Lost on Du Corrig; or, 'Twixt Earth and Ocean

Front matter

Uniform with this Work. Lost on Du Corrig ; or, 'Twixt Earth and Ocean. By Standish O'Grady. The Iron Pirate. A Plain Tale of Strange Happenings on the Sea. By Max Pemberton. The Capture of the " Estrella." A Tale of the Slave Trade. By Commander Claud Harding, R.N. The Doings of Raffles Haw. By A. Conan Doyle. The Shadow of a Song. By Cecil Harley. The Awkward Squads, and other Stories. By Shan F. Bullock. CASSELL & COMPANY, Limited, London; Paris and Melbourne. 38—1.94. "TAKING 1IY CLUE WITH ME, I DIVED" (p. 198). LOST ON" DTT-COBKIG OR TWIXT EARTH AND OCEAN BY STANDISH O ' G R A 1) Y AUTHOR OF "FINN AND HIS COMPANIONS," " THE BOG OF STARS, "THE STORY OF IRELAND," ETC. CASSELL and COMPANY Limited LONDON PARIS 4- MELBOURNE 1894 All Rights Reserved PEEFACE. I had at first intended to tell this story my self.

With that intention I wrote to each of the four brothers who separately or together figured in the singular events hereafter de scribed, requesting of them more exact informa tion than I already possessed. They replied not only at such length, but with such un expectedly vivid realism, that their various narratives, in spite of some literary shortcomings, seemed to me to need only a little editorial re vision to fit them for publication. I perceived that I would more prudently play the part of editor than of original author. Accordingly, I decided to let the brothers Freeman tell their own story. When their narratives over lapped I simply used the scissors. When too minute or too wandering I struck my pen through the redundancies, or what appeared to me to be such, endeavouring to secure a little more brevity and conciseness.

Some J 'HI-: FACE. IV slight discrepancies, chiefly in the matter of dates, I was enabled to correct from an old volume of the Sounders Newsletter. It was there that I first became acquainted with the details of the singular disappearance of John Freeman, though long before the story was familiar to me in its more general features. By the kindness of the Authorities of Dublin Castle I was permitted to inspect and take copies of the official reports sent in by the Police Sub-Inspector of the district. Along with these reports I fuund tied up in the same bundle a number of letters of a more private character written by the same Police Officer and addressed to the same superior to whom were forwarded the official reports. These two persons — viz., the local Sub-Inspector of Constabulary, who wrote the reports and letters, and the permanent official in the Castle to whom the}' were ad dressed — seem to have been intimate friends. On the top of the bundle I found a singh' sheet with the following endorsement : — "It has occurred to me that sooner or later

Preface

. V some person will undertake to write out and publish in all its details the whole story of the mysterious and unaccountable disappearance of John Freeman, a story which illustrates again for the thousandth time the old adage that truth is stranger than fiction. I have, there fore, decided to deposit here, along with the official reports forwarded to me by Mr. Samuel Watkins, the private letters which, simultane ously with the official, or from time to time, he may have written to me dealing with the catastrophe. In these private letters the in quirer, whoever he may be, and whenever he comes along this way making his searches, will meet with a large variety of local and personal details very suitable for his purpose, but for obvious reasons unfit to form part of Mr. Watkins' official reports.

" Henry Vigoks." Mr. Watkins, of whose letters I have made a copious use, is dead ; so is Mr. Vigors. These letters are very interesting not only as exhibit ing the attitude of an intelligent Constabulary a * VI

PREFACE.

. officer towards the main incident and its develop ments, but also on account of the light which they throw upon the Freeman family. Then the letters of a person, written at the time of the occurrence of the tragedy, or whatever it may be called, will, I think, help the reader to picture the events and characters with more vividness. The letters of Mr. Watkins I have treated in the same manner as the narratives of the brothers. In fact, I have done little more than cross the t's and pip the i's of the various persons whom I allow here to relate the history of the singular disappearance and singular adventures of John Freeman. I beg publicly to thank the brothers not only for responding so promptly to my appeal, but for their permission to publish, with such alterations as I might see fit to make, what they never intended should come before the public eye in the form in which it left their pens. I may add that the warm mutual affection of the brothers, the primitive character of the neighbourhood, and the simplicity of the home

PREFACE.

. VII life of the Freeman family, which are pleasantly and naturally suggested rather than elaborately described in their various communications, are such as I myself, though a seasoned litterateur, felt convinced that I could not re produce with anything like the freshness and vividness of their unlaboured composition. Of the four brothers who were concerned in the events described, Samuel, the third, hereinafter spoken of invariably as Sam, is the only one whose narrative I have not used, but for no other reason than that it is quite overlapped by those of the rest. John Freeman, the hero of the story, is the lad who was lost ; Edward Freeman is the discoverer of the lost one. The part played by Charles, the youngest, and also some singular experiences of the hero, are very curious, and suggest interesting questions in psychology.

I am happy to state that all four, though now scattered far and wide over the earth's surface, are doing well, and all, except the youngest, are married men and fathers of families. Editor. CONTEN T S. CHAPTER PAGE I Charles Freeman's Narrative. — My Brother goes to Du-Corrig . . 1 II. And does not Return . . . .10 III. Samuel Watkins on the Disappearance. — Official Report . . . .19 IV. Charley Freeman's Narrative (continued). — His Vision . . . . 24 V. Edward Freeman's Narrative. — The Arrest of Melody . , . . .32 VI. Edward Freeman's Narrative (continued). — Jack's Carrier Pigeon. . 43 VII. Edward Freeman's Narrative (continued). — Mysterious Disappearance of Edward Freeman . . . .54 VIII. Crohoor-Beg. — Samuel Watkins to Henry Vigors 54 IX. Mr. Watkins' Narrative (continued). — The Piast 63 X. Me.

Watkins' Narrative (continued). — Mr. Watkins receives a Letter from the Brothers ..... 7G XI. Mr. Watkins' Narrative (continued). — Receives a Second and Better Letter 87 XII. Surprising Emptiness of the Devil's Parlour CONTENTS. X PAGE CHAPI EK XIII Mr. Watkins' Narrative (concluded). — ■ Found! -I16 XIV. Edward Freeman's Narrative (continued). — Edward Freeman Loses Himself, but Finds his Brother . . .119 XV John Freeman's Narrative (continued). — How John Freeman came to Curry's Window 125 XVI. Trapped 132 XVII. Not to Get (Jut 139 XVIII. Fire 146 XIX, Not a Dog, spite its Barking . . .154 XX. Friends Multiply . . . . .159 XXI. Further Explorations . . . .166 XXII. Another Attempted Escalade. . .171 XXIII. A Psychological Experiment . . .177 XXIV Attempted Escape vid the Seal's Tunnel 183 XXV.

A Desperate Attempt upon the Tunnel . 195 XXVI. At Curry's Window 211 XXVII. The Ghost 217 XXVIII. The Ghost takes an Unexpected Shape . 226 XXIX. All about Mutton 241 XXX. My Last Attempt upon the Seals' Tunnel 248 XXXI. Edward Freeman's Narrative (continued). — Life of the Two Brothers in the Cavern ..... 257 XXXII. Edward Freeman's Narrative (continued). — Home again ..... 267 XXXIII. John Freeman concludes the Story. — A Good Treasure-Trove and a Moral . 277 ■li i LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. "Taking my clue with me, I . . . dived . . ." Frontispiece. Plan of the Cavern ...... p. xii. " Soon 1 was in dense darkness " . . To face p. 46 " It sent out a great blaze" . . . ,, 106 "It gave way before my descending weight" „ 132 " I SAW FOUR ROUND EYES APPARENTLY WATCHING ME " To face p. 160 "I WAS OFTEN SURROUNDED BY THE WHOLE NINE" To face p. 182 " I FOUND A FAT SHEEP LYING MOTIONLESS ON THE ground" ...... To face p. 241 >_ " We stood in Curry's Window " . . ,, PLAN 01* THE CAVERN,

Chapter I. Charles Freeman's Narrative

MY BROTHER GOES TO DU-CORRIG In the month of July, 1854, my eldest brother, John Freeman, suddenly and most unaccount ably was taken from us. One fine afternoon, being in good health and spirits, he went fishing and never returned. At lunch he was very pleasant and even jocose, making us youngsters laugh so immoderately that my father was at last obliged to interfere, and one of my brothers was sent out of the room in disgrace. D All the events of that terrible day are im printed on my mind with the clearness of visuality. I can still see the funny faces with which, when my father was not looking, he threw us into uncontrollable laughing fits. He r, had but just returned from Trinity College for the summer vacation, and was full of all sorts of joyous plans and projects for spending a good time at home.

Poor fellow ! he little knew what this vacation had in store for him. For a boy like my brother, and, indeed, for all of us, few rural neighbourhoods could have been more delightful than ours. There were mountain streams abounding with trout, streams which needed only a night's rain, sometimes merely a heavy shower, to supply good fishing. When the streams were not flooded he often brought home a good basket of brown trout and white, taken in the pools and holes with a mere shrimping-net which he made himself. It was something like a large and long-handled landing-net. There were good trout lakes, too, in the mountains. Of sea-fishing, both from boats and from the rock, he was very fond ; he was at the latter sport, viz., fishing for conor* from * A dull-yellow fish, very scaly, not welcome to epicures, and affording poor sport. — Ed. MT BROTHER GOES TO DU-CORRIG. 3 a rock, when he so mysteriously disappeared.

The Atlantic, beating against a very wild and almost iron-bound coast, lay less than a mile from our home. My father, a clergyman of the Church of Ireland, before the world suspected it to be a " upas tree," was incumbent of a very large parish, in fact three parishes rolled into one, which extended many miles along the sea coast and far into the interior. There were no resident gentry, and there was no preservation of game. No one but my brother had a gun in all the country-side, so that the shooting was all ours, and there was shooting in summer as well as in winter, for in summer we shot curlews, cave pigeons, rabbits, and hares. Puss abounded in this region, and as there were no harriers and no greyhounds, Jack was, in fact, not only a great sportsman, but the only sportsman in the county.

Enemies he had none, so that his mys terious disappearance could not be ascribed to any personal malignity. All the country people were fond of him, and, I think, proud of b him. They were always bringing him news of the " whereabouts " of otters, badgers, coveys of partridge, and so forth, and would run across the fields, leaving their work, to learn the contents of his bag, or would shout from afar, when they saw him returning with rod or gun, "Well, Master John, what luck ? " No, we never suspected for a moment, not until months after his disappearance, that he had been made away with by an enemy or had met with any foul play. And yet, in broad daylight, less than a mile from the Rectory, my brother suddenly disappeared, vanished as utterly as if he had been sucked down into the bowels of the earth, or drawn up into the sky.

The day was the 10th of July, a singularly fine day even for that time of the year. It was the day after his return from college, and he was quite running over with spirits. When I awoke early that morning I heard him whistling outside the windows on the lawn. The air was " Vilikins and his Dinah," a song much in vogue MY BROTHER GOES TO DU-CORRIG. 5 at the time. He always came home with a new tune, and never seemed to tire of it till he got another. When I looked out he was walkingto and fro on the lawn, taking the twist out of a new fishing-line. He had fastened one end of it to a little holly-tree on the lawn, and was diligently engaged in taking out the twist, which, indeed, is a tedious process. During the forenoon and on till dinner-time he seemed keenly and happily absorbed in similar avocations, viz., getting his fishing-gear into order.

We youngsters were confined to the schoolroom all that time, which we considered unfair, inasmuch as it was Jack's first day at home, but we could hear him bustling about the place and everlastingly whistling " Vilikins and his Dinah." Once we heard an awful screaming of geese in the rear regions. We knew perfectly well the cause of it. Jack was pursuing them and plucking out their wing feathers in order to tie pollock-flies. A little after noon he came into the school room and asked the tutor, Mr. Humphreys, to let me go to the village to buy him some wire. He gave me a penny for the wire and a penny for myself. In those days I considered a penny a handsome tip. He wanted the wire to make line-eyes for his hig rod, that which he used for sea-fishing. He also bade me call at the shoe maker's to get a piece of wax.

I mention all this because on his disappearance some foolish people said that he had " run away," a supposition which no member of the family harboured for a single instant. He was, in fact, brimful of sporting intentions. At three we dined, when, as I have described, he made those funny faces and set us all on the roar. When dinner .was over and we ran out of the room, there was a boy at the hall door with a box of bait in his hand, consisting partly of cockles and partly of what we used to call lug-worms. They are dug up in the mud of the sea-shore when the tide is out. This boy had been digging bait for Jack all the morning. He asked Jack to let him go with him to Du-Corrio-, and Jack refused. MY BROTHER GOES TO DU-CORRIG. 7 " Where are you going, Jack ? " said my second brother, Ned. " To Du-Corrig for conor," he said ; " and let none of you follow me as you value your lives."

Young as I was, by a certain sympathy, or I know not what, I saw why he wished to be alone. It was to indulge in his transports and talk and sing, and do what he pleased, and so let off his animal spirits and delight at being home again, without witnesses. I generally knew and felt what was passing in his mind. Indeed, I was very much attached to him, though he took hardly any notice of me. I was greatly pleased this day because he had selected me to go for the wire and wax. " I shall slay the wily conor, Ned," he went on, " till the sun is just that high above the western main. Sing tooral-al-ooral-al-ooral -al-lee. and then, up with the white feather ! and in with pollock and crohogues ! till Apollo is halfway to the North in his silver boat, and black night invests the sea. For a cup of cold pison it lay by her side, And the billet-doux said 'twas by pison she died.

Sing tooral-al-ooral-al-ooral-al-lee." etc., etc. Off he marched down the avenue with his little box of bait in his left hand, and his rod on his right shoulder, crunching the gravel noisily, for he was a large and stout lad. The two dogs followed close at his heels with their tails down, for they feared that they would be turned back. So they were, at the gate, and when they still showed signs of following he stooped down and flung stones towards them. Shortly afterwards I heard him shout " Ter." " Sir? " answered a voice from a neighbour ing field. " Come to Du-Corrig an hour after sunset to bring home the fish." "I will, sir," answered the voice. Then I heard more faintly in the distance the plaintive notes of " Vilikins and his Dinah " MY BROTHER GOES TO DU-CORRIG. 9 — an odious song, by the way.

So my brother Jack left home that 10th of July, 1854, and was not seen again. As will be quite evident, he could have no intention whatever of " running away," and yet that was the explanation of his disappearance which was favoured by all the Solomons. Ill

Chapter II. And Does Not Return

I know not why, but I had an uneasy feeling about Jack all that day, and it increased after he had left the Rectory for Du-Corrig. For some time this uneasy feeling took no precise shape, but later on I began to picture to myself a " tidal wave " sweeping him off the rock, and, having a lively imagination, saw the imaginary scene clearly, and Jack struggling for his life in the water. In the previous summer three tenants of ours in a different part of the country, all fathers of families, had been so swept off the rocks while fishing conor and drowned. Though I reminded myself that Jack was a splendid swimmer and diver, and could do any thing in the water, I failed to get rid of the vague sense of coming calamity of which I was conscious all day, and which became greater and greater as the sunset and darkness came on.

AND DOES NOT RETURN. 11 " Might not Jack be attacked by cramp," I thought, " when in the water? " True he never had had a cramp, nor did I know of anyone who was ever assailed in that way, but I had heard a great deal about the cramp. I was sent to bed early, for I was only eight years old, but I could not sleep. I kept listen ing for the barking of the dogs. In the pre vious summer that was to me the usual sign that Jack had returned safe from fishing. It was now long after dark. My two elder brothers, Ned and Sam, came into the room with a lamp. We three slept in the same room, Ned and Sam in one large bed, I in a little timber bedstead with high sides, over which I had to climb when getting in and out. Ned put the lamp on the table opposite the looking-glass and leaned over it. He took a pin from his coat and began to push up the wick.

It was a primitive little lamp : I have not seen such since I was a boy. There was usualty a fat red head on the top of the wick, which had to be snuffed just as we used to snuff the candles. " Jack is out late to-night," he said ; " I hope nothing has happened him." " What could happen him ? " said Sam, who was of a more stolid character. While saying this he undid the serpent-fastened belt which confined his waggoner. In those days boys wore loose white blouses gathered round the waist by a belt; we used to call them "wag goners." "I don't know," replied Ned, "but 'tis very late. There's papa opening the hall door and listening. How still the night is ! " " He's drowned," I cried from my truckle bed. " The tidal wave has caught him as it caught Cody, Phillips, and Moroney last year." " Hold your tongue, you little ass, and go to sleep," answered Ned angrily, but he threw down the window, leaned out, and listened.

There was a corn-crake craking somewhere outside. The moon was shining ; I could hear AND DOES NOT RETURN. 13 the distant roar of the sea, where it rolled up the white strand which we called Tramore. "This is getting bad, Sam," he said. " He's long after his time." Sam was now in bed, but sitting up and listening with bright eyes. I heard my father moving about below stairs ceaselessly from the hall door to the parlour and back again, and talking with my mother. " There's someone coming," said Ned. The dogs were indeed barking, but not for Jack ; that I knew well. " Pooh ! 'tis only old Ter." " Well, Ter," he cried cheerfully from the window, " where are the fish ? Why isn't Master John with you? " To these questions there was no audible reply. Ter was one of my father's labourers who worked, or rather elaborately idled, upon the extensive glebe farm which was attached to the Rectory.

It will be remembered that it was Ter whom my brother told to come to Du-Corrig after sunset. Ter made no reply to Ned's questions. I heard him crunching the gravel as he walked slowly to the hall door. " What is he saying ? " I cried. " Sh — " said Ned, with his head on one side, listening. The man was saying something to my father at the hall door. " He says he found the bait-box on the rock, but no rod, and that Jack is not there, and that he shouted for him everywhere and got no answer. Get up, Sam ; we must go search." Sam sprang at once with a bound upon the floor and dressed in haste. " Perhaps he left Du-Corrig," he said, " in one of the boats going out for night-fishing." '* Then why did he leave the box of bait behind him ? " retorted Ned. " Forgot it," answered Sam, dressing furiously.

The house was by this time in confusion, with servants rushing to and fro, exclamations, interrogations, and my father's voice raised. Then I heard somewhere the sound of a horn. The country-side was being called out to aIND DOES NOT RETURN. 15 search. I was alone now ; Ned and Sam were far away in the night. From the window I could see many torches moving swiftly south westwards in the direction of Du-Corrig. I heard the faintest and most distant noises, owing to the extreme stillness of the night. Fear, I suppose, too, made my hearing preter naturally acute. I remained at the open window a long time, till I was discovered there by my mother, shiver ing and coughing, and was by her put back into my bed. She was in tears, though perhaps to comfort me she said, " Go to sleep, darling. Jack will be here when you wake in the morning.

Of course he has gone out in one of the deep-sea fishing-boats." It was discovered, however, ere long that none of the boats which used to go out far from land, fishing haak and ling, had gone out that night, owing to stress of haymaking. At last I fell asleep. When I woke in the morning and sat up, I found my two brothers lying on their bed, outside the bed-clothes, fast asleep, but not undressed. I knew from this that Jack had not been found. I dressed and went into Jack's room. It was empty ! I then went downstairs. There were voices in my father's study. The door was open ; I saw my father standing and my mother sitting down, both very pale, and my mother weeping. It was still the grey dawn of the day. My parents not having noticed me, I set out for Du-Corrig and ran all the way. The place was crowded with fishermen and counts people, amongst whom were several policemen and coastguards, in their blue jackets and white trousers.

There were boats off the rock, which were being rowed slowly along. The men in them wTere dragging the sea-bottom here with grappling irons. Just then a police orderly rode up on a foaming horse. He received some fresh directions from Mr. Watkins, the constabulary officer of the district, and galloped off again. Everyone, indeed, was at his wits' ends, for it was quite impossible to frame any theory of the disappear ance which would square with known facts. One AND DOES NOT RETURN. 17 boat had gone breamfishing the previous after noon. The people in it said that they had seen my brother on the rock, and that he had hailed them as they rowed past in a cheerful and friendly manner. That was the last seen or heard of him. That he had been drowned no one in the neighbourhood could believe, though the coastguards, for want of anything else to do, were dragging the sea-bottom.

There were other boats out too — fishermen who went miles to the east and miles to the west, searching and at intervals crying out, hoping against hope that there might be some response. Presently my elder brothers Ned and Sam came down to the rock, and roughly bade me go home. They joined Mr. Watkins, who questioned them for a long time. The last hope was that in obedience to a sudden impulse he had walked off to visit some of our distant friends, for a twenty or thirty mile walk was nothing to him. But no tidings of any kind reached us as day followed day. No one had heard of him c or seen him anywhere since the bream-fishers passed him on the rock, when he hailed them as I have already described. The series of extraordinary and marvellous experiences which had really befallen my brother will be found to re-illustrate for the thousandth time the old saying that " truth is stranger than fiction." l:i

Chapter III. Samuel Watkins On The Disappearance

OFFICIAL REPORT. " I have to report a very mysterious disappearance which took place in this neighbourhood last Wednesday, the 10th instant. The eldest son of our rector, the Rev. Mr. Freeman, left home in the afternoon to go fishing, and never returned. He was seen by a boat's crew shortly afterwards, fishing from the rock to which he had announced that he would go for that purpose. Its local name is Du-Corrig. For reasons which I need not set down, I am abso lutely certain that he did not run away. That he slipped from the rock and was drowned is also well-nigh incredible, for he was a splendid swimmer and a remarkably athletic and spirited young man ; nor is it credible that he met with foul play in such a spot and at such a time, for he had nothing with him to excite cupidity. c "He was very popular, too, in the neighbourhood, and after making many secret in quiries, I do not believe that he had an enemy in the whole country-side.

It is possible, no doubt, that from some other part of the country an enemy may have followed him hither, killed him unawares on the rock, and flung his body into the sea. The ground, however, has been carefully dragged, under my directions, by the coastguards of the adjoining station. They found nothing — not even his rod, which dis appeared along with him. " Subsequently I secured the services of the diver who is at work on the construction of the Coosdarig pier for the Board of Works. He came next day, with his diving apparatus and assistants, and made a careful submarine exam ination without discovering anything. If young Freeman was drowned here, his rod, weighted as it was by a heavy brass reel, should have been found. Altogether the case is mysterious, nor can I frame any theory which would rationally account for it.

I have caused advertisements to SAMUEL WATKINS ON THE DISAPPEARANCE. 21 be inserted in all the Connaught papers, giving a description of young Freeman." Samuel Watkins. [Private Letter.] July 18th. My Dear Harry, — You cannot imagine how much I have been upset about this affair. John Freeman, the lost boy — I find it hard to picture him as anything but a boy — has been known to me intimately since he was thirteen years of age. I can honestly say that I have never known a finer, braver, more honourable, and more affectionate lad. He is not exactly handsome, though he has the fiercest and brightest eyes of glowing hazel that I ever saw, and a very beautiful mouth ; nor clever, yet, at the same time, not deficient in intelligence. He is absolutely without vice, though I hear that during the last college term he has begun to smoke a little.

He is the strongest and almost the most athletic youth whom it has ever been my good fortune to meet, large-limbed, muscular, and brimful of health and of spirits. As a swimmer and diver I never saw his equal. I have often seen him strip on a wild day in December or January, and swim long distances to recover some curlew or pigeon which he had shot. But enough of this. Suffice it to say that not only as the constabulary officer of this district, but as his own personal friend, the astonishing and mysterious disappearance of poor Freeman, under the circumstances detailed in the official report, has been to me a most severe blow. I have done, and am doing, my best. But every night finds me here in my den cogitating aimlessly over this tragedy for the worst of it is that I am unable even to imagine a theory which will in the least square with the facts.