The shades of evening had begun to fall. A cool breeze made the
brightly lighted parlor more attractive than the porches, and there
the older ones gathered, while the mothers saw their weary little ones
to bed. The gentlemen had their newspapers, Mrs. Dinsmore and Mrs.
Travilla their fancy work, while the four young girls, in a group by
themselves, chatted and laughed together, discussing the sights and
scenes through which they had passed that day, and the bits of history
connected with them.
The captain presently threw aside his paper, and taking a vacant seat
on the sofa beside his daughter Grace, asked in tender tones, as he
passed an arm about her and drew her close, if she felt very weary from
the day's exertions.
"Not so very, papa dear," she answered, laying her head on his shoulder
and smiling up into the eyes bent so lovingly upon her. "I think I
never had a better time. Have we been to all the places of interest
now?"
"Not quite all," he replied; "there are a few others to which we may
take pleasant little jaunts in the week or so we expect to tarry here."
"Vaucluse for one, I should say," remarked Mr. Embury, laying aside his
paper and joining in the talk.
"Where is that?" asked Mrs. Dinsmore.
"Over on the shore of the eastern bay, and about six miles out from
Newport. It is a noted country seat, at present unoccupied except in
small part by a caretaker and his wife. It has a very neglected look,
but is still well worth seeing, I have been told. But here comes
my Molly with a manuscript in her hand. Something to read to us, I
suppose. Is it, my dear?"
"Yes," she said, with a smile; "provided you all wish to hear it. A
story of the ship _Palatine_ from Holland, which struck on Sandy Point
of this island early in the last century. I have used the facts as far
as they could be obtained, and drawn upon my imagination for the rest.
If all would like to hear it, I shall be glad to have your opinions and
criticisms before offering it for publication."
"Suppose you put it to vote, my dear," suggested her husband. "We are
all here now except the little folks, who have gone to their beds," he
added, glancing at Isadore and Violet, who had come into the room just
in time to hear Molly's last sentence.
"I shall be glad to hear it, Molly. I always have enjoyed such of your
productions as have come under my notice," said Violet, in a lively
tone, as she took the seat her husband had hastened to offer.
"And I can echo those sentiments," added Isadore lightly, taking
possession of an easy chair gallantly drawn forward for her by her
Uncle Dinsmore.
Thus encouraged, Mrs. Embury began at once.
"Story of the ship _Palatine_," she read.
"Some time in the early years of the last century, a ship named
the _Palatine_ left Holland for America, bearing a large number of
emigrants, whose destination was the then colony of Pennsylvania, where
they intended to buy land and settle; and for that reason they were
carrying with them all their earthly possessions--clothing, furniture,
and money; of which some had a good deal, others only a little.
"Among the wealthier ones was Herr Adolphus Follen, with his wife
Margaret, his daughters Katrina and Gretchen, and his son Karl. Also
they had with them an elderly woman, Lisa Kuntz, who had lived with the
Follens ever since their marriage, and acted as nurse to each of their
children in turn. She had no near kin, and being much attached to the
family in which she had made her home for so many years, had decided to
accompany them to the new world in spite of her fears of Indians and
wild animals.
"As the good ship _Palatine_ sailed slowly out of port, all these, with
many of their fellow-passengers, stood upon her deck gazing sadly, and
not a few with flowing tears, upon the fast-receding shores of their
native land. Ah, how much bitterer would have been their grief, could
they have foreseen the sufferings that fateful voyage held in store for
them! Though they little suspected it at the time, they had fallen into
the hands of men so full of the love of money, so ready to do the most
dastardly deeds in order to secure it, that they were no better than
the worst of cut-throats and murderers.
"The emigrants had not brought a store of provisions for the voyage,
because, according to the agreement, these were to be purchased of
the captain and his officers. But scarcely had they cleared the coast
and stood well out to sea when they were struck with astonishment and
dismay at the enormous sums asked for the merest necessaries of life:
20 guilders for a cup of water, 50 rix dollars for a ship's biscuit."
"Astounding rascality!" exclaimed Mr. Embury, as his wife paused for an
instant in her reading.
"Why, how much are those coins worth in our money?" she asked. "I
really do not know exactly."
"A guilder," he replied, "equals 40 cents of our money; so that 20
guilders would be $8. Think of that as the price of a cup of water!
probably not the coolest or cleanest either. Then the 50 rix dollars
for a ship biscuit would equal $18.25. Think of such a conspiracy as
that on the part of a ship's officers to rob defenceless passengers!"
"Why, it was just dreadful!" she exclaimed. "Those officers were no
better than pirates."
"Not a whit! In fact, they were pirates. But go on, my dear; let us
have the rest of your story."
Mrs. Embury resumed her reading.
"'What shall we, what can we do,' asked Frau Follen of her husband. 'I
fear there will be no money left for buying land when we reach America.'
"'Alas! I fear not, indeed!' he returned; 'and should anything happen
to delay the vessel we may be reduced to great extremity even before
reaching the shores of America. Ah, would we had been satisfied to
remain in the fatherland!' he groaned in anguish of spirit.
"'Ah, father,' said Gretchen, the eldest daughter, 'let not your heart
fail you yet. Help may yet come from some unexpected quarter, and if
not--if we die for lack of food--we may hope to awake from the sleep of
death in the better land, to suffer and die no more. Let us trust in
God and not be afraid.'
"'You are right, my daughter,' he returned with emotion. 'But oh, God
grant I may not be called to see my wife and children suffer and die
for lack of food!'
"A young man standing near, one with whom they were slightly
acquainted, here joined in the conversation.
"'It is dreadful, dreadful!' he exclaimed, but speaking in a subdued
tone for fear of being overheard by their inhuman oppressors, 'the way
these mercenary wretches are robbing the helpless poor whom they have
entrapped into their net. Every fellow of them deserves the headsman's
axe, and I hope will reach it at last. Think of the exorbitant sums
they are asking for the barest necessaries of life! Nor do I believe
they will ever carry us to our destination, lest complaint be made of
them and they be brought to condign punishment by the authorities of
the land.'
"'But, what then do you think they will do, Herr Ernesti?' asked Frau
Follen, gasping with fear and horror, as she spoke.
"'I cannot tell,' he answered. 'Mayhap land us on some desert island,
and leave us there to struggle as we can for life. But, thank God,
they cannot take us to any spot where He does not rule and reign, or
where His ear will be deaf to the cries of His perishing ones. So, my
friends, let us not give up to utter despair. "The Lord is my light and
my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life;
of whom shall I be afraid?"'
"'Yes, yes; what consolation in knowing that!' cried Gretchen, tears
of mingled joy and sorrow streaming down her face. 'Father, mother,
sister, and brother, we are all His and He will care for us in His own
time and way.'
"But who shall describe the scenes that followed through weeks of
deepest distress and agony, as fathers and mothers, husbands and wives,
brothers and sisters saw their dear ones perishing with famine, while
they themselves were goaded almost to madness by the pangs of hunger
added to their bitter grief?
"But they were entirely in the power of their inhuman torturers, who
never relaxed in their demands until they had wrenched from their
wretched victims every stiver in their possession.
"That accomplished, and no food remaining--unless a very, very scanty
store--they, officers and sailors, deserted the vessel, going off in
the boats, leaving their helpless victims to their fate, for not one of
them had either the needed knowledge or strength for the management of
the ship; and so she drifted aimlessly hither and thither at the mercy
of the winds and waves, carrying her fearful cargo of dead and dying
whither they knew not.
"To the survivors that voyage seemed like one long, dreadful dream,
full of horrors and keenest anguish of body and mind. Of the many
emigrants who, filled with the hope of reaching a land of freedom and
plenty, had crowded the vessel at the beginning of the voyage, but
seventeen feeble, emaciated, almost dying creatures were left when, one
cold winter morning, about Christmas time, the now dismasted hulk of
the good ship _Palatine_ drifted into Narragansett Bay and struck on
Sandy Point, Rhode Island.
"It was Sunday morning, but the good people of the island seeing the
wreck, and knowing there might be in her some living soul in distress,
hastened on board, where they found the poor, perishing creatures, and
at once carried them all ashore save one woman--Lisa Kuntz, the nurse
of the Follens, who obstinately refused to leave the vessel. She was
seated upon the deck with her belongings about her, and there she was
determined to stay. But she was not safe there, as the islanders well
knew; for the dismasted hulk could not be secured against drifting
away, and as the tide arose around it they, as a last resort, set it on
fire, thinking the lone woman would certainly be frightened, and prefer
coming ashore to remaining upon the burning ship. But she would not,
and as the tide rose the blazing hulk drifted away, carrying her with
it."
"Oh, how dreadful!" sighed several of Molly's hearers.
"Wasn't it?" she responded. "I suppose the sufferings of the poor
creature must have made her insane."
"But the sixteen who were brought ashore, did they live?" asked
Lucilla; and in reply Mrs. Embury resumed her reading.
"The sixteen who had been carried ashore were treated with the greatest
kindness by the islanders, all their wants carefully attended to; but
for nearly all of them help had come too late, and all but three soon
died. Of the Follen family Gretchen alone remained, a lonely, almost
heart-broken creature, having seen father, mother, brother, and sister
laid in the grave soon after landing upon the island. But Herr Hubert
Ernesti remained. He had been beside her all these dreadful weeks and
months, had sympathized in all her griefs, all her sufferings of mind
and body, and each had learned to look upon the other as the nearest
and dearest of all earthly beings; so that when, beside the newly
filled grave that held the last of her family, he asked her to give
herself to him that they might meet all coming trials and share all
joys together, she did not say him nay, or withdraw the hand he had
taken in his and held in a clasp so loving and tender.
"It was from them the islanders learned the sad story of the terrible
scenes and sufferings on board the _Palatine_; an experience poor
Gretchen could never recall without tears.
"Hubert and she remained upon that hospitable island for some years,
then left it for their original destination, where, we will hope, they
lived out the remainder of their lives in peace and happiness."
"And that is the end of your sad little story, is it?" asked Rosie, as
her cousin paused in the reading.
"Of the story of those two," said Molly; "but I have something more to
read, if no one is tired of listening."
No one seemed to be, and she resumed:
"Ever since the burning _Palatine_ drifted away that night a strange
light has been seen at intervals along this coast whence she departed
on that last voyage. Many have seen it, and the superstitious and
ignorant have looked upon it as the phantom of the burning ship
_Palatine_, ever drifting upon the open sea, always burning but never
consumed; seen only at long intervals, as she drifts off the western
coast.
"A well-known physician of Block Island, having had two opportunities
of seeing it, says, 'This curious irradiation rises from the ocean near
the northern point of the island; looks like a blaze of fire; either
touches the water or hovers over it. It bears no more resemblance to
the _ignis fatuus_ than to the aurora borealis. Sometimes it is small,
resembling the light through a distant window; at others expanding
to the height of a ship with all her canvas spread; the streams,
somewhat blended together at the bottom, separate and distinct at
the top, the middle one rising higher than the others. It is very
variable--sometimes almost disappearing, then shining out anew. It
changes about every three minutes; does not always return to the
same place, but is sometimes seen shining at a considerable distance
from the place of disappearance. It seems to have no certain line
of direction. The flame, when most expanded, waves like a torch; is
sometimes stationary, at others progressive. It is seen at all seasons
of the year and, for the most part, in calm weather which precedes an
easterly or southerly storm. It has, however, been noticed in a severe
northwesterly gale and when no storm followed immediately. Its stay is
sometimes short, at others all night, and it has been known to appear
several nights in succession.'
"'This light,' says another person, 'is often seen blazing at six or
seven miles distance, and strangers suppose it to be a vessel on fire.
The blaze emits luminous rays. A gentleman whose house is situated near
the sea tells me that he has known it to illuminate considerably the
walls of his room through the window; but that happens only when the
light is within a half mile of the shore.'"
"But where did you learn all this, Molly?" asked her husband, as she
paused to turn a leaf in her manuscript.
"From Mr. Baylor's 'History of Newport County,' lent me by my kind
friend, Mrs. Barker, of the old revolutionary house," Mrs. Embury
answered, then continued her reading.
"Says Mr. Joseph P. Hazard of Narragansett Pier: 'I first saw it three
miles off the coast. I suspected nothing but ordinary sails until
I noticed the light, upon reappearing, was apparently stationary
for a few moments, when it suddenly started toward the coast, and,
immediately expanding, became much less bright, assuming somewhat the
form of a long, narrow jib, sometimes two of them, as if each on a
different mast. I saw neither spar nor hull, but noticed that the speed
was very great, certainly not less than fifteen knots, and they surged
and pitched as though madly rushing upon raging billows.'"
"Superstition, every bit of it!" remarked Mr. Dinsmore, as Mrs. Embury
folded her manuscript and laid it aside.
"Why this any more than the _ignis fatuus_?" queried Mr. Embury, in a
tone that seemed a mixture of jest and earnestness. "Neither has as yet
been altogether satisfactorily accounted for. The latter having puzzled
philosophers from the time of Aristotle."
"True," said Mr. Dinsmore, "there are various theories advanced
in regard to that. All we know certainly is that it is a luminous
appearance frequently seen in marshy places, churchyards, and over
stagnant pools."
"Has it ever been seen in this country, grandpa?" asked Grace.
"I think not," he replied, "but it is not unfrequent in the lowlands
of Scotland, the south and northwest of England, or the northern parts
of Germany. The time of year for its appearance is from the middle of
autumn till the beginning of November."
"I think I have read that the people of the districts where it was
frequently seen used to be superstitious about it in olden times; and
that they called it Will-o'-the-wisp, and Jack-a-lantern."
"Yes; and believed it to be due to the agency of evil spirits who were
trying to lure travellers to their destruction. And unfortunately it
was sometimes mistaken by unwary travellers for a light, and in trying
to reach it, thinking it shone from some human habitation where they
might find shelter and a night's lodging, they would follow it and so
get into, and sink in, the marsh, thus losing their lives."
"Is it not about time we were seeking our night's lodgings?" asked Mrs.
Dinsmore pleasantly, as her husband concluded his sentence. "See, the
clock is on the stroke of nine, which is a late enough hour for most of
us now, when we are moving about so much during the day. Surely it is
for Gracie, whose eyes, I notice, begin to droop."
"I think you are right, my dear," replied her husband. Then he
requested Mr. Lilburn to lead their family worship.