A STRANGE AND DREADFUL STORY.

Dunstan Times, Issue 698, 3 September 1875, Page 4

A STRANGE AND DREADFUL STORY.

Mr Charles Greville in his Memoirs, a singularly distressing and ro--tnantic story, which was told to Moore, the poet, by Dr Philip Orampton, the Surgeon-General. “ Some years ago,” said Orampton, “ I was present ufc a duel that was fought between a young man of the name of MacloughHn and another Irishman. Macloughlin was desperately wounded; his seconds ran up to him, and thought to console him with the intelligence that his antagonist had also fallen. He only replied, ‘ I am sorry for it, if he is suffering as much as I do now. I was struck by the good feeling evinced in this reply, and took an interest in the fate of the young man. He recovered, and a few years afterwards I heard that he had been arrested on suspicion of having murdered las father-in-law. his mothers second husband. He was tried, and found i guilty chiefly on the evidence of a ) soldier who happened to bo passing in the middle of the night near the house

iu which the murder was committed. Attracted by a light which gleamed through the lower part of the window, he nppi'oached it, and, through an op ning between the shutter and the frame, was able to look into the room. There he saw a man in the act of lifting a dead body from the floor,,while his hands and clothes were stained wth blood. He gave information. Macloughlin and his mother were apprehended ; and the former having been identified by the soldier, was found guilty. There was no evidence against the woman, and she was acquitted. Macloughlin conducted himself with great calmness, hut never acknowledged that he was guilty. The morning of his execution he had an interview with his mother, and when they parted, he was heard to say, ‘ Mother, may God forgive you !’ Several years afterwards, I one day received a letter from a lady, an old acquaintance, entreating that I would go to the assistance of a Catholic priest who was lying dangerously ill at her house. Being unable to leave Dublin, I wrote to say that the case seemed hopeless, bub I should recommend certain lenitives, for which I added a rrescription. The priest died, and shortly after his death the lady confided to me an extraordinary and dreadful story. In moments of agony and doubt, he had revealed a secret imparted to him in confession. He had received the dying confession of Macloughlin, who, as it turned out, was not the murderer of his father-in-law, hut had died to save the life and honor of his mother, by whom the crime had really been committed. She was a woman of vioh nt nassions ; she had quarrelled with her husband, and after throwing him from the bed, hni despatched him by repeated blows. When she found he was dead, she was srized with terror, and hastening to the apartment of her son, called him to witness the shocking spectacle, and to save her from the consequences of her crime. It was at the moment when he was lifting the body, and preparing to remove the hloodv evidence of his mother’s guilt that the soldier passed by and saw him in the performance of his dreadful task. To the priest alone he acknowledged the truth, but his last words s o his mother were now explained.” Greville adds. “ the story struck us all,” and Sir James Macintosh said, “ it was enough to furnish materials for a novel.”