“‘Hyde, Chief Justice: “How can you know the print of a left hand from the print of a right hand in such a case?”
“‘Witness: “My lord, it is hard to describe it, but if it please the honourable judge (i.e. the judge sitting on the bench beside the Chief Justice) to put his left hand on your left hand, you cannot possibly place your right hand in the same posture.”
“‘It being done, and appearing so, the defendants had time to make their defence, but gave no evidence to that purpose.
“‘The jury departing from the bar and returning, acquitted Okeman and found the other three guilty; who, being severally demanded why judgment should not be pronounced, sayd nothing, but each of them said, “I did not do it.” “I did not do it.” Judgment was made and the grandmother and the husband executed, but the aunt had the privilege to be spared execution, being with child. I enquired if they confessed anything at execution, but did not as I was told.’
“Thus far the serjeant, afterwards Sir John Mainard, a person of great note and judgment in the law. The paper, of which this is a copy, was found amongst his papers since his death (1690) fair written with his own hand. Mr Hunt of the Temple took a copy of it, gave it me, which I have hereby transcribed.—H. S.”
It has been asserted by some writers that the vampire is not to be found in Indian lore and legend, and an attempt has been made to connect this supposititious absence of the blood-sucking demon with the Brahminical and Buddhistic vegetarian and cremation customs. The Indian belief, however, in the existence of vampire spectres is as prevalent as it is in any other country, although the folk-lore and legends concerning them may, perhaps, be more scarce.
Fornari, in his History of Sorcerers, relates the following story: “In the beginning of the fifteenth century there lived at Bagdad an aged merchant who had grown wealthy in his business and who had an only son to whom he was tenderly attached. He resolved to marry him to the daughter of another merchant, a girl of considerable fortune, but without any personal attractions. Abul-Hassan, the merchant’s son, on being shown the portrait of the lady, requested his father to delay the marriage till he could reconcile his mind to it. Instead, however, of doing this he fell in love with another girl, the daughter of a sage, and he gave his father no peace till he consented to the marriage with the object of his affections. The old man stood out as long as he could, but finding that his son was bent on acquiring the hand of the fair Nadilla, and was equally resolute not to accept the rich and ugly lady, he did what most fathers under such circumstances would do—he acquiesced.
“The wedding took place with great pomp and ceremony, and a happy honeymoon ensued, which might have been happier but for one little circumstance which led to very serious consequences.
“Abul-Hassan noticed that his bride quitted the nuptial couch as soon as she thought her husband was asleep, and did not return to it till an hour before dawn.
“Filled with curiosity, Hassan one night, feigning sleep, saw his wife rise and leave the room. He rose, followed cautiously, and saw her enter the cemetery. By the straggling moonbeams he saw her go into a tomb: he stepped in after her.