Twenty-Seven Years in Canada West eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 232 pages of information about Twenty-Seven Years in Canada West.

Twenty-Seven Years in Canada West eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 232 pages of information about Twenty-Seven Years in Canada West.

He took a passage for himself and family in a ship, timber-laden, from Quebec, bound for Liverpool.  It was late in the fall:  the vessel was one of the last that sailed; consequently, they experienced very rough weather, accompanied with snow and sleet.  Mid-way across the Atlantic, they encountered a dreadful storm, which left the ship a mere wreck on the ocean.  To add to their misfortunes, a plank had started, owing, it was supposed, to the shifting of some part of the cargo during the gale; and so quickly did the vessel fill that they only saved two eight-pound pieces of salt pork and a few biscuits.

“I had,” he said, “also in my pocket, a paper containing two or three ounces of cream of tartar.  Luckily, a cask of water, lashed on deck, was providentially preserved, amidst the general destruction.

“Our ship’s company consisted of the captain, mate, and six seamen, besides a medical man, myself, my poor wife, and two children, who were cabin passengers.  We made several unsuccessful attempts to procure a supply of provisions; consequently, it became absolutely necessary to give out what we had in the smallest possible rations.

“The fourth night was ushered in by another storm, more terrific even than the last.  A heavy sea struck the vessel, sweeping overboard the captain and three seamen; and the poor doctor’s leg was broken at the same time, by a loose spar.

“We passed a fearful night; nor did the morning add to our comfort, for my daughter died from exposure and want, just as the day dawned.

“On the seventh morning, the doctor, who had suffered the greatest agony from his swollen leg, sank at last; the paper of cream of tartar I had in my pocket being the only relief for his dreadful fever, during his misery.  My poor wife and remaining child soon followed.  We now had fine dry weather, which was some relief to our intolerable misery.

“On the twentieth day, the last of our provisions was consumed.  I had an old pair of deer-skin mocassins on my feet:  these we carefully divided amongst us.  We had now serious thoughts of drawing lots, to see which of us should die, for the preservation of the rest.  I, however, begged they would defer such a dreadful alternative to the latest minute.

“On the twenty-first night of our disaster, I had a most remarkable dream:  I thought I saw a fine ship bearing down to our assistance, and that she was called “The London of London.”  I related my dream to my companions, in hopes it might raise their spirits, which, however, it failed to do; for nothing was to be seen on that dreary waste of water, though we scanned the horizon in every direction.  For upwards of two hours after, we scarcely spoke a word, when suddenly the sun, which had been obscured all the morning, shone out brightly and warm for the season of the year.  I mechanically raised myself and looked over the bulwarks, when, to my astonishment and delight, I beheld a ship, the very counterpart of the one I had seen in my dream, bearing down directly for the wreck.

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Twenty-Seven Years in Canada West from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.