Rhode Island American, Statesman And Providence Gazette

Stand From Under.—The following story was told for an actual fact by a sailor who solemnly affirmed he knew it to be so; whatever else he was, he certainly must have been a genius.

We were on board a slave ship, bound to the coast of Africa. I had my misgivings about the business and I believe others had them too. We had passed the Straits of Gibraltar, and were lying off Barbary, one clear, bright evening, when it came to my turn to take the helm. The ship was becalmed, and every thing around was as silent as the day after the deluge. The wide monotony of the water, varied only by the glancings of the moon on the crest of the waves made me think the old fables of Neptune were true; and that Amphitrite and her Naiads were sporting on the surface of the ocean with diamonds in their hair. These fancies were followed by thoughts of my wife, my children, and my home; and all were oddly enough jumbled together in a delicious state of approaching slumber.

Suddenly I heard, high above my head, a loud, deep, terrible voice call out, "Stand from Under!" I started to my feet—it was the customary signal when any thing was thrown from the shrouds, and mechanically, I sung out the usual answer, 'Let go.' But nothing came—I looked up in the shrouds— there was nothing there—I searched the deck, and found that I was alone! I tried to think it was a dream but that sound, so deep, so stern, so dreadful, rung in my ears, like the bursting of a Cannon.

In the morning, I told the crew what I had heard. They laughed at me, and were all day long full of their jokes about 'Dreaming Tom.' One fellow among them was most unmerciful in his raillery.— He was a swarthy malignant looking Spaniard, who carried murder in his eye, and curses on his tongue; daring lordly man, who boasted of crime, as if it gave him pre-eminence among his fellows. He laughed longest and loudest at my story. 'A most uncivil ghost, Tom,' said he; 'when such chaps come to see me, I'll make'em show themselves. I'll not be satisfied without seeing and feeling, as well as hearing.'

The sailors all joined with him : and I, ashamed of my alarm, was glad to be silent. The next night, Dick Burton took the helm. Dick had nerves like an ox and sinews like a whale; it was little he feared, on the earth, or beneath it.—The clock struck one—Dick was leaning his head on the helm, as he said, thinking of me, or my story.—when that awful voice again called from the shrouds, 'Stand from Under!' Dick started forward like an Indian arrow, which they say goes through and through a buffalo, and wings on its way, as if it had not lent death in the rear. It was an instant, or more, before he found presence of mind to call out, 'Let go!' Again nothing was seen,—nothing was heard.

Ten nights in succession, at one o'clock the same unearthly sound rung through the air, making our stoutest sailors quail, as if a bullet shot had gone through their brains. At last the crew grew pale when it was spoken of; and the worst of us never went to sleep without saying our prayers. For myself, I would have been chained to the oar all my life, to have got out of that vessel. But there we were in the vast solitude of ocean ; and this invisible being was with us! No one put a bold face on the matter, but Antonio the Spaniard. He laughed at our fears, and defied Satan himself to terrify him. However, when it came his turn at the helm, he refused to go. Several times under pretence of illness he was excused from a duty, which all on board dreaded. But at last the Captain ordered Antonio to receive a round dozen of lashes every night, until he should consent to perform his share of the unwelcome office. For a while this was borne patiently : but at length he called out 'I may as well die one way as another—give me over to the ghost!'

That night Antonio kept watch on deck—few of the crew slept; or expectation and alarm had stretched our nerves upon the rack. At 1 o'clock, the voice called,'Stand from Under!''Let go!' screamed the Spaniard. This was announced by a shriek of laughter, and such laughter, it seemed as if the fiends answered each other from pole to pole, and the bass was howled in hell: Then came a sudden crash upon the deck as if our masts and spars,had fallen. We all rushed to the spot—and there was a cold, stiff, gigantic corpse. The Spaniard said it was thrown from the shrouds; and when he looked on it, he ground his teeth like a madman. 'I know him,' exclaimed he, 'I stabbed him within an hour's sail of Cuba, and drank his blood for breakfast!'

We all stood aghast at the monster.—In fearful whispers we asked what should be done with the body.—Finally, we agreed that the terrible sight must be removed from us, and hidden in the depths of the sea. Four of us attempted to raise it; but human strength was of no avail—we might as well have tugged at Atlas. There it lay, stiff, rigid, and heavy, and as immoveable as if it formed a part of the vessel. The Spaniard was furious: " Let me lift him,' said he; I lifted him once and can do it again. I'll teach him what it is to come and trouble me.' He took the body round the waist, and attempted to move it. Slowly and heavily the corpse raised itself up; its rayless eyes opened, its rigid arms stretched out, and clasped its victim in a close death grapple—and rolling over to the side of the ship, they tottered an instant over the waters— then with a loud plunge sunk together. Again that demoniac—that wild,—shrieking laugh, was heard on the winds. The sailors bowed their heads, and put up their hands to shut out the appalling sound. I took the helm more than once after : but we never again heard in the shrouds that thundering sound, 'Stand from Under.'