“‘But, sir, he was sitting in your arm chair, fronting the door, writing on your slate. Then he looked up full in my face; and if ever I saw a man plainly and distinctly in the world I saw him.’
“‘Him! Who?’
“‘Heaven knows, sir; I don’t! I saw a man and a man I have never seen in my life before.’
“‘You must be going crazy, Mr. Bruce. A stranger, and we nearly six weeks out!’
“The captain descended the stairs, and the mate followed him. Nobody in the cabin! They examined the staterooms. Not a soul could be found.
“‘Well, Mr. Bruce,’ said the Captain, ‘did not I tell you that you had been dreaming?’
“‘It’s all very well to say so, sir; but if I didn’t see that man writing on the slate may I never see home and family again!’
“‘Ah! Writing on the slate. Then it should be there still!’ And the captain took it up. ‘By heaven,’ he exclaimed, ‘here’s something sure enough! Is that your writing, Mr. Bruce?’
“The mate took the slate; and there, in plain, legible characters, stood the words: ‘Steer to the Nor’-west.’
“The captain sat down at his desk, the slate before him, in deep thought. At last turning the slate over, and pushing it toward Bruce, he said: ‘Write down: “Steer to the nor’west.”’
“The mate complied; and the captain, comparing the two handwritings, said: ‘Mr. Bruce, go and tell the second mate to come down here.’
“He came, and at the captain’s request, he also wrote the words. So did the steward. So in succession did every man of the crew who could write at all. But not one of the various hands resembled, in any degree, the mysterious writing.
“When the crew retired, the captain sat deep in thought. ‘Could anyone have been stowed away?’ at last he said. ‘The ship must be searched. Order up all hands.’
“Every nook and corner of the vessel was thoroughly searched; not a living soul was found.
“Accordingly, the captain decided to change the vessel’s course according to the instructions received. A look-out was posted; who shortly reported an iceberg, and then, shortly after, a vessel close to it.
“As they approached, the captain’s glass disclosed the fact that it was a dismantled ship, apparently frozen to the ice.... It proved to be a vessel from Quebec, bound for Liverpool, with passengers on board. She had got entangled in the ice, and finally frozen fast; and had passed several weeks in a most critical situation. She was stove, her decks swept; in fact, a mere wreck; all her provisions and almost all her water gone. Her crew and passengers had lost all hope of being saved, and their gratitude at the unexpected rescue was proportionately great.
“As one of the men who had been brought away in the third boat ascended the ship’s side, the mate, catching a glimpse of his face, started back in consternation. It was the very face he had seen three or four hours before, looking up at him from the captain’s desk! He communicated this fact to the captain.
“After the comfort of the passengers had been seen to, the captain turned to the stranger, and said to him: ‘I hope, sir, you will not think I am trifling with you, but I would be much obliged to you if you would write a few words on this slate.’ And he handed him the slate, with that side up on which the mysterious writing was not.
“‘I will do anything you ask,’ replied the passenger, ‘but what shall I write?’
“‘A few words are all I want. Suppose you write: ‘Steer to the nor’-west.’
“The passenger, evidently puzzled to make out the motive of such a request, complied, however, with a smile. The captain took up the slate and examined it closely; then stepping aside so as to conceal the slate from the passenger, he turned it over and gave it to him the other side up.
“‘You say that this is your handwriting?’ said he.
“‘I need not say so,’ replied the other, looking at it, ‘for you saw me write it.’
“‘And this?’ said the captain, turning the slate over.
“The man looked first at one writing, then at the other, quite confounded. At last: ‘What is the meaning of this?’ said he. ‘I only wrote one of these. Who wrote the other?’
“‘That’s more than I can tell you, sir. My mate here says you wrote it, sitting at this desk, at noon to-day!’
“The captain of the wreck and the passenger looked at each other, exchanging glances of intelligence and surprise; then the former asked the latter: ‘Did you dream that you wrote on this slate?’
“‘No, sir, not that I remember.’
“‘You speak of dreaming,’ said the captain of the barque. ‘What was this gentleman about at noon to-day?’
“‘Captain,’ rejoined the other, (the captain of the wreck), ‘the whole thing is most mysterious and extraordinary; and I had intended to speak to you about it as soon as we got a little quiet. This gentleman—pointing to the passenger—being much exhausted, fell into a heavy sleep, or what seemed such, some time before noon. After an hour or more, he awoke, and said to me: ‘Captain, we shall be relieved this very day.’ When I asked him what reason he had for saying so, he replied that he had dreamed that he was on board a barque, and that she was coming to our rescue. He described her appearance and rig, and, to our utter astonishment, when your vessel hove in sight, she corresponded exactly to his description of her! We had not put much faith in what he said; yet still we hoped there might be something in it, for drowning men, as you know, catch at straws. As it turned out, I cannot doubt that it was all arranged by some overruling Providence.’
“‘There is not a doubt,’ replied the captain of the barque, ‘that the writing on the slate, let it come there as it may, saved all your lives. I was steering at the time considerably south of west, and I altered my course for the nor’-west, and had a look-out aloft, to see what would come of it. But you say,’ he added, turning to the passenger, ‘that you did not dream of writing on a slate?’
“‘No, sir. I have no recollection whatever of doing so. I got the impression that the barque I saw in my dream was coming to rescue us; but how that impression came I cannot tell. There is another very strange thing about it,’ he added. ‘Everything here on board seems to be quite familiar; yet I am very sure that I was never in your vessel before. It is all a puzzle to me! What did your mate see?’
“Thereupon Mr. Bruce related to them all the circumstances above detailed.”
How Ghosts Influence Us
The following is a very interesting case, which brings vividly before us the fact that ghosts often draw power from those who witness their manifestations—just as they draw vitality from a materializing “medium,” during a seance. As cases of this character are rare, the following is of considerable value:
“It was an afternoon, last autumn, about six o’clock. I had returned from a stroll and was sitting in my own apartment on Central Park West, reading Vanity Fair. While turning over its pages I became suddenly aware of a novel and indescribable sensation. My chest and breathing became inwardly oppressed by some ponderous weight, while I became conscious of some ‘presence’ behind me, exerting a powerful influence on the forces within. On trying to turn my head to see what it could be, I was powerless to do so; neither could I lift a hand, or move in any way. I was not a little alarmed, and began immediately to reason. My mind was alive, though physically I was unable to move a muscle. It was as if the current of nerve force within seemed forcibly drawn together and focussed on a spot in front of me.
“I gazed motionless, as though with something intenser than ordinary eyesight, on what was no longer vacant space. There an oval, misty light was forming—elongatory, widening, yes, actually developing into a human face and form. Was this hallucination, or some vision of the unseen, coming in so unexpected a fashion? Before me had arisen a remarkable figure, never seen before in a picture or life—dark-skinned, aged, with white beard, the expression intensely earnest, the features small, the bald head finely moulded, lofty over the forehead, the whole dem
eanor instinct with solemn grace.
“He was speaking to me in deep tones, as if in urgent entreaty. What would I not give to hear words from such a figure! But no effort availed me to distinguish one articular sound. I tried to speak, but could not. With desperate effort I shook out the words, ‘Speak louder.’ The face grew more intent, the voice louder and more emphatic. Was there something amiss with my own hearing, then, that I could distinguish no word amid these deeply emphasized tones? Slowly and deliberately the figure vanished—through the same stages of indistinctness, back to the globular lamplike whiteness, till it faded to nothingness. Before it had quite faded away, the face only of a woman arose, indistinct and dim. The same emphatic hum, though in a subdued note; the same paralysis of voice and muscle, the same strange force, as it was overshadowing me. With the disappearance of this second and far less interesting figure, I recovered my power of movement and arose.
“My first impulse was to look around for the origin of this strange force; my second to rush to the looking-glass to make sure of myself. There could be no illusion. There I was, paler than usual, the forehead bathed in perspiration. I threw open the window. It was no dream. There were the passing trolley cars below, clanging up and down, while a crowd of noisy youngsters were playing in the park across the way. I sponged my face, and, greatly agitated, walked hurriedly to and fro. If this is real, I thought, it may recur. I would sit in the same position, try to be calm, read a book, remain as still and passive as I could, and see the result.
“To my intense interest, and almost at once, the strange sense of some power operating on the nerve-forces within, followed by the same loss of muscular power, the same wide-awakeness of the reason, the same drawing out and concentrating of the energies on that spot in front, repeated itself—this time more deliberately, leaving me freer to take mental notes of what was happening. Again arose the noble, earnest figure, gazing at me, the hands moving in solemn accompaniment to the deep tones of voice. The same effort, painful on my part, to hear, with no result. The vision passed. Again the woman’s face, insignificant and meaningless, succeeded it as before. She spoke, but in less emphatic tones. It flashed upon me that I would hear. After a frantic effort, I caught two words—‘Land,’ ‘America’—with positively no clue to their meaning.
“I was wide awake when the first apparition appeared, and in a highly excited state of mind on its re-appearance.”
How a Ghost Warned the King
Kings and queens are not exempt from visitations of the supernatural; indeed, a large number of royal dignitaries have seen “ghosts,” and have been haunted by specters in as unpleasant a manner as any ordinary mortal. Were we to hunt through the pages of history, we should find many of these—some of which it will doubtless be of interest to give at some future time. The following account is taken from the Annals of the Kingdom of Scotland, and is told in queer old English, with long ‘s’s,’ and so on, making it very hard to read in the original! I interpret it into modern English as best I can, maintaining its form:
“While James IV. stayed at Linlithgow, to gather up the scattered remains of his army, which had been defeated by the Earl of Surrey, at Flodden-field, he went into the Church of St. Michael there to hear evening prayer. While he was at his devotion, a remarkable figure of an ancient man, with flowing amber-colored hair hanging over his shoulders, his forehead high, and inclining to baldness, his garments of a fine blue color, somewhat long and girded together, with a fine white cloth, of comely and very reverent aspect, was seen inquiring for the king; when his majesty being pointed out to him he made his way through the crowd till he came to him, and then, with a clown’s simplicity, leaning over the cannon’s feet, he addressed him in the following words: ‘Sir, I am sent hither to entreat you to delay your intended expedition for this time, and proceed no further; for if you do, you will be unfortunate, and not prosper in your enterprise, nor any of your followers. I am further charged to warn you, not to follow the acquaintance, company or counsel of women, as you value your life, honour and estate.’
“After giving him this admonition, he withdrew himself back through the crowd and disappeared.
“When service was ended, the king enquired earnestly after him, but he could not be found or heard of anywhere, neither could any of the bystanders (of whom many narrowly watched him, resolving afterwards to have discoursed with him) feel or perceive how, when or where he passed from them, having in a manner vanished from their sight.
“This caused the king to feel some uneasiness; ‘for,’ said he, ‘if he were mortal man, how did he go so quickly hence, and how did he give me such advice, which I, of all men, know at this time to be of value?’ The king was sorely puzzled; and called the warden of the church to him, and questioned him as to the man whom he had seen.
“And when the warden had heard the tale from the king, he questioned him in turn, as to the man’s appearance—whether he was this and that; and of the man’s manner of speech. And when the king had answered to his satisfaction, he turned pale; and said: ‘Oh, king, the personage whom you saw to-day was not mortal man; but one dead long ago; one who lived and died close here; and known to many of us well. He has been known to come before in times of great stress; and his advice has always been good. Truly, my lord, you have this day seen an apparition of a dead man.’
“And the king marvelled at what he had seen.”
Thus ends the curious old narrative. It will be seen that several others saw the ghost besides the king. These are called “collective cases” by those engaged in psychical studies; for the reason that several persons saw the figure at the same time, or “collectively.” Such cases have never been satisfactorily explained. For, if the phantom were a mere hallucination, as many claim, how did several see it at once?
The Stain of Blood
The following narrative was personally related to Robert Dale Owen, by a clergyman of the Church of England, who was Chaplain, at the time, to the British Legation in Florence. It is as follows:
“In the year 1856, I was staying with my wife and children, at a favorite watering place. In order to attend to some affairs of my own, I determined to leave my family there for three or four days. Accordingly, on the 8th of August, I took the railway, and arrived that evening an unexpected guest at the Hall—the residence of a gentleman whose acquaintance I had recently made, and with whom my sister was then staying.
“I arrived late, soon afterwards went to bed, and before long fell asleep. Awaking after three or four hours, I was not surprised to find that I could sleep no more—for I never rest well in a strange bed. After trying, therefore, in vain to induce sleep, I began to arrange my plans for the day. I had been engaged some little time in this way, when I became suddenly sensitive to the fact that there was a light in the room. Turning round, I distinctly perceived a female figure; and what attracted my special attention was that the light by which I saw it emanated from itself. I watched the figure attentively. The features were not perceptible. After moving a little distance, it disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared.
“My first thoughts were that there was some trick. I immediately got out of bed, struck a light, and found my bedroom door still locked. I then carefully examined the walls, to ascertain if there was any other concealed means of entrance or exit, but none could I find. I drew the curtains and opened the shutters, but all outside was silent and dark, there being no moonlight. After examining the room in every part, I went back to bed, and began thinking calmly over the whole matter. What had I seen? And why did It appear?
“In the morning, as soon as I was up and dressed, I told my sister what I had seen. She then informed me that the house had the reputation of being ‘haunted’; and that a murder had been committed in it; but not in the room in which I had slept. Later in the day I left—after making my sister promise to do all she could to unravel the mystery.
“On the following Wednesday morning, I received a letter from my sister, in which she informed me tha
t, since I left, she had made inquiries and had ascertained that the murder was committed in the very room in which I slept! She added that she proposed visiting us the next day, and that she would like me to write out an account of what I had seen—together with a plan of the room, and that on that plan she wished me to mark the place of the appearance and disappearance of the figure.
“This I immediately did; and the next day when my sister arrived, she asked me if I had complied with her request? I replied, pointing to the drawing room table: ‘Yes, there is the account and the plan.’
“As she rose to examine it, I prevented her, saying: ‘Do not look at it until you have told me all you have to say, because you might unintentionally color your story by what you may read there.’
“Thereupon she informed me that she had had the carpet taken up in the room I had occupied, and that the marks of blood from the murdered person were there, plainly visible, on a particular part of the floor. At my request she also then drew a plan of the room, and marked upon it the spots which still bore traces of blood. The two plans—my sister’s and mine—were now compared; and we verified the most remarkable fact that the place she had marked as the beginning and ending of the traces of blood coincided exactly with the spots marked on my plan as those on which the female figure had appeared and disappeared!”
Face to Face!
The following case is recorded by the wife of Colonel Lewin, and is reported in the Proceedings of the S. P. R.:
“In January, 1868, I took a house close to Hastings.... One night there was a heavy storm, the weather was bitterly cold, and a fire was burning in my bedroom when I went to bed at 10.30. I tried to go to sleep, but it was no use; the noise of the wind and the rain kept me awake. I must have been lying like this for a couple of hours when I became conscious of what seemed like a light in the room.... I thought the fire must have re-kindled itself, and crawled along on my knees on the bed to look at the fire over the high wooden foot, to see how this might be. I had no thought of anything but the fire, and was not nervous in the slightest degree. As I raised myself on my knees and looked over the foot of the bed, I found myself face to face, at a distance of about three feet, with the semblance of a man. I never for a moment thought he was a man, but was struck with the feeling that this was one from the dead.
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