The Prophet: Conan Doyle in Sydney
The Prophet: Conan Doyle in Sydney is an article written by Doug Elliott published in The Passengers' Log (Vol. 13 No. 3 & 4 and Vol. 13 No. 1 & 2, April-October 2009).
Doug Elliott's article reconstructs Arthur Conan Doyle's 1920–1921 Spiritualist lecture tour in Sydney, tracing his public appearances, press reception, séances, lectures, and controversial promotion of psychic phenomena during a period when he had become one of the world's most visible advocates of Spiritualism. Blending biography, historical research, newspaper accounts, and cultural context, the essay portrays Conan Doyle as a charismatic but deeply divisive figure whose certainty in Spiritualism transformed him from creator of Sherlock Holmes into what Elliott calls "The Prophet" in the eyes of supporters and sceptics alike.
The Prophet: Conan Doyle in Sydney
The travellers: L-R: Major AH Wood, Adrian, Jean, Lena Jean ("Baby"), Arthur, Denis, Mary Jakeman (Wanderings of a Spiritualist).
Petty's Hotel 1932
Sir Joseph Cook, around 1916, at about the time he met Sir Arthur Conan Doyle at the front. / John Greig Latham, in the 1920s.
Modern Manly Beach (foreground) looking south. The peninsula of central Manly cuts across the picture from upper left to lower right, separating the ocean beach from Sydney Harbour, the body of water in the background. The main ocean entrance to the harbour is the narrow channel between North Head and South Head, at the upper left of the picture. The skyscrapers of the Sydney central business district pierce the horizon at the upper right.
Sydney Town Hall (left, with clock tower) in the early 20th century. George Street cuts through the lower left. The portico at the main entrance, affording a covered place for patrons to set down from their carriages, was removed in 1934. To the right across Druitt Street is the domed Queen Victoria Building, happily rescued from decay and restored in the 1980s, today a convenient meeting point for visiting Sherlockians.
The farewell luncheon in London. This was Conan Doyle's first slide shown in Sydney.
One of ACD's psychic photos (L). Conan Doyle claimed the spirit "extra" on the right is his son Kingsley (R). You be the judge.
Followers of Conan Doyle have no doubt read the details of his five-month trip to Australia in 1920-21 in his own account of the journey, Wanderings of a Spiritualist, (1) which is still available in various modern editions. Since we are the Sydney Passengers and since I am newly transplanted into Sydney soil myself, I thought it would be fun to go back to primary sources — contemporary press reports to complement Conan Doyle's reminiscences — and focus on the author's time in this city and environs. Aside from fleshing out the details of the visit, I wanted to better understand some of the people, sights and experiences of which he wrote.
I am aware that many readers of this journal are not from Sydney, nor indeed have they ever been here, so I have written with such readers in mind. For those long-time residents of the city by the harbour who are reading this on Bondi Beach or the Manly Ferry, my apologies in advance for telling you some things you already know.
Saturday 13 November 1920: Arrival
The Saturday morning travellers at Sydney's Central Station must have wondered what kind of invasion it was. It was apparent that the arrival of the Melbourne express was a major event. Crowds of eager Sydneysiders clutching flowers and manic journalists gripping notebooks all jockeyed for position as the train chuffed to a halt. Disembarking passengers emerged wide-eyed into the waiting mob and somehow managed to extricate themselves with some difficulty. But the motley welcoming committee was not interested in them.
Shortly a tall, heavy-set man with a substantial moustache stepped somewhat tentatively onto the platform. He had clearly not expected the November Sydney heat wave and was perspiring freely in his grey suit, his thin greying hair pasted to his head. The crowd pressed forward with a cheer and he responded with a practised formal smile, though his eyes revealed a touch of apprehension. If he'd only himself to worry about it would be one thing, but his family waited behind him in the carriage Somehow he needed to get them and their luggage safely through the throng and off to their hotel.
The man was Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, arguably the world's most famous living author and certainly its most famous spiritualist. Sydney was far from his first stop on his Australian tour and he knew something of the ordeal ahead of them. Later he would write of the experience:
- I have a great shrinking from such deputations as they catch you at the moment when you are exhausted and unkempt after a long journey, and when you need all your energies to collect your baggage and belongings so as to make your way to your hotel. But on this occasion it was so hearty, and the crowd of faces beamed such good wishes upon us that it was quite a pick-me-up to all of us. "God bless you!" and "Thank God you have come!" reached us from all sides. My wife, covered with flowers, was hustled off in one direction, while I was borne away in another, and each of the children was the centre of a separate group. Major Wood had gone off to see to the luggage, and Jakeman was herself embedded somewhere in the crowd, so at last I had to shout, "Where's that little girl? Where's that little boy?" until we reassembled and were able, laden with bouquets, to reach our carriage.
One of the reporters applied himself to his notebook and penned a colourful account of the event that appeared in the next day's paper:
- When Sir Conan Doyle, his wife and their three children arrived from Melbourne by the express this morning, an assembly of Spiritualists accorded them a splendid greeting. Men swung their hats high and cheered, women danced in their excitement, and many of their number rushed the party with rare bouquets. The excitement was at its highest, and Sir Conan being literally carried along the platform by the pressing crowds, when a digger arrived on the outskirts. "Who's that?" he asked of nobody in particular: Almost immediately an urchin replied, "The bloke that wrote 'Sherlock Holmes.'"
As he and his wife and their servants struggled to muster children and luggage into the waiting carriage, Conan Doyle wasn't thinking about Holmes. He was a man on a mission, what he believed to be the greatest mission of his life, to deliver to the Australian masses the greatest news they would ever receive, that life did not end with death and that the living could communicate with their dead as easily as picking up a telephone.
The spiritualist movement had started in 1848 in Hydesville, New York, when two young sisters Kate and Margaret Fox had begun exhibiting mediumistic powers — the word did not even exist at the time. Through table liftings and disembodied tappings, they claimed to deliver messages from a former resident of their house who had been murdered. The fame of the sisters soon spread. Before long others demonstrated similar powers and the new religion spread across the world. The staggering loss of life in World War I affected. literally every home in England giving Spiritualism a tremendous boost as bereft families clutched at the possibility of talking with their lost loved ones.
In 1916, after years of dispassionate investigation of psychic phenomena, Conan Doyle dramatically and unreservedly embraced Spiritualism. Unwilling to accept any possibility of doubt in the matter, he determined that the rest of his life should be dedicated to delivering the new truth to the world and immediately set himself a gruelling schedule of lectures around Britain, forgoing financial gain and neglecting much of his other writing. He was faced with ridicule and derision on many fronts, but also with gratitude and relief from those who he convinced.
In 1920 he accepted an invitation from Australian spiritualist groups to lecture here. (2) Because of the distances and time involved he felt he could not abandon his family, so he determined to make it a holiday as well as a working trip. The resulting entourage made for challenging logistics along the way. Arthur was 61. His second wife Jean (46) clearly enjoyed the reflected celebrity she received and just as clearly doted on her husband and indulged her three children. Denis (11), Adrian (10) and Lena Jean (8). Fortunately for the parents, they had with them a stalwart pair of familiar servants. Major Alfred H. Wood ("Woody"), his secretary, had known Conan Doyle since their days. playing football together in Southsea in the 1880s. Mary Jakeman was Jean's maid and helped manage the children.
The party's first port of call in Australia had been Fremantle — the port of Perth, Western Australia on September 17. Their arrival in Sydney followed stops and lectures in Adelaide and Melbourne. Sir Arthur had been briefed about Sydney and came armed with statistics. Nonetheless, he found the city a pleasant surprise:
- I had no idea that Sydney was so great a place. The population is now very nearly a million, which represents more than one-sixth of the whole vast continent. (3) It seems a weak point of the Australian system that 41 per cent. of the whole population dwell in the six capital cities. (4) The vital statistics of Sydney are extraordinarily good, for the death rate is now only twelve per thousand per annum. (5) Our standard in such matters is continually rising, for I can remember the days when twenty per thousand was reckoned to be a very good result. In every civic amenity Sydney stands very high.
The party settled into Petty's Hotel on York Street across from the old Scottish Church just north of Wynyard Park, "an old-world hostel with a very quiet, soothing atmosphere." The building had housed a hotel since 1833 and had long been the first choice of distinguished overseas visitors. There is a story that Robert Louis Stevenson once showed up from Samoa dressed as a beachcomber and was refused entry but in fairness there are such tales about Stevenson and virtually every hotel in Sydney, so one must be sceptical. (6)
The afternoon was dedicated to press interviews. After almost thirty years as a celebrity, Conan Doyle was comfortable facing the press, amiable and otherwise. But the Sydney reporters on this steamy Saturday were in a distinctly uncombative mood. "Big and breezy, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle made his visitors feel thoroughly at home as he sped briskly downstairs to meet them... and greeted them in his strong bass voice and with hearty hand-shaking," enthused the Sydney Morning Herald. The Sun attempted a pen portrait of the "big, genial Englishmen":
- Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wears tortoise-shell glasses but prefers while talking to take them off. His grey moustache and his greying hair — there are no signs of baldness — are the only features that speak of middle age. His face is hardly lined and his frequent smile is young. The famous author is a typical good-humoured and alert-minded Englishman, but his whole outlook is serious; he has come to Australia at his own expense, on a mission.
Arthur made passing mention of the heat but claimed to not be bothered by it: he recalled once. returning from Greenland and departing shortly to west Africa, claiming that none of the extreme temperatures had affected him. One reporter had played cricket with Conan Doyle in England. The English cricket team was currently in Australia for a series of test matches and Sir Arthur was evidently well informed about their earlier match in Melbourne, so the two old. acquaintances began to discuss the prospects for the matches, no doubt to the displeasure of the other reporters with deadlines fast approaching.
As was often the case late in Conan Doyle's career, he wanted only to talk about the wondrous. revelation of Spiritualism and the importance of his mission. Everyone else wanted to talk about Sherlock Holmes. To their credit they approached the subject gently, first encouraging Conan Doyle to review his literary career. He was hardly reluctant. He spoke of his first book, written at the age of six, and his facility for story-telling learned from his mother. He smoothly led them through A Study in Scarlet, Micah Clarke, The White Company and Sir Nigel, the latter two "the best books I ever wrote" because "they are deeper studies than mere works of fiction." He mentioned Rodney Stone, reminding them that he had adapted it for the stage.
When the talk turned to Sherlock Holmes, he recalled how he had chosen his detective's name. "I wanted some good name which would prove easy and at the same time not too obvious. It would hardly do, for example, to call your detective 'Inspector Sharp'! 'Sherrington Hope' suggested itself, and 'Sherringford Holmes,' and various other combinations before I hit upon. 'Sherlock Holmes'." He told one reporter that "Sherlock" was the name of a famous cricketer. Weary of Holmes, Conan Doyle had attempted to kill him off (in 'The Final Problem') in 1893. Ten years later he was finally persuaded by publishers forcing money into his unwilling wallet to revive the detective. After a burst of activity in 1903-4 produced 13 new stories, he had written very few since — only seven new tales had appeared between 1904 and 1920 — so eventually the question came up: was Holmes dead? Conan Doyle, who had by now developed a veneer of patient tolerance for such questions, replied good-naturedly, "I threw him over a cliff, and I believe he is dead, but there is this important fact: no coroner has ever sat on him."
The discussion drifted to recent literature. Conan Doyle lamented that the recent trend to cheap editions and free libraries prevented one from really appreciating books. "While a man who goes into a public library may taste a great deal of literature he cannot take a book home with him and prize it as his own as he pores over it and makes marginal notes on it if he wishes. There's where the difference comes in. A book must be your very own before you can get the real joy of it." Of the books that Conan Doyle currently owned, he now focussed his attention. on the some 200 on the subject of Spiritualism and the paranormal (he referred to the topic as "psychology"), so "he did not feel inclined to discuss present-day tendencies in literature."
One subject he did not shy away from was the performance of Australians in the European war. "Yes, I saw the Australian troops smash the Hindenburg Line — I saw more of that great victory than any other civilian." At the request of Australian High Command, Conan Doyle had visited the Australian battlefront at Amiens. beginning 27 September 1918. He mentioned two Australians who had travelled with him from London to the front: Sir Joseph Cook and the son of Sir Arthur Rickard. (7)
The Sun report described Jean as "charming and youthful-looking." She was overcome by the floral tribute at the station and was eager to see the city's famous harbour. She noted, with no apparent context, that her husband was a master of scientific reasoning and that he had solved by pure deduction a number of mysteries that had baffled the police. Perhaps she was referring to the case of George Edalji (1906) or Oscar Slater (1912).
Jean was the subject of her own interview, which appeared in the Sydney Morning Herald's Women's column on the following Monday. The reporter described her as "a tall woman almost athletic in appearance. She dresses in a way that indicates that her interest in Spiritualism. has not taken her beyond the things that appeal to the average woman. She is a womanly. woman in the truest sense of the word." Jean reported that she used her knowledge of Spiritualism. in raising her children. "I think it is a dreadful thing that children should be taught to believe in hellfire and purgatory. Much better is it to teach them to grow up with the idea that death is as easy as passing into the next room; that every little act of theirs on this earth tells, and that they are living and working for something definite."
Sunday 14 November 1920: Manly Excursion
Conan Doyle was clearly looking forward to his first lecture on Monday evening. But always there was the heat. Though clothing styles had relaxed somewhat from the 1890s nadir of strangling, multi-layered ensembles, the fashion in England still favoured three-piece woollen suits for men and neck-to-toe outfits for women. It is unlikely that the rest of the party were as immune to the Sydney heat as was Arthur. In those days before air conditioning there were only two possible respites: the seaside or the mountains. So following the advice, no doubt, of their wise tour manager, the family strolled down to the harbour and joined the crowds of weekend holiday-makers aboard the Manly ferry.
Since 1850 Manly has been a Mecca for Sydney inland dwellers looking for a day at the beach. Occupying a narrow peninsula between the inner harbour and the ocean, it was discovered by the English Captain Arthur Phillip in 1788, who wrote of the natives that "their confidence and manly behaviour made me give the name of Manly Cove to this place."
The little over-dressed party of seven caught one of the frequent ferry sailings at Circular Quay, Sydney's main commuter ferry terminal. (8) The one-way fare was 5d for adults and 2d for children. (9) After a delightful 30-minute trip along the harbour, they approached the Manly wharf and saw a built-up townscape fronted by two tiny beaches. Their scouting expedition was a disaster. "We thought so little of Manly as a seaside resort," he told at reporter, "that we didn't trouble to get off the boat. And when we got back we discovered that we had not seen the real Manly at all. The real Manly, they say, is the ocean beach side." And indeed, had they disembarked and followed the crowd streaming eastward along the Corso, lined with tourist shops and pubs, a breath-taking vista would have opened up before them: a long curve of white sand beach bracketed by cliffs and washed by crashing ocean breakers.
But as a consolation they did get to see the harbour, mightily impressive even before its iconic bridge (1932) and opera house (1973) had arrived. "The splendid landlocked bay with its numerous side estuaries and its narrow entrance is a grand playground for a sea-loving race. On a Saturday it is covered with every kind of craft from canoe to hundred-tonner. The fact that the water swarms with sharks seems to present no fears to these strong-nerved people and I have found myself horrified as I watched little craft, manned by boys, heeling over in a fresh. breeze until the water was up to their gunwales." I have, on occasion, shared the same apprehension.
Monday 15 November 1920: 'The Human Argument'
Conan Doyle's tour was under the management of Carlyle Greenwood Smythe (1865-1925), one of Australia's greatest impresarios. Conan Doyle described him as "a small alert competent gentleman, with whom I at once got on pleasant terms, which were never once clouded during our long travels together upon our tour. I was fortunate indeed to have so useful and so entertaining a companion, a musician, a scholar, and a man of many varied experiences." Smythe had followed his father, Robert, into journalism and then lecture tour management. (The two partnered in 1895 to manage Mark Twain's world tour which included a time in Australia.) He managed tours by Annie Besant and Roald Amundsen. Widely traveled, he was no doubt a scintillating traveling companion for Conan Doyle.
Smythe's assistant Miss Freda Sternberg (ca 1880-1971) was also a person of accomplishments. Born in Tasmania, she had in 1918 travelled as secretary to Australian opera great Dame Nellie Melba. In 1929 she married George Barrymore and, as Freda Barrymore, embarked on a long and successful career in journalism, writing articles and book reviews for newspapers and magazines in Australia, America and London.
Ticket sales at Cole's Book Arcade for the Town Hall lectures had been brisk. Unreserved seats. had gone for 3/- and 2/- (at the back), or reserved chairs could be had for 5/-. Smythe's newspaper ads had been at great pains to explain that Conan Doyle would be giving "THREE ENTIRELY DIFFERENT LECTURES' on Monday, Wednesday and Saturday (matinee), under the general title of 'Death and The Hereafter: the New Revelation.' The first would be 'The Human Argument', the second, 'The Religious Argument' and the third, 'Pictures of Psychic Phenomena'. The first lecture had sold out of reserved seats on the first day, so the management assigned. extra reserved seats in the balcony.
On Sunday, the day before Arthur's first lecture, the pulpits of Sydney weighed in on the Spiritualism debate. Rev. S.G. Fielding of St. Mathias' Church, Paddington, declared that it would be irresponsible of him not to point out "the perils attending such forbidden intercourse" as talking with the dead. He added that, “the séance was frequently the road to insanity and depravity." On the other side of the argument, Rev. Walters spoke from his Unitarian pulpit. that Conan Doyle's "mission was to abolish the fear of death, to affirm the continuity of life. here and hereafter, and to declare the possibility, under suitable conditions, of communication between ourselves and the so-called departed... I welcome and wish success to Conan Doyle's mission to preach glad tidings and to heal the broken-hearted. Who could wish for a grander or diviner mission than that?"
Town Hall, on the corner of George and Druitt Streets in the heart of the city, is an iconic Sydney landmark, built between 1868 and 1890 of local sandstone in a grand Victorian style. When it was completed, its clock tower was the tallest building in the city. In 1920 — and indeed until the Sydney Opera House was completed in 1973 — Town Hall's main hall was the concert venue for the city. (10)
By Monday morning, Arthur was clearly not well. His throat was raspy and sore and there was some concern that he may have to cancel the evening lecture, his first in Sydney. He remained in his room during the day and by the end of the afternoon was able to offer reassurances that he was fit enough to proceed. By evening the main hall was packed. The audience of about 3500 was a general cross-section of the population, but the Daily Telegraph the next day noted that patrons decked out in evening dress who arrived in carriages made up a large part of the audience.
Conan Doyle opened with an outline of the history of Spiritualism, making mention of the Fox sisters. He listed some of the scientific leaders who supported the movement, including Alfred Russel Wallace and Sir Oliver Lodge. Either these men were in a monstrous conspiracy to delude the public, he declared, or else they were mad, and there was no evidence for either possibility. He was at pains to lay out his own qualifications: thirty-four years of studying the subject which, he said, should make him an expert. He remarked that "he was popularly supposed to know a little about detective work (laughter)," an ability that might be of some value in his research.
He then recounted his own early experiences with mediums who failed to convince him that fraud was not possible. The crowd was hushed as he described the watershed séance in which he was first convinced that he had spoken with his dead son. Kingsley had served during the war in the British army medical corps where he survived wounds only to succumb to influenza in 1918 just short of his twenty-sixth birthday. "In a voice of conviction Sir Arthur, speaking of this meeting with his son, challenged anyone to say that that was the devil. (Some clergymen had declared that the so-called spirit voices were in fact demons bent on deceiving the gullible.) Someone in the hall interrupted, "It is!"
Sir Arthur laughed. "If any man says that, it only shows the extraordinary twists that the human mind can take!" Another man stood up at the front of the hall, but before he was able to declare whether he was pro or con, the crowd shouted him down. In Wanderings, Conan Doyle recalled that, "one fanatic near the door cried out, Anti-Christ!"" several times and was then bundled out".
Sir Arthur went on to describe a later séance in which he heard from his brother Innes, who had also been killed in the war. Again, the communication was utterly convincing to him. He then indicated why he thought Spiritualism had not been widely accepted. He blamed the opposition. of the clergy, scientists and the press as well as the acts of fraudulent mediums. He defended the need for darkness in séances: psychoplasm, "the raw material of all phenomena," dissolved in light. Nonetheless, he admitted that some swindlers used the dark for evil purposes.
As Jean listened intently from her chair on stage with him, Arthur spoke in "a well-placed. voice, robust and with a touch of the Celtic accent" without notes for an hour and a half. His voice, though exhibiting "a trace of huskiness" towards the end, held out for the duration. The crowd was mostly on his side: there were frequent bursts of applause and the crowd laughed at the lighter moments. One report concluded:
- There was an impressive moment at the close of his address when he declared that his title, any little savings he had made, any literary reputation he had made, anything on earth save his honour and his family — all was as mud in the gutter when compared to the importance of this question. "I would lose all these," he affirmed, "rather than lose what I know of this subject."
Tuesday 16 November 1920: 'Great Writers'
The next day Arthur and Jean were guests of honour at a luncheon hosted by the New South Wales Institute of Journalists. Accompanying them were Smythe, his assistant Freda Sternberg and Major Wood, leaving Jakeman to entertain the children. The venue was the auditorium at Farmer's, the 12-storey Sydney department store at the corner of Pitt and Market Streets. (11) The subject of Arthur's talk, less formal and taxing than his spiritualist lectures, was 'Great Writers I Have Known'.
Lady Doyle's ensemble was the subject of minute description by the Telegraph's women's column:
- [A] much admired gown of aluminium-coloured satin meteor, the almost long skirt showing round bands of the satin and a square apron panel lined with rows of cut silver beads. The bodice was finished with a fichu of the silk and a scarf of grey tulle. She wore a diamond pendant, earrings and brooch and on her left hand several cluster diamond rings. He hat was of black tulle and black lace straw and she wore one of the new black pendant veils, thrown back. A grey kid bag and grey kid elbow-length gloves completed her costume.
Conan Doyle set the crowd at ease with his first joke. The only difference he could see between a literary man and a journalist was that the literary man took care to get the credit for what he did and the journalist was usually done out of the credit of his work. People have little reason to complain that great literature is dead, he said, when such a new generation of writers has emerged as Kipling, Wells, Shaw and Barrie.
He also listed some of the previous generation whom he had met, including Hardy and Meredith:
- I won Meredith's esteem in the most extraordinary manner. He asked me to lunch at his own little house at Box Hill. After looking at me a little, he asked, "Do you think if I sent for a large bottle of burgundy, you could drink the whole of it?" "In those days I was not daunted by trifles. (Laughter) I was like the man who hated to see a bottle with anything in it, and I intimated that I thought there would be no insuperable difficulty. (Laughter) He sent for the burgundy and the maid brought it into the room, a cobwebby bottle of old vintage. I drank it with great relish while Meredith watched me with considerable interest. When he said, "I was really glad to see you drink that bottle," I intimated that if ever he required similar help I should be ready to assist him. (Laughter) He told me that he had laid down the cellar of wines, but that the doctors had forbidden him to touch alcohol and “when I invite someone to lunch he usually drinks one glass, and there is that priceless stuff which I have taken such trouble to put there absolutely wasted." (Laughter) I was thus able to form a friendship with the old gentleman which lasted, I am proud to say, as long as he lived.
Conan Doyle praised editor James Payn for his great support for literature in general and himself as a struggling young author in particular. He recalled the quarrelsome Charles Reade, author of Conan Doyle's favourite novel The Cloister and the Hearth, and his editorial meeting. at dinner with Oscar Wilde that produced The Sign of Four and The Picture of Dorian Gray. He repeated, to general approval, his opinion of Wilde that, "he should have been hurried to at consulting room instead of a gaol."
The day featured a pleasant personal surprise for Arthur: one of the journalists introduced himself as Walter Jeffrey, a patient of Conan Doyle's from his years as a doctor in Southsea, Portsmouth from 1882-1890. Conan Doyle joked that the encounter came to him as somewhat of a relief, as it had been said of him that no living patient of his had ever been found. Jeffrey said that after his initial consultation with Dr. Doyle, he had cured himself many times since then by reading Sherlock Holmes. As the event broke up, Arthur and Jean were rapidly surrounded by a mob of hard-bitten journos waving their menus for autographs.
Wednesday 17 November 1920: 'The Religious Argument'
For his Wednesday lecture, 'Spiritualism: The Religious Argument', a supportive crowd again filled Town Hall. Conan Doyle opened by railing against the churches who objected to Spiritualism. "If psychic research is a proper thing, as they admit, I do not understand why they do not go further and allow it to impinge upon religion. They might as well plant apple trees and say, 'For goodness sake don't let us have any apples." He claimed that spiritualists had been "pushed out of" their own churches into spiritualist churches, which were organised on a Unitarian basis, but he believed the established churches should coexist with the spiritualist ones and absorb the new knowledge. In fact, he said, with only one in ten attending traditional churches, they should welcome the enthusiasts of the new religion as rescuers. He blamed the controversy on a few "violent and wrong-headed people."
Addressing the objection that we should not be "calling down the dead", he denied that that was happening. Rather, he said, we create conditions in which the dead can communicate with us. Ast to questions of the value of Spiritualism, he referred to trunks of letters he had which spoke to the hope and encouragement delivered to many bereaved people. He spoke of the passages from the Bible that the clergy quoted against him. These are from Deuteronomy and Leviticus, he said, Old Testament books which, as he was not Jewish, did not apply to him.
He launched into a detailed description of the afterlife, compiled from a number of séances. Then he concluded by comparing Spiritualism and early Christianity, saying that "Christ performed his miracles by psychic law" and that "Peter and Paul were trance mediums."
As the crowd filed out, some began singing a hymn to the tune of "Lead Kindly Light."
Thursday 18 November 1920: 'Reply to Conan Doyle'
Not for nothing did Conan Doyle title his lectures 'The Argument' for there was a well-organised opposition to the mere notion of Spiritualism. Carefully scheduled to have the last. word in the debate, an organisation called Christian Evidence Propaganda, fronted by David Simpson, booked Town Hall to present the public with a resounding counter-argument to Conan Doyle's impassioned and popular position.
Simpson was at pains to explain that he did not intend to mount a personal attack on Conan Doyle. On the contrary, he said Sydney people honoured a man who had stood for the British. Empire as he had done. At the same time he declared that Spiritualism was "a delusion and a sham." He challenged Conan Doyle to a debate on the matter but Sir Arthur, an experienced campaigner, had long since written off debates as a waste of time. He declined this particular invitation, pleading lack of time on his hectic tour schedule. Conan Doyle later wrote that, though the event offered free admission, it was not a success.
Though he avoided debates he did, however, charge into battle with his critics on another front: in the letters columns of the local papers. As early in his visit as 20 November a letter from Doyle appeared in the Daily Telegraph countering the arguments of one Wilfrid Blacket and other correspondents. A letter from David Simpson had also appeared in the press warning of the evil religious effects of Conan Doyle's mission. Conan Doyle replied at length, likening Simpson and his ilk to those who repressed the early Christians and who could justify any evil by a narrow and literal reading of the Bible. He advised Simpson "to reconsider your position, to be more charitable to your neighbours, and to devote your redundant energies to combating the utter materialism which is all round you, instead of railing so bitterly at those who are proving immortality and the need for good living in a way which meets their spiritual wants, even though it is foreign to yours." The exchange, typically, was not resolved in favour of either position.
A row erupted with a local photographer, Mark Blow, who contended that all spirit photographs. were fakes including the ones that Conan Doyle was showing. According to Conan Doyle, he offered £25 to charity if Blow could duplicate the effects and Blow offered the same sum if he could not. They met at the offices of a Sydney paper but failed to agree on the conditions for taking and processing the photographs, so the argument failed to resolve itself.
Mark Blow was a pioneering Sydney photographer and cinematographer who had been one of the first in the country to experiment with colour (in 1899). His Crown Studios' large facility on the corner of Market and George Streets was opened in 1893 and initially concentrated on portraiture, later moving into landscape work, creating postcards of New South Wales and Queensland. In 1897 he expanded into cinema, filming local events, and presented programs of music and film at the Sydney Polytechnic cinema, which he operated until 1899. He also shot film of the opening of the first Australian parliament in 1901. Blow was certainly familiar with photographic equipment and techniques and no doubt could have produced some impressive fake psychic photos. One wonders what the results would have been had the challenge moved forward.
Saturday 20 November 1920: Psychic Pictures'
It was the last of the planned three lectures, promising "FINAL AND POSITIVE PROOF", "A SERIES OF MODERN MIRACLES". When the lights dimmed at 2:30 on the Saturday afternoon, Conan Doyle stepped forward to face another packed Town Hall. There are those, he said, who allege that he was making money out of his tour. On the contrary, he declared, he had never taken one shilling out of any lecture he had delivered. The room erupted in applause. He continued, saying that any profits would be donated for the development of the Australian spiritualist church. More applause.
As he had in other Australian cities, he projected a series of some forty slides showing paranormal artefacts that had appeared on photographs after processing. Ghostly faces hovered over the heads of unsuspecting subjects. Pale swirls of mist slashed across. portraits. There was, as the Herald put it the next day, "plenty to interest and bewilder." Doyle. opened his slide show with the photograph (above) of the crowd attending the London farewell luncheon at the Holborn Restaurant. Of the 290 people present, 250 stood up when Conan Doyle asked who had been in direct contact with their dead.
One of the more startling images was a photo of himself (right) in which he claimed appeared the face of his son Kingsley peering over the subject's shoulder. The ghost has a wide-eyed expression and Conan Doyle admitted that, though his son is recognisable, it was not a good likeness. He explained this by saying that the spirits were experimenting with the new photographic technique "under the guidance of some higher control."
Slides of departed celebrities were shown, including W.T. Stead, the American Andrew Jackson Davis and John Ruskin. Many of the images were taken at meetings of the famous Crewe Circle of psychic investigators. Conan Doyle explained the precautions that this group took against fakery when they took psychic photos. "In the case of my photographs," he said, "if there was any swindle, this [holding up his hand] is the hand that did it, for none other ever touched the plates."
Across town, at the venerable Sydney Cricket Ground, the English team was struggling with the New South Wales side in their first day of a major international test cricket match. Conan Doyle, though most interested in the result, was, for obvious reasons, unable to attend.
Notes
1. London, Hodder & Stoughton, 1921. Hereinafter Wanderings.
2. Conan Doyle no doubt corresponded with leading spiritualists everywhere, so the invitation may have come from one of those, but I note with interest that on Australia Day (26 January) 1919 he was the guest in London. of the Australian and New Zealand Luncheon Club. [The Times, 27 January 1919]
3. Metropolitan Sydney's population today is 4.3 million, representing more than one-fifth of Australia: in 90 years the country has become even more urbanised. [Based on 2006 census figures in 2008 Year Book Australia. Canberra, Australian Bureau of Statistics, 2008, 180, 194].
4. Today's figure is 61% [Ibid, 194]. Settlement is not so much a "system" as a free-for-all. The country areas, where living off the land is a constant gamble against a harsh and capricious climate, attract a rare breed of tough, persistent people.
5. Currently 6.4 deaths per thousand per year. [Ibid, 182]
6. "The building was demolished during a frenzy of redevelopment in the 1970s and is now a multi-storey Travelodge. Across York Street is one of the city's busiest commuter bus depots and beneath the streets pulses a major railway station. Standing on the location today surrounded by office towers it is hard to imagine that in the 1800s Petty's would have had a harbour view.
7. "Sir Joseph Cook (1860-1947), a long-time parliamentarian, was Liberal Prime Minister of Australia from June 1913 to September 1914. At the time of Conan Doyle's visit to the front, the newly-minted G.C.M.G. was minister for the navy in the government of William Morris (Billy) Hughes. In 1921 he became Australian High Commissioner in London. He died in Sydney in 1947. [Australian Dictionary of Biography] Sir Arthur Rickard (1868-1948), real estate developer, was a man of considerable political influence. His son, the young artillery officer who Conan Doyle remembered, Arthur Lancelot Rickard (1895-1949) joined the Australian Militia in early 1915 and departed for Egypt as second lieutenant in September. For his efforts over the next three years he was several times mentioned in dispatches and was awarded the Military Cross. When Conan Doyle first met him in late 1918 he was captain in the 12th Army Brigade and had recently (September 7) married. Between the wars he was appointed a director in his father's firm in Sydney. He served with distinction in WWII and died in Sydney in 1949. [Australian Dictionary of Biography] Also present at the tour of the Australian front lines was "Commander Latham" [Memories and Adventures]. John Greig Latham (later Sir John) (1877-1964), at the time Joseph Cook's advisor, was at various times at reporter, barrister, head of naval intelligence, federal politician holding several cabinet portfolios, leader of the Opposition (National Party) and chief justice of the Australian High Court. [Australian Dictionary of Biography]
8. Of course a truly circular quay would be topologically impractical. Its original and apposite name was Semicircular Quay, but somewhere along the way the "semi" fell victim to the Australian penchant for abbreviation.
9. "Today the equivalent is AUD6.40 and 3.20 (USD5.00 and 2.50).
10. The main hall (now Centennial Hall) of Town Hall is still a popular venue for concerts and is notable for the Grand Organ, built in London and installed in 1890, at the time the largest in the world.
11. "The store was founded as a modest draper's shop by Joseph Farmer in 1840 and Farmer & Co. grew to become a Sydney institution. Farmers merged with Myer Emporium of Melbourne in 1960 and the name ceased to appear after 1976.
12. These were the days long before today's weighty republican movement had blossomed in Australia and before successive waves of immigration had transformed the country into a truly multicultural model. Australia saw itself as a child of mother England, whom it had loyally defended during the recent war, and to whom all loyalty and deference was owed.
13. Long, Chris: "Natural Colour Photography In Australia 1895-1960' in Shades of Light online (http://photo-web.com.au/ShadesofLight/), based on Newton, Gael: Shades of Light: Photography and Australia 1839-1988. Australian National Gallery, 1988.
Sources and Acknowledgements
Unless specifically noted, all quotes relating to specific events are from either Wanderings of a Spiritualist or the papers of the day following the event. Newspaper sources consulted were
- The Sydney Morning Herald
- The Daily Telegraph (Sydney)
- The Sun (Sydney)
- The Argus (Melbourne)
Biographical information about the prominent Australians who met Sir Arthur was frequently found in Australian Dictionary of Biography online <http://adbonline.anu.edu.au/adbonline.htm>.
I am indebted to the following people whose support filled in many key gaps in the story:
- Margaret Jewell for the description of a typical modern spiritualist church service.
- Robert Price, for information and photos about his great grandmother, Annie Foster-Turner.
- Arrigo Dorissa at Quality of Life & Social Justice Flagship, Australian Catholic University.
- Derham Groves for his exhaustive and invaluable bibliography of newspaper items covering Conan Doyle's Australian tour: 'Conan Among the Barbarians', in Holmes Away from Home. Melbourne, Library Council of Victoria, 1987.
- Bill Barnes for chasing elusive information about the Manly Congregational Church.
- The nice librarians at the State Library of NSW.
- Article courtesy The Sydney Passengers.
