Have our readers ever heard any fearful story of a spirit attesting the reality of its apparition, by leaving a burnt impress of fingers upon whatever it hath touched? We have heard such a tale, or rather such tales (for literally they are “legion”) from many lips, the circumstances of each being varied, but the main fact always the same: and, what is most extraordinary, always vouched for as being a portion of family history, attached to families who have not the slightest connexion with each other!—If our memory is not extremely treacherous, we believe that Sir Walter Scott, in one of his works (of which we have not the good fortune to possess a copy)—probably his “Ballads and Lyrical Pieces”—gives such a tale as a German tradition. It is, at least, extremely popular; but the Irish family of the Beresfords lay peculiar and original claim to this singular legend. Who has not heard of “The Beresford Ghost?”—Nay, but we must crave the liberty of re-publishing an oft-told tale, were it only in gratitude to some kind and esteemed Irish friends, who, believing that it might prove a novelty to several English readers, procured for us—from a lineal descendant of the family, and inheritor of the name, &c.—the following genuine and authentic document, concerning the celebrated Beresford Ghost:
“Sir Tristram Beresford was a general, in the service of King George I., who married Lady Hamilton, one of the co-heiresses of Lord Glenawley; and having large estates in the county of Tyrone, the family mansion of which was the Castle of Ballygawley, there Sir Tristram and his lady resided. Sir T. was ordered to join his regiment, then serving in Flanders;—he was severely wounded in an engagement, and reported to be dead. The means of communication with most places being in those days extremely difficult and uncertain, Lady Beresford had no means of knowing that the report of her husband’s death was premature; but firmly believing it, she married immediately, as it should seem, a young officer named Georges, to whom she had long been greatly attached. The demise of Sir Tristram Beresford did not, in fact, take place till some days after their union; but on the night when it actually occurred, Captain Georges and his lady having retired to rest, a figure resembling Sir Tristram stood beside their bed, and having undrawn the curtains nearest his late wife, upbraided her with the indecent haste she had used in concluding her second marriage, which had caused her, in fact, to be for many days guilty of an adulterous connexion with her present husband.—She asked him, whether he were yet living?—He answered, that he had died that very hour; and also said, that she had made a disastrous choice, for that her husband would prove very unkind to her, and that she should die in giving birth to their fifth child.
“Captain G. had fallen into a profound slumber, from which, although during this conversation his wife made every effort to arouse him, he could not be awakened. She then said to the semblance of Sir Tristram—
“‘How shall I know that this is not a trick, and that you are not some person disguised to deceive me?’
“Upon which the spectre took up the curtains of the bed, which were suspended from a ring over the tester, and throwing them from his hand, passed them through the ring thrice, saying—‘No human being could do that.’
“‘And yet, replied the lady, it is possible that people may say I did it myself. Can you give me no better token?’
“Then the spectre caught her by the wrist, exclaiming—‘Unto thee shall this be a token!’—when the sinews of that wrist immediately shrivelled up, and the apparition, laying his hand on an escritoire, vanished!
“Captain Georges instantly awoke; and his lady asking him whether he had seen or heard any thing, he replied in the negative; but the sinews of her wrist were seared and shrunken ever after, and the impression of a hand was burnt into the escritoire.[15]
“Shortly afterwards accounts arrived, identifying the hour of Sir Tristram’s decease with that in which his apparition had appeared to his widow; and she was a second time married to Capt. Georges, with whom she lived some years, and had four children; but as she experienced much ill-treatment from him, they parted: he joined his regiment, and she continued to reside in Ballygawley Castle.
“Some years after this separation, they again became friends. He returned to reside with her; and in giving birth to their fifth child, she died, as had been foretold by the apparition.