Bluenose Ghosts (29 page)

In his book,
Exploring the Supernatural
, R. S. Lambert tells about an event which took place in Sydney in 1785. After I had read it, Miss Eva Worgan of Sydney told a story so similar that I thought it must be a variant of the Lambert tale. It seems now to have been an entirely different incident, for Miss Worgan said it happened in 1873 or thereabouts. She had often heard it told by her father, Capt. Worgan, R.N., and her mother, both of whom knew many of the officers stationed there, and had heard it first hand. I later called her sisters in Halifax, and found that one of them knew the story well as it had been told in their home. None, however, could recall the name of the officer whose appearance caused such consternation.

“The Military Barracks used to be at the old Victoria Park. One of the officers stationed there at the time of our story was called to England to see somebody who was very ill and, while there, he took sick himself and died. On the night that he died, his brother officers were sitting having dinner when this man walked down the stairs, passed the table, and went into an adjoining room. They looked at one another spellbound and finally one of them said, ‘That's So and So. Did you notice the look on his face?' Everybody in the officers' mess saw him, and they all agreed it was this man.

“In those days news was slow in arriving but they learned in time of his death which, upon further inquiry, had taken place at the exact time when he had been seen passing through the mess.”

Another story, also from Cape Breton was given to me by Mrs. Ruth Metcalfe. “A young couple in their thirties lived at Reserve Mines. She was a tall and lovely lady of highland Scottish birth. He was a miner named John McNeil. In those days it was the custom for cows to be pastured on common land and one summer afternoon Mrs. McNeil started out to bring their cow home. She was dressed in a beautiful black silk dress with a white apron which was the usual costume for that class of highland woman. She had not gone far when she met a neighbour and they walked together, enjoying the early afternoon sun as old friends do who have met unexpectedly. Their conversation was interrupted by Mrs. McNeil who said with surprise, ‘There's John. I'll go for the cow later,' and she left to go to her home and husband.

“I'm going for my cow, so I'll bring yours home too, Lizzie,' her neighbour said, and she did.

“When the neighbour came back with the two cows she stopped first at her own home, and was surprised to see her husband there, for he was not expected for some time.

“‘Why are you home so early?' she said.

“‘John McNeil was killed in the mine this afternoon,' he replied. When she recovered from the shock she asked the time of the accident, remembering how his wife had looked towards her house and how surprised she had been to see her husband there. She realized then of course that he had appeared at the moment of his death.”

An Ellershouse man had to stop his car one day when a friend appeared on the road either before or at the time of his death at distant Springhill, and Mr. Jim Apt of Victoria Beach saw a man and learned later that he had been murdered in another place and at about the same time.

Now let us run up to New Brunswick and see what a man from Newcastle has to say. “When I came here in 1916 there was a man had lived here I never saw in my life, Tommy Taylor. I was sitting down in John's father's kitchen, where he often used to visit, and I riz my eyes up and this man was looking in the window. I sez to John's father, ‘Look at the man looking in the window.' He looked up then and said, ‘That's Tommy Taylor. When did he come home?' He went out the door and he sez, ‘Come in Tommy.' There wasn't a soul around. He sez to me, ‘There's something happened Tommy Taylor.' I sez, ‘Where is Tommy?' He sez, ‘He's in the asylum.' Well, Tommy had died all right and they brought his body home next day. I went to see him and I sez, ‘Yes, that's the man I seen looking in the window!”

Also from Newcastle: “My wife seen me coming in the main road. She seen me coming with a parcel on my back and a little stick. The house was on the top of a hill. She seen me coming to the door and she run to open it and there was nothing there. An hour after, she seen me coming again, and this time it was me. I wasn't there at all the first time. We could never understand it.” Then he added an observation about ghosts in general.

“A ghost don't appeal to anybody if he don't need anything, but if you can help him, you can see him.”

I picked the next story up at the Pictou County Exhibition. At Taylor's Stone House I had met Mr. and Mrs. Ernest Ferguson of Baie Comeau. When they saw me later at the Exhibition and also a Pictonian, Mr. Scott, they thought there might be an interesting exchange of stories. We were therefore introduced and stood in a little group talking. The following went down in my notebook: It was experienced by Mr. James Simon Fraser, a hardware merchant of New Glasgow, who had a summer place at Melmerby Beach. His wife was staying there at the time, and he joined her for weekends. A man named Kelly, whose first name Mr. Scott had forgotten, lived at King's Head, a mile from the beach, and Mr. Fraser knew him well.

In the late summer we often have what we call an August gale. Mr. Fraser was preparing for his weekly trip when the wind came up and the rain fell in torrents. He did not let this deter him, but hitched his horse to his light buggy and, beneath the waterproof top that covered it, got what shelter he could. It was dark as he drove along and his one lantern glimmered faintly. There were frequent lightning flashes and in this sudden light he saw Kelly walking up the road towards him, dressed in his fisherman's clothes. Mr. Fraser stopped his horse and leaned out to speak to him but, although Mr. Kelly walked close to the carriage and looked Mr. Fraser in the eye, he said nothing, but continued on his way. This was so unexpected, and so unlike Kelly, that Mr. Fraser remarked upon the event to his wife soon after he got in. It was then eleven-thirty.

The following morning the Frasers were late in rising, but they had no sooner made their appearance than they were told that Kelly had disappeared. No one had seen him since the previous day, Saturday, when he went out fishing.

“I've seen him since then,” Mr. Fraser said. “I saw him last night walking up the road.” However that night, the one after Mr. Fraser had seen him, they found his body. By its condition they knew he had been drowned from his boat early Saturday afternoon. The Frasers were so taken aback by the strange occurrence that they said nothing more about it for many years. They finally told it to Mr. Scott's mother, and he kindly passed it on to me.

On the southwestern shore at Boutilier's Point a woman said, “I was at a party when I was in my late teens and I had to walk most of the way from Oakland to Mahone Bay alone. A friend walked with me until I saw a girl ahead in a fresh white dress and I recognized her at once. I told my friend I would be all right now and I would keep close behind her, so he left me and I kept the girl in sight, but suddenly she disappeared. I wasn't frightened because I was sure she was somebody I knew going home just as I was doing. I even stopped and looked under boards on the shore to make sure she wasn't hiding. There was no sign of her anywhere and I was puzzled. When I checked up, I found she hadn't been on that road at all. I told my father and he shook his head. He said my description reminded him of a young girl who had been drowned just across the road from the Church of England and had been seen several times at that place. So which girl it was, a living or a dead one, I don't know, but I certainly saw someone.”

Now from Victoria Beach: “One bright moonlight night when there was snow on the ground four of us were walking towards the Moose Hollow Bridge when I saw a woman in white coming towards me with a white sheet over her head. She was only about twelve feet away when I turned to speak to the men behind me and, when I looked ahead of me again, she was no longer there, and there were no tracks in the snow. If it had just been me who'd seen her I might have thought I'd imagined it, but two of us saw her and two didn't. She had been walking easy.”

We go now from the bright light of the moon to the broad light of day. “It happened about forty-five years ago that a man was walking from Herring Cove to Pennant. It was about five o'clock on a Sunday in May. The day was fine and the atmosphere was clear. Half a mile from Portuguese Cove a woman stood in front of him and walked a quarter of a mile side by side with him. He spoke to her and got no answer and she disappeared as suddenly as she had come. He never knew who she was or why she had come there at that time.”

On another fine Sunday a few years ago Mr. and Mrs. Bagnall and their son set out from Glace Bay for Gabarus. It was a beautiful day, free of fog, and so clear that every leaf on every tree stood out distinctly. As they drew near their destination they saw a familiar figure coming towards them, dressed in his customary clothes which included a green pea jacket, peaked cap, and rubber boots turned down. His wife said, “Who is that?” and her husband told her. There was no hesitation because Mr. Bagnall had grown up on a part of this man's land. The driver's arm was resting on the top of the turned-down window and they were so close that they could easily have touched him. When Mr. Bagnall told his wife who it was she said, “Yes, I thought so, but that man is dead.”

“I know it,” he replied, and reflected that if he had been alive he would have stopped and spoken to them. Instead he seemed quite unaware of them, never raising his eyes nor looking at them. After they got by they talked it over and recalled that this man had a nephew who might look enough like him for a mistake to be made, and possibly he might be wearing his uncle's clothes. To settle the matter they called the nephew's sister but she quickly dispelled any such idea. “Would he have any resemblance to your uncle?” they asked.

“That's foolish,” she said. “He's only thirty-five and our uncle was seventy-five.” They realized that she was right, but why he had appeared to them in broad daylight they could not imagine. And for those who say that one or two people, but never three, may see a ghost, this theory is again refuted.

About four years ago the family in our previous story lost a son, a doctor, by death. It was, of course a grievous blow. His mother said, “One day Mr. Bagnall and I were sitting reading when I felt somebody close beside me. I put my book down and looked up, and my son was standing by the oil stove, the one who had died. I looked behind me and Mr. Bagnall was still reading, not realizing what was happening, and I made no sound. When I looked back my son ran his hand through his hair as he often did, and smiled at me. He did this twice, smiling each time. I was a different woman after that.” I have often noticed in our stories how the dead make themselves known beyond any doubt by some article of wearing apparel or a characteristic gesture. The running of his hand through his hair was evidently something that she always connected with him. Unlike Jack Carson's appearance to his mother, this son did not speak. His happy face was sufficient to assure her that grief was superfluous.

Clothes seem so important in our Nova Scotia stories that this description from Richard Hartlan of South East Passage cannot be ignored. He had no idea who the man was or why he appeared to him one “starlit night about ten o'clock. I could put me hand onto him when he got up close. He had a pair of white duck pants on, a black waistcoat, and a pair of fishin' boots. I just cast me eyes down, and when I looked up he was gone.”

What a useful thing snow is to prove that one has seen a ghost. Mr. Edward Gallagher, retired lightkeeper at Chebucto Head, said, “We were fishing at Sambro and we went to a pie social. It was a moonlight night and there was snow on the ground. Two hundred yards from Sandy Cove road there is a clear bit and, as we were walking home from the pie social, we saw a fellow ahead of us all dressed in black. I said, ‘There's one of the Finks or Nickersons, we'll catch him up.' There is a place called Clay Hill where chains have been heard rattling, boats have rowed up by the Head, and lights have been seen. It was always thought these things meant pirate money was buried there.

“When this man got to the top of Clay Hill he went off into the bushes. We could hear him but we couldn't see him. I said, ‘Let's go and find him,' but the other fellows wouldn't go. Next day it blew a gale so we didn't go fishing, and I was curious about what we'd seen. No new snow had fallen and, although I knew exactly where he had turned in from the road, there wasn't a footmark. Another time I saw a light on the top of Clay Hill like a candle, but when I went up to investigate there was nothing there.”

The Harclan estate, you will remember, was at the eastern approach of Halifax Harbour and, in the old days, it had a steep bank close by the sea. Mr. Richard Hartlan said, “My father was settin' by the windy a-lookin' along the public road and he sees a man comin' towards the house and he watched him a-comin'. He didn't come to the door. He just went around the house and when he did that my father went out and watched him goin'. There's a big bank where we live and he went over to the edge of the bank and just kept on goin'. My father said, ‘That man's killed himself,' but when he looked over the top of the bank there was nothing there at all. If he'd been real, his body would have been lyin' on the rocks below.”

The next apparition was seen by four people, and I heard about it at Tantallon. “There were four men in a boat, Lester my son, Doc Fader, James Boutilier, and one other. They had been on a trouting trip and they were coming down Big Indian Lake in a boat. One of them faced ahead and he said, ‘Look, what's that on the dam?' They put down their oars and looked, and they all saw a man in a rubber coat and a sou'wester walking along the dam and, when they got almost to where he was standing, he was gone. They landed and could find no sign of him although the four men had all seen him plainly. They found out later that the same thing had happened to one of the operators there and, when he saw the man, he was just as puzzled and investigated and couldn't find a thing. The dam goes right out to nothing, so there is nowhere for a man to go. They kept it quiet for a long time till somebody else reported it, and then they told what they had seen. It came out then that two women and three men had been drowned at that place quite a while before, so they always thought that might be one of them. They could never forget it.”