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Long, long ago when three-masted merchant sailing ships plied the waters of Long Island Sound, one such ship departed New York Harbor for Newport, Rhode Island. Ominous dark clouds hung over the region. The air was thick and experienced seamen knew a storm was brewing.
The captain intended to sail his fully-loaded ship into Long Island Sound nonetheless. He had sailed the Sound in bad weather countless times and he viewed this time as no different. He wanted to make it to Newport on time. Not only was his ship carrying a heavy cargo of lumber, but it also was transporting a few horses for delivery in Newport.
His experienced crew went about their tasks with professional precision. Soon, the captain gave the order to let go and haul. The ship maneuvered through Hell Gate and the Devil’s Stepping Stones into Long Island Sound as the winds became violent and the Sound became angry. To make matters worse, the evening was fading away and darkness enveloped the ship.
Neither the captain nor his experienced crew were alarmed. Instead, the captain began looking for a sheltered cove where his ship might ride out the storm. He thought of City Island, Hart Island, and Eastchester Bay at Pelham Bridge. The captain gave the order to come about just as the lookout in the crow’s nest shouted “ship ahoy!”
The captain and his crew turned and could see a large ship advancing on the stern of the merchant ship. Something seemed terribly odd. Despite the darkness, the ship had no navigation lanterns lit.
The captain had no stern chaser to fire a warning. His was a merchant ship. Indeed, only a few of his crew likely had any personal firearms. Now the captain became alarmed.
The large ship advanced quickly on the merchant ship and pulled alongside. “Pirates!” one of the crew members shouted. As quickly as he shouted, a shot rang out and a musket ball dropped that crew member, dead. The captain of the merchant ship shouted “all hands!” but was shot as well before he could finish his command.
Grappling hooks flew. In a moment the heavily-armed pirate crew boarded the merchant ship. There was nary a scuffle. The crew of the merchant ship had been entirely surprised and were overwhelmed.
As the storm intensified, some of the pirates rounded up their victims and tormented them while others of the cutthroats rampaged throughout the merchant ship and looted all valuables they could find. Though not interested in the cargo of lumber and horses, the pirates found many valuables among the possessions of the captain and his crew as they pillaged the merchant ship.
As the storm intensified, both ships were rolling in the high waves. The pirates tied the merchant ship crew tightly to masts and other parts of the ship as the howling wind intensified and the storm displayed peculiarly terrific violence. Most of the pirates disembarked with their loot to their ship. A couple, however, slipped down to the cargo hold of the merchant ship.
Shortly, the two pirates scrambled out of the hold and leaped back onto their ship. Within moments, the orange flicker of flames could be seen coming from the hold. Smoke was billowing and the anguished screams of horses filled the air. The merchant ship was rolling in the heavy seas from side to side as the flames consumed the lumber and the ship.
The poor souls tied to the masts and other parts of the ship struggled and struggled to free themselves to avoid the coming conflagration, all to no avail.
Had the wind not howled so loudly and the rain not pounded so heavily, those along the shores likely would have heard the piteous screams of the merchant ship crew as the flames reached them and slowly burned them to death. The screams seemed unearthly as burning debris cascaded onto the deck of the ship. Soon, the shrieks and screams gave way to nothing but the sound of the howling wind.
Ever since that terrible night long, long ago, mariners and landlubbers alike have reported that during storms on Long Island Sound of peculiarly terrific violence a luminous three-masted merchant ship fully enveloped in a glowing fire may be seen plowing through the waves of the sound with a great white horse stamping and pawing at the heel of the foremast of the ship with a ghostly phantom crew assembled at quarters. As the fiery ship passes, long comet-like streaks of flames and sparks stream from the ship and unearthly screams and shrieks can be heard though the ghostly crew remains motionless and statue-like still assembled at quarters.
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Below is an excerpt of another of many accounts of the Phantom Fire Ship of Long Island Sound on which today's Pelham ghost story is based. The excerpt is followed by a citation and link to its source.
"ON FOOT IN WESTCHESTER.
-----
Revelations of a Tramp Through an Interesting County.
A tramp or a ride through Westchester county, such as a Sun reporter recently took, zigzagging his way often by little-frequented roads, brings to light many interesting nooks with which our readers are little familiar.
There is still standing, not far from Pelham Manor, on a lonely strip of the old post road, overlooking the neck of the Sound, a natural wayside rest, looking like a a giant horse block and almost buried out of sight by weeds and grasses. This stone was once known as Huguenots' Rest, and it recalls a strange old time church going procession. Before the erection of the first Huguenot church in New Rochelle the inhabitants of that settlement footed it regularly every Sunday to New York, to attend services at the old Church du Saint Esprit, in Pine street, returning in the Sabbath evening to their humble homes. This was between 1689 and 1691, and at this stone was one of the customary halting places.
Then as now the neighboring waters were famous for their bass and blackfish, and a little further on there was standing not long ago a weather-stained, shingle sided building whose doorpost bore a quaint emblem, with rude rhymes attached. The design was that of a chestnut leaf and bore these lines:
When chestnut leaves are as big as thumb nails,
Then bite blackfish without fail;
But when chestnut leaves are big as a span;
Then catch black fish if you can.
The reporter came across an old lady in New Rochelle, who remembered her grandmother's abiding belief in the famous Phantom Fire Ship that was so well known to haunt the Sound coast from the boiling waters of Hell Gate to Gardiner's, and the lone beacon tower of old Montauk.
My grandmother was certain, said the old dame, 'that she had once seen the Fire Ship glaring through the darkness, with her phantom crew standing like red-hot statues at their quarters, and the big fiend-horse galloping through the flames, till all, was suddenly caught up in a storm cloud, and, bless you, nothing could have convinced by grandmother that she only dreamed it all.'
The tradition had it that the apparition was that of a ship which had been taken by buccaneers, who had butchered all hands and then set her on fire. A large white horse, which had been found on board, was left near the foremast to perish in the flames. Accordingly, when the Phantom Fire Ship made its appearance, always in storms of exceptional violence, the white-horse might be seen rushing along the deck enveloped in fire, or stamping and pawing at the heel of the foremast, while the phantom crew were assembled at quarters grinning and clapping their red-hot hands. . . ."
Source: ON FOOT IN WESTCHESTER -- Revelations of a Tramp Through an Interesting County, New Rochelle Pioneer, November 7, 1885, p. 2, col. 4.
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