Wonderful or supernatural events are not so uncommon, rather they are
irregular in their incidence. Thus there may be not one marvel to speak
of in a century, and then often enough comes a plentiful crop of them;
monsters of all sorts swarm suddenly upon the earth, comets blaze in
the sky, eclipses frighten nature, meteors fall in rain, while mermaids
and sirens beguile, and sea-serpents engulf every passing ship, and
terrible cataclysms beset humanity.
But the strange event which I shall here relate came alone, unsupported,
without companions into a hostile world, and for that very reason
claimed little of the general attention of mankind. For the sudden
changing of Mrs. Tebrick into a vixen is an established fact which we
may attempt to account for as we will. Certainly it is in the
explanation of the fact, and the reconciling of it with our general
notions that we shall find most difficulty, and not in accepting for
true a story which is so fully proved, and that not by one witness but
by a dozen, all respectable, and with no possibility of collusion
between them.
But here I will confine myself to an exact narrative of the event and
all that followed on it. Yet I would not dissuade any of my readers from
attempting an explanation of this seeming miracle because up till now
none has been found which is entirely satisfactory. What adds to the
difficulty to my mind is that the metamorphosis occurred when Mrs.
Tebrick was a full-grown woman, and that it happened suddenly in so
short a space of time. The sprouting of a tail, the gradual extension of
hair all over the body, the slow change of the whole anatomy by a
process of growth, though it would have been monstrous, would not have
been so difficult to reconcile to our ordinary conceptions, particularly
had it happened in a young child.
But here we have something very different. A grown lady is changed
straightway into a fox. There is no explaining that away by any natural
philosophy. The materialism of our age will not help us here. It is
indeed a /miracle/; something from outside our world altogether; an
event which we would willingly accept if we were to meet it invested
with the authority of Divine Revelation in the scriptures, but which we
are not prepared to encounter almost in our time, happening in
Oxfordshire amongst our neighbours.
The only things which go any way towards an explanation of it are but
guesswork, and I give them more because I would not conceal anything,
than because I think they are of any worth.
Mrs. Tebrick's maiden name was certainly Fox, and it is possible that
such a miracle happening before, the family may have gained their name
as a /soubriquet/ on that account. They were an ancient family, and have
had their seat at Tangley Hall time out of mind. It is also true that
there was a half-tame fox once upon a time chained up at Tangley Hall in
the inner yard, and I have heard many speculative wiseacres in the
public-houses turn that to great account--though they could not but
admit that "there was never one there in Miss Silvia's time." At first I
was inclined to think that Silvia Fox, having once hunted when she was
a child of ten and having been blooded, might furnish more of an
explanation. It seems she took great fright or disgust at it, and
vomited after it was done. But now I do not see that it has much bearing
on the miracle itself, even though we know that after that she always
spoke of the "poor foxes" when a hunt was stirring and never rode to
hounds till after her marriage when her husband persuaded her to it.
She was married in the year 1879 to Mr. Richard Tebrick, after a short
courtship, and went to live after their honeymoon at Rylands, near
Stokoe, Oxon. One point indeed I have not been able to ascertain and
that is how they first became acquainted. Tangley Hall is over thirty
miles from Stokoe, and is extremely remote. Indeed to this day there is
no proper road to it, which is all the more remarkable as it is the
principal, and indeed the only, manor house for several miles round.
Whether it was from a chance meeting on the roads, or less romantic but
more probable, by Mr. Tebrick becoming acquainted with her uncle, a
minor canon at Oxford, and thence being invited by him to visit Tangley
Hall, it is impossible to say. But however they became acquainted the
marriage was a very happy one. The bride was in her twenty-third year.
She was small, with remarkably small hands and feet. It is perhaps worth
noting that there was nothing at all foxy or vixenish in her appearance.
On the contrary, she was a more than ordinarily beautiful and agreeable
woman. Her eyes were of a clear hazel but exceptionally brilliant, her
hair dark, with a shade of red in it, her skin brownish, with a few dark
freckles and little moles. In manner she was reserved almost to shyness,
but perfectly self-possessed, and perfectly well-bred.
She had been strictly brought up by a woman of excellent principles and
considerable attainments, who died a year or so before the marriage. And
owing to the circumstance that her mother had been dead many years, and
her father bedridden, and not altogether rational for a little while
before his death, they had few visitors but her uncle. He often stopped
with them a month or two at a stretch, particularly in winter, as he was
fond of shooting snipe, which are plentiful in the valley there. That
she did not grow up a country hoyden is to be explained by the
strictness of her governess and the influence of her uncle. But perhaps
living in so wild a place gave her some disposition to wildness, even in
spite of her religious upbringing. Her old nurse said: "Miss Silvia was
always a little wild at heart," though if this was true it was never
seen by anyone else except her husband.
On one of the first days of the year 1880, in the early afternoon,
husband and wife went for a walk in the copse on the little hill above
Rylands. They were still at this time like lovers in their behaviour and
were always together. While they were walking they heard the hounds and
later the huntsman's horn in the distance. Mr. Tebrick had persuaded her
to hunt on Boxing Day, but with great difficulty, and she had not
enjoyed it (though of hacking she was fond enough).
Hearing the hunt, Mr. Tebrick quickened his pace so as to reach the edge
of the copse, where they might get a good view of the hounds if they
came that way. His wife hung back, and he, holding her hand, began
almost to drag her. Before they gained the edge of the copse she
suddenly snatched her hand away from his very violently and cried out,
so that he instantly turned his head.
/Where his wife had been the moment before was a small fox, of a very
bright red/. It looked at him very beseechingly, advanced towards him a
pace or two, and he saw at once that his wife was looking at him from
the animal's eyes. You may well think if he were aghast: and so maybe
was his lady at finding herself in that shape, so they did nothing for
nearly half-an-hour but stare at each other, he bewildered, she asking
him with her eyes as if indeed she spoke to him: "What am I now become?
Have pity on me, husband, have pity on me for I am your wife."
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