Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1884-03-28

/ turning round ana rOuuu IN the water,
now catching glimpses of the burning
ship, to which even yet few human be-
ings were clinging, and now of the beach.
Could l ever reach il 2 Was it worth
while to struggle any longer Every
movement caused Intense pain in my
chest and lungs. Il seemed so easy to
die now.
81 ceased all efforts and raised my eyes
for last look at the sky. was struck
by peculiar golden haze of the atmos-
phere, and the air seemed filled with
human forms lowering over the drown
ing. The air was filed with them, and
close beside me l recognized my father,
brother and other friends who had died
many years before They called me by
name. They pressed closely around me,
telling me to struggle on and they would
aid me-that my a9al. was not done
hat could not be spafedtyet.
GA little strength came back to me.
I remembered that must be more than
half way to the shore. The water could
not be over five feet deep. let myself
down, and felt the sand under me.
Aided by my spirit friends, whose hands
and presence were as real to me as any
human touch, | crept on my hands and
( knees on the sand for some distance,
rising often to breathe. Becoming too
weak for this, with my heavy head con-
stantly falling backward, l sank to the
bottom, and drew my body with my arms
near and nearer to the shore, rising to
the surface as often as necessary. Aman
was lying on the beach, one of the few
who ever reached it. When he saw me
feebly struggling, he crept down to the
waters edge, and, reaching out his hands,
tried to aid me. | slowly crept up a
little way out of the water, but he was
so weak that falling backward, I would
lose my hold and sink again.
"At last was lying on the Cry sand.
How good it seemed to lie there, if only
need never move again. Ny companion
spoke roughly yet kindly to me, telling
me that it was sure death to remain
there. I refused to move, but, being
much stronger, he compelled me to get
up, and, half supporting me in his arms,
dragged me unwillingly along. A far
mer met us and almost carried me across
the fields to low two-roomed log cabin.
In the smaller room, containing two
beds, / was at last permitted to lie down.
The long black neck of a bottle was in
serted between my lips, and drank until
it was gently removed. The draught
warmed me.
81 alternated between consciousness
and inconsistencies, but remember much
that passed about me. A large man
with tall hat, black satin vest, and
heavy gold chain came in and laid down
upon the other bed He certainly had
not been in the water, and I wondered if
he had been saved in boat. A man in
the next room was exclaiming mourn
fully:
Mine Gotti Mine -Gott! Mine
monish is all gone. Mine monish is all
gone. Mine wife is gone. Mine son is
gone. Oh, mine Gott, mine monish is
all goner
Again and again that mournful wall
went up. Then I heard the tall man
call out wrathfully:
"'Won't some one kill that fellow?'
"Then I dozed off again. When I
awoke, more people were coming in,
bearing woman, and they were saying
she was the only woman saved. | heard
them say that eight men swan ashore,
and twenty were saved in boat. Only
twenty eight saved out of over four hun
dred! Toward evening they put us all
in heavy lumber wagon-on beds of
straw-to take us, they said, to 'Lloyd's
Tavern, three miles away Jolting along
over rough road, the pain in my chest
and limbs became unbearable, and | re-
member nothing more.
"Days afterward | awoke from what
seemed a long sleep. l found myself
lying on bed in a strange room, alone.
! The sound of voices came in through the
open window and from the halls, where
people were constantly passing to and
fro. They were talking of great dis
aster, of dead bodies lying in heaps on
the sand waiting to be claimed, and of
others being buried in trench. There
was something about county lines, of
coroners quarreling over fees, of thieves
in boats at night stripping the drowned
bodies, and tearing rings from fingers
and ears. Those monotonous voices
were forever talking about that one
thing.
"Well, what if they were dead? The
dead were at rest. What had | to dc
with that shipwreck2 Why did not
some one come to me? What was
doing here in this strange room? Why
was so stiff and sore, so full of pain, sc
weak | could not move2 / fell asleer
again, and when awoke still the same
voices were talking about poor drowned
bodies, thieves, coroners and boats
and then came a dim recollection
that I had known something abou
that shipwreck. 1t all came back to me
clear and distinct Soon afterward {
man came with broth and nourish-
ing food, of which I ate with relisl
while he answered my questions. Thi
was Saturday, and had left Buffalo OF
the Sunday preceding. Lloyd's taverr
was fifteen miles from the city of Cleve
land. l must get up. How could | liz
here2 1 must get into the air. | mus
go home. Homel Why, at home doubt
less they mourned me as dead. Lhat
been dead for days to them. begged
the man to bring me some clothes. II,
brought me some old garments much to-
} large for me, with an old black slouche(
hat, and helped me to dress, for / wa
too weak to stand alone. He thel
placed me comfortably in an easy chai
and told me to rest awhile. At length
J feeling rested and stronger, arose anC
, moved slowly across the room toward tn
open door
~ saw a gray-headed old man coming
toward me, poorly dressed with an ole
hat in his hand, and stubby beard OF
his free. / thought that perhaps he wa
also one of the shipwrecked. | spoke t.