Attempts are sometimes made to obliterate other tell-tale marks, such as a piece of a spirit’s hat or collar, which has accidentally got on to the plate. Other mediums, however, are less particular, especially in America, and produce their spirits with ordinary hats, collars and ties. But as a rule only spirit robes are permitted, apparently made of butter muslin not quite in focus. Hands are often present: I have seen a case in which the position of a spirit hand would have necessitated a many-jointed arm about four feet long; but perhaps spirit arms are like this. One spirit extra I have seen has two hands, but both appear to be left hands—evidently a left-handed spirit.
Frequently, again, careful examination shows that spirit extras are not photographs at all, but resemble wash drawings. This gives the clue to their origin, for several of the methods described in a preceding section produce a result of this kind. It has been several times pointed out that spirit extras in some cases show the characteristic dots produced by the half-tone newspaper illustration process; if the medium cannot obtain a real photograph of the required spirit, he has to copy a newspaper reproduction. If he is clever, he can eliminate these process marks by printing in his spirit slightly out of focus; but very often he does not take the trouble.
In many, perhaps in the majority, of spirit photographs produced by professional or semi-professional mediums, a critical observer with practical photographic experience can point out some such definite evidence of fraudulent manipulation. In many other cases, where no one particular point can be singled out as indicative of fraud, minor points of suspicion are noticeable, which taken together leave little doubt of the nature of the picture. But photographs can be prepared by purely mechanical means, especially if no kind of test conditions are employed, which will contain no internal evidence whatever of manipulation. By carefully combining enlarged positives, for instance, and re-photographing the whole, results can be produced which will defy the most critical examination. But such photographs are seldom produced, even when the medium is given practically a free hand.
IV.—Spirit Photographs Obtained by Amateurs
(C. Vincent Patrick)
Probably most people have heard, but seldom at first hand, of unexpected ghosts appearing on plates or films exposed by amateur photographers. On the rare occasions when such accounts can be traced to their source, one usually finds that there is some simple and evident explanation. Streaks and splashes of light on the plates are comparatively common, and are usually the result of the camera, slides, or dark-room not being light-tight; very strange results are sometimes produced in this way. I was once puzzled by a photograph which showed an arch, like a rainbow, across the sky, when it was quite certain that there had been no rainbow in the sky when the photograph was taken. When the result was repeated a few days later, the camera quickly came under suspicion, and was found to have developed a minute pinhole in the bellows. This was sealed up, and the rainbow did not reappear. Many unexplained markings on plates are certainly caused in this or similar ways; but only under very favourable circumstances could an extra face on the plate be so produced. Sometimes unexpected results are caused by an accidental second exposure; but the nature of such a photograph will quickly be apparent. The use of old glass plates may sometimes be responsible for similar results, as has been already explained. But authenticated cases of the appearance of unseen faces in photographs taken in the absence of a professional medium, and which do not show an obvious explanation, are few and far between. The classical example is that of the Combermere photograph, which was published in the Journal of the S.P.R., and aroused much discussion and criticism.
A Miss Corbet took a photograph of the library of Combermere Abbey, Cheshire, on December 5th, 1891. She was alone at the time, and left the camera during the exposure, as it was a long one. She kept a note-book with records of her photographs, which afterwards showed that an exposure of one hour had been given, namely from 2 to 3 p.m. Unfortunately she did not develop the photograph till eight months later, and was then amazed to find a figure occupying a chair in a prominent position in the photograph. The figure was faint and transparent, the legs being quite invisible; the features were not recognisable; but the presence of a head, shoulders and arm was fairly plain. Inquiries were made, and it was found that not only was the chair in question the one Lord Combermere had been wont to occupy, but that he had died a few days before the photograph was taken, and was actually being buried some two miles from the Abbey at the hour at which the photograph was taken. The photograph was naturally shown to the dead nobleman’s relatives, some of whom professed to recognise it as Lord Combermere. It was further pointed out that he had lost the use of his legs in an accident some three weeks before his death, and that the spirit figure was correspondingly legless!
The most important contribution to the discussion which followed was made by Sir William Barrett, who demonstrated that the result could be duplicated by taking a several minutes’ exposure of a chair, in which someone was seated for a part of the time. The sitter would naturally not keep quite still; hence the outlines would be blurred and the features indistinct. Sir William published a photograph which he had obtained in this way, reproducing the features of the Combermere photograph, even to the leglessness. He suggested that someone, possibly one of the four men-servants in the Abbey, had entered the library during the prolonged exposure. He had sat down in the chair for a minute or so, when, noticing the camera, he beat a retreat. The photograph showed double outlines to all the sharp edges, indicating that the camera had been moved slightly during the exposure, and suggesting that someone had entered the room and jarred it. As it was eight months after the event that the photograph was developed, it was impossible to ascertain whether anyone did actually so enter the room. In any case it was a remarkable coincidence, but there is no proof of it being anything more.
A somewhat similar case is recorded by Podmore. The photograph was being taken, this time, in a chapel. On development a faint face was seen framed in a panel. This was described as being the likeness of a friend of the photographer’s who had recently died—“a handsome, melancholy lad of eighteen.” Another critic thought that the face was that “of a woman of thirty”; it must have been very indistinct. It may well have been caused in the same manner that was suggested for the Combermere photograph; a visitor to the chapel standing in the field of the camera for some moments, probably not realising that an exposure was in progress.