Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 18

by Unknown

"It was during a voyage I made to New York from Greenock, in the brig Cochrane, that I once saw, with my own eyes, a strange sight, such as I hope never to witness again. Our cargo consisted of dry goods, and we had several emigrants as passengers; in particular, a family of six in the cabin, the husband and wife, with four children; they were wealthy, and had sold off their farm stock to purchase land, and settle somewhere in America. When they came on board at the quay of Greenock, they were accompanied by a great many relations and friends, who took a most affectionate leave of them; in particular one old woman, the mother of the emigrant's wife. Her wailings were most pitiable; she wrung her hands, and stood as if rooted to our decks. I heard her say more than once—

"'Mary, I feel I shall never see you more, nor these lovely babes. O why will you leave your aged mother to go mourning to her grave?'

"Her daughter looked more like one dead than alive, as she lay sobbing upon the breast of her husband, her mother holding one of her hands between both of her's. Poor soul, she looked as if her heart was breaking, but spoke not; at length, the husband said—

"'O woman, have you no feeling for your daughter?'

"The old woman's grief seemed, all at once, turned into rage: she let her daughter's hand drop, and, raising her hands, cursed him for depriving her of her daughter; concluding with—

"'But, James, remember what I say; dead or alive, I shall yet see my Mary.'

"The poor young woman was carried below in a faint and the old dame was conveyed from the deck by the friends, for we were by this time cast loose, and leaving our berth. For several days I saw nothing of the farmer's family, as they were very sick; but the children had now begun to play about the deck, and their father would leave the cabin for a short time, once or twice a-day, for his wife remained very ill, and confined to her bed. The haglike appearance of the old woman, in her rage, had made a great impression on me, and had evidently sunk the spirits of the young people; for I often saw, when the husband came on deck, that he was much dejected. I felt it strange that the figure of the old woman often occurred to my mind when I looked at him; and I several times dreamed I saw her in my sleep, as I had seen her in Greenock, but her appearance was more pale and hideous, and had so great an effect upon me, that I always awoke in an agony, and cursed her from my heart.

"About mid-passage we met with westerly gales and rough weather, which caused the passengers to keep below for several days, and retarded our passage much. It was blowing very hard. It was my turn at the wheel. In the midwatch we had occasional showers. The clouds were scudding along in immense bodies over the face of the moon, which was just at the full, so that we had, at times, bright moonlight for a minute or two, then gloom; but the night was not dark. I might have been at the wheel half my time or so. My eye was fixed ahead to watch the set of the waves, save when I glanced to the compass. I thought I saw something upon the bowsprit in the gloom that was not there a moment before. I looked aloft to see for a break in the clouds that the moon might shew me more distinctly what it was. I looked ahead again, and there it still was, but nearer the bows of the vessel. Still I could not make out what it was. Soon a burst of moonlight shone forth, and I saw it resembled a human figure, but whether man or woman I could not tell, for the moon was as suddenly obscured as it had shone forth. I felt very queer; being certain it was none of the crew—for the whole watch was aft at the time—and I was sure that all the passengers were below, and no one had come on deck since the watch had been changed. I looked at the spot where I had seen it, and it was gone. I felt the greatest inclination to tell what I had seen; but the fear of being laughed at, made me say nothing of it at this time; I, however, never wished so much for anything in my life as that my spell at the wheel was over, and the watch passed. When, at length, I was released, I crept to the foxa, and tumbled into my hammock, but could not close an eye for thinking of what I had seen.

"Well, my mates, I was then, as I am now, in a pretty mess, and wished myself as heartily out of the Cochrane as we all do ourselves out of this old foundered hulk of a church. I was fairly aground with fear, and felt all of a tremble for the nights I must pass on board before we reached New York, where I was determined to leave the brig if I saw any more such sights. For a few days the gale continued, sometimes blowing very hard, at others more moderate, but nothing uncommon occurred. At length it abated, and we had pleasant weather. I began to think I had been deceived, and was glad I had not spoken of what I had seen to any of the crew. It was the afternoon, towards evening. I was again at the wheel. The sun was setting in a bed of clouds, as gaily coloured as a ship rejoicing—the colours of all nations floating aloft, from the point of her bowsprit to the end of her jib-boom. The four children were playing upon deck, laughing and full of joy at being once more relieved from their long confinement in the cabin. I looked at their innocent gambols and at the beautiful sky by turns, as much as my duty would allow, and felt more happy than I had done since we sailed. It was so pleasant to look ahead; for every face on deck wore a pleasing and happy aspect. I looked again at the children's gambols; but I almost dropped at the wheel. My hands and limbs refused to do their office. There, before me, close by the children, stood the exact representation of the old woman—so stern, so unearthly was her look, that I cannot express it; but she was pale as the foam on the crest of a wave. I could not call out. I had no power either to move tongue or limb. The yawing of the vessel called the attention of the mate to me, who sung out to hold her steady. I heard him, but could not obey. My whole faculties were engrossed by the fearful vision. My eyes appeared as if they would have started out of my head. One of the crew seized the wheel. All looked at me with astonishment. I stood rivetted to the spot, pointing to where the spectre stood; but no one saw anything but myself. The captain was below in the cabin, with the farmer and his wife—the latter of whom was known to all the crew to be very ill. As I looked to the unearthly figure, attracted by a power I could not resist, the children continued their play. The features of the old woman, I thought, relaxed, and a sadness came over them, but it was of unearthly expression. The figure glided from the children to the cabin-companion, and disappeared below, when it as suddenly came again upon deck, accompanied by the farmer's wife, pale and wasted. Both gazed upon the children. The young woman appeared to wring her hands in great distress, as I had seen her before she was carried below; but the old woman hurried her over the side of the brig, and I saw no more of them. When they disappeared, my faculties returned. I trembled as if I had been in an ague, and the cold sweat stood in large drops upon my forehead. The mate and crew thought that I had been in a fit, until I told them what I had seen. They looked rather serious, but were much inclined to laugh at me. The mate began to jaw me a little on my fancies. All had passed in a minute or two. Scarce had the mate spoken a dozen of words, when the captain hurried upon deck, much affected, and called to one of the female steerage passengers to go instantly to the cabin and assist, as he feared the farmer's wife was dead. The mate ceased to speak, and the rest of the crew looked as amazed as I did at the strange occurrence. The captain came to us. When he heard my strange story, he shook his head, and only said it was a remarkable occurrence; but I had been deceived by some illusion, and commanded us not to speak of it, for distressing the poor husband. We resolved to obey him, as we were by this time nearly in with the land, and expected to make it next day, which we did; and the poor farmer was helped ashore, almost as death-like as the body of his wife, which was buried in New York. I sailed several trips afterwards in the Cochrane, but never saw anything out of the common afterwards in her or anywhere else."

The first rays of the rising sun shone upon us all sound asleep, as quiet and undisturbed as if we had passed the night under the roofs of our fathers' houses; but I was cold, stiff, and sore when I awoke. I had passed the night upon a flat gravestone outside of the church, for want of room within, without any covering but my shirt and trousers—all I had saved from the wreck. There was not a character engraved on the stone that was not as distinctly marked on my body. It was of no use grumbling or being cast down—we were fairly adrift, and must go with the current. It was now that the buoyancy of a sailor's mind burst forth. The old church and churchyard resounded with shouts and laughter, that made the French sentinels think we had all gone mad. Some were busy at leap-frog, others were pursuing each other among the ruins and tomb-stones—all were in active exertion for the sake of warmth, and to beguile the time; while the French gathered outside wherever they could obtain a sight of us, and looked on in amazement at our frolics. I am certain they were not without fear for us; for a few of the lads had contrived to clamber to the top of the ruins; and were amusing themselves by antics, at the hazard of their necks, and throwing small pieces of lime at us below. The officer in command called to them to come down; but they knew not what he said. Some of them cried out, in answer to his call—"Speak like a Christian if you want us to understand you, and don't wow like a dog." At this moment, Nick Williams, one of our maintop men, had scaled the highest point of the walls, and had, at the risk of his life, contrived to perch himself upon the crumbling stone, and was huzzaing most vociferously. It was a daring and foolhardy feat. A shout of admiration rose from the outside of the walls, when a real British cheer answered it from within. Whether the officer was enraged at the apparent defiance and disobedience to his commands, I know not, but several muskets were fired through the rails of the gate, and the balls recoiled from the walls. A shout of rage burst from us; and a serious conflict was only prevented by the prudence of the petty officers who were among us; for the enraged seamen had begun to collect stones from the base of the ruined walls to hurl at the dastardly guards, who were shouting, "Vive la Nation!" "Vive la Republique!" Our boatswain, who was a cool and resolute old tar, seeing that the storm was still on the verge of bursting out—for we looked upon their cries as insulting as their balls—by a happy thought, struck up the national air, "God save the King," which we sung with an enthusiasm and strength of lungs never, I am certain, surpassed before or since. If it had no melody, it had a tone and sound equivalent to both. Many who still held the stones in their hands, which they had lifted to hurl at the guards, struck them together like cymbals, in regular time, to increase the noise. The effect was most exhilarating and produced the desired effect of turning our angry feeling into good-humour. So pleased were we, that we gave them "Rule Britannia" in the same style, until we forgot, in our enthusiasm, that we were prisoners, hungry, cold, and naked. Scarce had the last loud cadence died away, when the gate was thrown open, and a miserable allowance of the same black bread was served out to us, with plenty of water, and the gate once more shut against us.