SECOND SIGHT

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 703, 1 July 1929, Page 13

SECOND SIGHT

MEMORIES OF A MARQUIS SENTRY’S BLACK EYE As head of an ancient clan, the Marquis of Huntly might be expected to have something to say of the traditional Scottish gift of “second sight." It seems quite common in his family. He tells several stories in a recent book of reminiscences. Lady Huntly saw her future husband in a vision before they had met. Lord Huntly’s mother had a similar vision of her younger son, less happy of omen, for at the moment when she saw him he was going down with H.M.S. Captain, and the author tells the following story of his own experience:—

“An old friend of ours in Scotland had been ill. . . We had retired to rest on a Saturday night at Orton, and I was dozing off to sleep, when I saw a bright light on the wall opposite, and my Scotch friend vividly depicted within it. He advanced toward us, and kissed my wife’s hand. So clearly did he reveal himself that I extended my hand to welcome him. “I went to London by an early train on . . . Monday, and on opening my newspaper in the railway carriage the first thing I saw was the announcement that A-—. had passed away suddenly at his place in Scotland on the previous Saturday afternoon.” Lord Huntly’s memories go back a long way, and are always interesting Those of some of his friends go back even further. Here is one told him by Sir John Astley of a court-martial in the Crimea. An English soldier was accused of assaulting a French sentry:—

“The complainant appeared with a black eye, and swore that, without provocation, the accused had come up to him while on duty as sentry, and, after being challenged, had hit him. Being asked what explanation he had to give, the Englishman, in no way abashed, gave evidence. “I was coming back to camp. It w-as pretty dark, and I lost my way and blundered into the French lines, when this ’ere bloke, he calls out: ‘Qui va la?’ ‘Je,’ says I, knowing the langwidge. 'Ou est votre lanterne?’ says he. ‘Sortie,’ says I. ‘Comment,’ says he. ‘Come on,’ says I, and lup and gave him that “dub” in his left skylight!” “No one could help laughing, and none more than the French officer, who suggested that if the wanderer apologised the complainant would be satisfied, and the mate said, ‘They shook hands, and we entered ‘mistaken identity’ on the charge sheet, and saw ‘Tommy’ and ‘Frenchie’ walk off arm-in-arm to the canteen.” The whole book is a varied and diverting collection of equally interesting stories.