SECOND NIGHT‘S SITTING

During the first night’s sitting Mrs. Wriedt said that someone giving the name of “House” wished to speak, and she thought it was intended for me. Before I could collect my thoughts our minister friend spoke out and said that he knew someone of the name “Hess,” and that the message would probably be for him. He asked some questions, but nothing came of it, and I thought the incident was closed.

To-night, however, I was struck smartly on the hand by the trumpet, and the name “House” was pronounces most distinctly, and, further, that he knew me, and wished to speak. I asked where he was from, when he replied “From across the water.” I then asked: “Was he William H. House?”, and he said, “Yes that’s my name,” in a loud and most emphatic tone, and then went on to talk of business matters which were known by no one in Scotland but myself. He also gave me some personal details without mentioning names, but which I fully understood, and I was surprised to find that he entertained a grudge against one who was known to me. I cannot, of course, go into this matter further, but it was clearly evident to me that his business life was still filling his mind to a great extent, and that he was fully aware of what had transpired at the time of his death.

This gentleman was the president of an American Buttonhole Manufacturing Company, for whom my firm had acted as representatives in Great Britain and Ireland. Unfortunately, his Company, unable to compete successfully with a wealthier opponent, came to grief, and Mr. House took to his bed, and passed over after a short illness.

Later on I heard a very faint whisper from the trumpet, and, after a little time, got the name Lizzie B——, a young lady who had died a few years previously. She was a gentle shy creature, and there was no doubt to me that the voice was hers. She said that she had tried to make herself known to my wife on the previous night, but could not speak distinctly enough. She asked me to tell her father, but I replied that I had already told him of the truth of spirit return, and that he did not believe it. She replied: “I know but he thinks a lot about it.”

I then asked: “Is Mina H.—— with you?” “No,” she said, “but I will go and get her to speak.”

Poor Lassie, she forgot, and so did I, that others were as eager to talk as we were, and, the line of communication being broken, it could not be picked up again that night, at any rate.

After another interval I was again spoken to, this time by my mother, who said that she had also been at the séance on the previous night, but had stood back to give the others a chance to speak.

I think that the best test of all was the feeling expressed in the tones of the voices when speaking. They were true to the life, and I can vouch that everything I got fitted in most wonderfully and accurately with the characteristics of those whom they claimed to be.

Glasgow, January 15, 1913.

Dear Admiral Moore,—

I send you something further regarding last year’s gathering which you may consider of value. The writer is a nephew of mine, a young man, twenty-six years of age. I wish he had detailed more fully the several questions he put to extract the answers. I felt I had made a mistake in inviting him, as he was so positive that I thought he would upset all conditions. He would be satisfied with nothing which was not particularly clear. In the talk with my son-in-law, Joe Crowther, there was a mass of detail about the photos he was shown, and it was some time before he got the nature

of the prints which they had been looking over. Until the night of the séance I had never heard about the interview at all. When it came to his fathers visit he made me feel the proceedings would be spoilt. “If you are my father, you can give me your name,” and, persisting, he brought it forth with a mass of other facts. His father was a spiritualist; a very clever man, whom Gerald Massey looked upon as having one of the keenest intellects he had met with. He instinctively grasped the writings on Egyptology, and wrote a series of articles in the old medium. The family have had so many deaths, and got so little of value regarding their survival, that they got sick of the subject of spiritualism; but now all are awake to its realities. I feel more and more that your accumulated facts will break down the barriers which keep the light from streaming through.

All kind regards.

Yours faithfully,

James Robertson.

It may be safely said, perhaps, that since the consciousness of existence dawned on the human race, no problem has been greater than the mysteries that surround both life and death. It is perhaps true, also, that the desire to fathom, if possible, these mysteries has grown steadily with the ages, until with the present generation there are no problems more poignant with vital interest. It cannot be said that the origin of life can be in any way understood, and we remain baffled by that great problem. That there is a continuence of life after death is the confident hope of all such ages; but the problems of such a spiritual existence is to most people only a mystifying one, and can only be grasped vaguely. The desire for more light, however, is an ever-increasing one to most of us, for, as the years pass on, we must all experience the loss of dear friends and intimates. Family ties become broken, the parents guidance and loving care cease, the brothers and sisters we grew up among and loved, and the dear friends we were so familiar with, pass into that great silence; and, just as we cherished and loved them in life, our thoughts follow them into that great beyond, and we never cease to ponder over the mystery of it all; and the greatest desire is to know that perhaps that magnetic sympathy that united us in this world may enable us to meet with them again in that spiritual state beyond the grave. From the time that I had reason to think of these matters I have been familiar with hearing of the extraordinary and varied manifestations of a spiritual existence gleaned through spiritualistic séances, etc.; and, although such manifestations had hitherto interested me greatly, yet I could not credit or understand such astounding phenomena as my more credulous (as I then imagined) friends experienced and detailed to me. That I was soon to have these doubts dispelled I could not then credit; but it had been my desire, if an opportunity presented itself, to investigate for myself such manifestations. My mother had been fortunate enough to be present at a séance held in the house of my uncle, Mr. James Robertson, the medium being Mrs. Wriedt, and she was so impressed by the messages that came to those at that meeting, as well as to herself, that I determined, should I be fortunate enough to be able to do so, to attend a sitting held by this wonderful medium. I was not altogether ignorant of the astounding messages that had been obtained through Mrs. Wriedt’s mediumship, for a very appreciative article appeared in Nash’s Magazine just about that time, and it was through the kindness of my uncle, James Robertson, that I was able to be present at one of these sittings. The facts are very vivid in my memory, and I shall now proceed to give an exact account of what transpired. It must be understood that I went to this meeting quite sceptical, and determined to accept nothing that did not, in my own mind, bear

the stamp of truth. The sitting took place at my uncle’s house at 5 Granby Terrace, and, with the exception of my uncle and two of my cousins, the remaining ten or twelve people were entire strangers to me. In a casual way I was introduced to the medium, Mrs. Wriedt, whose personality impressed me immediately. One felt instinctively that here indeed was a gentle, kindly woman, and this helped perhaps to convince me that by such a person no fraud could be capable of being perpetrated. At the same time, I determined to let nothing of this influence me. It must be understood that this was the first sitting of the kind I had attended, and I was therefore, naturally enough, sceptical and determined to put matters to the proof if an opportunity presented itself.

We were seated in a circle, my uncle being next to me (whose influence, perhaps, contributed greatly to the fact that I received such extraordinary messages); the medium sat exactly opposite me, a few yards distant; and the trumpet, a long cylindrical one, like a miniature megaphone, was placed in the centre of the circle. Almost immediately I observed what appeared like a small, white cloud floating about, and after a few seconds the trumpet was lifted from the floor, and a voice addressed us. To say that I was astonished would be to put it mildly, as the voice was strong and deep, and kept swinging right round the circle in a most extraordinary fashion. This, as it turned out, was the spirit of Dr. Sharp, Mrs. Wriedt’s control, or guide; but, of course, I didn’t know anything about that at the time. On the contrary, I was quite suspicious, and listened intently for any movement on the medium’s part, etc. On the contrary, she immediately began speaking to the Doctor in the most matter-of-fact tone in the world. I shall not detail the conversation that transpired, or the good lecture we received from the Doctor on the question of health, etc.; but, on asking if there were many friends present, we were informed that there were thousands awaiting an opportunity of making their presence known. Truly, an extraordinary fact! After a little while the Doctor, who evidently acted as a sort of superintendent and general interpreter, so to speak, relinquished the trumpet to his spirit friends, and the manifestations commenced. The first spirit to speak was my cousin’s late husband, Joe Crowther; and I must confess that I felt a little disappointed, for in no way could I recognise the voice, or any other particular characteristic. It was not long ere the voice approached, and held conversation with myself, which, of course, was what I desired. After the usual preliminaries, I asked this spirit if he remembered the last conversation he and I had had together; to which he answered: “Yes, perfectly.” Q.; “If you remember that, can you tell me what it was about?” A.; “Do you mean to say you do not remember?” Q.; “I remember perfectly; but it would convince me much more that this was indeed you, Joe, if you could detail it to me.” A.; “Well, Do you remember I was showing you some photographic mining prints I had taken, and explained the various strata?” (This was exactly what took place.) Q.; “Yes that is quite correct. And now can you tell me where we had that conversation, and if anyone else was present besides ourselves?” A.; “It took place in this house.” Q.; “Yes but in which room?” A.; “In the library, and there was no other person present.” I may say that nobody, to my knowledge, ever knew of that conversation besides Joe Crowther and myself. The talk we had interested me greatly; hence my desire to know if he recollected it. Immediately after this conversation the trumpet was transferred to another spirit friend, and manifestations proceeded forthwith. At the same time my friend Joe continued to speak to me quite clearly, without the trumpet. I distinctly heard his voice, the voice of the trumpet, and Mrs. Wriedt’s voice (endeavouring to explain some message which the recipient could not

quite grasp); that is to say, three distinct voices speaking at once. I could detail the messages that almost everyone there received, but I am more concerned in detailing the manifestations I myself received, and shall not, therefore, go into other detail. The fact remains, they were all astonishingly convincing. Perhaps an instance might be mentioned. The little daughter of a gentleman there, after the usual distressing preliminary recognition’s, said: “You do not sing so much now, father. Do you think we might sing one of those songs we used to sing together?” On the father saying he would, there began surely on of the most extraordinary duets that was ever listened to. The Girl’s voice was clear and perfectly musical, and the song “Annie Laurie,” was rendered quite beautifully.

After a little while my uncle, John Hutchinson, who died a few months previously, spoke, and almost from the beginning I recognised him by a peculiar kind of laugh he had. The questions he answered were altogether satisfactory. I asked if my father was present, and, if so, I should like to speak to him. Shortly afterwards a voice spoke to me, and on requesting to know who it was that addressed me I was told it was my father. “If you are my father,” I said, “Tell me your full name.” The answer I received was not distinct, but I could practically grasp what was being said, and it was correct. The voice in this case, and at this stage, was not very strong and distinct, but gradually improved. I insisted on getting at least my father’s initials, and the answer was “J. M. M.” (John McGregor Munro). I then asked if any of the boys (meaning my brothers) were present, and I was told that the three of them were there; and the names, given me without hesitation, were correct and in their order of age, etc. I asked my father also if he could tell me when we had been speaking about him last (my father had been dead seventeen years), and he said, “Yes, this morning.” And detailed the subject that my mother and I had been discussing at breakfast time that day, which certainly no one could possibly have known of. Moreover, he told me a fact in connection with this conversation which I did not know, but which I verified when I arrived home. I should have liked to ask many more personal questions, but at that point the control was broken and the opportunity was lost. I can only say that the facts stated in the foregoing prove to my entire satisfaction that no fraud of any kind could possibly have occurred, but I must confess to a feeling of sadness that these meeting engendered. That is perhaps because of the fact that death is always the nature of a tragedy to us all and we are apt to picture the return of the spirits of those we held so dear in that category, without at the time being able to see beyond all that.

What I should like to know is more about this spirit world, which must be peopled by countless spirits; what domestic and social life exists; how long does the influence of this world hold them, and what, as spirits, are their aspirations, etc,. etc. And I trust that some day, by patient study and observation, I may be able to understand these most important questions—more important now to me by far than manifestations that spirits do exist.        (Signed)           Alex. Munro.

In reply to some questions from me Mr. Munro writes :—

202 Langside Road, Crosshill, Glasgow

Jan. 20, 1913

Dear Sir,—I duly received your letter of the 16^th inst., and quite appreciate your desire to investigate the various tests which I mentioned in my account of the sitting I had with Mrs. Wriedt……The sitting took place at my uncle’s house on July 25 or 26,