CHAPTER ELEVEN
CAST-IRON EVIDENCE FOR STRANGERS

A few months later arrangements were made by The Link to hold the largest public direct voice séance at the Aeolian Hall, Bond Street, London. For weeks everyone connected with the organising of this meeting was in a state of tension. The tension reached a climax when, two days before the meeting, I informed the committee of my wife’s indisposition, and that her doctor had advised against her going to the meeting.

As the result of a chill, acute laryngitis developed. Because of this, her doctor did not want her to run any risks. Every seat had been sold. There was no way of letting ticket holders know of the cancellation of the meeting because tickets had been distributed all over the country. We could foresee the confusion and disappointment of over six hundred people, especially those who had travelled long distances, on arriving at the hail to learn that the meeting had been cancelled. Rather than disappoint, my wife said she would run the risk, and would leave the matter in the hands of the spirit world.

Despite treatment, her condition was as bad as it could be on Saturday, and I suggested that it would be absurd for her to leave the house. She insisted on going, and there was consternation among the committee when they saw her pitiable condition. Only the organiser, Mr. Noah Zerdin, seemed indifferent. “The Other Side has never let us down yet,” he said, “and it will not let us down now, of that I am sure.” How true were his words and how unfounded were our fears.

Every seat was filled when the time came to begin. An inner and outer circle were formed on the stage, consisting of forty-two persons specially chosen for their psychic power or their value as good sitters. There were three microphones in the centre of the inner circle, one to be used for amplifying the voices in the auditorium, the other two for making gramophone records.

When all was ready, my wife was escorted to the platform by Mr. Zerdin. To the strains of 0 God, Our Help In Ages Past, the audience combined with the platform party in creating those conditions which make for success. After an invocation, the lights were extinguished, or such as were allowed to be put out by the authorities, not without a little confusion, and the assembly sang Abide With Me.

An unfortunate delay occurred. The hall lights indicating the exits were shining on the medium’s face. It was found necessary to protect her with a screen. We waited, I should think, no more than five minutes, when the first voice was heard. It was Belle, lisping childishly. Shortly afterwards a stentorian voice spoke. It was that of the Rev. Dr.

Coulthard, father of Dr. H. Coulthard, who was sitting in the outer circle.

“I am here to make you understand that there is no death, but life everlasting,” he said. “You must realise that you can never see clearly through a window that is dirty. You must take a duster and clean your window in order to see through it. The window to which I am referring is the window of your soul. Then you will see a beautiful garden in all its glory. This realisation will be the greatest achievement of your earthly journey.

“Today, man cannot say that no one has ever come back to tell him of the life that is to come. There is no doubt man has to realise, more and more, that there is an overflowing goodness from the Loving Father. May each one of you, when you make the change at the junction where there are no material return tickets, find happiness in the journey, and let us hope you will find no difficulty in unlocking the door of greater understanding!”

Among the many messages was one from George Hirst, who sent his greetings to George Lansbury.

“You didn’t think you would ever hear me like this, did you, Nurse Groves?” said the next voice, beginning a communication to which I have referred in an earlier chapter. “I can see you up there in the balcony. It is Charles Wright. Do you hear me, Nurse Groves?” From the audience came the answer, “I hear you.”

“Well, and how are you, my little pro? I wish to help you from this side. Do you remember where I lived? I lived at Lynton Villa, Virginia Road, Leeds.” The nurse replied, “That’s right, I remember.”

“You were my little pro at the Women and Children’s Hospital, Leeds.” Several doctors’ names were mentioned and were all recognised by the woman in the audience. “The doctors today wear white coats, but I wore my black alpaca coat. Well, Nurse Groves, you don’t have to pick up my glasses from off the patients now as you used when I was performing an operation.”

The recipient informed us that she assisted at the operations which Charles Wright performed when she was a nurse at the Women and Children’s Hospital, Leeds, nearly fifty years ago. She was now turned seventy years of age, and had married, but her maiden name was

Groves. It was the first séance she had ever attended, and nobody present knew her.

There followed what has since proved to be one of the most evidential occurrences of this memorable séance. It started with a voice saying: “I am William Jones, and I want to talk to my mother. You are there, Mother, can you hear me?” “I can hear you, my boy,” responded a woman from the audience.

After an intimate talk between mother and son, he volunteered: “There is another William Jones here, but he is no relation of ours. He is unable to get through himself, but he wants to send a message. The controls have given me permission to pass on the message.”

It should be noted that with the direct voice, every communicator must speak for himself or herself. That is the meaning of direct voice. Only in exceptional circumstances is the rule broken. I know only of two cases in over ten thousand communications where this has happened, and the William Jones which I am quoting was the first.

“The other William Jones wants to know if someone will take a message to his sisters, Jane and Gwen. He wants them to know that he is all right, and for them not to worry about him. Tell them he has met Mum and Dad, and they were all going to look after them.” Asked if he could give the address of his sisters in order that the message could be sent, he said, “Wait a moment, I will ask him.” After a slight pause, he spoke again: “He tells me that his sisters live at Gower House, Woodland Road, Barry. Have you got it?” He then repeated the address. “Don’t forget to tell them not to worry. I am very glad that I have been able to help in this way, especially as this is the first time I have spoken like this. God bless you, Mother.”

The voice changed and Philip Champion de Crespigny gave a message to his wife, Mrs. Rose Champion de Crespigny, the well-known novelist, who was in the audience.

Among the many evidential communications was one from the great Arsenal football manager, who said: “I am anxious to send my greetings and love to my wife. Tell those of the Club, who have done so much for her, how much I appreciate what they have done. My name is Herbert Chapman.”

Mr. Chapman’s message was sent to the Arsenal Football Club. The acting manager, acknowledging it, wrote:

“Thank you very much for our late colleague’s message. Whether one believes in Spiritualism or not, it is just the sort of message our old friend would send.”

There was also a message in the obvious voice of an actor, who said: “I have spoken many times before. I have spoken to a young man there in the audience, and told him that I would help him with his work. That is correct, is it not, Jimmy? You know who is speaking.” “Yes, I know who is speaking,” came the reply from the audience.

“For the benefit of our friends, I will announce myself. I am Dennis Neilson-Terry.”

One of the most interesting and evidential developments occurred when the attempt was made to check the message sent by William Jones. After the séance, Mrs. Culley, who was present, wrote to the Misses Jones of Barry Dock, telling them what had occurred. She received the following reply:

“103, Woodland Road, “Barry Dock. “7th May, 1934.

“Dear Mrs. Culley,

“My sister and I were rather surprised to have a letter from you last Saturday morning, with the news you kindly sent us in it.

“We feel very grateful to you for sending the message on to us that you bad in your meeting at London from our dear brother William who passed away in March last.

“I must say it is the first one that we have received from any of our dear ones that have passed on to the other side, and we sincerely trust that all our dear ones in our family that have passed on are all very happy.

“Again thanking you very much for writing to us. “Yours very sincerely,

“Jane and Gwen Jones.”

On 12th May, Mr. Zerdin wrote to Mrs. Culley: “Dear Friend,

“Was it you who received the message at the Aeolian Hall meeting from a William Jones, and asked to convey the message from another William Jones to Jane and Gwen of Barry?

“I have had the letter sent on to me which you sent to Mrs. Perriman, and I shall be very much obliged if you will kindly let me have a copy of that letter. If you have not, please tell me exactly what you have written to Jane and Gwen, as such things are ‘wanted for evidence and should be put on record.

“Did you know the two ladies in question before you received the message, and when was the last sitting you had with Mrs. Perriman?

“I am not asking these questions in any spirit of unbelief, but as organiser and chairman of The Link, it is my duty to have all the evidence in full detail and as clear as possible.

“Trusting that you will be good enough to let me hear from you by return.”

Mrs. Culley replied: “Cardiff.

“14th May, 1934. “Dear Mr. Zerdin,

“The message sent by William Jones was not intended for me. But after the meeting, when it was suggested to me, I said I would give it to Jane and Gwen Jones. I am sorry I did not make a copy of the letter I sent to them, but I received the answer by return of post. The answer I sent immediately to Mrs. Perriman. I had no idea of the ladies in question, or of such an address. The last sitting I had with Mrs. Perriman was about the middle of March.

“When I wrote to Barry, I said I was asked to give them a message but did not know of their existence or if there was such an address. I gave them the message and said they could find an account of the meeting in Psychic News, May 5th, and offered to see them if they wished. No mention was made of the offer in their letter of thanks. I then sent off a copy of the paper. This is all I can tell you. I hope it has been of service.

Mr. Zerdin also wrote to the Misses Jones: “Dear Friends,

“Your letter of 7th May addressed to Mrs. Culley has been passed on to me.

“I am the chairman and organiser of the above organisa— tion and I was also chairman of the meeting at the .IEolian Hall, where the message from your brother, William Jones, was received, and for the purpose of evidence, I shall be obliged if you will kindly let me have a few particulars.

“(i) Is the name of the house where you live, Gower House?

“(2) Do you know or.did you know Mrs. Culley prior to receiving the message?

“(i) Are you Spiritualists and members of any Spiritualist organisation?

“I hope that you will understand that I am asking these questions not out of curiosity, but for the purpose of getting at the truth which is so important to all of us.

“Thanking you in anticipation of the favour of your reply.” They replied:

“103, Woodland Road, “Barry Dock, Glam. “10th May, 1934.

“Mr. N. Zerdin,

“Dear Sir,

“In reply to your letter of the 14th, which we received from you with regard to the message that came through from my brother, William Jones, in your meeting at the Aeolian Hall:

“(i) Yes. This house is called Gower House, but as you see by this letter we always, when writing, use the number 103, and not the name, also my brother did the same when corresponding to everybody.

“(2),.Also I never knew Mrs. Culley, nor heard of her name before she wrote us.

“(s) We are not Spiritualists. “Yours faithfully, “J. and G.Jones.”

Reference has also been made to the fact that one microphone, at the last moment, failed to operate and nobody but the engineers knew which one it was. In the darkness it would have been impossible for the medium to have known which of the two was operative, yet never was there a voice that failed to be recorded.

It is interesting to record that the engineers, skeptical of the whole proceedings prior to the séance, were, at the end, inclined to accept this incident as the best evidence of all, more especially as they had carefully adjusted the microphone to receive a certain volume of sound, and this volume, known to the spirit world, was employed throughout.

The most ambitious of the public séances was held at the Victoria Hall, London, on 27th April, 1935. We had discussed from time to time, with those in the Other World, the possibility of getting the voices in some sort of light, as we thought, by achieving this, it would remove from suspicious minds any idea of fraud.

Light, as we know, destroys or neutralises certain vibrations. It is common knowledge to the listening-in public that long-distance stations radiating during the daytime are not so well picked up by their wireless receiving sets as they are when darkness sets in. Those familiar with the scientific side of wireless know the explanation. Again, we all know that photographic plates have to be developed in the dark.

The ectoplasm used to build the apparatus necessary for the direct voice, as explained in an earlier chapter, becomes affected when subjected to light, thus making communication almost impossible under these conditions. Hence the reason for dark séances. However, we have always found the spirit world ready and anxious to co-operate with us in our endeavours to progress. And so we started experimenting. It was by experimenting that we succeeded in getting the direct voice in red light. There have been occasions when spirit voices have been heard in white light, and at different times in daylight.

So we come to the Victoria Hall experiment. At this séance two further experiments were tried. A special box, constructed by Dr. Nandor Fodor, Research Officer for the International Institute for Psychic Research, London, was used. It was hoped that it would be possible for a spirit “larynx” to be built inside the dark cabinet formed by the box, while the rest of the hail was in light. A tube connected the box to the back of the medium’s neck. The second experiment was the making of gramophone records of the voices. A gramophone company collaborated and installed a recording outfit on the stage.

The light was not brilliant, but it was sufficient to enable all sitters to see each other clearly. During the greater part of the séance, the medium was partially protected from the light by a curtain held in front of her by two men. But the voices were heard even before this, when everyone could see the medium at the same time that the spirit communicators were talking.

The experiment with the box was not a success, although voices were heard indistinctly. Dr. Fodor, who was sitting next to his box, said he could not be sure whether the voices came from inside the box or not, but they were heard in that vicinity. Dr. Fodor’s box was disconnected because the voices were not sufficiently loud to be relayed by the loud­speakers. But then a remarkable thing happened. The box had been disconnected, and while the lights were still on, shining directly on my wife, spirit voices were heard. These were even louder than those that spoke when the box was in use. The voice of Belle was plainly heard.

It was not possible to turn out all the lights in the hail. The exit lights had to be retained, as well as other coloured lights along the walls. Also, light was streaming in beneath the curtains at the windows. Everything was clearly visible. The voices were strong and clear, and came plainly through the loudspeakers. The microphone to the loudspeakers broke down, but the voices were loud enough to be heard by the people sitting in the farthermost seats in the hall.

All the voices were recorded on wax discs under the direction of Dr. Fodor. In all, six double-sided twelve-inch records were made, and these are a wonderful and lasting testimony of what happened on this memorable occasion.

Early in the séance there was an address by the Rev. Dr. Walter Coulthard.

“I am the Rev. Edward White, late Rector of Bourton-on-the-Water,” announced a voice soon afterwards. “I have been brought here by the Rev. Dr. Coulthard. My father, the Rev. John White, also is here. Will you please let my people know at Bourton-on-the-Water, and tell them I am going to preach the same tale only with a different ending? I have come here purposely to give the Church a chance, for now I understand. Please make the matter public Get in touch with those that are near. Get in touch with my people and tell them all that I will preach again, in my old place, but through another.”

The details supplied by the Rev. Edward White were I followed up, and everything he told us proved to be correct. Some months later, we were visited by a group of people, all strangers to us, to whom we gave a sitting. Before going into the séance room we sat talking. I happened to mention the gramophone records that had been made of the voices, and referred to the Rev. Edward White, once Rector of Bourton-on-the­Water.

“The Rev. Edward White?” said one woman. “I knew him. I used to live at Bourton-on-the-Water, and always went to service at Mr. White’s church.”

“That is very interesting,” I said. “If you like, I will play the record on which his voice is heard.” While it was being played she became excited. “Why,” she exclaimed, “it might be his real self! His voice is the same, and I can picture him standing in his pulpit delivering his sermon. It’s wonderful. If I did not know he had passed into the higher life, I would have thought he must have spoken those words when in the body.”

Another spirit communicator at this public séance asked I that his relatives should be told he had communicated. “I am William Howarth,” he said, “and I lived in York, at No. 24, Westgate.” He wanted someone named Symons to be told that he had communicated, and mentioned the name of Lily.

Bill Jackson, a regular communicator, made everyone laugh when he came throngh. “They’ve won,” he said, “aye, they’ve won, by gum they’ve won!”

“Who’s won?” asked a sitter.

“Why, Sheffield,” said Jackson. “They’ve won the coop.” The day on which this sitting was held coincided with the F.A. Cup Final, at Wembley, when Sheffield Wednesday won the F.A. Cup. Apparently, our friend Jackson was a keen football enthusiast when he lived on earth, and still is.