Translation from German by Robert Hutwohl[1]
In September 1874, in Orenburg (Russia), a wealthy Jewish merchant named Abraham Charlson was seriously ill with nervous fever. Everyone in the town knew him; he was married and the father of several children. On the 22nd day of the same month, his condition worsened and at midnight the doctor pronounced him dead. The neighbours were called together, candles were lit and prayers were said; the wife and children wept; but suddenly the body of the apparently dead man twitched, let out a deep sigh and began to breathe again. The sick man opened his eyes, looked at his surroundings in amazement and then fell into a deep sleep from which he did not awake until the next morning. What happened next was very strange; for he did not recognize his wife or children, but angrily pushed them away when they approached him. Moreover, he now spoke in a language that no one understood. Before he had only known a mixture of German and Hebrew, as well as some Russian, but now he didn’t seem to understand a word of any of that. After a week he was strong enough to get out of bed; but when his caftan[2] was brought to him he rejected it too with disgust and would not put on his clothes. Doctors were called and “confirmed” that he was insane. His appearance had not changed at all. To all appearances he was the same tall, gaunt Jew he had been before, with hanging locks of hair, a long black beard, and deep wrinkles on his forehead; but despite all this he could not utter a word that those around him could understand, did not seem to know his family, and did not recognize his nearest relatives. One day, when he happened to see himself in a mirror, he uttered a cry of horror. He clutched at his beard, his locks, and his oriental nose, and acted quite desperate.
The case caused a great sensation, and a report of it reached St. Petersburg. As a result, Professor Orlov undertook to investigate the matter. He was very surprised to find that this uneducated Jew spoke pure English and could also write it correctly, although he had never learned it. The Jew declared with the greatest certainty that he was not Abraham Charlson at all, that he did not know his alleged family, that he had never been to Orenburg, and did not know how he had come to that place; that he was not a Russian, but an Englishman named Abraham Durham, born in New Westminster, British Columbia, where he always lived and had a fur business. He also had a wife and child there, and that he himself was of small stature, but somewhat corpulent, and had blond hair and a blond beard.
The professor was at a loss as to what to do, and his colleagues who were called in to help him were equally unable to explain the mystery. They saw that the man was evidently an educated Englishman, while the whole family and all relatives swore that he was Abraham Charlson. While the investigations were still going on, one day Abraham disappeared.
In 1875, Professor Orlov was sent to America by the Russian government on the subject of the International Exhibition. One day, while in New York, he came across a newspaper from New Westminster in British Columbia, which contained the following article:
“An incident which recently occurred in New Westminster has caused great excitement in all quarters. On the 22nd of September, 1874, a local fur trader, who had been suffering from nervous fever, was dying. Even the doctors had given up all hope of his recovery. Nevertheless, after lying in a kind of tetanus, he regained consciousness and recovered in a short time; but whereas he was of sound mind before his illness, he now speaks a language which no one at first understood; until at last someone was found who claims that it is a mixture of bad German and Hebrew. The fur trader, an Englishman by birth, has forgotten his native tongue, no longer knows his wife, child or friends, and claims that he has a wife and children somewhere else.
“There comes one day a European traveller, who looks exactly like a Jew, and claims to be the husband of the fur trader’s wife. He speaks pure English, and reminds her and the fur trader’s parents of certain things from the past which only they can know. The poor woman is quite distressed and asks: “Who is this man?” If she hears him speak without looking at him, she might think he was her husband; but as soon as she sees him, the illusion is over. The man with the Jewish nose and the black curls cannot be her husband.”
Professor Orlov read this article repeatedly and the idea occurred to him that this seemingly impossible event might be connected with the case of Abraham Charlson in Orenburg. He sent a report to the Russian ambassador and asked for an extended leave of absence to go to New Westminster. He arrived there last June and was surprised to find the same gaunt, black-haired Jew Abraham Charlson of Orenburg who had escaped from Russia on a ship to Hull and who now claimed to be Abraham Durham. But there was also the other one whom the Jew had described as short, corpulent and fair, and whom everyone said was Abraham Durham, while the latter himself did not understand English and spoke only a German-Jewish dialect. He also answered the professor’s questions that his name was Abraham Charlson, that he was from Orenburg and that he had a wife and children there.
Another strange “coincidence” attracted the professor’s attention: The transformation of Abraham Charlson in Orenburg took place on September 22, 1874, at midnight, and that of Abraham Durham in New Westminster on the same day at noon. The time difference between the two places is more than 12 hours, so that at midnight in Orenburg it is twelve noon in New Westminster. Could it be that an exchange of souls between the two persons could have taken place at the same time?
Notes:
[1] The above story comes from papers in the possession of H. P. Blavatsky. Whether this is a joke or whether the matter really happened is something the reader can judge for himself. Nevertheless, such a case of transmigration of souls or mutual possession is not outside the realm of possibility, and there are numerous known cases in which a person who had apparently died awoke and was then a completely different person. I remember a sailor on a sailing ship who was one of the roughest and most incorrigible fellows who apparently died. When he awoke he was a completely different person; he summoned the captain and crew to his bed and gave them such an edifying sermon that they were all moved to tears. Then he breathed his last, this time for ever. F. H.
[2] [R.H.—A man’s long, belted tunic.]