The voice of freedom. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1839-1848, 1839-07-20

IDculilS OIL lldl pllllGSS neSl, DellCFcN
in the home that they never more must see, and
with hollow, reproachful voices, besought bread,
and wondered why water was withheld from them
! by the hands that were most dear. A few whose
worst passions were quckened by alcohol to a
|6end-Elke fury, assaulted or wounded those who
came in their way, making their shreks of def
ance and their curses heard above the roar of the
storm. incompetence never displayed itself in
more distressing attitudes. At length, Death be-
can to do his work The miserable creatures fell
dead every hour upon the deck, being frozen stiff
and hard. Each corpse, as it became breathless
was laid upon the heap of dead that more space
might be left for The survivors. Those who
drank most freely were the first to- perish. On
the third day of these horrors, the inhabitants of
Plymouth, after making many Intellectual attempts,
reached the wreck, not without danger. What
melancholy spectacle !-Lifeess bodies, stiflen-
ed into every form, that suffering could devise
Many lay in a vast pile. Others sat, with their
heads reclining on their knees others grasping
the Recovered ropes; some in posture of defence
like the dying gladiator; others, with hands held
up to heaven, as if deprecating their fate. Orders
were given 10 search earnestly for every mark or
sign of life. One boy was distinguished amid the
mass of Dead only by the trembling of one of
his eye-lids. The poor survivors were kindly re-
ceived into the houses of the people of Plymouth,
and every effort used for their restoration. The
Captain and Lieutenant, and few others, who
had abstained from the use of ardent spirits sur
Ivived The remainder were buried, some in sep
arate graves, and others in large pit, whose hol
low is still to be seen, on the southwest side Of
the battle-ground in Plymouth. The funeral
obseques were most solemn. When the clergy
man who was to perform the last services, first
entered and saw more than seventy dead bodies,
some fixing upon him their stony eyes, and others
with faces stf1encd into the horrible expression of
their last mortal agony, he was so affected as to
faint.
Some were brought on shore alive, and received
every attention, but survived only short time
Others were restored after long sickness, but with
their limbs so injured by the frost, as to become
cripples for life.
In a village at some distance from Plymouth,
widowed mother, with her daughter, were seen
constantly attending couch on which lay a suffer-
er. 1t was the boy whose trembling eye-lid at
tractcd the notice of pity, as he Ivy among the
dead
Mother" he said in feeble tonc " God bless
you for having taught Inc to avoid ardent spirits
1t was this that saved me. After those around
me grew intoxicated, had enough to do to pro-
tect myself from them. Some attacked and dared
me 10 fight. Others pressed the poisonous draught
to my lips, and babe me drink. My lips and throat
were parched with thirst. But knew if drank
with them, must lose my reason, as they did,
and perhaps blaspheme my Maker
One by one, they died, those poor, Infatuated
wretches. Their shrieks and groans still seem to
ring in my ears 1t was in vain that the Captain
and other officers, and few good men, warned
them of what would ensue,, if they thus continued
to drink-and tried every method in their power
to restore them to order. They still fed upon the
intoxicating liquor. They grew deliriouS-they
died in heaps.
Dear mother, our suf1erings from hunger and
cold you cannot imagine. After my feet were fro
zen, but before | lost the use Of my hands, dis
covered box, among fragments of the wreck,
far under water toiled with a rope to drag it
up. But my strength was not sufficient. A COM
rade, who was still able to move little, assisted
me. AT length it came within our reach. We
hoped that it might contain bread and took cour-
age. Uniting our strength, we burst it open.
1t contained only few bottles of olive oil. Yet
we gave God thanks. For we found that by occa-
sionally mostening our lips with it, and swallow
ing little, it alayed the gnawing burning pain
in the stomach. Then my comrade died And
lay beside him, as one dead, surrounded by corp
seS. Presently, the violence Of The tempest, that
had so long ragged, subsided-and heard quick
footsteps and strange voices amid the wreck where
we lay, They were the blessed people of Ply
mouth, who had dared every danger to save us.
They liltedin their arms, and wrapped in blank
ITS, all who could speak Then they earnestly
sought all who could move. But every drunk
lrd was among the dead. And was so exhaust
ID with toll, and suffering, and cold that | could
lot stretch hand to my deliverers. They pass
ID me again and again. They carried the living
O the boat feared that was left behind. Then
prayed earnestly in my heart, 'Oh Lord, for the
axe Of my widowed mother, for the sake Of my
lear sister, save me-. Methought the last man had
zone, and | besought the Redeemer to receive my
pirit But felt warm breath on my face. !
trained every nerve. My whole soul strove and
hudderod within me- Still my body was i'm
noveable as marble. Then loud voice said,
Come back, and help me out with this poor lad.
)nc of his eye-lids trembes-he lives Oh, the
music of that sweet voice to me! The trembling
ye-lid-the prayer to God and your lessons of
amperance, my mother, saved me-"
Then the loving sister embraced him with
the mother said, "prasc be to Him who
ath spared my son to be the comfort of my age.
Hartford, June 5th, 1889.
Goodness of Heart. r
I