After a period of some months, Lady B. was delivered of a son; she had before been the mother of two daughters only. Sir Marcus survived the birth of his son little more than four years. After his decease his lady went but little from home; she visited no family but that of a clergyman, who resided in the same village, with whom she frequently passed a few hours, the rest of her time was entirely devoted to solitude, and she appeared forever determined to banish all other society. The clergyman’s family consisted of himself, his wife, and one son, who at Sir M’s. death was quite a youth; to this son, however, she was afterwards married, in the space of a few years, notwithstanding the disparity of his years, and the manifest imprudence of such a connection, so unequal in every respect.
The event justified the expectation of every one. Lady B. was treated by her young husband with neglect and cruelty, and the whole of his conduct evinced him the most abandoned libertine, utterly destitute of every principle of virtue and humanity. To this her second husband, Lady B. brought two daughters; afterwards, such was the profligacy of his conduct, that she insisted upon a separation. They parted for sometime, when so great was the sorrow he expressed for his former ill conduct, that, won over by his supplication and promises, she was induced to pardon, and once more reside with him; and was, after sometime made the mother of a son.
The day on which she had him in a month, being the anniversary of her birthday, she sent for Lady ——, of whose friendship she had long been possessed, and a few friends, to request them to spend the day with her. About noon the clergyman by whom she had been baptised, and with whom she had all her life maintained an intimacy, came into the room to inquire after her health; she told him she felt perfectly well, and requested him to spend the day with her, it being her birthday. “For, (said she) I am forty-eight this day.” “No, my lady, (answered the clergyman) you are mistaken, your mother and myself have had many disputes concerning your age, and I have at length discovered I am right; happening to go last week to the parish where you were born, I was resolved to put an end to my doubt by searching the register, and find that you are forty-seven this day.”
“You have signed my death warrant, (said she) I have not much longer to live. I must, therefore entreat you to leave me immediately, as I have something of importance to settle before I die.”
When the clergyman had left Lady B. she sent to forbid her company coming; and at the same time to request Lady ——, and her son, of whom Sir M. Beresford was father, and who then was about twelve years of age, to come to her apartment. Immediatly upon their arrival, having ordered her attendants to quit the room, “I have (said she) something to communicate to you both before I die, a period which is not far distant. You, lady are no stranger to the friendship that always existed between Lord Tyrone and myself; we were educated under the same roof, in the same principles, those of Deism. When the friends into whose hands we afterwards fell, endeavored to persuade us to embrace the revealed religion, their arguments, though insufficient to convince us, were powerful enough to stagger our former faith, and to leave us wavering between two opinions. In this perplexing state of doubt and uncertainty, we made a solemn promise to each other, that whichever should happen to die first, would, if permitted by the Almighty, appear to the other to declare what religion was acceptable to him. Accordingly one night, when Sir M. and myself were in bed, I awoke, and discovered Lord Tyrone sitting by my bedside; I screamed out, and endeavored, but in vain, to awake Sir M. ‘For heaven’s sake, Lord Tyrone, (said I) by what means, or for what purpose came you this time of night?’ ‘Have you forgot our promise? (said he) I died last Tuesday, at four o’clock, and have been permitted by the Supreme Being to appear to you, to assure you that the revealed religion is the true and only religion by which we can be saved. I am further suffered to inform you, that you are with child of a son, who is decreed to marry my daughter; not many years after his birth, Sir M. will die, and you will marry again, and to a man whose ill treatment you will be rendered miserable by; you will bring him two daughters, and afterwards a son, in child-bed of whom you will die, in the forty-seventh year of your age.’
“Just heaven, (exclaimed I) and cannot I prevent this?’ ‘Undoubtly you may, (returned he); you have a free assent, and may prevent all by resisting every temptation to a second marriage; but your passions are strong, you know not their power; hitherto you have had no trial, nor am I allowed to tell you, but if after this warning you persist in your infidelity, your lot in another world will be miserable indeed.’ ‘May I ask, (said I) if you are happy?’ ‘Had I been otherwise, (said he) I should not have been thus permitted to appear to you.’ ‘I may thence infer that you are happy?’ He smiled, but did not answer.
“But how, said I, when the morning comes, shall I be convinced that your appearance to me thus has been real, and not the mere phantom of my imagination.’ ‘Will not the news of my death, (said he) be sufficient to convince you?’ ‘No (returned I,) I might have had such a dream, and that dream might accidentally come to pass; I must have stronger proofs of its reality.’ ‘You shall,’ said he; then waving his hand, the bed curtains, which were of crimson velvet, were instantly drawn through a large iron hoop, by which the tester of the bed, which was of an oval form, was suspended: ‘In that (said he) you cannot be mistaken; no mortal could have performed this.’ ‘True, (said I) but sleeping we are often possessed of far greater strength than awake; though awake I could not have done it, asleep I might. I shall still doubt.’ He then said, ‘You have a pocket-book, on the leaves of which I will write: you know my handwriting.’ I replied ‘Yes.’ He wrote with a pencil on one side of the leaves. ‘Still, (said I) in the morning, I doubt, though awake I may not imitate your hand, asleep I might.’
‘You are born of belief, I must not touch you, it would injure you irreparably, it is not for spirits to touch mortal flesh.’ I do not mind a small blemish,’ said I. ‘You are a woman of spirit, (said he) hold out your hand.’ I did; he touched my wrist; his hand was as cold as marble; in a moment the sinews shrunk up, every nerve withered. ‘Now (said he) while you live, let no mortal eye behold that wrist, to see it will be sacrilege.’ He stopped; I turned to him again—he was gone. During the time in which I had conversed with him, my thoughts were perfectly calm and collected, but the moment he was gone I felt chilled with horror, and a cold sweat came over me; every limb and joint shook under me; I endeavored to awake Sir M. but in vain; all my efforts were ineffectual. In this state of agitation I lay some time, when a shower of tears came to my relief, and I droped asleep. In the morning Sir Marcus arose and dressed himself as usual, without perceiving the state in which the curtains remained. When I awoke, I found Sir Marcus was gone down. I arose, and having put on my clothes, went into the gallery adjoining our apartment, and took from thence a long broom, such a one as in a large house is frequently used to sweep the cornices, with the help of which, though not without difficulty, I took down the curtains, as I imagined their extraordinary position would excite wonder among the servants, and occasion inquiries I wished to avoid. I then went to my bureau, locked up the pocket-book and took out a piece of black ribbon which I bound round my wrist. When I came down, the agitation of my mind on my countenance, was too visible to pass long unobserved by Sir Marcus; he instantly remarked my confusion, and inquired the cause. I told him I was well, perfectly well, but informed him Lord Tyrone was no more, that he died on the preceding Tuesday at the hour of four, and at the same time entreated him to drop all inquiries concerning the black ribbon he noticed on my wrist. He kindly desisted any further importunity, nor did he ever after imagine the cause. You, my son, as had been foretold, I brought into the world with much rejoicing, and in little more than four years after your birth your father died in my arms. After the melancholy event, I determined, as the, only probable means by which to avoid the dreadful sequel of the prediction, to give up every pleasure, and to pass the remainder of my days in solitude. But few can endure to remain in a state of superstition. I commenced an intercourse with one family, and only one; nor could I then see the fatal consequences which afterwards resulted from it. Little did I imagine that their son, their only son, then a mere youth, would prove the person alloted by fate to prove my undoing. In a few years I ceased to regard him with indifference; I endeavored by every possible means to repel a passion, the fatal consequences of which, if ever I should be weak enough to yield to its impulse, I too well knew, and fondly imagined I should overcome its influence; when in the evening of one fatal day ended my fortitude, and plunged me in a moment down that abyss I had been so long meditating how to shun. He had frequently been soliciting his parents to go into the army, and at length obtained their permission, and came to bid me farewell before his departure.
The moment he entered the room he fell down on his knees at my feet and, told me he was miserable, that I alone was the cause of it. That instant my fortitude forsook me, I gave myself up for lost; and considering my fate as inevitable, without further hesitation consented to an union, the immediate result of which I knew to be misery, and its end death. The conduct of my husband, after a few years were passed, amply warranted my demand for a separation; I hoped by this means to avoid the fatal sequel to the prophecy; but, won over by his repeated entreaties, I was prevailed on to pardon and once more to reside with him, though not until I had, as I supposed, passed my forty-seventh year; but, I have heard this day from indisputable authority that I have hitherto laid under a mistake with regard to my age, that I am but forty-seven this day. Of the near approach of my death, I entertain not the least doubt, but I do not dread it; armed with the sacred precepts of Christianity, I can meet the King of Terrors without dismay; and, without a tear, bid adieu to the regions of mortality for ever.
“When I am dead, as the necessity of its concealment closes with my life, I wish that you, my lady, would unbind my wrist, take from hence the ribbon, and let my son with yourself behold it.” Lady B. here paused for some time, but resuming her conversation, she entreated her son to behave so as to merit the high honor he would in future receive from an union with lord Tyrone’s daughter. Lady B. then expressed a wish to lie down on a bed to compose herself asleep. Lady ——, and her son immediately called her attendants, and quitted the room, after having first desired them attentively to watch their mistress, and should they observe any change in her, to call instantly. An hour passed, and all was silent in the room, they listened at the door and every thing was still; but in half an hour more a bell rung violently, they flew to her apartment, but before they reached the door of it they heard the servants exclaim, “my mistress is dead.” Lady ——, then desiring the servants to quit the room. Lady B’s son with herself then approached the bed of his mother, they knelt down by the side of it. Lady ——, they lifted up her hand, unbound the black ribbon, and found the wrist exactly in the same state Lady B. had described, every nerve withered, every sinew shrunk up. Lady B’s son, as has been predicted, is now married to Lord Tyrone’s daughter; the black ribbon and pocket-book are now in the possession of Lady ——, by whom the above narrative is stated, in Ireland; who together with the Tyrone family, will be found to attest its truth.