The Crewe friends heard no more about the matter until the controversy in Light (February 14th, 1914, and subsequent numbers). The extraordinary ignorance, even of the spiritualistic public, on these matters, was revealed by the storm of indignation that burst upon the devoted heads of the Crewe Circle and their supporters. The testimony of such students and scholars as the late Mr. James W. Sharpe, M.A., of Bournemouth, an eminent mathematician and expert authority on all questions of psychical research, did little to allay the outburst. In vain it was pointed out that no fact was better vouched for than the reproduction by “spirit” photographers of well-known pictures and photographs, often true in every detail to the originals. The theory and fact of ideoplasticity were ridiculed just as they are ridiculed to-day by those who should keep themselves up-to-date in physical science, if they wish to judge justly the yet more complex problems of psychical science.
The Society for Psychical Research was as unhelpful as the “man in the street,” so far as its leading authorities were concerned.
To return to the beginning of things: it was on July 16th, 1909, when, in response to a telegram from Archdeacon Colley, I went to Leamington, where I first met the Rev. Prof. Henslow and two members of the Crewe Circle who were on a visit to the Archdeacon. A séance for spirit photography was held. It was disappointing in one sense. Prof. Henslow was told that he would find impressions on certain plates in a sealed packet on the table which was not to be opened for a fortnight.
I prepared to say good-bye, when Mr. Hope said he would like to do something for the visitor from London. “The friends say that if the lady can remain the night they will give her a test.” I replied that the only test of interest to me was one that would convince my fellow-members of the Society for Psychical Research. The mediums insisted, but I refused to stay unless Prof. Henslow also remained and took charge of the proceedings.
“Sir, do stay!” pleaded Mr. Hope. “There are five of us—you, the Archdeacon, Mrs. Buxton, Miss Scatcherd and myself. You must buy five plates from your own photographer. Each plate must be put into a light-tight envelope and worn by the sitter, with the sensitised surface next to the person, until the séance. It will not take long to fetch the plates and bring them back to us. Thus we shall have an hour to wear them before the séance this evening. It is the only way to get them magnetised so as to have immediate results. You can each develop your own plate to-night and then Miss Scatcherd will know whether the friends have kept their word.”
Prof. Henslow good-naturedly agreed and drove off with the Archdeacon to purchase the plates. I remained with Mrs. Buxton and Mr. Hope. Within an hour the Archdeacon returned with four plates put up as directed. Professor Henslow had gone home to dinner wearing his plate in a wood slide contrived by Archdeacon Colley. Mrs. Buxton and I tucked ours inside our blouses and Mr. Hope placed his in that trouser-pocket which has aroused such evil suspicions in the minds of investigators. We remained together until Prof. Henslow joined us. It was full daylight. We sat round the table when Mr. Hope asked:
“What do you want, Miss Scatcherd? A face? A message? What shall it be?”
“You forget my conditions; Prof. Henslow must decide. Let him choose,” I replied.
Prof. Henslow said he did not care what came so long as the same thing appeared on all the plates. It was a remark worthy of the speaker, conveying, as it did, a most crucial test, in view of the fact that he had never let his plate out of his own keeping. The usual séance was held.
Prof. Henslow developed his plate first. I developed mine under Archdeacon Colley’s supervision, then Mrs. Buxton and Mr. Hope developed theirs.