The New Hampshire Clairvoyant

In the late 1800s, Nellie Titus had a dream about a missing girl. A dream so precise, so disturbingly accurate, that it drew the attention of scholars, spiritualists, and skeptics alike — including America’s most famous psychologist, William James.

In this episode, we step back in time to a snow-covered mill town, where a woman who’d had visions all her life claimed to see what no one else could. 

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What does it mean to know something you shouldn't possibly know? To wake from a dream and describe, in vivid detail, a place you've never been — and a person you've never met?

For centuries, the world has been both fascinated and unsettled by clairvoyants — those who claim to see beyond the senses. From ancient Greek oracles muttering truths in temple smoke, to 19th-century mediums delivering messages from beyond the veil, psychic phenomena have long danced at the edge of belief and doubt.

Some names, like Edgar Cayce or Madame Blavatsky, became icons. Others, like Nellie Titus, flickered brightly and then vanished into the margins of history.

But science has never been kind to clairvoyance.

Double-blind studies, neurological scans, and the laws of physics offer no proof that extrasensory perception exists. The James Randi Educational Foundation famously offered a million-dollar prize for anyone who could demonstrate psychic ability under controlled conditions. Not a single claimant ever passed.

And yet... stories persist.

In the late 1800s, Nellie Titus had a dream about a missing girl. A dream so precise, so disturbingly accurate, that it drew the attention of scholars, spiritualists, and skeptics alike — including America’s most famous psychologist, William James.

In this episode we step back in time to a snow-covered mill town, where a woman who’d had visions all her life claimed to see what no one else could.

Welcome to year five of the Curator135 podcast. My name is Nathan Olli, and this is Episode 92 The New Hampshire Clairvoyant. 

Thirty-one-year-old Bertha Huse awoke earlier than normal on Halloween day, 1898. It was a crisp, fall morning in Enfield, New Hampshire. Huse had recently experienced a broken engagement and was suffering from what people in those days called “fits of melancholy.” Numerous folks she’d spoken to, including her parents, had heard her say that, “Nobody cares for me now.”

She walked down mainstreet towards Mascoma Lake, passing by numerous people before making her way to the Shaker Bridge, a quarter of a mile long, wooden bridge that spanned a narrow part of the lake. 

Her parents woke up around 7:00 am, but since Bertha hadn’t been feeling well for a few days, her mother thought she would let her sleep. Upon calling for her at 8:00 am, her parents were alarmed to notice that their daughter was nowhere to be found. 

They alerted friends, neighbors, and family and a full on search began. Cries had reportedly been heard that morning in the dense woods nearby and a party of 150 men and women with lanterns scoured through the woods without success. After that, the search turned towards the lake. 

Grappling hooks were brought in and the shores were dredged near the Shaker bridge. The amount of logs and brush forming a makeshift dam in parts made it nearly impossible to make any progress. The following day, a diver arrived from Boston. The diver worked for nearly 48 hours without any results. Papers in the region printed descriptions of the missing girl and stories ran daily the first week of November.   

Meanwhile, in nearby Lebanon, New Hampshire, less than seven miles to the east of Enfield, a woman named Nellie Titus sat and read one of those newspapers. She and her new husband of two months, named George, rented a portion of a modest home there. George worked as a loom repairman and she as a seamstress in a small shop nearby. 

It was the evening of Wednesday, November 2nd, when she’d seen the article about the missing girl, Bertha Huse. She discussed the story with her husband and the couple went to bed. Shortly after falling asleep, George was awoken by his new wife, who appeared to be dreaming while sitting up in bed. 

He woke her from her restless sleep and Nellie informed him that she wasn’t done, she needed to see more. She had yet to tell him that she possessed some sort of clairvoyant power, it wouldn’t have sounded good as the couple was courting, especially with it being both of their second marriages. She saw things, sometimes things she wished she hadn’t, and he needed to let her return to her trance so that she could find the missing girl from the paper. 

A few minutes later Mrs. Titus went into another trance, and this time, knowing what was going on, George did not disturb her.

On Thursday morning, after seeing the entirety of her vision, Nellie boarded the 7:00 am train for Enfield. Once there, she made her way to the bridge, past the crowd of people and located the diver from Boston. When she told the man exactly where he could find her body, the diver and others nearby just laughed at her. The woman, who seemed so positive, finally got through to the diver who agreed to search in the area that she was suggesting.

She informed him that he would find the body between two logs at the Enfield end of the bridge on the upper side. She said that only one rubber boot would be visible, the rest of the body being covered up, under water and in the midst of weeds and logs. The diver went to the place she indicated, excited to prove the strange lady wrong, and then, in his own words, "his blood ran cold." 

He first saw the new rubber boot sticking up just where she had indicated. There was no body in sight but as he took hold of the boot, a hat floated to the surface. After a few minutes of work, Bertha Huse’s lifeless body was pulled to shore. 

The location of the body, its position in the water, was completely out of sight from everyone looking, even underwater. The search team hadn’t wanted to place any dynamite in the area she was located because the charge would have wrecked the bridge. 

Had it not been for Mrs. Titus, the body may never have been found, or at least not anytime soon. She was offered money from the girl’s parents for her help in easing their anguish, but Nellie turned it down. She didn’t do it for the money and certainly didn’t want any notoriety because of it. In fact, she didn’t like doing the work at all, it made her feel sick afterwards and confined her to bed for days at a time. 

In those days, news traveled slowly. There would be articles written about her and the apparent power of clairvoyance. By the time anyone would read about her however, she’d be back home resting. It wouldn’t be the last time that her name would show up in newspapers though. 

(break)

We fast forward now to March 31st, 1904. 77-year-old Edward Page is spending his morning the same way he’s spent every morning since his wife passed away the year before, browsing through newspapers and magazines at the public library in Auburndale, Massachusetts.

Edward’s children, 41-year-old Mabel and 33-year-old Harold, are both unmarried and live at home with him. Mabel tends to the house filing in for her deceased mother, while Harold works tirelessly for the Boston & Albany Railroad, a position he’s held ever since his father retired. 

Edward Page had once been a wealthy iron and steel merchant, Mabel and Harold attended the best schools that Boston had to offer. Sometime in the 1870s, things went south for Edward and the family was forced to leave Boston and move in permanently to their former summer home in Weston. 

Sometime in the early afternoon, Edward Page made his way back to his home five miles away. Harold, he knew, was at work but Mabel was home and hopefully had something prepared for lunch. He entered the home and was surprised to find the house eerily quiet. On the kitchen table he found a note.    

“Dear father, Harold has been injured in Boston. Have gone to see him at Massachusetts General Hospital. … Mabel, 12 noon.”

The father dropped the note and his heart sank. He’d need to head back to Boston but he wanted to retrieve something from his bedroom first. On his way to the bedroom he stopped to look in Mabel’s room. What he saw there was devastating.

His daughter lay there before him on her bedroom floor. Thinking she had fainted, Edward grasped her left hand, but found it cold and lifeless. Then he noticed a cut or ligature mark across her throat. He bolted up and ran for the front door. 

There, he paced the front porch for nearly an hour waiting for someone to pass by his isolated home. Eventually he saw a man on his wagon, heading toward a job. Edward flagged the man down and asked him to go to his neighbor’s house to call a doctor. By the time the medical examiner arrived it was the early evening. The doctor noticed the throat wound, which had bled surprisingly little, and decided that Mabel had committed suicide. 

Edward didn’t argue. It made sense to him, she had taken her mother’s death particularly hard. 

Shortly after midnight investigators took a closer look, and quickly found two stab wounds, one on her chest that pierced her heart and one on her back. They were missed somehow during what must have been a cursory look from the doctor.  It was a suicide no longer.

Investigators did all they could to reconstruct what must have occurred. They agreed on the fact that the killer was likely a friend or at least an acquaintance of Mabel. She was too sensible to let in a stranger while inside the home alone and there was no sign of forced entry.

Whoever it was, they figured, entered the home under the guise that Mabel’s brother Harold was hurt. It was possible that she then rushed upstairs to change into appropriate attire for the outside world. The assailant then crept upstairs, surprised her from behind and stabbed her in the back. Maybe she then turned and received the second stabbing. Now on the ground, the intruder then leaned over and finished the job by slicing her throat.  

Mabel’s right hand was also covered in cuts, suggesting that she may have tried to defend herself.  They deduced that the hole made in Mabel’s heart most likely caused an internal hemorrhage which explained the lack of blood from the three various wounds.  

There were no signs of a sexual assault and while none of her jewelry had been touched she did appear to be missing money from her purse. Officers decided that it was a robbery. 

At some point during the investigation Edward Page received word from the railroad station in Boston. Nothing had happened to Harold. He was fine and on his way home.

Detectives and reporters began going door to door in the area, interviewing anyone who may have been near the Page home or possibly saw something. One of the first men interviewed was a 22-year-old man named Charles Tucker. Tucker was cordial and explained that he’d been near the house around noon. 

“I am anxious to do all I can to assist in giving information, but I really know very little,” he said.

It was all reporters and detectives needed, as far as they were concerned he was suspect number one. 

Newspapers hit the stands featuring a flattering picture of Charles Tucker. Seeing the image, a kid who’d remember seeing Tucker the day before, came forward. Another man, who drove a fish wagon, had picked up Tucker less than a mile from the Page home and given him a ride. 

After dropping Tucker off, the fish wagon man found a sheath to a knife on the floor of the wagon. He held on to it, until he saw Tucker’s image in the paper and then brought it to the police station. Police took the sheath to Tucker’s home and quickly located a knife, broken into three pieces. 

Tucker originally told the police that he’d never owned a hunting knife but changed his story, stating that he had destroyed the knife after becoming a suspect in the murder. Police wasted no time arresting Charles Tucker. 

As law enforcement looked into the young man’s past they learned some interesting things. None of them were good. 

He had a record as a petty crook who always seemed to be between jobs and out of money. The year before he’d married a woman named Grace. The two had only been married for a few months when the pair were involved in a boating accident. They were eating lunch together aboard a canoe on the Charles River. According to Tucker, Grace asked to paddle and when he stood up to change seats with her, the canoe flipped. Tucker attempted to save his wife but the current was too strong. A short while later, an exhausted and devastated Tucker was pulled from the water. Grace was found the next day and also pulled from the water, but she was dead. 

On the surface it seemed like nothing but a tragic event, still, rumors began to swirl. 

Tucker had also known Mabel’s brother, Harold Page. The two worked together for a short time at the railroad. Tucker didn’t last at that job, but at some point he had met Harold’s father as well as Mabel Page. 

The trial began on January 5th, 1905. The prosecution had the knife to work with as well as a detailed account of Tucker’s whereabouts on the day of the murder. 

Back in Lebanon, New Hampshire, Nellie Titus was once again thumbing through a daily paper when she came upon the story of the Mabel Page murder and the approaching Charles Tucker trial.  

That night, Nellie fell into another one of her trances. In the vision she saw a man, raggedly dressed, with a torn overcoat. She couldn’t make out the man’s face as he crossed a field of grass but he was definitely more stoutly built than the boy she’d seen in the paper. 

Once people became aware that the clairvoyant, Nellie Titus, had experienced another vision, reporters gathered quickly. 

“I could not say whether he was older or not, but he was heavily built. I plainly saw that man put a knife under some cobblestones in a brook, just as plainly as I see you. If it were bare ground I could go from the Page house directly to the spot very readily. I again saw that man change his clothes in a back pasture or field. It was after I saw him leave the house. I could see the brook where he hid the knife at the time he was changing his clothes.

It might be a fair-sized stream, larger than I realize, but possibly only a brook. I watched him change his clothes, he stood facing me, and he was quite light complected. The man had not completely changed his clothes when I was awoken. He had removed his overcoat, inside coat and vest, and threw them down in a heap. 

The man hurried to get that knife covered. There must be some woods near the brook, either before he got to the brook or after, I can't say which. I could tell that field quick if I should see it.

I think that man had worked at the Page house or near there, and had been discharged; else he had been there for a short stay; I can't tell which. I saw that man come out of the Page house, come out of the front door. He appeared terribly excited, looked in both directions, and then ran through a field. He ran for all he was worth, went straight for the brook and hid the knife. I came out of the trance before discovering what he did with the clothes, except to drop them in a heap.

I saw the knife that killed Mabel Page just as plainly as I see you (referring to the reporter) sitting in the chair. It was a two-edged knife, with a blade. I should say, about four or five inches long; same style of knife as the cut shown in the papers as Tucker's knife. It was all smooth, not broken. 

From what pictures I have seen in the papers of Tucker, it was not he who ran from that Page house and hid a knife. I would like to see an original photograph, and I can say positively then. I Shall Yet See All.”

Since the Bertha Huse case, Nellie Titus had succeeded in locating a boy's body in Mascoma lake. The diver involved with that search stated he found the body just where she’d said, and under the exact conditions that she had named. It had been a few years since she’d helped out in any big cases.

"In this Tucker case I seem powerless to resist: I must know it all. A trance may come over me at any moment, and I may see the whole affair. I must look it up further. I have been ill several days and shall not be any better until this leaves me and my mind can rest. I hardly ever read a murder case on account of its effect upon me. I am now 39 years old and never had gray hair until after that Huse case. I shall yet see all that happened in the Page homestead." 

Charles Tucker’s trial began in the beginning of January 1905. A little over three weeks later, on the 25th, the trial had ended and the jury took only eight hours to determine that he was guilty. During the trial, Tucker did not testify on his own behalf, and maybe he should have. Sympathetic women crowded the courthouse throughout the trial and after he was found guilty, and sentenced to die in the electric chair, were among over 116,000 people to sign a petition that was sent to the governor. Charles Tucker, at the age of twenty-two, they believed, did not deserve to die. 

Tucker and his attorneys attempted to get a new trial numerous times, at least once using Nellie Titus’ visions as the reason. 

The Governor of Massachusetts refused to buy the argument that age had something to do with whether a man should face the death penalty.  He stated that, “Men of no greater age have served in national parliaments and commanded armies that have changed the destinies of the world,” He upheld the sentence.

On June 11th of 1906, Charles Tucker was put to death via the electric chair. Nellie Titus, positive that they’d made a mistake, returned home feeling defeated. 

Shortly before Tucker’s death penalty was carried out another victim was added to the Mabel Page murder. Mabel’s father, Edward Page, saw his health steadily decline after the death of his daughter. He died of a heart attack in April of 1906., two months before the man convicted of Mabel’s murder would die in the electric chair.

The headline for the story about his death read, “Died of a Broken Heart.” 

(break)

While the Tucker trial was happening in Boston, another story garnered headlines in nearby Grafton, New Hampshire. On the morning of April 29th, 1905, the 3-year-old son of Mr. and Mrs. Ernest Braley went missing. The child was playing in the yard when he was last seen by his mother. A few minutes after seeing him, she called for him to come inside. Failing to get a response she went to look for him. She searched around the house, and went to the neighbors before asking some men who were working nearby to help. 

For two days and two nights, hundreds helped look for the Braley boy. With the house being near a heavily wooded area, they thought that maybe the child had wandered into them and been the victim of a bear that many had reported seeing lately. 

Tiny bones were found amongst ashes in the Braley barn, but they appeared to be old and even the medical examiner couldn’t make out if they were human or not. On the fifth of May, Nellie Titus was brought in to help. 

She was driven to a nearby pond, after police speculated that he may have wandered into it or perhaps been thrown into it. Footprints had been spotted on the shore of the pond, it was the best lead they had. 

Mrs Titus gazed across the water and meditated. The group of men around her stood and watched, amused by the trance she had placed herself in. After a few minutes, she spoke. 

"He is not here; he is not in water." Nellie explained that there was no use looking so far from his home, so she was driven back to the Braley home, for dinner. On the way, Titus discussed what little she’d been able to glean from her short meditation. 

“I cannot see any pond, I cannot see any water in connection with this boy. All I can see is the woman. She is everywhere. I see nothing but her. I do not see yet what she has done, I must get near her, I must see her and get her under control.”.

During the afternoon, Titus followed the brook near the Braley house and roamed over the fields. She looked at the farm buildings. Then she had a long talk with Mrs Braley who seemed quite anxious to see Mrs. Titus.

“I hope you can help me get back my Elwin," she said to the clairvoyant. "I have faith in you, and will tell you anything you wish to know." Titus asked a few questions, and while Mrs. Braley talked she sat in silent contemplation. Meanwhile outside, the search team dug through piles of manure, tore the flooring from the sheds and examined the earth beneath. They searched the lofts and the nearby well but found nothing.  

Many believed that the mother had something to do with the boy's disappearance. It was suggested at one point that the body of the first child they’d lost be exhumed and examined. That never happened. The story ran in the paper a few more weeks and then folks moved on, including Nellie Titus. She had tried to help but all she got were intense visions of the mother. Without a body there wasn’t much anyone could do. 

Two years later, in May of 1907, a five-gallon galvanized pail was found in a wooded area in East Grafton covered by a heavy horse blanket. The bucket was full of quicklime, meant to disintegrate bone. There appeared to be bits of flesh and thread from clothing, but certainly not enough to determine if it was once a child inside.

Ernest Braley and his wife were found living in the nearby town of Dorchester. They had two children by then, a two-year-old girl and an 8 month old boy. They both denied ever seeing the bucket or blanket as they were described to them.

Closure in a story such as this would be wonderful, unfortunately, as is often the case with mysteries from the late 1800s and early 1900s, there was none, at least in the papers. 

(break)

Towards the end of 1907, Nellie Titus caught the attention of a distinguished Harvard Psychologist. 

The Bertha Huse case was thoroughly examined by Professor William James of Harvard, who for more than 20 years was the head of the department of philosophy in the Cambridge institution. 

James was not quick to believe. But the visions of Nellie Titus were exciting. He wrote that it stood apart from the usual trickery — a dream so precise it seemed to echo from beyond the conscious mind. He accepted the facts of the case as being entirely worthy of credence. and likewise worthy of study. He wrote extensively about Titus and the Huse case in the first volume of the American Society of Psychical Research. "My own view of the Titus case is that it is a decidedly solid document in favor of the admission of a supernormal faculty of seership.”

In interviews with Nellie Titus, she stated that she’d always had the power, but had never tried to develop it. She believed that she inherited it from her grandmother. 

"When I was a small child," she said, "my folks said I had nightmares of the worst kind. They would lose articles about the house and during the night I would see them in vision form and the next morning tell them where they were. When I was 7 years of age a man who lived in Plainfield Plains lost some money and I told him where he could find it, and he went directly to the spot and located the money. I don't like to have these spells," she continued, "for they always make me sick. After I found the Huse girl I was very ill for three weeks with a crazy headache. It would ache so hard that I would pound my head against the wall or bed to get relief.”

She was asked about fortune telling.  

“I have chances every day to tell fortunes for people, but I don't believe in fortune telling and my husband does not like to have me do this work as it injures my health and so now I don't do anything of the kind. In a serious case like that of the Tucker case and the Braley child I can't help myself." 

Nellie Titus was flooded with letters and communications from people all around the country and from many of the greatest mediums in the world. Many of these people prodded her to do more, stating that if she were to harness the power she could be one of the world’s great seers. 

But she didn’t want the pressure and she certainly didn’t want the after effects that came along with her visions… unless… maybe she could put up with all of that for $75,000 in gold. 

In August of 1908, Nellie had another one of her visions, and for once, they didn’t involve a dead body. This vision involved buried treasure on a nearby farm owned by the Fredette family. 

"It came to me all of a sudden," she said, "and I was willing to look for it. When I am near the spot I am almost frantic.” 

A large crew of men had arrived to help locate the treasure on the Fredette Farm. They dug for days, down over twenty feet. They dug so deep that local authorities made them build up walls around the hole to prevent a cave in. As time passed she was asked again about the treasure. People were becoming more skeptical. 

“This noon I again saw the money just as plain as I can see you (pointing to a friend in the room) and if they go down about two feet farther then they’ll get it. I do not need the gold, but I can see it just as it lies hidden away in the large iron chest when they have gone down two feet farther everybody will be convinced of it.” 

The men continued to dig through soil and then clay, until their hands were bloodied. Titus stood by the hole, sometimes for periods of eight hours, waiting to hear the clink of shovel on iron chest. Occasionally she would need to lie down in the Fredette home, and at night she would return to her house only to be the first person there the next morning. 

The men believed in her and her powers, working upwards of twelve hours each day, their only motivation was the promised percent of the treasure. Mr. Fredette was to get half of it, the rest would be split up by the crew. So many people came to witness the event that the land owner decided he should start charging ten cents a visitor, but at that point it was too late. They’d dug past the point of where her vision said it would be, and for all of that work, the treasure was never found. 

After the treasure hunt, stories of Nellie Titus fall away completely, until 13 years later in 1921. In August of that year, a Dr. Willis Marion went for a swim in Lake Mascoma, the origin of the Nellie Titus story. He went missing, and once again, the lake was dragged, dynamite was used, and later a diver brought in. When nothing was found they called Titus out of retirement. She tried to help but couldn’t find his location. 

Eventually they did find his body, but only out of sheer luck. 

Finally, in late September of 1957, Nellie Titus, who now went by her birth name of Helen, passed away in her hometown of Lebanon, New Hampshire. She was 93 years old. Her obituary reads, 

“Funeral services will be held in the Valley Funeral Home at 2 p.m. Thursday for Mrs. Helen M. 

Titus, 93, who died at the Alice Peek Day Hospital. Interment will follow. Survivors one son, Lewis Clark of Norwich; four grandchildren, 16 great grandchildren and five great great grandchildren. The deceased lived in Lebanon for 60 years.

Mrs. Titus was born in Springfield, Mass., June 24, 1864, the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Charles Lewis. Friends may call at the Valley Funeral Home from 7 to 10 p.m.

In the flickering candlelit parlors of the late 1800s, clairvoyants like Nellie Titus weren’t just curiosities — they were cultural phenomena. Their rise was not accidental. It was the echo of a world straining to find meaning in the unseen, the uncertain, the unknowable.

This was an era of contradiction — one foot rooted in tradition and religious certainty, the other stepping boldly into a new century of science, telegraphs, typewriters, and electric light. The world was changing fast. But with change came loss — the Civil War, waves of disease, industrial accidents, and shifting family structures left people grasping for connection.

Clairvoyants offered more than predictions — they offered hope. A whisper from a lost loved one. A vision of clarity amid chaos. A way to access truths that newspapers, doctors, and even churches couldn’t always deliver.

And unlike today — where answers are just a search bar away — information in the 19th century was limited, slow, or completely inaccessible. People didn’t have Google. They had intuition. Gut feeling. And sometimes... Nellie Titus.

It’s easy to dismiss spiritualism as superstition, but the need it answered was very real: a hunger for understanding in a world growing too fast to grasp.

Today, we still look to algorithms and AI for answers. In another time, they looked to crystal balls and dreams. Either way, the question remains the same: What lies beneath the surface of what we think we know?

Are you a believer? Let me know, Nathan@curator135.com - I’ll have photos and articles from this story up on the website, Curator135.com

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