For many a laugh went through the vale,
And some conviction too;
Each thought some other goblin tale
Perhaps was just as true.
THE
UNFORTUNATE PRIEST,
AND
DEAD BODY.
In a province of Prussia, a man being dead, was carried, as is customary, into the church, the evening previous to the day of his interment. It is usual to place the corpse in an open coffin; and a priest, attended only by a boy of the choir, remains all night praying by the side of the dead body, and on the following day the friends of the deceased come to close up the coffin, and inter the corpse. On this occasion, after the evening service had been performed, every one retired from the church: and the priest, with the young chorister, withdrew to supper; but soon returned, and the former commenced the usual prayers. What was his astonishment, when he beheld the dead body rise from the coffin, and advance towards him. Terrified in the extreme, the priest flew to the font; and, conjuring the corpse to return to its proper station, showered holy water on him in abundance. But the obstinate and evil-minded spirit, disregarding the power of holy water, seized the unfortunate priest, threw him to the ground, and soon, by repeated blows, left him extended, without life, on the pavement. Having committed this act of barbarity, he appeared to return quietly to his coffin. On the following morning, the persons who came to prepare for the funeral, found the priest murdered, and the corpse, as before, in the coffin. Nothing could throw any light on this extraordinary event but the testimony of the boy, who had concealed himself on the first movement of the dead body, and who persisted in declaring, that he saw from his hiding-place the priest killed by the corpse. Conjecture, and endeavours to discover the truth, were alike vain, tormenting, and fruitless. Many resources were tried; for it was not every one that submitted themselves to the belief of a dead body rising to kill a priest, and then quietly resigning itself to the place of its consignment. Many years afterwards, a malefactor, condemned to death for various crimes, and brought to the torture, confessed, that having (for some unknown reason) conceived an implacable hatred against the priest in question, he had formed the design of thus avenging himself. Having found means to remain in the church, he seized the moment of the priest's retiring to supper, withdrew the dead body from the coffin, and placed himself in its stead, in the shroud and other appurtenances. After executing the murder of the priest, he returned the corpse to its place, and got unperceived out of the church, when the friends of the deceased came in the morning to attend the funeral.
THE
VIGIL OF SAINT MARK,
OR
FATAL SUPERSTITION.
Rebecca was the fairest maid
That on the Danube's borders play'd;
And many a handsome nobleman
For her in tilt and tourney ran:
While she, in secret, wished to see
What youth her husband was to be.
Rebecca heard the gossips say,
"Alone, from dusk till midnight, stay
Within the church-porch drear and dark,
Upon the Vigil of St. Mark;
And, lovely maiden, you shall see
What youth your husband is to be."
Rebecca, when the night grew dark,
Upon the Vigil of St. Mark,
Observ'd by Paul, a roguish scout,
Who guess'd the task she went about,
Stepp'd to St. Stephen's church to see
What youth her husband was to be.
Rebecca heard the screech-owl cry,
And saw the black-bat round her fly;
She sat till, wild with fear at last,
Her blood grew cold, her pulse beat fast;
And yet, rash maid, she stopp'd to see
What youth her husband was to be.
Rebecca heard the midnight chime
Ring out the yawning peal of time,
When shrouded Paul, unlucky knave!
Rose, like a spectre from the grave,
And cried—"Fair maiden, come with me,
For I your bridegroom am to be."