‘And what was your purpose in encouraging this intimacy? ’—‘It was a professional one, a medical one. I had hopes that Miss Dawes might be able to assist in restoring my daughter to a proper state of health. My daughter has been ill for several years. Miss Dawes persuaded me that the condition had its origins as a spiritual ailment, rather than a physical one.’
‘And Miss Dawes attended your daughter at the house at Sydenham?’—‘Yes.’
‘Over what period of time?’—‘Over a period of two weeks. My daughter sat in a darkened room with Miss Dawes for an hour a day, and for two days in each week.’
‘Did she sit alone with Miss Dawes on these occasions?’—‘No. My daughter was fearful, and I sat with her.’
‘And what was your daughter’s state of health over this two-week period of attendance by Miss Dawes?’—‘It struck me as improved. I believe now, however, that the improvement was the product of an unhealthy excitement on my daughter’s part, encouraged in her by Miss Dawes’s treatment.’
‘Why do you believe that?’—‘Because of the condition in which I found my daughter, on the night on which Miss Dawes finally abused her.’
‘This was the night on which Mrs Brink suffered her fatal seizure? That is, the night of the third of August, 1873?’—‘Yes.’
‘And on this night, contrary to your usual practice, you allowed your daughter to visit Miss Dawes alone. Why was that?’—‘Miss Dawes persuaded me that my presence at her sittings was hindering Madeleine’s progress. She claimed there must be certain channels opened between my daughter and herself, that my presence was obstructing. She was an artful speaker, and I was taken in.’
‘Well, that of course is for the gentlemen here to decide. The fact is, you allowed Miss Silvester to travel alone to Sydenham.’—‘Quite alone. She was accompanied only by her maid, and of course by our driver.’
‘And how did Miss Silvester appear to you on setting out for her appointment with Miss Dawes?’—‘She appeared nervous to me. I now believe her, as I have said, to have been unhealthily excited by the attentions of Miss Dawes.’
‘In what way “excited”?’—‘Flattered. My daughter is a simple girl. Miss Dawes encouraged her to believe that she had the powers of a spirit-medium. She said her good health would be attained once these had begun to be developed.’
‘Did you believe your daughter might be the possessor of such gifts?’—‘I was ready to believe anything, sir, that would explain my daughter’s illness to me.’
‘Well, and then your faith on this issue will be seen to do you credit.’—‘I hope it will.’
‘I am certain it will. Now, you have told us of your daughter’s state of health as she left you to visit Miss Dawes. When, Mrs Silvester, did you see your daughter next?’—‘Not until several hours later. I had expected her return at nine o’clock, and by half-past ten had had no word of her.’
‘What did you make of that delay?’—‘I was beside myself with fear for her! I sent our footman in a cab, to enquire after her safety. He returned having seen my daughter’s maid; he told me my daughter was injured and that I must go to her at once. I did that.’
‘And how did the house seem to you, when you reached it?’—‘It was upset, with servants running from floor to floor and all the lights turned high.’
‘And in what condition did you find your daughter?’—‘I found her—oh! I found her in a waking swoon, with her clothes very dishevelled, and marks of violence upon her face and throat.’
‘And what was her response on seeing you come to her?’—‘She was not in her senses. She thrust me from her, and spoke to me foully. She was infected, by that little charlatan Miss Dawes!’
‘Did you see Miss Dawes?’—‘I did.’
‘What was her condition?’—‘She seemed distracted. I cannot say, I am sure she was acting. She told me that my daughter had been roughly handled by a male spirit; I had never heard of anything more grotesque. And when I told her as much, she grew abusive. She told me to be silent, and then she wept. She said that my daughter was a silly girl, and thanks to her, she had lost everything. It was then I learned that Mrs Brink had had a seizure and lay ill upstairs. I believe she died about that time, while I was attending to my daughter.’
‘And you are certain of Miss Dawes’s words? Are you certain that is what she said: “I have lost everything”?’—‘Yes.’
‘And what did you understand her to mean by that?’—‘Why nothing, then. I was too anxious for the health of my daughter. Now, however, I understand very well. She meant that Madeleine had thwarted her ambitions. She meant to make my daughter her particular friend, and squeeze her for every cent. And how could she do that, with my daughter having fallen into such a state, and with Mrs Brink dead, besides . . .?’
There is a little more, but I did not copy it. This comes in one edition of the newspaper; in the next week’s number there is a report of the examination of the girl herself, Miss Madeleine Silvester. There are three attempts to question her, and she breaks down weeping at every one. Mrs Silvester I don’t much care for—she reminds me of my mother. Her daughter, however, I hate: she reminds me of myself.
They ask her, ‘What, Miss Silvester, can you remember of the events of that night?’—‘I am not sure. I am not certain.’
‘Do you remember leaving your own house?’—‘Yes, sir.’
‘Do you remember arriving at Mrs Brink’s?’—‘Yes, sir.’
‘What was the first thing that happened to you there?’—‘I took tea, in a room with Mrs Brink and Miss Dawes.’
‘And how did Mrs Brink seem to you? Did she seem healthy?’—‘Oh yes!’
‘Did you observe her manner towards Miss Dawes? Did it strike you as being at all cool or unfriendly, or in any way remarkable?’—‘It was only friendly. She and Miss Dawes sat very near one another, and sometimes Mrs Brink held Miss Dawes’s hand and touched her hair or her face.’
‘And can you remember anything that was said by Mrs Brink or Miss Dawes?’—‘Mrs Brink said to me that she thought I must be excited; I said that I was. She said I was a lucky girl, to have Miss Dawes to teach me. Then Miss Dawes said that she guessed it was time for Mrs Brink to go and leave us. Then Mrs Brink went.’
‘Mrs Brink left you alone with Miss Dawes? What happened then?’—‘Miss Dawes took me to the room in which we usually sat, that had the cabinet in it.’
‘This is the room in which Miss Dawes conducted her séances, her so-called “dark circles”?’—‘Yes.’
‘And the cabinet is the covered space in which Miss Dawes would sit when she became entranced?’—‘Yes.’
‘What happened next, Miss Silvester?’—[Witness hesitates.] ‘Miss Dawes sat with me and held my hands, and then she said she must prepare herself. She went into her cabinet and when she came out she had removed her gown and was dressed only in her petticoat. Then she said that I must do the same—only, I mean, not in the cabinet, but before her.’
‘She asked you to remove your gown? Why do you think she did that?’—‘She said that I must do it for the development to work properly.’
‘Did you remove your gown? You must only tell us the truth, and not mind these gentlemen.’—‘Yes, I did. That is, Miss Dawes did, because my maid was in another room.’
‘Did Miss Dawes also ask you to remove any item of jewellery? ’—‘She told me to take off my brooch, because it had been pinned right through the clothing beneath my gown and I shouldn’t have been able to get the gown off without ripping it.’
‘What did she do with the brooch?’—‘I don’t remember. My maid Lupin got it back for me later.’
‘Very well. Now, tell me. After Miss Dawes had induced you to remove your gown, how did you feel?’—‘I felt strange at first, but then I found I did not mind. The night was such a hot one, and Miss Dawes had locked the door.’
‘Was the room brightly lit, or rather dark?’—‘It was not dark, but not very bright either.’
> ‘You could see Miss Dawes quite clearly?’—‘Oh yes.’
‘And what happened next?’—‘Miss Dawes took my hands again, and then began to say there was a spirit coming.’
‘How did that make you feel?’—‘It made me feel afraid. Miss Dawes said I mustn’t be afraid, because the spirit was only Peter.’
‘That is, the spirit allegedly named “Peter Quick”?’—‘Yes. She said it was only Peter, and I had seen him before at the dark circle and now he only wanted to come and help in the development.’
‘Did you feel less afraid then?’—‘No, I began to be more afraid. I closed my eyes. Miss Dawes said, “Look Madeleine, he is here”, and I heard a sound as if there were someone in the room, but I didn’t look, I was too afraid.’
‘You are sure you heard another person there?’—‘I think so.’
‘What happened then?’—‘I am not sure. I was so frightened I began to cry. Then I heard Peter Quick say “Why are you crying?”’
‘Are you sure that it was another voice that said that, and not Miss Dawes’s?’—‘I think so.’
‘Was there ever a moment at which Miss Dawes and this other person spoke at once, together?’—‘I can’t say. I am sorry, sir.’
‘You need not be sorry, Miss Silvester, you are very brave. Tell us, what happened now, can you remember that?’—‘I remember, sir, that a hand was put upon me and the hand was very rough and cold.’ [Witness weeps.]
‘Very well, Miss Silvester, you are doing very well indeed. I have just a few more questions. Can you answer them?’—‘I will try.’
‘Good. You felt a hand upon you. Where was the hand placed?’—‘On my arm, sir, above the elbow.’
‘Miss Dawes claims that at this point you began to cry out. Do you remember that?’—‘No, sir.’
‘Miss Dawes says that you fell into a kind of fit, that she attempted to calm you and, in the attempt, was obliged to grip you rather hard. Do you remember that?’—‘No, sir.’
‘What do you remember of this time?’—‘I don’t remember anything, sir, until Mrs Brink came and opened the door.’
‘Mrs Brink came. How did you know it was she? Did you now have your eyes open?’—‘No, I still had my eyes closed, because I was still afraid. But I knew it was Mrs Brink because I heard her calling at the door, then I heard the door unlocked and opened, then Mrs Brink’s voice again, very near me.’
‘Your maid has told us already that at this point she heard you calling out to the house. That you cried out, “Mrs Brink, oh Mrs Brink, they mean to murder me!” Do you remember calling that?’—‘No, sir.’
‘You are certain that you don’t remember calling or saying those words?’—‘I am not sure, sir.’
‘Can you think of why you might have said such a thing?’—‘No, sir. Except, that I was very frightened of Peter Quick.’
‘Frightened, because you thought he meant to do you harm?’—‘No, sir, only frightened because he was a ghost.’
‘I see. Well, can you tell us now what happened when you heard Mrs Brink open the door? Can you tell us what she said?’—‘She said, “Oh Miss Dawes”, and then she cried out “Oh!” again. And then I heard her call out for her mother, and her voice seemed peculiar.’
‘In what way “peculiar”?’—‘Very thin and high. Then I heard her fall.’
‘What happened then?’—‘Then I think Miss Dawes’s servant came, and I heard Miss Dawes tell her to help her with Mrs Brink.’
‘And were your eyes open now, or still shut?’—‘Now I opened them.’
‘Was there any sign of any kind of spirit in the room?’—‘No.’
‘Was there anything in the room, that had not been there before you closed your eyes—for example, any item of clothing? ’—‘I don’t think so.’
‘And what happened next?’—‘I tried to put my gown on, and after a minute Lupin, my maid, came. When she saw me she began to cry, and that made me cry again. Then Miss Dawes said that we must be quiet, and that we should help her with Mrs Brink.’
‘Mrs Brink had fallen upon the floor?’—‘Yes, and Miss Dawes and her servant were trying to lift her.’
‘Did you help her, as she had asked you?’—‘No, sir, Lupin wouldn’t let me. She took me downstairs to the parlour, and went to fetch me a glass of water. Then I don’t remember any other thing until after my mother came.’
‘Do you remember speaking to your mother when she arrived?’—‘No, sir.’
‘You don’t remember saying anything indelicate to your mother? You don’t recall being encouraged to say anything indelicate, by Miss Dawes?’—‘No, sir.’
‘Did you see Miss Dawes again, before you left?’—‘I saw her speaking to my mother.’
‘How did she seem to you then?’—‘She was crying.’
There are other witnesses—servants, the policeman who was summoned by Mrs Silvester, the doctor who attended Mrs Brink, friends of the house; but the paper does not have space for all their testimonies, and the next it gives is that of Selina herself. I hesitated a little before I read her speeches, and imagined her being led across the gloomy court. Her hair, I think, would be very splendid and bright, for all the gentlemen around her would be in suits of black; and I think her cheek would be pale. She ‘bore herself bravely’—so The Spiritualist says. It says the court was filled with people come to see her examined; and that her voice was rather low, and sometimes shook.
She was questioned first by her own lawyer, Cedric Williams, and then by her prosecutor, Mr Locke—Mr Halford Locke, that is, who came to dinner once at Cheyne Walk, and whom my brother knows to be a very fine man.
Mr Locke said: ‘Miss Dawes, you resided with Mrs Brink in her own house for a period of a little less than a year. Is that right?’—‘Yes.’
‘On what terms did you reside there?’—‘I was Mrs Brink’s guest.’
‘You did not pay a rent to Mrs Brink?’—‘No.’
‘Where did you reside, before taking up a place in Mrs Brink’s household?’—‘I lived in rooms in a hotel at Holborn, at Lamb’s Conduit Street.’
‘How long did you intend to remain the guest of Mrs Brink?’—‘I did not think about it.’
‘You had no thoughts at all, for your future?’—‘I knew the spirits would guide me.’
‘I see. Was it spiritual guidance that led you to Mrs Brink?’—‘Yes. Mrs Brink came to see me at the hotel at Holborn that I have spoken of, and was moved to ask me to attend her at her own house.’
‘You conducted spiritual sittings with Mrs Brink, in private? ’—‘Yes.’
‘And you continued to offer private séances, to paying customers, at Mrs Brink’s house?’—‘At first I did not. Later it was impressed upon me by the spirits that I ought to. But I never obliged my sitters to pay me anything.’
‘You did indeed hold séances, however; and it was the custom, I believe, for your visitors to leave you gifts of money, at the conclusion of your services to them?’—‘Yes, if they liked.’
‘What was the nature of your services to them?’—‘I would consult the spirits in their behalf.’
‘How would you do this? Would you put yourself into a trance in order to do this?’—‘Usually.’
‘And what would happen then?’—‘Well, I would have to rely on my sitters to tell me, afterwards. But usually a spirit would speak through me.’
‘And often a “spirit” would appear?’—‘Yes.’
‘Is it true that most of your customers—pardon me, your “sitters”—were ladies and girls?’—‘I was visited by gentlemen, as well as by ladies.’
‘Did you receive gentlemen in private?’—‘No, never. I only ever received gentlemen as sitters at dark circles, when there were always also ladies present.’
‘But you received ladies individually, for private consultation with the spirits and for spiritual tuition?’—‘Yes.’
‘These private sittings placed you in a position, I should say, to exercis
e considerable influence over your lady sitters? ’—‘Well, it was in order to receive my influence that they came to me.’
‘And what, Miss Dawes, was the nature of this influence? ’—‘What do you mean?’
‘Would you say it was of a healthy, or an unhealthy nature?’—‘It was healthy, and very spiritual.’
‘And some ladies found this influence beneficial in the alleviation of certain indispositions and complaints. Miss Silvester, in fact, was one such lady.’—‘Yes. Many ladies came to me with symptoms such as hers.’
‘Symptoms such as . . .?’—‘Such as weakness, nervousness, and aches.’
‘And your treatment—what was it? [Witness hesitates.] Was it homeopathic? Mesmeric? Galvanic?’—‘It was spiritual. I have often found that ladies with symptoms such as Miss Silvester’s were spiritually sensitive—that they were clairvoyante, but their powers needed developing.’
‘And this was the particular service you offered?’—‘Yes.’
‘And it involved—what? Rubbing? Shampooing?’—‘There was a certain amount of laying on of hands.’
‘Rubbing and shampooing.’—‘Yes.’
‘For which your visitors were required to remove certain articles of clothing?’—‘Sometimes. Ladies’ gowns are often cumbersome. I think, any doctor of medicine would ask his patients to do the same.’
‘He would not, I hope, also remove his own clothes.’ [Laughter.]—‘Spiritual and ordinary medicine require different conditions.’
‘I am glad of it. Let me ask you, Miss Dawes: were many of your lady callers—I mean the kind, now, who came to you for spiritual shampoos—were many of them wealthy?’—‘Well, some were.’
‘I should say they all were, were they not? You would not, would you, ever have introduced a woman into Mrs Brink’s house, who was anything other than a lady?’—‘Well, no, I should not have done that.’
‘And Madeleine Silvester, of course, you knew to be a very wealthy girl. It was for that very reason, was it not, that you sought to make her your particular friend?’—‘No, not at all. I was only sorry for her, and hoped to make her better.’