CHAPTER FIVE
THE FIRST MATE1UALISATIONS

One of the most remarkable sittings we held in Cardiff’ took place some three months after the psychic “operation” when our friends came to stay with us for their holidays. Flora Macdonald told us that they were going to try an experiment, and in order to bring about the desired conditions, requested us to spend outdoors the day on which the sitting would be held that evening. We were to eat sparingly and to avoid meat of any kind.

At Belle’s request gramophone music was played. We saw a cameo head and shoulders of a control, known to us as Matron, in nurse’s attire, build up. She went to each sitter and held a conversation. Although the cameo manifestation was no larger than four inches, all the features could be discerned. After bidding us good night, the materialisation faded.

We were commenting on the last manifestation when I felt a pressure on my left knee. Looking down, I saw that Belle had partly materialised. We had a long talk, she gazing at me, and I looking down at her. Belle went to each sitter in turn, sat on their knees, and held a conversation as she had done with me.

Following Belle, twenty-two entities communicated, among them being my wife’s four brothers who were killed in World War I, my mother, my brother-in-law, my two regimental pals, Sergts. Walwyn and Cross who were killed on the same day as I was wounded at Mametz Wood, July, 1916, Flora Macdonald and W. T. Stead.

Thinking we had reached the close of the sitting, we were surprised to hear Belle say, “I wonder what I can do now before wishing you good night.” After a momentary pause, as if in meditation, she said, “I know, I am going downstairs.” The séance room was upstairs. Almost as quick as thought, Belle was downstairs and back to the séance room, as we learned when she said to me, “Take this.” I held my hands out in front of me, and in them Belle put a telephone cover, which was a model of a woman dressed in red velvet, eighteen inches high. The cover was kept in the front sitting-room downstairs.

Belle again said she was going downstairs. Jocularly we asked her not to clear the room of its furnishings. Returning in a twinkling of an eye, she again asked me to hold out my hands. This time she placed four ash trays, one after the other, counting them as she did so, and finally handed me the stand-holder for the trays. These articles also had been brought from the sitting-room downstairs.

One visitor asked Belle if she was going to bring him something. “Just a minute,” she replied. “Let me think. I know,” she added, and away she went. Almost immediately, she asked our friend to hold out his hands. In them she placed his shaving brush, soap and safety razor. These she had brought from the bathroom.

Turning to his wife, Belle said she would try to bring her something. Again, in less time than one can say it, Belle had been to the bedroom, collected her hair brush and comb, and handed them to her.

My wife asked Belle if she was going to be favoured as well. “Yes,” replied Belle, “but wait a minute.” We waited a moment, then we heard Belle say, “Here you are.” Belle handed to my wife her powder puff and bowl which had been taken off a dressing-table in another bedroom. That was the end.

After the Rev. T. H. J. had pronounced the blessing, we closed the sitting with prayer and thanksgiving for being honoured in witnessing these remarkable phenomena. The clock chimed midnight as we left the séance room. We had spent four of the most wonderful hours of our lives.

During one of our frequent visits to London to stay with our friends, we had an amusing experience. It was arranged one day that we should meet the husband at his office in Victoria Street, S.W.1, about 5.30 p.m. It was getting dark when we arrived at the office, in the basement of a large building.

We sat in his private office while he went through the letters before handing them to the typist to post. After the typist left, we went into the general office to have a chat on the day’s events before going out to tea. We did not bother to switch on the lights because the many lights from adjoining offices shining across the area gave all the illumination we required for the short time we intended to stay.

We had only just started talking, when Belle interrupted our conversation with, “This is a funny place to bring me; it’s like a cellar.” “You were not asked to come,” I replied. “In any case, you were the last person we expected.” She then told us she was going to have a look round. Espying something she found of interest, she asked if I could tell her what were the little things on the shelf. I said that I did not know, but if she would pass one down to me, I might be able to tell her.

“Here, catch,” called Belle. I cupped my hands to catch what she had thrown, but I missed it. The object fell with a thud on the floor. Groping around, we found it was a small weight, as used on balance scales. Our friend said that a number of the weights were stored on the top shelf.

Belle then said, “What are these boxes?” I replied, “I don’t know.” “Catch this one,” she said. I missed again, and the box fell on the floor. The impact knocked off the cover, and tile contents, envelopes, were scattered over the floor. While we were picking them up, she said, “Good night, Mr. Man.” Asked to whom she was referring, Belle replied:

“Oh, the man with the bald head in the next room. He’s putting his hat on ready to go home.” Immediately afterwards, we heard the door of the adjoining office shut. Our friend confirmed that the man in the next office was bald.

Belle told us that there was a bowl of water that should have been emptied, as it was not very clean. Just where we were sitting, a corner had been curtained off where the typist kept cups and saucers, wash bowl, etc., and made morning and afternoon tea. Belle said that as she did not like the bowl of water where it was she would move it.

Imagine our astonishment when we saw the bowl, three parts full of water, floating in space some two feet above the floor. As it floated from the curtain to come to rest by our feet, we looked at each other with astonishment. Before we had completely recovered, Belle said: “There, that’s that. Now we will go and have some tea at Dicken’s Cafe.”

She asked us to stop in front of the mirrors as we went into the cafe. “We would look funny,” she said, “and she would have a laugh.” At that time, there were a number of distorting mirrors that you had to pass when going downstairs to the cafe.

On entering, we chose a table under one of the relieving arches, a tunnel-like affair. The waitress came and took our order. While we were waiting to be served, loud raps were heard underneath the table. The table itself then began to rock, causing the crockery to clatter. We were feeling embarrassed, but when the table began to rise from the floor, we got scared. What if the other occupants observed what was going on? We hoped that the waitress would not arrive with the food, and see the table suspended in space. Fortunately, the table descended, and everything was normal by the time the waitress arrived with the order. We breathed a sigh of relief.