and wonderful apparition of the devil was nothing more than an ass;
which raised the laugh sufficiently against the master.
However, poor Jervais lost his place for gossiping; and his master
insists upon it to this day, that it was the devil, and that he knew him
by his broad eyes and cloven feet. Such is the power of imagination over
the weak and credulous!
THE
CASTLE APPARITION.
_Translated by the Rev. Weeden Butler, Jun. from a Monkish Manuscript._
In the vicinity of Chamberry, a town in Savoy, stood the ancient mansion
of the Albertini: round it were several little buildings, in which were
deposited the cattle, poultry, &c. &c. belonging to the family. A young
gentleman, by name Barbarosse, came to the chateau on a visit for a few
days; he was cordially received, being of a pleasing lively disposition;
and an elegant room in the east wing was prepared for his accommodation.
The family, and their young guests, spent the day very agreeably; and,
after supper, they sat round a comfortable large fire, and diverted
themselves with songs and stories: the former, as is generally the case,
were some of the sprightly, some of the tender and pathetic kind; but
the latter were, for the most part, of the melancholy cast, particularly
those which related to preternatural occurrences. The social party
separated at half past twelve o'clock; and Barbarosse retired to his
chamber. It was a handsome room on the first floor, having three doors;
two of these belonged to two little closets, one on the right that
overlooked a farm-yard, and another more to the left that presented a
view through the window of a large romantic wood; the third door was
that by which he entered his room, after traversing a long passage. Our
youth had visited this room in the morning, and looked out of the window
to enjoy the prospect for a great while.
As he entered this apartment, with his mind full of the diversion just
left, he set his candle down upon the table, and looked about him. There
was an excellent fire in the chimney, with an iron grating before it, to
prevent accidents; a large elbow-chair stood near it; and, not being at
all sleepy, he sat down reflecting on the amusements of the day, and
endeavoured to remember the tales he had heard. In some he thought he
perceived strong traits of truth; and in others he discovered palpable
fiction and absurdity. Whilst he was deliberating on the various
incidents, the heavy watch-bell tolled two; but Barbarosse did not
attend to it, being deeply engaged in his contemplations. He was
suddenly awakened from his reveries by an uncommon rustling sound
issuing from the closet on the right hand; and, listening attentively,
he heard distinct taps upon the floor at short intervals.
Alarmed at the circumstance, he walked slowly to his bed-side, and drew
forth his pocket-pistols from under the pillow; these he carefully
placed upon the table, and resumed the elbow-chair. All was again still
as death; and nought but the winds, which whistled round the watch-tower
and the adjacent buildings, could be heard.
Barbarosse looked towards the door of the closet, which he then, and not
till then, perceived was not shut, but found that it hung upon the jar;
immediately a furious blast forced it wide open; the taper burnt blue,
and the fire seemed almost extinct.
Barbarosse arose, put forth a silent hasty ejaculation of prayer, and
sat down again; again he heard the noise! He started up, seized the
pistols, and stood motionless; whilst large cold drops of dew hung upon
his face. Still his heart continued firm, and he grew more composed,
when the rustling taps were renewed! Barbarosse desperately invoked the
protection of Heaven, cocked one of the pistols, and was about to rush
into the portentous apartment, when the noise increased and drew nearer:
a loud peal of thunder, that seemed to rend the firmament, shook
violently the solid battlements of the watch-tower; the deep-toned bell
tolled three, and its hollow sound long vibrated on the ear of
Barbarosse with fainter and fainter murmurs; when a tremendous cry
thrilled him with terror and dismay; and, lo! the long-dreaded spectre
stalked into the middle of the room: and Barbarosse, overcome with
surprise and astonishment at the _unexpected_ apparition, sunk down
_convulsed_[B] in his chair.
The phantom was armed _de cap en pied_, and clad in a black garment. On
his crest a black plume waved majestically; and, instead of a glove or
any other sort of lady's favour, he wore a blood-red token. He bore no
weapon of offence in his hand; but a gloomy shield, made of the feathers
of some kind of bird, was cast over each shoulder. He was booted and
spurred; and, looking upon Barbarosse with ardent eyes, raised his
feathery arms, and struck them vehemently against his sides, making at
the same time the most vociferous noise!
Then it was, that Barbarosse found he had not shut down the window in
the morning; from which neglect it happened, that a _black game-cock_
had flown into the closet, and created all this inexpressible confusion.
FOOTNOTES:
[B] Lest any of the faculty should wish, ineffectually, to be informed
what species of convulsions affected Barbarosse, I think it proper
(observes the translator) to satisfy their truly laudable curiosity by
anticipation, and to assure them, _fois d'homme d'honneur_, that this
disorder was a _convulsion of laughter_.
THE TWINS,
OR
_GHOST OF THE FIELD_.
Ye who delight in old traditions,
And love to talk of apparitions,
Whose chairs around are closely join'd,
While no one dares to look behind,
Thinking there's some hobgoblin near,
Ready to whisper in his ear;
Oh! listen, while I lay before ye
My well-authenticated story.
Two twins, of understanding good,
Together liv'd, as brothers should:
This was named Thomas, that was John;
But all things else they had as one.
At length, by industry in trade,
They had a pretty fortune made,
And had, like others in the city,
A country cottage very pretty;
Where they amused their leisure hours,
In innocence, with plants and flowers,
Till fate had cut Tom's thread across,
And left poor John to wail his loss.
John left alone, when now some weeks
Had wip'd the tears from off his cheeks,
To muse within himself began
On what should be his future plan:
"Ye woods, ye fields, my sweet domain,
When shall I see your face again?
When shall I pass the vacant hours,
Rejoicing in my woodbine bowers;
To smoke my pipe, and sing my song;
Regardless how they pass along?
When take my fill of pastime there,
In sweet forgetfulness of care?"
He said; and, on his purpose bent,
Soon to his country cottage went,
Swill'd home-brew'd ale and gooseberry fool:
John never ate or drank by rule.
His arms were folded now to rest,
The night-mare sat upon his breast;
From right to left, and left to right,
He turn'd and toss'd, throughout the night:
A thousand fears disturb'd his head,
And phantoms danced around his bed;
His lab'ring stomach, though he slept,
The fancy wide awake had kept:
His brother's ghost approach'd his side,
And thus in feeble accents cried--
"Be not alarm'd, my brother dear,
To see your buried partner here;
I come to tell you where to find
A treasure, which I left behind:
I had not time to let you know it,
But follow me, and now I'll shew it."
John trembled at the awful sight,
But hopes of gain suppress'd his fright;
Oft will the parching thirst of gold,
Make even errant cowards bold.
John, rising up without delay,
Went where the spectre led the way;
Which, after many turnings past,
Stopp'd in an open field at last,
Where late the hind had sow'd his grain,
And made the whole a level plain.
The spectre pointed to the spot,
Where he had hid the golden pot:
"Deep in the earth," says he, "'tis laid."
But John, alas! had got no spade;
And, as the night was pretty dark,
He felt around him for a mark,
That he might know again the place,
Soon as Aurora shew'd her face.
In vain he stoop'd and felt around,
No stick or stone was to be found;
But nature now, before oppress'd,
By change of posture sore distress'd,
Gave an alarming crack; a hint
Of what, as sure as stick or flint,
To-morrow morn the place would tell,
If he had either sight or smell.
This done, he rose to go to bed;
He wak'd, how chang'd! the night-mare fled;
The ghost was vanish'd from his sight,
And John himself in piteous plight.
THE
DOUBLE MISTAKE,
OR
_COLLEGE GHOST_.
Mr. Samuel Foote, the celebrated comedian, played the following trick
upon Doctor Gower, who was then provost of his college, a man of
considerable learning, but rather of a grave pedantic turn of mind.
The church belonging to the college fronted the side of a lane, where
cattle were sometimes turned out to graze during the night; and from the
steeple hung the bell-rope, very low in the middle of the outside porch.
Foote saw in this an object likely to produce some fun, and immediately
set about to accomplish his purpose. He accordingly, one night, slily
tied a wisp of hay to the rope, as a bait for the cows in their
peregrination to the grazing ground. The scheme succeeded to his wish.
One of the cows soon after, smelling the hay as she passed by the
church-door, instantly seized on it, and, by tugging at the rope, made
the bell ring, to the astonishment of the sexton and the whole parish.
This happened several nights successively; and the incident gave rise to
various reports--such as, not only that the church was haunted by evil
spirits, but that several spectres were seen walking about the
church-yard, in all those hideous and frightful shapes, which fear,
ignorance, and fancy, usually suggest on such occasions.
An event of this kind, however, was to be explored, for the honour of
philosophy, as well as for the quiet of the parish. Accordingly, the
Doctor and the sexton agreed to sit up one night, and, on the first
alarm, to run out, and drag the culprit to condign punishment. Their
plan being arranged, they waited with the utmost impatience for the
appointed signal: at last, the bell began to sound its usual alarm, and
they both sallied out in the dark, determined on making a discovery.
The sexton was the first in the attack: he seized the cow by the tail,
and cried out it was a gentleman commoner, as he had him by the tail of
his gown; while the Doctor, who had caught the cow by the horns at the
same time, immediately replied, "No, no, you blockhead, 'tis the
postman; and here I have hold of the rascal by his blowing-horn." Lights
however were immediately brought, when the character of the real
offender was discovered, and the laugh of the whole town was turned upon
the Doctor.
THE
HAUNTED CASTLE.
The castle of Ardivillers, near Breteuil, was reported to be haunted by
evil spirits. Dreadful noises were heard; and flames were seen, by
night, to issue from various apertures. The farmer who was entrusted
with the care of the house, in the absence of its owner, the President
d'Ardivillers, could alone live there. The spirit seemed to respect him;
but any person who ventured to take up a night's lodging in the castle
was sure to bear the marks of his audacity.
Superstition is catching. The peasants in the neighbourhood at length
began to see strange sights. Sometimes a dozen of ghosts would appear in
the air above the castle dancing. At other times, a number of presidents
and counsellors, in red robes, appeared in the adjacent meadow. There
they sat in judgment on a gentleman of the country, who had been
beheaded for some crime an hundred years before. In short, many had
seen, and all had heard, the wonders of the castle of Ardivillers.
This affair had continued four or five years, to the great loss of the
President, who had been obliged to let the estate to the farmer at a
very low rent. At length, suspecting some artifice, he resolved to visit
and inspect the castle himself.
Taking with him two gentlemen, his friends, they determined to pass the
night in the same apartment; and if any noise or apparition disturbed
them, to discharge their pistols at either ghost or sound. As spirits
know all things, they were probably aware of these preparations, and not
one appeared. But, in the chamber just above, a dreadful rattling of
chains was heard; and the wife and children of the farmer ran to assist
their lord. They threw themselves on their knees, begging that he would
not visit that terrible room. "My lord," said they, "what can human
force effect against people of t'other world? Monsieur de Ficancout
attempted the same enterprise years ago, and he returned with a
dislocated arm. M. D'Urselles tried too; he was overwhelmed with bundles
of hay, and was ill for a long time after." In short, so many attempts
were mentioned, that the President's friends advised _him_ to abandon
the design.
But still _they_ determined to encounter the danger. Proceeding up
stairs to an extensive room, each having a candle in one hand, and a
pistol in the other, they found it full of thick smoke, which increased
more and more from some flames that were visible. Soon after, the ghost
or spirit faintly appeared in the middle: he seemed quite black, and was
amusing himself with cutting capers; but another eruption of flame and
smoke hid him from their view. He had horns and a long tail; and was, in
truth, a dreadful object.
One of the gentlemen found his courage rather fail. "This is certainly
supernatural," said he; "let us retire." The other, endued with more
boldness, asserted that the smoke was that of gunpowder, which is no
supernatural composition; "and if this same spirit," added he, "knew his
own nature and trade, he should have extinguished our candles."
With these words, he jumped amidst the smoke and flames, and pursued the
spectre. He soon discharged the pistol at his back, and hit him exactly
in the middle; but was himself seized with fear, when the spirit, far
from falling, turned round and rushed upon him. Soon recovering himself,
he resolved to grasp the ghost, to discover if it were indeed aerial
and impassable. Mr. Spectre, disordered by this new manoeuvre, rushed to
the tower, and descended a small staircase.
The gentleman ran after, and, never losing sight of him, passed several
courts and gardens, still turning as the spirit winded, till at length
they entered into an open barn. Here the pursuer, certain, as he
thought, of his prey, shut the door, but when he turned round, what was
his amazement, to see the spirit totally disappear.
In great confusion, he called to the servants for more lights. On
examining the spot of the spirit's disappearance, he found a trap-door;
upon raising which, several mattresses appeared, to break the fall of
any headlong adventurer. Therefore, descending, he found the spirit to
be no other than the _farmer_ himself. His dress, of a complete bull's
hide, had secured him from the pistol-shot; and the horns and tail were
not diabolic, but mere natural appendages of the original. The rogue
confessed his tricks, and was pardoned, on paying the arrears due for
five years, at the old rent of the land.
THE
HAMMERSMITH GHOST.
In the year 1804, the inhabitants of Hammersmith were much alarmed by a
nocturnal appearance; which, for a considerable time, eluded detection
or discovery. In the course of this unfortunate affair, two innocent
persons met with an untimely death; and as this transaction engaged the
attention of the public in a high degree, we shall fully relate the
particulars of it.
An unknown person made it his diversion to alarm the inhabitants, in
January 1804, by assuming the figure of a spectre. This sham ghost has
certainly much to answer for. One poor woman, who was far advanced in
her pregnancy of a second child, was so much shocked, that she took to
her bed, and survived only two days. She had been crossing near the
church-yard about ten o'clock at night, when she beheld something, as
she described, rise from the tomb-stones. The figure was very tall, and
very white! She attempted to run, but the supposed ghost soon overtook
her, and, pressing her in his arms, she fainted; in which situation she
remained some hours, till discovered by the neighbours, who kindly led
her home, when she took to her bed, from which, alas! she never rose. A
waggoner belonging to Mr. Russell was also so alarmed, while driving a
team of eight horses, which had sixteen passengers at the time, that he
took to his heels, and left the waggon, horses, and passengers, in the
greatest danger. Neither man, woman, or child, would pass that way for
some time; and the report was, that it was the apparition of a man who
had cut his throat in that neighbourhood above a year before. Several
lay in wait different nights for the ghost; but there were so many
bye-lanes, and paths leading to Hammersmith, that he was always sure of
being in that which was unguarded, and every night played off his
tricks, to the terror of the passengers.
One Francis Smith, doubtless incensed at the unknown person who was in
the habit of assuming the supernatural character, and thus frightening
the superstitious inhabitants of the village, rashly determined on
watching for, and shooting the ghost; when, unfortunately, in Black-Lion
Lane, he shot a poor innocent man, Thomas Millwood, a bricklayer, who
was in a white dress, the usual habiliment of his occupation. This rash
act, having been judged wilful murder by the coroner's inquest, Smith
was accordingly committed to gaol, and took his trial at the ensuing
sessions at the Old Bailey, January 13th, 1804. The jury at first found
him guilty of manslaughter; but the crime being deemed murder in the eye
of the law, the judge could only receive a verdict of Guilty, or
acquittal. He was then found guilty, and received sentence of death, but
was afterwards pardoned on condition of being imprisoned one year.
THE
FRIGHTENED CARRIER.
In October 1813, a little before midnight, as one of the carriers
between Nottingham and Loughborough, was passing near the village of
Rempstone, he was extremely surprised at meeting what he thought was a
funeral procession, marching in a most solemn and steady order in the
centre of the road. The carrier, with a becoming propriety and decorum,
drew his cart to the side of the road, that the mournful cavalcade might
pass without any interruption. Very active inquiry was immediately
afterwards made in the neighbourhood, but not the least knowledge could
be obtained as to where this solemn group had come from, or whither it
was going; it was therefore concluded, that some ghostly apparition or
other had thought proper to be then exercising its nocturnal avocation.
Some days afterwards it was found out, that a person, who lived in the
neighbouring village, had been endeavouring to construct a carriage upon
such a principle as to go without horses; and, wishing to make his
experiment as secret as possible, had chosen that dead hour of the
night, for trying his apparatus on the turnpike road; but unluckily
meeting with the carrier, he became alarmed for fear of an exposure, and
therefore threw a large sheet over the machinery, and passed the cart as
silently as possible, to avoid being detected.
THE
CLUB-ROOM GHOST.
At a town in the west of England, was held a club of twenty-four
persons, which assembled once a week, to drink punch, smoke tobacco, and
talk politics. Like Rubens's Academy at Antwerp, each member had his
peculiar chair, and the president's was more exalted than the rest. One
of the members had been in a dying state for some time; of course, his
chair, while he was absent, remained vacant.
The club being met on their usual night, inquiries were naturally made
after their associate. As he lived in the adjoining house, a particular
friend went himself to inquire for him, and returned with the dismal
tidings, that he could not possibly survive the night. This threw a
gloom on the company, and all efforts to turn the conversation from the
sad subject before them were ineffectual.
About midnight (the time, by long prescription, appropriated for the
walking of spectres), the door opened; and the form, in white, of the
dying, or rather of the dead man, walked into the room, and took his
seat in the accustomed chair: there he remained in silence, and in
silence was he gazed at. The apparition continued a sufficient time in
the chair to convince all present of the reality of the vision: at
length, he arose, and stalked towards the door, which he opened as if
living--went out, and then shut the door after him. After a long pause,
some one, at last, had the resolution to say, "If only one of us had
seen this, he would not have been believed; but it is impossible that so
many persons can be deceived."
The company, by degrees, recovered their speech; and the whole
conversation, as may be imagined, was upon the dreadful object which
had engaged their attention. They broke up, and went home. In the
morning, inquiry was made after their sick friend; it was answered by an
account of his death, which happened nearly at the time of his appearing
in the club. There could be little doubt before, but now nothing could
be more certain, than the reality of the apparition, which had been seen
by so many persons together.
It is needless to say, that such a story spread over the country, and
found credit, even from infidels; for, in this case, all reasoning
became superfluous, when opposed to a plain fact, attested by
three-and-twenty witnesses. To assert the doctrine of the fixed laws of
nature, was ridiculous, when there were so many people of credit to
prove that they might be unfixed. Years rolled on; the story ceased to
engage attention, and it was forgotten, unless when occasionally
produced to silence an unbeliever.
One of the club was an apothecary. In the course of his practice, he was
called to an old woman, whose profession was attending on sick persons.
She told him, that she could leave the world with a quiet conscience,
but for one thing which lay on her mind. "Do not you remember Mr. ----,
whose ghost has been so much talked of? I was his nurse. The night he
died, I left the room for something that was wanted. I am sure I had
not been absent long; but, at my return, I found the bed without my
patient. He was delirious; and I feared that he had thrown himself out
of the window. I was so frightened that I had no power to stir; but,
after some time, to my great astonishment, he entered the room
shivering, and his teeth chattering--laid down on the bed, and died.
Considering myself as the cause of his death, I kept this a secret, for
fear of what might be done to me. Though I could contradict all the
story of the ghost, I dared not do it. I knew, by what had happened,
that it was he himself who had been in the club-room (perhaps
recollecting, in his delirium, that it was the night of meeting): but I
hope God and the poor gentleman's friends will forgive me, and then I
shall die contented."
THE
LUNATIC APPARITION.