 | THE SPECTRE SHIP. Legends of New-England |  |
THE SPECTRE SHIP.
THE SPECTRE SHIP.
[The Legend of the Spectre Ship of Salem is still preserved among some of
the old descendants of the puritans. A particular description of the pretenatural
visitation is given in “Magnalia Christi Americana.” The story is,
that a ship, which left Salem sometime during the 17th century for “old England,”
contained, among other passengers, a young man of a strange and
wild appearance, and a girl, still younger, and of surpassing beauty. She
was deadly pale, and trembled, even while she leaned on the arm of her companion.
No one knew them—they spoke not—they paid no regard to anything
around them. This excited the alarm of some of the credulous people
of the place, who supposed them to be demons: and who, in consequence,
endeavored to dissuade their friends from entering the ship—notwithstanding
which, a goodly number went on board. The remainder of the story is told
in the following lines.]
“The morning light is breaking forth
All over the dark blue sea—
And the waves are changed—they are rich with gold
As the morning waves should be,
And the rising winds are wandering out
On their seaward pinions free.
The bark is ready—the sails are set,
And the boat rocks on the shore—
Say why do the passengers linger yet?—
Is not the farewell o'er?
Do those who enter that gallant ship
Go forth to return no more?”
All over the dark blue sea—
And the waves are changed—they are rich with gold
As the morning waves should be,
And the rising winds are wandering out
On their seaward pinions free.
The bark is ready—the sails are set,
And the boat rocks on the shore—
Say why do the passengers linger yet?—
Is not the farewell o'er?
Do those who enter that gallant ship
Go forth to return no more?”
87
A wailing rose by the water-side,
A young, fair girl was there—
With a face as pale as the face of Death
When its coffin-lid is bare;—
And an eye as strangely beautiful
As a star in the upper air.
She leaned on a youthful stranger's arm,
A tall and silent one—
Who stood in the very midst of the crowd,
Yet uttered a word to none;
He gazed on the sea and the waiting ship—
But he gazed on them alone!
The fair girl leaned on the stranger's arm,
And she wept as one in fear,
But he heeded not the plaintive moan
And the dropping of the tear;—
His eye was fixed on the stirring sea,
Cold, darkly and severe!
The boat was filled—the shore was left—
The farewell word was said—
But the vast crowd lingered still behind
With an over-powering dread;
A young, fair girl was there—
With a face as pale as the face of Death
When its coffin-lid is bare;—
And an eye as strangely beautiful
As a star in the upper air.
She leaned on a youthful stranger's arm,
A tall and silent one—
Who stood in the very midst of the crowd,
Yet uttered a word to none;
He gazed on the sea and the waiting ship—
But he gazed on them alone!
The fair girl leaned on the stranger's arm,
And she wept as one in fear,
But he heeded not the plaintive moan
And the dropping of the tear;—
His eye was fixed on the stirring sea,
Cold, darkly and severe!
The boat was filled—the shore was left—
The farewell word was said—
But the vast crowd lingered still behind
With an over-powering dread;
88
They feared that stranger and his bride,
So pale and like the dead.
And many said that an evil pair
Among their friends had gone,—
A demon with his human prey,
From the quiet grave-yard drawn;
And a prayer was heard that the innocent
Might escape the Evil One.
Away—the good ship sped away,
Out on the broad high seas—
The sun upon her path before—
Behind, the steady breeze—
And there was naught in sea or sky
Of fearful auguries.
The day passed on—the sunlight fell
All slantwise from the west,
And then the heavy clouds of storm
Sat on the ocean's breast;
And every swelling billow mourn'd
Like a living thing distressed.
The sun went down among the clouds,
Tinging with sudden gold,
So pale and like the dead.
And many said that an evil pair
Among their friends had gone,—
A demon with his human prey,
From the quiet grave-yard drawn;
And a prayer was heard that the innocent
Might escape the Evil One.
Away—the good ship sped away,
Out on the broad high seas—
The sun upon her path before—
Behind, the steady breeze—
And there was naught in sea or sky
Of fearful auguries.
The day passed on—the sunlight fell
All slantwise from the west,
And then the heavy clouds of storm
Sat on the ocean's breast;
And every swelling billow mourn'd
Like a living thing distressed.
The sun went down among the clouds,
Tinging with sudden gold,
89
The pall-like shadow of the storm,
On every mighty fold—
And then the lightning's eye look'd forth,
And the red thunder rolled.
The storm came down upon the sea,
In its surpassing dread,
Rousing the white and broken surge
Above its rocky bed,
As if the deep was stirred beneath
A giant's viewless tread.
All night the hurricane went on.
And all along the shore,
The smothered cry of shipwreck'd men
Blent with the ocean's roar;—
The grey-haired man had scarcely known
So wild a night before.
Morn rose upon a tossing sea,
The tempest's work was done,
And freely over land and wave,
Shone out the blessed sun—
But where was she—that merchant-bark—
Where had the good ship gone?
On every mighty fold—
And then the lightning's eye look'd forth,
And the red thunder rolled.
The storm came down upon the sea,
In its surpassing dread,
Rousing the white and broken surge
Above its rocky bed,
As if the deep was stirred beneath
A giant's viewless tread.
All night the hurricane went on.
And all along the shore,
The smothered cry of shipwreck'd men
Blent with the ocean's roar;—
The grey-haired man had scarcely known
So wild a night before.
Morn rose upon a tossing sea,
The tempest's work was done,
And freely over land and wave,
Shone out the blessed sun—
But where was she—that merchant-bark—
Where had the good ship gone?
90
Men gathered on the shore to watch
The billow's heavy swell,
Hoping, yet fearing much, some frail
Memorial might tell
The fate of that disastrous ship,—
Of friends they loved so well.
None came—the billows smoothed away—
And all was strangely calm,
As if the very sea had felt
A necromancer's charm;
And not a trace was left behind,
Of violence and harm.
The twilight came with sky of gold—
And curtaining of night—
And then a sudden cry rang out,
“A ship—the ship in sight!”
And lo!—tall masts grew visible
Within the fading light.
Near and more near the ship came on,
With all her broad sails spread—
The night grew thick, but a phantom light
Around her path was shed,
The billow's heavy swell,
Hoping, yet fearing much, some frail
Memorial might tell
The fate of that disastrous ship,—
Of friends they loved so well.
None came—the billows smoothed away—
And all was strangely calm,
As if the very sea had felt
A necromancer's charm;
And not a trace was left behind,
Of violence and harm.
The twilight came with sky of gold—
And curtaining of night—
And then a sudden cry rang out,
“A ship—the ship in sight!”
And lo!—tall masts grew visible
Within the fading light.
Near and more near the ship came on,
With all her broad sails spread—
The night grew thick, but a phantom light
Around her path was shed,
91
And the gazers shuddered as on she came,
For against the wind she sped.
They saw by the dim and baleful glare
Around that voyager thrown,
The upright forms of the well known crew,
As pale and fixed as stone—
And they called to them, but no sound came back,
Save the echoed cry alone.
The fearful stranger-youth was there,
And clasped in his embrace,
The pale and passing sorrowful
Gazed wildly in his face;—
Like one who had been wakened from
The silent burial-place.
A shudder ran along the crowd—
And a holy man knelt there,
On the wet sea-sand, and offered up
A faint and trembling prayer,
That God would shield his people from
The Spirits of the air!
And lo!—the vision passed away—
The Spectre Ship—the crew—
For against the wind she sped.
They saw by the dim and baleful glare
Around that voyager thrown,
The upright forms of the well known crew,
As pale and fixed as stone—
And they called to them, but no sound came back,
Save the echoed cry alone.
The fearful stranger-youth was there,
And clasped in his embrace,
The pale and passing sorrowful
Gazed wildly in his face;—
Like one who had been wakened from
The silent burial-place.
A shudder ran along the crowd—
And a holy man knelt there,
On the wet sea-sand, and offered up
A faint and trembling prayer,
That God would shield his people from
The Spirits of the air!
And lo!—the vision passed away—
The Spectre Ship—the crew—
92
The stranger and his pallid bride,
Departed from their view;
And nought was left upon the waves
Beneath the arching blue.
It passed away—that vision strange—
Forever from their sight,—
Yet, long shall Naumkeag's annals tell
The story of that night—
The phantom-bark—the ghostly crew—
The pale, encircling light.
Departed from their view;
And nought was left upon the waves
Beneath the arching blue.
It passed away—that vision strange—
Forever from their sight,—
Yet, long shall Naumkeag's annals tell
The story of that night—
The phantom-bark—the ghostly crew—
The pale, encircling light.
| THE SPECTRE SHIP. Legends of New-England | |