guests would
be reciting the alphabet, another putting down the answers
received,
while the mission of the rest was to offer mental questions, which
were always
and promptly answered. It so happened, however, that the unknown and
invisible things
at work favoured some people more than others, while there were
those who
could obtain no answers whatever. In the latter case, instead of
replying to
queries asked aloud, the raps would answer the unexpressed mental
thought of
some other person, first calling him by name. During that time,
conversations
and discussions in a loud tone were carried on around her.
Mistrust and
irony were often shown, and occasionally even a doubt expressed, in
a very
indelicate way, as to the good faith of Mme. Blavatsky. But she bore it
all very
coolly and patiently, a strange and puzzling smile or an ironical
shrugging of
the [64] shoulders being her only answer to questions of very
doubtful
logic offered to her over and over again.
“But how do
you do it, and what is it that raps ? †people kept on asking.
Or again,
“but how can you so well guess people's thought ? How could you know
that I had
thought of this or that ? â€
At first H.
P. B. sought very zealously to prove to people that she did not
produce the
phenomena, but very soon she changed her tactics. She declared
herself tired
of such discussions, and silence and a contemptuous smile became
for some time
her only answer. Again she would change as rapidly; and in moments
of
good-humour, when people would be foolishly and openly expressing the most
insulting
doubts of her honesty, instead of resenting them she used to laugh
aloud in
their faces. Indeed, the most absurd hypotheses were offered by the
sceptics. For
instance, it was suggested that she might produce her loud raps by
the means of
a machine in her pocket, or that she rapped with her nails; the
most
ingenious theory being that “when her hands were visibly occupied with
some work,
she did it with her toes.â€
To put an end
to all this, she allowed herself to be subjected to the most
stupid
demands ; she was searched, her hands and feet were tied with string, she
permitted
herself to be placed on a soft sofa, to have her shoes taken off and
her hands and
feet held fast against a soft pillow, so that they should be seen
by all, and
then she was asked that the knocks and rappings should be produced
at the
further end of the room. Declaring that she would try, but would promise
nothing, her
orders were, nevertheless, immediately accomplished, especially
when the
people were seriously interested. These raps were produced at her
command on
the ceiling, on the [65] window sills, on every bit of furniture
in the
adjoining room, and in places quite distant from her.
At times she
would wickedly revenge herself by practical jokes on those who so
doubted her.
Thus, for example, the raps which came one day inside the glasses
of the young
Professor M------, while she was sitting at the other side of the
room, were so
strong that they fairly knocked the spectacles off his nose, and
made him
become pale with fright. At another time, a lady, an esprit fort, very
vain and
coquettish, to her ironical question of what was the best conductor for
the production
of such raps, and whether they could be done everywhere, received
a strange and
very puzzling answer. The word, “Goldâ€, was rapped out, and
then came the
words, “We will prove it to you immediatelyâ€.
The lady kept
smiling with her mouth slightly opened. Hardly had the answer
come, than
she became very pale, jumped from her chair, and covered her mouth
with her
hand. Her face was convulsed with fear and astonishment. Why ? Because
she had felt
raps in her mouth, as she confessed later on. Those present looked
at each other
significantly. Previous even to her own confession all had
understood
that the lady had felt a violent commotion and raps in the gold of
her
artificial teeth! And when she rose from her place and left the room with
precipitation,
there was a homeric laugh among us at her expense.[66]
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CHAPTER 4
MM DE
JELIHOWSKY'S NARRATIVE
IT is
impossible to give in detail even a portion of what was produced in the
way of such
phenomena during the stay of Mme. Blavatsky amongst us in the town
of Pskoff.
But they may be mentioned under general classification as follows : —
1. Direct and
perfectly clear written and verbal answers to mental questions —
or
“thought-readingâ€.
2.
Prescriptions for different diseases, in Latin, and subsequent cures.
3. Private
secrets, unknown to all but the interested party, divulged,
especially in
the case of those persons who mentioned insulting doubts.
4. Change of
weight in furniture and of persons at will.
5. Letters
from unknown correspondents, and immediate answers written to queries
made, and
found in the most out-of-the-way mysterious places.[Thus a governess,
named
Leontine, who wanted to know the fate of a certain young man she had hoped
to be married
to, learnt what had become of him ; his name, that she had
purposely
withheld, being given in full — from a letter written in an unknown
handwriting
she found in one of her locked boxes, placed inside a trunk equally
locked.]
6.
Appearances and apport of objects unclaimed by any one present. [67]
7. Sounds as
of musical notes in the air wherever Mme. Blavatsky desired they
should
resound.
All these
surprising and inexplicable manifestations of an intelligent, and at
times, I
should almost say, an omniscient force, produced a sensation in Pskoff,
where there
yet remain many who remember it well. Truth compels us to remark
that the
answers were not always in perfect accord with the facts, but seemed
purposely
distorted as though for the purpose of making fun, especially of those
querists who
expected infallible prophecies.
Nevertheless,
the fact remains of the manifestation of an intelligent force,
capable of
perceiving the thoughts and feelings of any person; as also of
expressing
them by rappings and motions in inanimate objects. The following two
occurrences
took place in the presence of many eye-witnesses during the stay of
Mme.
Blavatsky with us.
As usual,
those nearest and dearest to her were, at the same time, the most
skeptical as
to her occult powers. Her brother Leonide and her father stood out
longer than
all against evidence, until at last the doubts of the former were
greatly
shaken by the following fact.
The
drawing-room of the Yahontoffs was full of visitors. Some were occupied with
music, others
with cards, but most of us, as usual, with phenomena. Leonide de
Hahn did not
concern himself with anything in particular, but was leisurely
walking
about, watching everybody and everything. He was a strong, muscular
youth,
saturated with the Latin and German wisdom of the University, and
believed, so
far, in no one and nothing. He stopped behind the back of his
sister's
chair, and was listening to her narratives of how some persons, who
called
themselves mediums, made light objects become so heavy that it was
impossible to
lift them; and others which were naturally heavy became again
remarkably
light.[68]
“And you
mean to say that you can do it ? †ironically asked the young man
of his
sister.
“Mediums
can, and I have done it occasionally; though I cannot always answer
for its
successâ€, coolly replied Mme. Blavatsky.
“But would
you try ? †asked somebody in the room; and immediately all
joined in
requesting her to do so.
“I will
tryâ€, she said, “but I beg of you to remember that I promise
nothing. I
will simply fix this chess-table and try. ... He who wants to make
the
experiment, let him lift it now, and then try again after I shall have fixed
it.â€
“After you
shall have fixed it ? †said a voice, “ and what then ? Do you
mean to say
that you will not touch the table at all ? â€
“Why should
I touch it ? †answered Mme. Blavatsky, with a quiet smile.
Upon hearing
the extraordinary assertion, one of the young men went determinedly
to the small
chess-table, and lifted it up as though it were a feather.
“All rightâ€,
she said. “Now kindly leave it alone, and stand back! â€
The order was
at once obeyed, and a great silence fell upon the company. All,
holding their
breath, anxiously watched for what Mme. Blavatsky would do next.
She apparently,
however, did nothing at all. She merely fixed her large blue
eyes upon the
chess-table, and kept looking at it with an intense gaze. Then,
without
removing her gaze, she silently, with a motion of her hand, invited the
same young
man to remove it. He approached, and grasped the table by its leg
with great
assurance. The table could not be moved !
He then
seized it with both his hands. The table stood as though screwed to the
floor.
Then the
young man, crouching down, took hold of [69] it with both hands,
exerting all
his strength to lift it by the additional means of his broad
shoulders. He
grew red with the effort, but all in vain! The table seemed rooted
to the
carpet, and would not be moved. There was a loud burst of applause. The
young man,
looking very much confused, abandoned his task en désespoir de cause,
and stood
aside.
Folding his
arms in quite a Napoleonic way, he only slowly said, “Well, this
is a good
joke ! â€
“Indeed, it
is a good one ! †echoed Leonide.
A suspicion
had crossed his mind that the young visitor was acting in secret
confederacy
with his sister and was fooling them.
“May I also
try ? †he suddenly asked her,
“Please do,
my dearâ€, was the laughing response.
Her brother
upon this approached, smiling, and seized, in his turn, the
diminutive
table by its leg with his strong muscular arm. But the smile
instantly
vanished, to give place to an expression of mute amazement. He stepped
back a little
and examined again very carefully the, to him, well-known
chess-table.
Then he gave it a tremendous kick, but the little table did not
even budge.
Suddenly
applying to its surface his powerful chest he enclosed it within his
arms, trying
to shake it. The wood cracked, but would yield to no effort. Its
three feet
seemed screwed to the floor. Then Leonide Hahn lost all hope, and
abandoning
the ungrateful task, stepped aside, and frowning, exclaimed but these
two words,
“How strange! †his eyes turning meanwhile with a wild expression
of
astonishment from the table to his sister.
We all agreed
that this exclamation was not too strong.
The loud
debate had meanwhile drawn the attention of several visitors, and they
came pouring
in from the drawing-room into the large apartment where we were.
[70]
Many of them,
old and young, tried to lift up, or even to impart some slight
motion to,
the obstinate little chess-table. They failed, like the rest of us.
Upon seeing
her brother's astonishment, and perchance desiring finally to
destroy his
doubts, Mme. Blavatsky, addressing him with her usual careless
laugh, said,
“Try to lift the table now, once more I â€
Leonide H.
approached the little thing very irresolutely, grasped it again by
the leg, and,
pulling it upwards, came very near to dislocating his arm owing to
the useless
effort: the table was lifted like a feather this time [Madame
Blavatsky has
stated that this phenomenon could only be produced in two
different
ways:
1st.. Through
the exercise of her own will directing the magnetic currents so
that the
pressure on the table became such that no physical force could move it
; and
2nd. Through
the action of those beings with whom she was in constant
communication,
and who, although unseen, were able to hold the table against all
opposition.]
And now to
our second case. It occurred in St Petersburg, a few months later,
when Mme.
Blavatsky had already left Pskoff with her father and sister, and when
all three
were living in a hotel. They had come to St Petersburg on business on
their way to
Mme. Yahontoff’s property, in the district of Novorgeff, where they
had decided
to pass the summer. All their forenoons were occupied with business,
their
afternoons and evenings with making and receiving visits, and there was no
time for, or
even mention of, phenomena.
One night
they received a visit from two old friends of their father; both were
old
gentlemen, one of them a school-fellow of the Corps des Pages, Baron
M------, the
other the well-known K------w. [ Sceptics who insist upon having
the full
names are invited to apply to the writer of the above, Mme de
Jelihowsky,
St Petersburg, Zabalkansky Prospect, No. 10 house, r.31 apartment’]
Both were
much [71] interested in recent spiritualism, and were, of course,
anxious to
see something.
After a few
successful phenomena, the visitors declared themselves positively
delighted,
amazed, and quite at a loss what to make of Mme. Blavatsky's powers.
They could
neither understand nor account, they said, for her father's
indifference
in presence of such manifestations. There he was, coolly laying out
his “grande
patience†with cards, while phenomena of such a wonderful nature
were
occurring around him. The old gentleman, thus taken to task, answered that
it was all
bosh, and that he would not hear of such nonsense; such occupation
being hardly
worthy of serious people, he added. The rebuke left the two old
gentlemen
unconcerned. They began, on the contrary, to insist that Colonel Hahn
should, for
old friendship's sake, make an experiment, before denying the
importance,
or even the possibility of his daughter's phenomena. They offered
him to test
the intelligences and their power by writing a word in another room,
secretly from
all of them, and then asking the raps to repeat it. The old
gentleman,
more probably in the hope of a failure that would afford him the
opportunity
of laughing at his two old friends, than out of a desire to humour
them, finally
consented. He left his cards, and proceeding into an adjoining
room, wrote a
word on a bit of paper; after which, conveying it to his pocket,
he returned
to his patience, and waited silently, laughing behind his grey
moustache.
“Well, our
dispute will now be settled in a few momentsâ€, said K------w.
“What shall
you say, however, old friend, if the word written by you is
correctly
repeated? Will you not feel compelled to believe in such a case ? â€
“What I
might say, if the word were correctly [72] guessed, I could not
tell at
presentâ€, he skeptically replied. “One thing I could answer,
however, from
the time I can be made to believe your alleged spiritism and its
phenomena, I
shall be ready to believe in the existence of the devil, undines,
sorcerers,
and witches — in the whole paraphernalia — in short, of old women's
superstitions;
and you may prepare to offer me as an inmate of a lunatic
asylum.â€
Upon
delivering himself thus, he went on with his patience, and paid no further
attention to
the proceedings. He was an old “Voltarianâ€, as the positivists
who believed
in nothing are called in Russia. But we, who felt deeply interested
in the
experiment, began to listen to the loud and unceasing raps coming from a
plate brought
there for the purpose.
The younger
sister was repeating the alphabet; the old general marked the
letters down;
while Mme. Blavatsky did nothing at all — apparently.
She was what
would be called, in our days, a “good writing mediumâ€; that is
to say, she
could write out the answers herself while talking with those around
her upon
quite indifferent topics. But simple and more rapid as this mode of
communication
may be, she would never consent to use it.
She was too afraid
to employ it, fearing as she explained, uncalled-for
suspicion
from foolish people who did not understand the process.
[From the
first, that is to say, almost from her childhood, and certainly in the
days
mentioned above, Mme. Blavatsky, as she tells us, would, in such cases, see
either the
actual present thought of the person putting the questions, or its
paler
reflection — still quite distinct for her — of an event, or a name, or
whatever it
was, in the past, as though hanging in a shadow world around the
[73] person,
generally in the vicinity of the head. She had but to copy it
consciously,
or allow her hand to do so mechanically. At any rate, she never
felt herself
helped or led on by an external power, i.e. no “spirits†helped
her in this
process after she returned from her first voyage, she avers. It
seemed an
action entirely confined to her own will, more or less consciously
exercised by
her, more or less premeditated and put into play.
Whenever the
thought of a person had to be communicated through raps, the
process
changed. She had to read, first of all, sometimes to interpret the
thought of
the querist, and having done so, to remember it well after it had
often
disappeared; watch the letters of the alphabet as they were read or
pointed out,
prepare the will-current that had to produce the rap at the right
letter, and
then have it strike at the right moment the table or any other
object chosen
to be the vehicle of sounds or raps. A most difficult process, and
far less easy
than direct writing.']
By the means
of raps and alphabet we got one word, but it proved such a strange
one, so
grotesquely absurd as having no evident relation to anything that might
be supposed
to have been written by her father, that all of us who had been in
the
expectation of some complicated sentence looked at each other, dubious
whether we
ought to read it aloud. To our question, whether it was all, the raps
became more
energetic in the affirmative sounds. We had several triple raps,
which meant
in our code — Yes ! . . . yes, yes, yes !!!
Remarking our
agitation and whispering, Madame Blavatsky's father looked at us
over his
spectacles, and asked:
“Well! Have
you any answer ? It must be something very elaborate and profound
indeed! â€
He arose and,
laughing in his moustache, approached [74] us. His youngest
daughter,
Mme. Yahontoff, then went to him and said, with some little confusion
:
“We only
got one word.â€
“And what
is it?â€
“Zaïtchik!
†[Zaïchik means, literally,”a little hare”, while Zaïtz is
the
Russian term
for any hare. In the Russian language every substantive and
adjective may
be made to express the same thing, only in the diminutive. Thus a
house is dom,
while small house is expressed by the word domik, etc.]
It was a
sight indeed to witness the extraordinary change that came over the old
man's face at
this one word! He became deadly pale. Adjusting his spectacles
with a
trembling hand, he stretched it out while hurriedly saying:
“Let me see
it! Hand it over. Is it really so ? â€
He took the
slips of paper, and read in a very agitated voice, — “ 'Zaïtchik'.
Yes,
Zaïtchik; so it is. How very strange!â€
Taking out of
his pocket the paper he had written upon in the adjoining room, he
handed it in
silence to his daughter and guests.
They found on
it both the question offered and the answer that was anticipated.
The words
read thus:
“What was
the name of my favorite war-horse which I rode during my first
Turkish
campaign ? †and lower down, in parenthesis (“ Zaïtchik â€).
We felt fully
triumphant, and expressed our feelings accordingly.
This solitary
word, Zaïtchik, had an enormous effect upon the old gentleman. As
it often
happens with inveterate sceptics, once he had found out that there was
indeed
something in his eldest daughter's claims, and that it had nothing to do
whatever with
deceit or juggling, [75] having been convinced of this one
fact, he
rushed into the region of phenomena with all the zeal of an ardent
investigator.
As a matter of course, once he believed he felt no more inclined
to doubt his
own reason.
Having
received from Mme. Blavatsky one correct answer, her father became
passionately
fond of experimenting with his daughter's powers. Once he inquired
of the date
of a certain event in his family that had occurred several hundred
of years
before. He received it. From that time he set himself and Mme.
Blavatsky the
difficult task of restoring the family chronology. The
genealogical
tree, lost in the night of the first crusades, had to be restored
from its
roots down to his day.
The
information was readily promised, and he set to work from morning to night.
First, the
legend of the Count von Rottenstern, the Knight Crusader, was given
him. The
year, the month, and the day on which a certain battle with the
Saracens had
been fought; and how, while sleeping in his tent, the Knight
Crusader was
awakened by the cry of a cock (Hahn) to find himself in time to
kill, instead
of being stealthily killed by an enemy who had penetrated into his
tent. For
this feat the bird, true symbol of vigilance, was raised to the honor
of being
incorporated in the coat of arms of the Counts of Rottenstern, who
became from
that time the Rottenstern von Rott Hahn; to branch off later into
the Hahn-Hahn
family and others.
Then began a
regular series of figures, dates of years and months, of hundreds
of names by
connection and side marriages, and a long line of descent from the
Knight
Crusaders down to the Countess Ida Hahn-Hahn — Mme. Blavatsky's father's
cousin, and
her father's family names and dates, as well as a mass of
contemporary
events which had taken place in connection with that [76]
family's
descending line, were given rapidly and unhesitatingly. The greatest
historian,
endowed with the most phenomenal memory, could never be equal to such
a task. How
then could one who had been on cold terms from her very youth with
simple
arithmetic and history be suspected of deliberate deceit in a work that
necessitated
the greatest chronological precision, the knowledge very often of
the most
unimportant historical events, with their involved names and dates, all
of which upon
the most careful verification were found to be correct to a day.
True, the
family immigrants from Germany since the days of Peter III. had a good
many missing
links and blanks in their genealogical tables, yet the few
documents
that had been preserved among the various branches of the family in
Germany and
Russia — whenever consulted, were found to be the originals of those
very exact
copies furnished through Mme. Blavatsky's raps.
Her uncle, a
high official at the General Post Office at St Petersburg, whose
great
ambition in those days was to settle the title of a Count on his eldest
sons
permanently, took the greatest interest in this mysterious work. Over and
over again he
would, in his attempts to puzzle and catch his niece in some
historical or
chronological inaccuracy, interrupt the regular flow of her raps,
and ask for
information about something which had nothing to do with the
genealogy,
but was only some contemporaneous fact. For instance :
“You say
that in the year 1572 Count Carl von Hahn-Hahn was married to the
Baroness
Ottilia, so and so. This was in June at the castle of — — at
Mecklenburg.
Now, who was the reigning Kurfuerst at that time; what Prince
reigned at -----
(some small German state); and who was the confessor of the
Pope, and the
Pope himself in that year ? â€[77]
And the
answer, always correct, would invariably come without a moment's pause.
It was often
found far more difficult to verify the correctness of such names
and dates
than to receive the information. Mr J. A. Hahn, then Post Director at
St
Petersburg, Mme. Blavatsky's uncle, had to plunge for days and weeks
sometimes
into dusty old archives, write to Germany, and apply for information
to the most
out-of-the-way places, that were designated to him, when he found
difficulties
in his way to obtain the knowledge he sought for in easily
obtainable
books and records.
This lasted
for months. Never during that time were Mme. Blavatsky's invisible
helper or
helpers found mistaken in any single instance. [Indeed not; for it was
neither a
“spirit” nor “spirits” but living men who can draw before their eyes
the picture
of any book or manuscript wherever existing, and in case of need
even that of
any long-forgotten and unrecorded event, who helped “Mme
Blavatsky”,
The astral light is the storehouse and the record book of all
things, and
deeds have no secrets for such men. And the proof of it may be found
in the
production of Isis Unveiled.(Note by H.P. Blavatsky)] They only asked
occasionally
for a day or two to get at the correct information.
Unfortunately,
these records, put down on fly-leaves and then copied into a
book, are
probably lost. The papers remained with Mme. Blavatsky's father, who
treasured
them, and with many other far more valuable documents were stolen or
lost after
his death. But his sister-in-law, Mme. Blavatsky's aunt, has in her
possession
letters from him in which he speaks enthusiastically of his
experiments.
One of the
most startling of her phenomena happened very soon after Mme.
Blavatsky's
return, in the early spring of 1858. Both sisters were then living
with [78]
their father, in their country house in a village belonging to
Mme.
Yahontoff.
In
consequence of a crime committed not far from the boundaries of my property,
she writes —
(a man having been found killed in a gin shop, the murderers
remaining
unknown) — the superintendent of the district police passed one
afternoon
through our village, and stopped to make some inquiries.
The
researches were made very secretly, and he had not said one word about his
business to
anyone in the house, not even to our father. As he was an
acquaintance
who visited our family, and stopped at our house on his district
tour, no one
asked him why he had come, for he made us very frequent visits, as
to all the
other proprietors in the neighborhood.
It was only
on the following morning, after he had ordered the village serfs to
appear for
examination (which proved useless), that the inmates learned anything
of his
mission.
During tea,
as they were all sitting around the table, there came the usual
knocks, raps,
and disturbance on the walls, the ceiling, and about the furniture
of the room.
To our
father's question why the police-superintendent should not try to learn
something of
the name and the whereabouts of the murderer from my sister's
invisible
agents, the officer Captain O only incredulously smiled.
He had heard
of the “all-knowing†spirits, but was ready to bet almost
anything that
these “horned and hoofed gentlemen†would prove insufficient
for such a
task. “They would hardly betray and inform against their ownâ€, he
added, with a
silly laugh.
This fling at
her invisible “powersâ€, and laugh, as she thought, at her
expense, made
Mme. Blavatsky [79] change color, and feel, as she said, an
irrepressible
desire to humble the ignorant fool, who hardly knew what he was
talking
about. She turned fiercely upon the police-officer.
“And
suppose I prove to you the contrary ?†she defiantly asked him.
“Thenâ€,
he answered, still laughing, “I would resign my office, and offer
it to you,
Madame ; or, still better, I would strongly urge the authorities to
place you at
the head of the Secret Police Department.â€
“ Now, look
here, Captainâ€, she said, indignantly, “I do not like meddling
in such a
dirty business, and helping you detectives. Yet, since you defy me,
let my father
say over the alphabet, and you put down the letters, and record
what will be
rapped out. My presence is not needed for this, and with your
permission I
will even leave the room.â€
She went
away, and taking a book, placed herself on the balcony, apparently
quite
unconcerned with what was going on.
Colonel Hahn,
anxious to make a convert, began repeating the alphabet. The
communication
received was far from complimentary in its adjectives to the
address of
the police-superintendent.
The outcome
of the message was, that while he was talking nonsense at Rougodevo
(the name of
our new property), the murderer, whose name was Samoylo Ivanof, had
crossed over
before daylight to the next district, and thus escaped the
officer's
clutches.
“At present
he is hiding under a bundle of hay in the loft of a peasant, named
Andrew
Vlassof, of the village of Oreshkino. By going there immediately you will
secure the
criminal.â€
The effect
upon the man was tremendous! Our [80] Stanovoy (district
officer) was
positively nonplused, and confessed that Oreshkino was one of the
suspected
villages he had on his list.
“But —
allow me, however, to inquireâ€, he asked of the table from which the
raps
proceeded, and bending over it with a suspicious look upon his face, “how
come you —
whoever you are — to know anything of the murderer's name, or of that
of the
confederate who hides him in his loft ? And who is Vlassof, for I know
him not ? â€
The answer
came clear and rather contemptuous.
“Very
likely that you should neither know nor see much beyond your own nose.
We, however,
who are now giving you the information, have the means of knowing
everything we
wish to know. Samoylo Ivanof is an old soldier on leave. He was
drunk, and
quarreled with the victim. The murder was not premeditated; it is a
misfortune,
not a crime.â€
Upon hearing
these words the superintendent rushed out of the house like a
madman, and
drove off at a furious rate towards Oreshkino, which was more than
thirty miles
distant from Rougodevo. The information agreeing admirably with
some points
he had laboriously collected, and furnishing the last word to the
mystery of
the names given — he had no doubt in his own mind that the rest would
prove true,
as he confessed some time after.
On the
following morning a messenger on horseback, sent by the Stanovoy, made
his
appearance with a letter to her father.
Events in
Oreshkino had proved every word of the information to be correct. The
murderer was
found and arrested in his hiding place at Andrew Vlassofs cottage,
and
identified as a soldier on leave named Samoylo Ivanof.
This event
produced a great sensation in the district, and henceforward the
messages
obtained, through the [81] instrumentality of my sister, were
viewed in a
more serious light. [Madame Blavatsky denies, point blank, any
intervention
of spirits in this case. She tells us she had the picture of the
whole tragedy
and its subsequent developments before her from the moment the
Stanovoy
entered the house. She knew the names of the murderers, the
confederate,
and of the village, for she saw them interested, so to say, with
the visions.
Then she guided the raps, and thus gave the information.] But this
brought, a
few weeks after, very disagreeable complications, for the police of
St Petersburg
wanted to know how could one, and that one a woman who had just
returned from
foreign countries, know anything of the details of a murder.
It cost
Colonel Hahn great exertion to settle the matter and satisfy the
suspicious
authorities that there had been no fouler play in the business than
the
intervention of supernatural powers, in which the police pretended, of
course, to
have no faith.
The most
successful phenomena took place during those hours when we were alone,
when no one
cared to make experiments or sought useless tests, and when there
was no one to
convince or enlighten.
At such
moments the manifestations were left to produce themselves at their own
impulse and
pleasure, none of us — not even the chief author of the phenomena
under
observation, at any rate as far as those present could see and judge from
appearances —
assuming any active part in trying to guide them.
We very soon
arrived at the conviction that the forces at work, as Mme,
Blavatsky
constantly told us, had to be divided into several distinct
categories.
While the lowest on the scale of invisible beings produced most of
the physical
phenomena, the very highest among the agencies at work condescended
but rarely to
a communication or intercourse with strangers. The [82]
last-named
“invisibles†made themselves manifestly seen, felt, and heard
only during
those hours when we were alone in the family, and when great harmony
and quiet
reigned among us.
It is said
that harmony helps wonderfully toward the manifestation of the
so-called
mediumistic force, and that the effects produced in physical
manifestations
depend but little on the volition of the “mediumâ€. Such feats
as that
accomplished with the little chess-table at Pskoff were rare. In the
majority of
the cases the phenomena were sporadic, seemingly quite independent
of her will,
apparently never heeding anyone's suggestion, and generally
appearing in
direct contradiction with the desires expressed by those present.
We used to
feel extremely vexed whenever there was a chance to convince some
highly
intellectual investigator, but through H. P. Blavatsky's obstinacy or
lack of will
nothing came out of it. For instance :
If we asked
for one of those highly intellectual, profound answers we got so
often when
alone, we usually received in answer some impertinent rubbish; when
we begged for
the repetition of some phenomena she had produced for us hundreds
of times
before, our wish was only laughed at.
I well remember
how, during a grand evening party, when several families of
friends had
come from afar off, in some cases from distances of hundreds of
miles on
purpose to witness some phenomena, to “hear with their ears and see
with their
eyes†the strange doings of Mme. Blavatsky, the latter, though
mockingly
assuring us she did all she could, gave them no result to ponder upon.
This lasted
for several days. [ She explains this by describing herself as tired
and disgusted
with the ever-growing public thirst for “miraclesâ€.] [83]
The visitors
had left dissatisfied and in a spirit as skeptical as it was
uncharitable.
Hardly, however, had the gates been closed after them, the bells
of their
horses yet merrily tinkling in the last alley of the entrance park,
when
everything in the room seemed to become endowed with life. The furniture
acted as
though every piece of it was animated and gifted with voice and speech,
and we passed
the rest of the evening and the greater part of the night as
though we were
between the enchanted walls of the magic palace of some
Scheherazade.
It is far
easier to enumerate the phenomena that did not take place during these
forever
memorable hours than to describe those that did. All those weird
manifestations
that we had observed at various times seemed to have been
repeated for
our sole benefit during that night. At one moment as we sat at
supper in the
dining-room, there were loud accords played on the piano which
stood in the
adjoining apartment, and which was closed and locked, and so placed
that we could
all of us see it from where we were through the large open doors.
Then at the
first command and look of Mme. Blavatsky there came rushing to her
through the
air her tobacco-pouch, her box of matches, her pocket-handkerchief,
or anything
she asked, or was made to ask for.
Then, as we
were taking our seats, all the lights in the room were suddenly
extinguished,
both lamps and wax candles, as though a mighty rush of wind had
swept through
the whole apartment; and when a match was instantly struck, there
was all the
heavy furniture, sofas, arm-chairs, tables, cupboards, and large
sideboard
standing upside down, as though turned over noiselessly by some
invisible
hands, and not an ornament of the fragile carved work nor even a plate
broken.
Hardly had we gathered [84] our senses together after this
miraculous
performance, when we heard again someone playing on the piano a loud
and
intelligible piece of music, a long marche de bravoure this time. As we
rushed with
lighted candles to the instrument (I mentally counting the persons
to ascertain
that all were present), we found, as we had anticipated, the piano
locked, the
last sounds of the final chords still vibrating in the air from
beneath the
heavy closed lid.
After this,
notwithstanding the late hour, we placed ourselves around our large
dining-table,
and had a séance. The huge family dining-board began to shake
with great
force, and then to move, sliding rapidly about the room in every
direction,
even raising itself up to the height of a man. In short, we had all
those
manifestations that never failed when we were alone, i.e. when only those
nearest and
dearest to H. P. B. were present, and none of the strangers who came
to us
attracted by mere curiosity, and often with a malevolent and hostile
feeling.
Among a mass
of various and striking phenomena that took place on that memorable
night, I will
mention but two more.
And here I
must notice the following question made in those days whenever my
sister,
Madame B sat, to please us, for “communications through rapsâ€. We
were asked by
her to choose what we would have. “Shall we have the mediumistic
or spook
raps, or the raps by clairvoyant proxy ? †she asked.
[To make this
clearer and intelligible, I must give her (Mme. Blavatsky's)
explanation
of the difference.
She never
made a secret that she had been, ever since her childhood, and until
nearly the
age of twenty-five, a very strong medium; though after that period,
owing to a
regular psychological and physiological training, she [85] was
made to lose
this dangerous gift, and every trace of mediumship outside her
will, or
beyond her direct control, was overcome. She had two distinct methods
of producing
communications through raps. The one consisted almost entirely in
her being
passive, and permitting the influences to act at their will, at which
time the
brainless Elementals, (the shells would rarely, if ever, be allowed to
come, owing
to the danger of the intercourse) chameleon-like, would reflect more
or less
characteristically the thoughts of those present, and follow in a
half-intelligent
way the suggestions found by them in Madame Blavatsky's mind.
The other
method, used very rarely for reasons connected with her intense
dislike to
meddle with really departed entities, or rather to enter into their
“currents
of thought†is this: — She would compose herself, and seeking out,
with eyes
shut, in the astral light, that current that preserved the genuine
impress of
some well-known departed entity, she identified herself for the time
being with
it, and guiding the raps made them to spell out that which she had in
her own mind,
as reflected from the astral current. Thus, if the rapping spirit
pretended to
be a Shakespeare, it was not really that great personality, but
only the echo
of the genuine thoughts that had once upon a time moved in his
brain and
crystallized themselves, so to say, in his astral sphere whence even
his shell had
departed long ago — the imperishable thoughts alone remaining. Not
a sentence,
not a word spelt by the raps that was not formed first in her brain,
in its turn
the faithful copier of that which was found by her spiritual eye in
the luminous
Record Book of departed humanity. The, so to express it,
crystallized
essence of the mind of the once physical brain was there before her
spiritual
vision; her living brain photographed it, and her will dictated its
expression by
guiding the raps which thus became intelligent.]
And though
few, if any, of us then understood clearly [86] what she meant,
yet she would
act either one way or the other, never uniting the two methods.
We chose the
former in this instance — the “spook-raps†— as the easiest to
obtain, and affording
us more amusement, and to her less trouble.
Thus, out of
the many invisible and “ distinguished †phantom visitors of
that night,
the most active and prominent among them was the alleged spirit of
Poushkine.
I beg the
reader to remember that we never for a moment believed that spook to
be really the
great poet, whose earthly remains rest in the neighbourhood of our
Rougodevo, in
the monk's territory known as the “holy mountainâ€.
We had been
warned by Mme. Blavatsky, and knew well how much we could trust to
the
communications and conversation of such unseen visitors. But the fact of our
having chosen
for that séance the “spook rapsâ€, does not at all interfere
with the
truth of that other assertion of ours, namely, that, whenever we wanted
something
genuine, and resorted to the method of “clairvoyant proxyâ€, we had
very often
communications of great power and vigor of thought, profoundly
scientific
and remarkable in every way; made not by but in the spirit of the
great defunct
personage in whose name they were given.
It is only
when we resorted to the “spook raps†that, notwithstanding the
world-known
names of the eminent personages in which the goblins of the
séance-room
love to parade, we got answers and discourses that might do honor to
a circus
clown, but hardly to a Socrates, a Cicero, or a Martin Luther. Page 87]
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL
CHAPTER 5
MM. DE
JELIHOWSKY'S NARRATIVE -CONTINUED-
I REMEMBER
that we were deeply interested in those days in reading aloud in our
little family
circle, the Memoirs of Catherine Romanovna Dashkoff, just then
published.
The interest of this remarkable historical work was greatly enhanced
to us owing
to the fact that our reading was very often interrupted by the
alleged
spirit of the authoress herself. The gaps and hiatuses of a publication,
severely
disfigured and curtailed by the censor's pen and scissors, were
constantly
filled up by comparing notes with her astral records.
By the means
of guided raps — Mme. B. refusing, as usual, to help us by direct
writing,
preferring lazily to rest in her arm-chair — we received, in the name
of the
authoress, innumerable remarks, additions, explanations, and refutations.
In some
cases, her apparent and mistaken views in the days when she wrote her
memoirs were
corrected and replaced by more genuine thoughts. [ The fact that
many of the
remarks and notes were different in their character from the
original
memoirs, and that errors and mistakes were corrected, can easily be
explained.
The old thoughts of Catherine Romanovna were expounded and corrected
in the
intellectual sphere of Madame B. The manner and nature of the expression
would not
cease to resemble that of the author, and, in the astral light, the
original of
the work, as conceived in the brain of the historian, would
certainly be
returned in preference to the mutilated views of the censor; while
the brain of
Madame B would supply the rest.] [88] All such corrections and
additional
matter given, fascinated us deeply by their profundity, their wit and
humor, often,
indeed, with the natural pathos that was one of the prominent
features of
this remarkable historical character.
But I must
return to my reminiscences of that memorable night. Thus, among other
post-mortem
visitors, we were entertained on that evening by A. Poushkine.
The poet
seemed to be in one of his melancholy and dark moments; and to our
queries, what
was the matter, what made him suffer, and what we could do for
him, he
obliged us with an extemporary poem, which I preserved, although its
character and
style are beneath criticism.
The substance
of it — which is hardly worth translation — was to the effect that
there was no
reason for us to know his secret sufferings. Why should we try to
know what he
may be wishing for ? He had but one desire: to rest on the bosom of
Death,
instead of which he was suffering in great darkness for his sins,
tortured by
devils, and had lost all hope of ever reaching the bliss of becoming
a winged
cherub, etc etc..[ In the recollection of Mme. Blavatsky, this was a
genuine
spirit-manifestation, i.e. a clumsy personification of the great poet by
passing
shells and spooks, allowed to merge into the circle for a few moments.
The rhymed
complaint speaking of hell and devils was the echo of the feelings
and thoughts
of a pious governess present ; most assuredly it was not any
reflection
from Madame Blavatsky's brain, nor would her admiring respect for the
memory of the
greatest Russian poet have ever allowed her to make such a
blasphemous
joke under the cover of his name.]
“Poor Alexander
Sergeïtch!” exclaimed Colonel Hahn, upon hearing this wretched
production
read; and so saying he rose as though in search of something. [
89] “ What
are you looking for? †we asked. “My long pipe! I have had
enough of
these cigars, and I cannot find my pipe ; where can it be ? â€
“You have
just smoked it, after supper, fatherâ€. I replied.
“I did; and
now Helen's spirits must have walked off with it or hidden it
somewhere.â€
“One, two,
three! One, two, three! †affirmed triple raps around us, as
though
mocking the old gentleman.
“Indeed!
Well, this is a foolish joke. Could not our friend Poushkine tell us
where he has
hidden it ? Do let us know, for life itself would be worthless on
this earth
without my old and faithful pipe.â€
“One, two,
three ! One, two, three ! †knocked the table.
“Is this
you, Alexander Sergei'tch ? †we asked.
At this
juncture my sister frowned angrily, and the raps suddenly stopped.
“Noâ€, she
said, after a moment's pause, “it is somebody elseâ€. And
putting her
hand upon the table she set the raps going again.
“Who is it,
then ? â€
“It is me;
your old orderly, your honor: Voronof.â€
“Ah,
Voronof! very glad to meet you again, my good fellow. . . . Now, try to
remember old
times: bring me my pipe.â€
“I would be
very happy to do so, your honor, but I am not able; somebody holds
me fast. But
you can take it yourself, your honor. See, there it is swinging
over your
head on the lamp.â€
We all raised
our heads. Verily, where a minute before there was nothing at all,
there was now
the huge Turkish pipe, placed horizontally on the alabaster shade,
and balancing
over it with its two ends sticking [90] out at both sides of
the lamp
which hung over the dining table.
This new
physical demonstration filled with astonishment even those of us who
had been
accustomed to live in a world of marvels for months. Hardly a year
before we
would not have believed even in the possibility of what we now
regarded as
perfectly proved facts.
In the early
part of the year 1859, as above stated, soon after her return to
Russia, Mme.
Blavatsky went to live with her father and sister in a country
house of a
village belonging to Mme. Jelihowsky at Rougodevo.[In the district of
Novorgeff, in
the Government of Pskoff - about 200 versts from St Peterburg. It
was at that
time a private property, a village of several hundred serfs, but
soon after
emancipation of the land passed into other hands.]
It had been
bought only a year before by my deceased husband from parties
entirely
unknown to us till then, and through an agent; and therefore no one
knew anything
of their antecedents, or even who they really were. It was quite
unexpectedly that,
owing to the sudden death of M. Yahontoff, I decided to
settle in it
for a time, with my two baby sons, our father, and my two sisters,
H. P.
Blavatsky and Lisa, the youngest, our father's only daughter by another
wife.
I could
therefore have no acquaintance with our neighbors or the landed
proprietors
of other villages, or with the relatives of the late owner of my
property. All
I knew was, that Rougodevo had been bought from a person named
Statkovsky,
the husband of the granddaughter of its late owners — a family named
Shousherin.
Who were those Shousherins, the hereditary proprietors of those
picturesque
hills and mountains, of the dense pine forests, the lovely lakes,
our old park,
and nearly as old a mansion, from the top of which one could take
a [91]
sweeping view of the country for 30 versts around, its present
proprietors
could have no conception whatever; least of all, H. P. B., who had
been out of
Russia for over ten years, and had just then returned.
It was on the
second or third evening after our arrival at Rougodevo. We were
two of us
walking along the side of the flower-beds, in front of the house.
The
ground-floor windows looked right into the flower-garden, while those of its
three other
sides were surrounded with large, old, shaded grounds.
We had
settled on the first floor, which consisted of nine or ten large rooms,
while our
elderly father occupied a suite of rooms on the ground floor, on the
right-hand
side of the long entrance hall. The rooms opposite to his, on the
left side,
were uninhabited, and in the expectation of future visitors, stood
empty, with
their doors securely locked. The rooms occupied by the servants were
at the back
of the mansion, and could not be seen from where we were. The
windows of
the empty apartment came out in bright relief, especially the room at
the left
angle ; its windows, reflecting the rays of the setting sun in full
glory, seemed
illuminated through and through with the effulgence of the bright
sunbeams.
We were
slowly walking up and down the gravel walk under the windows, and each
time that we
approached the angle of the house, my sister (H. P. B.) looked into
the windows
with a strange searching glance, and lingered on that spot, a
puzzling
expression and smile settling upon her face.
Remarking at
last her furtive glances and smiles, I wanted to know what it was
that so
attracted her attention in the empty room ?
“Shall I
tell ? Well, if you promise not to be frightened, then I mayâ€, she
answered hesitatingly.
[92]
“What
reason have I to be frightened ! Thank heaven, I see nothing myself.
Well, and
what do you see? Is it, as usual, visitors from the other world ? â€
“I could
not tell you now, Vera, for I do not know them. But if my conjectures
are right,
they do seem, if not quite the dwellers themselves, at least the
shadows of
such dwellers from another, but certainly not from our, world. I
recognize
this by certain signs.â€
“What signs
? Are their faces those of dead men ? †I asked, very nervously,
I confess.
“Oh, no!
†she said; “for in such a case I should see them as dead people
in their
beds, or in their coffins. Such sights I am familiar with. But these
men are
walking about, and look just as if alive. They have no mortal reason to
remind me of
their death, since I do not know who they are, and never knew them
alive. But
they do look so very antiquated. Their dresses are such as we see
only on old
family portraits. One, however, is an exception.â€
“How does
he look ? â€
“ Well,
this one looks as though he were a German student or an artist. He
wears a black
velvet blouse, with a wide leather sash. . . . Long hair hanging
in heavy
waves down his back and shoulders. This one is quite a young man. ...
He stands
apart, and seems to look quite in a different direction from where the
others
are.â€
We had now
again approached the angle of the house, and halting, were both
looking into
the empty room through the bright window panes. It was brilliantly
lit up by the
sunbeams of the setting sun, but the room was empty evidently, but
only for one
of us. For my sister it was full of the images probably of its
long-departed
late inmates.[93]
Mme.
Blavatsky went on looking thoughtfully, and describing what she saw.
“There,
there, he looks in our direction. See ! †she muttered, “ he looks
as though he
is startled at seeing us! Now he is there no longer. How strange!
he seems to
have melted away in that sunbeam ! â€
“Let us
call them out to-night, and ask them who they areâ€, I suggested.
“We may,
but what of that ? Can any one of them be relied upon or believed ? I
would pay any
price to be able to command and control as they, . . . some
personages I
might name, do; but I cannot. I must fail for years to comeâ€, she
added,
regretfully.
“Who are
they ? Whom do you mean ? â€
“Those who
know and can — not mediumsâ€, she contemptuously added. “But
look, look,
what a sight! Oh, see what an ugly monster! Who can it be ? â€
“Now,
what's the use in your telling me ' look, look' and see ? How can I look
when I see
nothing, not being a clairvoyant as you are. . . . Tell me, how does
that other
figure appear ? Only if it is something too dreadful, then you had
better
stopâ€, I added, feeling a cold chill creeping over me. And, seeing she
was going to
speak, I cried out, “Now, pray do not say anything more if it is
too
dreadfulâ€.
Don't be
afraid, there is nothing dreadful in it, it only seemed to me so. They
are there now
— one, however, I can see very hazily; it is a woman, and she
seems to be
always merging into and again emerging from that shadow in the
corner. Oh,
there's an old, old lady standing there and looking at me, as though
she were
alive. What a nice, kind, fat old thing she must have been. She has a
white frilled
cap on her head, a white kerchief crossed over her shoulders, a
short grey
narrow dress, and a checked apron.†[94]
“Why, you
are painting some fancy portrait of the Flemish schoolâ€, laughed
I. “Now,
look here, I am really afraid that you are mystifying me.â€
“I swear I
am not. But I am so sorry that you cannot see.â€
“Thanks;
but I am not at all sorry. Peace be upon all those ghosts ! How
horrible !
â€
“Not at all
horrible. They are all quite nice and natural, with the exception,
maybe, of
that old man.â€
“Gracious !
what old man ? â€
“A very,
very funny old man. Tall, gaunt, and with such a suffering look upon
his worn-out
face. And then it is his nails, that puzzle me. What terrible long
nails he has,
or claws rather; why, they must be over an inch long!â€
“Heaven
help us! †I could not help shrieking out. “Whom are you
describing?
Surely it must be†— I was going to say, “the devil himselfâ€,
but stopped
short, overcome by a shudder.
Unable to
control my terror, I hastily left the place under the window and stood
at a safe
distance.
The sun had
gone down, but the gold and crimson flush of its departing rays
lingered
still, tinting everything with gold — the house, the old trees of the
garden, and
the pond in the background.
The colors of
the flowers seemed doubly attractive in this brilliant light; and
only the
angle of the old house, which cut the golden hue in two, seemed to cast
a gloomy
shadow on the glorious scene. H. P. Blavatsky remained alone behind
that obscure
angle, overshadowed by the thick foliage of an oak, while I sought
a safe refuge
in the glow of the large open space near the flower-beds, and kept
urging her to
come out of her nook and enjoy instead the lovely panorama, and
look at the
[95] far-off wooded hills, with their tops still glowing in the
golden hue,
on the quiet smooth ponds and the large dormant lake, reflecting in
its
mirror-like waters the green chaotic confusion of its banks, and the ancient
chapel
slumbering in its nest of birch.
My sister
came out at last, pale and thoughtful. She was determined, she said,
to learn who
it was whom she had just seen. She felt sure the shadowy figures
were the
lingering reflections of people who had inhabited at some time those
empty rooms.
“I am puzzled to know who the old man can beâ€, she kept saying.
“Why should
he have allowed his nails to grow to such an extraordinary Chinese
length ? And
then another peculiarity, he wears a most strange-looking black
cap, very
high, and something similar to the klobouk of our monks.†[The round
tiara,
covered with a long black veil, worn by the orthodox Greek monks.]
“Do let
these horrid phantoms alone. Do not think of them! â€
“Why ? It
is very interesting, the more so since I now see them so rarely. I
wish I were
still a real medium, as the latter, I am told, are constantly
surrounded by
a host of ghosts, and that I see them now but occasionally, not as
I used to
years ago, when a child. . . . Last night, however, I saw in Lisa's
room a tall
gentleman with long whiskers.â€
“What! in
the nursery room near the children ? Oh, please, drive him away from
there, at
least. I do hope the ghost has only followed you there, and has not
made a
permanent abode of that place. How you can keep so cool, and feel no fear
when you see,
is something I could never understand ! â€
“And why
should I fear them ? They are harmless in most cases, unless
encouraged.
Then I am too [96] accustomed to such sights to experience even
a passing
uneasiness. If anything, I feel disgust, and a contemptuous pity for
the poor
spooks! In fact, I feel convinced that all of us mortals are constantly
surrounded by
millions of such shadows, the last mortal image left of themselves
by their
ex-proprietors.â€
“Then you
think that these ghosts are all of them the reflection of the dead ?
â€
“I am
convinced of it — in fact, / know it ! â€
“ Why,
then, in such a case, are we not constantly surrounded by those who
were so near
and dear to us, by our loved relatives and friends ? Why are we
allowed to be
pestered only by a host of strangers, to suffer the uninvited
presence of
the ghosts of people whom we never knew, nor do we care for them ?
â€
“A
difficult query to answer! How often, how earnestly, have I tried to see
and recognize
among the shadows that haunted me some one of our dear relatives,
or even a
friend! . . . Stray acquaintances, and distant relatives, for whom I
care little,
I have occasionally recognized, but they never seemed to pay any
attention to
me, and whenever I saw them it was always unexpected and
independently
of my will. How I longed from the bottom of my soul, how I have
tried — all
in vain ! As much as I can make out of it, it is not the living who
attract the
dead, but rather the localities they have inhabited, those places
where they
have lived and suffered, and where their personalities and outward
forms have
been most impressed on the surrounding atmosphere. Say, shall we call
some of your
old servants, those who have been born and lived in this place all
their lives ?
I feel sure that, if we describe to them some of the forms I have
just seen,
that they will recognize in them people they knew, and who have died
here.†[97]
The
suggestion was good, and it was immediately put to the test; we took our
seats on the
steps of the entrance door, and sent a servant to inquire who were
the oldest
serfs in the compound. An ancient tailor, named Timothy, who lived
for years
exempt from any obligatory work on account of his services and old
age, and the
chief gardener, Oulyan, a man about sixty, soon made their
appearance. I
felt at first a little embarrassed, and put some commonplace
questions,
asking who it was who built one of the outhouses near by. Then I put
the direct
query, whether there had ever lived in the house an old man, very
strange to
look at, with a high black head-gear, terribly long nails, wearing
habitually a
long grey coat, etc., etc.
No sooner had
I given this description than the two old peasants, interrupting
each other,
and with great volubility, exclaimed affirmatively that they “Knew
well who it
was whom the young mistress described.â€
“Don't we
know him ? of course we do — why, it is our late barrin (master)!
Just as he
used to be — our deceased master Nikolay Mihaylovitch ! â€
“Statkowsky
? â€
“No, no,
mistress. Statkowsky was the young master, and he is not dead; he was
our nominal
master only, owing to his marriage with Natalya Nikolavna — our late
master's,
Nikolay Mihaylovitch Shousherin's granddaughter. And, as you have
described
him, it is him, for sure — our late master, Shousherin.â€
My sister and
I interchanged a furtive glance. “We have heard of himâ€, said
I, unwilling
to take the servants into our confidence, †but did not feel sure
it was he.
But why was he wearing such a strange-looking cap, and, as it seemed,
never cut his
nails ? â€
“This was
owing to a disease, mistress — an incurable [98] disease, as we
were told,
that the late master caught while in Lithuania, where he had resided
for years. It
is called the Koltoun,[The “plica polonica”, a terrible skin
complaint,
very common in Lithuania, and contracted only in its climate. The
hair, as is
well known, is grievously diseased, nor can nails on the fingers and
toes be
touched, their cutting leading to a bleeding to death] if you have heard
of it. He
could neither cut his hair nor pare his nails, and had to cover
constantly
his head with a tall velvet cap, like a priest's cap.â€
“Well, and
how did your mistress, Mrs Shousherin, look ? â€
The tailor
gave a description in no way resembling the Dutch-looking old lady
seen by Mme.
Blavatsky. Further cross-examination elicited, however, that the
woman, in her
semi-Flemish costume, was Mina Ivanovna, a German housekeeper, who
had resided
in the house for over twenty years; and the young man, who looked
like a German
student in his velvet blouse, was really such a student who had
come from
Göttingen. He was the youngest brother of Mr Statkowsky, who had died
in Rougodevo,
of consumption, about three years before our arrival. This was not
all,
moreover. We found out that the corner room in which H. P. B. had seen on
that evening,
as she has later on, on many other occasions, the phantoms of all
these
deceased personages of Rougodevo, had been made to serve for every one of
them, either
as a death-chamber when they had breathed their last, or had been
converted for
their benefit into a mortuary-chamber when they had been laid out
awaiting
burial. It was from this suite of apartments, in which their bodies had
invariably
passed from three to five days, that they had been [99] carried
away into
yonder old chapel, on the other side of the lake, that was so well
seen, and had
been examined by us from the windows of our sitting-room.
Since that
day, not only H. P. B., but even her little sister, Lisa, a child of
nine years
old, saw more than once strange forms gliding noiselessly along the
corridors of
the old house, so full of lingering events of the past, and of the
images of
those who had passed away from it. The child, strange to say, feared
the restless
ghosts no more than her elder sister; the former taking them
innocently
for living persons, and concerned but with the interesting problem,
“where they
had come from, who they were, and why no one except her ' old'
sister and
herself ever consented to notice them.â€
She thought
this very rude — the little lady. Luckily for the child, and owing
perhaps to
the efforts of her sister, Mme. Blavatsky, the faculty left her very
soon, never
to return during her subsequent life.[The young lady is now over
thirty, and
was saying but last year how lucky it was for her that she no longer
saw these
trans-terrestrial visitors.] As for Helena Petrovna, it never left her
from her very
childhood. So strong is this weird faculty in her that it is a
rare case
when she has to learn of the death of a relative, a friend, or even an
old servant
of the family from a letter. We have given up advising her of any
such sad
events, the dead invariably precede the news, and tell her themselves
of their
demise; and we receive a letter in which she describes the way she saw
this or that
departed person, at the same time, and often before the post
carrying our
notification could have reached her, as it will be shown further
on.
[The pamphlet
already referred to, Personal and Family Reminiscences, by Mme.
Jelihowsky,
may here [100] be laid under contribution in reference to
incidents
taking place at the period we are now dealing with.]
Having
settled in our property at Rougodevo, we found ourselves as though
suddenly
transplanted into an enchanted world, in which we got gradually so
accustomed to
see self-moving furniture, things transferred from one place to
another, in
the most inexplicable way, and to the strong interference with, and
presence in,
our matter-of-fact daily life of some unknown to us, yet
intelligent
power, that we all ended by paying very little attention to it,
though the
phenomenal facts struck everyone else as being simply miraculous.
Verily, habit
becomes second nature with men! Our father, who had premised by
saying that
he gave permission to everyone to incarcerate him in a lunatic
asylum on
that day that he would believe that a table could move, fly, or become
rooted to the
spot at the desire of those present, now passed his days and parts
of his nights
talking with “Helen's spiritsâ€, as he called it. They informed
him of
numerous events and details pertaining to the lives of his ancestors, the
Counts Hahn
von Rottenstern Hahn; offered to get back for him certain
title-deeds,
and told us such interesting legends and witty anecdotes, that
unbelievers
as well as believers could hardly help feeling interested. It often
happened that
my sister, being occupied with her reading, we — our father, the
governess,
and myself — unwilling to disturb her, communicated with the
invisible
power, mentally and in silence, simply thinking out our questions, and
writing down
the letters rapped out either on the walls or the table near us.
... I
remember having had a remarkable phenomenon of this kind, at a station in
the Swyatee
Goree (Holy Mountains), where the poet A. Poushkine is buried, and
when my
sister was fast [101] asleep. Things were told to me, of which
positively no
one in this world could know anything, I alone being the
depositary of
these secrets, together with an old gentleman living for years on
his far-away
property. I had not seen him for six years; my sister had never
heard of him,
as I had made his acquaintance two years after she had left
Russia.
During that mental conversation, names, dates, and the appellation of
his property
were given to me. I had thought and asked, Where is he who loved me
more than
anyone on this earth ? Easy to know that I had my late husband in my
mind. Instead
of that, I received in answer a name I had long forgotten. First I
felt
perplexed, then indignant, and finally the idea became so comical that I
burst out in
a fit of laughter, that awoke my sister. How can you prove to me
that you do
not lie ? I asked my invisible companions. Remember the second
volume of
Byron's poetry, was the answer I received. I became cold with horror !
No one had
ever been told of it, and I myself had forgotten for years that
circumstance
which was now told to me in all its details, namely, that being in
the habit of
sending books, and a series of English classics for me to read,
that
gentleman, old enough to be my grandfather, had thought of offering
marriage to
me, and found no better means for it than by inserting in Volume II.
of Byron's
works a letter to that effect. ... Of course my “informersâ€,
whoever they
were, played upon me a wicked trick by reminding me of these facts,
yet their
omniscience had been brilliantly proven to me by them in this case.
It is most
extraordinary that our silent conversations with that intelligent
force that
had ever manifested itself in my sister's presence were found by us
the most successful
during her sleep, or when she was very ill. [102] Once
a young
physician, who visited us for the first time, got so terribly frightened
at the
noises, and the moving about of things in her room when she was on her
bed lying
cold and senseless, that he nearly fainted himself. Such tragi-comical
scenes
happened very often in our house, but the most remarkable of all such
have already
been told in the pages of the Rebus, in 1883, as having taken place
during her
two years' stay with us. As an eye-witness, I can only once more
testify to
all the facts described, without entering upon the question of the
agency that
produced them, or the nature of the agents. But I may recall some
additional
inexplicable phenomena that occurred at that time, testified to by
other members
of our family, though some of them I have not witnessed myself.
All the
persons living on the premises, with the household members, saw
constantly,
often in full noonday, vague human shadows walking about the rooms,
appearing in
the garden, in the flower-beds in front of the house, and near the
old chapel.
My father (once the greatest sceptic), Mademoiselle Leontine, the
governess of
our younger sister, told me many a time, that they had just met and
seen such
figures quite plainly. Moreover, Leontine found very often in her
locked
drawers, and her trunks, some very mysterious letters, containing family
secrets known
to her alone, over which she wept, reading them incessantly during
whole weeks; and
I am forced to confess that once or twice the events foretold
in them came
to pass as they had been prophesied to us.
[Some
comments on various parts of the foregoing narrative, furnished by Mme.
Blavatsky
herself, will here be read with interest. She says she has tried with
the most
famous mediums to evoke and communicate with those dearest to her, and
whose loss
she had deplored, but could never succeed.“Communications and
messagesâ€
[103] she certainly did receive, and got their signatures, and
on two
occasions their materialized forms, but the communications were couched
in a vague
and gushing language quite unlike the style she knew so well. Their
signatures,
as she has ascertained, were obtained from her own brain; and on no
occasion, when
the presence of a relation was announced and the form described
by the
medium, who was ignorant of the fact that Mme. Blavatsky could see as
well as any
of them, has she recognized the “spirit†of the alleged relative
in the host
of spooks and elementaries that surrounded them (when the medium was
a genuine one
of course). Quite the reverse. For she often saw, to her disgust,
how her own
recollections and brain-images were drawn from her memory and
disfigured in
the confused amalgamation that took place between their reflection
in the
medium's brain, which instantly sent them out, and the shells which
sucked them
in like a sponge and objectivised them — “a hideous shape with a
mask on in my
sightâ€, she tells us. “Even the materialized form of my uncle
at the Eddys'
was the picture; it was I who sent it out from my own mind, as I
had come out
to make experiments without telling it to anyone. It was like an
empty outer
envelope of my uncle that I seemed to throw on the medium's astral
body. I saw
and followed the process, I knew Will Eddy was a genuine medium, and
the
phenomenon as real as it could be, and therefore, when days of trouble came
for him, I
defended him in the papers. In short, for all the years of experience
in America, I
never succeeded in identifying, in one single instance, those I
wanted to
see. It is only in my dreams and personal visions that I was brought
in direct
contact with my own blood relatives and friends, those between whom
and myself
there had been a strong mutual spiritual loveâ€. Her conviction
[104]
therefore, based as much on her personal experience as on that of the
teachings of
the occult doctrine, is as follows: — “For certain
psycho-magnetic
reasons, too long to be explained here, the shells of those
spirits who
loved us best will not, with a very few exceptions, approach us.
They have no
need of it since, unless they were irretrievably wicked, they have
us with them
in Devachan, that state of bliss in which the monads are surrounded
with all
those, and that, which they have loved — objects of spiritual
aspirations
as well as human entities. ' Shells ' once separated from their
higher
principles have nought in common with the latter. They are not drawn to
their
relatives and friends, but rather to those with whom their terrestrial,
sensuous
affinities are the strongest. Thus the shell of a drunkard will be
drawn to one
who is either a drunkard already or has a germ of this passion in
him, in which
case they will develop it by using his organs to satisfy their
craving; one
who died full of sexual passion for a still living partner will
have its
shell drawn to him or her, etc.. We Theosophists, and especially
occultists,
must never lose sight of the profound axiom of the Esoteric Doctrine
which teaches
us that it is we, the living, who are drawn towards the spirits —
but that the
latter can never, even though they would, descend to us, or rather
into our
sphere.â€] [105]
-------Cardiff Theosophical Society in Wales-------
206 Newport Road, Cardiff, Wales, UK. CF24-1DL
CHAPTER 6
MM. DE
JELIHOWSKY'S NARRATIVE - (CONTINUED)
THE quiet
life of the sisters at Rougodevo was brought to an end by a terrible
illness which
befell Mme. Blavatsky. Years before, perhaps during her solitary
travels in
the steppes of Asia, she had received a remarkable wound. We could
never learn
how she had met with it. Suffice to say that the profound wound
reopened
occasionally, and during that time she suffered intense agony, often
bringing on
convulsions and a death-like trance. The sickness used to last from
three to four
days, and then the wound would heal as suddenly as it had
reopened, as
though an invisible hand had closed it, and there would remain no
trace of her
illness. But the affrighted family was ignorant at first of this
strange
peculiarity, and their despair and fear were great indeed. A physician
was sent for
to the neighboring town; but he proved of little use, not so much
indeed
through his ignorance of surgery, as owing to a remarkable phenomenon
which left
him almost powerless to act through sheer terror at what he had
witnessed. He
had hardly examined the wound of the patient prostrated before him
in complete
unconsciousness, when suddenly he saw a large, dark hand between his
own and the
wound he was going to anoint. The gaping wound was near the heart,
and the hand
kept slowly moving at several intervals [106] from the neck
down to the
waist. To make his terror worse, there began suddenly in the room
such a
terrific noise, such a chaos of noises and sounds from the ceiling, the
floor,
window-panes, and every bit of furniture in the apartment, that he begged
he might not
be left alone in the room with the insensible patient.
In the spring
of 1860 both sisters left Rougodevo for the Caucasus, on a visit
to their
grandparents, whom they had not seen for long years.
During the
three weeks' journey from Moscow to Tiflis, performed in a coach with
post horses,
there occurred many a strange manifestation.
At Zadonsk —
the territory of the Cossack army of the Don, a place of pilgrimage
in Russia,
where the holy relics of St Tihon are preserved — we halted for rest,
and I
prevailed upon my lazy sister to accompany me to the church to hear the
mass. We had
learned that on that day church service would be conducted near the
said relics
by the then Metropolitan [One of the three “Popes” of Russia, so to
say, the
highest of the ecclesiastical hierarchy of the Orthodox Greek Church]
of Kiew (at
present, in 1884, the Metropolitan of St Petersburg), the famous and
learned
Isidore, [Now a man past ninety years of age] whom both of us had well
known in our
childhood and youth at Tiflis, where he was for so many years the
Exarch [The
spiritual chief of all the archbishops, and the head of the Church
in Georgia]
of Georgia (Caucasus). He had been a friend of our family for years,
and had often
visited us. During service the venerable old man recognized us,
and
immediately dispatched a monk after us, with an invitation to visit him at
the Lord
Archbishop's house. He received us with great kindness. But hardly had
we taken our
seats in the drawing-room of the Holy [107] Metropolitan than
a terrible
hubbub, noises, and loud raps in every conceivable direction burst
suddenly upon
us with a force to which even we were hardly accustomed; every bit
of furniture
in the big audience room cracked and thumped — from the huge
chandelier
under the ceiling, every one of whose crystal drops seemed to become
endowed with
self-motion, down to the table, and under the very elbows of his
holiness who
was leaning on it.
Useless to
say how confused and embarrassed we looked — though truth compels me
to say that
my irreverent sister's embarrassment was tempered with a greater
expression of
fun than I would have wished for. The Metropolitan Isidore saw at
a glance our
confusion, and understood, with his habitual sagacity, the true
cause of it.
He had read a good deal about the so-called “spiritualâ€
manifestations,
and on seeing a huge armchair gliding toward him, laughed, and
felt a good
deal interested in this phenomenon. He inquired which of us two
sisters had
such a strange power, and wanted to know when and how it had begun
to manifest
itself. We explained to him all the particulars as well as we could,
and after
listening very attentively, he suddenly asked Mme. Blavatsky if she
would permit
him to offer her “invisible†a mental question. Of course, his
holiness was
welcome to it, she answered. We do not feel at liberty to publish
what the
question was. But when his very serious query had received an immediate
answer —
precise and to the very point he wanted it to be — his holiness was so
struck with
amazement, and felt so anxious and interested in the phenomenon,
that he would
not let us go, and detained us with him for over three hours. He
had even
forgotten his dinner. Giving orders not to be interrupted, the
venerable
gentleman continued to hold conversation with [108] his unseen
visitors,
expressing all the while his profound astonishment at their
“all-knowledgeâ€.
[Vseznaïstvo - the word used can hardly be translated by
the term
omniscience; it is an attribute of a less absolute character, and
refers to the
things of the earth.]
When bidding
good-bye to us, the venerable old man blessed the travelers, and,
turning to
Mme. Blavatsky, addressed to her these parting words: —
“As for
you, let not your heart be troubled by the gift you are possessed of,
nor let it
become a source of misery to you hereafter, for it was surely given
to you for
some purpose, and you could not be held responsible for it. Quite the
reverse ! for
if you but use it with discrimination, you will be enabled to do
much good to
your fellow-creatures.â€
These are the
authentic words of His Holiness, Isidore, the Metropolitan of our
Orthodox
Greek Church of Russia, addressed by him in my presence to my sister
Mme.
Blavatsky. [The Russian Censor has not allowed this letter to appear in the
Rebus in the
original.]
At one of the
stations where we had to change horses, the station-master told us
very brutally
that there were no fresh horses for us, and that we had to wait.
The sun had
not yet gone down, it was full moon, the roads were good, and with
all this, we
were made to lose several hours ! This was provoking. Nevertheless
there was
nothing to be done, the more so as the station-master, who was too
drunk to be
reasoned with, had found fit to disappear, and refused to come and
talk with us.
We had to take the little unpleasantness as easily as we could,
and settle
ourselves as best we knew how for the night; but even here we found
an
impediment. The small station-house had but one room for the travelers [
109] near a
hot and dirty kitchen, and even that one was locked and bolted, and
no one would
open the door for us without special orders. Mme. Blavatsky was
beginning to
lose patience.
“Well, this
is fine ! †she went on. “We are refused horses, and even the
room we are
entitled to is shut for us ! Why is it shut ? Now, I want to know
and insist
upon itâ€. But there was no one to tell us the reason why, for the
station-house
seemed utterly empty, and there was not a soul to be seen about.
H. P. B.
approached the little low windows of the locked room, and flattened her
face against
the window panes. “A-ha!†she suddenly exclaimed; “that's
what it is !
Very well, then, and now I can force the drunken brute to give us
horses in
five minutes.â€
And she
started off in search of the station-master. Curious to know what secret
there was in
the mysterious room, I approached the window in my turn, and tried
to fathom its
unknown regions. But although the inside of the room was perfectly
visible
through the window, yet my uninitiated eyes could see nothing in it save
the ordinary
furniture of a dirty station-house, dirty as they all are.
Nevertheless,
to my delight and surprise, ten minutes had not passed when three
excellent and
strong post-horses were brought out, under the supervision of the
station-master
himself, who, pale and confused, had become, as though by magic,
polite and
full of obsequiousness. In a few minutes our carriage was ready, and
we continued
our journey.
To my
question what sorcery had helped her to achieve such change in the drunken
station-master,
who but a moment before would pay no attention to us, Mme.
Blavatsky
only laughed. [110]
“Profit,
and ask no questions!†she said. “Why should you be so
inquisitive ?
†It was but on the following day that she condescended to tell
me that the
wretched station-master must have most certainly taken her for a
witch. It
appears that upon finding him in a back-yard, she had shouted to him
that the
person whose body had been just standing in a coffin in the
“travelers'
room†was there again, and asked him not to detain us, for we
would
otherwise insist upon our right to enter into the room, and would disturb
her spirit
thereby. And when the man upon hearing this opened his eyes, without
appearing to
understand what she was referring to, Mme. Blavatsky hastened then
to tell him
that she was speaking of his deceased wife, whom he had just buried,
and who was
there, and would be there, in that room until we had gone away. She
then
proceeded to describe the ghost in such a minute way that the unfortunate
widower
became as pale as death itself, and hurried away to order fresh horses !
Some
interesting details concerning Mme. Blavatsky's family home at Tiflis have
been
published quite lately in a Russian memoir, “Reminiscences of Prince A.
T.
Bariatinskyâ€, by General P. S. Nikolaeff, formerly his aide-de-camp at
Tiflis. This
memoir appears in the Historical Vyestnick (Messenger], a Russian
magazine of
high repute, dedicated, as its name shows, to historical Notes,
Memoirs, and
Biographies. Referring to the family of the Fadeefs, General
Nikolaeff,
writing of a period coincident with that of Mme. Blavatsky's visit to
Tiflis, says:
—
“They were
living in those years in the ancient mansion of the Princes
Tchavtchavadze,
the great building itself carrying the imprint of something
weird or
peculiar about it — something that carried one back to the epoch of
Catherine the
Great. A long, lofty, and [111] gloomy hall was hung with the
family
portraits of the Fadeefs and the Princes Dolgorouky. Further on was a
drawing-room,
its walls covered with Gobelin tapestry, a present from the
Empress
Catherine, and near at hand was the apartment of Mademoiselle N. A.
Fadeef — in
itself one of the most remarkable of private museums. The collection
gathered into
this museum attracted attention by their great variety. There were
brought
together the arms and weapons from all the countries of the world;
ancient
crockery, cups, and goblets, archaic house utensils, Chinese and
Japanese
idols, mosaics and images of the Byzantine epoch, Persian and Turkish
carpets, and
fabrics worked with gold and silver, statues, pictures, paintings,
petrified
fossils, and, finally, a very rare and most precious library.
“The
emancipation of the serfs had altered in no way the daily life of the
Fadeefs. The
whole enormous host of their valetaille (ex-serfs), [Forty men and
women; and
this for twenty-two years in Tiflis, where old General Fadeef was one
of the three
Imperial Councillors on the council under the Viceroys from Prince
Porontzoff to
the Grand Duke Michael] having remained with the family as before
their
freedom, only now receiving wages ; and all went on as before with the
members of
that family — that is to say, luxuriously and plentifully (it means
in their
usual hospitable and open way of living). I loved to pass my evenings
in that home.
At precisely a quarter to eleven o'clock, the old general,
brushing
along the parquets with his warmly muffled-up feet, retired to his
apartments.
At that same moment, hurriedly and in silence, the supper was
brought in on
trays, and served in the interior rooms; and immediately after
this the
drawing-room doors would be closely shut, and an animated conversation
take place on
every topic. Modern literature was reviewed and criticized,
contemporary
social questions from Russian life discussed; at one time it was
the
narratives of some visitor, a foreign traveler, or an account given of a
recent
skirmish by one of its heroes, some sunburnt officer just returned from
the battlefield
(in the Caucasian Mountains), would be [112] eagerly
listened to;
at another time the antiquated old Spanish-mason (then an officer
in the
Russian army), Quartano, would drop in and give us thrilling stories from
the wars of
Napoleon the Great. Or, again, 'Radda Bay' — H. P. Blavatsky, the
granddaughter
of General A. M. Fadeef — would put in an appearance, and was made
to call forth
from her past some stormy episode of her American life and travels
; when the
conversation would be sure to turn suddenly upon the mystic subjects,
and she
herself commence to ' evoke spirits.' And then the tall candles would
begin to burn
low, hardly flickering toward the end, the human figures on the
Gobelin
tapestry would seem to awaken and move, and each of us feel queer from
an
involuntary creeping sensation; and this generally lasted until the eastern
portion of
the sky began itself to pale, on the dark face of the southern
night.â€
Mme.
Blavatsky resided at Tiflis less than two years, and not more than three in
the Caucasus.
The last year she passed roaming about in Imeretia, Georgia, and
Mingrelia.
Throughout the Trans-Caucasian country, and all along the coasts of
the Black
Sea, the various peoples, notwithstanding that their Christian
persuasion
dates from the fourth century A.D., are as superstitious as any
Pagan,
especially the half-savage, warlike Apkhasians, the Imeretenes, and the
Mingrelians —
the descendants, perhaps, of those ancient Greeks who came with
Jason in
search of the Golden Fleece; for, according to historical legend, it is
the site of
the archaic Colchide, and the river Rion (Pharsis) rolled once upon
a time its
rapid waves upon golden sand and ore instead of the modern gravel and
stones.
Therefore it was but natural that the princes and the landed
“noblemenâ€,
who live in their “castles†scattered through, and stuck
like nests in
thick foliage, in the dense woods and forests of Mingrelia and
Imeretia, and
who, hardly half a century back, were nearly all [113]
half-brigands
when not full-blown highwaymen, who are fanatical as Neapolitan
monks, and
ignorant as Italian noblemen — that they should, we say, have viewed
such a
character as was then Mme. Blavatsky in the light of a witch, when not in
that of a
beneficent magician. As, later in life, wherever she went, her friends
in those days
were many, but her enemies still more numerous. If she cured and
helped those
who believed themselves sincerely bewitched, it was only to make
herself cruel
enemies of those who were supposed to have bewitched and spoiled
the victims.
Refusing the presents and “thanks†of those she relieved of the
“evil
eye†— she rejected, at the same time, with equal contempt, the bribes
offered by
their enemies. No one, at any rate, and whatever her other faults may
be, has
succeeded in showing her a mercenary character, or one bent upon
money-making
for any motive. Thus, while people of the class of the Princes
Gouriel, and
of the Princes Dadiani and Abashedsé, were ranked among her best
friends, some
others — all those who had a family hatred for the above named —
were, of
course, her sworn enemies. In those days, we believe even now, these
countries —
especially Mingrelia and Imeretia — were regular hot-beds of titled
paupers; of
princes, descendants of deposed and conquered sovereigns, and feud
raged among
them as during the Middle Ages. These were and have remained her
enemies.,
Some years later, to these were added all the bigots, church-goers,
missionaries,
to say nothing of American and English spiritualists, French
spiritists,
and their host of mediums. Stories after stories were invented of
her,
circulated and accepted by all, except those who knew her well — as facts.
Calumny was
rife, and her enemies now hesitate at no falsehood that can injure
her
character.[114]
She defied
them all, and would submit to no restraint; would stoop to adopt no
worldly
method of propitiating public opinion. She avoided society, showing her
scorn of its
idols, and was therefore treated as a dangerous iconoclast. All her
sympathies
went toward, and with, that tabooed portion of humanity which society
pretends to
ignore and avoid, while secretly running after its more or less
renowned
members — the necromancers, the obsessed, the possessed, and such like
mysterious
personages. The native Koodiani (magicians, sorcerers), Persian
thaumaturgists,
and old Armenian hags — healers and fortune-tellers — were the
first she
generally sought out and took under her protection. Finally public
opinion
became furious, and society — that mysterious somebody in general, and
nobody in
particular — made an open levee of arms against one of its own members
who dared to
defy its time-hallowed laws, and act as no respectable person would
— namely,
roaming in the forests alone, on horseback, and preferring smoky huts
and their
dirty inmates to brilliant drawing-rooms and their frivolous denizens.
Her occult
powers all this while, instead of weakening, became every day
stronger, and
she seemed finally to subject to her direct will every kind of
manifestation.
The whole country was talking of her. The superstitious Gooriel
and
Mingrelian nobility began very soon to regard her as a magician, and people
came from
afar off to consult her about their private affairs. She had long
since given
up communication through raps, and preferred — what was a far more
rapid and
satisfactory method — to answer people either verbally or by means of
direct
writing. [This was done always in full consciousness, and simply, as she
explained,
watching people's thoughts as they evolved out of their head in
spiral
luminous smoke, sometimes in jets of what might be taken for some radiant
material, and
settled in distinct pictures and images around them. Often such
thoughts and
answers to them would find themselves impressed in her own brain,
couched in
words and sentences in the same way as original thoughts do. But, so
far as we are
all able to understand, the former visions are always more
trustworthy,
as they are independent and distinct from the seer’s own
impressions,
belonging to pure clairvoyance, not “thought transference”, which
is a process
always liable to get mixed up with one’s own more vivid mental
impressions.]
At times, during such process, Mme [115] Blavatsky seemed to
fall into a
kind of coma, or magnetic sleep, with eyes wide open, though even
then her hand
never ceased to move, and continued its writing.[“Very naturally”,
she explains,
“since it was neither magnetic sleep", nor coma, but simply a
state of
intense concentration, an attention only too necessary during such
concentration,
when the least distraction leads to a mistake. People knowing but
of mediumistic
clairvoyance, and not of our philosophy and mode of operation,
often fall
into such error”.] When thus answering mental questions, the answers
were rarely
unsatisfactory. Generally they astonished the querists — friends and
enemies.
Meanwhile
sporadic phenomena were gradually dying away in her presence. They
still
occurred, but very rarely, though they were always very remarkable. We
give one.
It must,
however, be explained that, some months previous to that event, Mme.
Blavatsky was
taken very ill. From the verbal statements of her relatives,
recorded
under their dictation, we learn that no doctor could understand her
illness. It
was one of those mysterious nervous diseases that baffle science,
and elude the
grasp of everyone but a very expert psychologist. Soon after the
commencement
of that illness, she began — as she repeatedly told her friends —
“to lead a
double lifeâ€. What she meant by it, no one of [116] the good
people of
Mingrelia could understand, of course. But this is how she herself
describes
that state: —
“Whenever I
was called by name, I opened my eyes upon hearing it, and was
myself, my
own personality in every particular. As soon as I was left alone,
however, I
relapsed into my usual, half-dreamy condition, and became somebody
else (who,
namely, Madame. B. will not tell). I had simply a mild fever that
consumed me
slowly but surely, day after day, with entire loss of appetite, and
finally of
hunger, as I would feel none for days, and often went a week without
touching any
food whatever, except a little water, so that in four months I was
reduced to a
living skeleton. In cases when I was interrupted, when in my other
self, by the
sound of my present name being pronounced, and while I was
conversing in
my dream life — say at half a sentence either spoken by me or
those who
were with my second me at the time — and opened my eyes to answer the
call, I used
to answer very rationally, and understood all, for I was never
delirious. But
no sooner had I closed my eyes again than the sentence which had
been
interrupted was completed by my other self, continued from the word, or
even half the
word, it had stopped at. When awake, and myself, I remembered well
who I was in
my second capacity, and what I had been and was doing. When
somebody
else, i.e. the personage I had become, I know I had no idea of who was
H. P.
Blavatsky! I was in another far-off country, a totally different
individuality
from myself, and had no connection at all with my actual life.â€
Such is Mme.
Blavatsky's analysis of her state at that time. She was residing
then at
Ozoorgetty, a military settlement in Mingrelia, where she had bought a
house. It is
a little town, lost among the old forests and woods, which, in
those days,
had neither roads nor conveyances, save of the most primitive kind,
and [117]
which, to the very time of the last Russo-Turkish war, was
unknown
outside of Caucasus. The only physician of the place, the army surgeon,
could make
nothing of her symptoms; but as she was visibly and rapidly
declining, he
packed her off to Tiflis to her friends. Unable to go on
horseback,
owing to her great weakness, and a journey in a cart being deemed
dangerous,
she was sent off in a large native boat along the river — a journey
of four days
to Kutais — with four native servants only to take care of her.
What took
place during that journey we are unable to state precisely; nor is
Mme.
Blavatsky herself certain of it, since her weakness was so great that she
lay like one
apparently dead until her arrival. In that solitary boat, on a
narrow river,
hedged on both sides by centenarian forests, her position must
have been
precarious.
The little
stream they were sailing along was, though navigable, rarely, if
ever, used as
a means of transit, at any rate not before the war. Hence the
information
we have got came solely from her servants and was very confused. It
appears,
however, that as they were gliding slowly along the narrow stream,
cutting its
way between two steep and woody banks, the servants were several
times during
three consecutive nights frightened out of their senses by seeing,
what they
swore was their mistress, gliding off from the boat, and across the
water in the
direction of the forests, while the body of that same mistress was
lying
prostrate on her bed at the bottom of the boat. Twice the man who towed
the canoe,
upon seeing the “formâ€, ran away shrieking, and in great terror.
Had it not
been for a faithful old servant who was taking care of her, the boat
and the
patient would have been abandoned [118] in the middle of the
stream. On
the last evening, the servant swore he saw two figures, while the
third — his
mistress, in flesh and bone — was sleeping before his eyes. No
sooner had
they arrived at Koutaïs, where Mme. Blavatsky had a distant relative
residing,
than all the servants, with the exception of the old butler, left her,
and returned
no more.
It was with
great difficulty that she was transported to Tiflis. A carriage and
a friend of
the family were sent to meet her; and she was brought into the house
of her
friends apparently dying.
She never
talked upon that subject with anyone. But, as soon as she was restored
to life and
health, she left the Caucasus, and went to Italy. Yet it was before
her departure
from the country in 1863 that the nature of her powers seems to
have entirely
changed.
One
afternoon, very weak and delicate still, after the illness just described,
Mme. Blavatsky
came in to her aunt's, N. A. Fadeef's, room. After a few words of
conversation,
remarking that she felt tired and sleepy, she was offered to rest
upon a sofa.
Hardly had her head touched her cushion when she fell into a
profound
sleep. Her aunt had quietly resumed some writing she had interrupted to
talk with her
niece, when suddenly soft but quite audible steps in the room
behind her
chair made her rapidly turn her head to see who was the intruder, as
she was
anxious that Mme. Blavatsky should not be disturbed. The room was empty!
there was no
other living person in it but herself and her sleeping niece, yet
the steps
continued audibly, as though of a heavy person treading softly, the
floor creaking
all the while. They approached the sofa, and suddenly ceased.
Then she
heard stronger sounds, as though someone was whispering near Mme.
Blavatsky,
and [119] presently a book placed on a table near the sofa was
seen by N. A.
Padeef to open, and its pages kept turning to and fro, as if an
invisible
hand were busy at it. Another book was snatched from the library
shelves, and
flew in that same direction.
More
astonished than frightened — for everyone in the house had been trained in
and become quite
familiar with such manifestations — N. A. Fadeef arose from her
arm-chair to
awaken her niece, hoping thereby to put a stop to the phenomena;
but at the
same moment a heavy arm-chair moved at the other end of the room, and
rattling on
the floor, glided toward the sofa. The noise it made awoke Mme.
Blavatsky,
who, upon opening her eyes, inquired of the invisible presence what
was the
matter. A few more whisperings, and all relapsed into quietness and
silence, and
there was nothing more of the sort during the rest of the evening.
At the date
at which we write, every phenomenon independent of her will, except
such as the
one described, and that Mme. Blavatsky attributes to quite a
different
cause than spiritual manifestations, has for more than twenty years
entirely
ceased. At what time this complete change in her occult powers was
wrought we
are unable to say, as she was far away from our observation, and
spoke of it
but rarely — never unless distinctly asked in our correspondence to
answer the
question. From her letters we learnt that she was always traveling,
rarely
settling for any length of time in one place. And we believe her
statements
with regard to her powers to have been entirely true when she wrote
to tell us,
“Now (in 1866) I shall never be subjected to external
influences.â€
It is not H. P. B. who was from that time forth victim to “
influencesâ€
which would have without doubt triumphed over a less strong nature
than was
hers; [120] but, on the contrary, it is she who subjected these
influences —
whatever they may be — to her will.
“The last
vestige of my psycho-physical weakness is gone, to return no
moreâ€,
writes Mme. Blavatsky in a letter to a relation. “I am cleansed and
purified of
that dreadful attraction to myself of stray spooks and ethereal
affinities. I
am free, free, thanks to THOSE whom I now bless at every hour of
my lifeâ€.
“I believe in this statementâ€, said, in a conversation in May
1884 at
Paris, her sister, Mme. Jelihowsky, “ the more so as for nearly five
years we had
a personal opportunity of following the various and gradual phases
in the
transformations of that force. At Pskoff and Rougodevo it happened very
often that
she could not control, nor even stop, its manifestations. After that
she appeared
to master it more fully every day, until after her extraordinary
and
protracted illness at Tiflis she seemed to defy and subject it entirely to
her will.
This was proved by her stopping any such phenomena at her will, and by
previous
arrangement for days and weeks at a time. Then, when the term was over,
she could
produce them at her command, and leaving the choice of what should
happen to
those present. In short, as already said, it is the firm belief of all
that there,
where a less strong nature would have been surely wrecked in the
struggle, her
indomitable will found somehow or other the means of subjecting
the world of
the invisibles — to the denizens of which she has ever refused the
name of “spiritsâ€
and souls — to her own control. Let it be clearly
understood,
however, that H. P. B. has never pretended to be able to control
real spirits,
i.e. the spiritual monads, but only Elementals; as also to be able
to keep at
bay the shells of the dead.â€] [121]
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CHAPTER 7
FROM
APPRENTICESHIP TO DUTY
PROBABLY the
years 1867 to 1870, if the story of these could be properly told,
would be
found by far the most interesting of Mme. Blavatsky's eventful life,
but it is
impossible for me to do more at present than indicate that they were
associated
with great progress in the expansion of her occult knowledge, and
passed in the
East. The two or three years intervening between her residence at
Tiflis and
the period I have named were spent indeed in European travel, and
there would
be no necessity for holding back any information concerning these —
the latest of
her relatively aimless wanderings — of which I might have gained
possession,
but no watchful relatives were with her to record what passed, and
her own
recollections give us none but bare outlines of her adventures.
In 1870 she
came back from the East by a steamer via the then newly-opened Suez
Canal, and
after spending a short time in Piraeus took passage for Spezzia on
board a Greek
vessel, which met with a terrible catastrophe, and was blown up by
an explosion
of gunpowder and fireworks forming part of the cargo. Mme.
Blavatsky was
one of a very small number of passengers whose lives were saved.
The castaways
were rescued with no more than the clothes they wore when picked
out of the
[122] water, and were momentarily provided for by the Greek
Government,
who forwarded them to various destinations. Mme. Blavatsky went to
Alexandria
and to Cairo, where, amid much temporary inconvenience, she waited
till supplies
of money reached her from Russia. I have headed this chapter
“From
Apprenticeship to Dutyâ€, because that is the great transition marked
by the date
of Mme. Blavatsky's return to Europe in 1870. Till that period her
life had
altogether been spent in the passionate search for occult knowledge, on
which her
inborn instincts impelled her from her earliest youth. This had now
come upon her
in ample measure. The natural-born faculties of mediumship which
had
surrounded her earlier years with a coruscation of wonders had given place
now to
attributes for which Western students of psychic mysteries at that date
had no name.
The time had not come for even the partial revelations concerning
the great
system of occult initiation as practised in the East, which has been
embodied in
books published within the last few years. Mme. Blavatsky already
knew that she
had a task before her — the task of introducing some knowledge
concerning
these mysteries to the world, — but she was sorely puzzled to decide
how she
should begin it. She had to do the best she could in making the world
acquainted
with the idea that the latent potentialities in human nature — in
connection
with which psychic phenomena of various kinds were already attracting
the attention
of large classes in both hemispheres — were of a kind which,
properly
directed, would lead to the infinite spiritual exaltation of their
possessors,
while wrongly directed they were capable of leading downward towards
disastrous
results of almost commensurate extent. She alone, at the period I
refer to,
appreciated the magnitude of her mission, and if she [123] did
not
adequately appreciate the difficulties in her way, she had at all events no
companion to
share her sense of the fact that these difficulties were very
great.
Probably she
would be among those most willing to recognise, looking back now
upon the
steps she took in the beginning, that she went to work the wrong way,
but very few
people who have had a long and arduous battle in life to fight —
especially
when that fight has been chiefly waged against such moral antagonists
as bigotry
and ignorance — would be in a position at the close of their efforts
to regard
their earliest measures with satisfied complacency.
The only
lever which, as the matter presented itself in the beginning to Mme.
Blavatsky's
mind, seemed available for her to work with, was the widespread and
growing
belief of large numbers of civilized people in the phenomena and
somewhat too
hastily formed theories of spiritualism. She set to work in Egypt —
finding
herself there for the moment — to found a society which should have the
investigation
of spiritualistic phenomena for its purpose, and which she
designed to
lead through paths of higher knowledge in the end. Some, among the
many
misrepresentations which have made her life one long struggle with calumny
from this
time onward, arose from this innocently intended measure. Because she
set on foot
her quasi-spiritualistic society, she has been regarded as having
been
committed at that date to an acceptance of the theory of psychic phenomena
which
spiritualists hold. It will have been seen, however, from the quotations I
have given
from her sister's narrative that, even on her first return from the
East in 1858,
she was emphatic in repudiating this view.
One of the
persons who sought Mme. Blavatsky's acquaintance in connection with
this abortive
society [124] was the subsequently notorious Mme. Coulomb,
attached at
that time to the personnel of a small hotel at Cairo, who afterwards
finding her
way with her husband, in a state of painful destitution, to India,
fastened
herself but too securely on Mme. Blavatsky's hospitality at Bombay —
only to repay
this in the end by rendering herself the tool of an infamous
attack made
upon the Theosophical Society in the person of its Founder by a
missionary
magazine at Madras. Of this I shall have occasion to speak again
later on.The
narrative of the period beginning in 1871, on which I am now
entering, has
been prepared, with a good deal of assistance from Mme. Blavatsky
herself, from
writings by relatives and intimate friends of her later years. It
would be
tedious to the reader if this were divided into separate fragments of
testimony,
and I shall therefore prefer — except in some special cases later on
— to weld
these narratives into one, and the use of the plural pronoun “weâ€
will
hereafter sufficiently identify passages which have a composite authorship.
In 1871 Mme.
Blavatsky wrote from Cairo to tell her friends that she had just
returned from
India, and had been wrecked somewhere en passant (near Spezzia).
She had to
wait in Egypt for some time before she returned home, meanwhile she
determined to
establish a Société Spirite for the investigation of mediums
and
phenomena according
to Allen Kardec's theories and philosophy, since there was
no other way
to give people a chance to see for themselves how mistaken they
were. She
would first give free play to an already established and accepted
teaching and
then, when the public would see that nothing was coming out of it,
she would
offer her own explanations. To accomplish this object, she said, she
was ready to
go to any amount of trouble — [125] even to allowing herself
to be
regarded for a time as a helpless medium. “They know no better, and it
does me no
harm — for I will very soon show them the difference between a
passive
medium and an active doerâ€. she explains.
A few weeks
later a new letter was received. In this one she showed herself full
of disgust
for the enterprise, which had proved a perfect failure. She had
written, it
seems, to England and France for a medium, but without success. En
désespoir
de cause, she had surrounded herself with amateur mediums — French
female
spiritists, mostly beggarly tramps, when not adventuresses in the rear of
M. de
Lesseps' army of engineers and workmen on the canal of Suez.
“They steal
the Society's moneyâ€, she wrote, “ they drink like sponges,
and I now
caught them cheating most shamefully our members, who come to
investigate
the phenomena, by bogus manifestations. I had very disagreeable
scenes with
several persons who held me alone responsible for all this. So I
ordered them
out. . . . The Société Spirite has not lasted a fortnight —
it is a
heap of
ruins, majestic, but as suggestive as those of the Pharaoh's tombs. ...
To wind up
the comedy with a drama, I got nearly shot by a madman — a Greek, who
had been
present at the only two public séances we held, and got possessed I
suppose by some
vile spook.†[This literal translation of a letter written by
Mme Blavatsky
to her aunt fourteen years back shows that she never changed her
way of
viewing communication with “spirits” for physical phenomena, as she was
accused of
doing when in America.]
She broke off
all connection with the “mediumsâ€, shut up her Société,
and
went to live
in Boulak near the Museum. Then it seems, she came again in contact
with her old
friend the Copt of mysterious fame, of whom [126] mention has
been made in
connection with her earliest visit to Egypt, at the outset of her
travels. For
several weeks he was her only visitor. He had a strange reputation
in Egypt, and
the masses regarded him as a magician. One gentleman, who knew him
at this time,
declared that he had outlined and predicted for him for
twenty-five
years to come nearly all his (the narrator's) daily life, even to
the day of
his death. The Egyptian high officials pretending to laugh at him
behind his
back, dreaded and visited him secretly. Ismail Pasha, the Khedive,
had consulted
him more than once, and later on would not consent to follow his
advice to
resign. These visits of an old man, who was reputed hardly ever to
stir from his
house (situated at about ten miles from town), to a foreigner were
much
commented upon. New slanders and scandals were set on foot. The sceptics
who had,
moved by idle curiosity, visited the Société and witnessed
the whole
failure, made
capital of the thing. Ridiculing the idea of phenomena, they had
as a natural
result declared such claims to be fraud and charlatanry all round.
Conveniently
inverting the facts of the case, they even went the length of
maintaining
that instead of paying the mediums and the expenses of the Society,
it was Mme.
Blavatsky who had herself been paid, and had attempted to palm off
juggler
tricks as genuine phenomena. The groundless inventions and rumors thus
set on foot
by her enemies, mostly the discharged “French-women mediumsâ€,
did not
prevent Mme. Blavatsky from pursuing her studies, and proving to every
honest
investigator that her extraordinary powers of clairvoyance and
clairaudience
were facts, and independent of mere physical manifestations, over
which she
possessed an undeniable control. Also that her power, by simply
looking at
them, of setting objects in motion and vibration [127] without
any direct
contact with them, and sometimes at a great distance, instead of
deserting her
or even diminishing, had increased with years. A Russian
gentleman, an
acquaintance of Mme. B., who happened to visit Egypt at that time,
sent his
friends the most enthusiastic letters about Mme. Blavatsky. Thus he
wrote to a
brother-officer in the same regiment a letter now in the possession
of her
relatives, and from which we translate: “She is a marvel, an
unfathomable
mystery. That which she produces is simply phenomenal; and without
believing any
more in spirits than I ever did, I am ready to believe in
witchcraft.
If it is after all but jugglery, then we have in Mme. Blavatsky a
woman who
beats all the Boscos and Robert Houdin's of the century by her
address. . .
. Once I showed her a closed medallion containing the portrait of
one person
and the hair of another, an object which I had had in my possession
but a few
months, which was made at Moscow, and of which very few know, and she
told me
without touching it, ' Oh ! it is your godmother's portrait and your
cousin's
hair. Both are dead,' and she proceeded forthwith to describe them, as
though she
had both before her eyes. Now, godmother, as you know, who left my
eldest
daughter her fortune, is dead fifteen years ago. How could she know ! â€
etc..
In an
illustrated paper of the time there is a story told of Mme. Blavatsky by
another
gentleman. He met her at a table d'hôte with some friends in a hotel
of
Alexandria.
Refusing to go with these to the theatre after dinner, they remained
alone,
sitting on a sofa and talking. Before the sofa there stood a little
tea-tray, on which
the waiter had placed for Mr N----- a bottle of liqueur, some
wine, a
wine-glass, and a tumbler. As he was carrying the glass with its
contents to
his mouth, without any visible cause, it broke in his hand into many
pieces. She
[128] laughed, appearing overjoyed, and made the remark that
she hated
liqueurs and wine and could hardly tolerate those who used them too
freely. The
story goes on ...
“ ' You do
not mean to infer that it is you who broke my wine-glass . . . ? It
is simply an
accident. . . . The glass is very thin ; it was perhaps cracked,
and I
squeezed it too strongly . . .!' I lied purposely, for I had just made the
mental remark
that it seemed very strange and incomprehensible, the glass being
very thick
and strong, just as a verre à liqueur would be.â€
But I wanted
to draw her out.“
She looked at
me very seriously, and her eyes flashed. ' What will you bet,' she
asked, ' that
I do not do it again ?'
â€' Well, we
will try on the spot. If you do, I will be the first to proclaim
you a true
magician. If not, we will have a good laugh at you or your spirits
to-morrow at
the Consulate. . . .' And saying so, I half-filled the tumbler with
wine and
prepared to drink it. But no sooner had the glass touched my lips than
I felt it
shattered between my fingers, and my hand bled, wounded by a broken
piece in my
instinctive act at grasping the tumbler together when I felt myself
losing hold
of it.“
"Entre
les lèvres et la coupe, il y a quelquefois une grande distance,'' she
observed
sententiously, and left the room, laughing in my face most
outrageouslyâ€.
“ During
the latter yearsâ€, Mme. de Jelihowsky states, “many were the
changes that
had taken place in our family: our grandfather and our aunt's
husband, who
had both occupied very high official positions in Tiflis, had died,
and the whole
family had left the Caucasus to settle permanently in Odessa. H.
P. Blavatsky
had not visited the country for years, and there remained in Tiflis
but myself
with my family and a number of old servants, formerly serfs of the
family, who,
once liberated, could not be kept without wages in the house they
had been born
in, and were gradually being sent away. These people, some of whom
owing to old
age were unable to work for their living, came constantly to me
[129] for
help. Unable to pension so many, I did what I could for them ;
among other
things I had obtained a permanent home at the City Refuge House for
two old men,
late servants of the family: a cook called Maxim and his brother
Piotre — once
upon a time a very decent footman, but at the time of the event I
refer to an
incorrigible drunkard, who had lost his arm in consequence.â€
That summer
we had gone to reside during the hot months of the year at Manglis —
the
headquarters of the regiment of Erivan — some thirty miles from town, and
Mme.
Blavatsky was in Egypt. I had just received the news that my sister had
returned from
India, and was going to remain for some time at Cairo. We
corresponded
very rarely, at long intervals, and our letters were generally
short. But
after a prolonged silence I received from H. P. B. a very long and
interesting
letter.“
A portion of
it consisted of fly-sheets torn out from a note-book, and these
were all
covered with pencil-writing. The strange events they recorded had been
all put down
on the spot — some under the shadow of the great Pyramid of Cheops,
and some of
them inside Pharaoh's Chamber. It appears that Mme. B. had gone
there several
times, once with a large company, some of whom were
spiritualists.[Some
most wonderful phenomena were described by some of her
companions as
having taken place in broad daylight in the desert when they were
sitting under
a rock; whilst other notes in Mme Blavatsky’s writing recorded the
strange sight
she saw in the Cimmerian darkness of the King’s Chamber, when she
has passed a
night alone comfortable settled inside a sarcophagus.]â€
'Let me know,
Vera', she wrote, 'whether it is true that the old Pietro is dead
? He must
have died last night or at some time yesterday' (the date on the stamp
of the
envelope showed that it had left Egypt ten days previous to the day on
which it was
received). 'Just fancy what happened ! A friend of mine, a young
English [130]
lady, and a medium, stood writing mechanically on bits of
paper,
leaning upon an old Egyptian tomb. The pencil had begun tracing perfect
gibberish —
in characters that had never existed here, as a philologist told us
— when
suddenly, and as I was looking from behind her back, they changed into
what I
thought were Russian letters. My attention having been called elsewhere,
I had just
left her, when I heard people saying that what she had written was
now evidently
in some existing characters, but that neither she nor anyone else
could read
them. I came back just in time to prevent her from destroying that
slip of paper
as she had done with the rest, and was rewarded. Possessing myself
of the
rejected slip, fancy my astonishment on finding it contained in Russian
an evident
apostrophe to myself!â€
'
“Barishnya (little or' young miss '), dear baryshnya! †said the writer,
“help, oh
help me, miserable sinner! ... I suffer: drink, drink, give me a
drink! . . .
I suffer, I suffer!†From this term baryshnya — a title our old
servants
will, I see, use with us two even after our hair will have grown white
with age — I
understood immediately that the appeal came from one of our old
servants, and
took therefore the matter in hand by arming myself with a pencil
to record
what I could myself see. I found the name Piotre Koutcherof echoed in
my mind quite
distinctly, and I saw before me an indistinguishable mass of grey
smoke — a
formless pillar — and thought I heard it repeat the same words.
Furthermore,
I saw that he had died in Dr Gorolevitch's hospital attached to the
City Refuge,
the Tiflis workhouse where you had placed them both. Moreover, as I
made out, it
is you who placed him there in company with his brother, our old
Maxim, who
had died a few days before him. You had never written about poor
Maxim's
death. Do tell me whether it is so or not. . . .'
Further on
followed her description of the whole vision as she had it, later on,
in the
evening when alone, and the authentic words pronounced by ' Piotre's
spook' as she
called it. The ' spirit' (?) was bitterly complaining of thirst
and was
becoming quite desperate. It was punishment, it said — and the spook
seemed to
know it [131] well, — for his drunkenness during the lifetime of
that
personality ! . . . 'An agony of thirst that nothing could quench — an ever
living fire,'
as she explained it.â€
Mme.
Blavatsky's letter ended with a postscript, in which she notified her
sister that
her doubts had been all settled. She saw the astral spooks of both
the brothers
— one harmless and passive, the other active and dangerous. [How
dangerous is
the latter kind was proved on the spot. Miss O - , the medium, a
young lady of
hardly twenty, governess in a rich family of bankers, an extremely
modest and
gentle girl, had hardly written the Russian words addressed to Mme
Blavatsky,
when she was seized with a trembling, and asked to drink. When water
was brought
she threw it away, and went on asking for a drink. Wine was offered
her - she
greedily drank it, and began drinking one glass after another until,
to the horror
of all, she fell into convulsions, and cried for “wine-a drink!”
till she
fainted away, and was carried home in a carriage. She had an illness
after this
that lasted several weeks. - [H.P.B.]Upon the receipt of this letter,
her sister
was struck with surprise. Ignorant herself of the death of the
parties
mentioned, she telegraphed immediately to town, and the answer received
from Dr
Gorolevitch corroborated the news announced by Mme. Blavatsky in every
particular.
Piotre had died on the very same day and date as given in H. P.
Blavatsky's
letter, and his brother two days earlier.
Disgusted
with the failure of her spiritist society and the gossip it provoked,
Mme.
Blavatsky soon went home via Palestine, and lingered for some months
longer,
making a voyage to Palmyra and other ruins, whither she went with
Russian
friends. Accounts of some of the incidents of her journey found their
way into the
French and even American papers. At the end of 1872 she returned in
her usual way
without warning, and surprised her family at Odessa.[132]
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CHAPTER 8
RESIDENCE IN
AMERICA
[132] IN the
beginning of 1873 Mme. Blavatsky left Russia and went in the
first
instance to Paris. By this time the psychic relationship between herself
and her
occult teachers in the East was already established on that intimate
footing which
has rendered her whole subsequent life subject to its practical
direction. It
is unnecessary to inquire why she adopted this or that course; we
shall rarely
discover commonplace motives for her action, and frequently she
herself would
be no better able to say “why” she might be at any given moment
arranging to
go here or there than the merest stranger present. The immediate
motive of her
proceedings would be the direction she would receive through
occult
channels of perception, and for herself, rebellious and uncontrollable
though she
had been in earlier life, “an order” from “her master” was now enough
to send her
forward on the most uninviting errand, in patient confidence that
good results
would ensue, and that whatever might be thus ordered, would
assuredly
prove for the best.
The position
is so unlike any which the experience of ordinary mundane life
supplies that
I may usefully endeavor to explain the relationship which exists
in connection
with, and arising out of, occult initiation in the East between a
pupil, or
chela, of the esoteric or [133] occult doctrine and his teacher,
master, or
guru. I have known many chelas within the last few years, and I can
speak on the
subject from information that is not exclusively derived even from
that source.
The primary
motive which governs people who become chelas is the desire to
achieve moral
and spiritual exaltation that may lead directly to a higher state
of being than
can be hoped for by the unassisted operation of the normal law of
nature.
Referring back to the esoteric view of the human soul's progress, it
will be seen
that people may often be impelled, as Mme. Blavatsky was, for
instance,
from childhood, by an inborn craving for occult instruction and
psychic
development. Such people seek initiation under the guidance, as it were,
of a
commanding instinct, which is unlike the intellectually formed purpose to
accomplish a
spiritual achievement that I have assigned above to chelas as their
primary
motive. But in truth the motive would be regarded by occultists as the
same at
different stages of development. For the normal law of Nature is that a
soul having
accomplished a certain amount of progress — along the path of
spiritual
evolution — in one physical life (one incarnation), will be reborn
without
losing the attributes thus acquired. All these constitute what are
loosely
spoken of as inborn tendencies, natural tastes, inclinations, and so
forth. And
thus, whether a chela is then, for the first time, seeking initiation
or watched
over by a guru from his last birth, the primary motive of his effort
is the same.
And this
being his own spiritual advancement, it may be, that if circumstances
do not
require him to play an active part in any work in the world, his duty
will, to a
large extent, be concentrated on his own interior life. Such a man's
chief
obligation towards the public at large, therefore, will be to conceal the
fact that he
is a chela, [134] for he has not yet, by the hypothesis,
attained the
right to choose who shall and who shall not be introduced to the
“mysteries”.
He merely has to keep the secrets entrusted to him as such. On the
other hand,
the exigencies of his service may require him to perform tasks in
the world
which involve the partial explanation of his relationship with his
masters, and
then a very much more embarrassing career lies before him. For such
a chela —
however perfect his occult communications may be, through the channel
of his own
psychic faculties, between himself and his masters — is never allowed
to regard
himself for an instant as a blind automaton in their hands. He is, on
the contrary,
a responsible agent who is left to perform his task by the light
of his own
sagacity, and he will never receive “orders” which seriously conflict
with that principle.
These will be only of a general character, or, where they
refer to
details, will be of a kind that do not, in occult phrase, interfere
with Karma;
that is to say, that do not supersede the agent's moral
responsibility.
Finally, it
should be understood in regard to “orders” among initiates in
occultism,
that the order of an occult guru to his chela differs in a very
important
respect from the order of an officer to his soldier. It is a direction
that in the
nature of things would never be enforced, for the disregard of which
there could
be no positive or prescribed penalty, and which is only imposed upon
the chela by
the consideration that if he gets an order and does not obey it, he
is unlikely
to get any more. It is to be regarded as an order because of the
ardor of
obedience on the side of the chela, whose aspirations, by the
hypothesis,
are wholly centered on the masters. The service thus rendered is
especially of
the kind which has been described as perfect freedom. [135]
All this must
be borne in mind by any reader who would understand Mme. Blavatsky
and the
foundation of the Theosophical Society, and must be rigorously applied
to the
narrative of her later life. A constant perplexity arises, for people who
are slightly
acquainted with the circumstances of her career, from the
indiscretions
in connection with the management of the Theosophical Society
which she has
frequently fallen into. How can it be that the Mahatmas — her
occult
teachers and masters, whose insight is represented as being so great,
whose
interest in the theosophical movement is said to be so keen, whose wisdom
is vaunted so
enthusiastically by their adherents — permit their agent Mme.
Blavatsky,
with whom it is alleged they are in constant communication, to make
mistakes
which most people in her place would have avoided, to trust persons
almost
obviously unworthy of her confidence, to associate herself with
proceedings
that tend to lower the dignity of her enterprise, to lose temper and
time with
assailants who might be calmly ignored, and to spend her psychic
energy in the
wrong places, with the wrong people, and at the wrong moments. The
solution of
the puzzle is to be found entirely in the higher spiritual aspects
of the
undertaking. The Theosophical Society is by a great way not the only
instrument
through which the Mahatmas are working in the world to foster the
growth of
spirituality among mankind, but it is the one enterprise that has been
confided, in
a large measure, to Mme. Blavatsky. If she were to fail with it,
the Mahatma
energy concerned would be spent not in trying to bolster up her
failure, but
in some quite different direction. If she succeeds with it, the
principles of
moral responsibility are best vindicated by leaving her to
struggle
through with her work in her own way. A general on a campaign sending
[136] an
officer to perform a specific duty is mainly concerned with the
result to be
gained. If he thinks he can promote this by interfering with fresh
orders, he does
so. But by the hypothesis, a Mahatma interfering with his
officer is
throwing into confusion the operation of the laws of Nature which
have to do
with the causes — efficient on a plane above this of physical
incarnation —
that are generated by what we call moral responsibility. Of course
it is open to
people who know nothing of Eastern occultism, nor of superior
planes in
Nature and so forth, to put all this aside and judge Mme. Blavatsky's
action by
commonplace prosaic standards; but it is not reasonable for the
considerable
number of people who in various ways are quite ready to profess
belief in the
Mahatmas, and in the reality of that occult world in which Mme.
Blavatsky is
regarded by most theosophists as having been initiated, to say, in
spite of
these beliefs, that the action of the Mahatmas in leaving Mme.
Blavatsky to
make mistakes and trust the wrong people and so forth is
unintelligible.
It is not unintelligible in principle, even though, as I have
indicated a
page or two back, Mme. Blavatsky will sometimes receive orders the
immediate
motive of which she does not understand, but obeys none the less. This
condition of
things does not violate the rule about not converting a responsible
chela into a
blind automaton. Such interferences would never be found to take
place under
conditions which would discharge the agent of moral responsibility
for the
manner in which he might resume the guidance of his enterprise from the
point to
which obedience to the order received might have carried on or diverted
him.
No special
interest attaches to Mme. Blavatsky's brief residence in Paris in
1873, where
she stayed with a cousin of hers, Nicolas Hahn, Rue de I'Université,
for [137] two
months. She was directed to visit the United States, and make
that place
for a time the scene of her operations.
She arrived
at New York on 7th July 1873, and resided in that city — with the
exception of
a few weeks and months when she had to visit other cities and
places — for
over six years, after which time she got her naturalization papers.
Although, as
will have been seen from Mme. de Jelihowsky's testimony, she was
emphatic,
even in 1858, in claiming for most of the phenomena that took place in
her presence
a very different origin from that usually assigned to such
phenomena by
spiritualists, the experience of spiritualism and mediumship that
she acquired
in America greatly enlarged her views on this subject. In 1875 she
wrote home: —
“The more I
see of mediums — for the United States are a true nursery, the most
prolific
hot-bed for mediums and sensitives of all kinds, genuine and artificial
— the more I
see the danger humanity is surrounded with. Poets speak of the thin
partition
between this world and the other. They are blind: there is no
partition at
all except the difference of states in which the living and the
dead exist,
and the grossness of the physical senses of the majority of mankind.
Yet, these
senses are our salvation. They were given to us by a wise and
sagacious
mother and nurse — Nature; for, otherwise, individuality and even
personality
would have become impossible: the dead would be ever merging into
the living,
and the latter assimilating the former. Were there around us but one
variety of
'spirits' — as well call the dregs of wine, spirits — the reliquae of
those mortals
who are dead and gone, one could reconcile oneself with it. We
cannot avoid,
in some way or other, assimilating our dead, and little by little,
and
unconsciously to ourselves, we become they — even physically, especially in
the unwise
West, where cremation is unknown. We breathe and devour the dead —
men and
animals — with every [138] breath we draw in, as every human breath
that goes out
makes up the bodies and feeds the formless creatures in the air
that will be
men some day. So much for the physical process; for the mental and
the
intellectual, and also the spiritual, it is just the same; we interchange
gradually our
brain-molecules, our intellectual and even spiritual auras, hence
— our
thoughts, desires, and aspirations, with those who preceded us. This
process is
common to humanity in general. It is a natural one, and follows the
economy and
laws of nature, insomuch that one's son may become gradually his own
grandfather,
and his aunt to boot, imbibing their combined atoms, and thus
partially
accounting for the possible resemblance, or atavism. But there is
another law,
an exceptional one, and which manifests itself among mankind
sporadically
and periodically: the law of forced post-mortem assimilation,
during the
prevalence of which epidemic the dead invade the domain of the living
from their
respective spheres — though, fortunately, only within the limits of
the regions
they lived in, and in which they are buried. In such cases, the
duration and
intensity of the epidemic depends upon the welcome they receive,
upon whether
they find the doors opening widely to receive them or not, and
whether the
necromantic plague is increased by magnetic attraction, the desire
of the
mediums, sensitives, and the curious themselves; or whether, again, the
danger being
signaled, the epidemic is wisely repressed.
“Such a
periodical visitation is now occurring in America. It began with
innocent
children — the little Misses Fox — playing unconsciously with this
terrible
weapon. And, welcomed and passionately invited to ' come in,' the whole
of the dead
community seemed to have rushed in, and got a more or less strong
hold of the
living. I went on purpose to a family of strong mediums — the Eddys
— and watched
for over a fortnight, making experiments, which, of course, I kept
to myself. .
. . You remember, Vera, how I made experiments for you at
Rougodevo,
how often I saw the ghosts of those who had been living in the house,
and described
them to you, for you could never see them. . . . Well, it was the
[139] same
daily and nightly in Vermont. I saw and watched these soulless
creatures,
the shadows of their terrestrial bodies, from which in most cases
soul and
spirit had fled long ago, but which throve and preserved their
semi-material
shadows at the expense of the hundreds of visitors that came and
went, as well
as of the mediums. And I remarked, under the advice and guidance
of my Master,
that (I) those apparitions which were genuine were produced by the
' ghosts' of
those who had lived and died within a certain area of those
mountains;
(2) those who had died far away were less entire, a mixture of the
real shadow
and of that which lingered in the personal aura of the visitor for
whom it
purported to come; and (3) the purely fictitious ones, or as I call
them, the
reflections of the genuine ghosts or shadows of the deceased
personality.
To explain myself more clearly, it was not the spooks that
assimilated
the medium, but the medium, W. Eddy, who assimilated unconsciously
to himself
the pictures of the dead relatives and friends from the aura of the
sitters. . .
.
“It was
ghastly to watch the process! It made me often sick and giddy; but I had
to look at
it, and the most I could do was to hold the disgusting creatures at
arm's length.
But it was a sight to see the welcome given to these umbroe by the
spiritualists!
They wept and rejoiced around the medium, clothed in these empty
materialized
shadows; rejoiced and wept again, sometimes broken down with an
emotion, a
sincere joy and happiness that made my heart bleed for them. 'If they
could but see
what I see', I often wished. If they only knew that these
simulacra of
men and women are made up wholly of the terrestrial passions,
vices, and
worldly thoughts, of the residuum of the personality that was; for
these are
only such dregs that could not follow the liberated soul and spirit,
and are left
for a second death in the terrestrial atmosphere, that can be seen
by the
average medium and the public. At times I used to see one of such
phantoms,
quitting the medium's astral body, pouncing upon one of the sitters,
expanding so
as to envelop him or her entirely, and then slowly disappearing
within the
living body as though sucked in by its every pore.[140]
Under the
influence of such ideas and thoughts, Mme. Blavatsky came out finally
quite openly
with her protest against being called a medium. She stoutly
rejected the
application of "Spiritist" that was being forced upon her by her
foreign
correspondents. Thus in 1877 she says in one of her letters:
"What
kind of Spiritist can you see in, or make of me, pray? I I have worked to
join the
Theosohical Society, in alliance offensive and defensive with the Arya
Samaj of
India (of which we are now forming a section within the parent
Theosophical
Society), it is because in India all the Brahmins, whether orthodox
or otherwise,
are terribly against the bhoots, [The simulacra or ghost of a
deceased
person, - an "Elementary", or spook. ] the mediums, or any
necromantic
evocations or
dealings with the dead in any way or shape. That we have
established
our Society in order to combat, under the banner of Truth and
Science,
every kind of superstitious and preconceived hobbies. That we mean to
fight the
prejudices of the Sceptics, as well as the abuse of power of the false
prophets,
ancient or modern, to put down the high priests, the Calchases, with
their false
Jupiterean thunders, and to show certain fallacies of the
Spiritists.
If we are anything, we are Spiritualists, only not on the modern
American
fashion, but on that of ancient Alexandria, with its Theodadiktoi,
Hypatias, and
Porphyries...."
[For the new
edition of this book I must here interpolate a note warning the
reader
against too submissive an acceptance of the views set forth in the letter
quoted above.
I do not think Mme. Blavatsky would have endorsed them at a later
stage of her
occult education. However frequently it may happen that
communication
from the astral world may be confused and corrupted by the
unconscious
influence of imperfectly developed mediums, it does not by any means
follow that
in all cases the “spirits” of the seance room are “empty
materialized
shadows” or “simulacra of men and women made up of terrestrial
passions and
vices, etc..“It was not till long after the date of the letter
quoted that
Mme. Blavatsky shared with myself in India the fuller teaching
concerning
life on the astral and higher planes of consciousness which put an
intelligible
face on the variegated and often bewildering experiences of
spiritualism.
That great movement was as definitely designed by higher wisdom
for the illumination
of civilized mankind, as the far greater movement that has
since put us
in touch with the mysteries of the higher occultism — that it was
simply
designed to break down the materialistic drift of thinking that was
prevalent in
the middle of the last century. It; was designed simply to show us
that there
was another life for human beings after the death of the physical!
body. Those
who had passed on, and were living on the astral plane, were
furnished
with a means of making their continued existence known to friends
still in
incarnation. Of course these opportunities were available for great
numbers of
astral entities surviving from the ignoble varieties of mankind, and
many of these
may have flocked in during Mme. Blavatsky's investigations of
current
spiritualism, confirming impressions she had acquired concerning the
characteristics
of the astral plane life; [141] but multitudes of
spiritualists
knew perfectly well that they often had touch with departed
friends still
maintaining the personalities of the earth life, and in this way
it
unfortunately happened that Mme. Blavatsky's sweeping condemnation of all
spiritualism
as delusive and unwholesome alienated large numbers of people who
ought to have
been the most ardent sympathizers with the Theosophical movement.
All later
students of occultism know now that the astral plane plays a much more
important
part in the future life of most people “passing on” than the
misleading
old “shell” theory led us to suppose in the beginning.]
The
Theosophical Society was founded in October 1875 at New York, with Colonel
Olcott as
life president — Mme. Blavatsky preferring to invest herself with the
relatively
insignificant title of corresponding secretary.
Colonel
Olcott's acquaintance with Mme. Blavatsky was formed at a farmhouse in
Vermont — the
house of two brothers, spiritualist mediums named Eddy, famous in
the annals of
American spiritualism — in October 1874. Referring to her in his
book, called
People from the other World , published in 1875, he says: —
“This lady
has led a very eventful life. . . .
The
adventures she has encountered, the strange people she has seen, the perils
by sea and
land she has passed through would make one of the most romantic
stories ever
told by a biographer. In the whole course of my experience I never
met so
interesting and, if I may say it without offence, eccentric a character.”
In the year
that elapsed between his first introduction to Mme. Blavatsky and
the inauguration
of their joint enterprise, his intercourse with her was
intimate and
his personal experiences remarkable. These need not be reviewed
here in
detail, except so far as some of them [142] will throw light upon
the
circumstances of Mme. Blavatsky's life at this period, and for the moment it
is enough to
say that they induced him to throw up his professional career as a
“lawyer” (the
distinctions between the different branches of the profession in
England, it
will be remembered, do not hold good in America) and devote his life
to the
pursuit of occult development as a “chela” of the same master to whom
Mme.
Blavatsky's allegiance is owing, and to the service of the theosophical
movement.
As Colonel
Olcott has shared some of the obloquy directed against Mme. Blavatsky
in recent
years, it may be worth while to add a paragraph concerning him written
by Mr A. O.
Hume, C.B., late Secretary to the Government of India in the
Agricultural
Department. This passage occurs in a letter by Mr Hume addressed to
an English
paper, and is quoted in the preface to The Occult World: —
As regards
Colonel Olcott's title, the printed papers which I send by this same
mail will
prove to you that this gentleman is an officer of the American army,
who rendered
good service during the war (as will be seen from the letter of the
Judge
Advocate-General, the Secretary of the Navy, and the Assistant Secretaries
of War and of
the Treasury), and who was sufficiently well known and esteemed in
his own
country to induce the President of the United States to furnish him with
an autograph
letter of introduction and recommendation to all Ministers and
Consuls of
the United States on the occasion of his leaving America for the East
at the close
of 1878.”
In
introducing some notes put together for the service of the present memoir,
Colonel
Olcott writes :—
“A strange
concatenation of events brought us together, and united our lives for
this work,
under the superior [143] direction of a group of Masters,
especially of
One, whose wise teaching, noble example, benevolent patience, and
paternal
solicitude have made us regard him with the reverence and love that a
true Father
inspires in his children. I am indebted to H. P. Blavatsky for
making me
know of the existence of these Masters and their Esoteric Philosophy;
and later,
for acting as my mediator before I had come into direct personal
intercourse
with them.”
The earliest
records of the Theosophical Society reveal the motives for its
formation
which the fuller information since made public concerning the
character of
Mme. Blavatsky's mission show to have been present in her mind from
the first,
though the means by which she should work them out lay before her
then in a
very nebulous and hazy condition. She seems to have been embarrassed
by the
difficulty of making her position intelligible to people who knew nothing
of the
existence even, still less of the nature and powers, of those proficients
in occult
science since so widely talked about — the Adepts and Mahatmas. Her
policy seems
to have been to imitate, by means of the occult powers which she
either
possessed herself or could borrow from her masters from time to time, the
phenomena of
spiritualism which then seemed to absorb the attention of all
persons in
America having any natural leanings towards mysticism, trusting to
the sagacity
of observers to show them that the circumstances with which she
would
surround such phenomena were quite unlike those to which they were used.
In this way
she seems to have aimed at cutting the ground from under the feet of
people
inclined to theorize too hastily on the basis of spiritualistic
observation —
at persuading them that the evidence on which they relied for the
maintenance
of their opinions did not afford adequate justification for these,
and at
leading them into the path [144] of a more legitimate philosophical
or
theosophical research. The policy was undeniably a bad one, and was carried
out with
little discretion and with a waste of psychic energy which cannot but
be deplored
in the retrospect by occult students who realize the consequences of
such waste.
However, I merely wish to be sufficiently critical of Mme.
Blavatsky's
proceedings, as this narrative advances, to elucidate the operations
in which we
find her engaged, and I refrain from the consideration here of the
policies that
might have been more triumphant.
A vast array
of unattainable purposes was set before themselves by the little
group of
friends who organized the new society in 1875. These were enumerated in
one of the
earlier codes of rules as follows:—
(a) To keep
alive in man his spiritual intuitions.
(b) To oppose
and counteract — after due investigation and proof of its
irrational
nature — bigotry in every form, whether as an intolerant religious
sectarianism
or belief in miracles or anything supernatural.
(c) To
promote a feeling of brotherhood among nations, and assist in the
international
exchange of useful arts and products, by advice, information, and
co-operation
with all worthy individuals and associations; provided, however,
that no
benefit or percentage shall be taken by the Society for its corporate
services.
(d) To seek
to obtain knowledge of all the laws of Nature, and aid in diffusing
it; and
especially to encourage the study of those laws least understood by
modern
people, and so termed the occult sciences. Popular superstition and
folk-lore,
however fantastical when sifted, may lead to the discovery of
long-lost but
important secrets of Nature. The Society, therefore, aims to
pursue this
line of inquiry in the hope to widen the field of scientific and
philosophical
observation.
(e) To gather
for the Society's library and put into written forms correct
information
upon the various ancient philosophic traditions and legends, and, as
the [145]
council shall decide it permissible, disseminate the same in such
practicable
ways as the translation and publication of original works of value,
and extracts
from and commentaries upon the same, or the oral instruction of
persons
learned in their respective departments.
(f) To
promote in every practicable way in countries where needed the spread of
non-sectarian
education.
(g) Finally
and chiefly, to encourage and assist individual fellows in
self-improvement,
intellectual, moral, and spiritual. But no fellow shall put to
his selfish
use any knowledge communicated to him by any member of the First
Section:
violation of this rule being punished by expulsion. And before any such
knowledge can
be imparted, the person shall bind himself by a solemn oath not to
use it to
selfish purposes, nor to reveal it except with the permission of the
teacher.
One can
readily discern in this formidable array of objects the inarticulate
purpose which
Mme. Blavatsky had really in view — the communication to the world
at large of
some ideas concerning the Esoteric Doctrine or great “Wisdom
Religion” of
the East, shining obscurely through the too ambitious programme of
her new
disciples, which might be summed up as contemplating the reformation and
guidance of
all nations generally — a programme which could hardly have been
floated in
sober earnest elsewhere than in America, where the mere magnitude of
undertakings
seems neither to daunt the courage of their promoters nor touch
their sense
of the ludicrous.
This volume
is indebted to Mr W. Q. Judge, one of the friends Mme. Blavatsky
made in the early
part of her residence in America, for an account of the
miscellaneous
marvels of which he was a witness during the period with which we
are now
dealing. He writes: —
“My first
acquaintance with H. P. Blavatsky began in the winter of the year
1874. She was
then living in [146] apartments in Irving Place, New York
City, United
States. She had several rooms en suite. The front rooms looked out
on Irving
Place, and the back upon the garden. My first visit was made in the
evening, and
I saw her there among a large number of persons who were always
attracted to
her presence. Several languages were to be heard among them, and
Mme.
Blavatsky, while conversing volubly in Russian, apparently quite absorbed,
would
suddenly turn round and interject an observation in English into a
discussion
between other persons upon a different topic to the one she was
engaged with.
This never disturbed her, for she at once returned to her Russian
talk, taking
it up just where it had been dropped.
“Very much
was said on the first evening that arrested my attention and
enchained my
imagination. I found my secret thoughts read, my private affairs
known to her.
Unasked, and certainly without any possibility of her having
inquired
about me, she referred to several private and peculiar circumstances in
a way that
showed at once that she had a perfect knowledge of my family, my
history, my
surroundings, and my idiosyncrasies. On that first evening I brought
with me a
friend, a perfect stranger to her. He was a native of the Sandwich
Islands, who
was studying law in New York, and who had formed all his plans for
a lifelong
stay in that city. He was a young man, and had then no intention of
marrying. But
she carelessly told him, before we left for home, that before six
months he
would cross the continent of America, then make a long voyage, and,
stranger yet
to him, that before all of this he would marry. Of course, the idea
was
pooh-poohed by him. Still fate was too much for him. In a few months he was
invited to
fill an official position in his native land, and before leaving for
that country
he married a lady who was not in America at the time the prophecy
was uttered.
“The next day
I thought I would try an experiment with Mme. Blavatsky. I took an
ancient
scarabaeus that she had never seen, had it wrapped up and sent to her
through the
mails by a clerk in the employment of a [147] friend. My hand
did not touch
the package, nor did I know where it was posted. But when I called
on her at the
end of the week the second time, she greeted me with thanks for
the
scarabaeus. I pretended ignorance. But she said it was useless to pretend,
and then
informed me how I had sent it, and where the clerk had posted it.
During the
time that elapsed between my seeing her and the sending of the
package no
one had heard from me a word about the matter.
“Very soon
after I met her, she moved to 34th Street, and while there I visited
her very
often. In those rooms I used to hear the raps in furniture, in glasses,
mirrors,
windows, and walls, which are usually the accompaniment of dark
'spiritist'
séances. But with her they occurred in the light, and never except
when ordered
by her. Nor could they be induced to continue once that she ordered
them to stop.
They exhibited intelligence also, and would at her request change
from weak to
strong, or from many to few at a time.
“She remained
in 34th Street only a few months, and then removed to 47th Street,
where she
stayed until her departure to India in December 1878. I was a constant
visitor, and
know, as all others do who were as intimate with her as I was, that
the
suspicions which had been breathed about her, and the open charges that have
from time to
time been made, are the foulest injustice or the basest
ingratitude.
At times she has been incensed by these things, and declared that
one more such
incident would forever close the door against all phenomena. But
over and over
again she has relented and forgiven her enemies.
“After she
had comfortably settled herself in 47th Street, where, as usual, she
was from
morning till night surrounded by all sorts of visitors, mysterious
events,
extraordinary sights and sounds, continued to occur. I have sat there
many an
evening, and seen in broad gas light, large luminous balls creeping over
the
furniture, or playfully jumping from point to point, while the most
beautiful
liquid bell sounds now and again burst out from the air of the room.
These sounds
often imitated either the piano or a gamut of sounds whistled by
either myself
[148] or some other person. While all this was going on, H.
P. Blavatsky
sat unconcernedly reading or writing at Isis Unveiled.
“It should be
remarked here that Madame. Blavatsky never exhibited either
hysteria or
the slightest appearance of trance. She was always in the full
possession of
all her faculties — and apparently of more than those of average
people —
whenever she was producing any phenomena.
“In the month
of November or the beginning of December of the same winter, a
photograph
was received from a correspondent at Boston by Colonel Olcott, which
was the
occasion of two very striking phenomena. It purported to be the portrait
of a person
said to have written the books called Art Magic and Ghost Land. The
sender
required Colonel Olcott to return it almost immediately; which he did on
the following
evening, and I myself, being there as a caller, posted it in the
nearest
post-box. Two or three days later a demand was made upon Mme. Blavatsky
for a
duplicate of the picture, in the belief that it would be beyond even her
powers, since
she had no model to copy from. But she actually did it; the
process
consisting merely in her cutting a piece of cardboard to the requisite
size, laying
it under a blotting-paper, placing her hand upon it, and in a
moment
producing the copy demanded. Colonel Olcott took possession of this
picture, and
laid it away in a book that he was then reading, and which he took
to bed with
him. The next morning the portrait had entirely faded out, and only
the name,
written in pencil, was left. A week or two later, seeing this blank
card lying in
Colonel Olcott's room, I took it to Mme. Blavatsky, and requested
her to cause
the portrait to reappear. Complying, she again laid the card under
another sheet
of paper, placed her hand upon it, and presently the face of the
man had come
back as before; this time indelibly imprinted.
“In the front
room where she wrote, there was a bookcase that stood for some
time directly
opposite her writing-desk. Upon its top stood a stuffed owl, whose
glassy, never
- closing eye frequently seemed to follow your [149]
movements.
Indeed, I could relate things a propos of that same defunct bird, but
— in the
words of Jacolliot — ' We have seen things such as one does not relate
for fear of
making his readers doubt his sanity. . . . Still we have seen them.'
Well, over
the top of the doors of the bookcase was a blank space, about three
inches wide,
and running the breadth of the case. One evening we were sitting
talking of
magic as usual, and of 'the Brothers', when Madame said, 'Look at the
bookcase!'
“We looked up
at once, and as we did so, we could see appear, upon the blank
space I have
described, several letters apparently in gold, that came out upon
the surface
of the wood. They covered nearly all of the space. Examination
showed that
they were in gold, and in a character that I had often seen upon
some of her
papers.
This
precipitation of messages or sentences occurred very frequently, and I will
relate one
which took place under my own hand and eyes, in such a way as to be
unimpeachable
for me.
“I was one
day, about four o'clock, reading a book by P. B. Randolph, that had
just been brought
in by a friend of Colonel Olcott. I was sitting some six feet
distant from
H. P. Blavatsky, who was busy writing. I had carefully read the
title-page of
the book, but had forgotten the exact title. But I knew that there
was not one
word of writing upon it. As I began to read the first paragraph I
heard a bell
sound in the air, and looking saw that Mme. Blavatsky was intently
regarding me.
“ 'What book
do you read ? ' said she.
“Turning back
to the title-page, I was about to read aloud the name, when my eye
was arrested
by a message written in ink across the top of the page which, a few
minutes
before, I had looked at and found clear. It was a message in about seven
lines, and
the fluid had not yet quite dried on the page — its contents were a
warning about
the book. I am positive that when I took the volume in my hand,
not one word
was written in it.
“On one
occasion the address of a business firm in Philadelphia was needed for
the purpose
of sending a [150] letter through the mail, and no one present
could
remember the street or number, nor could any directory of Philadelphia be
found in the
neighborhood. The business being very urgent, it was proposed that
one of us
should go down nearly four miles to the General Post Office, so as to
see a
Philadelphia directory. But H. P. B. said: ' Wait a moment, and perhaps we
can get the
address some other way.' She then waved her hand, and instantly we
heard a
signal bell in the air over our heads. We expected no less than that a
heavy
directory would rush at our heads from the empty space, but no such thing
took place.
She sat down, took up a flat tin paper-cutter japanned black on both
sides and
without having any painting on it. Holding this in her left hand, she
gently
stroked it with her right, all the while looking at us with an intense
expression.
After she had rubbed thus for a few moments, faint outlines of
letters began
to show themselves upon the black, shining surface, and presently
the complete
advertisement of the firm whose address we desired was plainly
imprinted
upon the paper-cutter in gilt letters, just as they had had it done on
slips of
blotting paper such as are widely distributed as advertising media in
America — a
fact I afterwards found out. On a close examination, we saw that the
street and
number, which were the doubtful points in our memories, were
precipitated
with great brilliancy, the other words and figures being rather
dimmer. Mme.
Blavatsky said that this was because the mind of the operator was
directed
almost entirely to the street and number, so that their reproduction
was brought
about with much greater distinctness than the rest of the
advertisement,
which was, so to speak, dragged in in a rather accidental way.
“About any
object that might be transported mysteriously around her room, or
that came
into it through the air by supermundane means, there always lingered
for a greater
or less space of time, a very peculiar though pleasant odour. It
was not
always the same. At one time it was sandal-wood mixed with what I
thought was
otto of roses; at another time some unknown Eastern perfume, and
again it came
like the incense burnt in temples. [151]
“One day she
asked me if I would care to smell again the perfume. Upon my
replying
affirmatively, she took my handkerchief in her hand, held it for a few
moments, and
when she gave it back to me it was heavy with the well-known odour.
Then, in
order to show me that her hand was not covered with something that
would come
off upon the handkerchief, she permitted me to examine both hands.
They were
without perfume. But after I had convinced myself that there was no
perfumery or
odoriferous objects concealed in her hands, I found from one hand
beginning to
exhale one peculiar strong perfume, while from the other there
rolled out
strong waves of the incense.
“On the table
at which Isis Unveiled was written stood a little Chinese cabinet
with many
small drawers. A few of the drawers contained some trifles, but there
were several
that were always kept empty. The cabinet was an ordinary one of its
class, and
repeated examination showed that there were no devices or mechanical
arrangements
in it, or connected with it; but many a time has one of those empty
drawers
become the vanishing point of various articles, and as often, on the
other hand,
was the birthplace of some object which had not before been seen in
the rooms. I
have often seen her put small coins or a ring or amulet, and have
put things in
there myself, closed the drawer, almost instantly reopening it,
and nothing
was visible. It had disappeared from sight Clever conjurers have
been known to
produce such illusions, but they always require some confederacy,
or else they
delude you into believing that they had put the object in, when in
reality they
did not. With H. P. B. there was no preparation. I repeatedly
examined the
cabinet, and positively say that there was no means by which things
could be
dropped out of sight or out of the drawer ; it stood on four small
legs,
elevated about two inches above the desk, which was quite clear and
unbroken
underneath. Several times I have seen her put a ring into one of the
drawers and
then leave the room. I then looked in the drawer, saw the ring in
it, and
closed it again. She then returned, and without coming near the cabinet
showed me the
same ring on her finger. I then [152] looked again in the
drawer before
she again came near it, and the ring was gone.
“One day Mrs
Elizabeth Thompson, the philanthropist, who had a great regard for
H. P. B.,
called to see her. I was present. When about to leave, the visitor
asked Madame
to lend her some object which she had worn, as a reminder and as a
talisman. The
request being acceded to, the choice was left to the lady, who
hesitated a
moment; Madame then said, ' Take this ring,' immediately drawing it
off and
handing it to her friend, who placed it upon her finger, absorbed in
admiring the
stones. But I was looking at H. P. B.'s fingers, and saw that the
ring was yet
on her hand. Hardly believing my eyes, I looked at the other. There
was no
mistake. There were now two rings; but the lady did not observe this, and
went off
satisfied she had the right one. In a few days she returned it to
Madame, who
then told me that one of the rings was an illusion, leaving it to me
to guess
which one. I could not decide, for she pushed the returned ring up
along her
finger against the old one, and both merged into one.
“One evening
several persons were present after dinner, all, of course, talking
about
theosophy and occultism. H. P. B. was sitting at her desk. While we were
all engaged
in conversation somebody said that he heard music, and went out into
the hall
where he thought it came from. While he was examining the hall, the
person
sitting near the fireplace said that instead of being in the hall, the
music, which
was that of a musical box, was playing up in the chimney. The
gentleman who
had gone into the passage then returned and said that he had lost
the music,
but at once was thoroughly amazed to find us all listening at the
fireplace,
when he in turn heard the music plainly. Just as he began to listen,
the music
floated out into the room, and very distinctly finished the tune in
the air over
our heads. I have on various occasions heard this music in many
ways, and
always when there was not any instrument to produce it.
“On this
evening, a little while after the music, Madame opened one of the
drawers of
the Chinese [153] cabinet and took from it an Oriental necklace
of curious
beads. This she gave to a lady present. One of the gentlemen allowed
to escape him
an expression of regret that he had not received such a
testimonial.
Thereupon H. P. B. reached over and grasped one of the beads of the
necklace
which the lady was still holding in her hands, and the bead at once
came off in
Madame's hand. She then passed it to the gentleman, who exclaimed
that it was
not merely a bead but was now a breast-pin, as there was a gold pin
fastened
securely in it. The necklace meanwhile remained intact, and its
recipient was
examining it in wonder that one of its beads could have been thus
pulled off
without breaking it.
“I have heard
it said that when H. P. B. was a young woman, after coming back to
her family
for the first time in many years, everyone in her company was amazed
and
affrighted to see material objects such as cups, books, her tobacco pouch
and
match-box, and so forth, come flying through the air into her hand, merely
when she
gazed intently at them. The stories of her early days can be readily
credited by
those who saw similar things done at the New York headquarters. Such
aerial
flights were many times performed by objects at her command in my
presence. One
evening I was in a hurry to copy a drawing I had made, and looked
about on the
table for a paper-cutter with which to rub the back of the drawing
so as to
transfer the surplus carbon to a clean sheet.
“As I
searched, it was suggested by someone that the round smooth back of a
spoon bowl
would be the best means, and I arose to go to the kitchen at the end
of the hall
for a spoon. But Mme. Blavatsky said, 'Stop, you need not go there;
wait a
moment.' I stopped at the door, and she, sitting in her chair, held up
her left
hand. At that instant a large table-spoon flew through the air across
the room from
out of the opposite wall and into her hand. No one was there to
throw it to
her, and the dining-room from which it had been transported was
about thirty
feet distant; two brick walls separating it from the front room.
“In the next
room — the wall between being solid — [154] there hung near
the window a
water-color portrait in a frame with glass. I had just gone into
that room and
looked at the picture. No one was in the room but myself, and no
one went
there afterwards until I returned there. When I came into the place
where H. P.
B. was sitting, and after I had been sitting down a few moments, she
took up a
piece of paper and wrote upon it a few words, handing it over to me to
put away
without looking at it. This I did. She then asked me to return to the
other room. I
went there, and at once saw that the picture which, a few moments
before, I had
looked at, had in some way been either moved or broken. On
examining it
I found that the glass was smashed, and that the securely fastened
back had been
opened, allowing the picture within to fall to the floor. Looking
down I saw it
lying there. Going back to the other room I opened and read what
had been
written on the slip of paper, it was :—
“ ' The
picture of ------ in the dining-room has just been opened; the glass is
smashed and
the painting is on the floor.'
“One day,
while she was talking with me, she suddenly stopped and said,
'So-and-so is
now talking of me to -----, and says, etc.' I made a note of the
hour, and on
the first opportunity discovered that she had actually heard the
person named
saying just what she told me had been said at the very time noted.
“My office
was at least three miles away from her rooms”: One day, at about 2
P.M., I was
sitting in my office engaged in reading a legal document, my mind
intent on the
subject of the paper. No one else was in the office, and in fact
the nearest
room was separated from me by a wide opening, or well, in the
building,
made to let light into the inner chambers. Suddenly I felt on my hand
a peculiar
tingling sensation that always preceded any strange thing to happen
in the
presence of H. P. B., and at that moment there fell from the ceiling upon
the edge of
my desk, and from there to the floor, a triangularly-folded note
from Madame
to myself. It was written upon the clean back of a printed Jain
sutra or
text. The message was in her handwriting, [155] and was addressed
to me in her
writing across the printed face.
“I remember
one phenomenon in connection with the making of a water-color
drawing of an
Egyptian subject for her, which also illustrates what the
Spiritualists
call apport, or the bringing phenomenally of objects from some
distant
place. I was in want of certain dry colors which she could not furnish
me from her
collection, and as the drawing must be finished at that sitting, and
there was no
shop nearby where I could purchase them, it seemed a dilemma until
she stepped
towards the cottage piano, and, holding up the skirt of her robe de
chambre with
both hands, received into it seventeen bottles of Winsor & Newton
dry colors,
among them those I required. I still wanted some gold-paint, so she
caused me to
bring her a saucer from the dining-room, and to give her the brass
key of the
door. She rubbed the key upon the bottom of the saucer for a minute
or two, and
then, returning them to me, I found a supply of the paint I required
coating the
porcelain.”
I should
hardly venture to communicate the foregoing narrative to the public if
it were not
for the obvious impossibility, in editing memoirs of Mme. Blavatsky,
of keeping
the various experiences recorded of her within the limits of that
which is
generally held to be credible. Certainly no one person of those who
have had
opportunities of observing the phenomena occurring in her presence
could hope to
be regarded by the world at large as both sane and truthful in
relating his
experience. But fortified as each witness is in turn by the
testimony of
all the others, the situation must be recognised as involving
difficulties
for critics who contend that one and all, near relations, old
friends,
casual acquaintances, or intimates of her later years, are all
possessed
with a mania for trumping up fictitious stories about Mme. Blavatsky,
or all in
different parts of the world, and at [156] widely different
periods,
sharing in an epidemic hallucination in regard to her, while in no
other
respects exhibiting abnormal conditions of mind.
The first
incident during her stay in America which seems to have drawn the
attention of
the newspapers to Mme. Blavatsky was the death and cremation, under
the auspices
of the Theosophical Society, of an eccentric personage known in New
York as “the
Baron de Palm”. Among other eccentricities that he committed, he
made a will
shortly before his death professing to bequeath a considerable
fortune to
the Theosophical Society, but on inquiry it turned out that the
property
referred to in this document existed in his imagination alone. The
newspapers
credited the Society with having acquired great wealth by seducing
the
sympathies of this guileless millionaire, when in reality his effects did
not meet the
cost of the ceremonies connected with burning his body. However,
the Society
and Mme. Blavatsky suddenly sprang into local notoriety.
“Fancy my
surprise . . .” she wrote about this time to her sister.
“I am —
heaven help us ! — becoming fashionable, as it seems I am writing
articles on
Esotericism and Nirvana, and paid for them more than I could have
ever
expected, though I have hardly any time for writing for money. . . .
Believe me,
and you will, for you know me, I cannot make myself realize that I
have ever
been able to write decently. ... If I were unknown, no publisher or
editor would
have ever paid any attention to me. . . . It's all vanity and
fashion. . .
. Luckily for the publishers, I have never been vain.”
In the course
of another family letter she writes: —
“Upon my
word, I can hardly understand why you and people generally should make
such a fuss
over my [157] writings, whether Russian or English! True,
during the
long years of my absence from home, I have constantly studied and
have learned
certain things. But when I wrote "/sis", I wrote it so easily that
it was
certainly no labor, but a real pleasure. Why should I be praised for it?
Whenever I am
told to write, I sit down and obey, and then I can write easily
upon almost
anything — metaphysics, psychology, philosophy, ancient religions,
zoology,
natural sciences, or what not. I never put myself the question: ' Can I
write on this
subject? . . .' or, ' Am I equal to the task ?' but I simply sit
down and
write. Why ? Because somebody who knows all dictates to me. . . . My
MASTER, and
occasionally others whom I knew in my travels years ago. . . .
Please do not
imagine that I have lost my senses. I have hinted to you before
now about
them . . . and I tell you candidly, that whenever I write upon a
subject I
know little or nothing of, I address myself to Them, and one of Them
inspires me,
i.e. He allows me to simply copy what I write from manuscripts, and
even printed
matter that pass before my eyes, in the air, during which process I
have never
been unconscious one single instant. ... It is that knowledge of His
protection
and faith in His power that have enabled me to become mentally and
spiritually so
strong . . . and even He (the Master) is not always required;
for, during
His absence on some other occupation, He awakens in me His
substitute in
knowledge. At such times it is no more / who write, but my inner
Ego, my '
luminous self,' who thinks and writes for me. Only see . . . you who
know me. When
was I ever so learned as to write such things? . . . Whence all
this
knowledge? . . .”
On another
occasion again she wrote also to her sister: —
“You may
disbelieve me, but I tell you that in saying this I speak but the
truth; I am
solely occupied, not with writing Isis, but with "Isis" herself. I
live in a
kind of permanent enchantment, a life of visions and sights with open
eyes, and no
trance whatever to deceive my senses! I sit and watch the fair
goddess
constantly.[158] And as she displays before me the secret meaning
of her long
lost secrets, and the veil, becoming with every hour thinner and
more
transparent, gradually falls off before my eyes, I hold my breath and can
hardly trust
to my senses! . . . For several years, in order not to forget what
I have
learned elsewhere, I have been made to have permanently before my eyes
all that I
need to see. Thus night and day, the images of the past are ever
marshaled
before my inner eye. Slowly, and gliding silently like images in an
enchanted
panorama, centuries after centuries appear before me, . . . and I am
made to
connect these epochs with certain historical events, and I know there
can be no
mistake. Races and nations, countries and cities, emerge during some
former
century, then fade out and disappear during some other one, the precise
date of which
I am then told by ... Hoary antiquity gives room to historical
periods;
myths are explained by real events and personages who have really
existed ; and
every important, and often unimportant event, every revolution, a
new leaf
turned in the book of life of nations — with its incipient course and
subsequent
natural results — remains photographed in my mind as though impressed
in indelible
colours. . . . When I think and watch my thoughts, they appear to
me as though
they were like those little bits of wood of various shapes and
colors in the
game known as the casse tête: I pick them up one by one, and try
to make them fit
each other, first taking one, then putting it aside, until I
find its
match, and finally there always comes out in the end something
geometrically
correct. ... I certainly refuse point-blank to attribute it to my
own knowledge
or memory, for I could never arrive alone at either such premises
or
conclusions. ... I tell you seriously I am helped. And He who helps me is my
GURU. . . .”
As belonging
to the period of Mme. Blavatsky's residence in America, mention may
here be made
of a remarkable incident with which she was closely concerned,
though it was
not accomplished by the exercise of her own abnormal powers.[
159]
Prince Emile
Wittgenstein, a Russian officer, and an old friend who had known
her from
childhood, was in correspondence with her at the time of the formation
of the
Theosophical Society. In consequence of certain warnings addressed to him
at spiritual
seances concerning fatalities which would menace him if he took
part in the
war on the Danube then impending, Mme. Blavatsky was instructed by
her unseen
spiritual chief to inform him that on the contrary he would be
specially
taken care of during the campaign, and that the spiritualistic warning
would be
confuted. The course of subsequent events will best be described by the
quotation of
a letter afterwards addressed by the Prince to an English journal
devoted to
spiritualism. This was as follows: —
“ TO THE EDITOR OF THE ' SPIRITUALIST'.
“Allow me, for the sake of those who believe
in spirit predictions, to tell
you a story about incidents which happened to
me last year, and about which I,
for months past, have wished to talk to you,
without, till now, finding time
to do so. The narrative may perhaps be a
warning to some of the too credulous
persons to whom every medial message is a
gospel, and who too often accept as
true what are perhaps the lies of some light
spirit, or even the reflection of
their own thoughts or wishes. I believe that
the fulfilment of a prediction is
such an exceptional thing that in general one
ought to set no faith in such
prophecies, but should avoid them as much as
possible, lest they have undue
influence upon our mind, faith, and
free-will.
“A year and some months ago, while getting
ready to join our army on the
Danube, I received first one letter, and
afterwards a few more, from a very
kind friend of mine and a powerful medium in
America, beseeching me, in very
anxious words, not to go to the war — a
spirit had predicted that the campaign
would be fatal to me, and having ordered my
correspondent to write to me the
[160] following words, ' Beware of the war
saddle ! It will be your
death, or worse still!'
“I confess that these reiterated warnings were
not agreeable, especially when
received at the moment of starting upon such
a journey; but I forced myself to
disbelieve them. My cousin, the Baroness
Adelina von Vay, to whom I had
written about the matter, encouraged me in
doing so, and I started.
“Now it seems that this prediction became
known also to some of my
theosophical friends at New York, who were
indignant at it, and decided to do
their utmost to make it of no avail. And
especially one of the leading
brethren of the Society, and residing far
away from America, promised by the
force of his will to shield me from every
danger.
“The fact is, that during the whole campaign,
I did not see one shot explode
near me, and that, so far as danger was
concerned, I could just as well have
remained at Vevey. I was quite ashamed of
myself, and sought occasion now and
then, to hear at least once the familiar roar
and whistle which, in my younger
years, were such usual music to me. All in
vain I Whenever I was near a scene
of action, the enemy's fire ceased. I
remember having once, during the third
bloody storming of Plevna, with my friend,
your Colonel Wellesley, stolen away
from the Emperor's staff, in order to ride
down to a battery of ours which was
exchanging a tremendous fire with the redoubt
of Grivitsa. As soon as we,
after abandoning our horses further back in
the brushwood, arrived at the
battery, the Turkish fire ceased as by
enchantment, to begin again only when
we left it half-an-hour later, although our
guns kept on blazing away at them
without interruption. I also tried twice to
see some of the bombarding of
Guirgiewo, where all the windows were broken,
doors torn out, roofs broken
down at the Railway Station by the daily
firing from Rustchuk. I stopped there
once a whole night, and another time half a
day, always in the hope of seeing
something. As long as I was there, the scene
was quiet as in the times of
peace, and the firing recommenced as soon as
I had left the place. Some days
after my last visit to Guirgiewo, [161]
Colonel Wellesley passed it, and
had part of his luggage destroyed by a shell,
which, breaking through the roof
into the gallery, tore to pieces two soldiers
who were standing near.
"I cannot believe all this to be the
sole result of chance. It was too
regular, too positive to be explained thus.
It is, I am sure of it, magic —
the more so as the person who protected me
thus efficaciously is one of the
most powerful masters of the occult science
professed by the theosophists. I
can relate, by way of contrast, the following
fact, which happened during the
war on the Danube, in 1854, at the siege of
Silistria. A very distinguished
Engineer General of ours, who led our approaches,
was a faithful spiritualist,
and believed every word which he wrote down
by the help of a psychograph as a
genuine revelation from superior spirits. Now
these spirits had predicted to
him that he would return from the war unhurt,
and covered with fame and glory.
The result of this was that he exposed
himself openly, madly, to the enemy's
fire, till at last a shot tore off his leg,
and he died some weeks later. This
is the faith we ought to have in predictions,
and I hope my narrative may be
welcome to you, as a warning to many.—
Truly yours,
“(PRINCE) E. WITTGENSTEIN (F.T.S.).
“VEVEY, SWITZERLAND, ”
18th June 1878.”
Apart from
the intrinsic interest of this narrative it is important as showing
definitely —
what indeed is notorious for all who knew Mme. Blavatsky at the
period to
which it refers — that she had already, while the Theosophical Society
was still in
its infancy in New York, declared the existence of “the Brothers”,
whom she has
been so absurdly accused by her recent critics of inventing at a
far later
date.
The Countess
Wachtmeister, whose name will reappear in this narrative later on,
sends me
another independent account of Mme. Blavatsky's doings in America,
communicated [162]
to her by the gentleman concerned. She writes: —
“Mr Felix
Cunningham, a young American of large fortune, describes a scene which
took place
one evening when visiting Mme. Blavatsky in America. For some time
past he had
been terribly annoyed by certain manifestations which took place in
his own
presence : chairs would suddenly begin to hop about the room, knives and
forks would
dance upon the tables, and bells would ring all over the house; in
fact, such a
carillon would sometimes be set going that the landlord would
politely
request him to depart, and he would have to go in quest of another
apartment,
where, after a few days' sojourn, the same comedy would be repeated,
until he felt
like a wandering Jew, nearly driven wild by his invisible foes.
Having heard
of Mme. Blavatsky's great abnormal powers, he hoped through her to
get a relief
to his sufferings, and it was with a feeling of intense curiosity
that, having
been fortunate in obtaining an introduction to that lady, he one
evening entered
her drawing-room, to find her surrounded by a circle of admiring
friends. When
at last he was able to approach her, she invited him to sit on the
sofa near
her, and patiently listened to the long recital of his misfortunes.
Mme.
Blavatsky then explained to him that these phenomena were the result partly
of his own
psychic force and partly the work of elementals, and she explained to
him the
process through which he might either rid himself of such disturbances
for the
future, or else how he could obtain complete control over these powers
of nature,
and produce phenomena at will. This seemed, to Mr Cunningham as so
utterly
incredible that, though he kept his feelings to himself, he classed Mme.
Blavatsky in
his own mind as either a charlatan or a victim to her delusions.
What was his
astonishment, then, when a few moments later she turned to him in
the midst of
an animated discourse she was holding with some professor on '
Darwin's
System of Evolution,' and said, ' Well, Mr Cunningham, so you think it
is all a sham
? I will give you a proof that it is not, if you like. Tell me,
what would
you like to have ? [163] Desire something without mentioning it
aloud, and
you shall have it.” He thought of a rose, there being no flowers in
the room, and
as the thought fastened itself on his mind, his gaze was directed
upwards, and
there to his astonishment he saw a large full-blown rose suddenly
appear near
the ceiling; it descended swiftly but surely towards him, the stalk
going right
through his buttonhole, and when he took out the rose to examine it,
he found that
it had been freshly plucked, and that the dew was hanging to the
petals and
leaves. Mme. Blavatsky, who had never moved from her corner of the
sofa, looked
at his bewilderment with amusement, and explained to him that when
once man has
obtained control over the elementals, such a phenomenon is simple
as child's
play.”
Some
interesting reminiscences of Mme. Blavatsky's New York residence are
contained in
an article published recently by the New York Times in its issue of
2nd January
1885. The writer, noticing some then current news illustrating the
progress in
India of the Theosophical Society, says: —
““This
intelligence is interesting to the general reader, mainly as it serves to
recall a most
curious phase of modern thought. Its development nearly ten years
ago in New
York attracted much attention. The doings of the strange society
mentioned in
the French flat at Eighth Avenue and Forty-seventh Street, where