Do the Dead Return? A True Story of Startling Seances in San Francisco

In Short

This book presents a series of firsthand reports regarding the "daylight seances" of Dr. Louis Schlesinger, a self-proclaimed Spiritualist medium who operated in San Francisco during the 1890s. The narrative documents how a group of prominent city officials, lawyers, and journalists—all avowed non-believers—attempted to expose the medium as a fraud, only to find themselves baffled by his ability to identify names and secrets from sealed, shuffled slips of paper. It survives as a curious historical artifact of late-Victorian psychic obsession and the era’s fascination with the blurred lines between science, magic, and the supernatural.

The Story

The narrative begins in 1891, when the author, then a newspaper manager in Modesto, encounters Dr. Louis Schlesinger, an elderly, deaf, and somewhat disheveled man claiming the power to commune with spirits. Initially dismissing the man as a harmless eccentric—or perhaps an escapee from a local asylum—the author and his associate, Senator J. D. Spencer, subject the medium to a private test. Using sealed paper pellets containing names known only to themselves, they are stunned when Schlesinger identifies specific relatives and provides accurate, intimate biographical details that he could not have possibly known.

Years later, in 1893, the author is working for the San Francisco Daily Examiner and arranges a more formal series of experiments to put the medium’s claims to the test under rigorous, daylight conditions. The goal is to produce a "Sunday special" feature for the newspaper. He enlists the participation of San Francisco’s most respected and wary citizens: Mayor Levi R. Ellert, Chief of Police Patrick Crowley, District Attorney W. S. Barnes, and several noted attorneys and physicians. These men arrive at the Mayor’s office and police headquarters with a clear objective: to expose the medium’s parlor tricks and sleight-of-hand.

The experiment proceeds with elaborate precautions. The participants write the names of the living and the dead on slips of paper in rooms apart from the medium, fold them tightly, and shuffle them in hats. Despite these safeguards, Dr. Schlesinger consistently identifies the names, accurately distinguishes between the living and the dead without opening the pellets, and relays messages that the participants insist are private and unknown to anyone else in the city.

As the seances progress, the tone of the participants shifts from mockery to profound, unsettling confusion. Chief Crowley, who boasts of a long career trapping "bunko-men," finds his skepticism shaken when the medium reveals the maiden name of his mother and details regarding a deceased detective. District Attorney Barnes and Judge Robert Ferral, both men of high legal standing and analytical minds, offer their own written testimonies, admitting that while they refuse to embrace Spiritualism, they cannot provide a rational explanation for what they witnessed. The narrative concludes with a detailed breakdown of the participants' characters, emphasizing their reputations for integrity and their continued bewilderment years after the events. The author frames these accounts not as a call to religious conversion, but as a genuine, unresolved challenge to contemporary understanding.

How It Unfolds

The chance encounter The author and a colleague test the medium in Modesto, expecting to confirm his insanity but finding themselves startled by accurate revelations about their own families. This initial success convinces the author that there is a phenomenon here worth documenting for the public record.

The newspaper investigation The author secures the backing of the Examiner editors to arrange high-profile seances at the Mayor's office and police headquarters. The editors participate in preliminary sittings to ensure that the medium is not a "bungling master of the black art" before inviting public figures.

The daylight trials Prominent citizens, including the Mayor and the Chief of Police, gather in broad daylight to conduct tests under their own specific conditions. They use their own paper, write their own lists, and shuffle the pellets themselves to eliminate the possibility of collusion or mechanical tricks.

The unraveling of skepticism The medium successfully reads the contents of the sealed pellets, even when the participants themselves have forgotten or do not know which name is on a specific slip. The witnesses are forced to acknowledge the accuracy of the medium’s claims, though they struggle to reconcile these facts with their secular, rationalist worldviews.

The aftermath of doubt The book concludes with formal, signed statements from the participants, who remain unable to offer a scientific explanation. They present their accounts as honest, bewildered testimonials, leaving the reader to decide whether they have witnessed psychic forces or simply an impenetrable form of trickery.

The People

Dr. Louis Schlesinger is the central, enigmatic figure—a man described as elderly, near-sighted, and deaf, who presents himself as a vessel for celestial voices. He remains a cipher throughout the book, as he never explicitly explains his methods, leaving the observers to project their own theories of magnetism, mind-reading, or spirits upon him.

The investigators, including Chief of Police Patrick Crowley and District Attorney William S. Barnes, serve as the primary obstacles to the medium's credibility. As men whose careers are built on the exposure of crime and the demand for empirical evidence, they act as the "control group." Their desire to catch the medium in a lie is fueled by their professional pride; yet, they end the narrative in a state of intellectual defeat. They do not necessarily become believers in the afterlife, but they are stripped of their ability to dismiss the medium as a common con artist. They emerge from the experience not as converts, but as puzzled witnesses who have been forced to admit that their own skepticism is, for once, insufficient.

In Its Own Voice

"The medium said: 'That is the name of Thaddeus Stevens, who knew you well. He calls you Alexander, and sends you his love.'"

Managing Editor A. B. Henderson recalls the moment the medium identified a specific, well-known name from a bundle of sealed, unknown slips.

"He read things that were not in my mind, telling me my mother's maiden name and where she died."

Chief of Police Patrick Crowley explains why he cannot dismiss the performance as simple mind-reading.

"He was an eminent person, and he died far away from here. He is waving a flag over your head, and on it is written the name of Victor Hugo."

Theodore F. Bonnet recounts the medium's specific, successful identification of a name on a pellet he had not yet examined.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an exploration of the fragility of the rationalist mind when confronted with the inexplicable. It documents a tension between the rigid, evidence-based world of 1890s law and journalism and the persistent human desire for evidence of an afterlife. The book does not argue that ghosts exist; rather, it argues that the limits of human knowledge are narrower than we assume. It presents the "seance" as a laboratory, testing whether the truth of a person’s life can survive after their death. By anchoring the narrative in the testimonies of respected, skeptical men, the book suggests that the most profound challenges to our worldview are those that we cannot solve, but also cannot ignore.

Why Read It Today

Readers with an interest in the history of science, spiritualism, or late-19th-century San Francisco will find this a fascinating, if occasionally repetitive, read. It offers a rare glimpse into the "parlor culture" of the era, where the boundary between entertainment and serious inquiry was remarkably thin.

The reading experience is idiosyncratic; the book reflects the earnest, slightly breathless tone of Victorian investigative journalism, complete with lists of participant credentials and a defensive insistence on the "literal truth" of the accounts. Modern readers may find the reliance on long, verbatim reports from various officials to be somewhat exhaustive, and the period-specific attitudes toward "Hebraic features" or the nature of the medium's "deafness" are clearly products of their time. However, the book succeeds as a time capsule. It captures the specific, palpable anxiety of men who are terrified of appearing foolish yet are confronted with something they cannot explain away. You will likely walk away not with a belief in the supernatural, but with a lingering, uncomfortable respect for the power of a mystery that defies the tools of logic. It is a humble, curious document that serves as a reminder that the most interesting stories are often those that refuse to provide a tidy ending.