Читать книгу Personal Sketches of His Own Times, Vol. 1 (of 3) - Jonah Barrington - Страница 8

Murder of Captain O’Flaherty by Mr. Lanegan, his sons’ tutor, and Mrs. O’Flaherty – The latter, after betraying her accomplice, escapes – Trial of Lanegan – He is hanged and quartered at Dublin – Terrific appearance of his supposed ghost to his pupil, David Lauder, and the author, at the Temple, in London – Lauder nearly dies of fright – Lanegan’s extraordinary escape; not even suspected in Ireland – He gets off to France, and enters the Monastery of La Trappe – All-Hallow Eve – A church-yard anecdote – My own superstition nearly fatal to me.

Captain O’Flaherty, a most respectable gentleman, resided in Clare-street, Dublin, opposite my father’s house. He had employed a person of the name of Lanegan, as tutor to the late John Burke O’Flaherty, and his other sons. But after some little time Lanegan became more attentive to Mrs. O’Flaherty, the mother, than to her boys.

This woman had certainly no charms either of appearance or address, which might be thought calculated to captivate any one; and there was a something indescribably repulsive in her general manners, in consequence whereof all acquaintance between her and our family soon terminated. She was not satisfied with the occasional society of Mr. Lanegan, whilst he continued in the house as tutor, but actually proceeded to form a criminal intercourse with him; and, in order to free herself from all restraint, meditated the very blackest of human crimes, which she determined to perpetrate by giving the unfortunate captain a rice-pudding for his dinner, by virtue whereof she might at any rate be saved the trouble of ever making another for him.

Mr. Lanegan was with this view sent by her to several apothecaries’ shops; at each of which, to avoid suspicion, he asked for a very little stuff to kill the rats; and thus, by small portions, they ultimately procured a sufficient quantity to kill not only the rats, but the husband into the bargain.

The murderous scheme was carried into execution by Mrs. O’Flaherty herself, and the captain was found dead in his bed! Some misgivings, however, were generated from the appearance of the body, which swelled and exhibited black spots: and these, with other unequivocal signs, conspired to prove that the rats (for they were actually dealt with) had not been the only sufferers. The Coroner’s Inquest, indeed, soon decided the matter, by a verdict of “Poisoned by Arsenic.”

Mrs. O’Flaherty and Mr. Lanegan began now to suspect that they were in rather a ticklish situation, and determined to take a private journey into the country until they should discover how things were likely to go. The adulterous wife, full of crime and terror, conceived a suspicion that Lanegan, who had only purchased the poison by her directions, and had not administered it (except to the rats), might turn king’s evidence, get the reward, and save himself by convicting her. Such a catastrophe she therefore determined, if possible, to prevent.

On their journey she told him that, upon full consideration, she conceived there could be no possibility of bringing conclusive evidence against them, inasmuch as it would appear most probable that the captain had, by accident, taken the poison himself – and that she was determined to surrender and take her trial as soon as possible, recommending Mr. Lanegan to do the same. In pursuance of this decision, as they passed near the town of Gowran, County Kilkenny, she said, “There is the gate of a magistrate: do you go up first, put on a bold face, assure him of your entire innocence, and say that, as infamous and false reports have been spread, both of yourself and me, you came expressly to surrender and take your trial; – for that you could not live in society under such vile imputations! Say, also, that you hear Mrs. O’Flaherty intends likewise to surrender herself in the evening, and request that he will be at home to receive her.”

Lanegan, suspecting no fraud, followed these instructions literally; – he was secured, though without roughness, and preparations were made for his being taken to Dublin next day in custody. The magistrate waited for Mrs. O’Flaherty, but she did not appear: he sent down to his gate-house to know if any lady had passed by: the porter informed him that a lady and gentleman had been near the gate in a carriage, in the morning, and that the gentleman got out and went up the avenue to the house, after which the lady had driven away.

It now appearing that they had been actually together, and that Lanegan had been telling falsehoods respecting his companion, strong suspicions arose in the mind of the magistrate. His prisoner was confined more closely, sent under a strong guard to Dublin, indicted for murder, and tried at the ensuing commission.

Positive evidence was given of Lanegan’s criminal connexion with Mrs. O’Flaherty, coupled with the strongest circumstantial proof against him. He had not the courage boldly to deny the fact, and being found guilty, was sentenced to be hanged and quartered; the former part of which sentence having been carried into execution, his body, after a cut on each limb, was delivered to his mother for burial. – Mrs. O’Flaherty escaped beyond sea, and has, I believe, never since been heard of in the country.

Such is the history which forms the prelude to an occurrence some time afterward in which I was a party, and which may be regarded as a curious illustration of stories of supposed ghosts.

A templar and a friend of mine, Mr. David Lauder, a soft, fat, good-humoured, superstitious young fellow, was sitting in his lodgings, (Devereux-court, London,) one evening at twilight. I was with him, and we were agreeably employed in eating strawberries and drinking Madeira. While chatting away in cheerful mood, and laughing loudly at some remark made by one of us, my back being toward the door, I perceived my friend’s colour suddenly change – his eyes seemed fixed and ready to start out of his head – his lips quivered convulsively – his teeth chattered – large drops of perspiration flowed down his forehead, and his hair stood nearly erect.

As I saw nothing calculated to excite these emotions, I naturally conceived my friend was seized with a fit, and rose to assist him. He did not regard my movements in the least, but seizing a knife which lay on the table, with the gait of a palsied man retreated backward – his eyes still fixed – to a distant part of the room, where he stood shivering, and attempting to pray; but not at the moment recollecting any prayer, he began to repeat his catechism, thinking it the next best thing he could do: as – “What is your name? David Lauder! Who gave you that name? My godfathers and godmothers in my baptism!” &c. &c.

I instantly concluded the man was mad; and turning about to go for some assistance, was myself not a little startled at sight of a tall, rough-looking personage, many days unshaved, in a very shabby black dress, and altogether of the most uncouth appearance. The stranger and I stood for a moment opposite each other, staring and motionless: at length he broke silence, and addressing my friend, said, in a low croaking voice, “Don’t be frightened, Mr. Lauder; sure ’tis me that’s here.”

When Davy heard the voice, he fell on his knees, and subsequently flat upon his face, in which position he lay motionless.

The spectre (as I now began to imagine it was) stalked toward the door, and I was in hopes he intended to make his exit thereby; instead of which, however, having deliberately shut and bolted it, he sat himself down in the chair I had previously occupied, with a countenance nearly as full of horror as that of Davy Lauder himself.

I was now totally bewildered; and scarce knowing what to do, was about to throw a jug of water over my friend, to revive him if possible, when the stranger, in his croaking voice, cried —

“For the love of God, give me some of that, – for I am perishing!” – I hesitated, but at length did so: he took the jug and drank immoderately.

My friend Davy now ventured to look up a little, and perceiving that I was becoming so familiar with the goblin, his courage somewhat revived, although his speech was still confused: – he stammered, rose upon his knees, held up his hands as if in supplication, and gazed at the figure for some time, but at length made up his mind that it was tangible and mortal. The effect of this decision on the face of Davy was as ludicrous as the fright had been. He seemed quite ashamed of his former terror, and affected to be stout as a lion! though it was visible that he was not at his ease. He now roared out in the broad, cursing Kerry dialect: “Why then, blood and thunder! is that you, Lanegan?”

“Ah, Sir, speak low!” said the wretched being.

“How the devil,” resumed Davy, “did you get your four quarters stitched together again, after the hangman cut them off of you at Stephen’s Green!”

“Ah, Gentlemen!” exclaimed the poor culprit, “speak low: have mercy on me, Master Davy; you know it was I taught you your Latin. – I’m starving to death!”

“You shall not die in that way, you villanous schoolmaster!” said Davy, pushing toward him a loaf of bread and a bottle of wine that stood on the table, – but standing aloof himself, as though not yet quite decided as to the nature of the intruder.

The miserable creature having eaten the bread with avidity, and drunk two or three glasses of wine, the lamp of life once more seemed to brighten up. After a pause, he communicated every circumstance relating to his sudden appearance before us. He confessed having bought the arsenic at the desire of Mrs. O’Flaherty, and that he was aware of the application of it, but solemnly protested that it was she who had seduced him; he then proceeded to inform us that after having been duly hanged, the sheriff had delivered his body to his mother, but not until the executioner had given a slight cut on each limb, just to save the law; which cuts bled profusely, and were probably the means of preserving his life. His mother, conceiving that the vital spark was not extinct, had put him into bed, dressed his wounded limbs, and rubbed his neck with hot vinegar. Having steadily pursued this process, and accompanied it by pouring warm brandy and water down his throat, in the course of an hour he was quite sensible, but experienced horrid pains for several weeks before his final recovery. His mother filled the coffin he was brought home in with bricks, and got some men to bury it the same night in Kilmainham burial-ground, as if ashamed to inter him in open day. For a long time he was unable to depart, being every moment in dread of discovery: – at length, however, he got off by night in a smuggling boat, which landed him on the Isle of Man, and from thence he contrived to reach London, bearing a letter from a priest at Kerry to another priest who had lived in the Borough, the purport of which was to get him admitted into a monastery in France. But finding the Southwark priest was dead, he then went to Scotland, using various disguises; and returning to town, was afraid, though possessing some little money sent him by his mother, even to buy food, for fear of detection! but recollecting that Mr. Lauder, his old scholar, lived somewhere in the Temple, he had got directed by a porter to the lodging the night before.

My friend Davy, though he did not half like it, suffered this poor devil to sit in the chamber till the following evening. He then procured him a place in the night coach to Rye, from whence he got to St. Vallery, and was received, as I afterward learnt from a very grateful letter which he sent to Lauder, into the monastery of La Trappe, near Abbeville, where he lived in strict seclusion, and died, as I heard, some years since.

This incident is not related as a mere isolated anecdote, unconnected with any serious general considerations; but rather with a view to show how many deceptions a man’s imagination may hastily subject him to; and to impress the consideration that nothing should be regarded as supernatural, which can by possibility be the result of human interference.

In the present case, if Lanegan had withdrawn before Lauder had arisen and spoken to him, no reasoning upon earth could ever have convinced the Templar of the materiality of the vision. As Lanegan’s restoration to life after execution had not at that time been spoken of, nor even suspected, Lauder would have willingly deposed, upon the Holy Evangelists, that he had seen the actual ghost of the schoolmaster who had been hanged and quartered in Dublin a considerable time before; his identification of the man’s person being rendered unequivocal from the circumstance of his having been formerly Lanegan’s pupil. And I must confess that I should myself have seen no reason to doubt Lauder’s assertions, had the man withdrawn from the chamber before he spoke to me – to do which, under the circumstances, it was by no means improbable fear might have induced him.

Thus one of the “best authenticated ghost stories ever related” has been lost to the history of supernatural occurrences. The circumstance, however, did not cure Davy Lauder in the least of his dread of apparitions, which was excessive.

Nor have I much right to reproach my friend’s weakness in this particular. I have, on the other hand, throughout my observations admitted – nay, I fear, occasionally boasted – that I was myself superstitious. The species of reading I adopted and ardently pursued from my infancy upward may, I admit, have impressed my mind indelibly; and the consciousness of this fact should have served to render me rather sceptical than credulous upon any subject that bore a mysterious character.

My relations, whilst I was a boy, took it into their heads that I was a decided coward in this way, which though I in round terms denied, I freely admitted at the same time my coyness with regard to trying any unnecessary experiments or making any superstitious invocations, particularly on Allhallow-eve,25 or other mysterious days, whereupon a sort of bastard witchcraft is always practised in Ireland.

Hence I was universally ridiculed on those anniversaries for my timidity; and, one Allhallow-eve, my father proposed to have a prayer-book, with a £5 bank-note in it, left on a certain tomb-stone in an old catholic burial-ground quite apart from any road, and covered with trees. It was two or three fields’ distance from the dwelling-house; and the proposal was, that if I would go there at twelve o’clock at night, and bring back the book and a dead man’s bone, (many of which latter were scattered about the cemetery,) the note should be mine; and, as an additional encouragement, I was never after to be charged with cowardice. My pride took fire, and I determined, even though I might burst a blood-vessel through agitation, or break my neck in running home again, I would perform the feat, and put an end to the imputation.

The matter therefore was fully arranged. The night proved very dark; the path was intricate, but I was accustomed to it. There were two or three stiles to be crossed; and the Irish always conceive that if a ghost is any where in the neighbourhood, he invariably chooses a stile at which to waylay the passengers.

However, at the appointed hour I set out. I dare say most ladies and gentlemen who may read this know what palpitation of the heart means; if so, let them be so good as to fancy an excess of that feeling, and they may then form some idea of the sensations with which I first touched the cold grave-stones of the dead, who, if they had possessed any spirit, would have arisen, en masse, to defend their bones from being made the subject of ridiculous experiment.

Having groped for some time in the dark, I found the book, but my hand refused to lift it, and I sat down panting and starting at every rustle of the foliage: through the gloom wherewith the trunks and branches of the trees were invested, my excited imagination conjured up figures and shapes which I expected, at every glance, would open into skeletons or shrouded spectres! I would, at that moment, have given the world to be at home again! – but I really could not stir: my breath had got too short, and my eyesight too confused, for motion.

By degrees these sensations subsided. I obtained a little confidence; the moving of a branch no longer startled me, and I should have got on well enough had not an unlucky goat, which came roaming near the place, though with a different object, thrown me into a complete relapse. At the conclusion of about half an hour, however, which appeared to me at least five-and-twenty years, I secured the book snugly in my pocket, together with a dead man’s thigh-bone, which I tied up in a cloth brought with me for the purpose; and, fastening this round my waist, lest it should drop during my flight, I made a very rapid exit from this scene of perilous achievement.

Having reached the house in triumph, and taken a large tumbler of wine, I proceeded to exhibit my book, put the bank-note in my pocket, and with an affectation of unconcern untied my cloth and flung my huge thigh-bone upon the supper-table. I had my full revenge! The girls, who had been amusing themselves by telling each other’s fortunes, tossing coffee, burning nuts, turning shifts, writing abracadabras, &c. &c. &c., were cruelly shocked – they all set up a loud shriek, and whilst some were half swooning, others ran headlong out of the room, or rolled over the chairs. My courage now grew rampant: I laughed at their terrors, saying, if they pleased, they might leave the bone on the top of my bed till morning, and that would sufficiently show, who was most in dread of dead people! —

Confidence was at length restored on all sides. I was half cured of my superstitious fears, and the family universally admitted that I certainly should make a brave general if I went into the army. We made merry till a late hour, when I retired joyously to bed, and sleep very soon began to make still further amends for my terrors.

While dreaming away most agreeably, I was suddenly aroused by a rustling noise for which I could not account. I sat up, and, upon listening, found it to proceed from the top of my bed, whereon something was in rapid motion. The dead man’s thigh-bone immediately started into my recollection, and horrible ideas flashed across my mind. A profuse perspiration burst out at once on my forehead, my hair rose, the cramp seized both my legs, and just gathering power to call out “Murder, Murder! – help, help!” I buried my head under the clothes. In this situation, I could neither hear nor see, and was besides almost suffocated: after awhile, I began to think I might have been dreaming, and with that idea thrusting my head fearfully out, the bone (for that it certainly was) sprang with a tremendous crash from the bed down beside me upon the floor, where it exhibited as many signs of life (probably more) than when its original owner was in legal possession of it. Upon viewing this, my spirits sank again, I shook like a man in an ague, gave some inarticulate screams, and at length dropped back, nearly senseless, upon the pillow with my eyes covered.

How long I lay thus, I know not; I only remember that the bone still continued its movements, and now and then striking a chair or table, warned me of my probable fate from its justly enraged proprietor, who, I was apprehensive, would soon appear to demand his undoubted property. Had the scene continued long, I actually believe I should scarce have survived it: but at last, paradise seemed all on the sudden to be regained, though in no very orthodox way. A loud laugh at the door clearly announced that I had been well played off upon by the ladies, for my abrupt display of a dead man’s bone on a supper-table. The whole of the young folks entered my room in a body, with candles; and after having been reassured, and nourished by a tumbler of buttered white wine, I obtained, by degrees, knowledge of the trick which had occasioned a laugh so loud, so long, and so mortifying to my self-conceit.

The device was simple enough: a couple of cords had been tied to the bone, and drawn under the door, which was at the bed’s foot; and by pulling these alternately, the conspirators kept the bone in motion, until their good-humoured joke had well nigh resulted in the loss of their kinsman’s reason.

My character for bravery as to supernaturals was thus finally demolished; – and my general courage was also considered as a doubtful matter, in consequence of a most plausible piece of argument used by old Christopher Julian, a retired exciseman, who occasionally came down from his little cottage to take some shrub-punch at my father’s house. He was very humourous, and we all liked him.

“Sure, Master Jonah,” said the old gauger, “cowardice is occasioned only by the fear of death?”

I assented.

“And whether a man comes to that death by another man or by a ghost, it’s just the same thing to him?”

“Certainly,” said I, very inconsiderately giving in to him.

“Then,” said Kit Julian, triumphantly, “how the devil can a man be stout as to a man, and afraid of a ghost? If I knew any such shy cocks, they never should get into the revenue. The devil a smuggler ever they’d face; and then heigh for the potsheen, and contrabands! If a man’s not afraid for his own carcass, he’d never dread another man’s winding sheet!”

“That’s true,” said my father, and the laugh was turned completely against me.