of a very remarkable event, or rather series of events, that happened
before Mr. Cranstoun's last departure for Scotland. One day whilst my
mother and I were last in London, we were talking of the immortality
of the soul; and the subject we were then upon led us insensibly to a
discourse of apparitions; and that again to a promise we made each
other, that the first of us who died should appear to the survivor,
after death, if permitted so to do. My mother dying first, in the
manner already related, I sometimes retired into the room where she
died, in hopes of seeing her. Here I lay near half a year, earnestly
desiring to see my mother, without being able either to see or hear
any thing. After this, my father lay in that room; but for some time
neither saw nor heard any thing. Afterwards, one night, he taxed me
with being at his chamber door, rapping at it, rushing with my
silk-gown, and refusing to answer him when he called to me. My chamber
was at a small distance from his, and into it he came the next
morning: demanding for what reason I had so frighted him. To this I
replied, "I had never been at his door, nor out of my bed the whole
night." He then inquired of all the maids, who only lay in the house,
whether any of them disturbed him; to which they all answered in the
negative. Soon after this, Mr. Cranstoun came to Henley, as has been
already observed, and was put into a room, called the hall-chamber,
over the great parlour; which was reckoned the best in the house. Here
he was shut out from the rest of the family. Till October 1750, above
a year after my mother's death, no noise at all was heard, excepting
that at Mr. Blandy's chamber-door above mentioned. But one morning in
the beginning of that month, Mr. Cranstoun being in the parlour, I
asked him, "What made him look so pale, and to seem so uneasy?" "I
have met," said he, "with the oddest accident this night that ever
befel me: the moment I got into bed, I heard the finest music that can
possibly be imagined. I sat up in my bed upon this, to hear from
whence it came; and it seemed to me to come from the middle of the
stairs. It continued, as I believe, at least above two hours." At this
I laughed, and said, "O Cranstoun, how can you be so whimsical?" "Tis
no whim," replied he, "for I really heard it; nor had I been asleep;
for it began soon after I got into bed." I then said, "Don't make
yourself uneasy, if it was so; since nothing ill, sure, can be
presaged by music." When my father came into the parlour, this topic
of conversation was instantly dropped. The next night, I, who lay
quite at the other end of the house, being awake, heard music, that
seemed to me to be in the yard, exceeding plainly. Upon this, I got up
and looked out of the window that faced the yard, but saw nothing. The
music, however, continued till near morning, when I fell asleep, and
heard no more of it. My mother's maid coming into my chamber, as
usual, to call me, I told her what I heard. This drew from her the
following saucy answer: "You see and hear, Madam, with Mr. Cranstoun's
eyes and ears." To which I made no other reply than, "Go, and send me
my own maid". As soon as I was dressed, I went into Mr. Cranstoun's
room, whom I found sitting therein by the fire. I asked him, at first
coming into the room, "How he had spent the night, and whether he had
heard the music?" To which he replied, "Yes, all night long; I could
not sleep a wink for it; nay, I got out of my bed, and followed it
into the great parlour, where it left me. I then returned into my own
room, and heard such odd noises in the parlour under me, as greatly
discomposed me." "I wish," added he, "you would send me up a bason of
tea." To which I replied, "Pray come down, as you are now up; for you
know my papa is better tempered when you are by, than when I am with
him alone." We then both went down to breakfast, but said nothing to
my father of what had happened.
A little while after this, Susannah Gunnel, my mother's maid, who had
before given me the impertinent answer, came into my bedchamber before
I was up, and told me she had heard the music. She also begged my
pardon for not believing me, when I had formerly averted the same
thing. Mr. Cranstoun, myself, and this maid then talked all together
about this surprising event. Mr. Cranstoun declared he had heard
noises, as well as music, which the other two at that time never
heard. The music generally began about twelve o'clock at night. My
father obliging the family to be in bed about eleven, I told the
aforesaid maid, who was an old servant in the family, "That she and I
would go together up into Mr. Cranstoun's room at twelve o'clock, and
try if we could find out what these noises were." According to
agreement, therefore, we went up into that room at the hour proposed;
and heard very clearly and most distinctly the music. The maid fell
asleep about three o'clock in the morning; but was soon waked with an
uncommon noise, heard both by Mr. Cranstoun and myself. This noise
resembled thumping or knocking at a door, which greatly terrified Mr.
Cranstoun, and the maid. In less than a minute after this, we all
three heard plainly the footsteps of my mother, as I then apprehended,
by which she seemed to be going down stairs towards the kitchen door,
which soon after seemed to be opened. We all three sat silent, and
heard the same invisible being come up stairs again. Upon this, I took
the candle, they still sitting by the fire, and was going to open the
chamber door, saying, "Surely it must be one of the maids." Mr.
Cranstoun observing this, cried out, "Perhaps it may be your father,
don't let him see you here." Then he took the candle, opened the door,
and looked down the stairs himself; but could perceive nothing at all.
In less than three minutes after this I said, "I will now go into my
room to bed, being fatigued and frightened almost to death." "I
believe," continued I, "it is near four." These words were no sooner
uttered than we all heard the former footsteps, as tho' some person
had been coming directly to the room where we were, but stopped short
at the door. Upon this I immediately catched up the candle, went to
the door and open'd it; but saw nothing, tho' I heard something
plainly go down the stairs. Then I went to the maid, who was half
asleep, and did not perfectly hear the last footsteps. But Mr.
Cranstoun heard them, and seemed greatly surprised. Then I bad the
maid go with me instantly to bed, not being able to keep up my spirits
any longer. Soon after this, Mr. Cranstoun and I went up to Fawley, to
pay a visit to the Rev. Mr. Stevens; and whilst we were there, I gave
my uncle an account of this surprising affair. But he laughed at me,
and called me little fool, for my pains. Then Mr. Cranstoun said,
"Sir, I myself heard it." To which Mr. Stevens made no other reply
than, "Sir, I don't doubt you think you heard it; but don't you
believe there is a great deal in fancy? May it not be some trick of
the servants?" To which I made answer, "No, Sir, that is impossible;
since if they could make the noise, they could not the music." Mr.
Stevens not giving much credit to what we affirmed, we immediately
changed the subject of discourse. By this time all the servants that
lay in the house had heard both the music and noise; and one morning
at breakfast, Mr. Cranstoun ventured to tell my father of the music.
At such a strange report, my father stared at him, and cried, "Are yon
light-headed?" In answer to which Mr. Cranstoun reply'd, "Your
daughter, sir, has heard the same, and so have all your servants." To
this my father, smiling, returned, "It was Scotch music, I suppose;"
and said some other things that shewed he was not in good humour. Upon
which it was thought fit immediately to drop the discourse.
Some few days after this, on a Sunday in the afternoon, Mr. Cranstoun
and I being alone in the parlour, Betty Binfield, the cook-maid, came
running into the room, and said, "There is such a noise in the room
over my master's study, for God's sake come into the yard and hear
it." But when we came, we could hear nothing. However, returning into
the parlour through the hall, we heard a noise over our heads, like
that of some heavy person walking. The room over the hall was once my
mother's dressing-room, tho' it then had a bed in it: but now, it was
my dressing-room, it had none at all. Hearing the noise, we both went
up into the room; but then, notwithstanding the late noise, could see
nothing at all. After which, we went down and drank tea with my
father.
About a fortnight before Mr. Cranstoun's last departure for Scotland,
Susannah Gunnel one morning going into his room with some vinegar and
water to wash his eyes, he asked her, "If ever her master walked in
his sleep?" She replied, "Not that she ever knew of." "It is very
odd," said he, "he was in my room to-night, dressed with his white
stockings, his coat on, and a cap on his head. I had never," continued
he, "been asleep, and the clock had just struck two. I heard him walk
up my stairs, open the door, and come into the room: upon which I
moved my curtain, and seeing him, I cried, 'Aha! old friend, what did
you come to fright me? I have not been asleep since I came to bed, and
heard you come up.' But he went on, he would not answer me one word.
However, he walked quite across my room, then turned back, and as he
approached my bed-side, kissed his hand, bowed, and went out of the
room. Then I heard him go down stairs. It was, certainly," continued
he, "your master, sleeping or waking; but which, I cannot tell." Susan
greatly surprised at this story, then came running down to me, who was
getting up, and told me what Mr. Cranstoun had said. To this I made no
answer, but went up immediately into his room, and asked him what he
meant by this story Susan had told me. In answer to which, he repeated
the same story, and declared it to be true in every particular. He
then said, "He supposed Mr. Blandy came to see whether he was in bed
or not." When he went down to breakfast, he asked my father, "What
made him fright him so last night?" My father being surprised at this,
and staring on him, asked him, "What he meant?" Mr. Cranstoun then
told the same story over again. To which my father replied, "It must
have been a dream, for I went to bed at eleven o'clock, and did not
rise out of it till seven this morning. Besides, I could not have
appeared in my coat, as you pretend, since the maid had it to put a
button upon it." My father did not seem pleased with the discourse;
which induced me to put an end to it as soon as possible. The
surprising facts here mentioned, of the reality of which I cannot
entertain the least doubt, made a deep and lasting impression upon my
mind. Since, therefore, in my opinion, they were too slightly touched
upon at my trial, notwithstanding the incredulity of the present age
as to facts of this nature, I could by no means think it improper to
give so particular and distinct a relation of them here.
Mr. Cranstoun, soon after this, taking his leave of Henley, set out
for Scotland, as has been already observed. A day or two after his
departure, Mr. Cranstoun wrote me a letter on the road, wherein he
begged me to make acceptable to my father his most grateful
acknowledgements for his late goodness to him. "This," he said, "had
made such an impression upon him, that he never should forget it as
long as he lived; and that he should always entertain the same tender
sentiments for him as for his father, the late Lord Cranstoun,[25]
himself, had he been then alive." In the same letter, he also desired
me to permit my letters to be directed by some body who wrote a more
masculine hand than mine; since otherwise they might be intercepted by
some one or other of Miss Murray's family, as they were jealous of the
affair carried on between us two. He likewise therein insisted upon my
subscribing myself "M.C." instead of "M.B." tho' he did not discover
to me the real view he had therein. Soon after he arrived at his
mother's, he wrote me another letter, wherein he informed me, that he
told his mother[26] we were married, and had been so for some time: and
that she would write to me, as her daughter, by the very next post.
This she did; and her letter came accompanied with one from her son,
wherein he desired me, if I loved him, to answer his mother's by the
return of the post, and sign myself "Mary Cranstoun" at length, as I
knew before God I was, by a solemn contract, entitled to that name.
This, he pretended, would make his mother stir more in the Scotch
affair. On the supposition that I was her daughter, she wrote many
tender letters to me, always directing to me by the name of "Mary
Cranstoun," and sent me some very handsome presents of Scotch linen.
He also obliged his eldest sister, Mrs. Selby,[27] and her husband, to
write to me as their sister. Lady Cranstoun likewise wrote to my
father in a very complaisant style, thanking him for the civilities he
had shewn her son; and hinting, that she hoped it would be in her
power to return them to me, when she should have the pleasure of
seeing me in Scotland, which she begged might be soon. Lord Cranstoun,
his brother, also wrote to my father, and returned him thanks in the
same polite manner. During this whole period, my father's behaviour to
me was very uncertain; but always good after he had received any of
these letters. In a few months, however, after Mr. Cranstoun's
departure, my father's temper was much altered for the worse. He
upbraided me with having rejected much better offers than any that had
come from Scotland; and at last ordered me to write to Mr. Cranstoun
not to return to Henley, till his affair with Miss Murray was quite
decided. I complied with this order, writing to him in the terms
prescribed me. To this I received an answer full of tenderness, grief,
and despair. He said, "He found my father loved him no longer, and was
afraid he would inspire me with the same sentiments. He saw," he said,
"a coolness throughout my whole letter; but conjured me to remember
the sacred promises and engagements that had passed between us." After
this, I received several other letters from him, filled with the same
sort of expostulation; and penned in the same desponding and
disconsolate strain. I likewise received several letters from his
mother, the old Lady Cranstoun, and Mrs. Selby, his sister, wrote in a
most affectionate style.