" DID JUNIUS COMMIT SUICIDE ? "
[To THE EDITOR OF THE "SPECTATOR."] Sin,—There is an interesting paper in Blackwood of March, 1895, entitled "Did Junius Commit Suicide?" meaning, of course, the author of Junius's Letters, Lord Lyttleton, "the wicked Lord Lyttleton," as he was called at the time. Doubts seem to have arisen both as to the manner of his death and the place where it occurred. Some people seem to believe that he died by his own hand, but I think that could hardly be, and it may interest some of your readers if I relate a little bit of evidence which I often beard from my mother on the subject. I will begin by saying that I am now an old woman of sixty-eight, the youngest of a large family, and that my two eldest sisters were many years older than myself. When they were quite young girls they received music lessons from a certain old Mr. Russell, and it was from him that my mother heard what I am about to relate concerning Lord Lyttleton. I will try to tell it in the same way Mr. Russell told it to my mother, and she repeated it to us ; he was then between sixty and seventy. He said, " I was in the house at the time of Lord Lyttleton's death, which took place in his country house [in Epsom, I think, but I cannot recall the name my mother gave to the place]. Lord Lyttleton," Mr. Russell said, "was in the habit of coming down to it and bringing his friends, and I had been asked more than once, having some reputation as a musician, to come and amuse the company by playing to them in the evening. The day before, or the very day of his death, Lord Lyttleton arrived with some ladies and gentlemen, and I was summoned to perform to them in the music-room which opened into the drawing-room. I had been irritated when I went there before with the noise and loud talking while I was at the instrument, bat this evening it was worse than ever, and I heard them repeatedly say, ' We shall jockey the ghost, my lord ! We shall jockey the ghost !' At last, but later than usual, Lord Lyttleton sent to tell me I need play no longer, and I put up my music and went to the butler's pantry to have a sandwich and a glass of wine. While I was eating, Lord Lyttleton himself came in, looking dreadfully ill, and said to the butler, Mix me a strong glass of brandy and water and send it to my room.' He took no notice of me, and went away ; but before I finished my supper I heard a loud scream, and the sound of hasty footsteps ; but there was so much noise always there, that I thought little of it, but began my walk home. I had not, however, gone very far, before one of the servants passed me on horseback, riding very fast, and he called out as he went by, Lord Lyttleton is dead !' I heard after- wards that he died at exactly the time named by the appari- tion, though great pains had been taken to alter every clock and watch in the house, to prevent his knowing the real time, as the warning he had received had weighed much upon him, and he was then in a very bad state of health." Mr. Russell was a very young man at the time, and it was more than forty years afterwards that he spoke of the circumstance to my mother ; but he was certainly not likely to forget the events of such an evening, so much talked of and discussed by every one. Lord Lyttleton died in 1779.—I am, Sir, &c.,
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