The following narrative is given from the pen, so far as memory
permits, in the same character in which it was presented to the
author's ear; nor has he claim to further praise, or to be more
deeply censured, than in proportion to the good or bad judgment
which he has employed in selecting his materials, as he has
studiously avoided any attempt at ornament which might interfere
with the simplicity of the tale.

At the same time, it must be admitted that the particular class
of stories which turns on the marvellous possesses a stronger
influence when told than when committed to print. The volume
taken up at noonday, though rehearsing the same incidents,
conveys a much more feeble impression than is achieved by the
voice of the speaker on a circle of fireside auditors, who hang
upon the narrative as the narrator details the minute incidents
which serve to give it authenticity, and lowers his voice with an
affectation of mystery while he approaches the fearful and
wonderful part. It was with such advantages that the present
writer heard the following events related, more than twenty years
since, by the celebrated Miss Seward of Litchfield, who, to her
numerous accomplishments, added, in a remarkable degree, the
power of narrative in private conversation. In its present form
the tale must necessarily lose all the interest which was
attached to it by the flexible voice and intelligent features of
the gifted narrator. Yet still, read aloud to an undoubting
audience by the doubtful light of the closing evening, or in
silence by a decaying taper, and amidst the solitude of a half-
lighted apartment, it may redeem its character as a good ghost
story. Miss Seward always affirmed that she had derived her
information from an authentic source, although she suppressed the