The Tapestried Chamber, and Death of the Laird's JockScott, Walter
General
The Tapestried Chamber, and Death of the Laird's Jock
Scott, Walter
Ghost stories; Scotland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
“But I was roused by the castle clock striking one, so loud that it
seemed as if it were in the very room. It was some time before I dared
open my eyes, lest they should again encounter the horrible spectacle.
When, however, I summoned courage to look up, she was no longer visible.
My first idea was to pull my bell, wake the servants, and remove to a
garret or a hay-loft, to be ensured against a second visitation. Nay, I
will confess the truth that my resolution was altered, not by the shame
of exposing myself, but by the fear that, as the bell-cord hung by
the chimney, I might, in making my way to it, be again crossed by the
fiendish hag, who, I figured to myself, might be still lurking about
some corner of the apartment.
“I will not pretend to describe what hot and cold fever-fits tormented
me for the rest of the night, through broken sleep, weary vigils,
and that dubious state which forms the neutral ground between them. A
hundred terrible objects appeared to haunt me; but there was the great
difference betwixt the vision which I have described, and those which
followed, that I knew the last to be deceptions of my own fancy and
over-excited nerves.
“Day at last appeared, and I rose from my bed ill in health and
humiliated in mind. I was ashamed of myself as a man and a soldier,
and still more so at feeling my own extreme desire to escape from the
haunted apartment, which, however, conquered all other considerations;
so that, huddling on my clothes with the most careless haste, I made my
escape from your lordship’s mansion, to seek in the open air some relief
to my nervous system, shaken as it was by this horrible rencounter with
a visitant, for such I must believe her, from the other world. Your
lordship has now heard the cause of my discomposure, and of my sudden
desire to leave your hospitable castle. In other places I trust we may
often meet, but God protect me from ever spending a second night under
that roof!”
Strange as the General’s tale was, he spoke with such a deep air of
conviction that it cut short all the usual commentaries which are made
on such stories. Lord Woodville never once asked him if he was sure he
did not dream of the apparition, or suggested any of the possibilities
by which it is fashionable to explain supernatural appearances as
wild vagaries of the fancy, or deceptions of the optic nerves, On the
contrary, he seemed deeply impressed with the truth and reality of
what he had heard; and, after a considerable pause regretted, with much
appearance of sincerity, that his early friend should in his house have
suffered so severely.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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