It was very natural that when Hannah was brought on shore and found out
what was going to be done with her, she should screech in a most
dreadful manner, and although the pirates soon silenced her and covered
her up, they did not succeed in silencing her spirit, and ever since
that time,--according to the stories told by some of the older
inhabitants of Cape Cod,--there may be heard in the early dusk of the
evening the screeches of Hannah coming across the water from her little
island to the mainland.
Mr. James Herbert Morse has written a ballad founded upon this peculiar
incident, and with the permission of the author we give it here:--
THE LADY HANNAH.
"Now take my hand," quoth Captain Kidd,
"The air is blithe, I scent the meads."
He led her up the starlit sands,
Out of the rustling reeds.
The great white owl then beat his breast,
Athwart the cedars whirred and flew;
"There's death in our handsome captain's eye"
Murmured the pirate's crew.
And long they lay upon their oars
And cursed the silence and the chill;
They cursed the wail of the rising wind,
For no man dared be still.
Of ribald songs they sang a score
To stifle the midnight sobs and sighs,
They told wild tales of the Indian Main,
To drown the far-off cries.
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