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to Preternature: Critical and Historical Studies on the Preternatural
Indu Ohri
abstract
This article examines how women writers critique the problems with Victorian gender roles
through their representation of the inequality between male psychical researchers and female
occult investigators in their fin-de-siècle ghost stories. In contrast to male psychical researchers,
who adopt a rational outlook and demand proof of the supernatural’s existence, female occult
investigators practice different forms of occultism to achieve self-empowerment and to show
compassion for others, especially ghosts. Moreover, female occult investigators embody the
tension between the conflicting images of the conservative Victorian Angel and independent
New Woman. Building on the work of Schaper (2001), I consider the portrayal of these male
and female character types in Lanoe Falconer’s “Cecilia de Noël,” Lettice Galbraith’s “In the
Séance Room,” and Nora Tynan O’Mahony's “Hester’s Ghost.” Ultimately, I find that these
women writers unite the distinct fields of science, religion, and occultism by combining the
male and female characters to form the New Woman doctor.
keywords
ghost stories, gender roles, Victorian Angel, New Woman, psychical researchers, women
writers
The pioneering British women who practiced nursing and medicine were often
deeply inspired by their spiritual beliefs and fought to make these professions
respectable for bourgeois ladies. During the fin de siècle, several examples of Vic-
torian female physicians fascinated with the supernatural may have influenced
the female occult investigator’s characterization as well as her transition into
the New Woman doctor. While female doctors interested in Spiritualism first
began working in America during the 1850s, these figures arose later in England
because women could not practice medicine there until 1877. We can see the
precursors for female physicians studying the occult in the form of venerated
Kingsford became a leading Christian mystic who warned humanity about the
evils of v ivisection and eating meat, led the Theosophical Society as its presi-
dent (1883–1884), and founded the Hermetic Society (1884). Despard famously
portrayed h erself as a psychical researcher in her case study on the mysterious
woman in black haunting her home. These female physicians characterize them-
selves as powerful authorities on occult matters and scientific advancement.
They crafted an image of women as superior moral guides with occult powers
who drew their authority from their unique synthesis of religious, scientific, and
occult philosophies. This characterization represents a major shift in w omen’s
historical roles and may have influenced the ethereality of the female occult
investigator, whose compassionate view toward others should inspire female
readers to take action. Diana Basham (1992: 58–59, 70) claims that Nightingale
and Kingsford were both Christian mystics who mixed female prophetic dis-
course with the latest scientific advances in speaking up on behalf of women’s
rights. To use Nightingale’s phrasing, the female occult investigator is the John
the Baptist who prepares the way for the female Christ embodied by the New
Woman doctor. My discussion of “Cecilia de Noël” will foreground that while
a role model does not have to be realistic, her saintliness limits real women’s
ability to emulate her and makes her more of an aspirational figure.
Falconer and Galbraith’s ghost stories represent the complex terrain of late
Victorian occultism and the diversity of its beliefs, practices, and movements,
while clearly preferring one approach above all. In this article, the word “occult”
is a blanket term that refers to many different customs and worldviews among
the Victorians. I have employed it in a generalized sense because even though
Cecilia, Elma, and Hester handle ghosts similarly, they are associated with
different forms of the occult, such as Christianity, Spiritualism, and compas-
sionate rationality. Although the narratives illustrate many spiritual perspec-
tives, the favored one is enacted by the female occult investigator. The two female
occult investigators I consider both inspect the supernatural, but they diverge
in their respective focus on Christian spirituality or Spiritualist mediumship.
At the same time that female occult investigators model a certain set of
spiritual beliefs, they must be carefully distinguished from frauds and predators
through scientific assessment. In Falconer and Galbraith’s ghost stories, male
psychical researchers play the role of the skeptics responsible for testing the
female mediums’ powers. Despite women’s increasing role in the sciences, they
were shut out of many professional positions in a field still dominated by men.
Hence, Atherley and Burke serve as the psychical researchers who test m ediums
like Cecilia and Madame Delphine to verify their powers. A common objection
to occult movements lay in the view that the practitioners and leaders were
charlatans who preyed on people’s grief, desperation, and curiosity. Ruth Bran-
don explains in her account that occult practitioners were mistrusted from
the time that the Fox sisters launched the Spiritualist movement in 1848. In
particular, female mediums were often accused of lying, alcoholism, and sexual
promiscuity, which sets them apart from the refined heroines of these ghost
stories. Brandon (1983: 239) writes that Spiritualist mediums won more of a
popular following than occult leaders such as Madame Blavatsky (the founder
of theosophy), seeing that these “mere wonder-workers, in their various ways,
provided a clean sheet upon which interested persons could describe their own
personal systems and arabesques.” Female occult investigators make an appeal-
ing alternative to mediums because they lay out spiritual philosophies without
resorting to fraud, and readers looking for guidance can follow these principles.
In line with the idealized images of Nightingale, Kingsford, and Despard, these
characters are “made of such uncommon stuff ” as a high degree of love, accept-
ance, and compassion. Since real Victorian women struggled to enter medicine
and the sciences, the idealized portrayals of female occult investigators are
necessary to garner sympathy for them and their cause.
The women writers analyzed here critique the problems with traditional
Victorian gender roles through their depiction of the inequality between
rational male psychical researchers and female occult investigators. Their ghost
stories offer a twist on the idea that the male characters’ rationality or their
bourgeois status makes them superior to women who practice the supernatural.
Instead, these men eagerly dispense with their souls—their feminine qualities
of kindness, compassion, and humanity—in a Faustian exchange for posses-
sion of a rigorous scientific perspective. The psychical researchers renounce
their humanity in the hope of acquiring money, fame, or power, only to suf-
fer disappointment when they misuse their knowledge for selfish objectives.
They construct a flawed masculinity based exclusively on reason that ends up
working against them, since their skepticism leads to them being humbled or
destroyed by supernatural forces. The female occult investigator differs from
the male psychical researcher on account of her compassion, which draws her
to the supernatural as a means for self-empowerment and a way of sustaining
close relationships. What emerges is a dichotomous rivalry between men, inca-
pable of human love, sympathy, and companionship, and women who, without
abandoning reason, logic, or consistency, make good use of empathetic qualities
to foster social bonds. Female occult investigators ultimately succeed over their
opponents through their use of a unique feminine perception that is not s imply
It is a curious thing that in the dark ages the devil was always appearing to
somebody. He doesn’t make himself so cheap now. He has evidently more
to do; but there is a fashion in ghosts as in other things, and that reminds
me our ghost, from all we hear of it, is decidedly rococo. If you study the
reports of societies that hunt the supernatural, you will find that the latest
thing in ghosts is very quiet and commonplace. (Falconer 2010: 422–23)
few days repeated: witness after witness rose and gave his varying testimony;
and when, before the discord and irony of it all, I bitterly repeated Pilate’s ques-
tion, the smile on [ Jesus’s] dead face would rise before me, and then I hoped
again” (Falconer 2010: 428). The “varying testimony” of each witness causes
Lyndsay to ask “What is truth?,” given that the discrepancies make him uncer-
tain about whether the ghost exists and which creed he should adopt.
Cecilia gives the desperate Lyndsay hope because she shows him the
compassion Atherley lacks and offers him a gospel that embraces e veryone;
however, her angelic status arises from her virtues, not her position as a
Victorian Angel. When they first meet, Lyndsay remarks, “I saw her, as I
often see her now in dreams . . . like a new Madonna, holding the child of
poverty to her heart, pressing her cheek against its tiny head with a gesture
whose exquisite tenderness, for at least that fleeting instant, seemed to bridge
across the gulf which still yawns between Dives and Lazarus” (Falconer 2010:
435). Lyndsay’s view of her as a “new Madonna” gestures at how Cecilia’s grief
over losing her son teaches her to sympathize with the suffering of others. The
wealthy Cecilia’s concern for the destitute woman’s baby highlights how she
crosses the huge gap between rich (Dives) and poor (Lazarus) through her
benevolence. However, Falconer is careful to differentiate the angelic Cecilia
from the Victorian Angel, since she derives her spiritual authority from her
compassion and inner c haracter, rather than her success as a housewife. While
Cecilia exhibits the Victorian Angel’s sympathy, she otherwise fails at this role:
she is a terrible housekeeper, her husband is always away, and her child is dead.
As she remarks, “[t]he fact is, James [Cecilia’s husband] spoils me so when he is
at home. He remembers everything for me, and when I do forget anything he
never scolds me” (Falconer 2010: 438). Like Virginia Woolf ’s Orlando, Cecilia
cleverly m
arries a sailor whose frequent absences and respect for her autonomy
enable her to stay i ndependent.
The other-centered focus of Cecilia’s gospel demonstrates that since the
occult has helped to liberate these female characters, they should return the
favor and act on their compassion to alleviate people’s sufferings. Cecilia’s
situation exemplifies how the supernatural places these female occult investi-
gators into more autonomous situations from which they can exercise their
kindness to serve the less fortunate. Given that she has no use for the occult to
release her from oppression, Cecilia performs unpaid volunteer work like the
Victorian Angel, even though her qualities would make her an excellent New
Woman doctor. She constantly keeps “chronic invalids” (Falconer 2010, 364)
in her home as though it were a doctor’s office, and cares for “patients” that
the medical community and Victorian society deem unfit. After she sees the
ghost, the frightened Mrs. Molyneux orders Atherley to send for Cecilia rather
than a physician, telling Lyndsay, “[a] great London doctor said to me once,
‘Remember, nothing is shocking or disgusting to a doctor.’ That is like Cecilia.
No suffering could ever be disgusting or shocking to Cecilia, nor ridiculous,
nor grotesque” (Falconer 2010, 434). Falconer’s identification of this passage as
key to Cecilia’s character suggests her heroine could be a New Woman doctor
because her bravery is a consequence of her desire to help the sick.12 There is
a tension between whether Cecilia’s healing constitutes the Victorian Angel’s
volunteer work or the New Woman doctor’s paid work. Falconer presents her
heroine as a powerful female occult investigator to compromise between these
conflicting angels of Victorian womanhood. In this capacity, Cecilia is delib-
erately invited to solve the haunting, telepathically summons the ghost, and
endangers her life to cleanse the home. Instead of dismissing Cecilia like he
does the other witnesses, Atherley recognizes her occult powers when he posi-
tions himself as an SPR investigator interviewing a female “medium”: “I am
up to a delicate psychical investigation which requires the greatest care. The
medium is made of such uncommon stuff; she has not a particle of brass in
her composition. So she requires to be carefully isolated from all disturbing
influences” (Falconer 2010: 442). Atherley takes the unusual step of question-
ing Cecilia himself, seeing that she is “made of such uncommon stuff ” that he
suspects she may have truly observed the ghost.
In the final chapter, “Cecilia’s Gospel,” Cecilia draws on her grief as a bereaved
mother to add a distinctive element to the female occult investigator’s compas-
sion, using the powers she gains through divine maternal love to redeem the
damned Faustian soul. Atherley, Lyndsay, and Cecilia all treat those in need
with compassion, but Cecilia goes further in building her entire gospel around
serving others. Since Atherley supports rationality and (outwardly) eschews
“pity, mercy, [and] love,” the ghost never appeals to him for help because his
logical explanations do not allow for the supernatural’s existence. Cecilia is the
only one of the witnesses who unquestionably accepts that the ghost is real and
overcomes her fear to assist him. After she comforts Mrs. Molyneux, Cecilia
summons the ghost by praying to a God she characterizes as feminine and
maternal, feeling “part of that wonderful great Love above us, about us, every-
where, clasping us all so tenderly and safely” (Falconer 2010: 443–44). Learning
that the ghost’s wicked deeds have isolated him from others, Cecilia assumes the
role of the “angel” and risks losing the game of chess to redeem him:
And I said: “Why did you not turn for help to God?”
Then it gave a terrible answer: it said, “What is God?”
And when I heard these words there came over me a wild kind of pity,
such as I used to feel when I saw my little child struggling for breath when
he was ill, and I held out my arms to this poor lonely thing, but it shrank
back, crying “Speak to me, but do not touch me, brave human creature.
I am all death, and if you come too near me the Death in me may kill the
life in you.”
But I said: “No Death can kill the life in me, even though it kill my
body. Dear fellow-spirit, I cannot tell you what I know; but let me take
you in my arms; rest for an instant on my heart, and perhaps I may make
you feel what I feel all around us.” (Falconer 2010: 446)
By asking Cecilia “What is God?,” the ghost stands for the many late Victorian
readers undergoing a loss of faith, and Cecilia is the female Christ whose will-
ingness to sacrifice herself to redeem the ghost’s sins illustrates God’s divine
love for everyone. Cecilia’s instinct to relate the ghost’s question to her dying
child informs us that her loss triggered a religious crisis, which ended with her
realization that “God” embodies love for the unfortunate. While she could not
save her son, Cecilia’s maternal “pity” for her “fellow-spirit” is strong enough to
liberate the ghost and preserve her life.
Notwithstanding its optimistic tone, Cecilia’s gospel fails to propose a prac-
tical way that the Victorian women reading Falconer’s ghost story could save
declining religious faith or combat rational science. In an echo of Nightingale,
Falconer is especially bold in claiming that Cecilia would redeem her readers
as a female Christ who earns their admiration through her sacred q ualities.
The problem with Cecilia’s Christlike depiction is that it etherealizes her to the
point where she no longer serves as a realistic role model; at best, her “gospel”
suggests a standard to which real women should aspire. However, her kind
engagement with others provided hope in the face of the growing rational-
ity and atheism that failed to satisfy the late Victorians’ spiritual yearnings.
Although “Cecilia de Noël” has fallen into obscurity today, it was a bestseller in
1891 that captured people’s anxieties about the rise of scientific materialism and
religious doubt. As a female prophet, Cecilia’s spiritual authority is reinforced
through comparisons with religious figures such as Christ, Mary Magdalene,
and the Madonna. Falconer understood that her readers struggled not to yield
to despair or atheism, which is why she applies a Christian cast to her occult
philosophy. Janet Oppenheim (1985: 62, 152, 160) goes so far as to argue that
Spiritualism, p sychical research, and occultism constituted “surrogate faiths”
meant to fill a spiritual void and oppose scientific rationality. Knowing that
her readers’ religious doubts made them feel guilty and meaningless, Falconer
characterizes Cecilia as divine to make them heed her heroine’s call to action.
The fact that Cecilia’s crisis inspired her kindness toward others gestures at
how women must enact a similar change in their lives, rather than giving in to
disbelief or hopelessness.
p recludes him from reproducing the women’s impressive occult feats. Once
she unexpectedly appears, the “timid,” (Galbraith 2007: 191) “fainting,” (192) and
overly trustful Katharine acts dependent on the uncaring Burke, which leaves
her helpless against the mesmeric powers he uses to murder her. The alarmed
Burke realizes that the news of his relationship with Katharine will endan-
ger his marriage to Elma, though their “ruin” is gendered so he will lose his
career, Katharine her social reputation. Galbraith condemns the sexual dou-
ble standard when Burke justifies murder on the grounds that as a fallen, and
thus “impure” woman, Katharine has no worth due to being “a spoiled, ruined
thing” (Galbraith 2007: 193). Although Katharine shows daring and intelligence
in leaving her family to locate Burke, her belief that her value lies in playing
the role of a Victorian Angel and marrying him makes her vulnerable to abuse.
Burke’s employment of his powers in an unequal power struggle with Katharine
conveys the danger of a woman subsuming her identity, autonomy, and desires
to a man: “There was a long silence while their eyes met in that fixed stare—
his cold, steady, dominating, hers flinching and striving vainly to withstand the
power of his stronger will” (Galbraith 2007: 194). Galbraith reverses the double
standard in characterizing Burke as “fallen” for his evil deeds, while Katharine is
his innocent victim who unfairly incurs blame for being seduced. The narrator
radically states “[n]o living soul, save the ‘sensitive’ on whom he was experiment-
ing, heard those words, but they were registered by a higher power than that
of the criminal court, damning evidence to be produced one day against the
man who had prostituted his spiritual gift to mean and selfish ends” (Galbraith
2007: 194). Burke signifies a damned Faustian figure in the way he “prostitutes”
his occult powers to ensnare a rich wife, and his debased motives limit his ability
to wield the supernatural compared with the female characters.
Burke is particularly insidious as a male rationalist who pretends to believe
in the supernatural and flaunts his limited powers in order to become a lead-
ing member of the occult community. Elma grows disenchanted with Burke’s
cynical skepticism when she realizes that her husband is a duplicitous psychical
researcher and he abuses his masculine privilege to suppress women, including
her. After ordering Katharine to commit suicide, Burke loses his engagement
ring when he stages a scene in which he attempts to save her to make himself a
heroic figure in Elma’s eyes and to throw off suspicion. Four years later, Burke has
socially advanced as “an acknowledged leader of the new school of Philosophy,
an authority on psychic phenomena, and the idol of the ‘smart’ women who
played with the fashionable theories and talked glibly on subjects the very A
B C which was beyond their feeble comprehension” (Galbraith 2007: 196).
albraith
G criticizes these ironically named “smart” women for resembling
Mrs. Molyneux as frivolous Spiritualists, but she is more scornful of Burke’s
deceiving them with false occult teachings. Instead of becoming a psychical
investigator, Elma functions as Burke’s research assistant and “an admirable
wife, interesting herself in his studies, and assisting him materially in his literary
work” (Galbraith 2007: 196). Although Elma funds Burke’s research with her
money, she subordinates her interest in the occult to her husband’s as the perfect
Victorian Angel.
However, Elma becomes horrified when she realizes that she is complicit in
committing fraud along with her husband and perpetuating the deception that
they are searching for spiritual truth after he admits that he and others practice
deceit. In Galbraith’s story, the problem is not occultism so much as women’s
ignorance of this field, since they do not seriously study its “ABCs” the way Elma
does. The larger issue is that the flawed institutional structure of occult move-
ments allows predators like Burke to victimize young women and trick them
into thinking these swindlers are occult researchers. Elma feels estranged from
Burke due to his misogynistic contempt for women’s occult abilities: he relegates
his wife to a secondary role and tries to debunk a popular medium, Madame
Delphine. These marital tensions surface when Elma expresses her belief in the
medium’s powers, whereas Burke wants to verify she is a “ humbug”—just like
himself. When Elma asks, “Valentine . . . is there no truth in anything you say or
write? Do you believe in nothing?” he replies, “Certainly. I believe in matter and
myself, also that the many fools exist for the benefit of a minority with brains”
(Galbraith 2007: 197). As Burke’s devoted supporter and a believer in the super-
natural, Elma despairs that her husband is an arrogant materialist hypocritically
claiming Spiritualists are con artists when he dupes “many fools” through his
mesmeric abilities and manipulative charm. She finally realizes Burke has devel-
oped a cult of personality that permits him to lead people astray and subjugate
his female disciples, his wife, and women mediums.
While the emphasis on Christian spirituality is obvious in “Cecilia de Noël,”
it becomes submerged in favor of scientific proof and rational compassion in “In
the Séance Room” and “Hester’s Ghost.” Galbraith portrays the value in obtain-
ing proof of the supernatural’s existence even as she exposes the arrogance and
hypocrisy of psychical researchers who claim to exercise rationality in evaluating
the occult. The problem with psychical researchers such as Burke lies in their
default assumption that evidence will be absent or debunk the supernatural,
rather than confirming its reality. Galbraith’s story challenges this assumption
Burke’s engagement ring enables Katharine’s ghost to arrive with the key clue
that proves his crime as well as the occult:
The biblical allusion is particularly apt considering that like Saul, Burke hypo-
critically seeks to banish those who practice the occult while consulting a female
medium (the Witch of Endor) and dies through suicide the day after seeing the
ghost she summons. Despite her “horror” at observing Katharine’s ghost, Mad-
ame Delphine uses the apparition to manifest her underlying hostility toward
the skeptical psychical researcher who ties her up to confirm that she is not
impersonating the spirits she summons. Madame Delphine indirectly retaliates
against Burke through Katharine because the ghost accuses him of murder in
front of nineteen other witnesses, ruining his reputation, ending his marriage,
and causing his death.
Elma tries to redeem Burke through her love as a female occult investiga-
tor, but she transfers her compassion to Katharine when it becomes clear that
she cannot save her unrepentant husband. Besides taking revenge on Burke,
Madame Delphine and Katharine help Elma break free from his control after
they awaken her suspicions against him. Although Elma offers Burke for-
giveness in an attempt to overcome their estrangement, he rejects the oppor-
tunity to confess and thus chooses damnation. The Victorian Angel realizes
that she cannot redeem her husband if he refuses to listen, especially since
he views nothing as “sacred” except his disproven materialist beliefs. The next
morning, Burke notices that Elma has left him due to the absence of her “usual
feminine impedimenta” (Galbraith 2007: 202), symbolizing how she has given
I implored you to trust me. You put me off with a lie. Am I to blame if I
used against you a power which you yourself had taught me? In the last
four hours I have heard from your own lips the whole story of Katharine
Greaves. Every detail of that horrible tragedy you confessed unconsciously
in your sleep, and I who loved you—Heaven knows how dearly!—have
to endure the agony of knowing my husband a murderer, and that my
wretched fortune supplied the motive for the crime. Thank God that I
have no child to bear the curse of your sin, to inherit its father’s nature!
(Galbraith 2007: 202)
lover was. Elma’s compassion for Katharine’s “horrible tragedy” compels her to
abandon Burke for victimizing other women, which fulfills the ghost’s need for
revenge. In contrast to Katharine and Madame Delphine wielding the super-
natural to overcome their powerless situations, Elma’s talent for mesmerism is
just one of the many resources at her disposal, like her money, intelligence, and
education. Despite being a country physician’s daughter, Katharine never con-
siders working as a New Woman doctor, given that she comes from a parochial
town in which such a career for a woman would be unacceptable. After becom-
ing a ghostly revenger, Katharine still encounters limits because she must die
before she can use her powers, and she relies on her connection with a medium
to materialize. Madame Delphine’s constricted position as a female medium is
conveyed by the fact that she must be restrained during séances and expresses
fear of her own supernatural abilities. With the support of these women, Elma
arrives at a position where she can establish herself as a career woman and
utilize her resources to assist others.
In the end, Falconer and Galbraith find that the gender roles of the male
psychical researcher and the female occult investigator are inadequate for
different reasons, so women writers provide a solution—the New Woman
doctor. Nora Tynan O’Mahony’s “Hester’s Ghost” (1908) opens with a mod-
ernized take on the conventional Victorian scene of friends telling ghost
stories around a Christmas fire. Madge, Eileen, and Hester are part of the first
generation of New Women attending college and earning a living. The focus
on these “ bachelor girl friends” (O’Mahony 1908: 190) spending the holidays
together underscores how far female solidarity has displaced the heterosexual
marriages that appear in Falconer and Galbraith’s ghost stories. Female authors
understood the need for fictional New Women doctors to reconcile the con-
flict between their “femaleness” and professional ambitions if they were to lead
productive lives (Swenson 2005: 128). Hester resolves this tension because her
balance of male and female characteristics allows her to combine rationality
and sympathy successfully. O’Mahony describes how Hester wins professional
respect for her masculine practicality and competence, but these qualities are
offset by her f eminine kindness and compassion:
was grand!” or “Boys, it was enough to break your heart!” Yet beneath
this veneer of masculinity Hester was the sweetest, most modest, most
womanly woman you might meet in a day’s walk, all softness and kind-
ness, heart and soul, full of loving tenderness towards little children, the
old and the ailing, toward all helpless and suffering humanity. She had the
virtues of the opposite sex without any of its little faults and pettiness. No
one knew this better than these old companions of her schooldays, who
were wont to say of her “Hetty is good through and through.” (O’Mahony
1908: 191)
Hester is somewhat idealized in the way she can bridge both gendered worlds.
She displays a “veneer of masculinity” that she probably acquired while attend-
ing medical school with other male students. At the same time, Hester’s female
college friends perceive that she is a “womanly woman” whose concern for the
needy helps her to treat her patients. The fact that “Hester’s Ghost” was pub-
lished in an American magazine aimed at Irish immigrants and Hester’s “soft
Munster brogue” identifies her as an exemplary Irishwoman suggests p rogressive
gender roles are bound up with national pride.
Hester’s mingling of the best qualities of the male psychical researcher and
female occult investigator makes her the perfect candidate for dealing with the
supernatural. Her account of her ghostly encounter resembles an SPR case
study with a purposeless ghost, since her coworker, a storekeeper, kills himself
and then meets with a distant colleague for no apparent reason: “But his face
I could not see, for when I looked closer under the hard felt hat, there was no
face! Nothing but a great, gaping wound” (O’Mahony 1908: 192). The view of
the ghost’s face as a “great, gaping wound” signifies that he was an emotion-
ally d
amaged bachelor who committed a sin (suicide) and appears to Hester in
the hope she can “cure” him by taking mercy on his soul. When Madge tries to
rationalize her experience, Hester cites her dog Dandy’s fear as evidence of the
ghost’s presence: “But supposing that I did imagine it, how could you account for
the dog?” (O’Mahony 1908: 192). Since Hester does not need the supernatural
to assert her independence, she is so estranged from her occult powers that her
friends must advise her about helping the ghost. At Madge’s suggestion, Hester
decides to request that masses be said for his soul, remarking, “even though I’m
not a ‘papist’—may I not feel with you that it is a holy and beautiful practice to
pray for the dead?” (O’Mahony 1908: 192). Hester springs from the female occult
investigator, particularly Cecilia, because her prayers and compassion will send
a damned soul to heaven. She also demonstrates aspects of the male psychical
researcher in objectively judging her meeting with the ghost and using proof
to validate his existence. Instead of Hester and the storekeeper being a reenvi-
sioning of the Faustus-and-Helena pairing, Hester effectively unites science and
occultism in the single character of the New Woman doctor.
Atherley is correct when he calls the female occult investigator a “medium
made of such uncommon stuff ” because she blends the unlikely areas of
science, religion, and occultism through ghost-hunting. The unique e lements
in her characterization, such as her personal approach to the supernatural,
ambivalence toward the Victorian Angel/New Woman dichotomy, and grad-
ual p rogression into the career woman, separate her from the male occult
detective. As rationalists, Atherley and Burke refuse to accept Cecilia and
Elma’s reconciliation of these conflicting subjects or their advocacy of love
for others. However, in real life, “Cecilia de Noël” was so influential that male
psychical investigators imitated her in supporting a sympathetic outlook
toward ghosts.13
Falconer, Galbraith, and O’Mahony’s supernatural tales reflect a brief
period during the fin de siècle when religion, science, and occultism coexisted
as distinct yet harmonious disciplines. The women doctors and psychical
investigators who may have inspired the female occult investigator’s charac-
terization, such as Kingsford and Despard, participated in a short-lived but
exciting interdisciplinary field that turned obsolete as rational science came to
dominate English society. In these ghost stories, we can track how the female
occult investigator abandons the Victorian Angel’s role and becomes the New
Woman doctor. The advances in women’s career and educational prospects
finally allowed for the ideal union of Faustus and Helena to occur in Hester’s
character, since she exhibits the perfect balance of male and female qualities.
At the same time, a New Woman doctor like Hester becomes alienated from
religion and the occult because she occupies an independent situation and can
serve others in a professional capacity. While these female characters no longer
need the supernatural as they enter scientific positions once held exclusively by
men, their feminine compassion poses an important challenge to male ration-
ality’s cultural power.
n ot e s
1. Sheridan le Fanu’s Martin Hesselius (1869) and Dr. Abraham Van Helsing from Bram
Stoker’s Dracula (1897) represent important forerunners to Low and Bell. For more on the
occult detective’s history, features, and investigative methods, see Briggs 1977: 52–75; Ashley
1994; Roden 2006; Ascari 2007: 77–90; Smajic 2010: 181–99; Parlati 2011; and Crofton 2012:
29–39.
2. Scholars claim that the first female occult detective did not materialize until 1920, with
Ella Scrymsour’s Shiela Crerar. See Ashley 1994: 41–2 and Roden 2006: 214–15.
3. For modern scholars who analyze Nightingale’s spiritual beliefs and her position as a
Christian mystic, see Jensen 1998: 69–82 and Dossey 2010: 10–35.
4. Lanoe Falconer was the pen name of Mary Elizabeth Hawker (1848–1908), a mem-
ber of a well-to-do genteel family from Hampshire. As a single woman, she began writing
professionally in the 1880s to earn an independent income and protect her autonomy from
her controlling stepfather. In 1890, she became a literary sensation with the publication of
her novel Mademoiselle Ixe, particularly after it was endorsed by the Prime Minister, William
Gladstone. Her ghost story “Cecilia de Noël” (1891) and short story collection The Hotel
d’Angleterre (1891) were also bestsellers. Unfortunately, weak health and a mental breakdown
in 1894 cut Falconer’s promising literary career short. Despite her desire to write, Falconer
suffered from hopeless depression and a loss of inspiration, and she produced little work by
the time she died of consumption. For more on Falconer’s life and on the Victorian reception
of “Cecilia De Noël,” see Rowland 2010; also Stewart 2001: 118–23.
5. For more on Falconer’s critique of late Victorian religious and Spiritualist philoso-
phies, see Sutphin 2016.
6. Quoted in Rowland 2010: 193.
7. For more on the characterization of the male rationalist in Victorian women’s ghost
stories, see Frye 1998.
8. This Faustian metaphor originally appears in “A Liberal Education; and Where to Find
It.” See Huxley 1997: 209.
9. See Klages 1999: 6–7; also Holmes 2004: 29.
10. For instance, see the account of the Morton ghost that Rosina Despard wrote under
the name R. C. Morton.
11. Quoted in Rowland 2010: 197.
12. Quoted in Rowland 2010: 193.
13. Oliver Lodge was a prominent physicist who endorsed psychical research’s legitimacy
and the need to reconcile science and religion. His universal Christian catechism for children,
The Substance of Faith Allied with Science (1907), describes an afterlife in which spirits are
reunited with their loved ones. The selfish person will “find himself alone in the universe;
and, unless taken pity on and helped in a spirit of self-sacrifice, may as well be out of exist-
ence altogether. A book called Cecilia de Noel [sic] emphasizes this truth under the guise of
a story” (57). In Psychical Investigations (1917), Lodge’s friend J. Arthur Hill cites Cecilia in a
footnote as “an exemplification of the right attitude” to addressing ghosts with “friendliness
and love” (49). Algernon Blackwood created the occult detective John Silence, but he wrote
about a New Woman redeeming a damned Faustian soul through her salvific kiss during a
psychical investigation in “The Woman’s Ghost Story,” which first appeared in his short story
collection The Listener and Other Stories (1917).
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