725 A. From Phantasms of the Living, vol. i. p. 556. The account was received in 1882, from Captain G. F. Russell Colt, of Gartsherrie, Coatbridge, N.B.

I was at home for my holidays, and residing with my father and mother, not here, but at another old family place in Mid-Lothian, built by an ancestor in Mary Queen of Scots' time, called Inveresk House. My bedroom was a curious old room, long and narrow, with a window at one end of the room and a door at the other. My bed was on the right of the window, looking towards the door. I had a very dear brother (my eldest brother), Oliver, lieutenant in the 7th Royal Fusiliers. He was about nineteen years old, and had at that time been some months before Sebastopol. I corresponded frequently with him; and once when he wrote in low spirits, not being well, I said in answer that he was to cheer up, but that if anything did happen to him, he must let me know by appearing to me in my room, where we had often as boys together sat at night and indulged in a surreptitious pipe and chat. This letter (I found subsequently) he received as he was starting to receive the Sacrament from a clergyman who has since related the fact to me. Having done this, he went to the entrenchments and never returned, as in a few hours afterwards the storming of the Redan commenced. He, on the captain of his company falling, took his place, and led his men bravely on.

He had just led them within the walls, though already wounded in several places, when a bullet struck him on the right temple and he fell amongst heaps of others, where he was found in a sort of kneeling posture (being propped up by other dead bodies) thirty-six hours afterwards. His death took place, or rather he fell,though he may not have died immediately, on the 8th September 1855.

That night I awoke suddenly, and saw facing the window of my room, by my bedside, surrounded by a light sort of phosphorescent mist, as it were, my brother kneeling. I tried to speak but could not. I buried my head in the bedclothes, not at all afraid (because we had all been brought up not to believe in ghosts or apparitions), but simply to collect my ideas, because I had not been thinking or dreaming of him, and, indeed, had forgotten all about what I had written to him a fortnight before. I decided that it must be fancy, and the moonlight playing on a towel, or something out of place. But on looking up, there he was again, looking lovingly, imploringly, and sadly at me. I tried again to speak, but found myself tongue-tied. I could not utter a sound. I sprang out of bed, glanced through the window, and saw that there was no moon, but it was very dark and raining hard, by the sound against the panes. I turned, and still saw poor Oliver. I shut my eyes, walked through it, and reached the door of the room. As I turned the handle, before leaving the room, I looked once more back. The apparition turned round his head slowly and again looked anxiously and lovingly at me, and I saw then for the first time a wound on the right temple with a red stream from it.

His face was of a waxy pale tint, but transparent-looking, and so was the reddish mark. But it is almost impossible to describe his appearance. I only know I shall never forget it. I left the room and went into a friend's room, and lay on the sofa the rest of the night. I told him why. I told others in the house, but when I told my father, he ordered me not to repeat such nonsense, and especially not to let my mother know.

On the Monday following l he received a note from Sir Alexander Milne to say that the Redan was stormed, but no particulars. I told my friend to let me know if he saw the name among the killed and wounded before me. About a fortnight later he came to my bedroom in his mother's house in Athole Crescent, in Edinburgh, with a very grave face. I said, "I suppose it is to tell me the sad news I expect;" and he said "Yes." Both the colonel of the regiment and one or two officers who saw the body confirmed the fact that the appearance was much according to my description, and the death-wound was exactly where I had seen it. But none could say whether he actually died at the moment. His appearance, if so, must have been some hours after death, as he appeared to me a few minutes after two in the morning. Months later, a small prayer-book and the letter I had written to him were returned to Inveresk, found in the inner breast pocket of his tunic which he wore at his death. I have them now.

The account in the London Gazette Extraordinary of September 22nd, 1855, shows that the storming of the Redan began shortly after noon on September 8th, and lasted upwards of an hour and a half. We learn from Russell's account that "the dead, the dying, and the uninjured were all lying in piles together"; and it would seem that the search for the wounded was still continuing on the morning of the 9th. The exact time of Lieutenant Oliver Colt's death is uncertain.

1 Communication with the Crimea was then conducted by telegraph for only part of the way.

Captain Colt mentioned several persons who could corroborate this narrative. We received the following letter from his sister, Mrs. Hope, of Fermoy:-

December 12th, 1882.

On the morning of September 8th, 1855, my brother, Mr. Colt, told myself, Captain Ferguson of the 42nd regiment, since dead, and Major Borthwick of the Rifle Brigade (who is living), and others, that he had during the night awakened from sleep and seen, as he thought, my eldest brother, Lieutenant Oliver Colt of the Royal Fusiliers (who was in the Crimea), standing between his bed and the door; that he saw he was wounded in more than one place - I remember he named the temple as one place - by bullet-wounds; that he aroused himself, rushed to the door with closed eyes and looked back at the apparition, which stood between him and the bed. My father enjoined silence, lest my mother should be made uneasy; but shortly afterwards came the news of the fall of the Redan and my brother's death. Two years afterwards, my husband, Colonel Hope, invited my brother to dine with him; the former being still a lieutenant in the Royal Fusiliers, the latter an ensign in the Royal Welsh Fusiliers. While dining they were talking of my eldest brother. My husband was about to describe his appearance when found, when my brother described what he had seen, and to the astonishment of all present, the description of the wounds tallied with the facts.

My husband was my eldest brother's greatest friend, and was among those who saw the body as soon as it was found.

It will be seen that this corroboration varies from the previous account in two points, which, however, do not greatly affect its value. The date was really September 9th, not the 8th - but it is very natural that the vision should have become associated with the memorable date, which was of course the 8th; and the figure was kneeling, not standing.