Chapter VI

VI. A. This case is taken from _Phantasms of the Living_, vol. ii. p. 94, having been contributed by Colonel Bigge, of 2 Morpeth Terrace, S.W., who took the account out of a sealed envelope, in Gurney's presence, for the first time since it was written on the day of the occurrence.

An account of a circumstance which occurred to me when quartered at
Templemore, Co. Tipperary, on 20th February 1847.

This afternoon, about 3 o'clock P.M., I was walking from my
quarters towards the mess-room to put some letters into the
letter-box, when I distinctly saw Lieut.-Colonel Reed, 70th
Regiment, walking from the corner of the range of buildings
occupied by the officers towards the mess-room door; and I saw him
go into the passage. He was dressed in a brown shooting-jacket,
with grey summer regulation tweed trousers, and had a fishing-rod
and a landing-net in his hand. Although at the time I saw him he
was about 15 or 20 yards from me, and although anxious to speak to
him at the moment, I did not do so, but followed him into the
passage and turned into the ante-room on the left-hand side, where
I expected to find him. On opening the door, to my great surprise,
he was not there; the only person in the room was Quartermaster
Nolan, 70th Regiment, and I immediately asked him if he had seen
the colonel, and he replied he had not; upon which I said, "I
suppose he has gone upstairs," and I immediately left the room.
Thinking he might have gone upstairs to one of the officers' rooms,
I listened at the bottom of the stairs and then went up to the
first landing-place; but not hearing anything I went downstairs
again and tried to open the bedroom door, which is opposite to the
ante-room, thinking he might have gone there; but I found the door
locked, as it usually is in the middle of the day. I was very much
surprised at not finding the colonel, and I walked into the
barrack-yard and joined Lieutenant Caulfield, 66th Regiment, who
was walking there; and I told the story to him, and particularly
described the dress in which I had seen the colonel. We walked up
and down the barrack-yard talking about it for about ten minutes,
when, to my great surprise, never having kept my eye from the door
leading to the mess-room (there is only one outlet from it), I saw
the colonel walk into the barracks through the gate--which is in
the opposite direction--accompanied by Ensign Willington, 70th
Regiment, in precisely the same dress in which I had seen him, and
with a fishing-rod and a landing-net in his hand. Lieutenant
Caulfield and I immediately walked to them, and we were joined by
Lieut.-Colonel Goldie, 66th Regiment, and Captain Hartford, and I
asked Colonel Reed if he had not gone into the mess-room about ten
minutes before. He replied that he certainly had not, for that he
had been out fishing for more than two hours at some ponds about a
mile from the barracks, and that he had not been near the mess-room
at all since the morning.

At the time I saw Colonel Reed going into the mess-room I was not
aware that he had gone out fishing--a very unusual thing to do at
this time of the year; neither had I seen him before in the dress I
have described during that day. I had seen him in uniform in the
morning at parade, but not afterwards at all until 3
o'clock--having been engaged in my room writing letters, and upon
other business. My eyesight being very good, and the colonel's
figure and general appearance somewhat remarkable, it is morally
impossible that I could have mistaken any other person in the world
for him. That I _did_ see him I shall continue to believe until the
last day of my existence.

WILLIAM MATTHEW BIGGE, Major, 70th Regiment.

[On July 17th, 1885, after Colonel Bigge had described the
occurrence but before the account was taken from the envelope and
read, he dictated the following remarks to Gurney:--]

When Colonel R. got off the car about a couple of hours afterwards,
Colonel Goldie and other officers said to me, "Why, that's the very
dress you described." They had not known where he was or how he was
engaged. The month, February, was a most unlikely one to be fishing
in. Colonel Reed was much alarmed when told what I had seen.

The quartermaster, sitting at the window, would have been bound to
see a real figure; he denied having seen anything.

I have never had the slightest hallucination of the senses on any
other occasion.

[It will be seen that these recent remarks exhibit two slips of
memory. It is quite unimportant whether Colonel Reed was seen
walking in at the gate or getting off a car. But in making the
interval between the vision and the return two hours instead of ten
minutes, the later account unduly diminishes the force of the case.
If there is any justification at all for the provisional hypothesis
that the sense of impending arrival is a condition favourable for
the emission of a telepathic influence, it is of importance that,
at the time when the phantasmal form was seen, Colonel Reed was not
busy with his fishing, but was rapidly approaching his destination;
for thus the incident, at any rate, gets the benefit of analogy
with other cases.]

VI. B. From the _Journal_ S.P.R., vol. vi. p. 129. The case is recorded by the Misses H. M. and L. Bourne.

Additional evidence of the hallucinatory character of the figure seen is afforded by the details having been more clearly discernible than those of a real figure at the same distance would have been, and also by the second appearance, where the percipient had the impression of being transported to a different scene.

Miss L. Bourne writes:--

On February 5th, 1887, my father, sister, and I went out hunting.
About the middle of the day my sister and I decided to return home
with the coachman, while my father went on. Somebody came and spoke
to us, and delayed us for a few moments. As we were turning to go
home, we distinctly saw my father, waving his hat to us and signing
us to follow him. He was on the side of a small hill, and there was
a dip between him and us. My sister, the coachman, and myself all
recognised my father, and also the horse. The horse looked so dirty
and shaken that the coachman remarked he thought there had been a
nasty accident. As my father waved his hat I clearly saw the
Lincoln and Bennett mark inside, though from the distance we were
apart it ought to have been utterly impossible for me to have seen
it. At the time I mentioned seeing the mark in the hat, though the
strangeness of seeing it did not strike me till afterwards.

Fearing an accident, we hurried down the hill. From the nature of
the ground we had to lose sight of my father, but it took us very
few seconds to reach the place where we had seen him. When we got
there, there was no sign of him anywhere, nor could we see anyone
in sight at all. We rode about for some time looking for him, but
could not see or hear anything of him. We all reached home within a
quarter of an hour of each other. My father then told us he had
never been in the field, nor near the field, in which we thought we
saw him, the whole of that day. He had never waved to us, and had
met with no accident.

My father was riding the only white horse that was out that day.

LOUISA BOURNE. H. M. Bourne.

The second signature was added later, with the words: "This was written by my sister and me together."

Miss H. M. Bourne enclosed the above in the following letter to Mrs. Dent, to whom we are indebted for the case:--

WESTON SUBEDGE, BROADWAY, WORCESTERSHIRE, _May 21st, 1891_.

MY DEAR MRS. DENT,--Louisa has asked me send you the enclosed
account of the impression she, the coachman, and I had of seeing
papa on Paddy in the hunting-field. It was on the 5th February 1887
it happened, and in March the same year, when I was out walking
alone, I thought I saw papa and Paddy stop at a little plantation
of his close to, and look at the wall, which had fallen in [in] one
part. He then appeared to ride a few yards towards me, but
afterwards turned round and went back past the plantation and out
of sight. When I went in I asked him if he had not seen me, and why
he turned back, when it transpired he had not been past that
plantation all day, but had ridden home another way. He said it
must have been some one else on a white horse, and asked where I
was when I saw him, and then, not before, it dawned on me that it
was utterly impossible to see either plantation or wall from where
I was. Since then I have often been along the same road, and stood,
and looked, and wondered how it was I so distinctly saw the broken
wall and papa on the white horse; a turn in the road makes my
having really done so quite impossible. I am sorry I cannot give
you the exact date of this: I know it was in March 1887, but cannot
remember the day, except that it was _not_ on the 5th. The other
"experience" is, I always think, far more interesting, as having
been seen by three, and also from the fact that Paddy was the only
white or grey horse in the hunting-field that day; so that
unbelievers could not say it was some one else on a white horse
that we had mistaken....

NINA M. BOURNE.

Mrs. Sidgwick writes:--

_February 25th, 1892._

I saw Miss H. Bourne and her father this afternoon. Miss Bourne
told me the stories of her seeing her father, first with her
sister, and later by herself, and signed the account which she and
her sister had, she says, made out together about it. The groom who
saw the figure at the same time has since been dismissed, and
cannot be asked for his evidence. Canon Bourne remembers hearing of
the matter the day it happened. The groom rode up to the ladies as
they were looking, and said: "The Canon is beckoning, Miss, and I
think you had better go to him; his horse looks as if he had had a
fall" (that is, muddy). The figure was beckoning to them with their
father's usual (and peculiar) gesture. He is a heavy man, and his
white horse, adapted to carry weight, was quite unlike any other
horse in the neighbourhood. Every one agrees as to the
impossibility of mistaking the horse. The horses of the
neighbourhood were well known to the neighbourhood in general and
to the Miss Bournes in particular, as they were at that time
constantly out with the hounds. The incident seems quite
unaccountable.

VI. C. From _Phantasms of the Living_, vol. i. p. 214. We received the first account of this case--the percipient's evidence--through the kindness of Mrs. Martin, of Ham Court, Upton-on-Severn, Worcester.

ANTONY, TORPOINT, _December 14th, 1882_.

Helen Alexander (maid to Lady Waldegrave) was lying here very ill
with typhoid fever, and was attended by me. I was standing at the
table by her bedside, pouring out her medicine, at about 4 o'clock
in the morning of the 4th October 1880. I heard the call-bell ring
(this had been heard twice before during the night in that same
week), and was attracted by the door of the room opening, and by
seeing a person entering the room whom I instantly felt to be the
mother of the sick woman. She had a brass candlestick in her hand,
a red shawl over her shoulders, and a flannel petticoat on which
had a hole in the front. I looked at her as much as to say, "I am
glad you have come," but the woman looked at me sternly, as much as
to say, "Why wasn't I sent for before?" I gave the medicine to
Helen Alexander, and then turned round to speak to the vision, but
no one was there. She had gone. She was a short, dark person, and
very stout. At about 6 o'clock that morning Helen Alexander died.
Two days after her parents and a sister came to Antony, and arrived
between 1 and 2 o'clock in the morning; I and another maid let them
in, and it gave me a great turn when I saw the living likeness of
the vision I had seen two nights before. I told the sister about
the vision, and she said that the description of the dress exactly
answered to her mother's, and that they had brass candlesticks at
home exactly like the one described. There was not the slightest
resemblance between the mother and daughter.

FRANCES REDDELL.

This at first sight might be taken for a mere delusion of an excitable or over-tired servant, modified and exaggerated by the subsequent sight of the real mother. If such a case is to have evidential force, we must ascertain beyond doubt that the description of the experience was given in detail before any knowledge of the reality can have affected the percipient's memory or imagination. This necessary corroboration has been kindly supplied by Mrs. Pole-Carew, of Antony, Torpoint, Devonport.

_December 31st, 1883._

In October, 1880, Lord and Lady Waldegrave came with their Scotch
maid, Helen Alexander, to stay with us. [The account then describes
how Helen was discovered to have caught typhoid fever.] She did not
seem to be very ill in spite of it, and as there seemed no fear of
danger, and Lord and Lady Waldegrave had to go a long journey the
following day (Thursday), they decided to leave her, as they were
advised to do, under their friend's care.

The illness ran its usual course, and she seemed to be going on
perfectly well till the Sunday week following, when the doctor told
me that the fever had left her, but the state of weakness which had
supervened was such as to make him extremely anxious. I immediately
engaged a regular nurse, greatly against the wish of Reddell, my
maid, who had been her chief nurse all through the illness, and who
was quite devoted to her. However, as the nurse could not
conveniently come till the following day, I allowed Reddell to sit
up with Helen again that night, to give her the medicine and food,
which were to be taken constantly.

At about 4.30 that night, or rather Monday morning, Reddell looked
at her watch, poured out the medicine, and was bending over the bed
to give it to Helen, when the call-bell in the passage rang. She
said to herself, "There's that tiresome bell with the wire caught
again." (It seems it did occasionally ring of itself in this
manner.) At that moment, however, she heard the door open and,
looking round, saw a very stout old woman walk in. She was dressed
in a night-gown and red flannel petticoat, and carried an
old-fashioned brass candlestick in her hand. The petticoat had a
hole rubbed in it. She walked into the room, and appeared to be
going towards the dressing-table to put her candle down. She was a
perfect stranger to Reddell, who, however, merely thought, "This is
her mother come to see after her," and she felt quite glad it was
so, accepting the idea without reasoning upon it, as one would in a
dream. She thought the mother looked annoyed, possibly at not
having been sent for before. She then gave Helen the medicine, and
turning round, found that the apparition had disappeared, and that
the door was shut. A great change, meanwhile, had taken place in
Helen, and Reddell fetched me, who sent off for the doctor, and
meanwhile applied hot poultices, etc., but Helen died a little
before the doctor came. She was quite conscious up to about half an
hour before she died, when she seemed to be going to sleep.

During the early days of her illness, Helen had written to a
sister, mentioning her being unwell, but making nothing of it, and
as she never mentioned any one but this sister, it was supposed by
the household, to whom she was a perfect stranger, that she had no
other relation alive. Reddell was always offering to write for her,
but she always declined, saying there was no need, she would write
herself in a day or two. No one at home, therefore, knew anything
of her being so ill, and it is, therefore, remarkable, that her
mother, a far from nervous person, should have said that evening
going up to bed, "I am sure Helen is very ill."

Reddell told me and my daughter of the apparition, about an hour
after Helen's death, prefacing with, "I am not superstitious, or
nervous, and I wasn't the least frightened, but her mother came
last night," and she then told the story, giving a careful
description of the figure she had seen. The relations were asked to
come to the funeral, and the father, mother, and sister came, and
in the mother Reddell recognised the apparition, as I did also, for
Reddell's description had been most accurate, even to the
expression, which she had ascribed to annoyance, but which was due
to deafness. It was judged best not to speak about it to the
mother, but Reddell told the sister, who said the description of
the figure corresponded exactly with the probable appearance of her
mother if roused in the night; that they had exactly such a
candlestick at home, and that there was a hole in her mother's
petticoat produced by the way she always wore it. It seems curious
that neither Helen nor her mother appeared to be aware of the
visit. Neither of them, at any rate, ever spoke of having seen the
other, nor even of having dreamt of having done so.

F. A. POLE-CAREW.

[Frances Reddell states that she has never had any hallucination,
or any odd experience of any kind, except on this one occasion. The
Hon. Mrs. Lyttelton, formerly of Selwyn College, Cambridge, who
knows her, tells us that "she appears to be a most matter-of-fact
person, and was apparently most impressed by the fact that she saw
a hole in the mother's flannel petticoat, made by the busk of her
stays, reproduced in the apparition."]

Now what I imagine to have happened here is this. The mother, anxious about her daughter, paid her a psychical visit during the sleep of both. In so doing she actually modified a certain portion of space, not materially nor optically, but in such a manner that persons perceptive in a certain fashion would discern in that part of space an image approximately corresponding to the conception of her own aspect latent in the invading mother's mind. A person thus susceptible happened to be in the room, and thus, as a bystander, witnessed a psychical invasion whose memory the invader apparently did not retain, while the invaded person--the due percipient--may or may not have perceived it in a dream, but died and left no sign of having done so.

VI. D. From the "Report on the Census of Hallucinations," _Proceedings_ S.P.R., vol. x. p. 332. The account is given by Mrs. McAlpine.

GARSCADDEN, BEARDSDEN, GLASGOW, _April 20th, 1892_.

I remember in the June of 1889, I drove to Castleblaney, a little
town in the county Monaghan, to meet my sister, who was coming by
train from Longford. I expected her at three o'clock, but as she
did not come with that train, I got the horse put up, and went for
a walk in the demesne. The day was very warm and bright, and I
wandered on under the shade of the trees to the side of a lake,
which is in the demesne. Being at length tired, I sat down to rest
upon a rock, at the edge of the water. My attention was quite taken
up with the extreme beauty of the scene before me. There was not a
sound or movement, except the soft ripple of the water on the sand
at my feet. Presently I felt a cold chill creep through me, and a
curious stiffness of my limbs, as if I _could_ not move, though
wishing to do so. I felt frightened, yet chained to the spot, and
as if impelled to stare at the water straight in front of me.
Gradually a black cloud seemed to rise, and in the midst of it I
saw a tall man, in a suit of tweed, jump into the water and sink.

In a moment the darkness was gone, and I again became sensible of
the heat and sunshine, but I was awed and felt "eerie"--it was then
about four o'clock or so--I cannot remember either the exact time
or date. On my sister's arrival I told her of the occurrence; she
was surprised, but inclined to laugh at it. When we got home I told
my brother; he treated the subject much in the same manner.
However, about a week afterwards, Mr. Espie, a bank clerk (unknown
to me), committed suicide by drowning in that very spot. He left a
letter for his wife, indicating that he had for some time
contemplated his death. My sister's memory of the event is the only
evidence I can give. I did not see the account of the inquest at
the time, and did not mention my strange experience to any one,
saving my sister and brother.

F. C. MCALPINE.

Mrs. McAlpine's sister writes:--

ROXBORO', _February 15th, 1892_.

I remember perfectly you meeting me in Castleblaney, on my way home
from Longford, and telling me of the strange thing which happened
in the demesne. You know you were always hearing or seeing
something and I paid little attention; but I remember it
distinctly--your troubled expression more than the story. You said
a tall gentleman, dressed in tweed, walked past you, and went into
a little inlet or creek. I think, but am not sure, that you said he
had a beard. You were troubled about it, or looked so; and I talked
of other things. You told me while we were driving home. I think,
but I am not sure, that it was about the 25th or 27th of June 1889
that I left Longford. I am sure of that being the day, but cannot
remember the date. _It was in June_, and on the 3rd of July, 1889,
a Mr. Espie, a bank clerk, drowned himself in the lake in the
demesne in 'Blaney. I have no doubt that the day I came home you
saw Mr. Espie's "fetch."

The following account is taken from a local paper, the _Northern Standard_, Saturday, July 6th, 1889:--

_Sad Case of Suicide._--The town of Castleblaney was put into a
fearful state of excitement when it became known on Wednesday last
that Mr. Espy had committed suicide by drowning himself in the lake
in the demesne. Latterly, he was noticed to be rather dull and low
in spirits, but no serious notice was taken of his conduct, nor had
any one the most remote idea that he contemplated suicide. On
Wednesday morning he seemed in his usual health, and, as was
customary with him, walked down to get his newspaper on the arrival
of the 9.45 train from Dublin. He met Mr. Fox (in whose office he
has been for years) at the station, and having procured his paper
walked up to the office, wrote a note in which he stated what he
was going to do, and indicating where his body would be found. This
seemed to concern him a good deal, for he seemed very anxious that
his body should be recovered without any delay. He had
fishing-tackle in his pocket, and having tied one end of a
pike-line to a tree, and the other end round one of his legs, he
threw himself into about three feet deep of water, where he was
found shortly afterwards quite dead, and before the note that he
had left in the office had been opened.

It would be possible, no doubt, to explain this appearance as simply precognitive--as a picture from the future impressed in some unknown way upon the percipient's inner vision. There are certain cases which strongly suggest this extreme hypothesis. But it seems here simpler to assume that the unhappy man was already imagining his plunge into the lake when Mrs. McAlpine visited the shore, and that his intense thought effected a self-projection, conscious or unconscious, of some element of his being.

VI. E. From _Phantasms of the Living_, vol. ii. p. 239. Mrs. Elgee, of 18 Woburn Road, Bedford, gave the following account:--

_March 1st, 1885._

In the month of November 1864, being detained in Cairo, on my way
out to India, the following curious circumstance occurred to me:--

Owing to an unusual influx of travellers, I, with the young lady
under my charge (whom we will call D.) and some other passengers of
the outward-bound mail to India, had to take up our abode in a
somewhat unfrequented hotel. The room shared by Miss D. and myself
was large, lofty, and gloomy; the furniture of the scantiest,
consisting of two small beds, placed nearly in the middle of the
room and not touching the walls at all, two or three rush-bottomed
chairs, a very small washing stand, and a large old-fashioned sofa
of the settee sort, which was placed against one half of the large
folding doors which gave entrance to the room. This settee was far
too heavy to be removed, unless by two or three people. The other
half of the door was used for entrance, and faced the two beds.
Feeling rather desolate and strange, and Miss D. being a nervous
person, I locked the door, and, taking out the key, put it under my
pillow; but on Miss D. remarking that there might be a duplicate
which could open the door from outside, I put a chair against the
door, with my travelling bag on it, so arranged that, on any
pressure outside, one or both must fall on the bare floor, and make
noise enough to rouse me. We then proceeded to retire to bed, the
one I had chosen being near the only window in the room, which
opened with two glazed doors, almost to the floor. These doors, on
account of the heat, I left open, first assuring myself that no
communication from the outside could be obtained. The window led on
to a small balcony, which was isolated, and was three stories above
the ground.

I suddenly woke from a sound sleep with the impression that
somebody had called me, and, sitting up in bed, to my unbounded
astonishment, by the clear light of early dawn coming in through
the large window before mentioned, I beheld the figure of an old
and very valued friend whom I knew to be in England. He appeared as
if most eager to speak to me, and I addressed him with, "Good
gracious! how did you come here?" So clear was the figure, that I
noted every detail of his dress, even to three onyx shirt-studs
which he always wore. He seemed to come a step nearer to me, when
he suddenly pointed across the room, and on my looking round, I saw
Miss D. sitting up in her bed, gazing at the figure with every
expression of terror. On looking back, my friend seemed to shake
his head, and retreated step by step, slowly, till he seemed to
sink through that portion of the door where the settee stood. I
never knew what happened to me after this; but my next remembrance
is of bright sunshine pouring through the window. Gradually the
remembrance of what had happened came back to me, and the question
arose in my mind, had I been dreaming, or had I seen a visitant
from another world?--the bodily presence of my friend being utterly
impossible. Remembering that Miss D. had seemed aware of the figure
as well as myself, I determined to allow the test of my dream or
vision to be whatever she said to me upon the subject, I intending
to say nothing to her unless she spoke to me. As she seemed still
asleep, I got out of bed, examined the door carefully, and found
the chair and my bag untouched, and the key under my pillow; the
settee had not been touched nor had that portion of the door
against which it was placed any appearance of being opened for
years.

Presently, on Miss D. waking up, she looked about the room, and,
noticing the chair and bag, made some remark as to their not having
been much use. I said, "What do you mean?" and then she said, "Why,
that man who was in the room this morning must have got in
somehow." She then proceeded to describe to me exactly what I
myself had seen. Without giving any satisfactory answer as to what
I had seen, I made her rather angry by affecting to treat the
matter as a fancy on her part, and showed her the key still under
my pillow, and the chair and bag untouched. I then asked her, if
she was so sure that she had seen somebody in the room, did not she
know who it was? "No," said she, "I have never seen him before, nor
any one like him." I said, "Have you ever seen a photograph of
him?" She said, "No." This lady never was told what I saw, and yet
described exactly to a third person what we both had seen.

Of course, I was under the impression my friend was dead. Such,
however, was not the case; and I met him some four years later,
when, without telling him anything of my experience in Cairo, I
asked him, in a joking way, could he remember what he was doing on
a certain night in November 1864. "Well," he said, "you require me
to have a good memory;" but after a little reflection he replied,
"Why, that was the time I was so harassed with trying to decide for
or against the appointment which was offered me, and I so much
wished you could have been with me to talk the matter over. I sat
over the fire quite late, trying to think what you would have
advised me to do." A little cross-questioning and comparing of
dates brought out the curious fact that, allowing for the
difference of time between England and Cairo, his meditations over
the fire and my experience were simultaneous. Having told him the
circumstances above narrated, I asked him had he been aware of any
peculiar or unusual sensation. He said none, only that he had
wanted to see me very much.

E. H. ELGEE.

In answer to inquiries, Mrs. Elgee says:--

I fear it is quite impossible to get any information from Miss D.
She married soon after we reached India, and I never met her since,
nor do I know where she is, if alive. I quite understand the value
of her corroboration; and at the time she told the whole
circumstance to a fellow-traveller, who repeated it to me, and her
story and mine agreed in every particular, save that to her the
visitant was a complete stranger; and her tale was quite unbiassed
by mine, as I always treated hers as a fancy, and _never_
acknowledged I had been aware of anything unusual having taken
place in our room at Cairo. I never have seen, or fancied I saw,
any one before or since.

My visitant, also, is dead, or he would, I know, have added his
testimony, small as it was, to mine. He was a very calm, quiet,
clever, scientific man, not given to vain fancies on any subject,
and certainly was not aware of any desire of appearing to me.

The publication of _Phantasms of the Living_ led fortunately to our obtaining the testimony of the second percipient, now Mrs. Ramsay, of Clevelands, Bassett, Southampton, whose account follows:--

_July 1891._

I have been asked by a leading member of the Psychical Society to
write down what I can remember of a strange experience that
occurred no less than twenty-seven years ago. I now do so as simply
as I can, and to the best of my recollection.

In October 1864, I was travelling to India, going to rejoin my
parents, from whom I had been separated twelve years, a kind
friend--a Mrs. E.--having undertaken to chaperon me as far as
Calcutta. She was going out to join her husband, Major E., of the
23rd Royal Welsh Fusiliers. We started by a P. & O steamer--the
_Ceylon_--from Southampton, and travelled by the overland route,
_via_ Alexandria and Cairo, to Suez.

We landed at Alexandria, and went by rail across the desert to
Cairo. There all passengers had to sleep the night before
proceeding on to Suez. Shepherd's Hotel was the best hotel then,
and there was consequently a great rush to try and get rooms in it;
but Mrs. E. and I, finding we could get no corner, decided, with
two or three other passengers, to get accommodation in the Hôtel de
l'Europe. We felt somewhat nervous at the swarthy visages of the
Arabs all round us, and for this reason selected our quarters on
the very highest storey, thinking we should be more out of reach of
robbers and thieves than if we were on the ground floor. This is an
important point to remember, as no one could have effected an
entrance into our room from outside. It was a bright moonlight
night when we went to bed, and I can recollect as if it were
yesterday this fact, that the shadow of a "pepul" tree was
reflected on the wall opposite our beds--the leaves of the tree
were trembling and shaking, as the leaves of a "pepul" always do,
making the shadows dance about the wall.

Before we finally retired to rest we made the grandest arrangements
for personal security! The window looking out on to the street
below was much too high up to be at all unsafe. So we left that
open (I think) but we closed our door very firmly indeed! It was a
large folding door, and opened _inwards_. We locked it carefully,
leaving the key in the lock; pushed an arm-chair against the middle
of the door; and, to crown all, we balanced a hand-bag on one of
the arms, with a bunch of keys in the lock thereof! so that if any
intruder should venture to open that door, we should _know_ of it
at any rate!! (But no one did venture, and we found everything in
the morning exactly as we had left it.) I remember that Mrs. E. was
very careful about tucking her mosquito curtains all round, but I
disliked the feeling of suffocation they gave, and put mine up; not
realising, of course, in my inexperience, what the consequences
would be for myself; for these small plagues of Egypt (!) soon
descended upon me, nearly eating me up, and absolutely prevented
sleep. This is another important fact to remember, for had I slept
I might have dreamed, but, as it happened, I was wide awake. I was
looking at the shadows of the tree shaking on the wall when
gradually they seemed to merge into a form, which form took the
shape of a man, not of an Arab, but of an English gentleman. Then
this form glided into the room, advancing towards my chaperon,
stretching out his hands as if in blessing, turned round, looked at
me, sadly and sorrowfully (so I thought), and then vanished again
into the shadows as it came. I do not remember feeling terrified,
only awed--the face was so kind and human, only the moonlight made
it look very white. I did not wake Mrs. E., as she appeared to me
to be asleep. I felt sure I had seen a vision, and something that
had to do with her.

The next morning, while we were dressing, she remarked how odd I
looked, and quite apart from the mosquito bites, I know I did. We
had a good laugh over my comical appearance, for I had not scrupled
to scratch the bites, until my forehead and face resembled a plum
bun! I believe I then told her it was not strange that I should
look odd, for I "had seen a ghost." She started violently, and
asked me to tell her what I saw. I described it as best I could,
and _she said she had seen "it" too_, and that she knew it to be
the form and face of a valued friend. She was much disturbed about
it--as, indeed, so was I, for I had never indulged in
"hallucinations" and was not given to seeing visions.

We proceeded next day to join our ship at Suez, and when on board,
it was a great relief to us to be able to tell it to a kind
fellow-passenger. He was an absolute sceptic in all matters
relating to the invisible world, but he was obliged to admit that
it was the most extraordinary thing he had ever heard.... I should
like to add that I have never, before or since, had any kind of
vision.

Our experience at Cairo had this sequel, that Mrs. E.'s
spirit-friend happened to be, at that very time, in great
perplexity of mind--most anxious about some very important event in
his life. He was sitting in his room one night in the month of
October 1864, and a most intense yearning came over him for her
advice and assistance--so great was it, that he felt as if an
invisible power had drawn him into some spirit-state, in which he
could and did see her.[224]

For a somewhat similar case, that of the apparition of General Frémont (too lengthy to quote here), I may refer the reader to the _Journal_ S.P.R., vol. v. p. 54. The crisis there is the removal of long and wearing anxiety; the self-projection into the home-scene which now at last the General felt assured of being able to reach alive.

VI. F. From _Phantasms of the Living_, vol. i. pp. 104-109. The following case was especially remarkable in that there were two percipients. The narrative was copied by Gurney from a MS. book of Mr. S. H. B.'s, to which he transferred it from an almanac diary, since lost.

On a certain Sunday evening in November 1881, having been reading
of the great power which the human will is capable of exercising, I
determined with the whole force of my being, that I would be
present in spirit in the front bed-room on the second floor of a
house situated at 22 Hogarth Road, Kensington, in which room slept
two ladies of my acquaintance, viz., Miss L. S. V. and Miss E. C.
V., aged respectively 25 and 11 years. I was living at this time at
23 Kildare Gardens, a distance of about three miles from Hogarth
Road, and I had not mentioned in any way my intention of trying
this experiment to either of the above ladies, for the simple
reason that it was only on retiring to rest upon this Sunday night
that I made up my mind to do so. The time at which I determined I
would be there was 1 o'clock in the morning, and I also had a
strong intention of making my presence perceptible.

On the following Thursday I went to see the ladies in question, and
in the course of conversation (without any allusion to the subject
on my part) the elder one told me, that on the previous Sunday
night she had been much terrified by perceiving me standing by her
bedside, and that she screamed when the apparition advanced towards
her, and awoke her little sister, who saw me also.

I asked her if she was awake at the time, and she replied most
decidedly in the affirmative, and upon my inquiring the time of the
occurrence, she replied, about 1 o'clock in the morning.

This lady, at my request, wrote down a statement of the event and
signed it.

This was the first occasion upon which I tried an experiment of
this kind, and its complete success startled me very much.

Besides exercising my power of volition very strongly, I put forth
an effort which I cannot find words to describe. I was conscious of
a mysterious influence of some sort permeating in my body, and had
a distinct impression that I was exercising some force with which I
had been hitherto unacquainted, but which I can now at certain
times set in motion at will.

S. H. B.

Of the original entry in the almanac diary, Mr. B. says: "I recollect having made it within a week or so of the occurrence of the experiment, and whilst it was perfectly fresh in my memory."

* * * * *

Miss Verity's account is as follows:--

_January 18th, 1883._

On a certain Sunday evening, about twelve months since, at our
house in Hogarth Road, Kensington, I distinctly saw Mr. B. in my
room, about 1 o'clock. I was perfectly awake and was much
terrified. I awoke my sister by screaming, and she saw the
apparition herself. Three days after, when I saw Mr. B., I told him
what had happened, but it was some time before I could recover from
the shock I had received; and the remembrance is too vivid to be
ever erased from my memory.

L. S. VERITY.

In answer to inquiries, Miss Verity adds: "I had never had any hallucination of the senses of any sort whatever."

* * * * *

Miss E. C. Verity says:--

I remember the occurrence of the event described by my sister in
the annexed paragraph, and her description is quite correct. I saw
the apparition which she saw, at the same time and under the same
circumstances.

E. C. VERITY.

Miss A. S. Verity says:--

I remember quite clearly the evening my eldest sister awoke me by
calling to me from an adjoining room; and upon my going to her
bedside, where she slept with my youngest sister, they both told me
they had seen S. H. B. standing in the room. The time was about 1
o'clock. S. H. B. was in evening dress, they told me.

A. S. VERITY.

Mr. B. does not remember how he was dressed on the night of the occurrence.

Miss E. C. Verity was asleep when her sister caught sight of the figure, and was awoke by her sister's exclaiming, "There is S." The name had therefore met her ear before she herself saw the figure; and the hallucination on her part might thus be attributed to suggestion. But it is against this view that she has never had any other hallucination, and cannot therefore be considered as predisposed to such experiences. The sisters are both equally certain that the figure was in evening dress, and that it stood in one particular spot in the room. The gas was burning low, and the phantasmal figure was seen with far more clearness than a real figure would have been.

"The witnesses" (says Gurney) "have been very carefully cross-examined by the present writer. There is not the slightest doubt that their mention of the occurrence to S. H. B. was spontaneous. They had not at first intended to mention it; but when they saw him, their sense of its oddness overcame their resolution. Miss Verity is a perfectly sober-minded and sensible witness, with no love of marvels, and with a considerable dread and dislike of this particular form of marvel."

[I omit here for want of space the next case, in which Mr. S. H. B. attempted to appear in Miss Verity's house at two different hours on the same evening, and was seen there, at both the times fixed, by a married sister who was visiting in the house.]

Gurney requested Mr. B. to send him a note on the night that he intended to make his next experiment of the kind, and received the following note by the first post on Monday, March 24th, 1884.

_March 22nd, 1884._

DEAR MR. GURNEY,--I am going to try the experiment to-night of
making my presence perceptible at 44 Norland Square, at 12 P.M. I
will let you know the result in a few days.--Yours very sincerely,

S. H. B.

The next letter was received in the course of the following week:--

_April 3rd, 1884._

DEAR MR. GURNEY,--I have a strange statement to show you,
respecting my experiment, which was tried at your suggestion, and
under the test conditions which you imposed.

Having quite forgotten which night it was on which I attempted the
projection, I cannot say whether the result is a brilliant success,
or only a slight one, until I see the letter which I posted you on
the evening of the experiment.

Having sent you that letter, I did not deem it necessary to make a
note in my diary, and consequently have let the exact date slip my
memory.

If the dates correspond, the success is complete in every detail,
and I have an account signed and witnessed to show you.

I saw the lady (who was the subject) for the first time last night,
since the experiment, and she made a voluntary statement to me,
which I wrote down at her dictation, and to which she has attached
her signature. The date and time of the apparition are specified in
this statement, and it will be for you to decide whether they are
identical with those given in my letter to you. I have completely
forgotten, but yet I fancy that they are the same.

S. H. B.

This is the statement:--

44 NORLAND SQUARE, W.

On Saturday night, March 22nd, 1884, at about midnight, I had a
distinct impression that Mr. S. H. B. was present in my room, and I
distinctly saw him whilst I was quite widely awake. He came towards
me, and stroked my hair. I _voluntarily_ gave him this information,
when he called to see me on Wednesday, April 2nd, telling him the
time and the circumstances of the apparition, without any
suggestion on his part. The appearance in my room was most vivid,
and quite unmistakable.

L. S. VERITY.

Miss A. S. Verity corroborates as follows:--

I remember my sister telling me that she had seen S. H. B., and
that he had touched her hair, _before_ he came to see us on April
2nd.

A. S. V.

Mr. B.'s own account is as follows:--

On Saturday, March 22nd, I determined to make my presence
perceptible to Miss V., at 44 Norland Square, Notting Hill, at 12
midnight, and as I had previously arranged with Mr. Gurney that I
should post him a letter on the evening on which I tried my next
experiment (stating the time and other particulars), I sent a note
to acquaint him with the above facts.

About ten days afterwards I called upon Miss V., and she
voluntarily told me, that on March 22nd, at 12 o'clock midnight,
she had seen me so vividly in her room (whilst widely awake) that
her nerves had been much shaken, and she had been obliged to send
for a doctor in the morning.

S. H. B.

Unfortunately Mr. B.'s intention to produce the impression of touching the percipient's hair is not included in his written account. On August 21st, 1885, he wrote to Gurney, "I remember that I had this intention"; and Gurney remembered that, very soon after the occurrence, he mentioned this as one of the points which made the success "complete in every detail"; and that he recommended him in any future trial to endeavour instead to produce the impression of some spoken phrase.

On this case, Gurney observes:--

It will be observed that in all these instances the conditions were
the same--the agent concentrating his thoughts on the object in
view before going to sleep. Mr. B. has never succeeded in producing
a similar effect when he has been awake. And this restriction as to
time has made it difficult to devise a plan by which the phenomenon
could be tested by independent observers, one of whom might arrange
to be in the company of the agent at a given time, and the other in
that of the percipient. Nor is it easy to press for repetitions of
the experiment, which is not an agreeable one to the percipient,
and is followed by a considerable amount of nervous prostration.
Moreover, if trials were frequently made with the same percipient,
the value of success would diminish; for any latent expectation on
the percipient's part might be argued to be itself productive of
the delusion, and the coincidence with the agent's resolve might be
explained as accidental. We have, of course, requested Mr. B. to
try to produce the effect on ourselves; but though he has more than
once made the attempt, it has not succeeded.

APPENDICES

TO