_For the Table Book._
One December evening, the year before last, returning to T--, in the
northern extremity of W--, in a drisling rain, as I approached the
second milestone, I observed two men, an elder and a younger, walking
side by side in the horse-road. The elder, whose appearance indicated
that of a labourer in very comfortable circumstances, was in the path
directly in front of my horse, and seemed to have some intention of
stopping me; on my advancing, however, he quietly withdrew from the
middle of the road to the side of it, but kept his eyes firmly fixed on
me, which caused also, on my part, a particular attention to him. He
then accosted me, “Sir, I beg your pardon.”--“For what, my man?”--“For
speaking to you, sir.”--“What have you said, then?”--“I want to know the
way to S--.”--“Pass on beyond those trees, and you will see the spire
before you.”--“How far is it off, sir?”--“Less than two miles.”--“Do you
know it, sir?”--“I was there twenty minutes ago.”--“Do you know the
gentleman there, sir, that wants a man to go under ground for
him?”--“For what purpose?” (imagining, from the direction in which I met
the man, that he came from the mining districts of S--, I expected that
his object was to explore the neighbourhood for coals.) His answer
immediately turned the whole train of my ideas. “To go under ground for
him, to take off the _bloody hand_ from his carriage.”--“And what is
that to be done for?”--“For a thousand pounds, sir. Have you not heard
any thing of it, sir?”--“Not a word.”--“Well, sir, I was told that the
gentleman lives here, at S--, at the hall, and that he offers a thousand
pounds to any man that will take off the _bloody hand_ from his
carriage.”--“I can assure you this is the first word I have heard on the
subject.”--“Well, sir, I have been told so;” and then, taking off his
hat, he wished me a good morning.
I rode slowly on, but very suddenly heard a loud call, “Stop, sir,
stop!” I turned my horse, and saw the man, who had, I imagined, held a
short parley with his companion, just leaving him, and running towards
me, and calling out, “Stop, sir.” Not quite knowing what to make of this
extraordinary accost and vehement call, I changed a stout stick in my
left hand to my right hand, elevated it, gathered up the reins in my
left, and trotted my horse towards him; he then walked to the side of
the road, and took off his hat, and said, “Sir, I am told that if the
gentleman can get a man to go under ground for him, for seven years, and
never see the light, and let his nails, and his hair, and his beard grow
all that time, that the king will then take off the _bloody hand_ from
his carriage.”--“Which then is the man who offers to do this? is it you,
or your companion?”--“I am the man, sir.”--“O, you intend to undertake
to do this?”--“Yes, sir.”--“Then all that I can say is, that I now hear
the first word of it from yourself.” At this time the rain had
considerably increased, I therefore wished the man a good morning, and
left him.
I had not, however, rode above a hundred and fifty yards before an idea
struck me, that it would be an act of kindness to advise the poor man to
go no further on such a strange pursuit; but, though I galloped after
them on the way I had originally directed them, and in a few minutes saw
two persons, who must have met them, had they continued their route to
S--, I could neither hear any thing of them, nor see them, in any
situation which I could imagine that they might have taken to as a
shelter from the heavy rain. I thus lost an opportunity of endeavouring
to gain, from the greatest depths of ignorance, many points of inquiry I
had arranged in my own mind, in order to obtain a developement of the
extraordinary idea and unfounded offer, on which the poor fellow
appeared to have so strongly set his mind.
On further inquiry into the origin of this _strange notion_ of the
bloody hand in heraldry, and why the badge of honour next to nobility,
and perpetuated from the ancient kings of Ulster, should fall, in two
centuries, into indelible disgrace, I find myself in darkness equal to
that of the anticipated cavern of the poor deluded man, and hitherto
without an aid superior to himself. Under these circumstances, present
the inquiry to you, and shall be among many others, greatly gratified to
see it set in a clear light by yourself, or some friendly correspondent.