PART II: RECORDS OF 1913

In March, 1913, it was represented to me, by some people who had enjoyed sittings with Mrs. Etta Wriedt in the previous spring and early summer, that it was important she should be invited to England again; that, if I did not undertake the charge of her, she would probably fall into the hands of undesirable people, who would exploit her for their own advantage; and that I was the only person who could undertake the enterprise in a satisfactory manner. I hesitated for a week; I was averse to again going through the risk, the trouble, and the work of arranging and carrying out the details of her visit. It was easy for me to visit Detroit and attend séances at her own house. However, on reflection, I recognised that this would be a selfish course to adopt, and I reluctantly consented to repeat the experiment of 1912. I therefore wrote to Mrs. Wriedt inviting her to visit me in England, and stating certain terms which she might accept or reject as she thought fit; and followed this up by another letter requesting her to cable one of three messages: (1) “Accept”; (2) “Not); or (3) “On own.” The last was to mean she was coming on her own responsibility, and without any reference to my control or protection.

On April 4 I received a wire, “Accept—May 1”; the date as previously arranged, meant the date of arrival. Invitation circulars to expectant sitters were at once despatched, a guarantor fund was inaugurated, and Miss E. K. Harper was engaged by me as secretary and hostess. This lady, as everyone knows, was the late W. T. Stead’s private secretary; she had planned the séances for him in 1911, and for me, after his lamentable death in the Titanic, in 1912. She kindly consented to postpone her literary work, and perform a duty which she was well aware would be onerous—in the belief that she was thereby gratifying her former chief by carrying out a work he had very much at heart. Incidentally, she was pleased at being able to assist in bringing her numerous friends and acquaintances into touch with their spirit friends. I desire here to publicly thank her for her decision, and to honestly confess that I could not have worked the details without her experience and diligent co-operation. The duties she undertook proved more difficult than I had anticipated, from causes upon which I will not here dilate. Sufficient to say that, in loyalty to me, she persevered to the end; but I am certain that she will never accept the same duties again; nor do I wish her to do so. Mrs. Wriedt now understands English laws and customs; on her future visits she will arrange her séances and all other particulars herself.

I appointed the séances and private sittings in such a way as allowed of the psychic having two days and three evenings in the week entirely to herself. It is due to her to state that these periods of diversion and rest were not utilised by her, this year, in giving séances on her own account.

The high level of Mrs. Wriedt’s mediumship was maintained throughout the sixty days she was my guest. There were some blanks and some indifferent séances. All people who understand the conditions necessary for psychic investigation know that this is inevitable with first-class mediums; and some, including myself, believe it to be a sign of genuineness, for nobody is so annoyed on such occasions as Mrs. Wriedt herself. I was favoured with some advice from those who, obviously, considered that they could manage better than myself, specially on the subject of the psychic “sitting too often”; and was more than once reminded of Æsop’s fable of the man, his son, and

the donkey. My kind advisers were the disappointed sitters, and the advice reached me after the event. I noticed one curious fact. There were no criticisms from these experts during the previous year, when the medium sat for very many more people, and these particular guarantors were successful.

The visit was a success, and the last day was the best. I was by far the largest guarantor, and enjoyed to the full the benefit of Mrs. Wriedt’s mysterious gift, for I did not experience any blank sittings, and only two or three below the average. One of these was wholly inexplicable, as the conditions, so far as my poor judgment could determine, were perfect; the others I could account for.

Bad séances are generally due to one of four causes. Either the medium is disturbed in her mind about some imaginary grievance; the sitter or sitters are in bad health or low spirits; the atmospheric conditions are bad; or the sitter or sitters are disbelievers in anything they cannot determine by means of their normal senses. The latter factor can hardly account for any blank or poor séances in 1913, for there were but few strangers to the psychic allowed to guarantee. Great care was observed about this. Occasionally the blank is not to be accounted for by any known cause; but I think it possible that phenomena may be withheld by the medium’s controls with the object of teaching us that nothing mortals can do will ensure success: we must be content to take what we can get and be thankful.

Neither in 1912 nor 1913 nor on any occasion during the four and a-half years that I have known her, has Mrs. Wriedt been in any sort of trance. She talks volubly during the séances and private sittings , sometimes on indifferent subjects, such as the superiority of American customs or the cruel restrictions of Admiral Moore; but more frequently in giving names and clairvoyant descriptions to the sitters. She asserts that she sees names in the air, inverted, and very difficult to secure, as the first letter disappears before the last is properly formed. Not unfrequently the name of a spirit who wishes to be known is whispered into her right ear.

I brought Mrs. Wriedt to Cambridge House, Wimbledon, at 7.40 p.m. on May 2,1913. After supper, at her suggestion, we adjourned to the séance room and held a private sitting. After my two trumpets had been rinsed with water and the musical-box started, the lights were switched off, and phenomena at once commenced. Iola spoke first a few words of greeting; then Dr. Sharp, who brought with him another spirit: “Here is a lady who wishes to see you.” (Aside): “What did you say, madam?……Oh, this is a maiden lady who says her name is Searle. She says she lived near you when in life, and thought you were much deceived. Now, she has come to see if there is anything in it.” (Aside): “What is it?”……”Yes, yes; she also says that her niece is now doing her work, and doing it very well, but she does not wish you to tell her.” (A Miss Searle used to keep a small shop and post-office three hundred yards from my house. She passed over in September 1912. Her niece, Miss Holmes, is now keeping the shop. I never spoke to Miss Searle on the subject of spiritism, but she was no doubt aware that I lectured once a year at the temple in the town.)

W. T. Stead then manifested, and expressed pleasure at having influenced his widow to let me rent the house. It was the same voice I had been accustomed to hear in 1912. He said: “Tell Edith [Miss Harper] I am helping her all I can.” Black Hawk turned up, and Iola was present all the time. It was a cheery, delightful sitting, and lasted forty­five minutes.

As, from a public, critical standpoint, my testimony obviously weakens in value, in proportion to the number of times I have sat with Mrs. Wriedt, and it happens that I have enjoyed the benefit of her gift on over one hundred occasions, I do not propose recording more than two—one private sitting and one private circle séance. I sat alone with the medium twenty-five times while she was my guest, and engaged five private circles, to which I invited my friends. At my private sittings I received much information of an intimate character, all of it most convincing to me, but of no interest to others. The medium very rarely heard a single word spoken by Iola, nor did she usually see her. As far as I remember, my guide used the trumpet only once throughout the two months.

The private sitting I now describe is remarkable as a singularly good exhibition of the coarser type of physical phenomena. It took place on May 17, 10.55 to 11.40. I had my two trumpets in the room. One was marked with the letter “I” on all its sections; the other was marked “F.” They weigh thirteen ounces and eleven ounces respectively. Mrs. Wriedt’s trumpet was smaller than either, and weighs not more than eight or nine ounces; but she preferred, as a rule, using mine, made by Whitely.

On this occasion the trumpet “I” was telescoped and lying on the top shelf of a bookcase behind Mrs. Wriedt; “F” was standing between us; our chairs were five feet apart.

First, Dr. Sharp manifested immediately the lights were switched off, and spoke clearly, talking chiefly about the condition of Dr. Peebles (whom he called “Our Pilgrim”), then ill in London. Then there was a long silence, after which Iola spoke for five or six minutes, using my trumpet for part of the time. She was followed by Grayfeather, who, after a brief conversation, said: “I am going to show you something, Chief.” Take Mrs. Wriedt’s hands.” We both leaned forward in our chairs and clasped hands, her right hand in my left and my right hand in her left. There was a small square table one foot to my left, upon which stood a vase full of narcissi and water, weighing about three pounds. The room was pitch dark, as usual.

Presently a noise was heard as if a trumpet had fallen to the floor behind Mrs. Wriedt, then again dead silence. In, say, five minutes I heard Grayfeather’s voice from near the floor where the “F” trumpet had been standing between our extended arms: “Mrs. Wriedt, light up.” We disengaged our hands, the medium rose from her chair and switched on the lights. This is what we found: The small table standing two feet to my right; The vase of narcissi on the floor almost touching my right foot; Mrs. Wriedt’s trumpet standing on the floor to my left exactly underneath where we had last seen it in the light on the small table; my “F” trumpet telescoped and lying on the shelf of the bookcase near where I had last seen the “I” trumpet; and “I” trumpet, drawn out ready for use, standing on the floor where “F” ought to be, between our arms.

The Indian had betrayed his movements only when he took the “I” trumpet from the bookcase; the three sections were loose inside one another, and in drawing them out from the shelf he had let two of them fall to the floor. This it would be easy to do for anybody in full light. All his other movements were executed without my hearing the faintest sound. Mrs. Wriedt’s two hands were firmly clasped in my two hands from the moment Grayfeather had directed us “to take hands” to the moment he said, “Mrs. Wriedt, light up.”

This is the most complete instance of telekinesis in the dark which I ever remember having witnessed. The drawing out and placing of one aluminium trumpet and the collapsing of another without sound, is a marvellous feat; and the movement of the table, the vase, and the small trumpet is a hardly less striking phenomenon.

This ended the sitting.

The first private circle I held this year was on May 3, the day after the medium’s arrival. It consisted of six people besides the psychic, and, though the atmospheric conditions were not good, it was successful. Clouds of highly attenuated matter, faintly illumined, could be seen floating about the room, and the voices for most of the sitting were high (always a good sign). The Canadian gentleman who wrote in light two years ago under the name of Paul was one of my guests, another was my nephew, Mr. W., a clerk in the Bank of England, who attended a séance for the first time. As often happens, it was to this novice the principle evidence was given. I am assisted by his notes. The séance lasted for one hour and three-quarters. (The Canadian gentleman is the author of a series of articles in light, 1911, entitled “Comforting Spiritual Communion.” These interesting papers commenced in the issue of June 24, page 296, and continued for several months. They contain an account of his search for the spirit of a nun called Adela. We have been friends for six or seven years. After the séance we sat together twice privately, with Mrs. Wriedt, and obtained very remarkable results.)

Iola was visible to me, and manifested three times to Paul, who talked to her in French and English. Dr. Sharp, Grayfeather, and Blossom were much in evidence. I now quote from my nephew’s notes :—

At 7 p.m. we all entered the room, the musical-box was started and played “Come, all ye faithful” for two or three minutes. Mrs. Wriedt then began the Lord’s Prayer, in which we all joined. During the prayer I distinctly heard a voice mingling with ours, and the lady next to me said she heard several voices, not those of the sitters, join in the “Amen.”

We sat silently for a few moments in oppressive darkness. The first thing I noticed was a “cigar smoke” filmy light floating above the medium, which was followed by a strong white light at her feet; this seemed like a strong magnesium light. Almost immediately my head was brushed lightly by some flowers, and I felt a distinct pat on the head. Shortly after a bunch of flowers, which I found later to be a bunch of carnations, was pushed up from the ground close to my knee, and I found, by feeling down, that the stalks were sticking into the smaller end of one of the trumpets. I held the flowers in my left hand for the rest of the séance.

Just after this we heard a voice which I was told was Grayfeather’s. After talking to my uncle for a few seconds, he was introduced to me. The voice was opposite to me, and about a yard away; I fancy he was drawing from me. A conversation something like this took place: Grayfeather? “Hullo ! little chiefy!” W.: “How do you do Grayfeather? I have heard a lot about you, and am very glad to meet you.” G.: “I see you the other day.” W.: “Where did you see me?” G.: “I see you scratchem.” W.: “Oh, where was I scratchem?” G.: “In big place.” He then described the office in which I work at the bank fairly well, and said that it was two moons ago” that he saw me; he also asked me if I knew a name like De Lancy, De Vaney, or De Vine. I could not recall anyone of that name. I told him this, and he went on to talk about that

“scratchem” [Writing]. G.: “Somewhere in your topknot you think you leave that scratchem. You no go!” W.: “You think, Grayfeather, that I ought to stay there. Why?” G.: “You no go on water; land much better for you. You stay in London; good place London. You be big chief some day.” W.: “You think I shall get on?” G.: “Yes, you stay.”

Grayfeather then talked to my uncle again, but returned suddenly to me: “You have bad head?” W.: “Yes.” G.: “And bad eyes?” W.: “Yes, if there is connection between the two.” G.: “Yes, eyes make head tired.” W.: “Do you think I ought to see an eye doctor?” G.: “No, you put on ‘Modecamentum.’ You put some on your little finger and rub it into corner of your eye, near nose.” W.: “Thank you very much Grayfeather.” He also told me that he had seen me with a “squaw; much good for me, nice squaw.”

The next spirit to come was Iola, my uncle’s guide, to whom I was introduced. She came over to me and called me “third cousin” (I am her first cousin once removed). She evidently drew strength from me, and I could hardly hear her voice unless she left me and went to my uncle who was sitting next but one to me. She said that my grandmother and grandfather were very well and happy, and sent their love to me. I asked her who gave me the flowers. She replied: “Granny.” I asked her to thank her, and to say that I had put one in my buttonhole. My uncle was able to see Iola, but I could not.

Dr. Sharp came next, and sent love to my aunt Isabella; he said that he was glad she was better; that she had been very poorly during the winter. He also talked about “Modecamentum,” and repeated what Grayfeather had said about it; he added that it was a German medicine and good for kidney trouble if taken on a lump of sugar. He then introduced a spirit called R——, who was shy at talking and could not speak for himself at first. Dr. Sharp urged him to talk: “Do your own talking. I’m not going to speak for you.” He was soon identified as Sir G—— R——, the grandfather of my left hand neighbour and a distinguished naval officer under whom my uncle had served forty years ago; he spoke privately to both.

The guide of another sitter (Paul) came and talked to him in a very low voice for some time. Her name was Adela; my uncle was introduced to her. An ancestor also came to this gentleman and talked in broad Scotch.

At intervals between their voices I could clearly see spirit lights, which were floating about the room. The medium saw, at my knees, the form of a child, and another time an old lady called Margaret, in a cap. This latter might have been the wife of a cousin of mine. She also saw, in Roman figures, the number fifteen. At another time she saw a tall gentleman in gray clothes, age about twenty-three, clean shaven, who was trying to speak, and seemed to step towards me. I could not identify him.

A spirit now came who said he was “James.” After a few seconds he settled in front of me, and tried to make me understand him. I could only hear “James.” And nothing else. He groaned, went away for a minute, and then returned; he seemed very upset at not being able to make me hear him. J.: “James” (a blurred sound). W.: “Are you a relative of mine?” J.: “Yes.” W.: “Are you a relative of my father?” J.: “He is my son.” W.: “I am very glad to meet you, and hope you are happy. Can I give my father any message?” J.: “Tell him I am proud of him.” W.: “Yes, I will tell him.” J.: “Tell him I am proud of him and his wife and family. He has had a hard struggle, and you

are having a hard struggle too. I had a hard struggle.” W.: “Yes grandfather, I will tell him that too.” J.: “Tell him that I am very glad of this move he is making. It is a good thing.” W.: “Are you happy?” J.: “Yes, now, but God robbed me.” W.: “Of what did he rob you?” J.: “Of life, I had to leave my wife and family” (the spirit was obviously distressed on this point, so I said no more). W.: “Can you give any message for my father, so that he will recognise you?” J.: “Ask him if he remembers a chain and watch, a silver chain and watch?” W.: “Yes I’ll ask him.” J.: “Tell him to come here.” W.: “I don’t think he will do that, but I will tell him what you say.” J.: “Yes, tell him I am proud of him.” W.: “Will you come to me again?” No answer. (Pause.) J.: “May I touch you? Good-bye.” W.: “Yes, I’ll hold out my hand.” J.: “God bless you, my lad.” The spirit then touched me softly on the back of my hand; the touch was quite human to feel.

The next spirit to visit us was “Blossom,” who was known to my uncle. He said: “How old are you, Blossom?” She replied: “Two hundred years.” She had a high­pitched voice and a quaint laugh; presently she came to me. B.: “Hulloa. Little chief.” W.: “Hulloa Blossom.” B.: Who gave you that pin?” W.: “Ah, I shall not tell you that.” B.: “I know; plenty nice girl give it to you.” W.: “Well if you know, what was her name?” B.: “Mary.” W.: “No, quite wrong.” B.: “Then it was Fanny.” W.: “Wrong.” B.: “It was Mary.” W.: “It was not.” B.: “It came in a little box, a blue box, from Regent Street.” W.: “Yes.” B.: “You no got box now.” W.: “No, I do not think I have. What did I do with it?” B.: “You put it in bucket; no, in basket.” W.: “Yes, I think I did. What was I doing when I threw it away?” B.: “You clean em house.” W.: “Quite right. What else did I throw away?” B.: “Collars and two ties.” W.: “What did I do with them?” B.: “You gave them to squaw.” W.: “Quite right. What did she do with them?” B.: “She fix up good ones and threw bad ones away.” W.: “Who is telling you all this?” B. (indignantly): “No one.” W.: “Who dropped that water on my hand just now?” B.: “Iola. She arranging flowers. Good-bye.” Some more followed of no import.

(My sister Isabella is known to Dr. Sharp, for she and Mrs. Wriedt spent a day together in 1911. My brother-in-law tells me his father, James W., died in 1866, aged fifty-eight years; that he always wore a silver watch, which was very unusual at that time. He was about to move from one house to another. Blossom’s chatter about my nephew giving away an empty box and some old collars, during house-cleaning, to the servant (squaw) was very apt. Mr. W, suffers much in his eyes. Of the “plenty nice girl” we shall hear more later.)

On May 24. I invited Mr. W., who had never been to a séance before. It was a very good séance; but I am unable to record the whole of it, as two of my guests are opposed to any publicity about their spirit visitors. In the middle of the séance Blossom manifested, and addressed Mr. W.:—

“Hulloa Chiefy! I come to see my smash” (mash). (I now quote from Mr. W.’s notes.) “Who is that Blossom?” The voice then approached me, and laughed: “Ah hi!” W.; “Am I your mash?” B.; “Yep.” W.: “Thank you Blossom.” B.: “Plenty nice letter you had yesterday” (here she made some weird noises). W.: “Yes, very nice. You were not quite right last time I met you about that pin. It was not bought in Regent Street.” B.: “Oxford Street, then.” W.: “Yes, that’s better.” (Blossom then went on to my uncle, who chaffed her about a previous sitting, when she complained that he had “pinched

her” the moment after he had touched the trumpet.) B.: “Good-bye all; good-bye, mash. Ah hi!”

Grayfeather came to my brother, and said: “How’s stripes?” (an allusion to his uniform). A.U.W.; “Two, thanks very much.” G.: “I see you with three soon.” A.U.W..: “Oh, not just yet.” G.: “Not so very long!” A.U.W.: “I’ve got to wait a long time yet.”

Grayfeather talked to me for a short time about my eyes.

(The notes of my young relative are most correct. The “Weird noises” were soon explained; the brother told me they were osculatory attempts. I walked down to the station with Mr. W., and he told me that he had become engaged to be married the day before. The letter he had received contained the final acceptance. But the young lady objected to spiritism, so he could not again accept my invitation. Later on, I told Blossom the reason “her mash” could not attend, and she said: “Ah hi; tell him I love her all the same.” Mrs. Wriedt knew nothing, and knows nothing to this moment, of these young men or their occupations. Grayfeather’s knowledge of the distinctive marks of naval uniform was shown once last year.)

Before closing my own account, which I purposely make brief for reasons I have already given, it is necessary to relate a detail of a curious sitting I had alone with Mrs. Wriedt on Tuesday, May 20, 10.50 to 11.45 a.m. After the sitting, which was a very good one, had been going on for half-an-hour, a voice that I had never heard before spoke through the trumpet in clear, deliberate tones, without any hesitation: “Sidgwick :—Tell Barrett that the young man who spoke to him was (George?) Alexander’s son, who died of blood poisoning.” Question: “Why did you not come to Barrett?” Answer: “I did not know he was here.” John King was present at this sitting. When it was over, Mrs. Wriedt and I differed about the Christian name of Alexander (the sitting had been one full of incident to me). After lunch Mrs. Jacob arrived for a private sitting, and I asked her, if she had the opportunity, to persuade John King (if present) to give her the name again, and all details that he could. John King did manifest, and she wrote down all that he told her. When she came into the light she copied the script for me. I have before me this paper, and also the original scribble in the dark. It runs thus:—

Harold B. Alexander, died of blood poisoning, 17 years old, 13 Carrag (or Carrack, or Carrac) Head, son of John Thomas Alexander, lived in Dublin, Leinster Road, Sir William Barrett.

When Mrs. Jacob sent me the original scribble on May 28, she wrote that John King was uncertain about the spelling of “Carrag”; he corrected her when she thought it was Sir William Barrett who lived in Dublin; and, that he spelt out “Leinster” letter by letter.

I reported the above message to Sir William Barrett at Kingtown, co. Dublin, who at once informed me that he had found in the directory the name of Dr. Thomas John Alexander, 149 Leinster Road, Dublin, and that he had approached him on the subject. His sittings had been unsuccessful, and he was not aware of any boy having manifested to him. Two days afterwards he sent me the following note, which he had received from Dr. Alexander:—

My boy, Harold Beresford, died at sea on April 18 last of blood poisoning. He was serving as “middy” on board the ss. Carrigan Head, and was on his way home from New Orleans. He was sixteen years of age in August last. His death was announced in the Irish Times about (I think) a week afterwards, and all the above particulars except his birth month were given in the notice.

(Signed)                       T. J. Alexander