by Poe · Cluster: Terror and Horror · Madness
Abstract
A pseudo-scientific horror tale in which a dying man is mesmerized at the point of death and held suspended for months until his sudden, grotesque dissolution; themes of death, the uncanny, and bodily decay.
Testo / Text
Parti / Parts
Readability (prose)59.5 Flesch ease9.5 FK grade12.9 Fog14% complex18.3 words/sent
Connections
Motifs: Death, Decay, Sleeper Awakes (2) Themes & Concepts: Terror and Horror, Grotesque, Uncanny, Mesmerism Forms & Genres: Short Story
Testo integrale / Full text
Of course I shall not pretend to consider it any matter for wonder, that the extraordinary case of M. Valdemar has excited discussion. It would have been a miracle had it not—especially under the circumstances. Through the desire of all parties concerned, to keep the affair from the public, at least for the present, or until we had farther opportunities for investigation—through our endeavors to effect this—a garbled or exaggerated account made its way into society, and became the source of many unpleasant misrepresentations; and, very naturally, of a great deal of disbelief.
It is now rendered necessary that I give the facts—as far as I
comprehend them myself. They are, succinctly, these:
My attention, for the last three years, had been repeatedly drawn
to the subject of Mesmerism; and, about nine months ago it
occurred to me, quite suddenly, that in the series of experiments
made hitherto, there had been a very remarkable and most
unaccountable omission:—no person had as yet been mesmerized in
articulo mortis. It remained to be seen, first, whether, in such
condition, there existed in the patient any susceptibility to the
magnetic influence; secondly, whether, if any existed, it was
impaired or increased by the condition; thirdly, to what extent,
or for how long a period, the encroachments of Death might be
arrested by the process. There were other points to be
ascertained, but these most excited my curiosity—the last in
especial, from the immensely important character of its
consequences.
In looking around me for some subject by whose means I might test
these particulars, I was brought to think of my friend, M. Ernest
Valdemar, the well-known compiler of the “Bibliotheca Forensica,”
and author (under the nom de plume of Issachar Marx) of the
Polish versions of “Wallenstein” and “Gargantua.” M. Valdemar,
who has resided principally at Harlem, N.Y., since the year 1839,
is (or was) particularly noticeable for the extreme spareness of
his person—his lower limbs much resembling those of John
Randolph; and, also, for the whiteness of his whiskers, in
violent contrast to the blackness of his hair—the latter, in
consequence, being very generally mistaken for a wig. His
temperament was markedly nervous, and rendered him a good subject
for mesmeric experiment. On two or three occasions I had put him
to sleep with little difficulty, but was disappointed in other
results which his peculiar constitution had naturally led me to
anticipate. His will was at no period positively, or thoroughly,
under my control, and in regard to clairvoyance, I could
accomplish with him nothing to be relied upon. I always
attributed my failure at these points to the disordered state of
his health. For some months previous to my becoming acquainted
with him, his physicians had declared him in a confirmed
phthisis. It was his custom, indeed, to speak calmly of his
approaching dissolution, as of a matter neither to be avoided nor
regretted.
When the ideas to which I have alluded first occurred to me, it
was of course very natural that I should think of M. Valdemar. I
knew the steady philosophy of the man too well to apprehend any
scruples from him; and he had no relatives in America who would
be likely to interfere. I spoke to him frankly upon the subject;
and, to my surprise, his interest seemed vividly excited. I say
to my surprise, for, although he had always yielded his person
freely to my experiments, he had never before given me any tokens
of sympathy with what I did. His disease was of that character
which would admit of exact calculation in respect to the epoch of
its termination in death; and it was finally arranged between us
that he would send for me about twenty-four hours before the
period announced by his physicians as that of his decease.
It is now rather more than seven months since I received, from M.
Valdemar himself, the subjoined note:
MY DEAR P——,
You may as well come now. D—— and F—— are agreed that I cannot
hold out beyond to-morrow midnight; and I think they have hit the
time very nearly.
VALDEMAR
I received this note within half an hour after it was written,
and in fifteen minutes more I was in the dying man’s chamber. I
had not seen him for ten days, and was appalled by the fearful
alteration which the brief interval had wrought in him. His face
wore a leaden hue; the eyes were utterly lustreless; and the
emaciation was so extreme that the skin had been broken through
by the cheek-bones. His expectoration was excessive. The pulse
was barely perceptible. He retained, nevertheless, in a very
remarkable manner, both his mental power and a certain degree of
physical strength. He spoke with distinctness—took some
palliative medicines without aid—and, when I entered the room,
was occupied in penciling memoranda in a pocket-book. He was
propped up in the bed by pillows. Doctors D—— and F—— were in
attendance.
After pressing Valdemar’s hand, I took these gentlemen aside, and
obtained from them a minute account of the patient’s condition.
The left lung had been for eighteen months in a semi-osseous or
cartilaginous state, and was, of course, entirely useless for all
purposes of vitality. The right, in its upper portion, was also
partially, if not thoroughly, ossified, while the lower region
was merely a mass of purulent tubercles, running one into
another. Several extensive perforations existed; and, at one
point, permanent adhesion to the ribs had taken place. These
appearances in the right lobe were of comparatively recent date.
The ossification had proceeded with very unusual rapidity; no
sign of it had been discovered a month before, and the adhesion
had only been observed during the three previous days.
Independently of the phthisis, the patient was suspected of
aneurism of the aorta; but on this point the osseous symptoms
rendered an exact diagnosis impossible. It was the opinion of
both physicians that M. Valdemar would die about midnight on the
morrow (Sunday). It was then seven o’clock on Saturday evening.
On quitting the invalid’s bed-side to hold conversation with
myself, Doctors D—— and F—— had bidden him a final farewell. It
had not been their intention to return; but, at my request, they
agreed to look in upon the patient about ten the next night.
When they had gone, I spoke freely with M. Valdemar on the
subject of his approaching dissolution, as well as, more
particularly, of the experiment proposed. He still professed
himself quite willing and even anxious to have it made, and urged
me to commence it at once. A male and a female nurse were in
attendance; but I did not feel myself altogether at liberty to
engage in a task of this character with no more reliable
witnesses than these people, in case of sudden accident, might
prove. I therefore postponed operations until about eight the
next night, when the arrival of a medical student with whom I had
some acquaintance, (Mr. Theodore L—l,) relieved me from farther
embarrassment. It had been my design, originally, to wait for the
physicians; but I was induced to proceed, first, by the urgent
entreaties of M. Valdemar, and secondly, by my conviction that I
had not a moment to lose, as he was evidently sinking fast.
Mr. L—l was so kind as to accede to my desire that he would take
notes of all that occurred, and it is from his memoranda that
what I now have to relate is, for the most part, either condensed
or copied verbatim.
It wanted about five minutes of eight when, taking the patient’s
hand, I begged him to state, as distinctly as he could, to Mr.
L—l, whether he (M. Valdemar) was entirely willing that I should
make the experiment of mesmerizing him in his then condition.
He replied feebly, yet quite audibly, “Yes, I wish to be. I fear
you have mesmerized”—adding immediately afterwards: “I fear you
have deferred it too long.”
While he spoke thus, I commenced the passes which I had already
found most effectual in subduing him. He was evidently influenced
with the first lateral stroke of my hand across his forehead; but
although I exerted all my powers, no further perceptible effect
was induced until some minutes after ten o’clock, when Doctors
D—— and F—— called, according to appointment. I explained to
them, in a few words, what I designed, and as they opposed no
objection, saying that the patient was already in the death
agony, I proceeded without hesitation—exchanging, however, the
lateral passes for downward ones, and directing my gaze entirely
into the right eye of the sufferer.
By this time his pulse was imperceptible and his breathing was
stertorous, and at intervals of half a minute.
This condition was nearly unaltered for a quarter of an hour. At
the expiration of this period, however, a natural although a very
deep sigh escaped the bosom of the dying man, and the stertorous
breathing ceased—that is to say, its stertorousness was no longer
apparent; the intervals were undiminished. The patient’s
extremities were of an icy coldness.
At five minutes before eleven I perceived unequivocal signs of
the mesmeric influence. The glassy roll of the eye was changed
for that expression of uneasy inward examination which is never
seen except in cases of sleep-waking, and which it is quite
impossible to mistake. With a few rapid lateral passes I made the
lids quiver, as in incipient sleep, and with a few more I closed
them altogether. I was not satisfied, however, with this, but
continued the manipulations vigorously, and with the fullest
exertion of the will, until I had completely stiffened the limbs
of the slumberer, after placing them in a seemingly easy
position. The legs were at full length; the arms were nearly so,
and reposed on the bed at a moderate distance from the loin. The
head was very slightly elevated.
When I had accomplished this, it was fully midnight, and I
requested the gentlemen present to examine M. Valdemar’s
condition. After a few experiments, they admitted him to be an
unusually perfect state of mesmeric trance. The curiosity of both
the physicians was greatly excited. Dr. D—— resolved at once to
remain with the patient all night, while Dr. F—— took leave with
a promise to return at daybreak. Mr. L—l and the nurses remained.
We left M. Valdemar entirely undisturbed until about three
o’clock in the morning, when I approached him and found him in
precisely the same condition as when Dr. F—— went away—that is to
say, he lay in the same position; the pulse was imperceptible;
the breathing was gentle (scarcely noticeable, unless through the
application of a mirror to the lips); the eyes were closed
naturally; and the limbs were as rigid and as cold as marble.
Still, the general appearance was certainly not that of death.
As I approached M. Valdemar I made a kind of half effort to
influence his right arm into pursuit of my own, as I passed the
latter gently to and fro above his person. In such experiments
with this patient, I had never perfectly succeeded before, and
assuredly I had little thought of succeeding now; but to my
astonishment, his arm very readily, although feebly, followed
every direction I assigned it with mine. I determined to hazard a
few words of conversation.
“M. Valdemar,” I said, “are you asleep?” He made no answer, but I
perceived a tremor about the lips, and was thus induced to repeat
the question, again and again. At its third repetition, his whole
frame was agitated by a very slight shivering; the eyelids
unclosed themselves so far as to display a white line of the
ball; the lips moved sluggishly, and from between them, in a
barely audible whisper, issued the words:
“Yes;—asleep now. Do not wake me!—let me die so!”
I here felt the limbs and found them as rigid as ever. The right
arm, as before, obeyed the direction of my hand. I questioned the
sleep-waker again:
“Do you still feel pain in the breast, M. Valdemar?”
The answer now was immediate, but even less audible than before:
“No pain—I am dying.”
I did not think it advisable to disturb him farther just then,
and nothing more was said or done until the arrival of Dr. F——,
who came a little before sunrise, and expressed unbounded
astonishment at finding the patient still alive. After feeling
the pulse and applying a mirror to the lips, he requested me to
speak to the sleep-waker again. I did so, saying:
“M. Valdemar, do you still sleep?”
As before, some minutes elapsed ere a reply was made; and during
the interval the dying man seemed to be collecting his energies
to speak. At my fourth repetition of the question, he said very
faintly, almost inaudibly:
“Yes; still asleep—dying.”
It was now the opinion, or rather the wish, of the physicians,
that M. Valdemar should be suffered to remain undisturbed in his
present apparently tranquil condition, until death should
supervene—and this, it was generally agreed, must now take place
within a few minutes. I concluded, however, to speak to him once
more, and merely repeated my previous question.
While I spoke, there came a marked change over the countenance of
the sleep-waker. The eyes rolled themselves slowly open, the
pupils disappearing upwardly; the skin generally assumed a
cadaverous hue, resembling not so much parchment as white paper;
and the circular hectic spots which, hitherto, had been strongly
defined in the centre of each cheek, went out at once. I use this
expression, because the suddenness of their departure put me in
mind of nothing so much as the extinguishment of a candle by a
puff of the breath. The upper lip, at the same time, writhed
itself away from the teeth, which it had previously covered
completely; while the lower jaw fell with an audible jerk,
leaving the mouth widely extended, and disclosing in full view
the swollen and blackened tongue. I presume that no member of the
party then present had been unaccustomed to death-bed horrors;
but so hideous beyond conception was the appearance of M.
Valdemar at this moment, that there was a general shrinking back
from the region of the bed.
I now feel that I have reached a point of this narrative at which
every reader will be startled into positive disbelief. It is my
business, however, simply to proceed.
There was no longer the faintest sign of vitality in M. Valdemar;
and concluding him to be dead, we were consigning him to the
charge of the nurses, when a strong vibratory motion was
observable in the tongue. This continued for perhaps a minute. At
the expiration of this period, there issued from the distended
and motionless jaws a voice—such as it would be madness in me to
attempt describing. There are, indeed, two or three epithets
which might be considered as applicable to it in part; I might
say, for example, that the sound was harsh, and broken and
hollow; but the hideous whole is indescribable, for the simple
reason that no similar sounds have ever jarred upon the ear of
humanity. There were two particulars, nevertheless, which I
thought then, and still think, might fairly be stated as
characteristic of the intonation—as well adapted to convey some
idea of its unearthly peculiarity. In the first place, the voice
seemed to reach our ears—at least mine—from a vast distance, or
from some deep cavern within the earth. In the second place, it
impressed me (I fear, indeed, that it will be impossible to make
myself comprehended) as gelatinous or glutinous matters impress
the sense of touch.
I have spoken both of “sound” and of “voice.” I mean to say that
the sound was one of distinct—of even wonderfully, thrillingly
distinct—syllabification. M. Valdemar spoke—obviously in reply to
the question I had propounded to him a few minutes before. I had
asked him, it will be remembered, if he still slept. He now said:
“Yes;—no;—I have been sleeping—and now—now—I am dead.”
No person present even affected to deny, or attempted to repress,
the unutterable, shuddering horror which these few words, thus
uttered, were so well calculated to convey. Mr. L—l (the student)
swooned. The nurses immediately left the chamber, and could not
be induced to return. My own impressions I would not pretend to
render intelligible to the reader. For nearly an hour, we busied
ourselves, silently—without the utterance of a word—in endeavors
to revive Mr. L—l. When he came to himself, we addressed
ourselves again to an investigation of M. Valdemar’s condition.
It remained in all respects as I have last described it, with the
exception that the mirror no longer afforded evidence of
respiration. An attempt to draw blood from the arm failed. I
should mention, too, that this limb was no farther subject to my
will. I endeavored in vain to make it follow the direction of my
hand. The only real indication, indeed, of the mesmeric
influence, was now found in the vibratory movement of the tongue,
whenever I addressed M. Valdemar a question. He seemed to be
making an effort to reply, but had no longer sufficient volition.
To queries put to him by any other person than myself he seemed
utterly insensible—although I endeavored to place each member of
the company in mesmeric rapport with him. I believe that I have
now related all that is necessary to an understanding of the
sleep-waker’s state at this epoch. Other nurses were procured;
and at ten o’clock I left the house in company with the two
physicians and Mr. L—l.
In the afternoon we all called again to see the patient. His
condition remained precisely the same. We had now some discussion
as to the propriety and feasibility of awakening him; but we had
little difficulty in agreeing that no good purpose would be
served by so doing. It was evident that, so far, death (or what
is usually termed death) had been arrested by the mesmeric
process. It seemed clear to us all that to awaken M. Valdemar
would be merely to insure his instant, or at least his speedy,
dissolution.
From this period until the close of last week—an interval of
nearly seven months—we continued to make daily calls at M.
Valdemar’s house, accompanied, now and then, by medical and other
friends. All this time the sleeper-waker remained _exactly_ as I
have last described him. The nurses’ attentions were continual.
It was on Friday last that we finally resolved to make the
experiment of awakening, or attempting to awaken him; and it is
the (perhaps) unfortunate result of this latter experiment which
has given rise to so much discussion in private circles—to so
much of what I cannot help thinking unwarranted popular feeling.
For the purpose of relieving M. Valdemar from the mesmeric
trance, I made use of the customary passes. These, for a time,
were unsuccessful. The first indication of revival was afforded
by a partial descent of the iris. It was observed, as especially
remarkable, that this lowering of the pupil was accompanied by
the profuse out-flowing of a yellowish ichor (from beneath the
lids) of a pungent and highly offensive odor.
It was now suggested that I should attempt to influence the
patient’s arm, as heretofore. I made the attempt and failed. Dr.
F—— then intimated a desire to have me put a question. I did so,
as follows:
“M. Valdemar, can you explain to us what are your feelings or
wishes now?”
There was an instant return of the hectic circles on the cheeks;
the tongue quivered, or rather rolled violently in the mouth
(although the jaws and lips remained rigid as before), and at
length the same hideous voice which I have already described,
broke forth:
“For God’s sake!—quick!—quick!—put me to sleep—or, quick!—waken
me!—quick!—I say to you that I am dead!”
I was thoroughly unnerved, and for an instant remained undecided
what to do. At first I made an endeavor to recompose the patient;
but, failing in this through total abeyance of the will, I
retraced my steps and as earnestly struggled to awaken him. In
this attempt I soon saw that I should be successful—or at least I
soon fancied that my success would be complete—and I am sure that
all in the room were prepared to see the patient awaken.
For what really occurred, however, it is quite impossible that
any human being could have been prepared.
As I rapidly made the mesmeric passes, amid ejaculations of
“dead! dead!” absolutely bursting from the tongue and not from
the lips of the sufferer, his whole frame at once—within the
space of a single minute, or even less,
shrunk—crumbled—absolutely rotted away beneath my hands. Upon the
bed, before that whole company, there lay a nearly liquid mass of
loathsome—of detestable putrescence.