\^^V 
 
LIDnMnT ur owiNVjntoo 
 
 014 388 344 9 • 
 
 Hollinger Corp. 
 P H 8.5 
 
-^^■^■^ 
 
t* 
 
Class„ 
 
 Book. 
 
 DOBELL COLLECTION 
 

 GOMEROCK CASTLE. 
 
GOMEROCK CASTLE: 
 
 THE GRAVE OF THE UNKNOWN. 
 
 A. H. HOLDSWORTH, ESQ, 
 
 LONDON: 
 PRINTED FOR PRIVATE DISTRIBUTION. 
 
 MDCCCXLIV. 
 

 205449 
 '13 
 
TO 
 
 COLONEL T. W. TAYLOR, C.B. 
 Qi ©gfcoeH 1|ouse, 
 
 LIEUTENANT-GOVERNOR OF THE ROYAL MILITARY 
 COLLEGE, SANDHURST, 
 
 ETC. ETC. ETC. 
 
 My dear Taylor, 
 
 More than half a century has passed 
 away since we together drew our wooden 
 swords, and issued from our encampment 
 on the summit of a mound within the 
 warren at Coomb Royal, and charged with 
 our imaginary army the thistles which had 
 ventured to take post within our little ter- 
 ritory. 
 
VI DEDICATION. 
 
 Years have rolled on, and you have changed 
 your wooden sword for one of deadlier tem- 
 per, and have wielded it in your country's 
 cause, from the banks of the Sutlej to Java's 
 sultry plains, from Waterloo to Paris : whilst 
 your pen has told of those brave comrades 
 who were led to victory by Gillespie at 
 Cornells — has chased the Flying Dutchman 
 in his phantom-ship — and registered the 
 brave Guerilla's vow 
 
 " Of vengeance on the ruthless foe 
 Who spoils our native land." 
 
 The imagery of early life has not forsaken 
 you. 
 
 To whom, then, can I dedicate the 
 legend of Gomerock Castle so fitly as to 
 yourself? — for, if the history of one who 
 perished there should fail in interest, my 
 
DEDICATION. Vll 
 
 tale may yet call to your remembrance the 
 inhabitants of the " Gull's Nest" and Brook- 
 hill. 
 
 Accept it, then, as a token of regard, from 
 one who was your earliest playmate, school- 
 fellow, and friend, 
 
 The Authok. 
 
 Brookhiil, Nov. 1, 1844. 
 
GOMEKOCK CASTLE: 
 
 THE GRAVE OF THE UNKNOWN. 
 
 When Dartmouth sent a goodly company of 
 750 men, and above thirty ships, to assist 
 the third Edward at the siege of Calais — and 
 when, to avenge himself for wrongs done on 
 his coast, the Admiral of Bretagne attempted 
 a descent on Dartmouth, and his army was 
 driven precipitately back into their ships, 
 leaving the Lord du Chastel, with other officers 
 of rank slain in fight, and 100 men prisoners 
 to the gallant defenders of the town — and 
 when the Lancastrian party availed them- 
 
 B 
 
12 gomerock castle; or, 
 
 The skeleton was lying on its back, with 
 the head turned, as if resting, when buried, 
 on the right shoulder, the left arm uplifted 
 above the head, whilst the right was close to 
 the body. The whole bore testimony to a 
 hasty interment. 
 
 The men eagerly told of what had hap- 
 pened when they returned to Kingswear. 
 The story flew from mouth to mouth; and, 
 on the second day after the discovery, the 
 man who found the bones informed his fel- 
 low-labourers that he had no doubt of their 
 being the remains of a woman, for he had 
 heard a story which went strongly to prove 
 it. " There was a woman," said he, " more 
 than a century ago, who used to frequent 
 that Castle. She was often seen wandering 
 about the adjoining cliffs, but suddenly dis- 
 appeared; and I have no doubt but these 
 bones must be the remains of that unfor- 
 tunate creature. 5 ' 
 
 The man whom he addressed smiled at his 
 
THE GRAVE OF THE UNKNOWN. 13 
 
 story, for he was a stranger ; and the other, 
 vexed at his want of faith, continued — " You 
 may smile, but I could name the persons 
 who have seen a woman's form pass close 
 before them here, in the night, and suddenly 
 be lost. Strange things were spoken of 
 before our master came to live here : noises 
 were heard, and Mountain's Gate has opened 
 for the traveller without mortal hands." 
 
 Who Mountain was, that gave to that 
 mysterious gate his name, or why the house 
 in which he dwelt was suffered to decay, and 
 a small portion only to remain to mark the 
 spot, no one can tell. But at the time it 
 stood there, it was the last from Kingswear ; 
 beyond it there was no trace of house or 
 dwelling, save only the ruins of Gomerock 
 Castle, and a square tower which stands upon 
 the rocks, more distant towards the sea, and 
 of more modern character. 
 
 A surgeon, who visited the spot, decided 
 that it was the skeleton of a man; for, 
 
14 GOMEROCK CASTLE ; OR, 
 
 although there was little doubt that it had 
 been there nearly a century, still the skull 
 was sufficiently preserved to satisfy him of 
 the fact. When the place was cleared out, 
 the bones were again buried near the spot 
 where they were found, and a grave raised 
 over them. The following story, put together 
 from materials which were afterwards collected 
 from the old inhabitants of Kingswear, may 
 stamp it as 
 
 "THE GRAVE OF THE UNKNOWN." 
 
 Two centuries ago. Kingswear wore a dif- 
 ferent appearance from that which it does at 
 present. Many of its younger inhabitants 
 were employed in the Newfoundland trade. 
 
 About the time of King William's landing 
 at Brixham, William Blackaller was mate 
 of a fine brig, which was chiefly employed 
 in carrying fish from Newfoundland to the 
 Mediterranean. 
 
THE GRAVE OF THE UNKNOWN. 15 
 
 From the repeated voyages he had made, 
 since he became a stout apprentice, he had 
 acquired a desire to wander; and an old 
 companion of his early life induced him to 
 leave the service in which he had been so 
 long employed, and enter on board a man- 
 of-war. He was well recommended by his 
 old master to the captain of the ship, and 
 proving an expert and gallant seaman, he 
 was in a few years promoted to the rank of a 
 warrant-officer. 
 
 No man was more beloved by his com- 
 panions than Boatswain Blackaller. He 
 had served well at La Hogue, was at the 
 taking of the French and Spanish ships in 
 Vigo Bay, at the capture of Gibraltar in 1 704, 
 and at the battle of Velez Malaga, which 
 followed soon after; and when Sir Oloudes- 
 ley Shovel was wrecked on his homeward 
 passage, with a part of his fleet, after the 
 unsuccessful attempt of Prince Eugene and 
 the Duke of Savoy against Toulon, in 1707, 
 
16 gomerock castle; or, 
 
 Blackaller was boatswain of the Associa- 
 tion, and, with her whole ship's company, 
 perished on the rocks of Scilly. 
 
 Blackaller left a widow and some chil- 
 dren to mourn his loss. Amongst them was 
 a boy of about eleven years of age, who, 
 from the daring spirit which he displayed, 
 was considered " the very image of his 
 father." 
 
 The melancholy bereavement which had 
 thus suddenly befallen the family excited the 
 feeling of all around them — the more strongly, 
 perhaps, from the vast extent of a calamity 
 in which so many brave men had perished ; 
 and William (for so he was named, after his 
 father) was taken as an apprentice by a mer- 
 chant, then carrying on a considerable busi- 
 ness. 
 
 According to the general custom of that 
 day, the boy had to spend the summer in 
 Newfoundland, and the winter months in his 
 masters house at Dartmouth. During the 
 
THE GRAVE OF THE UNKNOWN. 17 
 
 latter portion of the year, the apprentices 
 were employed in preparing rigging, and 
 fitting the ships for their next voyage, whilst 
 their evenings were dedicated to such instruc- 
 tion in writing and navigation as would ren- 
 der them fit to fill the situations of mates 
 and masters, as vacancies might arise. 
 
 The boy soon became noted both for his 
 learning and seamanship, and he was of that 
 bold and generous spirit, that, if wrong were 
 done to any of his companions by the boys 
 of another house, Blackaller was always 
 the first to avenge the injury, and bear the 
 blame which should have been laid on other 
 shoulders, 
 
 His apprenticeship ended, he still con- 
 tinued in the employ of his master; but a 
 very few years expired before William was 
 lost to his old companions. 
 
 He had gone in one of his masters vessels 
 with fish to the West Indies, and whilst the 
 cargo was discharging he suddenly disap- 
 
18 GOMEROCK CASTLE; OR, 
 
 peared. His shipmates hunted for him in 
 every direction about the port, but to no 
 purpose. They could only learn that he had 
 more than once been seen in company with 
 some strange seamen, belonging (as it after- 
 wards appeared) to a ship which sailed the 
 day after William was missed ; but where 
 the vessel belonged, whence she came, or 
 whither bound, no one had any knowledge : 
 yet the manner in which she was handled, 
 and her general appearance, shewed that 
 those who composed her crew were not sea- 
 men of an ordinary character. 
 
 Years passed away, the widow of Boat- 
 swain Blackaller had been interred in the 
 little churchyard of Kingswear, and her 
 family had been so long dispersed that the 
 name was little thought of, when William 
 suddenly returned to the place of his birth. 
 He came in a coasting vessel from London. 
 Few remembered him; and those who did 
 could scarcely recognise, in his sunburnt 
 
THE GRAVE OF THE UNKNOWN. 19 
 
 and careworn countenance, the features of 
 their early companion. His manner was so 
 reserved, and his countenance so full of 
 rebuke if any one attempted to pry into his 
 history, that few dared attempt it a second 
 time ; and those who did, only learned that 
 he had been occupied in trade in the West 
 Indies, and had gained enough to enable 
 him to live comfortably at home. 
 
 But he came not alone. A beautiful girl, 
 of about ten years of age, engrossed all his 
 attention. Her features were not strictly 
 English, though she was like her father : her 
 quick and large black eye, and general man- 
 ner, bespoke a Spanish origin, and shewed 
 that she had been born under a more vivid 
 sun than that of Europe. 
 
 Maria was sent to school, and her father 
 occupied his time in fishing in a small sailing- 
 boat, which he managed with a dexterity that 
 bespoke the seaman, not the trader; and 
 once he thought of entering into partnership 
 
20 gomerock castle; or, 
 
 with a man who wished him to purchase half 
 his vessel^ but it might cause inquiry about 
 his money, and he as suddenly gave it up. 
 
 The inn at the Ferry becoming vacant, he 
 took a lease in it; and when Maria had 
 been three years at school, she returned to 
 be the mistress of her fathers house, and do 
 the office of the hostess. His disposition 
 was becoming gloomy, and more than usually 
 reserved; but the return of his favourite 
 child restored him again to himself. 
 
 Maria seldom left the bar. She had a 
 mind far above the ordinary stamp of those 
 who lived around her, and had more pleasure 
 in a book than in their society. But her 
 fathers house was the resort of many masters 
 of vessels, who, as Maria became more accus- 
 tomed to her new employment, were drawn 
 by her to the house. Her lively manner and 
 dark eye sold many a bowl of punch, they 
 said, for the good landlord. He, always on 
 his guard, read with a scrutinizing eye every 
 
THE GRAVE OF THE UNKNOWN. 21 
 
 stranger that came to his house ; listening 
 to the stories of all, but imparting little in 
 return. 
 
 Maria had entered on her twentieth year, 
 when a heavy gale from the south-west, about 
 the middle of September, drove a large ship, 
 bound to the Spanish main, to seek shelter 
 in the harbour. She had lost a part of her 
 masts and rigging, and had sprung a leak, 
 which prevented her from proceeding on her 
 voyage, without considerable repair. It was 
 necessary that her cargo should be taken out, 
 which was a work of time ; and her master, 
 having placed himself in the hands of an 
 agent, commenced unloading. 
 
 Having heard of Blackaller, and anxious 
 to look at the entrance of the harbour from 
 the Kingswear side, he landed with his mate, 
 and w r alked for an hour over the hills towards 
 the Mew r stone. On their return, they went 
 into the Ferry-house, and ordered a bowl of 
 punch, which was supplied by Maria; and 
 
22 gomerock castle; or, 
 
 Blackaller being desired to join them, they 
 entered into a conversation which lasted till 
 late in the evening. Indeed, neither of them 
 appeared anxious to leave the house, though 
 neither imparted to the other the cause by 
 which he was retained there. 
 
 The captain was a man nearly forty years 
 of age, as bold and daring as Blackaller 
 himself; but he was also of a very irritable 
 temper, and, if thwarted when a little in 
 liquor, he had no restraint upon his passion. 
 Still he was an honest man, and an excellent 
 seaman, and had for years been the favourite 
 captain of his owners. 
 
 The mate was the son of a friend of theirs, 
 of the name of Mordaunt, resident in one of 
 the West India islands, upon whom fortune 
 had bestowed a large family, with little means 
 to support them; and Henry, who had been 
 born there, was sent to London, to the 
 owners of the ship, who had kindly promised 
 to bring him up. 
 
THE GRAVE OF THE UNKNOWN. 23 
 
 After he had received an education suited 
 to his future prospects, he was put under the 
 care of the master of the Meridian, (for such 
 was the ship's name,) to be brought up to 
 the sea. 
 
 He had now passed his twentieth year, yet 
 he still felt under restraint when in the com- 
 pany of his captain — the natural effect of 
 being so long under his guidance; but it was 
 mixed with that regard for him which his 
 bold bearing, and kindness in time of danger, 
 had inspired; and if it did not amount to 
 respect, it was only because the temper of 
 his captain would sometimes lead him to acts 
 of sudden violence towards his crew, which 
 destroyed that feeling in the generous mind 
 of the young mariner. 
 
 Each had been struck by the appearance 
 of Maria, but the captain did not perceive 
 that it was to his mate that her eye was 
 constantly directed, when the interesting 
 matters on which they conversed, the land to 
 
24 G0MER0CK CASTLE ; OR, 
 
 which they were bound, unusually rivetted 
 her attention. Nothing passed between her 
 and Henry Mordaunt that could be observed 
 by others ; but when he shook hands with 
 Maria, on leaving the house, there was that 
 secret feeling between them which evinced 
 that each had seen enough of the other to 
 wish for a less restrained meeting — that early 
 fervent feeling of untainted youth, which, 
 ripening with years, will pilot us to the 
 nearest port to heaven in which man can cast 
 his anchor here. 
 
 There was a warmth, too, in the man- 
 ner of the captain, but it was returned only 
 with that courtesy which she felt to be due 
 to him as her father's guest. 
 
 The visit to the Ferry-house was frequently 
 renewed ; but Henry often stole there, un- 
 known to his captain; and when he was 
 supposed to be at a friend's house in Dart- 
 mouth, Maria and he were taking many a 
 delightful walk along the cliffs, scarcely 
 noticed by any one. 
 
THE GRAVE OF THE UNKNOWN. 25 
 
 The old Castle of Gomeroek was a favourite 
 haunt of the young lovers ; because there, 
 amidst the wild wood that surrounded it, 
 they could plight their mutual faith, unre- 
 strained by the prying eye of curiosity. 
 
 The feelings of the captain for Maria had 
 not diminished ; yet they had not carried him 
 beyond a marked attention when he was at 
 her father's house ; which she always received 
 with a frankness, which by some might be 
 thought unfair to him in her situation. But 
 she had been made aware of his temper ; and 
 if she feared to rouse it, who could blame 
 her ? She hoped, indeed, that nothing would 
 be said by him about her; and that when he 
 should leave the port he would forget her, as 
 he had many a one before. 
 
 As the ship's cargo was again being put 
 on board, and the time of her departure drew 
 near, his visits to her father were more 
 frequent, and his attentions to Maria more 
 decided; at length the vessel was declared 
 c 
 
26 GOMEROCK CASTLE ; OR, 
 
 fit for sea, and the pilot dropped her down 
 into the Bight, to be ready to sail with the 
 early morning tide, which would turn about 
 four. 
 
 The moon was near the full, the evening 
 beautifully serene, the captain had gone on 
 shore to settle his accounts, and take his 
 last dinner with the agent, who had invited 
 a few friends to drink success to his voyage. 
 
 All was ready on board, when Henry, 
 availing himself of the opportunity, landed 
 at Kingswear for the last time. Maria had 
 anxiously expected him, and a few minutes 
 brought them to their favourite haunt. They 
 wandered about, unconscious of time, until 
 at last they found themselves seated on the 
 walls of the little Castle, close to the water ; 
 for there, under the shadow of the cliff, 
 they could freely speak of all their future 
 hopes, and pledge their mutual vows of 
 constancy. 
 
 Henry had j ust taken from his bosom a 
 
THE GRAVE OF THE UNKNOWN. 27 
 
 locket with his mother's hair, which she had 
 given him, w^hen he first left her for England, 
 and which he prized as his own life ; and 
 with a feeling, which those who have not 
 experienced it can little understand, had 
 hung it on his Maria's neck, charging her to 
 look on it daily as the clearest token of his 
 affection, the sole remains to him of a most 
 kind and valued mother, when they were 
 suddenly startled by the hoarse and angry 
 voice of the captain — 
 
 " I have found you at last ! " he exclaimed; 
 4 'and with Maria ! : ' 
 
 Inflamed with furv, he collected all his 
 strength, and struck the mate a blov; which 
 felled him to the ground. Maria shrieked, 
 and, whilst the captain bent over his victim, 
 she escaped far enough up the path to be 
 unperceived by him, whilst she watched, with 
 wild anxiety, the scene which was to follow. 
 She thought she saw the captain lift Henry 
 up, and place him on the spot where he had 
 c 2 
 
28 GOMEROCK CASTLE ; OR, 
 
 been before seated. She heard a low voice, 
 but from whom it came she could not tell ; 
 the horror of what she had witnessed kept 
 her rivetted to the spot on which she stood ; 
 but when she saw the captain turn suddenly 
 round, as if to seek her, she fled precipitately 
 from the spot, and, entering her house, 
 reached her room, she knew not how. 
 
 Her father had not noticed her return, 
 and, throwing herself on her bed, she swooned 
 away. Eecovering from her faintness, she 
 burst into a violent flood of tears, which so 
 far relieved her mind as to recall her wander- 
 ing thoughts. Her first impulse was to go 
 to the door, and watch for those she had left 
 at the Castle; for the ship's boat was at the 
 Ferry-slip, and some of her crew were seated 
 in the kitchen, in deep conversation with her 
 father. All was still as death without. 
 Maria's anxiety was too great to allow her 
 to remain at the door : she stole uncon- 
 sciously up the steps, and wandered on 
 
THE GRAVE OF THE UNKNOWN. 29 
 
 towards the Castle ; but had only proceeded 
 a short distance, when she heard a footstep. 
 She listened attentively. It was approach- 
 ing, but it was that of a single person ; and 
 before she could decide what course to take, 
 the captain had seized her hand. 
 
 "Dearest Maria!" he said, "into what a 
 state of mind have you unconsciously brought 
 me ! I loved you, and I believed that I was 
 not indifferent to you. I saw you smile 
 upon my mate, but I did not regard it. The 
 event of to-night has opened my eyes to the 
 truth. He is faint from the blow which, in 
 my drunken fury, I struck him ; and I have 
 left him on the seat where I found you. My 
 boat is at the slip. I will pull directly to the 
 place, and carry him off to the ship ; and 
 to-morrow, before we sail, if it be too early 
 to come on shore, he shall write to you by the 
 pilot. Farewell, dear Maria!" he added, 
 " do not go there, as my men will meet you; 
 but wait upon the cliff, and you will see me 
 
30 GOMEROCK CASTLE ; OR, 
 
 perform my promise. Farewell!" he re- 
 peated, but it was in a voice which was 
 not natural to him ; and when she re- 
 covered from the wild feelings which this 
 unexpected conversation had created, a chill 
 came over her, for which she could not 
 account. 
 
 " The captain's manner/' she said to her- 
 self, " is so changed, and there was a sort 
 of trembling motion in his hand when he 
 took leave of me/' 
 
 She was still absorbed in these thoughts 
 when she heard the oars of the captain's 
 boat, and soon saw her go to the ship. In 
 a few minutes, she was again on her way to 
 the Castle ; and with streaming eyes poor 
 Maria watched every movement that she 
 fancied was taking place at the spot where 
 she had left her lover. In her anxiety, she 
 fancied that the boat was a much longer 
 time there than could be necessary for taking 
 him on board, and a thousand conjectures 
 
THE GRAVE OF THE UNKNOWN. 31 
 
 crossed her mind ; but they fled as fast as 
 they came. At last she saw the boat moving 
 towards the ship, which was too close under 
 the opposite shore to allow Maria to see 
 who went on board. She could only hope 
 all was right ; and that the morning would 
 bring her a letter, if Henry could not come 
 himself, 
 
 Exhausted with the various scenes through 
 which she had passed, she at length tore her- 
 self from the spot, and retired hastily to bed, 
 but not to sleep. She no sooner composed 
 herself, as she believed, than the dreadful 
 blow which the captain had given her lover 
 rung in her ears, and his dying body seemed 
 to lie before her. She started from her 
 pillow, but found it a delusion. Again she 
 tried to sleep, and the dying man appeared 
 more plainly than before. He spoke — blessed 
 her — and bade her adieu, for ever. She 
 sprung from her bed, but ere she reached 
 the floor, she fainted ; and when she again 
 
32 gomerock castle; or, 
 
 came to herself, the visions which had ap- 
 peared to her in the night were so stamped 
 upon her fevered brain, that she could scarcely 
 doubt of their reality. 
 
 " This state of suspense/* she said to her- 
 self, " is too dreadful. I will go to the cliff. 
 I can then gaze on his vessel. I may see 
 him, perhaps, coming to me." 
 
 Full of these thoughts, she hastily dressed 
 herself, and reached the spot from whence 
 she had watched the boat on the preceding 
 night. 
 
 Morning had begun to dawn, and there 
 was light enough to shew her that the ship 
 was gone. 
 
 " I will follow it," she said. " I may see 
 her again before she clears the land." 
 
 The thought gave her strength, and she 
 ran along the cliffs, until she could see the 
 Start Point. 
 
 The sun had now risen so far above the 
 horizon, and cast its beams so brightly across 
 the bay, that the ship was clearly visible, 
 
THE GKAVE OF THE UNKNOWN. 33 
 
 though it had proceeded many miles upon 
 its voyage. 
 
 " What can this mean ?" she thought. 
 " He was to come to me, or to have sent a 
 letter by the pilot. But there has been 
 no boat from the vessel ; for I should have 
 heard the oars, if I could not have seen 
 it." Again the visions of the night, mixed 
 with the real scenes she had witnessed, 
 rushed on her mind, and so oppressed her, 
 that she unconsciously wandered back to the 
 Castle. She wished to descend to the fatal 
 spot, from which, in her alarm, she had so 
 precipitately fled ; yet a stronger feeling 
 seemed to check the wish, and it was some 
 time before she could compose herself 
 sufficiently to undertake the task. Half 
 frantic, she knew not why, she hurried 
 tremblingly down the winding path that 
 led to it, anxious to discover, by the ap- 
 pearance of the ground where Henry had 
 fallen, what had been the conclusion of 
 the terrible scene of the preceding night, 
 
34 GOMEROCK CASTLE ; OR, 
 
 great was her horror on finding that the 
 grass had been recently removed, and hastily 
 replaced ; and that the earth which had been 
 taken from beneath it lay scattered upon the 
 rocks, over which it had been cast into the 
 sea. " It is clear, then/' she said, " that it 
 was not a dream, but a dreadful reality. I 
 did see him, and he did indeed bid me fare- 
 well — and for ever!" .... 
 
 She fell senseless on the grave. 
 
 When she recovered her senses, she endea- 
 voured to collect all her energy to leave the 
 spot unperceived, and return home. At length 
 she accomplished her object: and when her 
 father asked her what had detained her so 
 long, he turned away before she could attempt 
 a reply; for his Maria was every thing to him, 
 and the tears which streamed down her 
 cheeks confirmed his suspicion of her attach- 
 ment, whilst they prevented any further in- 
 quiry into the real cause of her dejection. 
 
 Night after night would poor Maria wander 
 
THE GRAVE OF THE UNKNOWN. 35 
 
 to the spot where her lover lay, and sit and 
 watch, by moonlight, the turf that covered 
 his cold remains — clasping the locket to her 
 bosom, or bathing it in tears, until her mind 
 became half frantic : and when the paroxysm 
 of grief was over, so dreadful a gloom would 
 follow, that her father, alarmed at her 
 wretched condition, tried, by every means in 
 his power, to divert her attention, and restore 
 her to her former cheerfulness. It was to no 
 purpose — all around appeared to her a per- 
 fect blank ; she heeded little that was said to 
 her ; her wanderings were her only solace : 
 these became more frequent, but her nightly 
 sufferings were known to no one. Still she 
 struggled against her misery, and was always 
 ready to do her duty in the house — to join 
 her father at his meals, and watch over him 
 with the most affectionate solicitude. In her 
 more tranquil moments, she felt that he was 
 all that was left to her — the only living soul 
 for whom she had any regard. 
 
36 G0MER0CK CASTLE ; OR, 
 
 One morning, she came not down at her 
 usual hour. Her father, alarmed, hastened 
 to her room. Her bonnet and cloak were 
 gone — it was clear she had not slept there. 
 " Gracious Heaven !" he said ; " what can 
 have happened ?" 
 
 He hurried to the Castle as fast as his old 
 and trembling limbs would carry him ; but 
 all was peace and solitude. He searched the 
 cliffs — he called loudly upon his Maria ; but 
 no voice answered him. 
 
 Half frantic, he returned to his house. 
 As he entered, he heard some pilots talking 
 anxiously in the kitchen. 
 
 " I knew not what it was/' said one ; " but 
 I swear I saw it spring from the rock, and 
 disappear/' 
 
 " And so did I," said another. " We were 
 just passing between the Castles, — it was 
 about eleven o'clock ; the moon was up, and 
 we were taking out the brig bound up the 
 Straits. I was at the helm, — and I would 
 
THE GRAVE OF THE UNKNOWN. 37 
 
 swear it must have been the ghost of a 
 woman. I never was so frightened ; it dis- 
 appeared so suddenly. The boy Hamilton 
 was looking over the larboard gangway, and 
 he saw it as well as I did." 
 
 "When did you see it ?" exclaimed Black- 
 aller, who by this time had reached the 
 room. " Where did you see it ? what was it 
 like ? Speak, man ! 
 
 "It was like a tall woman/' he replied: 
 " it was on the rocks under the old Castle." 
 
 " It was my Maria ! Her frenzied brain 
 could no longer bear the weight of its misery, 
 
 and she has " but before he could finish 
 
 his sentence, Blackaller had fallen lifeless 
 on the ground. 
 
 His manly heart, which had braved a 
 thousand dangers, had lost the only tie that 
 bound him to the world, — the beloved resem- 
 blance of her whose life he had saved at the 
 peril of his own, and who had forsaken kin- 
 dred and friends to share the fate of the 
 captain of the " Black Hover." 
 
38 GOMEROCK CASTLE ; OR, 
 
 He could have led again his long-lost 
 gallant crew on the most desperate enter- 
 prise, and looked calmly on death in every 
 shape ; but the last strand of the cable by 
 which his storm-worn bark was moored to 
 life, had parted — his whole soul was bound 
 up in that of his Maria. 
 
 Yet the mate's body lay not in the ruins of 
 the Castle. 
 
 A seaman, in a wind-bound ship about to 
 sail, had breathed his last, and his captain 
 (as was too often the custom, to save the ex- 
 penses of a funeral, and yet not cast the body 
 into the sea) brought it to that spot, and 
 buried it, soon after the mate had been carried 
 on board his ship. 
 
 The varied scenes of that eventful night 
 had detained the captain and crew of the 
 Meridian till a late hour. A slight breeze 
 from the land enabled the captain to leave 
 the port without waiting for tide or pilot ; 
 and thus, in the confusion and distress which 
 
THE GRAVE OF THE UNKNOWN. 39 
 
 his conscious mind now told him he had 
 brought upon himself, he sailed, without 
 fulfilling his last promise to Maria. And if 
 the kind forgiveness of the mate had not 
 wrought an entire change in his fierce temper 
 during their voyage, the sad tidings which 
 awaited their return to England made him 
 indeed an altered man. Henry Mordaunt 
 was ever after to him as an injured son ; he 
 was his only care through life ; and if the 
 captain's future conduct was a proof of a 
 repentant mind, he died in peace. 
 
 The family of Blackaller has long ceased 
 to exist in Kingswear. Some poor relations 
 shared by will the little wealth old William 
 had accumulated, which, if w T on in strife and 
 blood, was well bestowed on those whom he 
 had long assisted in their honest struggles 
 against biting poverty. It was bestowed on 
 one condition — that he should be buried in 
 the churchyard of his native place, beside his 
 long-lost mother, without any stone to mark 
 
40 
 
 GOMEROCK CASTLE. 
 
 his grave. And those who shared his money 
 felt it might be wise in them never to name 
 their benefactor. 
 
 No trace where he was laid can now be 
 found. If he had drawn a pirate's sword, let 
 all who hear the story of his life pause and 
 scan their own before they cast a stone at 
 that of William Blackaller. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 T. C. Savill, Printer, 107, St. Martin's Lane. 
 


 I 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 014 388 344 9 
 

 \H>W 
 
 f 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 014 388 344 9 • 
 
 Hollinger Corp. 
 pH 8.5 
 
]uui|||^puuu^u||y|U|uuuuyuyuuy^iu||UL 
 
 \^ m , £ 
 
 CM 
 
 CD 
 CM 
 
 CD 
 O 
 
 o o k g 
 
 I 
 
 'iiEI> 
 
 IS!! 
 
 Ill, 
 
 , III