A RELATION OF THE APPARITION Of Mrs. VEAL.

THIS thing is ſo rare in all its Circumſtances, and on ſo good Authority, that my Reading and Converſation has not given me any thing like it; it is fit to gratifie the moſt Ingenious and Serious Enquirer. Mrs. Bargrave is the Perſon to whom Mrs. Veal Appeared after her Death; ſhe is my Intimate Friend, and I can avouch for her Reputation, for theſe laſt fifteen or ſixteen Years, on my own Knowledge; and I can confirm the Good Character ſhe had from her Youth, to the time of my Acquaintance. Tho' ſince this Relation, ſhe is Calumniated by ſome People, that are Friends to the Brother of Mrs. Veal who Ap⯑peared; who think the Relation of this Appearance to be a Reflecti⯑on, and endeavour what they can to Blaſt Mrs. Bargrave's Reputa⯑tion; and to Laugh the Story out of Countenance▪ But the Circum⯑ſtances thereof, and the Chearful Diſpoſition of Mrs. Bargrave, notwithſtanding the unheard of ill Uſage of a very Wicked Husband, there is not the leaſt ſign of Dejection in her Face; nor did I ever hear her let fall a Deſponding or Murmuring Expreſſion; nay, not when actually under her Husbands Barbarity; which I have been Witneſs to, and ſeveral other Perſons of undoubted Reputation.

[2]Now you muſt know, that Mrs. Veal was a Maiden Gentlewoman of about 30 Years of Age, and for ſome Years laſt paſt, had been troubled with Fits; which were perceived coming on her, by her going off from her Diſcourſe very abruptly, to ſome impertinence: She was maintain'd by an only Brother, and kept his Houſe in Dover. She was a very Pious Woman, and her Brother a very Sober Man to all appearance: But now he does all he can to Null or Quaſh the Story. Mrs. Veal was intimately acquainted with Mrs. Bargrave from her Childhood. Mrs Veals Circumſtances were then Mean; her Fa⯑ther did not take care of his Children as he ought, ſo that they were expoſed to Hardſhips: And Mrs. Bargrave in thoſe days, had as Unkind a Father, tho' She wanted for neither Food nor Cloathing, whilſt Mrs. Veal wanted for both: So that it was in the Power of Mrs. Bargrave to be very much her Friend in ſeveral Inſtances, which mightily endear'd Mrs Veal; inſomuch that ſhe would often ſay, Mrs. Bargrave you are not only the Beſt, but the only Friend I have in the World; and no Circumſtances of Life, ſhall ever diſſolve my Friendſhip. They would often Condole each others adverſe Fortune, and read together, Drelincourt upon Death, and other good Books: And ſo like two Chriſtian Friends, they comforted each other under their Sorrow.

Sometime after, Mr. Veals Friends got him a Place in the Cuſtom-Houſe at Dover, which occaſioned Mrs Veal by little and little, to fall off from her Intimacy with Mrs. Bargrave, tho' there was never any ſuch thing as a Quarrel; but an Indifferency came on by degrees, till at laſt Mrs. Bargrave had not ſeen her in two Years and a half; tho' above a Twelve Month of the time, Mrs. Bargrave had been abſent from Dover, and this laſt half Year, has been in Canterbury about two Months of the time, dwelling in a Houſe of her own.

In this Houſe, on the Eighth of September laſt, viz 1705. She was ſitting alone in the Forenoon, thinking over her Unfortunate Life, and arguing her ſelf into a due Reſignation to Providence, tho' her condition ſeem'd hard. And ſaid ſhe, I have been provided for hither⯑to, and doubt not but I ſhall be ſtill, and am well ſatisfied, that my Af⯑flictions ſhall end, when it is moſt fit for me: And then took up her Sewing-Work, which ſhe had no ſooner done, but ſhe hears a Knock⯑ing at the Door; ſhe went to ſee who it was there, and this prov'd to be Mrs. Veal, her Old Friend, who was in a Riding Habit: At that Moment of Time, the Clock ſtruck Twelve at Noon.

[3]Madam ſays Mrs. Bargrave, I am ſurprized to ſee you, you have been ſo long a ſtranger, but told her, ſhe was glad to ſee her and offer'd to Salute her, which Mrs. Veal complyed with, till their Lips almoſt touched, and then Mrs Veal drew her hand croſs her own Eyes, and ſaid, I am not very well, and ſo waved it. She told Mrs. Bargrave, ſhe was going a Journey, and had a great mind to ſee her firſt: But ſays Mrs. Bargrave, how came you to take a Journey alone? I am amaz'd at it, becauſe I know you have ſo fond a Brother. O! ſays Mrs. Veal, I gave my Brother the Slip, and came away, becauſe I had ſo great a Mind to ſee you before I took my Journy. So Mrs. Bargrave went in with her, into another Room within the firſt, and Mrs. Veal ſat her ſelf down in an Elbow-chair, in which Mrs. Bargrave was ſitting when ſhe heard Mrs. Veal Knock. Then ſays Mrs. Veal, My Dear Friend, I am come to renew our Old Friendſhip again, and to beg your Pardon for my breach of it, and if you can forgive me you are one of the beſt of Women. O! ſays Mrs. Bar⯑grave, don't mention ſuch a thing, I have not had an uneaſie thought about it, I can eaſily forgive it. What did you think of me ſays Mrs. Veal? Says Mrs. Bargrave, I thought you were like the reſt of the World, and that Proſperity had made you forget your ſelf and me. Then Mrs. Veal reminded Mrs. Bargrave of the many Friendly Offices ſhe did her in former Days, and much of the Converſation they had with each other in the time of their Adverſity; what Books they Read, and what Comfort in particular they received from Drelincourt's, Book of Death, which was the beſt ſhe ſaid on that Sub⯑ject, was ever Wrote. She alſo mentioned Dr. Sherlock, and two Dutch Books which were Tranſlated, Wrote upon Death, and ſeveral others: But Drelincourt ſhe ſaid, had the cleareſt Notions of Death, and of the Future State, of any who have handled that Subject. Then ſhe asked Mrs. Bargrave, whether ſhe had Drelincourt; ſhe ſaid yes. Says Mrs. Veal fetch it, and ſo Mrs. Bargrave goes up Stairs, and brings it down. Says Mrs. Veal, Dear Mrs. Bargrave, If the Eyes of our Faith were as open as the Eyes of our Body, we ſhould ſee numbers of Angels about us for our Guard: The Notions we have of Heaven now, are nothing like what it is, as Drelincourt ſays. Therefore be comforted under your Afflictions, and believe that the Almighty has a particular regard to you; and that your Afflictions are Marks of Gods Favour: And when they have done the buſineſs they were ſent for, they ſhall be removed from you. And believe me my Dear Friend, believe what I ſay to you, One Minute of future Happineſs will infinitely reward you for [4] all your Sufferings. For I can never believe, (and claps her Hand upon her Knee, with a great deal of Earneſtneſs, which indeed ran through all her Diſcourſe) that ever God will ſuffer you to ſpend all your Days in this Afflicted State: But be aſſured, that your Afflictions ſhall leave you, or you them in a ſhort time. She ſpake in that Pathetical and Hea⯑venly manner, that Mrs. Bargrave wept ſeveral times; ſhe was ſo deeply affected with it. Then Mrs. Veal mentioned Dr. Hornecks Aſcetick, at the end of which, he gives an account of the Lives of the Primitive Chriſtians. Their Pattern ſhe recommended to our Imitation; and ſaid, their Converſation was not like this of our Age. For now (ſays ſhe) there is nothing but frothy vain Diſcourſe, which is far different from theirs. Theirs was to Edification, and to Build one another up in the Faith: So that they were not as we are, nor are we as they are; but ſaid ſhe, We might do as they did. There was a Hearty Friendſhip among them, but where is it now to be found? Says Mrs. Bargrave, 'tis hard indeed to find a true Friend in theſe days. Says Mrs. Veal, Mr. Norris has a Fine Coppy of Verſes, call'd Friendſhip in Perfection, which I wonderfully admire, have you ſeen the Book ſays Mrs. Veal? No, ſays Mrs. Bargrave, but I have the Verſes of my own writing out. Have you, ſays Mrs. Veal, then fetch them; which ſhe did from above Stairs, and offer'd them to Mrs. Veal to read, who refuſed, and wav'd the thing, ſaying, holding down her Head would make it ake, and then deſired Mrs. Bargrave to read them to her, which ſhe did. As they were admiring Friendſhip, Mrs. Veal ſaid, Dear Mrs. Bar⯑grave, I ſhall love you for ever: In the Verſes, there is twice uſed the Word Elyſium. Ah! ſays Mrs. Veal, Theſe Poets have ſuch Names for Heaven. She would often draw her Hand croſs her own Eyes; and ſay, Mrs. Bargrave Don't you think I am mightily impaired by my Fits? No, ſays Mrs. Bargrave, I think you look as well as ever I knew you.

After all this diſcourſe, which the Apparition put in Words much finer than Mrs. Bargrave ſaid ſhe could pretend to, and was much more than ſhe can remember (for it cannot be thought, that an hour and three quarters Converſation could all be retained, tho' the main of it, ſhe thinks ſhe does.) She ſaid to Mrs. Bar⯑grave, ſhe would have her write a Letter to her Brother, and tell him, ſhe would have him give Rings to ſuch and ſuch; and that there was a Purſe of Gold in her Cabinet, and that ſhe would have Two Broad Pieces given to her Couſin Watſon. Talking at this Rate, Mrs. Bargrave thought that a Fit was coming upon her, and ſo placed [5] her ſelf in a Chair, juſt before her Knees, to keep her from fal⯑ling to the Ground, if her Fits ſhould occaſion it; for the Elbow Chair ſhe thought would keep her from falling on either ſide. And to divert Mrs. Veal as ſhe thought, ſhe took hold of her Gown Sleeve ſeveral times, and commended it. Mrs. Veal told her, it was a Scower'd Silk, and newly made up. But for all this Mrs. Veal perſiſted in her Requeſt, and told Mrs. Bargrave ſhe muſt not deny her: and ſhe would have her tell her Brother all their Converſation, when ſhe had an opportunity. Dear Mrs. Veal, ſays Mrs. Bargrave, this ſeems ſo impertinent, that I cannot tell how to comply with it; and what a mortifying Story will our Converſation be to a Young Gentleman? Well, ſays Mrs. Veal, I muſt not be deny'd. Why, ſays Mrs. Bargrave, 'tis much better methinks to do it your ſelf, No, ſays Mrs. Veal; tho' it ſeems im⯑pertinent to you now, you will ſee more reaſon for it hereafter. Mrs. Bargrave then to ſatisfie her importunity, was going to fetch a Pen and Ink; but Mrs. Veal ſaid, let it alone now, and do it when I am gone; but you muſt be ſure to do it: which was one of the laſt things ſhe enjoin'd her at parting; and ſo ſhe promiſed her.

Then Mrs. Veal asked for Mrs. Bargraves Daughter; ſhe ſaid ſhe was not at home; but if you have a mind to ſee her ſays Mrs. Bargrave, I'le ſend for her. Do, ſays Mrs. Veal. On which ſhe left her, and went to a Neighbours, to ſend for her; and by the Time Mrs. Bargrave was returning, Mrs. Veal was got without the Door in the Street, in the face of the Beaſt-Market on a Saturday (which is Market day) and ſtood ready to part, as ſoon as Mrs. Bargrave came to her. She askt her, why ſhe was in ſuch haſt? ſhe ſaid, ſhe muſt be going; tho' perhaps ſhe might not go her journey till Monday. And told Mrs. Bargrave ſhe hoped ſhe ſhould ſee her again, at her Couſin Watſons before ſhe went whether ſhe was a going. Then ſhe ſaid, ſhe would not take her Leave of her, and walk'd from Mrs. Bargrave in her view, till a turning interrupted the ſight of her, which was three quarters after One in the Afternoon.

Mrs. Veal Dyed the 7th of September at 12 a Clock at Noon, of her Fits, and had not above four hours Senſes before her Death, in which time ſhe received the Sacrament. The next day after Mrs. Veals appearing being Sunday, Mrs. Bargrave was mightily indiſpoſed with a Cold, and a Sore Throat, that ſhe could not [6] go out that day: but on Monday morning ſhe ſends a perſon to Captain Watſons to know if Mrs. Veal were there. They won⯑dered at Mrs. Bargraves enquiry, and ſent her Word, that ſhe was not there, nor was expected. At this Anſwer Mrs. Bargrave told the Maid ſhe had certainly miſtook the Name, or made ſome blunder. And tho' ſhe was ill, ſh [...] put on her Hood, and went her ſelf to Captain Watſons, tho' ſhe knew none of the Family, to ſee if Mrs. Veal was there or not. They ſaid, they wonder⯑ed at her asking, for that ſhe had not been in Town; they were ſure, if ſhe had, ſhe would have been there. Says Mrs. Bargrave, I am ſure ſhe was with me on Saturday almoſt two hours. They ſaid it was impoſſible, for they muſt have ſeen her if ſhe had. In comes Captain Watſon, while they were in Diſpute, and ſaid that Mrs. Veal was certainly Dead, and her Eſcocheons were ma⯑king. This ſtrangely ſurpriſed Mrs. Bargrave, who went to the Perſon immediately who had the care of them, and found it true. Then ſhe related the whole Story to Captain Watſons Family, and what Gown ſhe had on, and how ſtriped. And that Mrs. Veal told her it was Scowred. Then Mrs. Watſon cry'd out, you have ſeen her indeed, for none knew but Mrs. Veal and my ſelf, that the Gown was Scowr'd; and Mrs Watſon own'd that ſhe deſcribed the Gown exactly; for, ſaid ſhe, I helpt her to make it up. This, Mrs. Watſon blaz'd all about the Town, and avouch'd the De⯑monſtration of the Truth of Mrs. Bargraves ſeeing Mrs. Veal's Apparition. And Captain Watſon carried two Gentlemen im⯑mediately to Mrs. Bargraves Houſe, to hear the Relation from her own Mouth. And then it ſpread ſo faſt, that Gentlemen and Perſons of Quality, the Judicious and Sceptical part of the World, flock't in upon her, which at laſt became ſuch a Task, that ſhe was forc'd to go out of the way. For they were in general, extreamly ſatisfyed of the truth of the thing; and plain⯑ly ſaw, that Mrs. Bargrave was no Hypochondriack, for ſhe al⯑ways appears with ſuch a chearful Air, and pleaſing Mien, that ſhe has gain'd the favor and eſteem of all the Gentry. And its thought a great favor if they can but get the Relation from her own Mouth. I ſhould have told you before, that Mrs. Veal told Mrs. Bargrave, that her Siſter and Brother in Law, were juſt come down from London to ſee her. Says Mrs. Bargrave, how came you to order matters ſo ſtrangely? it could not be helpt ſaid Mrs. Veal; and her Siſter and Brother did come to ſee her, and [7] entred the Town of Dover, juſt as Mrs. Veal was expiring. Mrs. Bargrave asked her, whether ſhe would not drink ſome Tea. Says Mrs. Veal, I do not care if I do: But I'le Warrant this Mad Fellow (meaning Mrs. Bargraves Husband,) has broke all your Trinckets. But, ſays Mrs. Bargrave, I'le get ſomething to Drink in for all that; but Mrs. Veal wav'd it, and ſaid, it is no matter, let it alone, and ſo it paſſed.

All the time I ſat with Mrs. Bargrave, which was ſome Hours, ſhe recollected freſh ſayings of Mrs. Veal. And one material thing more ſhe told Mrs. Bargrave, that Old Mr. Breton allowed Mrs. Veal Ten pounds a Year, which was a ſecret, and unknown to Mrs. Bar⯑grave, till Mrs. Veal told it her. Mrs. Bargrave never varies in her Story, which puzzles thoſe who doubt of the Truth, or are unwilling to believe it. A Servant in a Neighbours Yard adjoining to Mrs. Bargraves Houſe, heard her talking to ſome body, an hour of the Time Mrs. Veal was with her. Mrs. Bargrave went out to her next Neighbours the very Moment ſhe parted with Mrs. Veal, and told what Raviſhing Converſation ſhe had with an Old Friend, and told the whole of it. Drelincourt's Book of Death is, ſince this happened, Bought up ſtrangely. And it is to be obſerved, that notwithſtand⯑ing all this Trouble and Fatigue Mrs. Bargrave has undergone upon this Account, ſhe never took the value of a Farthing, nor ſuffer'd her Daughter to take any thing of any Body, and therefore can have no Intereſt in telling the Story.

But Mr. Veal does what he can to ſtifle the matter, and ſaid he would ſee Mrs. Bargrave; but yet it is certain matter fact, that he has been at Captain Watſons ſince the Death of his Siſter, and yet never went near Mrs. Bargrave; and ſome of his Friends report her to be a great Lyar, and that ſhe knew of Mr. Breton's Ten Pounds a Year. But the Perſon who pretends to ſay ſo, has the Reputation of a Notorious Lyar, among perſons which I know to be of undoubted Repute. Now Mr. Veal is more a Gentleman, than to ſay ſhe Lyes; but ſays, a bad Husband has Craz'd her. But ſhe needs only to preſent her ſelf, and it will effectually confute that Pretence. Mr. Veal ſays he ask'd his Siſter on her Death Bed, whether ſhe had a mind to diſpoſe of any thing, and ſhe ſaid, No. Now what the things which Mrs. Veals Apparition would have diſpoſed of, were ſo Trifling, and nothing of Juſtice aimed at in their diſpoſal, that the de⯑ſign of it appears to me to be only in order to make Mrs. [8] Bargrave, ſo to demonſtrate the Truth of her Appearance, as to ſatisfie the World of the Reality thereof, as to what ſhe had ſeen and heard: and to ſecure her Reputation among the Rea⯑ſonable and underſtanding part of Mankind. And then again, Mr. Veal owns that there was a Purſe of Gold; but it was not found in her Cabinet, but in a Comb-Box This looks impro⯑bable, for that Mrs. Watſon own'd that Mrs. Veal was ſo very careful of the Key of her Cabinet, that ſhe would truſt no Bo⯑dy, with it. And if ſo, no doubt ſhe would not truſt her Gold out of it. And Mrs. Veals often drawing her hand over her Eyes, and asking Mrs. Bargrave, whether her Fits had not impair'd her; looks to me, as if ſhe did it on purpoſe to remind Mrs. Bar⯑grave of her Fits, to prepare her not to think it ſtrange that ſhe ſhould put her upon Writing to her Brother to diſpoſe of Rings and Gold, which lookt ſo much like a dying Perſons Bequeſt; and it took accordingly with Mrs. Bargrave, as the effect of her Fits coming upon her; and was one of the many Inſtances of her Won⯑derful Love to her, and Care of her, that ſhe ſhould nor be affright⯑ed: which indeed appears in her whole management; particularly in her coming to her in the day time, waving the Salutation, and when ſhe was alone; and then the manner of her parting, to pre⯑vent a ſecond attempt to Salute her.

Now, why Mr. Veal ſhould think this Relation a Reflection, (as 'tis plain he does by his endeavouring to ſtifle it) I can't imagine, becauſe the Generality believe her to be a good Spirit, her Diſcourſe was ſo Heavenly. Her two great Errands were to comfort Mrs. Bargrave in her Affliction, and to ask her Forgiveneſs for her Breach of Friend⯑ſhip, and with a Pious Diſcourſe to encourage her. So that after all, to ſuppoſe that Mrs. Bargrave could Hatch ſuch an Invention as this from Friday-Noon, till Saturday-Noon, (ſuppoſing that ſhe knew of Mrs. Veals Death the very firſt Moment) without jumbling Cir⯑cumſtances, and without any Intereſt too; ſhe muſt be more Witty, Fortunate, and Wicked too, than any indifferent Perſon I dare ſay, will allow. I asked Mrs. Bargrave ſeveral times, If ſhe was ſure ſhe felt the Gown. She anſwered Modeſtly, if my Senſes be to be relied on, I am ſure of it. I asked her, If ſhe heard a Sound, when ſhe clapt her Hand upon her Knee: She ſaid, ſhe did not remember ſhe did: And ſhe ſaid, ſhe Appeared to be as much a Subſtance as I did, who talked with her. And I may ſaid ſhe, be as ſoon perſuaded that your Apparition is talking to me now, as that I did not really ſee her; for I was under no [9] manner of Fear, I received her as a Friend, and parted with her as ſuch. I would not, ſays ſhe, give one Farthing to make any one believe it, I have no Intereſt in it; nothing but trouble is entail'd upon me for a long time for ought that I know; and had it not come to Light by Accident, it would never have been made Publick But now ſhe ſays, ſhe will make her own Private Ʋſe of it, and keep her ſelf out of the way as much as ſhe can. And ſo ſhe has done ſince. She ſays, ſhe had a Gentleman who came thirty Miles to her to hear the Relation; and that ſhe had told it to a Room full of People at a time. Several particular Gentlemen have had the Story from Mrs Bargraves own Mouth.

This thing has very much affected me, and I am as well ſatisfied, as I am of the beſt grounded Matter of Fact. And why ſhould we diſpute Matter of Fact, becauſe we cannot ſolve things, of which we can have no certain or demonſtrative Notions, ſeems ſtrange to me: Mrs. Bargraves's Authority and Sincerity alone, would have been un⯑doubted in any other Caſe.