The Valet's Tragedy and Other Stories [53]
tale. In a preternatural light, in a midnight chamber, Miss Lee saw a woman, who proclaimed herself Miss Lee's dead mother, 'and that by twelve o'clock of the day she should be with her.' So Miss Lee died in her chair next day, on the stroke of noon, and Dr. Hibbert rather heartlessly calls this 'a fortunate circumstance.'
The Rev. Mr. Fison, in 'Kamilaroi and Kurnai,' gives, from his own experience, similar tales of death following alleged ghostly warnings, among Fijians and Australian blacks. Lord Lyttelton's uneasiness and apprehension are conspicuous in all versions; his dreams had long been troubled, his health had caused him anxiety, the 'warning' (whatever it may have been) clinched the matter, and he died a perfectly natural death.
Mr. Coulton, omitting Walpole's statement that he 'looked ill,' and never alluding to the Pitt Place description of his very alarming symptoms, but clinging fondly to his theory of Junius, perorates thus: 'Not Dante, or Milton, or Shakespeare himself, could have struck forth a finer conception than Junius, in the pride of rank, wealth, and dignities, raised to the Council table of the sovereign he had so foully slandered--yet sick at heart and deeply stained with every profligacy--terminating his career by deliberate self- murder, with every accompaniment of audacious charlatanry that could conceal the crime.'
It is magnificent, it is worthy of Dante, or Shakespeare himself-- but the conception is Mr. Coulton's.
We do not think that we have provided what Dr. Johnson 'liked,' 'evidence for the spiritual world.' Nor have we any evidence explanatory of the precise nature of Lord Lyttelton's hallucination. The problem of the authorship of the 'Junius Letters' is a malstrom into which we decline to be drawn.
But it is fair to observe that all the discrepancies in the story of the 'warning' are not more numerous, nor more at variance with each other, than remote hearsay reports of any ordinary occurrence are apt to be. And we think it is plain that, if Lord Lyttelton WAS Junius, Mr. Coulton had no right to allege that Junius went and hanged himself, or, in any other way, was guilty of self-murder.
VI. THE MYSTERY OF AMY ROBSART
1. HISTORICAL CONFUSIONS AS TO EVENTS BEFORE AMY'S DEATH
Let him who would weep over the tribulations of the historical inquirer attend to the tale of the Mystery of Amy Robsart!
The student must dismiss from his memory all that he recollects of Scott's 'Kenilworth.' Sir Walter's chivalrous motto was 'No scandal about Queen Elizabeth,' 'tis blazoned on his title-page. To avoid scandal, he calmly cast his narrative at a date some fifteen years after Amy Robsart's death, brought Amy alive, and represented Queen Elizabeth as ignorant of her very existence. He might, had he chosen, have proved to his readers that, as regards Amy Robsart and her death, Elizabeth was in a position almost as equivocal as was Mary Stuart in regard to the murder of Darnley. Before the murder of Darnley we do not hear one word to suggest that Mary was in love with Bothwell. For many months before the death of Amy (Lady Robert Dudley), we hear constant reports that Elizabeth has a love affair with Lord Robert, and that Amy is to be divorced or murdered. When Darnley is killed, a mock investigation acquits Bothwell, and Mary loads him with honours and rewards. When Amy dies mysteriously, a coroner's inquest, deep in the country, is held, and no records of its proceedings can be found. Its verdict is unknown. After a brief tiff, Elizabeth restores Lord Robert to favour.
After Darnley's murder, Mary's ambassador in France implores her to investigate the matter with all diligence. After Amy's death, Elizabeth's ambassador in France implores her to investigate the matter with all diligence. Neither lady listens to her loyal servant, indeed Mary could not have pursued the inquiry, however innocent she might have been. Elizabeth could! In three months after Darnley's murder, Mary married Bothwell. In two months after Amy's death Cecil told (apparently)
The Rev. Mr. Fison, in 'Kamilaroi and Kurnai,' gives, from his own experience, similar tales of death following alleged ghostly warnings, among Fijians and Australian blacks. Lord Lyttelton's uneasiness and apprehension are conspicuous in all versions; his dreams had long been troubled, his health had caused him anxiety, the 'warning' (whatever it may have been) clinched the matter, and he died a perfectly natural death.
Mr. Coulton, omitting Walpole's statement that he 'looked ill,' and never alluding to the Pitt Place description of his very alarming symptoms, but clinging fondly to his theory of Junius, perorates thus: 'Not Dante, or Milton, or Shakespeare himself, could have struck forth a finer conception than Junius, in the pride of rank, wealth, and dignities, raised to the Council table of the sovereign he had so foully slandered--yet sick at heart and deeply stained with every profligacy--terminating his career by deliberate self- murder, with every accompaniment of audacious charlatanry that could conceal the crime.'
It is magnificent, it is worthy of Dante, or Shakespeare himself-- but the conception is Mr. Coulton's.
We do not think that we have provided what Dr. Johnson 'liked,' 'evidence for the spiritual world.' Nor have we any evidence explanatory of the precise nature of Lord Lyttelton's hallucination. The problem of the authorship of the 'Junius Letters' is a malstrom into which we decline to be drawn.
But it is fair to observe that all the discrepancies in the story of the 'warning' are not more numerous, nor more at variance with each other, than remote hearsay reports of any ordinary occurrence are apt to be. And we think it is plain that, if Lord Lyttelton WAS Junius, Mr. Coulton had no right to allege that Junius went and hanged himself, or, in any other way, was guilty of self-murder.
VI. THE MYSTERY OF AMY ROBSART
1. HISTORICAL CONFUSIONS AS TO EVENTS BEFORE AMY'S DEATH
Let him who would weep over the tribulations of the historical inquirer attend to the tale of the Mystery of Amy Robsart!
The student must dismiss from his memory all that he recollects of Scott's 'Kenilworth.' Sir Walter's chivalrous motto was 'No scandal about Queen Elizabeth,' 'tis blazoned on his title-page. To avoid scandal, he calmly cast his narrative at a date some fifteen years after Amy Robsart's death, brought Amy alive, and represented Queen Elizabeth as ignorant of her very existence. He might, had he chosen, have proved to his readers that, as regards Amy Robsart and her death, Elizabeth was in a position almost as equivocal as was Mary Stuart in regard to the murder of Darnley. Before the murder of Darnley we do not hear one word to suggest that Mary was in love with Bothwell. For many months before the death of Amy (Lady Robert Dudley), we hear constant reports that Elizabeth has a love affair with Lord Robert, and that Amy is to be divorced or murdered. When Darnley is killed, a mock investigation acquits Bothwell, and Mary loads him with honours and rewards. When Amy dies mysteriously, a coroner's inquest, deep in the country, is held, and no records of its proceedings can be found. Its verdict is unknown. After a brief tiff, Elizabeth restores Lord Robert to favour.
After Darnley's murder, Mary's ambassador in France implores her to investigate the matter with all diligence. After Amy's death, Elizabeth's ambassador in France implores her to investigate the matter with all diligence. Neither lady listens to her loyal servant, indeed Mary could not have pursued the inquiry, however innocent she might have been. Elizabeth could! In three months after Darnley's murder, Mary married Bothwell. In two months after Amy's death Cecil told (apparently)