ILLUSTRATED ARTICLE.

THE SPECTRE SHIP.
AN AYR LEGEND.

BRYCE GUILBYLAND was a tall, raw boned, middle-aged man, with two high cheek-bones; his nose thin and somewhat hooked; two small grey eyes that had taken up their residence in the innerchambers of his head, which were thatched with a pair of eye-brows of long grey hairs; his mouth was drawn together not unlike a purse that had long been in the possession of a spendthrift-and was seldom unpuckered but to utter some mono-. syllable, for he was extremely tenacious of his words on all occasions. This, with a considerable bend in his shoulders, gave him somewhat of an odd appearance, although he had given a little more in to the new order of things that were beginning to make considerable inroads on the wardrobes of our forefathers.

But this piece of animal machinery ornamented with a large white wig, com-, posed of goat's hair, a huge cocked hat, a coat of brown grogram with large cuffs, and every button (of which there were no VOL. I. U

lack) of the size of a silver crown, a pair of petticoat-trowsers, composed of Osnaburgh sail-cloth, and large silver buckles that covered the greatest portion of his instep-made up altogether a sort of amphibious animal, neither landsman nor seaman, but yet something of both.-Such was the hero of the tale that I am about to narrate.

It was in the year 1723, that the good ship, the Golden Thistle of Ayr, was chartered by the Virginia Company, to sail for Maryland, in South Carolina, for a cargo of tobacco; and the said Bryce Gullbyland was appointed Captain, (to the no small loss of Johnny Towlines, who had long sailed her with profit to his owners-although Johnny was one of those people that could discover a doz n meridians in the four-and-twenty hours,) through the interest of Bailie M'Ilwhang, whose sister Bryce had married a few weeks previous to this date.-She was a virgin maiden of fifty; and her features might have been fixed on the bow of the fire-ship, the Medusa, or would have formed an appropriate ornament over the gateway of a vinegar-yard.

19-SATURDAY MAY 17, 1828.

The Sunday previous to the sailing of the Golden Thistle, Captain Gullbyland went to church at the head of his crew when the Rev. Robert Adair, then Minister, and the congregation, joined most fervently in prayer for a successful voyage-and that day, Jenny Whitelees, the most popular spaewife in the parish, had observed the model-ship that is suspended over the sailors'-loft to veer round in the direction that the Golden Thistle was bound, and return back to its former station. This she afterwards told Mrs. Gullbyland, when called to look into futurity, through the dark clouds of Bohea dust, or may hap it might be blackleafed Congou. The voyage, she said, would turn out both short and prosperous for the cup boded every thing that was desirable, and the motion of the ship was an augury that never failed. She further avowed, that since her husband was lost off the Ouchar Rocks, in 1702, no ship had left the Bar of Ayr, but she could foretel the fortune of the voyage by its motion.

This promising augury, with a few little items of scandal, was rewarded by

Mrs. Gullbyland with half-a-pound of lamb's wool, to make Jenny à pair of

hose.

It was on the first of April that the Golden Thistle crossed the Bar of Ayr, decked out in all the finery of jack, ensign, pendant, and streamer; while her white swelling sails were borne on the gale, like a summer cloud. A favourable breeze sprung up, and in two hours the Golden Thistle appeared but as a speck on the blue horizon of the ocean. Towards evening, the weather became thick and hazy, and the wind rose into what a seaman would have called a stiff gale; but to Bryce Gullbyland, who was but a fresh water mariner, (for he never had sailed beyond the narrow seas that surround Scotland,) it became an alarming storm-and by daylight next morning, he had lost all calculation of what course he was in, or to what quarter of the globe he had been blown. This weather continued for a fortnight, nor could Bryce, during that period, come to any conclusion, whether he was in terra incognita, the broad Atlantic, or in the Sound of Kilbrannan; for although the worthy

Bailie, his good brother, had avowed to the Virginia Company, that Bryce was, deeply skilled in navigation, yet it appeared to be somewhat doubtful on this occasion-since if possessed of the theory, he did not put it in practice.

At last, the storm subsided, and the weather clearing up, he found the ship within sight of land; but it was still unknown to Bryce whether he was drawing near to the Anthropophagi. It was, however, a beautiful spring morning, and the bosom of the ocean lay like a boundless mirror, enveloped in a thin blue vapour: -all hands were called upon deck, as the land lay under the lea bow. It appeared at first sight, to be composed of collonades, pillars, arches, and spires, of all the orders architecture could boast but as the ship drew near, they disappeared, and a fresh creation rose out of the ocean, of ruined minsters, towers, and cities, in endless variety, which made Bryce exclaim-"This is perilous strange !" A small boat, with four people, was seen approaching the ship; when Bryce left the deck, and shortly appeared with a long musketoon on his shoulder-which had been left in the citadel of Ayr by one of Oliver Cromwell's soldiers-and paced the quarter-deck, with long martial strides, every step sounding like a declaration of war to the approaching boat, which was nearing the ship very fast, and soon got along-side. It was then discovered that the land was the Isle of Skye, and the people no men-eaters. The boatmen civilly proposed piloting the ship into secure anchor-ground; and the sun, gaining more strength, soon dispelled the clouds that enveloped the shore-when the magic scenery disappeared, leaving a cold, bleak, iron-bound coast, with a few fishermens' huts scattered upon the

beach.

The boatmen were soon informed of the unskilful voyage; and one of them advised Captain Gullbyland to apply to the weird wife, who dealt largely in fair wind, for as much as would carry the ship to her destined port. Bryce, who thought a fair wind might stand him in lieu of navigation, for he was a firm believer in the power of witchcraft-as a proof of which, he was one of three that sat up with Maggie Osburne, previous to her execution at Ayr, to prevent her from making her escape through the key-hole of the prison door-instantly gave into the proposal, and preparation was immediately set about for the journey. Into a canvas bag, a junk of salt beef, a small quantity of sea biscuit, and two bottles of rum, were put as a retaining fee for Nor'west Meg-which was the

name by 'which she was known among the mariners of the surrounding islands.

Bryce, piloted by Willie Barnacle, an old fisherman, and Davie Hassel, one of his cabin boys, carrying the bag, set out for a cargo of fair wind. The road lay through a narrow defile, betwixt two high wild projecting cliffs, where the lichen and dwarf-oak clung to the shelves and fissures of the shattered face of the rockfrom which the head and venerable beard of the mountain-goat were now and then seen peeping, while their occasional bleats re-echoed from the surrounding dens, awakening the yell of the eagle, that claimed, as it were, a hereditary right to the undisturbed dominions of the neighbouring heights.

After climbing over broken disjointed masses of granite for two miles, they came to a clear rivulet, that flowed into a little glen, in all the varied beauties of cascade, stream, and pool-where spring had already begun to strew with profusion the fragrant primrose, the pied daisy, and dark blue cuckoo-flower. They now reached the top of a hillock, when old Barnacle exclaiming," Yonder's the canny wife's bield!" pointed to a spot where stood a group of gigantic figures, from the centre of which arose a small curling volume of smoke. As they drew nigh, they found the figures to be nine rudelyformed pillars, standing erect; in the centre of which, there was a large broad stone, supported by three upright ones. short, it was what an antiquary would have called a Cromlech, or Druid's Temple, which Nor'west Meg had metamorphosed, with the assistance of turf, stone, and clay, into a hovel or cavern, which she had occupied for many years.

In

Old Barnacle, who, on many former occasions, had officiated as high-priest to this old sybil, ordered the skipper (as he called Bryce) and the boy to halt at a short distance. He approached the farthest of the nine pillars, and lifting a long polished pebble struck three distinct times, when a creature of the most singular appearance, was seen creeping out from beneath the large stone.

It appeared a mass of rags, without symmetry, shape, or form-but which was no other than the weird wife herself! Rising upright, she commenced pacing round the pillars in measured steps, uttering a Runic rhyme in cadence to the movement of her feet, at the same time waving her arms wildly to and fro. When she came opposite to old Barnacle, she made a pause, and some words were exchanged; but what they were, neither Bryce nor the boy could understand. They were now beckoned to approach