927 C. Concerning Miss Lottie Fowler, I quote accounts of two incidents, one recorded by Mr. W. Stainton Moses and the other by Mr. C. C. Massey. Mr. Moses' account is given in Proceedings S.P.R., vol. xi. p. 78, as follows:-

Perhaps one of the most striking cases I can present is the first experience that occurred to me. (See Spirit Identity, pp. 124-126, Appendix V.):-

I inquired where I could see for myself these new phenomena, and was informed that Miss Lottie Fowler [a well-known professional medium] was about to hold a seance that very evening (April 2nd, 1872), at 15 Southampton Row. I went, and was greatly astonished at what I saw and heard. I need not take up time by detailing the occurrences of the first part of the sitting; most Spiritualists are familiar with the usual routine of Miss Fowler's seances. Much hazy nonsense was talked, and many vague statements made, which seemed to me to be of no use whatever as tests of spirit identity. I was rapidly becoming nauseated. I craved for something more clear, something on which I could rest as a staple piece of evidence. I inquired, therefore, whether I might endeavour to obtain some such proof for myself. Leave was at once given by the director of the circle, and I addressed the spirit who controlled the medium.

"You are tiring your medium, and making fun of us. Go and send some one who is serious".

The medium shivered and turned away, and the voice came as though troubled.

"You've nothing to do with me. I won't go. Me no go".

"Yes, you will. You'll go and send some one else".

After more colloquy the medium shivered again, seemed to be in pain, and stood rooted to the spot, crouching as if in dread.

After a time the voice came again, but utterly changed; the voice, this time of a man, very calm and unimpassioned, instead of the child-voice speaking baby jargon.

"You want me?"

"Yes. What is your name?"

"I'd rather not tell you. You can ask me any questions".

"No. Tell me what you see, or describe any one whom you see near me. I will answer yes or no; no more".

"I see a man, very old, tall, with a long white beard, and long hair".

"Yes".

"The beard is very white indeed".

"No. Go on".

"He has a very high, broad forehead, and his eyes are drawn down. Why, he's blind!"

"Yes".

"And his face is black and blue. And" (here the medium shuddered violently) - "oh! what's that in his mouth? It's like slime - and mud - and oh! blood".

"Yes?"

"And - it's dark. I can't see".

"Go on. How is he dressed?"

"He has a long blue coat. No, not exactly a coat - something long. I can't see his feet".

"Where does he stand?"

"Right opposite; close by you".

"Can you see his name?"

"No. He seems in trouble. I think it's money. He looks so horrible. Let me go. Why do you keep me here".

"Go, then. Do you know me?"

"No." (This very emphatically).

I shall not attempt to describe the scene during the time that this conversation was held. I have quoted from a full and careful record written at the time, and the whole scene is photographed indelibly on my mind. Every one seemed petrified and astonished. They would have been still more so had they known with what photographic accuracy a scene in my own private experience was being re-enacted before my eyes. It was, I am sure, as unknown as I was myself. It was a scene that passed in a very distant part of Great Britain, and it was reproduced with a realistic power that bore down before it, as with torrent force, all doubt and hesitation. I felt that the man was there before me; himself reproducing the story of his death for my conviction.

Here we have the case of a man who went to a seance with absolutely no expectations in his mind; he did not know what to expect; he did not expect anything; and he got what in any police-court would be considered perfect evidence of life beyond the grave.

I quote Mr. Massey's account from the Journal S.P.R., vol. v. p. 5.

January 18th, 1890.

On April 7th, 1883, died an old and dear friend of mine, by name Francis Paynton Pigott-Carleton (his patronymic was Pigott - he took the name of Carleton on his marriage). On April 27th in the same year I took an old glove of his, given to me for the purpose by his widow, to Lottie Fowler, putting it into her hand when she was apparently into trance, and was "controlled," and requesting the "control" to get into rapport with the owner of the glove, and give me any particulars concerning that person. The "control" gave me a description of the person of my friend which I thought remarkably good. I then asked for the name. She, or the "control," seemed to listen for it, and then said, with apparent vexation, "Oh, it is all nonsense, I can make nothing of it. I hear only 'Pig - Pig' - that is not a name; what do they (sic) mean by 'Pig'?"

It is obvious that the first syllable of the name "Pigott" is that which would be accentuated most strongly, and the sound dropping (we may suppose), the latter half of the name would not be caught by an ear unfamiliar with it.

I had given her not the slightest clue, except the glove, which was not marked with the name, and she had never seen or heard of my friend, who lived in the country and was not interested in "Spiritualism," and was quite unknown to "mediums"; though his wife had on more than one occasion been with me to seances. (Not, however, to Lottie Fowler, to the best of my present memory and belief.) And I had not mentioned my friend's death among my spiritualistic friends, nor my intention to visit her to any one who might, intentionally or otherwise, prepare her.

C. C. Massey.