insufficiency of evidence, had provided another stroke for them. No
sooner were they discharged from the civil power, but the Apparitor of
the Archbishop of Paris seized them, and conveyed them to the
Ecclesiastical Prison; and, in three days more, they were tried and
convicted of a scandalous profanation, by assuming to themselves the
names, characters, and appearances, of an holy apostle and a blessed
angel, with an intent to deceive a pious and well-meaning woman, and to
the scandal of religion. On this they were condemned to be publicly
whipped, burnt on the shoulder by a hot iron, with the letters G.A.L.
and sent to the galleys for fourteen years.
The sentence was executed on them the next day, on a scaffold in the
_Place de Greve_, amidst an innumerable crowd of spectators: many of
whom condemned the superstition of the lady, when perhaps they would
have shewn the same on a like occasion; since, it may be supposed, that
if many of _their_ stories of apparitions, of saints, and angels, had
been judiciously examined, they would have been found, like the above,
to be either a gross fraud, or the dreams of an over-heated,
enthusiastic imagination.
I shall make no reflections on the above fact; but leave it to the
impartial consideration of the reader.
THE
FEMALE SPRITES.
In September 1764, the following extraordinary incident happened in the
family of a clergyman then living in Bartholomew Close.
The gentleman and his wife returning home about eleven o'clock from a
friend's house, where they had been to spend the evening, desired the
maid to get them warm water to mix with some wine. There being no fire
in the parlour, they went into the kitchen; and while the water was
heating, the gentleman ordered the maid to get a pan of coals, and warm
the bed. The servant had not long been gone up stairs, when the
gentleman and his wife heard an uncommon noise over their heads, like
persons walking without shoes: and, presently after, a woman enters the
kitchen, without any other clothes on than her shift and cap. Their
astonishment at such a sight so greatly frightened them, that they had
neither of them power to speak a word: and while they were thus absorbed
in amazement, another woman entered the room in like manner. Just at
this time the maid came down from warming the bed; and, though greatly
surprised at so unexpected an appearance, had the courage to ask them
who they were? and what they wanted? To which they replied, that they
were servants at their next-door neighbour's, and, being awakened out of
their sleep by their master's calling out, Fire and thieves! ran up
stairs, and entering the garret window, came down, to preserve
themselves from danger, and procure assistance. Upon this, inquiry being
made, the gentleman's daughter at the adjoining house was found in
violent fits, which occasioned his calling the maids hastily to her
assistance; and this caused an alarm that had nearly proved fatal to the
clergyman's wife, who was, at that time, far gone with child.
THE
PRUSSIAN DOMINO,
OR
_FATAL EFFECTS OF JEALOUSY_.
An officer of rank in the service of the late King of Prussia, having
lost an amiable wife whom he tenderly loved, became quite inconsolable.
Deeply wounded with his affliction, his mind was so absorbed in
melancholy, that the transient pleasures of life were no longer a
delight to him; he retired from the court and the field, and at once
secluded himself from all society.
Among the numerous friends who lamented his excessive sorrow, his
Monarch was not the least, who endeavoured to soothe his distracted mind
with sympathetic tenderness. Indeed, his Majesty considered him not only
an agreeable companion, but a valuable friend; and was so much
interested in his behalf, that he was determined, if possible, to
divert his immoderate grief. But neither the promises of promotion, or
the threats of disgrace, could draw him from his retirement. At length,
after many zealous efforts had proved ineffectual, a plan was suggested
by the King himself, which promised success. His Majesty resolved to
give a masquerade, to which, by inviting Lindorf (for that was the
officer's name), an opportunity might be again taken to entice him
within that circle of gaiety, of which he was once the admiration. The
invitation being accompanied with an affectionate and earnest
solicitation from the King, Lindorf could not refuse accepting the
offer; and, on the evening appointed, he was once more seen in the rooms
of splendour and festivity. On his entrance he met the King, who, after
greeting him with great kindness, began to rally him upon his late
weakness. Lindorf thanked his Majesty for the honour he did him, and,
after a short reply, they for some time walked up and down the saloon
together; when at length it was agreed to part, that each might amuse
himself according to his own liking, with the different characters
exhibited that evening. But the King's intention was solely to watch the
movements of Lindorf; for with heartfelt regret he beheld, as they
parted, the fixed melancholy that still brooded on his countenance: and,
when he beheld him pass, with downcast eyes, the saloon, where the
dance and music reigned with such irresistible sway, all hope of
reclaiming the unhappy widower disappeared. For some time he was witness
of his melancholy deportment, and was much affected to find that, where
every face beamed a smile, the countenance of Lindorf alone was sad and
dejected. The King, despairing of his project being successful, was
about to quit the rooms, when he beheld Lindorf suddenly stop and speak
to a lady in a black domino. Rejoiced at this circumstance, hope again
revived, and he stayed his departure, to watch the event.
Lindorf, when he quitted the King, continued to walk up and down the
rooms, nothing attracting his attention but the lady in the black
domino, who, wherever he turned, always appeared before him. At first he
imagined the character intended merely to amuse him, and that her
strange deportment was instigated by his friends; but the unusual
solemnity attending her appearance, after he had in vain desired her to
desist, struck him with astonishment. He suddenly stopped, and demanded
who she was? "I dare not tell you," answered the domino, in a deep and
plaintive tone of voice. Lindorf startled--his blood ran cold; it was
exactly the voice of his deceased wife. "Who are you? for heaven's
sake, tell me, or I die!" exclaimed Lindorf. "You will be more wretched
than you are, if I tell you," replied the mysterious unknown, in accents
that doubly excited his curiosity. "Tell me," said he, "I conjure you;
for I cannot be more wretched than I now am. Tell me all, and do not
leave me in this state of inquietude." "Know then," answered the domino,
"I am your wife." Lindorf started--every nerve was wrung with anguish.
"Impossible," said he in a fright, "it cannot be; yet the voice appears
the same." Here his tongue faltering, he ceased to speak. When he had
somewhat recovered his recollection, he ejaculated, "In the name of God,
do tell me who you are? Is it a trick, or do I dream?" "Neither,"
replied the unknown; and continued, in the same tone of voice, to
describe several particulars relative to his family, and in what manner
many things were placed in the drawers belonging to his deceased wife,
which none but himself and the departed knew of. At length he was
convinced the figure before him must be the apparition of his wife; and,
in the voice of anguish and despair, requested she would unmask and let
him see her face. That the figure refused to do, saying, that would be a
sight he could not bear. "I can bear any thing," he replied, "but the
pain your denial creates. I entreat you, let me see your face; do not
refuse me!" Again she denied him; till at last, by repeated entreaties,
and his promises not to be alarmed, she consented to unmask, and desired
him to follow her into an anti-room, solemnly charging him not to give
way to his feelings. They then proceeded to the adjoining room.
The King, who was an eye-witness of the deep conversation they were
engaged in, beheld, with rapture, their entrance into the anti-chamber,
and saw the door closed. "He is certainly restored," said the Monarch to
his confidential attendant; "Lindorf is most assuredly saved; he has
made an appointment with some pretty woman, and has just retired to
enjoy a private conversation. In her endearments he will, I hope, forget
his sorrows. So we may now partake of the festivities of the evening."
Saying which, he immediately joined the motley group with great
cheerfulness.
Lindorf felt his blood chill, as the door of the anti-chamber closed;
but, the warmth of affection returning, he no sooner entered, than he
claimed the dreadful promise. Again, in the most solemn manner, she
advised him not to urge that which might tend to his misery, as she was
certain he had not sufficient fortitude to endure a sight of her. With
horror he heard the remonstrance; and the solemnity of her deportment
only inspired his eager curiosity the more. At length, after many
strict injunctions, she lifted up the mask; when the astonished Lindorf
beheld the most horrid spectacle of a skeleton head. "Oh, God!" he
exclaimed, and, groaning, fell senseless on the floor. In vain the
mysterious domino attempted to recover him. Sorrow had for a long time
preyed upon his existence, and terror had now for ever quieted the
unhappy Lindorf. He breathed no more; he was a lifeless corpse.
Instantly the domino quitted the room, and retired from the masquerade.
The King had just returned to his post of observation, and saw the
domino depart. In vain he waited for Lindorf to follow; an hour expired,
and no Lindorf appeared. This raised the curiosity of the Monarch. The
door was left partly open, and he resolved to enter; when, to his great
surprise and sorrow, he beheld Lindorf stretched on the floor, a corpse.
He instantly alarmed the company; but the mystery of his death in vain
they attempted to develope. No marks of violence appeared on his body,
which was the more astonishing; and, to add to the mystery, the masqued
lady was not to be found in any of the rooms. Messengers were then
dispatched, and advertisements distributed, all over the city of Berlin,
offering large rewards for her apprehension; but no further information
could be gained, than that deposed by two chairmen, who affirmed, they
brought the domino to the rooms, which from their account only added to
the mystery.
Their declaration was as follows--"Having received a letter, enjoining
secrecy, and desiring them to attend in the dusk of the evening, at a
certain church porch, to carry a lady to the masquerade; they, thinking
it was some person who intended to play the character of a hobgoblin, or
sprite, did not hesitate, and made no farther inquiry, but proceeded, at
the hour appointed, to the place mentioned; where they found a person
waiting in a black domino, just as the advertisement described. On their
arrival, without speaking a word, the domino placed the money for hire
in their hands, and instantly entered the chair, which they immediately
conveyed to the masquerade. On their arrival, without uttering a word,
she darted from them into the crowd, and they saw no more of her until
twelve o'clock, when, on passing the door, they discovered the domino
again seated in the chair. They were much surprised at such strange
conduct; but, without reflecting on the event, they conveyed her back
again, as was agreed, to the same church porch, when they received a
further gratuity, and departed." Such was the deposition of the two
chairmen, at once mysterious and incomprehensible. This intelligence
still more astonished the King, who in vain used every method to make
further discovery in this extraordinary and unhappy affair.
Several years elapsed, without any thing occurring that could lead to a
developement of this dreadful catastrophe. All search after the lady was
now given up, and nothing but the remembrance of the unhappy affair
remained. At length the hour arrived, when this dreadful mystery was
explained, which displayed one of the most diabolical and desperate
transactions ever known. The particulars are as follow.
A lady, then at the point of death, requested to see some confidential
friend of the King's; which request was immediately complied with: to
whom she made the following confession. In accents scarcely audible, she
told them, she was the person who appeared in the black domino, in so
mysterious a manner, to Lindorf, and which unhappily caused his death.
That revenge for neglected love instigated her to play the part she did;
but that she had no idea the consequence would have been so fatal: her
intention being merely to assume the appearance of his deceased wife, in
order that she might upbraid him, and gratify her revenge for having
broke his vow in marrying her sister instead of herself; and also that
she might effectually persuade him to desist from his melancholy
intentions of remaining a widower, and prevail on him to marry her--for
although he refused her request personally, yet she imagined the scheme
must be successful, when played off under the appearance of a spirit of
his deceased wife; and, to deceive his imagination, she had endeavoured
to personify her; for which purpose she had procured the head of a
skeleton, and assumed that character which had proved the death of the
man she so ardently loved, and the source of endless misery to herself.
She then related the conversation that had passed between them on that
fatal evening, and fully described the whole particulars of that
mysterious affair. She likewise acknowledged she endeavoured to imitate
the voice of his deceased wife; and declared her intention for having
the chair brought to the church porch was to render the proceeding the
more mysterious and incomprehensible in case of a scrutiny. On
concluding this melancholy tale, she fetched a deep sigh, and instantly
expired.
THE
DEAD MAN
AND
_ANATOMICAL PROFESSOR_.
Many, who were personally acquainted with Mr. Junker, have frequently
heard him relate the following anecdote.
Being Professor of Anatomy, he once procured, for dissection, the bodies
of two criminals who had been hanged. The key of the dissecting room not
being immediately at hand, when they were carried home to him, he
ordered them to be laid down in a closet which opened into his own
apartment. The evening came; and Junker, according to custom, proceeded
to resume his literary labour before he retired to rest. It was now near
midnight, and all his family were fast asleep, when he heard a rumbling
noise in his closet. Thinking that, by some mistake, the cat had been
shut up with the dead bodies, he arose, and, taking the candle, went to
see what had happened. But what must have been his astonishment, or
rather his panic, on perceiving that the sack which contained the two
bodies was rent through the middle. He approached, and found that one
of them was gone.
The doors and windows were well secured, and he thought it impossible
the bodies could have been stolen. He tremblingly looked round the
closet, and observed the dead man seated in a corner.
Junker stood for a moment motionless: the dead man seemed to look
towards him; he moved both to the right and left, but the dead man still
kept his eyes upon him.
The Professor then retired, step by step, with his eyes still fixed upon
the object of his alarm, and holding the candle in his hand, until he
reached the door. The dead man instantly started up, and followed him. A
figure of so hideous an appearance, naked, and in motion--the lateness
of the hour--the deep silence which prevailed--every thing concurred to
overwhelm him with confusion. He let fall the only candle which he had
burning, and all was darkness. He made his escape to his bed-chamber,
and threw himself on the bed: thither, however, he was pursued; and he
soon felt the dead man embracing his legs, and loudly sobbing. Repeated
cries of "Leave me! leave me!" released Junker from the grasp of the
dead man; who now exclaimed, "Ah! good executioner! good executioner!
have mercy upon me."
Junker soon perceived the cause of what had happened, and resumed his
fortitude. He informed the re-animated sufferer who he really was, and
made a motion, in order to call up some of the family. "You wish then to
destroy me," exclaimed the criminal. "If you call any one, my adventure
will become public, and I shall be taken and executed a second time. In
the name of humanity, I implore you to save my life."
The physician struck a light, decorated his guest with an old
night-gown, and, having made him take off a cordial, requested to know
what had brought him to the gibbet. It would have been a truly singular
exhibition, observed Junker, to have seen me, at that late hour, engaged
in a _tete-a-tete_ with a dead man decked out in a night-gown.
The poor wretch informed him, that he had enlisted as a soldier, but
that, having no great attachment to the profession, he had determined to
desert; that he had unfortunately entrusted his secret to a kind of
crimp, a fellow of no principle, who recommended him to a woman, in
whose house he was to remain concealed: that this woman had discovered
his retreat to the officers of police, &c.
Junker was extremely perplexed how to save the poor man. It was
impossible to retain him in his own house, and keep the affair a secret;
and to turn him out of doors, was to expose him to certain destruction.
He therefore resolved to conduct him out of the city, in order that he
might get into a foreign jurisdiction; but it was necessary to pass the
gates of the city, which were strictly guarded. To accomplish this
point, he dressed the man in some of his old clothes, covered him with a
cloak, and, at an early hour, set out for the country, with his
_protege_ behind him. On arriving at the city gate, where he was well
known, he said in a hurried tone, that he had been sent for to visit a
sick person who was dying in the suburbs. He was permitted to pass.
Having both got into the open fields, the deserter threw himself at the
feet of his deliverer, to whom he vowed eternal gratitude; and, after
receiving some pecuniary assistance, departed, offering up prayers for
his happiness.
Twelve years after, Junker, having occasion to go to Amsterdam, was
accosted on the Exchange by a man well-dressed and of the best
appearance, who, he had been informed, was one of the most respectable
merchants in that city. The merchant, in a polite manner, inquired
whether he was not Professor Junker of Halle; and, on being answered in
the affirmative, he requested, in an earnest manner, his company to
dinner. The Professor consented. Having reached the merchant's house,
he was shewn into an elegant apartment, where he found a beautiful wife,
and two fine healthy children: but he could scarcely suppress his
astonishment at meeting with so cordial a reception from a family with
whom, he thought he was entirely unacquainted.
After dinner, the merchant, taking him into his counting-room, said,
"You do not recollect me?"--"Not at all."--"But I well recollect you;
and never shall your features be effaced from my remembrance. You are my
benefactor. I am the person who came to life in your closet, and to whom
you paid so much attention. On parting from you, I took the road to
Holland. I wrote a good hand, was tolerably expert at accounts; my
figure was somewhat interesting; and I soon obtained employment as a
merchant's clerk. My good conduct, and my zeal for the interests of my
patron, procured me his confidence, and his daughter's love. On his
retiring from business, I succeeded him, and became his son-in-law. But
for you, however, I should not have lived to experience all these
enjoyments. Henceforth, look upon my house, my fortune, and myself, as
at your disposal."
Those who possess the smallest portion of sensibility can easily
represent to themselves the feelings of Junker.
THE
DRUNKEN BUCKS,
AND
_CHIMNEY-SWEEP_.
On March the 19th, 1765, four bucks assembled at an inn in Grantham, to
drink a glass, and play a game of cards. The glass circulating very
briskly, before midnight they became so intoxicated, that not one of
them was able to determine how the game stood; and several disputes,
interspersed with a considerable number of oaths, ensued, till they
agreed to let the cards lie, and endeavour to drink themselves sober.
Shortly after they resumed the game; and each man imagining himself
capable of directing the rest, they soon came again to very high words;
when the waiter, fearful that some bad consequences might ensue, let
them know it was near three o'clock, and, if any gentleman pleased, he
would wait on him home. Instead of complying with his request, the
geniuses looked upon it as an indignity offered them, and declared, with
the most horrid imprecations, that not one of them would depart till
day-light. But, in the height of their anger, an uncommon noise in the
chimney engaged their attention; when, on looking towards the
fire-place, a black spectre made its appearance, and crying out in a
hollow menacing tone--"_My father has sent me for you, infamous
reprobates!_" They all, in the greatest fright, flew out of the room,
without staying to take their hats, in broken accents confessing their
sins, and begging for mercy.
It appears, that the master of the inn, finding he could not get rid of
his troublesome guests, and having a chimney-sweeper in his house
sweeping other chimneys, he gave the boy directions to descend into the
room as above related, whilst he stood at a distance, and enjoyed the
droll scene of the bucks' flight.
THE
CRIPPLEGATE GHOST.
The following story, well authenticated in the neighbourhood of
Cripplegate, will convince the reader, that vicious intentions are
sometimes productive of much good to the parties they intended to
injure.
A gentlewoman in that parish, having lain for some days in a trance, was
at length laid out and buried for dead, with a gold ring on her finger.
The sexton knowing thereof, he and his wife, with a lanthorn and candle,
went privately the next night, and dug up the coffin, opened it, untied
the winding sheet, and was going to cut off her finger for the sake of
the valuable ring buried with her, they not being otherwise able to
remove it; when, suddenly, the lady raised herself up (being just then
supposed miraculously to come out of her trance). The sexton and his
wife ran away in a horrible fright, leaving their lanthorn behind them;
which the lady took up, and made haste home to her house. When knocking
hard at the door, the maid-servant asked who was there? "'Tis I, your
mistress," replied the lady; "and do, for God's sake, let me in
immediately, as I am very cold." The maid, being much surprised and
terrified at this reply, neglected to open the door, ran away to her
master, and acquainted him with the circumstance; who would scarcely
believe her tale, till he went himself to the door, and heard his wife
relate the dreadful particulars. He immediately let her in, put her into
a warm bed; and, by being well looked after, she soon perfectly
recovered, and lived to have three children afterwards.
This extraordinary resuscitation is conjectured, by the faculty, to have
been occasioned by the sudden circulation of the blood on the villain's
attempting to cut off the finger.
A monument, with a curious inscription of this affair, is still to be
seen in Cripplegate church.
THE
VENTRILOQUIST.
The following anecdotes are related by the Abbe de la Chapelle, of the
French Academy.
This gentleman, having heard many surprising circumstances related
concerning one Monsieur St. Gille, a grocer, at St. Germain-en-Laye,
near Paris, whose astonishing powers as a ventriloquist had given
occasion to many singular and diverting scenes, formed the resolution to
see him. Struck by the many marvellous anecdotes related concerning him,
the Abbe judged it necessary first to ascertain the truth by the
testimony of his own senses, and then to inquire into the cause and
manner in which the phenomena were produced.