Amelia edwards the phantom coach. Amelia B. Edwards (Author of The Phantom Coach) 2022-11-16
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Amelia Edwards was a Victorian-era novelist, journalist, and Egyptologist who is best known for her work in the field of ancient Egyptian archaeology. Among her many accomplishments, Edwards is perhaps most famous for her discovery of the tomb of Pharaoh Amenhotep II, which was found in the Valley of the Kings in Egypt in 1898.
In addition to her work as an archaeologist, Edwards was also a prolific writer and journalist, and she is perhaps best known for her short story "The Phantom Coach," which was first published in 1864. The story, which has since become a classic of Victorian literature, tells the tale of a group of travelers who are forced to take shelter in an old coaching inn during a storm. As they sit around the fire, they begin to tell ghost stories, and one of the travelers relates the tale of a phantom coach that is said to roam the countryside, carrying the souls of the damned to their final destination.
The story of the phantom coach is a chilling tale that has captured the imagination of readers for over 150 years. It is a testament to Edwards' storytelling ability that she was able to create such a memorable and enduring tale, and it is no wonder that "The Phantom Coach" has remained popular for so long.
Despite her many achievements in the fields of archaeology and literature, Amelia Edwards is perhaps most remembered today for her contributions to the field of Egyptology. Her work in this area has helped to shed light on the ancient civilizations of Egypt and has helped to preserve their rich cultural heritage for future generations. She was a true pioneer in the field of archaeology, and her contributions will be remembered for years to come.
Short Stories: The Phantom Coach by Amelia Edwards
By taking a gondola to St Mark's Place we shall be there in a quarter of an hour. The camp lay around us, one sheet of smooth dazzling snow; the clouds had parted, and were clearing off rapidly in every direction; and just over the Archduke's tent where the Imperial banner hung drooping and heavy, the full moon was rising in splendour. Going along, I told myself that I had only come to reconnoitre. I slept that night at Trieste, and went on next day to Venice. Then a wavering speck of light came suddenly out of the dark, shifting, disappearing, growing momentarily nearer and brighter. Musing thus over what I had heard, and striving to recall a lost link here and there, I strode on at the heels of my guide, absorbed and unobservant.
By-and-by--I forget now by what link of conjecture or illustration--he passed on to that field which lies beyond the boundary line of even conjectural philosophy, and reaches no man knows whither. How tiresome you both are! She was in my power, and I would be avenged. At length there came a day when I felt I could bear the horrible misery and suspense of it no longer. There were but three travellers inside, so I stepped in, shut the door, slipped into the vacant corner, and congratulated myself on my good fortune. A little later, and he spent his days on a couch beside the open window, waiting patiently for the end. A year of more than ordinarily fatiguing Eastern travel had left me in need of rest, and I had resolved to allow myself a month's sketching in Venice and its neighbourhood before turning my face homewards. The floor was almost breaking away beneath my feet.
The times are rich in great soldiers. He promised in the readiest manner to do all that I required, and to breakfast with me at six the next morning, in order that we might reach the cemetery by eight. I knew at once that it was Lichtenstein and his troop. The coachman pulled up; the guard, muffled to the eyes in capes and comforters, and apparently sound asleep in the rumble, neither answered my hail nor made the slightest effort to dismount; the outside passenger did not even turn his head. As I fell back in the first shock of surprise, he stepped nearer; took my place at the engine, and turned the steam off. I lost sensation in my hands, and grasped my gun mechanically.
A few scant blades of grass had sprung up here and there upon the grave. How silent it seemed now, with only my footsteps to listen to; how silent and how solitary! I even breathed with difficulty, as though, instead of traversing a quiet north country highway, I were scaling the uppermost heights of some gigantic Alp. His case, they said, was difficult and dangerous. Not a sound, save the rapid crunching of the snow beneath our feet, disturbed the heavy stillness of the night. It was just twenty years ago, and within a day or two of the end of the grouse season. The comparison of causes with effects, however valuable in physical science, is put aside as worthless and unreliable.
The Phantom Coach & Other Stories: "All. Four were found dead, and t'other two died next morning" by Amelia Edwards
Coming upon the French by surprise in the close neighbourhood of Ampfing on the 30th, we fell upon them while in line of march, threw them into confusion, and put them to the rout. He, too, was looking at me, with the same startling pallor in his face, and the same stony glitter in his eyes. You remember him--an old man who used to haunt the shop a month or two back. The other was stored with flour-sacks, agricultural implements, casks, and all kinds of miscellaneous lumber; while from the beams overhead hung rows of hams, flitches, and bunches of dried herbs for winter use. Amelia was always a great reader, favourite writers being Harrison Ainsworth, Walter Scott, and the Brontës, though in later life she much preferred Dickens, Trollope, and Thackeray. The stone by which she watched was not more motionless.
Miss Brocklehurst on the Nile: diary of a Victorian traveller in Egypt. They happened to myself, and my recollection of them is as vivid as if they had taken place only yesterday. Smaller and less incongruous in its arrangements than the hall, this room contained, nevertheless, much to awaken my curiosity. The icy coldness of the night air had struck a chill to my very marrow, and the strange smell inside the coach was affecting me with an intolerable nausea. I turned to the passenger on the seat beside my own, and saw--oh Heaven! In this snowdrift I was discovered at daybreak, by a couple of shepherds, who carried me to the nearest shelter, and brought a surgeon to my aid. The whitewashed walls were in parts scrawled over with strange diagrams, and in others covered with shelves crowded with philosophical instruments, the uses of many of which were unknown to me. Every part of it was not only out of repair, but in a condition of decay.
With her own hand she wrote innumerable letters, acknowledged the receipt of subscriptions, and labelled the objects presented to museums. Copyright laws are changing all over the world. It's never been mended since the accident. In another minute he had turned the key and I had pushed past him into the house. And now for a parting glass, and good bye! But how should I address her? She had honoured me with her confidence, and entrusted to me a task of some difficulty and importance.
The afternoon was far advanced; the sun was near going down; we had the Lagune and the Lido to ourselves. I saw that he was no living man -- that none of them were living men, like myself! Running towards it at full speed, I found myself, to my great joy, face to face with an old man and a lantern. The comparison of causes with effects, however valuable in physical science, is put aside as worthless and unreliable. The six locomotives were not only turned out to time, but were shipped, despatched, and delivered with a promptitude that fairly amazed our Piedmontese consignee. The whole thing was so cold-blooded, so deliberate, so shameful, that I felt I had only to wipe her out of my memory, and leave her to her fate. It was not his fault.