Even the establishment of a date in August for the taking of the photograph, as mentioned first in Mrs. Cheves' letter and confirmed by finding an entry in Raymond's Diary, is important, because the last time we ever saw Raymond was in July.
To my mind the whole incident is rather exceptionally good as a piece of evidence; and that 'Raymond' expected it to be good evidence is plain from Peters's ('Moonstone's') statement, at that first reference to a photograph on 27 September, namely, "He is particular that I should tell you of this." (This sentence it probably was which made me look out for such a photograph, and take pains to get records soundly made beforehand.) Our complete ignorance, even of the existence of the photograph, in the first place, and secondly the delayed manner in which knowledge of it normally came to us, so that we were able to make provision for getting the supernormally acquired details definitely noted beforehand, seem to me to make it a first-class case. While, as to the amount of coincidence between the description and the actual photograph, that surely is quite beyond chance or guesswork. For not only are many things right, but practically nothing is wrong.
CALENDAR
Footnotes
[10] ] This bit not written to J. A. H., but is copied from Peters's sitting, of which Mr. Hill had seen the record.
CHAPTER V
BEGINNING OF HISTORICAL RECORD OF
SITTINGS
Although this episode of the photograph is a good and evidential one, I should be sorry to base an important conclusion on any one piece of evidence, however cogent. All proofs are really cumulative; and though it is legitimate to emphasise anything like a crucial instance, it always needs supplementing by many others, lest there may have been some oversight. Accordingly, I now proceed to quote from sittings held by members of the family after Raymond's death—laying stress upon those which were arranged for, and held throughout, in an anonymous manner, so that there was not the slightest normal clue to identity.
The first message came to us through a recent friend of ours in London, Mrs. Kennedy, who herself has the power of automatic writing, and who, having lost her specially beloved son Paul, has had her hand frequently controlled by him—usually only so as to give affectionate messages, but sometimes in a moderately evidential way. She had been sceptical about the genuineness of this power apparently possessed by herself; and it was her painful uncertainty on this point that had brought her into correspondence with me, for she was trying to test her own writing in various ways, as she was so anxious not to be deceived. The first I ever heard of her was the following letter which came while I was in Australia, and was dealt with by Mr. Hill:—