The Book of Dreams and Ghosts by Andrew Lang (the lemonade war series TXT) 📕

“These two were both with their mother, Lady Beresford, on the day of her decease, and they, without assistance or witness, took off from their parent’s wrist the black bandage which she had always worn on all occasions and times, even at Court, as some very old persons who lived well into the eighteenth century testified, having received their information from eyewitnesses of the fact.  There was an oil painting of this lady in Tyrone House, Dublin, representing her with a black ribbon bound round her wrist.  This portrait disappeared in an unaccountable manner.  It used to hang in one of the drawing-rooms in that mansion, with other family pictures.  When Henry, Marquis of Waterford, sold the old town residence of the family and its grounds to the Government as the site of the Education Board, he directed Mr. Watkins, a dealer in pictures, and a man of considerable knowledge in works of art and vertu, to collect the pictures, etc., etc., which were best adapted for removal to Curraghmore.  Mr. Watkins especially picked out this portrait, not only as a good work of art, but as one which, from its associations, deserved particular care and notice.  When, however, the lot arrived at Curraghmore and was unpacked, no such picture was found; and though Mr. Watkins took great pains and exerted himself to the utmost to trace what had become of it, to this day (nearly forty years), not a hint of its existence has been received or heard of.

“John le Poer, Lord Decies, was the eldest son of Richard, Earl of Tyrone, and of Lady Dorothy Annesley, daughter of Arthur, Earl of Anglesey.  He was born 1665, succeeded his father 1690, and died 14th October, 1693.  He became Lord Tyrone at his father’s death, and is the ‘ghost’ of the story.

“Nicola Sophie Hamilton was the second and youngest daughter and co-heiress of Hugh, Lord Glenawley, who was also Baron Lunge in Sweden.  Being a zealous Royalist, he had, together with his father, migrated to that country in 1643, and returned from it at the Restoration.  He was of a good old family, and held considerable landed property in the county Tyrone, near Ballygawley.  He died there in 1679.  His eldest daughter and co-heiress, Arabella Susanna, married, in 1683, Sir John Macgill, of Gill Hall, in the county Down.

“Nicola S. (the second daughter) was born in 1666, and married Sir Tristram Beresford in 1687.  Between that and 1693 two daughters were born, but no son to inherit the ample landed estates of his father, who most anxiously wished and hoped for an heir.  It was under these circumstances, and at this period, that the manuscripts state that Lord Tyrone made his appearance after death; and all the versions of the story, without variation, attribute the same cause and reason, viz., a solemn promise mutually interchanged in early life between John le Poer, then Lord Decies, afterwards Lord Tyrone, and Nicola S. Hamilton, that whichever of the two died the first, should, if permitted, appear to the survivor for the object of declaring the approval or rejection by the Deity of the revealed religion as generally acknowledged: of which the departed one must be fully cognisant, but of which they both had in their youth entertained unfortunate doubts.

“In the month of October, 1693, Sir Tristram and Lady Beresford went on a visit to her sister, Lady Macgill, at Gill Hall, now the seat of Lord Clanwilliam, whose grandmother was eventually the heiress of Sir J. Macgill’s property.  One morning Sir Tristram rose early, leaving Lady Beresford asleep, and went out for a walk before breakfast.  When his wife joined the table very late, her appearance and the embarrassment of her manner attracted general attention, especially that of her husband.  He made anxious inquiries as to her health, and asked her apart what had occurred to her wrist, which was tied up with black ribbon tightly bound round it.  She earnestly entreated him not to inquire more then, or thereafter, as to the cause of her wearing or continuing afterwards to wear that ribbon; ‘for,’ she added, ‘you will never see me without it’.  He replied, ‘Since you urge it so vehemently, I promise you not to inquire more about it’.

“After completing her hurried breakfast she made anxious inquiries as to whether the post had yet arrived.  It had not yet come in; and Sir Tristram asked: ‘Why are you so particularly eager about letters to-day?’  ‘Because I expect to hear of Lord Tyrone’s death, which took place on Tuesday.’  ‘Well,’ remarked Sir Tristram, ‘I never should have put you down for a superstitious person; but I suppose that some idle dream has disturbed you.’  Shortly after, the servant brought in the letters; one was sealed with black wax.  ‘It is as I expected,’ she cries; ‘he is dead.’  The letter was from Lord Tyrone’s steward to inform them that his master had died in Dublin, on Tuesday, 14th October, at 4 p.m.  Sir Tristram endeavoured to console her, and begged her to restrain her grief, when she assured him that she felt relieved and easier now that she knew the actual fact.  She added, ‘I can now give you a most satisfactory piece of intelligence, viz., that I am with child, and that it will be a boy’.  A son was born in the following July.  Sir Tristram survived its birth little more than six years.  After his death Lady Beresford continued to reside with her young family at his place in the county of Derry, and seldom went from home.  She hardly mingled with any neighbours or friends, excepting with Mr. and Mrs. Jackson, of Coleraine.  He was the principal personage in that town, and was, by his mother, a near relative of Sir Tristram.  His wife was the daughter of Robert Gorges, LL.D. (a gentleman of good old English family, and possessed of a considerable estate in the county Meath), by Jane Loftus, daughter of Sir Adam Loftus, of Rathfarnham, and sister of Lord Lisburn.  They had an only son, Richard Gorges, who was in the army, and became a general officer very early in life.  With the Jacksons Lady Beresford maintained a constant communication and lived on the most intimate terms, while she seemed determined to eschew all other society and to remain in her chosen retirement.

“At the conclusion of three years thus passed, one luckless day “Young Gorges” most vehemently professed his passion for her, and solicited her hand, urging his suit in a most passionate appeal, which was evidently not displeasing to the fair widow, and which, unfortunately for her, was successful.  They were married in 1704.  One son and two daughters were born to them, when his abandoned and dissolute conduct forced her to seek and to obtain a separation.  After this had continued for four years, General Gorges pretended extreme penitence for his past misdeeds, and with the most solemn promises of amendment induced his wife to live with him again, and she became the mother of a second son.  The day month after her confinement happened to be her birthday, and having recovered and feeling herself equal to some exertion, she sent for her son, Sir Marcus Beresford, then twenty years old, and her married daughter, Lady Riverston.  She also invited Dr. King, the Archbishop of Dublin (who was an intimate friend), and an old clergyman who had christened her, and who had always kept up a most kindly intercourse with her during her whole life, to make up a small party to celebrate the day.

“In the early part of it Lady Beresford was engaged in a kindly conversation with her old friend the clergyman, and in the course of it said: ‘You know that I am forty-eight this day’.  ‘No, indeed,’ he replied; ‘you are only forty-seven, for your mother had a dispute with me once on the very subject of your age, and I in consequence sent and consulted the registry, and can most confidently assert that you are only forty-seven this day.’  ‘You have signed my death-warrant, then,’ she cried; ‘leave me, I pray, for I have not much longer to live, but have many things of grave importance to settle before I die.  Send my son and my daughter to me immediately.’  The clergyman did as he was bidden.  He directed Sir Marcus and his sister to go instantly to their mother; and he sent to the archbishop and a few other friends to put them off from joining the birthday party.

“When her two children repaired to Lady Beresford, she thus addressed them: ‘I have something of deep importance to communicate to you, my dear children, before I die.  You are no strangers to the intimacy and the affection which subsisted in early life between Lord Tyrone and myself.  We were educated together when young, under the same roof, in the pernicious principles of Deism.  Our real friends afterwards took every opportunity to convince us of our error, but their arguments were insufficient to overpower and uproot our infidelity, though they had the effect of shaking our confidence in it, and thus leaving us wavering between the two opinions.  In this perplexing state of doubt we made a solemn promise one to the other, that whichever died first should, if permitted, appear to the other for the purpose of declaring what religion was the one acceptable to the Almighty.  One night, years after this interchange of promises, I was sleeping with your father at Gill Hall, when I suddenly awoke and discovered Lord Tyrone sitting visibly by the side of the bed.  I screamed out, and vainly endeavoured to rouse Sir Tristram.  “Tell me,” I said, “Lord Tyrone, why and wherefore are you here at this time of the night?”  “Have you then forgotten our promise to each other, pledged in early life?  I died on Tuesday, at four o’clock.  I have been permitted thus to appear in order to assure you that the revealed religion is the true and only one by which we can be saved.  I am also suffered to inform you that you are with child, and will produce a son, who will marry my heiress; that Sir Tristram will not live long, when you will marry again, and you will die from the effects of childbirth in your forty-seventh year.”  I begged from him some convincing sign or proof so that when the morning came I might rely upon it, and feel satisfied that his appearance had been real, and that it was not the phantom of my imagination.  He caused the hangings of the bed to be drawn in an unusual way and impossible manner through an iron hook.  I still was not satisfied, when he wrote his signature in my pocket-book.  I wanted, however, more substantial proof of his visit, when he laid his hand, which was cold as marble, on my wrist; the sinews shrunk up, the nerves withered at the touch.  “Now,” he said, “let no mortal eye, while you live, ever see that wrist,” and vanished.  While I was conversing with him my thoughts were calm, but as soon as he disappeared I felt chilled with horror and dismay, a cold sweat came over me, and I again endeavoured but vainly to awaken Sir Tristram; a flood of tears came to my relief, and I fell asleep.

“‘In the morning your father got up without disturbing me; he had not noticed anything extraordinary about me or the bed-hangings.  When I did arise I found a long broom in the gallery outside the bedroom door, and with great difficulty I unhooded the curtain, fearing that the