Dr. Mott is Dead

Here’s a little bit about an esteemed member of old New York society.  You can find his name on that most fascinating list of permanent New Yorkers.  Those interred at my favorite place in Brooklyn, The Green-Wood Cemetery.  There is sure to be another post about the history of this beautiful place.  For now, I would like to tell you the story of Dr. Valentine Mott.

Dr. Mott (1785-1865) was the preeminent surgeon of his day.  Trained at Columbia College, he then traveled to Europe where he spent three years perfecting his techniques. He went on to become Columbia College’s Chair of Surgery at the age of 24.  Following that post, he + several of his peers established Rutgers Medical College.

In his obituary, the New York Times recalls: “His position as a surgeon was second to no living professor, and challenged from the renowned Sir ASTLEY COOPER the remarkable eulogy: “He has performed more of the great operations than any man living, or that ever did live.”

The Medical profession had lost one of its most talented men. There is one additional, remarkable detail of this story.  That comes from exactly how Dr. Mott died.  On April 15, 1865 the good Doctor was due for a haircut.  While giving him a trim, his barber asked if he had heard the devastating news.  Dr. Mott replied that he had not.  The barber told Mott that President Lincoln had been mortally wounded by a bullet at Ford’s Theatre in Washington, D. C. only the night before.

Upon hearing this news, Dr. Mott turned very pale + began to tremble, staggering to his bed.  After telling his wife the grave news, he began to grow weaker, experiencing terrible pain in his back. He would never again leave his bed.

Dr. Valentine Mott died eleven days later on April 26, 1865.  His official cause of death is recorded as “Mortification.”

The Curious Case of Mollie Fancher

Her life marked by tragedy + loss,  Ms. Mollie Fancher, or “The Brooklyn Enigma” as she became known, was the preeminent clairvoyant celebrity of Victorian Brooklyn.

It all began with two consecutive accidents: a horse fall at age 17 in the Spring of 1864 followed by a nearly fatal street car accident in the Spring of 1865 in which Fancher’s crinoline skirt was caught in the iron hook of the car’s rear door. She was dragged for nearly a block before the conductor was able to stop. Severely injured, she was carried to her family’s home at 160 Gates Avenue on June 8, 1865 never to leave again.

Bedridden and refusing any sustenance (she claimed that food of any kind was painful to her) a gradual + persistent lack of nourishment caused the loss of her senses of sight, hearing + touch. Caretakers claimed that, “Over a period of six months, her entire food intake was inventoried at four teaspoons of “milk punch,” two teaspoons of wine, a small banana and a cracker.] In time…[she claimed to]…have gone almost entirely without food for 12 years.”

She ceased to sleep, only resting in a trance-like state, the longest of which lasted for nine years. Upon waking, she had no awareness whatsoever of the passage of time, even finishing exact conversations from nine years before.

During this nine-year “trance” she is reported to have developed extraordinary psychic powers. Despite the medically documented loss of her senses she was able to describe in striking detail, the contents of sealed letters carried by couriers in other states, articles of clothing warn by strangers in separate cities, the precise location of an object hidden in a darkened room downstairs from her own.

Several doctors confirmed her physical lack of sight + hearing. Many newspapers seemed to champion her psychic abilities, no doubt due to the popularity of the spiritualist movement of the day. She became a catalyst for contentious debate between both the religious + scientific communities. With scientists ruling her a fraud + spiritualists supporting her claims, Fancher had as many champions as she did detractors.

In all, she spent 50 years confined to her bed. Mollie Fancher passed away on February 12, 1916. In the end, she was heralded as a model for all who struggle through adversity. Her tombstone at Brooklyn’s Green-wood Cemetery reads: “MOLLIE FANCHER knew the secret of life. Half a century in her bed, her dauntless spirit, cheerful patience and unfailing sympathy inspired many with courage to meet life’s problems. Forgetful of her own suffering, she carried the burdens of hosts of friends. Thru a life in industry, God granted her prayer: ‘Let me not lie with folded hands.’”