Fifty Years a Medium – Chapter 7, 5/16 by Estelle Roberts

More recently that other mass-selling Sunday newspaper The People published a series of articles on survival after death, basing their findings in some instances on certain of my cases. I was not unnaturally proud when they named me among the five best- known women in the country, but I was embarrassed by the unexpected response.

During the next few days over five thousand letters from people all over the world came pouring in to me. Most of them were from strangers, though from their wording they might have been from old friends. Thus strong is the bond that unites all who are convinced of spirit communication.

My marriage to Arthur Roberts ended in the divorce court in 1938. I was granted a decree on the grounds of cruelty after successfully defending an action alleging misconduct. The hearing of these actions aroused wide-spread interest in the Press. Naively I had hoped they would pass through the courts as unnoticed as the vast majority of similar cases, but in this I was sadly disappointed.

The case was widely reported in all its unhappy details and in some instances the printed accounts did not stop at straight reporting. I was astonished to read in one paper, for instance, that Red Cloud would vindicate me at my next public meeting. As far as I knew this was a rumour completely without foundation. It made me very cross that people should think I could mix my private and professional lives in this manner.

At this time I was speaking each Sunday evening at the Aeolian Hall in Bond Street. Although the court had clearly established my innocence, I did not look forward to that first meeting after the verdict was announced. As a representative of a religion in which I sincerely and devoutly believed, I was fearful of the general public’s reaction to the widespread publicity I had received.

With trepidation I made my entrance through the big swing doors. Inside, the broad foyer and the staircase leading to the hall were packed with waiting people. There was no murmur of conversation, just and uncanny silence as I walked to the foot of the stairs.

Then somebody began to clap . . . and the applause was taken up all round – hands clapping, feet stamping, spontaneous cheering. The apprehension in my heart gave way to jubilation, an overpowering happiness swept through me. In the eyes of the general public I had been tried and not found wanting.