Volume II Part 37 (1/2)
Sunset was near as she approached the cliff. She paused where the chasm opened out its deep vista upon the waters. They were now sparkling in the crimson flush from a sky more than usually brilliant.
Both sky and ocean were blent in one; the purple beam ran out so pure along the waves, that every billow might now be seen, every path and furrow of the deep.
Adeline climbed over the rail. She stood on that extreme verge, so fearful and abrupt that it might have rendered dizzy a stouter head than her own.
”This night are we married, Mortimer. The _ring_ and the _cliff_!”
The ring at this moment shot forth a tremulous brightness; probably from partic.i.p.ation with the glowing hues by which it was surrounded.
”The genii of that ring--said he not so?--they will bear me to him.
Our couch is decked, and the bridal hymn----Hark!”
It was only the sound from some pa.s.sing skiff that crept along the waters, but Adeline thought she heard the voice of her lover.
”He calls me; when will he return?”
She looked anxiously on the ring, as though expecting a reply; but she saw its bright hues diminish, and gradually grow dim in the dull grey light which displaced the gaudy sunset.
”Oh, why art thou gone so soon?” Her heart seemed full, as though in the very agony of separation.
”I must away. His bark is on the deep; and he will not return.”
She buried her head in her lap, and wept. But suddenly she started up; she looked on the distant wave as though she beheld some object approaching. She again climbed upon the rail, and gazed eagerly through the twilight on the billows, now foaming back in triumph with the returning tide. Her features were yet beautiful, though wasted by disease; and as she gazed, a smile, rapturous and bright, pa.s.sed over, like a sunbeam on the dark billows. She waved her hand.
”I have waited for thee. Bear me hence. Haste! Oh, haste! They are here.”
She listened. Her countenance grew more pale and agitated. Voices were heard, and footsteps evidently approaching. She recognised the hated sound of her pursuers. Agony and despair were thy last ministers, unhappy victim! She wrapped her cloak closer to her form, and, with one wild and appalling shriek, leaped that dizzy height, by the foot of which her mangled remains were shortly discovered.
In the family of ---- is a ring, taken from the finger of a female ancestor of the house who leaped from ”_The Lady's Cliff_,”--for such it continues to be called; and it is still said to be haunted by her spirit. The ring was found uninjured, save by a crack through the rim, where it seems bent by a sudden stroke. Superst.i.tion attaches strange stories to this relic. True enough, at times it appears almost gifted with intelligence; though perhaps the answer, intimated by the brilliancy or dimness of the stone, may often be construed according to the thoughts or wishes of the inquirer. It is kept in a little ivory box, and preserved with great care. It is said there never was a question propounded to this oracle--if done with a proper spirit, with a due and devout reverence, and a reliance on its wondrous efficacy--but the ring, by its brightness or its gloom, shadowed forth the good or evil destiny of the querent.
Mortimer recovered. In this village, many years afterwards, lived an old man, whose daily walk was to the cliff. From that height he would gaze until the last hue of evening died upon the waves. He then returned, with a vacant and down-cast look, sad and solitary, to his dwelling. He was buried there in the churchyard; and a plain-looking stone, with the initials C. M., still marks the spot called THE STRANGER'S GRAVE.
[16] Many a fertile acre has been covered with sand and rendered useless which might have been preserved by sowing on its confines the seeds of this plant. The Dutch have profited by a knowledge of its efficacy; Queen Elizabeth prohibited the extirpation of it. As soon as it takes root a sandhill gathers round it; so that wherever it is planted it gives a peculiar character to the coast. This gra.s.s or reed is manufactured into mats, baskets, &c. A legislative enactment, however, in 1742, was issued for its preservation. The Scottish Parliament likewise protected it, together with _Elymus arenarius_, or upright sea-lyme gra.s.s.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE DEAD MAN'S HAND]
THE DEAD MAN'S HAND.
”Yet stay, fair lady, turn again, And dry those pearly tears; For see, beneath this gown of grey, Thy own true love appears.”
--PERCY'S _Reliques_.
Bryn Hall, the scene or rather the solution, of the following tradition, is now demolished. It was the ancient seat of the Gerards, by virtue of marriage between William Gerard, about the year 1280, with the daughter and sole heir of Peter de Bryn. It was built in a quadrangular form with a s.p.a.cious courtyard, to which admittance was gained by a narrow bridge over the moat surrounding the whole fabric. The gatehouse was secured by ma.s.sy doors well studded with iron; a curiously-carved porch led to the great hall, where, on the chimney-piece, were displayed the arms of England, not older than the reign of James I. A railed gallery ran along one side, on which persons might stand to observe the entertainments below without mingling in them. It was supported by double pillars in front of pilasters, forming arches between, profusely ornamented by rich carved work. Most of these decorations, together with the carved wainscots, were taken to embellish Garswood Hall, near Ashton, a few miles distant, where the family resided after their removal.
In the windows were some armorial bearings of painted gla.s.s, the first quarterings beginning with the Leighs of Lyme, instead of Gerard or Bryn, as might have been expected. Here was a Roman Catholic chapel, and a priest who continued long after the family had departed, having in his custody the hand mentioned in the following pages. It is still kept by them, or rather by the priest, who now resides at Garswood. Preserved with great care in a white silk bag, it is still resorted to by many diseased persons, and wonderful cures are said to have been wrought by this saintly relic. It is called the Hand of Father Arrowsmith--a priest who is said to have been put to death at Lancaster for his religion in the time of William III. When about to suffer, he desired his spiritual attendant to cut off his right hand, which should then have the power to work miraculous cures on those who had faith to believe in its efficacy. Not many years ago, a female, sick of the smallpox, had it lying in bed with her every night for six weeks, in order to effect her recovery, which took place. A poor lad, living in Withy Grove, Manchester, afflicted with scrofulous sores, was rubbed with it; and though it has been said he was miraculously restored, yet, upon inquiry, the a.s.sertion was found incorrect, inasmuch as he died in about a fortnight after the operation.
Not less devoid of truth is the tradition that Arrowsmith was hanged for witnessing a good confession. Having been found guilty of a misdemeanour, in all probability this story of his martyrdom and miraculous attestation to the truth of the cause for which he suffered was contrived for the purpose of preventing the scandal that might have come upon the Church through the delinquency of an unworthy member.