Year: 1872

MIoCcIltNy.


THE GHOST OF LAWFORD HALL.


EVERY word of the following story,
taken down by me five years ago, from
the lips of a lady in Warwickshire, may
be relied upon as entirely true, without
any addition from my pen.-W. T. I


1t is now about thirty years ago that I
and my husband, not long after our mar
riage, went on a visit to Lawford Hall, an
old house near Rugby, which had long
desired to see. remember posted alone
from Coventry, near which town we had
been staying, as my husband had gone on
two days before to attend to some coun-
try races, where the Lawfords were run
ming favorlte horse, and to go hunting
the next day with the old baronet At
the last WaIwickshire house in which we
had been staying, 1picked up one wet
day, in the library, an old book of trials,
which contained illusions to Lawford
Hall. For three hours in cozy nook of
that old Elizabethan room-where Van
dykes cavaliers seemed longing to come
out of their frames to talk to you'll sat
absorbed over a strange and terrible
poisoning case which had made all War
wickshire shudder sixty years before





usually sensitive to Impressions; and all
the details of this crime, from some rea
son or another, became printed, or, may
rather say, photographed On my retina,
with sharpness and vividness that was
almost painful. | saw the great plumed
bed where the rich man lay; again the
thin, Hogarthian figure of the younger
step-brother, in the old costume, stole
with silent foot through the shadow of
the broad oak staircase, and past the cur
tanned bed to the mantel-piece where the
low row of bottles stood l saw the thin
ing, trembling, white hand, with the lace
ruffie all but covering it, remove half
the contents of one phial and SUBJ
stitute the laurel water that he had
distilled, with cruel and calculating
care, in his own locked-up room. I
heard the dreadful cry of the dying man
as his step-brother bent over him. l
could hear the ringing hoofs of the doc
tors horse as it came down the Rugby
road. l could see the grave face of the
man in black as he stood by the bedside,
and raising the cold, waxen head, let it
fall again, uttering only these few solemn
words, cit is too late, he is dead" Then
l followed the surgeon down to the vain
scotted parlor, where the murderer, with
hypocritical grief, told his planned story
VI olC CduSC VI nlS UlObuCl duu w I'LL
subtle craft evaded any examination of
the body. l tracked the poisoner to the
quiet summer garden, where he eyed me
with bitter smile, as he passed the laurel
from whence he had plucked the fatal
leaves. | heard him stop and tell, with
exultation, the old gardener, who was
resting on his spade, "that it would be
easy days with the old servants now, not
as in Sir Edwards time, and that he had
long worked to be master Of Lawford
Hall, and was so at last" I watched
him tremble when the letter came from
his brothers friend, sternly and coldly
desiring that the body should be exam
1ned; step by step, indeed, l followed
that soft-spoken, decorous, cat-like, cruel
villain till 1 left him with irons round his
small wrists, while the morning coach
was preparing which was to take him to
the Warwick gibbet, still lying, still un-
repentant, still denying, in spite of the
countless proofs of guilt that from earth,
water and air had been drawn to cover
him with shame. I saw him also in the
dead of the night previous, when the grim
keepers were asleep, steal from his pill
low, throw himself on his knees, so sol
emn bent to God, and unite his thin, fet-
tered hands tn passionate prayer to the
Judge of ali, and l hoped that even at
that last moment he had found mercy.


Theseescenes again arose in my mind
as, after hours Of heavy rain, the sun
shone out just as the post-chaise swept
round turn in the road, past Newbold,
into Little Lawford. The light glittered
on the yellowing leaves of the lime trees,
and fiickered upon the wet gables of the
old house. 1t was a stately, melancholy
building, half Tudor, half classic. The
huge Elizabethan porch contrasted un-
pleasantly with the ugly square windows
of the Georgian era, that were rendered
more hideous by the picturesque oriels
that were here and there left There was
solid comfort about the stone mullions
that the old house had been so awkwardly
patched. Just to the right of the porch
there was an old Tudor window that es.
pecially struck my eye. 1t was overhune
with Virginian creeper, whose leaves
were already turning scarlet. The mo
ment l glanced at that window, a scene
of the old trial came again into my
thoughts. 1t was below that room that
the prisoner stood that April morning
and called, in his gay, thoughtless way, tc
his sister, to ask her if she was ready fol
ride before breakfast. She had just
been to her brothers room to give him
the fatal medicine, and had left him as
she thought, asleep This window opened
OH pdSSdSc UcIWctu uGT IOOIu duu Lud
of the murdered man, and she heard hel
brother call to her as she passed back
from one room to the other. 81 shall be
ready in a quarter of an hour" she called
from the window, upon which he went to
the stable, mounted his bay mare, which
was always ready saddled, and rode of
to the Wells. Five minutes after, the
sister returned to the brothers room, ant
found him in the agonies of death.


AS the post-chaise swept round tn,
drive to the front entrance, | observed OF
the right the dial court, of which l ha(
read, with the great iron gates leading in
to the garden. 1t was there the prisone
had stood the night he distilled the laure
water talking to two tenants who ha
come to see his sick brother. Stately a
the house was, guarded by its avenue G
lines, and girt with its broad gardens,
could not help fancying that curse sti
rested upon it. There was malign, ur
happy look about it that weighed on m
too active imagination, SO that a curiou
presentiment of some impending ev
came over me as the great bell, dragge
from its socket, gave forth clamorous
jangling clang that seemed to ech
through endless passages with a querr
1ous clamor that ] thought would neve
cease


The dinner was dull Lady Lawfort
whom I had found so delightful, s
charming, SO vivacious at Paris, SCENE
oppressed with the social difficulties {
her county position, and to be unequal /
the task OF entertaining alone gatherin
OF such equal pomposities. Some seer,
trouble, some sorrow seemed to have fla
len upon her. She had an absent mannt
and often relapsed into embarrassing s
lences The local doctor, the local solic
tor, the rector, two or three old maid
and some shy, country Squires' daug
tiers, were all that she had to amuse, b
still she failed to amuse them. The Me
had been long way of, and my husba1