a time when one or more sensitives have not been able to demonstrate it.
Fig. 1.—Impression received upon a marked plate which never left the author’s hands, save when in carrier. (See p. 21.)
Fig. 2.—Specimen of Archdeacon Colley’s writing during his lifetime. (See p. 22.)
Fig. 3.—Psychograph in the handwriting of Dr. W. J. Crawford. (See p. 25.)
Fig. 4.—Specimen of Dr. W. J. Crawford’s writing during his lifetime.
Hope was greatly surprised at his own results, but he had the good fortune in early days to meet the late Archdeacon Colley, an enlightened member of the Anglican Church, who tested his powers, endorsed them and appreciated their value. It was he who gave Hope his first stand camera, the old-fashioned instrument to which he still clings, and which, with its battered box and broken leg, is familiar to many of us.
No one knows the story of these beginnings so well as Miss Scatcherd, who was the intimate friend of the Archdeacon and shared the evidence which had so impressed him. Miss Scatcherd has kindly consented to jot down her reminiscences of these early days, that I may include them in the later pages of this volume.
Suffice it if I say, at present, that Hope has been before the public for seventeen years, that during that time many special tests have been demanded of him and have been successfully met, that he has been closely observed by experts of all sorts—scientific men (including Sir William Crookes), journalists, professional photographers and others—that he has patiently submitted himself to all sorts of experiment, and that he has emerged from this most drastic ordeal with the complete support and approval of far the greater part of his clients. That he has been fiercely attacked goes without saying, for every medium has that experience, but each fresh allegation against him has ended in smoke, while his gifts have grown stronger with time, so that the percentage of blanks in his results is, I should say, lower than it used to be. No medium can ever honestly guarantee success, but it would probably be within the mark if one claimed that Hope attained it three times out of five, though the results vary much in visibility and value, being mere vague outlines in some cases, and in others so detailed in their perfection that the extra is clearer and more life-like than the sitter. These variations seem to depend upon the state of health of the medium, the qualities of the investigator, the atmospheric conditions and other obscure causes.
In person, Hope is a man who gives the impression of being between fifty and sixty years of age, with the manner and appearance of an intelligent working-man. His forehead is high and indicates a good, if untrained, brain beneath it. The general effect of his face is aquiline with large, well-opened, honest blue eyes, and a moustache which is shading from yellow to grey. His voice is pleasant, with a North Country accent which becomes very pronounced when he is excited. His hands with their worn nails and square-ended fingers are those of the worker, and the least adapted to sleight-of-hand tricks of any that I have seen.
Mrs. Buxton, who aids him, is a kindly, pleasant-faced woman on the sunny side of middle-age. Her mediumistic powers seem to be akin to those of Hope, and though the latter had all his earlier results independently, he is stronger when he combines his forces with Mrs. Buxton’s.
They both give an impression of honesty and frankness, which increases as one comes to know them more closely. I have never met two people who seemed to me from manner and appearance to be less likely to be in a conspiracy to deceive the public.
They and all their circle are spiritualists of a Salvation Army type, much addicted to the hearty singing of hymns and the putting up of impromptu prayers. Hope, the most unconventional of beings, has been known in the midst of one of his photographic lectures (which he delivers occasionally in his shirt-sleeves) to say, “And now, my friends, we will warm up with a hymn,” in which the audience, unable to escape, has to acquiesce. It is a type of character which associates itself sometimes, I admit, with a loathsome form of hypocrisy, but which has in it something peculiarly childlike and sweet when it is perfectly honest and spontaneous as it is, to the best of my belief, in the case of the two mediums in question.
Some prejudice can be excited against Hope by the mere assertion that he is a professional medium. The public is aware that fraud—sometimes unhappily real, sometimes only alleged—is too often associated with this profession. Sufficient allowance is not made for the fact that the papers only take note of psychic things when they go wrong, and never when they go right. The dishonest medium is so easily found out that one could hardly make a living at so precarious a trade.
In a very extended experience, which covers many hundreds of séances, I have only encountered fraud three or four times. Had I registered those cases and omitted the others, I would have given the impression of continued fraud, which is exactly how the matter is presented to the public who are continually hoodwinked, not by the spiritualists but by the critics and so-called “exposers” who represent what is exceptional as being constant.
It is exactly this prejudice which prevents a medium or his friends from bringing an action for libel, so that the unhappy man or woman becomes a butt for any charge or any ridicule, the assailants knowing well that the ordinary legal rights of a Briton are hardly applicable to one who can be represented as living from a profession which is not recognised by our laws. This cowardly medium-baiting will cease only when the public show, by abstaining from the purchase of the journals which pursue it, that they have no sympathy with such persecutions.
I would wish to point out, however, that Hope is not in a strict sense a professional medium. I have never met anyone who seemed to me less venal than he. I am aware of a case where an exploiter approached him with a proposal to turn his gift into money, but was received in the coldest possible manner. Twice when I have sat with him at Crewe he has refused to take a fee, though he could never have known that the fact would be made public. It is true that on each occasion I disregarded him to the extent of leaving some remembrance upon the mantelpiece when his back was turned, but I have been assured by others that he has again and again refused all remuneration for his sitting, and has charged the ridiculous sum of 4s. 6d. per dozen for prints from the negatives obtained. This sum is calculated upon the average time expended at the rate of his own trade earnings. I do not wish to overstate this side of the question or to pretend that he would not be open to a present from a grateful client. Of how many of us could that be honestly said? But my point is that his gifts have been as open to the poor as to the rich—which all spiritual gifts should be.
It is, of course, another matter when he comes to London and gives sittings by appointment at the British College of Psychic Science. That college is an expensive and most useful establishment, which is run, with a yearly deficit, through the generosity of Mr. and Mrs. Hewat McKenzie, and it is only right that those who use it should contribute an adequate sum to its maintenance.
To illustrate my remarks upon Hope’s character and the general lines upon which the Crewe Circle is conducted, I would like to give this extract from the letter of a miner, Mr. East, of 36, New Street, Port Talbot, who describes an experience which he had in 1920. After giving an account of the precautions taken, and of the appearance upon the plate of his son’s face: [See Figure 11.]
“Hundreds of persons who knew him have seen the photo and recognised him.” He adds: “When I asked what their charges were, Mr. Hope replied: ‘Four and sixpence a dozen. For the sitting, nothing. This is a gift from God and we dare not charge for what is freely given us. Our pay is often the wonder and joy depicted on the faces of those, like yourselves,