Note by O. J. L. about the name 'Norman'
It appears that 'Norman' was a kind of general nickname; and especially that when the boys played hockey together, which they often did in the field here, by way of getting concentrated exercise, Raymond, who was specially active at this game, had a habit of shouting out, "Now then, Norman," or other words of encouragement, to any of his other brothers whom he wished to stimulate, especially apparently Lionel, though sometimes Alec and the others. That is what I am now told, and I can easily realise the manner of it. But I can testify that I was not aware that a name like this was used, nor was Lady Lodge, we two being the only members of the family present at the Leonard table sitting where the name 'Norman' was given. (See p. [140].)
It will be remembered that at that sitting I first asked him what name the boys had called him, and, after a few partial failures, obviously only due to mismanagement of the table, he replied, 'Pat,' which was quite right. I then asked if he would like to give the name of a brother, and he replied 'Norman,' which I thought was quite wrong. I did not even allow him to finish the last letter. I said he was confused, and had better begin again; after which he amended it to '*Noël,' which I accepted as correct. But it will now be observed that the name 'Norman' was the best he could possibly give, as a kind of comprehensive nickname applicable to almost any brother. And a nickname was an appropriate kind of response, because we had already had the nickname 'Pat,' Furthermore, on subsequent occasions he explained that it was the name by which he had called Lionel; and, through Mrs. Kennedy—if she did not make a mistake—that it was a name he had called Alec by. It is quite possible, however, that he had intended to say 'Lionel' on that occasion, and that she got it wrong. I am not sure how that may be. Again, at a later stage, in a family sitting—no medium present—one of the boys said, "Pat, do you remember 'Norman'?" at which with some excitement, the girls only touching the table, he spelt out 'Hockey'; thus completing the whole incident.
The most evidential portions, however, are those obtained when nobody present understood what was being said—namely, first, the spelling of the name 'Norman' when those present thought that it was all a mistake after the first two letters; and secondly, the explanation to Mrs. Kennedy that it was a name by which he had called one of his brothers, showing that it was originally given by no accident, but with intention.
As to the name 'Pat' (p. [140]), I extract the following from a diary of Noël, as evidence that it was very much Raymond's nickname; but of course we knew it:—
1914
"Sept. 9. Pat goes to L'pool re Commission.
" 10. Pat gets commission in 3rd South Lanc's.
" 14. Pat collecting kit. We inspect revolvers.
" 18. Pat comes up to Harborne for some rifle practice.
Does not find it too easy.
" 19. I become member of Harborne Rifle Club.
" 20. Pat shoots again.
Sept. 23. Pat leaves for L'pool to start his training at Great Crosby.
I give up commission-idea for the present.
Oct. 17. Pat comes home to welcome Parents back from Australia.
" 20. Pat returns to L'pool."
Note on the name 'Mitchell' (added later)
It can be remembered that, when asked on 28 September for the name of an officer, Raymond spelt out Mitchell, and indicated decisively that the word Aeroplane was connected with him; he also assented to the idea that he was one whom the family didn't know, and that so it would be better as evidence (pp. [141], [142]).
After several failures at identification I learnt, on 10 October, through the kind offices of the Librarian of the London Library, that he had ascertained from the War Office that there was a 2nd Lieut. E. H. Mitchell now attached to the Royal Flying Corps. Accordingly, I wrote to the Record Office, Farnborough; and ultimately, on 6 November, received a post card from Captain Mitchell, to whom I must apologise for the, I hope, quite harmless use of his name:—
"Many thanks for your kind letter. I believe I have met your son, though where I forget. My wounds are quite healed, and I am posted to Home Establishment for a bit, with rank of Captain. Your letter only got here (Dover) from France this morning, so please excuse delay in answering.
E. H. Mitchell."
In concluding this chapter, I may quote a little bit of non-evidential but characteristic writing from 'Paul.' It was received on 30 September 1915 by Mrs. Kennedy, when alone, and her record runs thus:—
(After writing of other things, I not having asked anything about Raymond.)
"I think it hardly possible for you to believe how quickly Raymond learns; he seems to believe all that we have to fight to teach the others.
"Poor chaps, you see no one has told them before they come over, and it is so hard for them when they see us and they feel alive, and their people keep on sobbing.
"The business for you and me gets harder and harder as the days go on, mother; it needs thousand at this work, and you are so small.
"I feel that God helps us, but I want Him to find others, darling; there is no time to waste either in your place or mine, but I know you are trying ever so hard."
CHAPTER IX
ATTEMPTS AT STRICTER EVIDENCE
IN a Table Sitting it is manifest that the hypothesis of unconscious muscular guidance must be pressed to extremes, as a normal explanation, when the communications are within the knowledge of any of the people sitting at the table.
Many of the answers obtained were quite outside the knowledge of the medium or of Mrs. Kennedy, but many were inevitably known to us; and in so far as they were within our knowledge it might be supposed, even by ourselves, that we partially controlled the tilting, though of course we were careful to try not to do so. And besides, the things that came, or the form in which they came, were often quite unexpected, and could not consciously have been controlled by us. Moreover, when the sentence spelt out was a long one, we lost our way in it and could not tell whether it was sense or nonsense; for the words ran into each other. The note-taker, who puts each letter down as it is called out to him by the sitters at the table, has no difficulty in reading a message, although, with the words all run together, it hardly looks intelligible at first sight, even when written. For instance:—
BELESSWORRIEDALECPLEASEOLDCHAP,
which was one message, or:—
GATHEREDINMEDIUMANDTHATGOESINTOTABLEANDWEMANIPULATE,
which was part of another. Neither could be readily followed if called out slowly letter by letter.
Still, the family were naturally and properly sceptical about it all.
Accordingly, my sons devised certain questions in the nature of tests, referring to trivial matters which they thought would be within Raymond's recollection, but which had happened to them alone during summer excursions or the like, and so were quite outside my knowledge. They gave me a few written questions, devised in conclave in their own room; and on 12 October I took them to London with me in a sealed envelope, which I opened in the train when going up for a sitting; and after the sitting had begun I took an early opportunity of putting the questions it contained. We had already had (on 28 September, reported in last chapter) one incident of a kind unknown to us, in the name 'Norman,' but they wanted more of the same or of a still more marked kind. I think it will be well to copy the actual contemporary record of this part of the sitting in full:—
Second Table Sitting of O. J. L. and M. F. A. L. with
Mrs. Leonard, 12 October 1915, 5.30 p. m.
Present.—O. J. L., M. F. A. L., K. K., with Dr. Kennedy
as Recorder
At the beginning of the sitting O. J. L. explained that they were now engaged in trying to get distinct and crucial evidence; that preparations had been made accordingly; and that no doubt those on the other side approved, and would co-operate.
A pause of three and a half minutes then ensued, and the table gave a slow tilt.
O. J. L.—Is Paul there?
Yes.
O. J. L.—Have you brought Raymond?
Yes.
O. J. L.—Are you there, Raymond?
Yes.
O. J. L. (after M. F. A. L. had greeted him).—
Well now, look here, my boy, I have got a few questions which your brothers think you will know something about, whereas to me they are quite meaningless. Their object is to make quite sure that we don't unconsciously help in getting the answers because we know them. In this case that is impossible, because nobody here knows the answers at all. Do you understand the object?
Yes.
O. J. L.—Very well then, shall I begin?
No.
O. J. L.—Oh! You want to say something yourself first?
Yes.
O. J. L.—Very well then, the alphabet.
TELLTHEMINOWTRYTOPROVEIHAVEMESSAGESTOTHEWORLD.
[Taking these long messages down is rather tedious, and it is noteworthy that the sitters lose their way sooner or later—I had no idea what was coming or whether it was sense—but of course when it is complete the recorder can easily interpret, and does so.]
O. J. L.—Is that the end of what you want to say yourself?
Yes.
O. J. L.—Well then, now I will give you one of the boys' questions, but I had better explain that you may not in every case understand the reference yourself. We can hardly expect you to answer all of them, and if you don't do one, I will pass on to another. But don't hurry, and we will take down whatever you choose to say on each of them. The first question is:—
O. J. L.—"Do you remember anything about the Argonauts?"
(Silence for a short time.)
O. J. L.—'Argonauts' is the word. Does it mean anything to you? Take your time.
Yes.
O. J. L.—Well, would you like to say what you remember?
Yes.
Then, by repeating the alphabet, was spelt:—
TELEGRAM.
O. J. L.—Is that the end of that answer?
Yes.
O. J. L.—Well, now I will go on to the second question then. "What do you recollect about Dartmoor?"
The time for thought was now much briefer, and the table began to spell pretty soon:—
COMING DOWN.
O. J. L.—Is that all?
No.
O. J. L.—Very well then, continue.
HILL FERRY.
O. J. L.—Is that the end of the answer?
Yes.
O. J. L.—Very well then, now I will go on to the third question, which appears to be a bit complicated. "What do the following suggest to you:—
Evinrude
O. B. P.
Kaiser's sister."
(No good answers were obtained to these questions: they seemed to awaken no reminiscence.
Asked the name of the man to whom Raymond had given his dog, the table spelt out STALLARD quite correctly. But this was within our knowledge.)
(End of extract from record.)
Note on the Reminiscences awakened by the
Words 'Argonauts' and 'Dartmoor'
On reporting to my sons the answers given about 'Argonauts' and 'Dartmoor' they were not at all satisfied.
I found, however, from the rest of the family that the word TELEGRAM had a meaning in connexion with 'Argonauts'—a meaning quite unknown to me or to my wife—but it was not the meaning that his brothers had expected. It seems that in a previous year, while his mother and I were away from home, the boys travelled by motor to somewhere in Devonshire, and (as they think) at Taunton Raymond had gone into a post office, sent a telegram home to say that they were all right, and had signed it 'Argonauts.' The girls at home remembered the telegram quite well; the other boys did not specially remember it.
The kind of reference they had wanted, Raymond gave ultimately though meagrely, but only after so much time had elapsed that the test had lost its value, and only after I had been told to switch him on to "Tent Lodge, Coniston," as a clue.
Now that I know the answer I do not think the question was a particularly good one; and the word 'telegram,' which they had not expected and did not want, seems to me quite as good an incident as the one which, without a clue, they had expected him to recall in connexion with 'Argonauts.' Besides, I happened myself to know about an Iceland trip in Mr. Alfred Holt's yacht 'Argo' and its poetic description by Mr. Mitchell Banks and Dr. Caton in a book in the drawing-room at Tent Lodge, Coniston (though the boys were not aware of my knowledge), but it never struck me that this was the thing wanted; and if it had come, the test would have been of inferior quality.
Concerning the answer to 'Dartmoor,' his brothers said that COMING DOWN HILL was correct but incomplete; and that they didn't remember any FERRY. I therefore on another occasion, namely, on 22 October, during a sitting with Feda (that is to say, not a table sitting, but one in which Mrs. Leonard's control Feda was speaking and reporting messages), said—still knowing nothing about the matter beyond what I had obtained in the table sitting—"Raymond, do you remember about 'Dartmoor' and the hill?"
The answer is recorded as follows, together with the explanatory note added soon afterwards—though the record is no doubt a little abbreviated, as there was some dramatic representation by Feda of sudden swerves and holding on:—
From Sitting of O. J. L. and M. F. A. L. on
22 October 1915. 'Feda' speaking
O. J. L.—Raymond, do you remember about Dartmoor and the hill?
Yes, he said something about that. He says it was exciting. What is that he says? Brake—something about a brake—putting the brake on. Then he says, sudden curve—a curve— he gives Feda a jerk like going round a quick curve.
[I thought at the time that this was only padding, but subsequently learnt from Alec that it was right. It was on a very long night-journey on their motor, when the silencer had broken down by bursting, at the bottom of an exceptionally steep hill, and there was an unnerving noise. The one who was driving went down other steep hills at a great pace, with sudden applications of the brake and sudden quick curves, so that those at the back felt it dangerous, and ultimately had to stop him and insist on going slower. Raymond was in front with the one who was driving. The sensations of those at the back of the car were strongly connected with the brake and with curves; but they had mainly expected a reference from Raymond to the noise from the broken silencer, which they ultimately repaired during the same night with tools obtained at the first town they stopped at.]
O. J. L.—Did he say anything about a ferry?
No, he doesn't remember that he did.
O. J. L.—Well, I got it down.
There is one: all the same there is one. But he didn't mean to say anything about it. He says it was a stray thought that he didn't mean to give through the table. He has found one or two things come in like that. It was only a stray thought. You have got what you wanted, he says. 'Hill,' he meant to give, but not 'ferry.' They have nothing to do with each other.
On a later occasion I took an opportunity of catechising him further about this word FERRY, since none of the family remembered a ferry, or could attach any significance to the word. He still insisted that his mention of a ferry in connexion with a motor trip was not wrong, only he admitted that "some people wouldn't call it a ferry." I waited to see if any further light would come; and now, long afterwards, on 18 August 1916 I receive from Alec a note referring to a recent trip, this month, which says:—
"By the way, on the run to Langland Bay (which is the motor run we all did the year before the run to Newquay) we pass through Briton Ferry; and there is precious little ferry about it."
So even this semi-accidental reminiscence seems to be turning out not altogether unmeaning; though probably it ought not to have come in answer to 'Dartmoor.' (See more about Dartmoor on p. [211].)