Next night an apparition in the likeness of James Haddock appeared again to Mr. Taverner, and bade him go to Eleanor Welsh, wife of one Davis, but formerly the spouse of James Haddock, by whom she had an only son, to whom Haddock had by will given a lease of a farm, but of which the son was deprived by Davis. "Tell her," said the ghost, "that it is the will of your former husband that our son should be righted in the lease." Through some infatuation, the man disregarded the instructions of the apparition, and for his neglect he was haunted and threatened by the apparition in several forms.
So uneasy did Mr. Taverner feel, that he left his mountain home and went to Belfast. Thither the ghost followed him, and again threatened to tear him in pieces unless he delivered the message. He therefore went to Lord Chichester, owner of the farm, and with tears in his eyes related the whole story. Dr. Lewis Downs, a minister in Belfast, hearing the relation, at first questioned the lawfulness of obeying a spirit, but, on mature consideration, and having respect to the injured son's interest, not only thought the message should be delivered, but agreed to accompany Taverner to Davis's house to hear it communicated.
Dr. Taylor, bishop of Down, Connor, and Dromore, after strictly examining Taverner anent the whole matter, expressed his belief in the realness of the apparition. No doubt the medium of communication suffered much mental torture, and great excitement prevailed in the north of Ireland; but, however, to use a hackneyed phrase, "All's well that ends well." The apparition's mission to earth was fulfilled; for the young man's wrongs were redressed, and he remained for many years in secure possession of his father's lands.
An old Highland prophecy respecting the Argyll family has been brought to mind by the marriage of the Marquis of Lorn, heir apparent to the dukedom, with a princess of England. It was foretold that all the glories of the Campbell family would be renewed in the first chief who in the colour of his locks approached nearest to that of the great Jan Roy Cean (Red John the Great), Duke of Argyll. Nature has performed her part in the person of the noble Marquis, and fate is not likely to allow the prophecy to remain unfulfilled.
Gipsies have always been associated with superstition. In their tents, and elsewhere, the women belonging to that class are professed fortune-tellers. We have heard them in all parts of Scotland and England telling fortunes, and seen people trembling at their curses, and witnessed others highly elated at their blessings and favourable predictions. In far-back times the leaders of the gipsies were chosen as their chiefs in consequence of this acknowledged power of divination and enchantment; they were therefore regarded not as kings or princes, but as prophets or magicians.
At Yetholm the gipsies have an idea that it is unlucky to have unbaptized children in their houses. Women of that village sell dreaming powders, by sleeping on which for a certain number of nights the sleepers are privileged to see their future partners in life.
As an instance in the belief of unholy prayers, we give an episode in the Leith police court in 1878. A woman named Allan was charged with assaulting a man because he had ill-used one of her boys. She was a person of wild passions, and upbraided the man with divers acts of cruelty to her children. Bursting out into loud cursing, she reminded the man that, eight years previously, she had, in consequence of him kicking her orphan child, prayed that neither he nor his wife should have children; "and you know," she exclaimed, "my prayers have been answered!" The woman professed to believe her unholy prayers had hindered the subjects of her wrath from having offspring. The man quailed under the termagant's piercing eye, and trembled at the renewed curses.
At the same court, a few years ago, it transpired that two women in the fishing village of Newhaven had a quarrel, during which one of them cursed the other and "salted her," i.e. threw salt at her. To cast salt with an evil intent after one, is as unlucky, in the estimation of fishermen and their wives, as it is to tell a fisherwoman that a hare's foot is in her creel, or to mention "Brounger" or the name of a four-footed beast at sea.
A few sceptical friends, not believing all they had heard regarding the superstitious notions of fishermen, were advised to put a young pig among some fishermen's lines on board of a boat at Newhaven pier. The trick being performed, and discovered before the boat put to sea, both pig and lines were tossed overboard, to the spoiling of a whole day's fishing.
A boat's crew recently left Newhaven pier for the oyster dredging in the Firth of Forth. One of the crew, a young lad, who had been at a circus in Edinburgh the previous evening, happened, while giving an account of what he had seen, to say "horse." No sooner had the hated word been uttered, than his companions assailed him in a most unmerciful manner. His disregard of the tradition of his fathers put an end to the fishing, it not being considered prudent by the men to prosecute their calling any more that day. In these superstitions, fishermen are following the examples of the ancients. It will be remembered the names of the Furies, Kings, etc. were not to be named, and that there were birds and beasts of ill omen.