Observations placeholder

Death and its Mystery – After Death – Camille Flammarian

On May 25, 1899, I received the following letter from Marseilles:

Allow me to tell you for your instructive investigations, of something that happened to me personally. I am forty-two years old. I was brought up in a religious atmosphere; unfortunately for me, I lost my faith as a result of the misfortunes without number which have afflicted me for many years-and are still afflicting me without truce or mercy. I scarcely believe any longer.

But I am bringing up my child as I myself was brought up, happy to see in him the faith and the religious feeling which were the joy of my youth. I have, therefore, no prejudices; I suggest no explanation; on the contrary, I shall analyze, coldly, what follows:

Ten years ago, at two o'clock in the morning, my father died suddenly, in my arms. All the proper religious observances were complied with, and masses-though not in sufficient numbers, perhaps-were said for him.

One night, at two o'clock, six months afterward, my wife and I were awakened by a lively scratching in the bed curtains. Then every night, at the same hour, the scratching began again, each time in a different place in the room. Every night I would get up and light the gas, but I could find nothing. I had the upholsterer come. The bed was taken to pieces,- both the hangings and the top covering,-for I thought mice might be in it. But not a trace of anything was found. On those same nights, at the same hour, my mother, who was living on our estate, was awakened by the beating of wings in her room. It goes without saying that there was no trace of anything there, either.

We thought of my father, and had masses said, and since then we have never heard anything more.

I must add this detail: whenever I was awakened, it was always at two o'clock in the morning. I must add, too, that on the second or third night on which we were awakened, my wife thought of my father and confided her thoughts to me. Immediately, without the slightest fear, I said aloud,

 “Papa, if that's you, speak or appear to us.”

 The noise ceased at once.

So far as I am concerned (my coolness is said to be extraordinary), I have no doubts as to this manifestation. I am very sure that there was no autosuggestion on my part, for I analysed my impressions at the moment when I had them. This took place in Bordeaux, in 1889. My name is for you alone.

A. T.

(Letter 702.)