The Journey From The Island To The States Is In Itself By No Means An Easy
One, And Is Rendered Still More Difficult By The Want Of Arrangement On
The Part Of Those Who Conduct The Transit Of Travellers.
The inhabitants
of our eastern colonies do not understand the value of time, consequently
the uncertain arrivals and departures of the Lady Le Marchant furnish
matter for numerous speculations.
From some circumstances which had
occurred within my knowledge - one being that the captain of this steamer
had forgotten to call for the continental mails - I did not attach much
importance to the various times which were fixed definitely for her
sailing between the hours of four and ten.
A cloudy, gloomy night had succeeded to the bright blaze of an August day,
and midnight was fast approaching before the signal-bell rang. Two friends
accompanied me as far as Bedeque, and, besides the gentleman under whose
escort I was to travel, there were twelve island gentlemen and two ladies,
all supposed to be bound, like myself, for Boston. All separate
individualities were, however, lost amid the confusion of bear-skin and
waterproof coats and the impenetrable darkness which brooded both on wharf
and steamer.
An amusing scene of bungling marked our departure from Charlotte Town. The
captain, a sturdy old Northumbrian seaman, thoroughly understood his
business; but the owners of the ship compelled him to share its management
with a very pertinacious pilot, and the conflicting orders given, and the
want of harmony in the actions produced, gave rise to many reflections on
the evils of divided responsibility. On the night in question some
mysterious spell seemed to bind us to the shores of Prince Edward Island.
In an attempt to get the steamer off she ran stern foremost upon the
bowsprit of a schooner, then broke one of the piles of the wharf to
pieces, crushing her fender to atoms at the same time. Some persons on the
pier, compassionating our helplessness, attempted to stave the ship off
with long poles, but this well-meant attempt failed, as did several
others, until some one suggested to the captain the very simple expedient
of working the engines, when the steamer moved slowly away, smashing the
bulwarks of a new brig, and soon in the dark and murky atmosphere the few
lights of Charlotte Town ceased to be visible.
The compass was then required, but the matches in the ship hung fire; and
when a passenger at length produced a light, it was discovered that the
lamp in the binnacle was without that essential article, oil. Meanwhile no
one had ascertained what had caused the heavy smash at the outset, and
certain timid persons, in the idea that a hole had been knocked in the
ship's side, were in continual apprehension that she would fill and sink.
To drown all such gloomy anticipations we sang several songs, among others
the appropriate one, "Isle of Beauty, fare thee well." The voices rapidly
grew more faint and spiritless as we stood farther out to sea, a failure
which might have been attributed to grief at leaving old friends on the
chance of making new ones, had not hints and questions been speedily
interchanged, such as "Do you like the sea?" "Are you feeling
comfortable?" "Would you prefer being downstairs?" - and the like.
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