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Two stories by J.S. LeFanu
A Chapter in the History was first published in 1836.
The Murdered Cousin was first published in 1851.
Being a Tenth Extract from the Legacy of the Late Francis Purcell,
P.P. of Drumcoolagh
INTRODUCTION. In the following narrative, I have endeavoured to giveas nearly as possible the "ipsissima verba" of the valued friendfrom whom I received it, conscious that any aberration from her modeof telling the tale of her own life, would at once impair its accuracyand its effect. Would that, with her words, I could also bring beforeyou her animated gesture, her expressive countenance, the solemn andthrilling air and accent with which she related the dark passagesin her strange story; and, above all, that I could communicate theimpressive consciousness that the narrator had seen with her owneyes, and personally acted in the scenes which she described; theseaccompaniments, taken with the additional circumstance, that shewho told the tale was one far too deeply and sadly impressed withreligious principle, to misrepresent or fabricate what she repeated asfact, gave to the tale a depth of interest which the events recordedcould hardly, themselves, have produced. I became acquainted withthe lady from whose lips I heard this narrative, nearly twenty yearssince, and the story struck my fancy so much, that I committed itto paper while it was still fresh in my mind, and should its perusalafford you entertainment for a listless half hour, my labour shall nothave been bestowed in vain. I find that I have taken the story down asshe told it, in the first person, and, perhaps, this is as it shouldbe. She began as follows.
My maiden name was Richardson,[A] the designation of a family ofsome distinction in the county of Tyrone. I was the younger of twodaughters, and we were the only children. There was a difference inour ages of nearly six years, so that I did not, in my childhood,enjoy that close companionship which sisterhood, in othercircumstances, necessarily involves; and while I was still a child, mysister was married. The person upon whom she bestowed her hand, was aMr. Carew, a gentleman of property and consideration in the northof England. I remember well the eventful day of the wedding; thethronging carriages, the noisy menials, the loud laughter, the merryfaces, and the gay dresses. Such sights were then new to me, andharmonized ill with the sorrowful feelings with which I regarded theevent which was to separate me, as it turned out, for ever, from asister whose tenderness alone had hitherto more than supplied all thatI wanted in my mother's affection. The day soon arrived which was toremove the happy couple from Ashtown-house. The carriage stood at thehall-door, and my poor sister kissed me again, and again, telling methat I should see her soon. The carriage drove away, and I gazedafter it until my eyes filled with tears, and, returning slowly to mychamber, I wept more bitterly, and so, to speak more desolately, thanever I had done before. My father had never seemed to love, or totake an interest in me. He had desired a son, and I think he neverthoroughly forgave me my unfortunate sex. My having come into theworld at all as his child, he regarded as a kind of fraudulentintrusion, and, as his antipathy to me had