Εικόνες σελίδας
PDF
Ηλεκτρ. έκδοση

seeking to dive into futurity, and from any dubious appearances to raise up a singular superstructure of coming weal or woe. The mariner at our belm looked for awhile, with a stedfast eye, on the sky and the oceanand I heard him mutter something which resembled a prayer-the deity to which it was addressed is one unacknowledged by the creed of the church, so I shall not name him. This maritime intercession seemed to inspire him with hope, or abate his fear, and I presently overheard him hold a strange kind of converse with himself. I never like this silence of the sea-it bodes no good-the evil spirit is gathering his strength-we shall have him singing among the afflicted waters soon. Yon wild fowl, a sea vulture I think, which sits pluming and decking her wings midmast high -I would rather the foul bird would hatch her young in my hammock than sit on such an ominous place. She looks too, as if she saw a coming storm-she smells the tempest afar off-and stretches her long sooty neck to call her comrades to a feast soon to be spread of drowned corses.'

[ocr errors]

"He was now joined by another seaman-but superstition only gained an accesssion of strength by this community of minds. Ah, Josiah Corsock,' said he to the helmsman, 'wherefore shot ye not you foul bird, so that the breeze now charmed up in the air might have been loosened? the evil creature is flown and away; but when the storm snaps our masts, and the shriek of drowning men is heard, she will return with her companions, and merrily will they feast on our floating carcases wherefore shot ye not the fiend-fowl?' Aye, aye, Symie Strachan,' said the helmsman; your wisdom in omens is small-there is a curse on him that slays the evil bird -a curse from which he can never escape. But I think now I have something of the cannie Northumberland skill which can charm up a gentle bit breeze. I learned it from a tried hand and sure, old Frank Fenwick, of Monk-Wearmouth. He had it from Lapland, where the witches bottle up fair winds and foul, and sell them by the dozen. I have seen something of the kind myself. So saying, Josiah began to whistle a kind of rude invocation, which had some affinity to

melody-I know not what influence
it might have in arousing the lag-
gard and dormant breeze. I think,'
said he, I hear the rustling of the
wings of the coming wind-and ob-
serve a darker curl on the distant wa-.
ters-I shall not soon cease to have
faith in the impulse which a well-
timed whistle has on that slumber-
ing menial of us
poor mariners.'

Truly, Josiah,' said his companion, to rouse up the east wind is to unloosen a fiend,. whose wrath may cost your wisdom some trouble to allay-a dangerous servant he may soon prove himself.-Let sleeping dogs lie, said the daft man, when he saw the dead hound before him. To whistle on the breeze is, no doubt, an old, and may be a prudent expedient-but give a quaver too much, and instead of a soft and favourable wind, down comes the tempest as grim as a December midnight-up flash the waters midmast high; and what man's wit will save us then, I trow? Not that I am wholly averse to using one's honest skill to make the breeze diligent-and, through the strength of salt and water, I shall even venture on a sort of subdued whistle-the demon of the blast can never wax rebellious for a moderate invocation.' And he whistled a low, wild, and abrupt melody, which rang around the ship with a sough and a swell resembling the desultory music which the swelling tide makes among the shells and pebbles on the shore of Solway.

"The mariners stood listening to his superstitious invocation, with an awe worthy of a less visionary cause.

The wind will waken presently,' said one sailor, in a low voice- I never heard our helmsman whistle but a blast followed.' 'Look! look!' said another mariner, the curled-headed billows begin to leap and swell around us-the sea fowl begin to scream, and the sky to lower; we shall go snoring away on our course with a wetted sail, I'll warrant you.' With a wetted sail!' exclaimed an old seaman, with a white head, and a face scarred and grained by sun and storm like the bark of an oak-tree-' aye, aye, young man, see that yon pennon, fluttering so gaily and so gaudy at the mast-head, gets not a steeping in the surge-and a greater mar

vel has happened, than that we should sleep in fifteen fathom of water, with a shirt for a shroud.' I'll tell ye, lads,' said another seaman, whose storm-worn face and grey head told that he was a coeval with the last speaker; if we had a sense of religion, and a care for our souls, we should bind our helmsman hand and heel, and cast him as an offering of atonement into these waters. The ship which he sails in never comes safe to port-he and his fellow mariners meet troubles on the deep which no other men do-storms come on them by day, and dismal shapes are seen by night hovering on the sea on the ship's deck-on the shrouds and on the head of the mast. I have heard it said, that sleep is not to him what sleep is to other men; that something is ever present to his eye, shut or open. Even look at him now-see, he co

vers his right hand with the palm of his left, lest man should see blood upon it, which no water can wash out. Cursed was the hour in which I was tempted from my warm hearth and sweet children, to sail on the unstable waters with such a darethe-divinity as Josiah Corsock.'Some mariners laughed, and some looked grave, at this piece of confidential biography-meanwhile the ship moved slowly onwards over the smooth water. The slumbering breeze seemed to excite a propensity to mintrelsy; for one of the seamen seated himself on the prow, and chaunted a maritime song, many of which are scattered about our coasts-for every shipwreck there is a ballad, and for the drowning of every sailor there is a song, at least it is so in Scotlandand the song which was now sung seemed of northern extraction.

COME, MY BONNIE BARK.

1.

O come, my bonnie bark,
O'er the waves let us go,
With thy neck like the swan,
And thy wings like the snow-
Spread thy plumes to the wind,
For a gentle one soon
Maun welcome us home,

Ere the wane of the moon.

2.

The proud oak that built thee
Was nursed in the dew
Where my gentle one dwells,
And stately it grew.

I hew'd its beauty down;
Now it swims on the sea,
And wafts spice and perfume,
My fair one, to thee.

3.
O sweet, sweet's her voice,
As a low warbled tune;
And sweet, sweet her lips,
Like the rose-bud of June.

She looks to sea and sighs,
As the foamy wave flows,
And treads on men's strength,
As in glory she goes.

4.

O haste, my bonnie bark,

O'er the waves let us bound, As the deer from the horn,

Or the hare from the hound. Pluck down thy white plumes, Sink thy keel in the sand, Whene'er ye see my love,

And the wave of her hand.

[ocr errors]

<< Merry be your heart,' said a brother mariner; that sweet old song I have not heard sung for seven years, and the kind lad that wrote it lies at the bottom of a sunny bay at Bermuda-he went down in the Bonnie Lass o' Livistone. Were it not for the lowering of the cloud, and the increasing swell of the sea, I

would sing you another of his songs; and yet I see not why a darkening sky and an agitated ocean should make us miserable; there's old Martin Mowat never sings till the fire and the waves are flashing-though I cannot say I covet so wild a chorus for any minstrelsy of mine. So here goes my song, and a gallant one it is.

THE TREE THAT BUILT MY BONNIE BARK.·

1.

The tree that built my bonnie bark
Grew in a haunted glen,

In the west nook of an old kirk-yard,
Among the bones of men-
Among the bones of men, my lads,
And the axe that laid it low

Was temper'd in a dead man's blood,
And I dread no winds that blow.

2.

Look on yon cloud, an old man said,
No larger than my hand;

And hearken to that sweeping blast,
That shakes the sea and land-
That shakes the sea and land, my lads,
And makes the waters foam;

A wise man when he looks on these
Would wish himself at home.

3.

When I was late on Lapland's shore,
I bought a gentle gale,

That sung around me on the sea,
And murmur'd in my sail ;—

That murmur'd in my milk-white sail,

With a friendly voice, and low:

A man who sails a charmed ship
Need fear no blasts that blow.

4.

The hand which holds the winds at will
Will guide us while we roam:

When stormy heaven is burning bright,
And the wild sea in a foam

And the wild sea in a foam, my lads,
While, sobbing sad and low,
The mother wails her sailor-boy
As she hears the tempest blow.

"During the singing of this maritime ditty, the sun's red disk descended to the surface of the sea, and threw a long, and wide, and wavering glow on the boundless expanse of undulating water. The eye could find no limit, no resting-place, save in the distant and surrounding sky, which bent down till it touched the ocean on all sides. Not a ship not the wing of a sea-fowl, nor the shape or trace of living thing, appeared to give life to this expanse of

Ah!

immeasurable barrenness before us,
and all was so perfectly calm, that the
sound of our voices must have been
heard for half a league, had there
been an ear to hear us. As I stood
gazing on the sea, an old mariner
came to my side, and said,
thou glittering and faithless water—
to look on thee now spread out in
all thy loveliness-the heaven glow-
ing above thee-the air fanning thy
bosom with a breath like that of a
mother o'er her child-the sun be-

stowing on thee his parting blessing and thy waves answering all with a mute and gentle throb-ah! who would think, thou treacherous element, while they gazed on thy beauty, that the moment was at hand when one vast deep would call unto another; when the wildest wind of heaven would be loosened; when thy waves would run hollow and hillocky, like the dales of my native Derbyshire, and the foundering of ships would be as sport among thy chafed and foaming waters, and the cry of many creatures drowning would be as thy choicest music? It's not all gold that glitters, and there's deceit in smiles and in smooth water, says Ned Gavelock, of the green dale of Derby.'

"To the surmise of this southern seer, the sea gave response by a deeper undulation, and the breeze, scarce audible before, now seized upon our mainsail, making the masts quiver, and the vessel to bound forward, leaving a long furrow of foam behind. I foretold you of this,' said one of the mariners; <here comes the tempest, thick and threefold-never let man whistle on the wind again with unhallowed lips. How hollow the waves go, and how black drops the cloud! I am much of a mind to give our helmsman a duck in the herring-dub: who bade him, a known stabber in the dark, whistle on a wind for the welfare of honest men? All who wish to be buried in a green kirk-yard, let them drop on their knees now. If I am to be drowned-a matter far from doubtful-let me be sunk in day-light, in the bonnie sea of Solway, where it's a credit to find a winding-sheet, and not be dropt into a strange sea, like a shot star, in a wild latitude like this.' Cease this idle lamentation,' said the captain; have ye never seen a handful of wind thrown against the side of a ship before? Drowned in the sea of Solway, man! why ye may as well hope to be foundered in a mill-pond; and who would prefer such a goose-dub to the wide and glorious ocean? Out upon thee, sackless heart! A wet sail and a stiff breeze fill our pockets with red gold, and make our wives madams. Are ye afraid of a mouthful of water when it mops the deck, or a sprinkling of the sweet sea brine in your

faces? There's nought so dear to me as these curly and snowy-headed billows; they speed the voyage, my lads-and those who dread a rough wind and a foaming sea, let them embark in a milk-bowl, and be shipwrecked in a mill-dam.' All ap plauded the captain's speech, and every preparation was made for the reception of a bitter tempest.

[ocr errors]

I

"The wind, which had hitherto visited us in short and fitful gusts, now rushed earnestly on with a fierce and augmenting strength, and the ship went dashing away amid the wide and tumultuous waters with increasing celerity. The thunder, which for awhile had remained remote, now came nearer, and waxed louder; the lightning flashed brighter and brighter; the winds augmented, and the rain increased, and the darkness rendered all invisible, save a vast expanse of mountainous billows, over the foaming summits of which the fires streamed fearful and frequent. shuddered to behold the great deep heaving and boiling around me; to see the troubled heaven, and hear the howling tempest, and feel the frail work of man's right hand quaking and groaning beneath my feet. Something like an expression of agony escaped me. A mariner took me by the hand: Allan Lorburne, my bairn,' said he, be not troubled. Thou art as safe in the bosom of this frail bark, amid this agitated waste of water, as if thy foot were on the green hill of the Kier. Learn to look on what men call danger, with a steady and a tranquil eye. Fear slays more than the sword, and terror drowns more than the storm and the tempest. Lay thy hand to work, and do as I do, and we shall weather this wild tempest yet. What! man, wilt thou blench for a lapful of wind-scarce as much as would shake the ripe corn on thy father's ridges! we shall laugh at our night-fears when the jolly day dawns. Yarely, my younkers, yarely! I wish the knave's two lips who whistled up this ravenous blast may be doomed to cool dubs of liquid brimstone for such an unsonsie prank. I can tell ye, younkers, nought but the fresh free red heart of old Scottish oak would outlive this impetuous sea. And I'm no sure we'll have dry shirts long, for see the salt brine spouts

atween her ribs, and I hear her long timbers moaning. Yarely, younkers, yarely! Never mind the flood, though it foams a fathom deep o'er her decks; so long as we have sea room, the ship's as safe as though she had dropt anchor at the foot of Queensberrie; so yarely, my younkers, yarely.'

"With such like rude scraps of maritime consolation, other of the mariners sought to allay my fears; they all seemed to have apprehensions of their own, and surely some small degree of fear was not unreasonable, for the wind blew as if it was never to have the pleasure of sporting on the ocean again. Our sails too were rent, our masts shivered, the sea came spouting between the ribs, and the waves flashed frequently over us, making the vessel groan from stem to stern, while the storm caused the masts to quiver and bend like fishing rods. Midnight came, and passed, and morning at length appeared, and a faint stream of eastern light came grey and troubled upon us :-the storm abated nought-I saw fear written on the boldest face-even my predestinating friend said to me, in à low tone, Terrible are the ways of Jehovah on the deeps, and his wonders among the waves are fearful to look upon. I am not sure that all here have clean hands and pure hearts; lucre, lust, the pride of life, and envy, and murder, have come among us, and will pursue us to destruction. And I fear that our errand on the deep is an unwise one. Assuredly the slaying of the mighty ones of the sea, the leviathans of the polar deeps, which men call whales, is unacceptable on high, and woe and wrath are fast descending upon us.' As the mariner spoke, two cormorants stooped out of the storm, descended close to us, and sailing thrice around the ship, and looking earnestly down, uttered a loud scream as of joy, and then floated away amid the blast. The hearts of the crew. seemed to die within them at the sight. The wit of man,' said the predestinarian, 'cannot save us; there is a summons in a cormorant's croak from which the strength of men cannot deliver them. We have seen and heard the certain and sure tokens of destruction. Who has ever listened to their croak on the ocean,

and escaped? It was not for nought that my kind old wife laid her arms round my neck, and, with tears dropping, besought me to go no more down to the deeps. 'Sail not,' said she, on a Friday, nor seek to walk with the wings of wind on the wide and unfruitful ocean, in the company

[ocr errors]

of men who have done deeds of vio lence and wrong, and shed innocent blood.' Ah! I have neglected my dear dame's advice, and presump tuously dared the Divinity."

"The storm rolled suddenly away as a shroud from the eastern quarter of the sky; the sun raised his edge, red and stormy, above the trembling expanse of waters, and was welcomed with a general shout. Light is dear amidst the deepest peril and distress; and I never knew a sailor who was not cheered by the appearance of day, though the storm raged with the same remorseless fury. As the sun broke forth, and the clouds dispersed, a general cry of Land, land,' was raised, and I saw at a distance before us a multitude of savage and shaggy hills, lifting their craggy and pinnacled summits through an ocean of green verdure. Presently herds of cattle, and troops of deer, were seen; and the smoke ascending from the foot of the hills indicated the abodes of men. As we approached land, our perils increased. Our sails had long been rent to shreds-our masts, first shivered and splintered, were finally snapped by the board, and through the strained seams of the ship's sides the sea streamed in; nor seemed it within the power of man to abate it. We were now so near the land that a loud shout might have been heard; but the rocky and shaggy shore over which the sea dashed in vast and foaming undulation, throwing its salt spray upon the tops of the inland hills, threatened to dash us to pieces. But from this fate no seamanship could save us. The vessel struck on a low reef of rock which stretched along the base of a promontory-the shock made us reel, and some of the crew were swept overboard by the foaming deluge which poured fathom deep over our decks. Amid this scene of dismay, I could not help observing the captain; his agony seemed strange, unacquainted as I was then with the ways of mariners. He wept

« ΠροηγούμενηΣυνέχεια »