The Ghost Pirates (Annotated) E-Book

William Hope Hodgson

• Herausgeber: Muhammad Humza
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

William Hope Hodgson was one of the finest writers to ver write horror. This tightly plotted novel is both compelling and terrifying. Do not read this one alone on a foggy night. The Ghost Pirates . . . is a powerful account of a doomed and haunted ship on its last voyage, and of the terrible sea-devils (of quasi-human aspect, and perhaps the spirits of bygone buccaneers) that besiege it and finally drag it down to an unknown fate. With its command of maritime knowledge, and its clever selection of hints and incidents suggestive of latent horrors in nature, this book at times reaches enviable peaks of power.

Leseprobe

William Hope Hodgson Biography

WILLIAM HOPE HODGSON (1877-1918) is known not only as the writer of such sea horror tales as “The Voice in the Night”, “From the Tideless Sea”, The Ghost Pirates and The Boats of the “Glen Carrig” but also for the pioneer science-fiction classics The Night Land and The House on the Borderland.  His works have been hailed by many critics and writers including H. P. Lovecraft and Clark Ashton Smith.  Not surprisingly, his life was just as interesting as his stories.

WHH (known as “Hope” to his family and friends) was born in 1877, the second son of Essex clergyman Samuel Hodgson and his wife, Lizzie.  The family would eventually grow to include twelve children but three of WHH’s brothers would die in infancy before their second years.

By all reports, Samuel Hodgson was a difficult man to live with.  This is perhaps supported by the fact that he was constantly transferred throughout most of his career.  Samuel was moved at least twelve times during the years 1871-1890 and, in 1887, the family was sent to do missionary work in Ireland at Ardrahan, County Galway.  This would provide the setting for one of Hodgson’s most famous novels, The House on the Borderland.

During his youth, WHH was in love with the sea and made several attempts to run away but was always returned to his family.  Finally, through the intervention of his uncle, Reverend Thomas Lumsdon Brown, WHH was apprenticed to the firm of Shaw and Savill for four years as a se

aman in the Merchant Marine in 1891.  This would begin his long association with the sea which would leave him with such a depth of anger and hatred that WHH had no choice but to express it in his many sea stories.

In 1898, WHH would rescue a fellow crewman from shark infested waters after the man fell overboard.  For this act, WHH received a medal from the Royal Human Society but even this could not keep him at sea which he finally abandoned for good in 1900.

After Samuel Hodgson’s death from throat cancer in 1892, the family was plunged into poverty.  This state would exist until the death of WHH’s paternal grandfather in 1900 when he left the family an inheritance.  Still, money would be a constant concern in the Hodgson home.

In 1901, WHH opened his “School of Physical Culture” in Blackburn.  After devoting much of his attention to ‘physical culture’ during his time at sea, WHH would remain an avid follower of health and strength development.  WHH had worked at increasing his own strength and physical power in order to protect himself from the bullying of other seamen even including some junior officers.  He would use this interest to write several articles on the subject which were published in various physical culture magazines.

After WHH’s death, Bessie returned to her family and oversaw WHH’s literary estate until her death in 1943.  At that point, the estate reverted to WHH’s sister, Lissie, who handled it (not the best way) until her own death in 1959.

Since WHH’s death, his fame has increased.  Despite some episodes of rarity, much (if not all) of Hodgson’s fiction is now available either online or via Print on Demand publishers.  As we move towards the 100th anniversary of his death, let us take up the banner of this talented author and carry it forward into a new century!

Table of Contents

Title

About

Author's Preface

The Hell O! O! Chaunty

Chapter 1 - The Figure Out of the Sea

Chapter 2 - What Tammy the 'Prentice Saw

Chapter 3 - The Man up the Main

Chapter 4 - The Fooling with the Sail

Chapter 5 - The End of Williams

Chapter 6 - Another Man to the Wheel

Chapter 7 - The Coming of the Mist and That Which It Ushered

Chapter 8 - After the Coming of the Mist

Chapter 9 - The Man Who Cried for Help

Chapter 10 - Hands That Plucked

Chapter 11 - The Search for Stubbins

Chapter 12 - The Council

Chapter 13 - The Shadow in the Sea

Chapter 14 - The Ghost Ships

Chapter 15 - The Great Ghost Ship

Chapter 16 - The Ghost Pirates

Chapter 17 - The Silent Ship

Footnotes

Author's Preface

This book forms the last of three. The first published was "The Boats of the 'Glen Carrig'"; the second, "The House on the Borderland"; this, the third, completes what, perhaps, may be termed a trilogy; for, though very different in scope, each of the three books deals with certain conceptions that have an elemental kinship. With this book, the author believes that he closes the door, so far as he is concerned, on a particular phase of constructive thought.

The Hell O! O! Chaunty

Chaunty Man . . Man the capstan, bullies! Men ... ... Ha!-o-o! Ha!-o-o! Chaunty Man . . Capstan-bars, you tarry souls! Men ... ... Ha!-o-o! Ha!-o-o! Chaunty Man . . Take a turn! Men ... ... Ha!-o-o! Chaunty Man . . Stand by to fleet! Men ... ... Ha!-o-o! Chaunty Man . . Stand by to surge! Men ... ... Ha!-o-o! Chaunty Man . . Ha!—o-o-o-o! Men ... ... TRAMP! And away we go! Chaunty Man . . Hark to the tramp of the bearded shellbacks! Men ... ... Hush! O hear 'em tramp! Chaunty Man . . Tramping, stamping— treading, vamping, While the cable comes in ramping. Men ... ... Hark! O hear 'em stamp! Chaunty Man . . Surge when it rides! Surge when it rides! Round-o-o-o handsome as it slacks! Men ... ... Ha!-o-o-o-o! hear 'em ramp! Ha!-oo-o-o! hear 'em stamp! Ha!-o-o-o-o-oo! Ha!-o-o-o-o-o-o! Chorus ... . They're shouting now; oh! hear 'em A-bellow as they stamp:— Ha!-o-o-o! Ha!-o-o-o! Ha!-o-o-o! A-shouting as they tramp! Chaunty Man . . O hark to the haunting chorus of the capstan and the bars! Chaunty-o-o-o and rattle crash— Bash against the stars! Men ... ... Ha-a!-o-o-o! Tramp and go! Ha-a!-o-o-o! Ha-a!-o-o-o! Chaunty Man . . Hear the pawls a-ranting: with the bearded men a-chaunting; While the brazen dome above 'em Bellows back the 'bars.' Men ... ... Hear and hark! O hear 'em! Ha-a!-o-o! Ha-a!-o-o! Chaunty Man . . Hurling songs towards the heavens—! Men ... ... Ha-a!-o-o! Ha-a!-o-o! Chaunty Man . . Hush! O hear 'em! Hark! O hear 'em! Hurling oaths among their spars! Men ... ... Hark! O hear 'em! Hush! O hear 'em! Chaunty Man . . Tramping round between the bars! Chorus ... . They're shouting now; oh! hear A-bellow as they stamp:— Ha-a!-o-o-o! Ha-a!-o-o-o! Ha-a!-o-o-o! A-shouting as they tramp! Chaunty Man . . O do you hear the capstan-chaunty! Thunder round the pawls! Men ... ... Click a-clack, a-clatter Surge! And scatter bawls! Chaunty Man . . Click-a-clack, my bonny boys, while it comes in handsome! Men ... ... Ha-a!-o-o! Hear 'em clack! Chaunty Man . . Ha-a!-o-o! Click-a-clack! Men ... ... Hush! O hear 'em pant! Hark! O hear 'em rant! Chaunty Man . . Click, a-clitter, clicker-clack. Men ... ... Ha-a!-o-o! Tramp and go! Chaunty Man . . Surge! And keep away the slack! Men ... ... Ha-a!-o-o! Away the slack: Ha-a!-o-o! Click-a-clack Chaunty Man . . Bustle now each jolly Jack. Surging easy! Surging e-a-s-y!! Men ... ... Ha-a!-o-o! Surging easy Chaunty Man . . Click-a-clatter— Surge; and steady! Man the stopper there! All ready? Men ... ... Ha-a!-o-o! Ha-a!-o-o! Chaunty Man . . Click-a-clack, my bouncing boys: Men ... ... Ha-a!-o-o! Tramp and go! Chaunty Man . . Lift the pawls, and come back easy. Men ... ... Ha-a!-o-o! Steady-o-o-o-o! Chaunty Man . . Vast the chaunty! Vast the capstan! Drop the pawls! Be-l-a-y! Chorus ... . Ha-a!-o-o! Unship the bars! Ha-a!-o-o! Tramp and go! Ha-a!-o-o! Shoulder bars! Ha-a!-o-o! And away we blow! Ha-a!-o-o-o! Ha-a!-o-o-o-o! Ha-a!-o-o-o-o-o!

Chapter

1

The Figure Out of the Sea

HE BEGAN WITHOUT ANY circumlocution.

I joined the Mortzestus in 'Frisco. I heard before I signed on, that there were some funny yarns floating round about her; but I was pretty nearly on the beach, and too jolly anxious to get away, to worry about trifles. Besides, by all accounts, she was right enough so far as grub and treatment went. When I asked fellows to give it a name, they generally could not. All they could tell me, was that she was unlucky, and made thundering long passages, and had no more than a fair share of dirty weather. Also, that she had twice had the sticks blown out of her, and her cargo shifted. Besides all these, a heap of other things that might happen to any packet, and would not be comfortable to run into. Still, they were the ordinary things, and I was willing enough to risk them, to get home. All the same, if I had been given the chance, I should have shipped in some other vessel as a matter of preference.

When I took my bag down, I found that they had signed on the rest of the crowd. You see, the "home lot" cleared out when they got into 'Frisco, that is, all except one young fellow, a cockney, who had stuck by the ship in port. He told me afterwards, when I got to know him, that he intended to draw a pay-day out of her, whether any one else did, or not.

The first night I was in her, I found that it was common talk among the other fellows, that there was something queer about the ship. They spoke of her as if it were an accepted fact that she was haunted; yet they all treated the matter as a joke; all, that is, except the young cockney— Williams—who, instead of laughing at their jests on the subject, seemed to take the whole matter seriously.

This made me rather curious. I began to wonder whether there was, after all, some truth underlying the vague stories I had heard; and I took the first opportunity to ask him whether he had any reasons for believing that there was anything in the yarns about the ship.

At first he was inclined to be a bit offish; but, presently, he came round, and told me that he did not know of any particular incident which could be called unusual in the sense in which I meant. Yet that, at the same time, there were lots of little things which, if you put them together, made you think a bit. For instance, she always made such long passages and had so much dirty weather—nothing but that and calms and head winds. Then, other things happened; sails that he knew, himself, had been properly stowed, were always blowing adrift at night. And then he said a thing that surprised me.

"There's too many bloomin' shadders about this 'ere packet; they gets onter yer nerves like nothin' as ever I seen before in me nat'ral."

He blurted it all out in a heap, and I turned round and looked at him.

"Too many shadows!" I said. "What on earth do you mean?" But he refused to explain himself or tell me anything further—just shook his head, stupidly, when I questioned him. He seemed to have taken a sudden, sulky fit. I felt certain that he was acting dense, purposely. I believe the truth of the matter is that he was, in a way, ashamed of having let himself go like he had, in speaking out his thoughts about "shadders." That type of man may think things at times; but he doesn't often put them into words. Anyhow, I saw it was no use asking any further questions; so I let the matter drop there. Yet, for several days afterwards, I caught myself wondering, at times, what the fellow had meant by "shadders."

We left 'Frisco next day, with a fine, fair wind, that seemed a bit like putting the stopper on the yarns I had heard about the ship's ill luck. And yet—

He hesitated a moment, and then went on again.

For the first couple of weeks out, nothing unusual happened, and the wind still held fair. I began to feel that I had been rather lucky, after all, in the packet into which I had been shunted. Most of the other fellows gave her a good name, and there was a pretty general opinion growing among the crowd, that it was all a silly yarn about her being haunted. And then, just when I was settling down to things, something happened that opened my eyes no end.

It was in the eight to twelve watch, and I was sitting on the steps, on the starboard side, leading up to the fo'cas'le head. The night was fine and there was a splendid moon. Away aft, I heard the timekeeper strike four bells, and the look-out, an old fellow named Jaskett, answered him. As he let go the bell lanyard, he caught sight of me, where I sat quietly, smoking. He leant over the rail, and looked down at me.

"That you, Jessop?" he asked.

"I believe it is," I replied.

"We'd 'ave our gran'mothers an' all the rest of our petticoated relash'ns comin' to sea, if 'twere always like this," he remarked, reflectively—indicating, with a sweep of his pipe and hand, the calmness of the sea and sky.

I saw no reason for denying that, and he continued:

"If this ole packet is 'aunted, as some on 'em seems to think, well all as I can say is, let me 'ave the luck to tumble across another of the same sort. Good grub, an' duff fer Sundays, an' a decent crowd of 'em aft, an' everythin' comfertable like, so as yer can feel yer knows where yer are. As fer 'er bein' 'aunted, that's all 'ellish nonsense. I've comed 'cross lots of 'em before as was said to be 'aunted, an' so some on 'em was; but 'twasn't with ghostesses. One packet I was in, they was that bad yer couldn't sleep a wink in yer watch below, until yer'd 'ad every stitch out yer bunk an' 'ad a reg'lar 'unt. Sometimes—" At that moment, the relief, one of the ordinary seamen, went up the other ladder on to the fo'cas'le head, and the old chap turned to ask him "Why the 'ell" he'd not relieved him a bit smarter. The ordinary made some reply; but what it was, I did not catch; for, abruptly, away aft, my rather sleepy gaze had lighted on something altogether extraordinary and outrageous. It was nothing less than the form of a man stepping inboard over the starboard rail, a little abaft the main rigging. I stood up, and caught at the handrail, and stared.

Behind me, someone spoke. It was the look-out, who had come down off the fo'cas'le head, on his way aft to report the name of his relief to the second mate.

"What is it, mate?" he asked, curiously, seeing my intent attitude.

The thing, whatever it was, had disappeared into the shadows on the lee side of the deck.

"Nothing!" I replied, shortly; for I was too bewildered then, at what my eyes had just shown me, to say any more. I wanted to think.

The old shellback glanced at me; but only muttered something, and went on his way aft.

For a minute, perhaps, I stood there, watching; but could see nothing. Then I walked slowly aft, as far as the after end of the deck house. From there, I could see most of the main deck; but nothing showed, except, of course, the moving shadows of the ropes and spars and sails, as they swung to and fro in the moonlight.

The old chap who had just come off the look-out, had returned forrard again, and I was alone on that part of the deck. And then, all at once, as I stood peering into the shadows to leeward, I remembered what Williams had said about there being too many "shadders." I had been puzzled to understand his real meaning, then. I had no difficulty now. There were too many shadows. Yet, shadows or no shadows, I realised that for my own peace of mind, I must settle, once and for all, whether the thing I had seemed to see stepping aboard out of the ocean, had been a reality, or simply a phantom, as you might say, of my imagination. My reason said it was nothing more than imagination, a rapid dream—I must have dozed; but something deeper than reason told me that this was not so. I put it to the test, and went straight in amongst the shadows— There was nothing.

I grew bolder. My common sense told me I must have fancied it all. I walked over to the mainmast, and looked behind the pinrail that partly surrounded it, and down into the shadow of the pumps; but here again was nothing. Then I went in under the break of the poop. It was darker under there than out on deck. I looked up both sides of the deck, and saw that they were bare of anything such as I looked for. The assurance was comforting. I glanced at the poop ladders, and remembered that nothing could have gone up there, without the Second Mate or the Time-keeper seeing it. Then I leant my back up against the bulkshead, and thought the whole matter over, rapidly, sucking at my pipe, and keeping my glance about the deck. I concluded my think, and said "No!" out loud. Then something occurred to me, and I said "Unless—" and went over to the starboard bulwarks, and looked over and down into the sea; but there was nothing but sea; and so I turned and made my way forrard. My common sense had triumphed, and I was convinced that my imagination had been playing tricks with me.

I reached the door on the portside, leading into the fo'cas'le, and was about to enter, when something made me look behind. As I did so, I had a shaker. Away aft, a dim, shadowy form stood in the wake of a swaying belt of moonlight, that swept the deck a bit abaft the main-mast.

It was the same figure that I had just been attributing to my fancy. I will admit that I felt more than startled; I was quite a bit frightened. I was convinced now that it was no mere imaginary thing. It was a human figure. And yet, with the flicker of the moonlight and the shadows chasing over it, I was unable to say more than that. Then, as I stood there, irresolute and funky, I got the thought that someone was acting the goat; though for what reason or purpose, I never stopped to consider. I was glad of any suggestion that my common sense assured me was not impossible; and, for the moment, I felt quite relieved. That side to the question had not presented itself to me before. I began to pluck up courage. I accused myself of getting fanciful; otherwise I should have tumbled to it earlier. And then, funnily enough, in spite of all my reasoning, I was still afraid of going aft to discover who that was, standing on the lee side of the maindeck. Yet I felt that if I shirked it, I was only fit to be dumped overboard; and so I went, though not with any great speed, as you can imagine.

I had gone half the distance, and still the figure remained there, motionless and silent—the moonlight and the shadows playing over it with each roll of the ship. I think I tried to be surprised. If it were one of the fellows playing the fool, he must have heard me coming, and why didn't he scoot while he had the chance? And where could he have hidden himself, before? All these things, I asked myself, in a rush, with a queer mixture of doubt and belief; and, you know, in the meantime, I was drawing nearer. I had passed the house, and was not twelve paces distant; when, abruptly, the silent figure made three quick strides to the port rail, and climbed over it into the sea.

I rushed to the side, and stared over; but nothing met my gaze, except the shadow of the ship, sweeping over the moonlit sea.

How long I stared down blankly into the water, it would be impossible to say; certainly for a good minute. I felt blank—just horribly blank. It was such a beastly confirmation of the unnaturalness of the thing I had concluded to be only a sort of brain fancy. I seemed, for that little time, deprived, you know, of the power of coherent thought. I suppose I was dazed—mentally stunned, in a way.

As I have said, a minute or so must have gone, while I had been staring into the dark of the water under the ship's side. Then, I came suddenly to my ordinary self. The Second Mate was singing out: "Lee fore brace."

I went to the braces, like a chap in a dream.

Chapter

2

What Tammy the 'Prentice Saw

THE NEXT MORNING, IN my watch below, I had a look at the places where that strange thing had come aboard, and left the ship; but I found nothing unusual, and no clue to help me to understand the mystery of the strange man.

For several days after that, all went quietly; though I prowled about the decks at night, trying to discover anything fresh that might tend to throw some light on the matter. I was careful to say nothing to any one about the thing I had seen. In any case, I felt sure I should only have been laughed at.

Several nights passed away in this manner, and I was no nearer to an understanding of the affair. And then, in the middle watch, something happened.