On page 2 of the December 22, 1888 edition of the Religio-Philosophical Journal (which you can read here), we have an account entitled "A Voice From the Grave" by Amarala Martin. She says she attended a seance, without giving her name, and was merely given a number of 24 to identify her. Amarala reports several phenomena very widely reported at seances: the sound of mysterious voices, the appearance of mysterious luminous phenomena, and the levitation of an object. In my the first 17 installments of my previous series of "Spookiest Years" posts, I gave a history of the astonishing spiritual manifestations reported between 1848 and 1889, which you can read in my posts here, here, here, here, here, here, here,
here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here and here . Amarala's reports of seance phenomena are similar to many reports quoted in those posts. The "direct voice" phenomenon she describes is like the phenomena described in this post.
Amarala reports this:
"Independent spirit-voices were audible all over the room, many of them addressing their personal friends at the same moment of time. Musical instruments were thrumming and flying about pretty lively, among them a music box which was wound by some invisible force as it sped through the air. It stopped several times and rested on my head and on my lap, seeming much attracted to my locality. After this was repeated several times I felt what seemed like little fingers about my face and little arms around my neck, and heard a whisper saying distinctly:
'Mamma, mamma, I am here; your baby boy Martin. Look, while I try to show myself.'
In an instant there was a ball of light before me just a few inches away and out of it grew a face bearing the image of my child. Seeing it, Mrs. Lord, who was describing a spirit in another part of the circle, cried out, 'Oh! see, see that beautiful boy! Number twenty-four, he says you are his mother.'
The vision faded away before us all, but the voice resumed its story:
'Mamma, I passed away at sunrise one April morning, ...I don’t like this music box like I did my own that you hid in the folds of my dress and buried with me. You couldn’t bear to hear it any more when I was gone, could you?'
Here the investigators inquired whether or not these statements were true, and I told them they were, in every particular; and that only myself and one other person ever knew that the music box was buried with the [child].
It was also utterly impossible for Mrs. x or anyone in the circle to know of it. Here, then, was the little one whose body lay under the blossoms hundreds of miles away, telling me of incidents occurring years before, and proving the continuity of life
and love beyond the grave."