The Valet's Tragedy and Other Stories [51]
version of Lady Lyttelton's. There is no real bird, only a fluttering sound, as in the case of the Cock Lane Ghost, and many other examples. The room is 'preternaturally light,' as in Greek and Norse belief it should have been, and as it is in the best modern ghost stories. Moreover, we have the raison d'etre of the ghost: she had been a victim of the Chief Justice in Eyre. The touch about the clock is in good taste. We did not know all that before.
But, alas! our author of 1828, after quoting the Pitt Place Anonymous, proceeds to tell, citing no named authority, that the ghost was that of Mrs. Amphlett, mother of the two Misses Amphlett, and of a third sister, in no way less distinguished than these by his lordship. Now a ghost cannot be the ghost of two different people. Moreover, Mrs. Amphlett lived (it is said) for years after. However, Mrs. Amphlett has the preference if she 'died of grief at the precise time when the female vision appeared to his lordship,' which makes it odd that her daughters should then have been revelling at Pitt Place under the chaperonage of Mrs. Flood. We are also informed (on no authority) that Lord Lyttelton 'acknowledged' the ghost to have been that of the injured mother of the three Misses Amphlett.
Let not the weary reader imagine that the catena of evidence ends here! His lordship's own ghost did a separate stroke of business, though only in the commonplace character of a deathbed wraith, or 'veridical hallucination.'
Lord Lyttelton had a friend, we learn from 'Past Feelings Renovated' (1828), a friend named Miles Peter Andrews. 'One night after Mr. Andrews had left Pitt Place and gone to Dartford,' where he owned powder-mills, his bed-curtains were pulled open and Lord Lyttelton appeared before him in his robe de chambre and nightcap. Mr. Andrews reproached him for coming to Dartford Mills in such a guise, at such a time of night, and, 'turning to the other side of the bed, rang the bell, when Lord Lyttelton had disappeared.' The house and garden were searched in vain; and about four in the afternoon a friend arrived at Dartford with tidings of his lordship's death.
Here the reader with true common sense remarks that this second ghost, Lord Lyttelton's own, does not appear in evidence till 1828, fifty years after date, and then in an anonymous book, on no authority. We have permitted to the reader this opportunity of exercising his acuteness, while laying a little trap for him. It is not in 1828 that Mr. Andrews's story first appears. We first find it in December 1779--that is, in the month following the alleged event. Mr. Andrews's experience, and the vision of Lord Lyttelton, are both printed in 'The Scots Magazine,' December 1779, p. 650. The account is headed 'A Dream,' and yet the author avers that Lord Lyttelton was wide awake! This illustrates beautifully the fact on which we insist, that 'dream' is eighteenth-century English for ghost, vision, hallucination, or what you will.
'Lord Lyttelton,' says the contemporary 'Scots Magazine,' 'started up from a midnight sleep on perceiving a bird fluttering near the bed-curtains, which vanished suddenly when a female spirit in white raiment presented herself' and prophesied Lord Lyttelton's death in three days. His death is attributed to convulsions while undressing.
The 'dream' of Mr. Andrews (according to 'The Scots Magazine' of December 1779)* occurred at Dartford in Kent, on the night of November 27. It represented Lord Lyttelton drawing his bed- curtains, and saying, 'It is all over,' or some such words.
*The magazine appeared at the end of December.
This Mr. Andrews had been a drysalter. He made a large fortune, owned the powder-mills at Dartford, sat in Parliament, wrote plays which had some success, and was thought a good fellow in raffish society. Indeed, the society was not always raffish. In 'Notes and Queries' (December 26, 1874) H. S. says that his mother, daughter of Sir George Prescott, often met Mr. Andrews at their house, Theobalds Park, Herts. He was extremely agreeable, and,
But, alas! our author of 1828, after quoting the Pitt Place Anonymous, proceeds to tell, citing no named authority, that the ghost was that of Mrs. Amphlett, mother of the two Misses Amphlett, and of a third sister, in no way less distinguished than these by his lordship. Now a ghost cannot be the ghost of two different people. Moreover, Mrs. Amphlett lived (it is said) for years after. However, Mrs. Amphlett has the preference if she 'died of grief at the precise time when the female vision appeared to his lordship,' which makes it odd that her daughters should then have been revelling at Pitt Place under the chaperonage of Mrs. Flood. We are also informed (on no authority) that Lord Lyttelton 'acknowledged' the ghost to have been that of the injured mother of the three Misses Amphlett.
Let not the weary reader imagine that the catena of evidence ends here! His lordship's own ghost did a separate stroke of business, though only in the commonplace character of a deathbed wraith, or 'veridical hallucination.'
Lord Lyttelton had a friend, we learn from 'Past Feelings Renovated' (1828), a friend named Miles Peter Andrews. 'One night after Mr. Andrews had left Pitt Place and gone to Dartford,' where he owned powder-mills, his bed-curtains were pulled open and Lord Lyttelton appeared before him in his robe de chambre and nightcap. Mr. Andrews reproached him for coming to Dartford Mills in such a guise, at such a time of night, and, 'turning to the other side of the bed, rang the bell, when Lord Lyttelton had disappeared.' The house and garden were searched in vain; and about four in the afternoon a friend arrived at Dartford with tidings of his lordship's death.
Here the reader with true common sense remarks that this second ghost, Lord Lyttelton's own, does not appear in evidence till 1828, fifty years after date, and then in an anonymous book, on no authority. We have permitted to the reader this opportunity of exercising his acuteness, while laying a little trap for him. It is not in 1828 that Mr. Andrews's story first appears. We first find it in December 1779--that is, in the month following the alleged event. Mr. Andrews's experience, and the vision of Lord Lyttelton, are both printed in 'The Scots Magazine,' December 1779, p. 650. The account is headed 'A Dream,' and yet the author avers that Lord Lyttelton was wide awake! This illustrates beautifully the fact on which we insist, that 'dream' is eighteenth-century English for ghost, vision, hallucination, or what you will.
'Lord Lyttelton,' says the contemporary 'Scots Magazine,' 'started up from a midnight sleep on perceiving a bird fluttering near the bed-curtains, which vanished suddenly when a female spirit in white raiment presented herself' and prophesied Lord Lyttelton's death in three days. His death is attributed to convulsions while undressing.
The 'dream' of Mr. Andrews (according to 'The Scots Magazine' of December 1779)* occurred at Dartford in Kent, on the night of November 27. It represented Lord Lyttelton drawing his bed- curtains, and saying, 'It is all over,' or some such words.
*The magazine appeared at the end of December.
This Mr. Andrews had been a drysalter. He made a large fortune, owned the powder-mills at Dartford, sat in Parliament, wrote plays which had some success, and was thought a good fellow in raffish society. Indeed, the society was not always raffish. In 'Notes and Queries' (December 26, 1874) H. S. says that his mother, daughter of Sir George Prescott, often met Mr. Andrews at their house, Theobalds Park, Herts. He was extremely agreeable, and,