A few years passed and the squire found it necessary to make a journey to London on a matter of business, but thinking that the crow would cause an odd sensation if it followed him about the Metropolis, he decided, or let himself be persuaded, that it was better to leave the bird behind. On his way home from town, he stayed for a night or two at the house of a friend in Shrewsbury. During dinner the door of the dining-room was blown open suddenly, as though by an unexpected gust of wind, and the white crow flew into the room and perched on the squire's shoulder, as though well-contented to be once more in the presence of its master.
To satisfy the curiosity of the guests, the squire explained that the bird was his most faithful friend. When the diners left the table and went into the drawing-room a pet dog chased the bird, which had left its perch on the squire's shoulder and had flown on ahead. One of the visitors attempted to strike the dog, hoping to make it cease to persecute the bird, and by accident he hit the bird instead. Croaking piteously, the white crow wheeled about twice and fluttered to the ground dying. The squire who had lingered behind the others came forward at the noise of the fray and, seeing the dead crow, cried:
"Alas! You have killed one who was to me like a brother."
Then he turned to his host and took a hurried farewell, for, he added, "I have but three weeks more to live."
At this strange speech the host and his guests concluded that the squire was over-superstitious and they pooh-poohed his fears, which, however, proved only too correct. He died three weeks later, as he had himself prophesied, and then it was reported that the elder brother, on his disappearance, had taken the shape of a crow and that whoever owned the bird knew that he would only survive it by three weeks. A third brother inherited the estate, and to this day when a death is expected in the family, a white crow with black wings is seen hovering near the house.[144]
A bird is connected with a death-warning in the Lyttleton family, whose country seat is Hagley in Worcestershire. The first earl was a distinguished poet and historian, but his son, Thomas, the second earl, was known as "the wicked Lord Lyttleton," a title he had won by his extravagances and profligacy. He died on November 27th, 1779, at his town house in Hill Street, having been foretold of his death three days previously.