A Burning Handprint From Hell -A Lifelong Reminder

This incident is from an honorable priest and superior of a religious community. This priest had the particulars of the story from a close relation of the lady to whom it had happened. At the time of the writing, Christmas Day, 1859, this person was still living and was roughly forty years old, therefore no name is mentioned in the recording of this event to protect the persons identity.

The woman concerned in this story was living in London in the winter of 1847-1848. She was a widow, about twenty nine years old, quite rich and worldly. Among the young men who visited her there was young lord of bad conduct who courted her and of whom she eventually committed a variety of sins with. 

Late one night she was in bed reading a novel when one o'clock struck on the clock; she blew out her taper and was about to fall asleep when, to her great astonishment, she noticed strange glimmer of light coming from the door of the drawing-room, which spread by degrees into her chamber. Stupefied at first and not knowing what this meant, she began to get alarmed, when she saw the drawing-room door slowly open and the young lord, the partner of her disorders, enter the room. Before she had time to say a single word, he seized her by the left wrist, and with a hissing voice, said to her in English: "There is a Hell!”  The pain she suddenly felt in her arm was so great that she immediately passed out. 

When she came to again about a half an hour after she immediately rang for her chambermaid. The latter, on entering, noticed a strong smell of burning. Approaching her mistress who was frantic and could hardly speak she immediately noticed on her wrist a burn so deep that the bone was laid bare, and the flesh almost consumed. Moreover, she remarked that, from the door of the salon to the bed, and returning from the bed to that same door, the carpet bore the imprint of a man's steps, which had burned through the fibers. By the directions of her mistress, she opened the drawing-room door and there she found more tracks on the carpet. 

The following day, the unhappy lady learned, with a terror easily imagined, that on that very night, about one o'clock in the morning, her friend the lord had been found dead-drunk under the table, and that his servants had carried him to his room, and that he had died of alcohol poisoning in their arms. 

I do not know for certain, added the Priest-Superior, whether that terrible lesson converted the heart of that unfortunate lady, but what I do know is that she is still alive and that, to conceal from sight the traces of her ominous burn, she wears on the left wrist, like a bracelet, a wide gold band, which she does not take off day or night. I repeat it: I have all these details from her near relation, a serious Christian, in whose word I give the fullest belief. She states that this story is never spoken of, even in the family; and that she only confided it to me, suppressing every proper name. 

Notwithstanding the anonymity beneath which this apparition has been revealed and must be enveloped, it seems impossible, states a writer, to call into doubt the dreadful authenticity of the details.

 “Oh my Jesus; forgive us our sins. Save us from the fires of hell. Lead all souls into heaven, especially those most in need of Thy mercy”.

“When I see Jesus weep, my own heart is pierced with sorrow; I think of how by my sins I have added to the oppression in which Jesus suffered in the Garden. At that time Jesus saw all my sins, all my omissions, and He saw the place I should have occupied in Hell, if Thy Heart, oh Jesus, had not granted me forgiveness” –St Gemma Galgani