A DANCE WITH THE DEAD by Franz Hartmann

The following occurrence has been told to the writer by one of his friends, for whose reliability he is responsible.

« It is now more than thirty years since the following event took place, and the reason why I have never said much about it is, that I am not a believer in the reality of spooks, hobgoblins or ghosts; neither do I wish to be suspected by clever people of harboring such superstitions. I would never have expected anyone to believe in the truth of my tale, and I have often tried my best to persuade myself that it was only a dream.

Still it was as real to me when it occurred as any other event iii my life, and now as the recent Theosophical teachings have thrown a new light upon such subjects and explained them in a perfectly natural way, I can see no reason why I should not make public what heretofore I regarded as unexplainable and as too sacred to come before the eye of the sceptic.

In the year 1860, my parents and I, with my two sisters Bertha and Johanna, were living in a large and commodious house, a kind of château on the top of a hill near the town of G__, in Southern Bavaria. The name of the house was Hannstein, and it was formerly the residence of one of the bishops that ruled over the country in the last century.

These bishops had large retinues and were lovers of comfort, consequently the house was provided with many rooms and corridors, connected by a labyrinth of staircases and private passages. My own room was adjoining a large dining-hall on the second floor, and the hall opened upon a gallery at the end of which was the principal staircase.

My elder sister, Bertha, was a sedate girl, not very attractive, but very kindhearted. She did not care for amusements, but loved books and poetry and painting — in fact she was a little artist herself; but Johanna, the younger sister, was very beautiful, full of fun and merriment; especially she was passionately fond of dancing, and in her exuberance of spirits she often took hold of me and made me dance with her round the room, to my great vexation, because I never knew how to dance well, and would become giddy; and then when I stumbled about trying to regain my equilibrium, she would laugh at my clumsiness until the tears ran down her cheeks — all of which, however, only amused me, for she was my favorite sister and the pet of the family.

Unfortunately during one cold winter night and while attending a ball in a neighboring town, Johanna contracted a severe cold, which developed rapidly into pulmonary consumption. At that time I was at the university at Munich, studying medicine.

The letters which I received from home still informed me that Johanna’s health was improving, and it was expected that she would recover; but when I came home during vacation I saw a bright red spot upon one of her cheeks that told me about the progress of her disease. Nevertheless Johanna had lost none of the gaiety of her temperament; she was not visibly depressed in spirit, and bore her sufferings with great fortitude.

After vacation was over I returned to Munich, and the news from home in regard to Johanna's health became gradually worse, until one morning, when I returned home at daybreak, after having spent, as I am now bound to confess, the whole night in singing and drinking with my comrades, I found a telegram upon my- desk, informing me, that if I wanted to see Johanna alive once more, I must come home without a moment’s delay.

Here I must interpolate a word in defense of my character, Let not the reader hold up his hands in holy horror for having been unblushingly told that I spent a night in carousal. The German student is held under great restraint until he comes to the university. He is then at once liberated and left to do what he pleases, and it is only natural that he should commit occasional excesses in enjoying his liberty and give vent to inclinations that grew strong, because they were suppressed.

The dispatch had arrived the previous evening, and there was no time to be lost; but, unfortunately, the fast train, the only one connecting with the stage at K__, did not leave until four p.m., so I had to restrain my impatience and wait, and I passed the time in cursing my folly for not having returned home sooner, in which case I could have taken the midnight train.

Slowly as the hours passed, the torture of waiting at last came to an end, and we started, arriving at K__ at eight p.m., which was then the nearest point of the railway to G__, and left me still three hours to travel by stage. It was a dismal night in November; dark clouds hovered upon the sky, rain and sleet were falling, and the roads were in a deplorable condition.

With an air of resignation to the unavoidable, the driver mounted the box, while I vainly tried to find some way for stretching my limbs in the inside of the coach. Off we went in good style, which continued as long as the paved street lasted; but when we were once outside the town the road became very bad, and the poor horses could pull the heavy coach only at a slow pace, which in some places for a short time improved into a trot.

What I suffered during that trip would be difficult to describe. Impatience and remorse, the desire to see my sister once more, the fear of being too late, together with the physical discomfort occasioned by cold and moisture, and the shaking, thumping and bouncing of the coach, rendered my position altogether unenviable.

In addition to that I experienced fatigue from having had no sleep on the previous night. I was so exhausted, that I must have fallen into a doze, for my recollection of the latter part of my journey is very indistinct. I only know that I was aroused by a sudden rattling of wheels over cobblestones, and then the carriage came to a stop with a jerk that threw me down from my seat.

I crawled out of the coach, and found that we were at the inn called the “Goldenes Kreuz,” and by the aid of the lamp at the corner I looked at my watch and found that it was nearly midnight.

Hastily I walked on up the hill to Hannstein, and arrived at the old mansion.  Impatiently I rang the bell at the door, and after a while our old deaf porter opened and stared at me with a vacant look. I did not stop to ask questions, but hurried upstairs to the great hall that led to my room, for the purpose of divesting myself, of my great coat. I lighted the candle upon the table, then pulled off my coat, and as I turned round I faced my sister Johanna, standing before me with a pleasant smile upon her lips.

I now remember well that I was a little startled by seeing her dressed in white muslin, with a wreath of white roses upon her brow, while her long dark brown hair fell in ringlets over her shoulders; but I was too much surprised at seeing her well and alive, and at such an unusual hour before me, to reflect upon the peculiarity of her dress.

She looked somewhat pale, but the bright red spot upon her cheek had departed, and her eyes seemed to me brighter than usual, although there was in them a somewhat dreamy expression.

-      “Why, Johanna!” I exclaimed, grasping both her hands, “did you hear me come?  How glad I am to see you so well; I thought you were very sick."

-      “I am perfectly well,” answered my sister.

And in fact there was nothing about her appearance or manner indicating anything to the contrary, unless perhaps that her voice seemed to have a peculiar sound, as of coming from afar; but this I attributed to the condition of the large hall, in which every sound seemed to be echoed back from vacant space.

She was the same gay and beautiful girl 1 had known before I went to Munich; there was about her beauty even something more ethereal than before; which may have been due to the contrast which her dark tresses formed with her white apparel.

-      “I can hardly believe my eyes,” I said, patting her caressingly upon the cheek;“ I expected to find you unable to move, and now you look as if you were ready to go to a ball.”

Johanna smiled, and as if desirous of proving to me that she could move, she swiftly turned several times round with graceful motions, and then taking hold of me made me waltz with her round the hall, just as she had done in former times, and without listening to my protest that I could not dance in my heavy boots.

Her steps were inaudible and she seemed to have no weight; but my nailed boots made a great clatter that sounded dismally through the hall. At last I became so giddy that I begged her to stop. I disengaged myself from her grasp and stood still, and as the walls seemed to turn round me in swift motion, I held my hands over my eyes.

When I opened my eyes again, Johanna had gone; I was alone in the hall. Hastily I opened the door to run after her, and as I did so I found Sister Alfonsa in the gallery, holding a lighted candle. Now Sister Alfonsa was well known to me and I to her; she was a nun from a neighboring convent, and used to wait upon the sick and hold vigils with the bodies of the dead.

Small and emaciated she was and herself near the grave; nevertheless she was a courageous little woman, and as she stood there with her black gown and white veil, holding the lighted candle in one hand and a rosary in the other, she showed no fear; there was rather a look of defiance about her; which changed into astonishment as she recognized me.

-      “What is the matter, Sister Alfonsa?” I asked. “Did you see Johanna?”

-      “It is for me to ask you, sir, what is the matter,” she answered.

-      “I came to see what is the cause of this unearthly noise and trampling of feet over the chamber of the dead.”

-      “Who is dead?” I asked in surprise. “Johanna was here and made me dance with her, to show me that she was well. Where is she? Did you not meet her in the gallery?”

The nun crossed herself and looked at me enquiringly, as if to see whether I was drunk or insane. At last she said:

-      “The Lord have mercy! Your sister Johanna died at six o'clock last evening. I have been sitting up with the corpse.”

I listened no longer, but hurried down stairs; and true- enough, in the room below the great hall, there was the body of Johanna laid out upon the bier, dressed in white muslin, with a wreath of white roses in her unloosened hair. The red spot was gone, her hands were folded as if in prayer, and a sweet peaceful smile rested upon her lips.

My sister Bertha also made her appearance and confirmed the tale that Johanna had died at six p.m., and added that the last wish which the dying girl had expressed was that she should see me once more.

~ * ~

Now everyone may explain this occurrence to his or her own satisfaction. I do not believe in a return of the spirits of the dead that have gone to heaven, but I believe that the astral form of a person on becoming separated from the body by death may do many strange things, according to the instincts dwelling therein. »

(Lucifer revue, November 1892, vol. 11, p.219-223)

OBSERVATIONS

I could not tell you if that story was a real event or if it was invented or imagined by his narrator, but although for some it may seem a very fanciful narration, from an esoteric point of view, it is possible that it happened because there are many testimonies of people who claim to have been visited by a loved one when this human was dying elsewhere.

And this is because at the moment of death, the human who is dying and very intensely wishing to see someone, he projects his astral body towards that person, and in some cases materializes his astral body becoming visible, and even sometimes he can talk with that person.

Usually this occurs at the time of death or shortly after; however, in Johanna´s case, it is surprising that six hours have passed, because the masters explain that just after death, the humans fall into a deep sleep, but maybe the intense desire that she had to see her brother, that allowed her to keep her consciousness still awake.

However, to wait six hours, and then being able to materialize the astral body at will, it is not something that an ordinary human can easily achieve. So I suspect that a higher being must have helped Johanna to accomplish her desire.

And surely, some of you will ask:

Why would a higher being satisfy this wish to Johanna?

And one possible explanation would be because of karma, since positive karma seeks to satisfy our desires, and since Johanna seems to have been a good woman, it is possible that karma has granted her desire to be able to say goodbye to her brother before she leaves the physical plane.