MY UNCLE BEN.

New Zealand Times, Volume XXXIII, Issue 5396, 13 July 1878, Page 1 (Supplement)

MY UNCLE BEN.

(From the Belyravia Annual.)

My Uncle Ben believe in ghosts 2 Of course he did ; he used to say:‘“No modern mansion of stucco and plaster for me ; give me a grand old house, all covered with ivy and hidden by tree?, whose walla aro hung with tapestry, and whose passages, extending from room to room, make the blood curdle with their gloom and length. Why; sir, there is something enlivening even in its decay : the dampness of its walls, and the cracks in the discolored ceilings, which only suggest to the vulgar mind ague and rheumatism, are evidences to me of its venerable age and respectability. The very mice that scamper up and down in the time-worn wainscoting give me a friendly greeting that! never meet in your ■•newfashioned houses, built for a race of mammon worshippers who have made their wealth out of shoddy and petroleum. “People mourn over the various ills that flesh is heir to, over the loss of money, lauds, health, and other insignicant things, but I mourn over the decline in the race of our ghosts—that is a real loss ; but what can you expect ?• They are •sneered at by foolish sceptics, and-insulteJ by dictionary-concocters like Walker; what decent spectre could feel any. respect for himself when people . call him ‘specter,?’ It is. enough to make him contemptible in his own eyes, and cause him to let himself out to be exhibited at an entertainment combining instruction, amusement, and horrors, for the small sum of one shilling per -head. What honest gentlemanly ghost, who lives iu a quiet respectable country house, would have any connection with the disreputable roving spirits that can be called up by any charlatan or imposter to play oa a cracked accordeon, to make, stupid jokes, to untie knots, and to rap out ghastly revelations from a dirty deal table,?. An old-fashioned, aristocratic pjiaatoin would despise the tricks of such nomadic, nonentities, as he wanders through the dreary corridors of the haunted house, or remains in his garret or cellar, think-, iag over the good old times when lie appeared with clanking chains to frighten weary wayfarers, and mako’the. awe-struck folks shudder as they sat in the old chimney corner. : “Think of the thrilling interest ho excited when he revealed to the true heir the place whore the money was concealed, that he had robbed him of before he left.this life for the land of shades. . Such a ghost was well worth knowing; and so was the good old scholarly phantom, who required you to speak to him in Latin, who appeared only -at the canonical hour of twelve, and who could not be got rid of with your fqrniture, but remained one of the fixtures of the ancient mansion.

“ To have such a ghost in your family is the only criterion of age and respectability; once a man'was known to be.a gentleman by the house he inhabited, by his carriage, and his coat-of-arms. how Mr. Solpmon Stubbs, the retired ‘cheesemonger, buys the house of the: ruined Marquis de Sang-Azur, and purchases a crest at the Heralds' College; he may purchase almost anything, may keep a dozen but ho cannot buy a ghost; it is only the ancient families that can keep that proof of respectability.” - - I really believe that Uncle Ben-valued the shade that was said to haunt his house far ; higher than all his more tangible: property. Nothing made him more angry than for.any one- to doubt its, existence ; he was always ready to break a lance with any sceptic on the subject, and to offer him a bed.in a haunted room ; and, although many of the younger members of the - family scoffed at the story, very few had the courage to accept the challenge. - • - - One winter night, when the wind was moaning round the chimney pots and through the' eayes, singing a dirge • among the leafless branches of the gaunt old spectral trees for the joys of the dead summer, the family was ; gathered round the fire in the drawing-room. Uncle Ben, who was standing with his back to the fire, said to his nephew,;—- “ I think,' Joe, we had better put on anotherlog of wood ; I don’t feel inclined- for bed, yet, andl;suppose -you youngsters intend to sit up half tho night, as usual.” “I dou’t moan,to turn in yet, for one, uncle,’! replied Joo. “ Tell us one of your ghost stories; ’ a regular: blood-curdler." “ Ah, Joe,” said the old man, “ I am afraid you are a thorough sceptic. You disbelieve in all supernatural appearances.” . , ‘ “ Certainly,” answered Joe, who was secretary to the Literary Debating Society in the little town of Mudborough, and who had written an.,essay; to prove the non-existence of everything, and that we are simply the creations of our own thoughts. 11 Certainly these impalpable spectres are only optical illusions , which ; the disordered condition of our weak physical organs brings before us.” “ I own you are a clever lad, Joe, but I , don’t care a button for your argument-;. I believe in ghosts- because I have seen them.” i- “Oh, I am open to conviction ; if you introduce me: to a boua fide ghost, I’ll give in. I believe only, in the things I understand.” “Joe, you have as little faith as a jew; and, if you only believe in what'you understand, your creed will he shorter than that of any man I know.” g- • : ■ “Can you give us any proof? Can you mention one instance in which the spectre'hah appeared to anyone'you know 1” “ A hundred, if you wish it,” said the old man. “ One. will do ; give us one genuine case, and we will believe.” ■ . “ I will; listen. The story that I am about to relate is au incident that happened to myself some twenty years ago, and for the truth of which I oah vouch; l ' ‘ ’ “.Well, proceed.” ■ “ I would give you the history of the spectre attached to this house, but that only appears to a favored few, aud I have'not yet seen it, although I have often enough hoard the noises it makes.” We should prefer a ghost that can he seen, if you have ever met witli one.” “You must understand' that the village iu which I lived, like many- others, possesses its spectral, visitor. About a hundred years ago au ancestor of mine started for London in his travelling carriage one evening about the latter end of June. He was an exceedingly irascible man, and as the coachman was not sufficiently quick in preparing the vehicle, he became much enraged, and used’exceedingly passionate language. Dor some time the coachman bure his abuse’patiently, but at last he also lost his temper, and struck'the old gentleman in the face. . “In those days everybody ware a sword ; and my ancestor, who was always too ready to draw, snatched his weapon from its sheath, and with one blow , severed the unfortunate man’s head from his body. “ Conscience-stricken at this fearful crime, and terrified , by the dread of its consequences, he gazed upon the headless body for a few mo.meats,, and then, being seized with a fit of apoplexy, was carried'into the houseby his servants, where he died iu a few hours.” Well,”-said Joe. although the story, is horrible .enough, it has nothing of the supernatural in it. It is quite possible that an angry old man may commit a murder, aud die -of fright.” , “ Yes, you are right; if the tale ended there, there would be nothing to doubt:; but what I am going to toll you, I am afraid, will be scoffed at by my sceptical young friends who

. disbelieve everything they do not see or hear.” ■ “ That's meant for me,” said Joe, with a. r laugh. “ Never mind, uncle ; go on with your story.” . • . • ■ “ Yes, my boy, now I come to the marvellous part. Every year, as the hands of the clock point to the hour of midnight, a travelling carriage, with four horses, driven by a headless coachman, leaves that village, and passes down the London-road.” , Ho must be clever if he oau see to drive •without his head,” interrupted thestill sceptical Joe.

“ That I cannot explain.; some ghost-seers say that it is possible for people in a clairvoyant state to read from the pit of the stomach ; at all events, a dead man may be possessed of faculties that we do not stand; for a man becomes considerably altered^ 1 when he is dead.” “ He does, I admit.” “ And if you allow that a dead man can drive at all, the small matter of a head more or less is of very little importance.”

“Just so.” “ You know that when a man dies, he becomes a spirit.”

“ That’s rum,” said Joe. “No, sir, it’s not rum, nor whisky either; and if you cannot listen to my story without endeavoring to turn- it into ridicule, I had better leave off,” replied Uncle Ben, who was as peppery as his ancestor,- “ Oh, pray go on, uncle,” exclaimed all the liteuers, “ we’ll try to keep Joe in order.” - “Well, as I was saying, this apparition madeits appearance once a year, as the clock was striking twelve. Many of the villagers had heard the tramp of horses and the rattling of wheels, the ghostly cortege passed by. Now and then some favored individual witnessed the headless driver, as he whipped his horses on towards London. But in all cases the coach passed too quickly for anyone to see whether the old gentleman was inside or not.”

“ And did no one ever see him ?” asked one cf the party. * . . .. . “ Yon shall hear. I will confess that, until the night when the incident which I am about to relate took place, I was as great an unbeliever as any of you, and always treated the whole account as an old woman’s tale, only fit to-frighten children. But one evening as I sat smoking with some old friends, one of them, a devout believer in everything ‘ supernatural, began to- talk about the family legend. I, as usual, threw ridicule upon the whole affair. Perhaps the good wine had inspired me with more than ordinary courage, perhaps not; at all events, I horrified some of the company by stating my intention of venturing out to wander down the road, and see if I could meet the phantom'cavalcade. I swore that if I did I would .ask the old gentleman to give me a lift, and offered to bet £IOO that the whole legend was a pack of lies.” “ And did you go ?” “Yes; although some of the more superstitious of the party tried to prevent me, I persevered, and wandered out into the night ready to meet with ghost or goblin.” “ And did you meet them 2” “Just as I emerged from the lane, the village clock chimed the three quarters, and I sat down upon a moss-covered milestone to wait and watch for the phantoms that come, like shadows—so depart”,, The night was chilly, and, as I wrapped my cloak around me, I began to shudder, as I wondered if, by any possibility, there could have been any truth in the strange story that I had heard. I had brought..with me,ja pocket-flask, so I treated myself to a nip to warm me, as I gradually .felt, dike the man in the play, that all my courage was oozing out at my fingers’ ends.” “Oh, nucle, afraid I” cried one of the bsys.

“ Yes,, my boy, I must confess it, for the moment I began to wish I was back in the comfortable old dining-room; but as the brandy warmed,me up X laughed at my fears, and determined to stay it out, careless of man or devil

“Suddenly the clock struck the hour of midnight. * “-As the last echoes died away, I heard, in the distance, a. sound like the noise of a car-, riage and ■ horses approaching. My blood began to curdle in my veins ; it came nearer and nearer ; and at last I saw a curious oldfashioned vehicle coming towards mo at a furious pace, “ For a moment I was speechless, but mustering all my courage, I cried out to the coachman to stop. He did so, and then, to my intense surprise, I saw that his head had been severed from the trunk. The ghastly head lay by his side on the coachbox, which perhaps accounted for his being able to hear my cries. “As the carriage stopped he sprang to the ground, flung open the door, let down the steps, and signed for me to enter. By this time my nerves were well braced up, and I jumped in without any fear. “ Upon entering the. coach and taking my seat, I found myself opposite an old gentleman who was dressed iu the costume of the commencement of the reign of George 111. Upon his head was an old-fashioned tie-wig, and in his hand was a naked sword which was still covered with blood. His face was of an unearthly pallor, and had upon it a soured, scared look, which did nob make him a very pleasant looking travelling companion, “ For some time wo sat face to face; and when I found that he did nob not appear to take the slightest notice- of me, I began to be more at my ease. At last I thought it would bo very uncivil to ride in the old gentleman’s coach without speaking to -him, and I also felt inclined, as I had never before met with a real ghost, to make his acquaintance. So I, by way of opening the conversation, said—- “ ‘ A splendid night, sir." ; “ The elderly party in the tie-wig made no reply. . “ *ln a hurry to get to town, I presume ? I am very .much obliged to you for the lift.* ' “Still.no answer. After this we both sat for some time in silence; the ghost seemed buried in thought, and I remained watching him with great interest. At last, the night beitg chilly for the time of year, and the coach paving about it a peculiar atmosphere like that of a vault, I began to feel extremely cold, and I drew out once more my flask of braudy. “The eyes of the old fellow lit up and twinkled with excitement, as ho saw me drink. I offered him the bottle ; he accepted it with a low-bow, and followed my example. '“.‘Thank you,’ said he ; ‘I have not tasted such good brandy for many a day.’ He then drew out his snuff-box, and offered me a pinch. Not daring to offend him, I took one, but I carefully let it drop on the floor of the carriage when hia eyes were turned away. “ After a second nip the old gentleman grew quite sociable, and began to talk ; he c •mplimeuted me upon my bravery in daring to stop his carriage. For just ono century, -he had, once a'year, driven along this road without meeting anyone who had the courage to ride with him and, through me, he would be rclecosod from all further punishment, which was to last until some brave fellow accompanied him in his drive, and conversed with him.

“ For ■ this release he heartily thanked mo, and said that, for my courage, I should be lucky in all my business speculations : and, as you are aware, he turned out a true prophet." “ Did you talk about anything else ?” asked Joe. - .

“ Oh, yes. My old friend had' as much curiosity as a woman,” said Uncle Ben, who, I need not say, was an inveterate bachelor. “ Wo. had a conversation about London. It appears that he was a great beau in his time, and he considered himself an enormous favorite" with the ladies. He wished to know who was the reigning toast, and- was much disgusted when I told him that toasts had gone out of fashion.” “ Was that all ?”

“ Oh, no. He told mo where the best civet and' pomatum were to.bo bought, and who was the best peruke-maker, and was still more surprised when I said that no one wore Wigs now, except lawyers mid coachmen. He asked if travelling was as dangerous as ever ; though ho confessed that ho had not been troubled much lately by tire knights of the road. He said that one rode up to stop him twenty-five years before, but the sight of ins headless driver had so frightened him that he put spuis to his horse, and disappeared as it he had twenty Bow-streot runners at his beds.” “ Did you not ask what became of him oh the other nights of the year, when ho was not out fordiis drive ?” , “ Ho said that, in company with the innumerable shades who wore condemned to occasionally revisit the earth for crimes committed during their past lives, he passed his time hovering round his old haunts, longing to become visible to his descendants, and to assist them in times of trouble, but unable to do so. As we conversed, the time rapidly slipped away, and at length the lamps of Loudon, became visible in the distance. After thanking the old man for his courtesy, I suggested that X might now alight, ns I had a great many friends in town that I should like to visit ; but be shook his head. “ 'No,no,’ said he, ‘we are at the mercy of my coachman ; lie has the entire command duling bar drive, and he will only stop at tho place where we picked you up. bee, ho is turning tho horses round ; wo are bound to l ° “ If the journey to town seemed short, the

journey back was still shorter. The old man .told me a hundred anecdotes of the people of his time. He had been a staunch Jacobite, and he told me all about the young Cavalier, and painted the March to Finchley in'words that did full justice to Hogarth’s picture. The statsmen, wits, and soldiers of the last century appeared to stand before me in the flesh, and X never enjoyed a drive better than the one I had with my ghostly ancestor. • “ As the cluck struck one, we pulled up at the edd moss-covered milestone where I first stopped the coach. Once more thanking me for the inestimable favor I had done himT the old gentleman signed to the driver to open the carriage door. I got out, and, as I turned round to bid him good-bye, I found that tho whole cavalcade—coach, horses, driver, and old gentleman—had vanished into thin air, and I was alone.” » “Alone ?” exclaimed his hearers.

“Yes,” said Uncle Ben ; “but the strange thing was that I became insensible, and knew nothing more until I was found the next morning lying beside the milestone with the empty brandy-flask in my hands.” “ I thought so. You emptied the bottle, fell asleep, and dreamed that you saw the phantom cortdge,” said Joe. “No sir, it was no dream. When I saw that carriage, and when I rode in it, I was as much awake as I am how ; and wlien you are as old as I am, and have seen as many wonders, you wilt be surprised at nothing, and will own that there are more thlugsin heaven and earth than are dreamed of in your philosophy.”