The Book of Dreams and Ghosts by Andrew Lang (the lemonade war series TXT) 📕

This pleasing anecdote rests on what is called nautical evidence, which, for reasons inexplicable to me, was (in these matters) distrusted by Sir Walter Scott.

More Ghosts with a Purpose.  Ticonderoga.  The Beresford Ghost.  Sources of Evidence.  The Family Version.  A New Old-Fashioned Ghost.  Half-past One o’clock.  Put out the Light!

The ghost in the following famous tale had a purpose.  He was a Highland ghost, a Campbell, and desired vengeance on a Macniven, who murdered him.  The ghost, practically, “cried Cruachan,” and tried to rouse the clan.  Failing in this, owing to Inverawe’s loyalty to his oath, the ghost uttered a prophecy.

The tale is given in the words of Miss Elspeth Campbell, who collected it at Inverawe from a Highland narrator.  She adds a curious supplementary tradition in the Argyle family.

It was one evening in the summer of the year 1755 that Campbell of Inverawe {157} was on Cruachan hill side.  He was startled by seeing a man coming towards him at full speed; a man ragged, bleeding, and evidently suffering agonies of terror.  “The avengers of blood are on my track, Oh, save me!” the poor wretch managed to gasp out.  Inverawe, filled with pity for the miserable man, swore “By the word of an Inverawe which never failed friend or foe yet” to save him.

Inverawe then led the stranger to the secret cave on Cruachan hill side.

None knew of this cave but the laird of Inverawe himself, as the secret was most carefully kept and had been handed down from father to son for many generations.  The entrance was small, and no one passing would for an instant suspect it to be other than a tod’s hole, {158a} but within were fair-sized rooms, one containing a well of the purest spring water.  It is said that Wallace and Bruce had made use of this cave in earlier days.

Here Inverawe left his guest.  The man was so overcome by terror that he clung on to Inverawe’s plaid, {158b} imploring him not to leave him alone.  Inverawe was filled with disgust at this cowardly conduct, and already almost repented having plighted his word to save such a worthless creature.

On Inverawe’s return home he found a man in a state of great excitement waiting to see him.  This man informed him of the murder of his (Inverawe’s) foster-brother by one Macniven.  “We have,” said he, “tracked the murderer to within a short distance of this place, and I am here to warn you in case he should seek your protection.”  Inverawe turned pale and remained silent, not knowing what answer to give.  The man, knowing the love that subsisted between the foster-brothers, thought this silence arose from grief alone, and left the house to pursue the search for Macniven further.

The compassion Inverawe felt for the trembling man he had left in the cave turned to hate when he thought of his beloved foster-brother murdered; but as he had plighted his word to save him, save him he must and would.  As soon, therefore, as night fell he went to the cave with food, and promised to return with more the next day.

Thoroughly worn out, as soon as he reached home he retired to rest, but sleep he could not.  So taking up a book he began to read.  A shadow fell across the page.  He looked up and saw his foster-brother standing by the bedside.  But, oh, how changed!  His fair hair clotted with blood; his face pale and drawn, and his garments all gory.  He uttered the following words: “Inverawe, shield not the murderer; blood must flow for blood,” and then faded away out of sight.

In spite of the spirit’s commands, Inverawe remained true to his promise, and returned next day to Macniven with fresh provisions.  That night his foster-brother again appeared to him uttering the same warning: “Inverawe, Inverawe, shield not the murderer; blood must flow for blood”.  At daybreak Inverawe hurried off to the cave, and said to Macniven: “I can shield you no longer; you must escape as best you can”.  Inverawe now hoped to receive no further visit from the vengeful spirit.  In this he was disappointed, for at the usual hour the ghost appeared, and in anger said, “I have warned you once, I have warned you twice; it is too late now.  We shall meet again at TICONDEROGA.”

Inverawe rose before dawn and went straight to the cave.  Macniven was gone!

Inverawe saw no more of the ghost, but the adventure left him a gloomy, melancholy man.  Many a time he would wander on Cruachan hill side, brooding over his vision, and people passing him would see the far-away look in his eyes, and would say one to the other: “The puir laird, he is aye thinking on him that is gone”.  Only his dearest friends knew the cause of his melancholy.

In 1756 the war between the English and French in America broke out.  The 42nd regiment embarked, and landed at New York in June of that year.  Campbell of Inverawe was a major in the regiment.  The lieut.-colonel was Francis Grant.  From New York the 42nd proceeded to Albany, where the regiment remained inactive till the spring of 1757.  One evening when the 42nd were still quartered at this place, Inverawe asked the colonel “if he had ever heard of a place called Ticonderoga”. {160}  Colonel Grant replied he had never heard the name before.  Inverawe then told his story.  Most of the officers were present at the time; some were impressed, others were inclined to look upon the whole thing as a joke, but seeing how very much disturbed Inverawe was about it all, even the most unbelieving refrained from bantering him.

In 1758 an expedition was to be directed against Ticonderoga, on Lake George, a fort erected by the French.  The Highlanders were to form part of this expedition.  The force was under Major-General Abercromby.

Ticonderoga was called by the French St. Louis [really “Fort Carillon”], and Inverawe knew it by no other name.  One of the officers told Colonel Grant that the Indian name of the place was Ticonderoga.  Grant, remembering Campbell’s story, said: “For God’s sake don’t let Campbell know this, or harm will come of it”.

The troops embarked on Lake George and landed without opposition near the extremity of the lake early in July.  They marched from there, through woods, upon Ticonderoga, having had one successful skirmish with the enemy, driving them back with considerable loss.  Lord Howe was killed in this engagement.

On the 10th of July the assault was directed to be commenced by the picquets. {162}  The Grenadiers were to follow, supported by the battalions and reserves.  The Highlanders and 55th regiment formed the reserve.

In vain the troops attempted to force their way through the abbatis, they themselves being exposed to a heavy artillery and musket fire from an enemy well under cover.  The Highlanders could no longer be restrained, and rushed forward from the reserve, cutting and carving their way through trees and other obstacles with their claymores.  The deadly fire still continued from the fort.  As no ladders had been provided for scaling the breastwork, the soldiers climbed on to one another’s shoulders, and made holes for their feet in the face of the work with their swords and bayonets, but as soon as a man reached the top he was thrown down.  Captain John Campbell and a few men succeeded at last in forcing their way over the breastworks, but were immediately cut down.

After a long and desperate struggle, lasting in fact nearly four hours, General Abercromby gave orders for a retreat.  The troops could hardly be prevailed upon to retire, and it was not till the order had been given for the third time that the Highlanders withdrew from the hopeless encounter.  The loss sustained by the regiment was as follows: eight officers, nine sergeants and 297 men killed; seventeen officers, ten sergeants and 306 men wounded.

Inverawe, after having fought with the greatest courage, received at length his death wound.  Colonel Grant hastened to the dying man’s side, who looked reproachfully at him, and said: “You deceived me; this is Ticonderoga, for I have seen him”.  Inverawe never spoke again.  Inverawe’s son, an officer in the same regiment, also lost his life at Ticonderoga.

On the very day that these events were happening in far-away America, two ladies, Miss Campbell of Ederein and her sister, were walking from Kilmalieu to Inveraray, and had reached the then new bridge over the Aray.  One of them happened to look up at the sky.  She gave a call to her sister to look also.  They both of them saw in the sky what looked like a siege going on.  They saw the different regiments with their colours, and recognised many of their friends among the Highlanders.  They saw Inverawe and his son fall, and other men whom they knew.  When they reached Inveraray they told all their friends of the vision they had just seen.  They also took down the names of those they had seen fall, and the time and date of the occurrence.  The well-known Danish physician, Sir William Hart, was, together with an Englishman and a servant, walking round the Castle of Inveraray.  These men saw the same phenomena, and confirmed the statements made by the two ladies.  Weeks after the gazette corroborated their statements in its account of the attempt made on Ticonderoga.  Every detail was correct in the vision, down to the actual number of the killed and wounded.

But there was sorrow throughout Argyll long before the gazette appeared.

* * * * *

We now give the best attainable version of a yet more famous legend, “The Tyrone Ghost”.

The literary history of “The Tyrone Ghost” is curious.  In 1802 Scott used the tale as the foundation of his ballad, The Eve of St. John, and referred to the tradition of a noble Irish family in a note.  In 1858 the subject was discussed in Notes and Queries.  A reference was given to Lyon’s privately printed Grand Juries of Westmeath from 1751.  The version from that rare work, a version dated “Dublin, August, 1802,” was published in Notes and Queries of 24th July, 1858.  In December, 1896, a member of the Beresford family published in The Nines (a journal of the Wiltshire regiment), the account which follows, derived from a MS. at Curraghmore, written by Lady Betty Cobbe, granddaughter of the ghost-seer, Lady Beresford.  The writer in The Nines remembers Lady Betty.  The account of 1802 is clearly derived from the Curraghmore MS., but omits dates; calls Sir Tristram Beresford “Sir Marcus “; leaves out the visit to Gill Hall, where the ghost appeared, and substitutes blanks for the names of persons concerned.  Otherwise the differences in the two versions are mainly verbal.

“There is at Curraghmore, the seat of Lord Waterford, in Ireland, a manuscript account of the tale, such as it was originally received and implicitly believed in by the children and grandchildren of the lady to whom Lord Tyrone is supposed to have made the supernatural appearance after death.  The account was written by Lady Betty Cobbe, the youngest daughter of Marcus, Earl of Tyrone, and granddaughter of Nicola S., Lady Beresford.  She lived to a good old age, in full use of all her faculties, both of body and mind.  I can myself remember her, for when a boy I passed through Bath on a journey with my mother, and we went to her house there, and had luncheon.  She appeared to my juvenile imagination a very appropriate person to revise and transmit such a tale, and fully adapted to do ample justice to her subject-matter.  It never has been doubted in the family that she received the