of the park, and at the other end is another château, called the Belvedere; both are ducal residences, and an avenue runs from the one palace to the other. Opposite this avenue is the Russian chapel or Greek church—the present Dowager Duchess being a sister of the Emperor Nicholas—and in front of this chapel a sentinel is always posted.
"The Grand Duke, Charles Frederick, father of the present sovereign, was, at the period I allude to, residing at the Belvedere not well in health, but by no means alarmingly ill, for had that been the case he would have been brought into Weimar, where etiquette requires that the sovereign should make his first and last appearance in this world—there he must be born, and there die, if possible.
"One night the sentinel, who was standing at the entrance of the Russian chapel, was surprised to see, in the far distance, a long procession winding its way down the avenue from the Belvedere. As there was no stir in the town, for the night was far advanced, and as he had not heard of any solemnity in preparation, the man stared at it in mute wonder, but his amazement was redoubled when it approached near enough for him to distinguish the individual objects to perceive that it was a State funeral, accompanied by the royal mourners, and all the pomp usual at these ceremonies; the velvet pall bore the initials and arms of the duke, and following the bier was his favourite and well known horse, led by one of his attendants. Slowly and mournfully the procession moved on till it reached the chapel; the doors opened to admit the cortege; it passed in; and as the doors closed on this mysterious vision the soldier fell to the ground, where he was found in a state of insensibility when the guard was relieved.
"Of course, nobody believed his story; he was placed under arrest, severely punished, and had a nervous fever that brought him to the brink of the grave.
"I was there when this happened, said Mademoiselle G., and it was the talk of the town; almost everybody laughed at him; but five days afterwards the Duke fell suddenly ill, and was found to be in so dangerous a state, that the physicians forbade his being removed into the town. He finally died at the Belvedere, and was buried in the Russian chapel, exactly in the manner pourtrayed by the shadowy forms seen by the sentinel, and there buried."
We all agreed that these rehearsals, if we may so call them, are amongst the most perplexing of these very perplexing phenomena; a very curious case of this description will be found in one of the letters inserted in the Appendix.
"My sister-in-law, Lady S.," said Lady R., "Told me, the other day, that during her late residence in St. Petersburg, she was intimately acquainted with a Prussian lady of high rank, to whom the following strange events occurred, an account of which she herself gave to my sister. This Prussian lady was sitting one morning in her boudoir, when she heard a rustling sound in the ante-room, which was divided by a portière from the boudoir. The sound continuing, she rose and drew aside the curtain to ascertain the cause, when, to her surprise, she saw a very pale man, in a Chasseur's uniform, standing in the middle of the room. She was about to speak to him, and inquire what he was doing there, when he retreated towards the window and vanished. Greatly alarmed, she sought her husband, and related what had occurred; but he laughed at her, and desired her not to expose herself to ridicule by talking of it. Some days afterwards, whilst in the boudoir, she heard the same rustling noise near her, and on looking up, she saw the figure of the Chasseur suspended in the air between the ceiling and the floor, with his legs dangling in the air. A scream brought her husband, who was in the adjoining room, and he saw the figure as well as herself. Nevertheless, the fear of ridicule kept them silent; but some time afterwards, when they had a party, one of the company exclaimed, 'Good Heavens! This, I remember, is the very room that unfortunate Chasseurs hung himself in!' And then they learned that the house had been previously occupied by the Danish minister, and that a Chasseur in his service had, from some cause or other, committed suicide."
"I don't know whether dreams are admissible," said Miss M.; "but the sort of occurrences just related appear to me to be little removed from waking dreams. I know two cases of extraordinary dreaming, the authenticity of which I can answer for, if you would like to hear them." We accepted gladly, and the lady began as follows:—
"My father was intimate with Mr. S.—whose name, perhaps, is known to you as the particular friend of Mr. Spencer Percival. This gentleman, Mr. S., when he was a young man, had one night a remarkable dream, that he could not in any way account for—the circumstances having no relation to any previous event, train of thought, or conversation whatever.
"He found himself, in his dream, on horseback, in a very extensive forest; he was alone, evening was drawing on, and he sought some place where he could pass the night. After riding a little farther, he espied an inn; he rode up to it and alighted, asking if they could give him lodging for the night, and stabling for his horse. They said 'yes,' and conducted him to an upper chamber. He ordered some refreshments, when it occurred to him that he should like to see how his horse was faring; and he descended, in order to find his way to the stables; in doing so, he got a glimpse of some very ill-looking men in a side chamber, who seemed in close conference; moreover, he thought he saw weapons lying on the table, and there were other circumstances which I do not precisely remember, the effect of which was to create alarm, and lead him to suspect he had fallen into a repaire de voleurs.
"He saw his horse rubbed down and fed, and then re-ascended to take his refreshment; betraying no suspicion of evil, but secretly resolved on flight. After his supper, he went down again, stood at the door, and pretended to stroll about. When he saw an opportunity, he went round to the stable, saddled his horse, and cautiously rode away. But he had not gone far, when he heard the tramp of horses' feet behind him, and from the pace they came, he felt sure he was pursued. He urged his horse forward, but the animal was not fresh—he had done his day's work already, and the pursuers were gaining on him, when he saw he was approaching a spot where two roads met. Which of the two should he follow? He had nothing to guide him in his choice, and his life probably depended on his decision! Suddenly, a voice whispered in his ear, 'Take the right!' He did so, and shortly reached a house where he obtained shelter and protection.
"When he awoke, the circumstances of his dream were so vividly impressed on his mind, that he could hardly believe the thing had not actually happened. He related it to his friends; and, for some days, thought a good deal of it; but he was just entering into active life, and the impression soon faded before the varied interests that absorbed him; and the strange dream was entirely forgotten.
"Many years afterwards, when he had reached middle age, he was travelling in Germany, and in the course of an excursion he was making to see the country, he had occasion to cross a part of the Schwarzwald—the Black Forest. He was on horseback and alone; he reached an inn, the aspect of which he fancied was familiar to him. Here he thought he might conveniently pass the night; so he alighted, ordered his supper, and then went to see his horse fed. On further acquaintance with the place, he did not like the look of it, and he saw suspicious-looking men hanging about. He resolved to seek another resting-place; and leaving some money on the table to pay for what he had had, he went down stairs, and after lounging about a little, strolled to the stable, saddled his horse, and rode off as quietly as he could. But he was missed and pursued, he heard the tramp of the horses as they gained upon him. At this critical moment, he saw he was approaching a place where the roads divided; his life depended on which of the two he should take; suddenly, and strange to say, though he had misty recollections of the scene, now for the first time, the dream of his youth clearly and vividly recurred to him. He remembered the voice that whispered, 'Take the right!' He obeyed the hint, and his pursuers soon gave up the chase. He found a château about half-a-mile from the turning; the owner of which hospitably received him. His host said there had been for some time unpleasant suspicions with regard to the inn in question; and that, if he had taken the left hand road, he would have been quite at their mercy."
This very curious dream reminded us of that of Dr. W., which I have related in the "Night Side of Nature;" who in the same manner was saved from the attack of an infuriated bull, in his dream, having been shown where to fly for safety; but the case is less remarkable than
