Disasters at Sea: The Yankee Gale 1851: The Mystery of the Kirk Bell Pealing 1853

By James W. Macnutt

In October 1851, the bustling harbors of Gloucester, Massachusetts marked the onset of a promising venture as the American fishing fleet set sail towards the bountiful mackerel run in the southern Gulf of St. Lawrence. However, as they neared the waters off Prince Edward Island, Canada, an unanticipated hurricane engulfed them in a tempest of terror and despair, obliterating over 200 schooners and vessels. The calamity claimed the lives of over 100 seamen, a tragic toll that resonated across the waves.

Disasters at Sea unveils the poignant yet inspiring chronicle of the Prince Edward Island residents, who, propelled by compassion, rallied to extend a lifeline to the beleaguered seamen. Their unwavering aid echoed the noble deeds of the Newfoundland residents during the 9/11 crisis. With hearts brimming with empathy, they embarked on a mission of rescue, recovery, and honor for the fallen, manifesting an enduring maritime bond.

This narrative reflects on the ethos of neighborly duty prevalent in the 19th-century Maritime Canada, highlighting a stark contrast against the seemingly indifferent response of the vessel owners in the aftermath, who appeared to evade accountability for the lost souls and shattered vessels. Disasters at Sea navigates through the haunting whys of fate’s discernment amidst the storm, unearthing the profound human spirit that surges even amidst the darkest squalls, painting a timeless tableau of maritime valor and human resilience.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Feb 2, 2024
• ISBN: 9781685621759

James W. Macnutt

James W. Macnutt has been a practising lawyer for over 54 years and was honoured with a K.C. appointment in 1989. He continues in his full-time practice of law with the law firm of Cox & Palmer having offices in each of the four Canadian Atlantic provinces. Mr. Macnutt has written extensively on Canadian architectural, legal and parliamentary history as presented in numerous journal articles and in twelve major publications in book form. He is concentrating now on creative writing in the fictionalized history genre of which the stories in this volume are part. He continues to write and has four new manuscripts in draft form which will be published in due time. Married with two children, Mr. Macnutt has four grandchildren, two girls and two boys who collectively prevent complacency and indolence.

Book preview

About the Author

James W. Macnutt has been a practising lawyer for over 54 years and was honoured with a K.C. appointment in 1989. He continues in his full-time practice of law with the law firm of Cox & Palmer having offices in each of the four Canadian Atlantic provinces.

Mr. Macnutt has written extensively on Canadian architectural, legal and parliamentary history as presented in numerous journal articles and in twelve major publications in book form. He is concentrating now on creative writing in the fictionalized history genre of which the stories in this volume are part. He continues to write and has four new manuscripts in draft form which will be published in due time.

Married with two children, Mr. Macnutt has four grandchildren, two girls and two boys who collectively prevent complacency and indolence.

Dedication

Prince Edward Island is the smallest of the Canadian provinces and a minuscule portion of Canada’s landmass, but it has produced some of the country’s most creative individuals; individuals who have preserved and explored the Canadian scene in paint, architecture, music, dance, language and print.

That dedication on the part of Islanders past and current arises in large measure from the knowledge of the individual and collective identities that comprise the culture of that place and its role in the country.

To those who have interpreted and explored the Island, its past and present in any of its expressive forms, I dedicate this book as one that explores the values and achievements of its people and its seafaring past in particular.

This map was created by surveyor, land agent and photographer H.T. Haszard in 1851 the year of the Yankee Gale. This illustration was taken from The Historical Atlas of Prince Edward Island/The Ways We Saw Ourselves

by the author James W. Macnutt.

Copyright Information ©

James W. Macnutt 2024

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work comprised of fiction and historical fact. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or if based on historical incidents are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Ordering Information

Quantity sales: Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the address below.

Publisher’s Cataloguing-in-Publication data

Macnutt, James W.

Disasters at Sea

ISBN 9781685621742 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781685621759 (ePub e-book)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023920270

www.austinmacauley.com/us

First Published 2024

Austin Macauley Publishers LLC

40 Wall Street, 33rd Floor, Suite 3302

New York, NY 10005

USA

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Acknowledgment

The writing, editing and production of a book is not a solitary enterprise. Like any creative endeavour many contributions go into the final product.

The two stories included in this book record a singular perspective of two historic disasters at sea off the shores of Prince Edward Island in the early 1850s. There are contemporaneous accounts of both events that have left their story alive and of continuing fascination as is evidenced by the frequent writings on these subjects particularly on the Yankee Gale.

Both contemporaneous and contemporary writings have enabled the author to take his unique approach to both incidents bringing them alive with the new perspective offered by the author.

I acknowledge therefore those writers who have written about the incidences keeping the two events alive in the memory of the people of the province which serves as a commemoration of those who suffered while creating part of our living history and our current identity as a people.

One of the most vital contributors who has assisted the author in the development of this book as she has been on several others is Pamela Borden. Pam, as she is known to the legal community and her wide circle of friends, has been my principal editor and guide in grammar, spelling and other aspects of language. I am frequently much too rapid in my writing to give due attention to the technicalities of language for which I rely heavily on Pam. My writing is very old-fashioned: written longhand on legal length yellow foolscap paper. The barely legible product I produce must be transcribed. I acknowledge and give heartfelt thanks to Inez Somers and Sheila Curley for their invaluable work in transcribing my writing.

John Boylan of the Public Archives & Records Office of Prince Edward Island;

Vijay Kallikadavil of Cox & Palmer’s IT department in Charlottetown, P.E.I. for his technical assistance.

I also wish to thank my publisher Austin Macauley for accepting my manuscript and cooperating at every stage with the quality of production including the selection and content of the covers.

Endorsements/Reviews

"The Yankee Gale, a dramatic episode in the history of Prince Edward Island, has become the stuff of legend. The author revisits the story. He uses contemporary newspaper accounts and government documents to convey the extent, and the specifics, of the human tragedy. At the same time, his fictional narrative brings readers into the experience of Island communities and individuals. His picture of the isolation, kindness, and resourcefulness of Islanders in the mid-nineteenth century is centred on the household of a Presbyterian minister whose authority and beliefs are vividly described. The appearance of ghostly figures is well borne out by folklore. This is a fascinating reconstruction of a tragic event."

—Dr. Jessie Lees

"Macnutt has done it again! A delightful and imaginative ‘yarn’ in which the Scottish diaspora is prominent and the interweaving of the Scottish world of superstition and the supernatural come together in this easy-to-read novella set on Prince Edward Island.

The story revolves around the bell of the Kirk of St. James, Charlottetown pealing eight times early one morning coincidentally as aforerunner" perhaps to news about a ship going down in the Northumberland Strait heading for Pictou, Nova Scotia. Of those lost at sea three people had been at the Kirk of St. James the Sunday before their deaths. Hence the occurrences and the question of coincidences.

It is a work which can be read in an evening or two and though often novellas do not start with some historical occurrence they certainly may. Macnutt has combined a strange historical incident in The Mystery of the Kirk Bell Pealing and crafted it with many interesting characters giving theirtales" as describing their experience in the incident and of course much more. The characters of this novella speak for the variety of interpretations about such occurrences and coincidences then and now. I must admit my favourite character was Davy Nicholson the sextant. Rev. Dr William Snodgrass is of course another key character. The author has taken a dramatic licence to craft his narrative of the characters. If readers have read Macnutt’s The Spectre of Stanhope Lane they will appreciate some thematic overlays here such as I have mentioned above.

The author once again demonstrates both intimate knowledge of Charlottetown and of the world of the Scottish diaspora. It is a delight to be taken back to the world of Charlottetown 1853 and to travel its streetscapes. One is drawn in by the characters and by the end of the novella one feels that they know them and they have their favourites. Mrs. Shaw (Chapter 7) and her tales about the ghosts or forerunners in Canoe Cove and Belfast expand the palate on phenomena and makes it all very interesting to read as does the chapter following about the neighbours. Dr Mackieson although a medical doctor just happens to also be a specialist in Scottish folklore and customs, so we find in Chapter 9 a good descriptor of his research or perhaps the author’s research. The book highlights discussions about the world of the sixth sense, the unseen world, spectres, ghosts,the other side"— the supernatural world of Scots and also the Irish, Welsh and many English and it makes a perceptive contrast with the tension of the Enlighted or the Scottish Enlightenment world of Dr Snodgrass who knew a rational explanation could be found. Mackieson’s resolution is carefully crafted.

"The movement of ship bell to church bell is critical and the title captures this nicely. It will likely send readers on a desire to know more about some aspects of nautical life. Numerology is a significant point here—eight peals being the end of the watch, or it also could be interpreted as the final watch of life by the more mystically minded. The fact that there were thirteen passengers and thirteen crew on the vessel added to the suspicion of supernatural malevolence.

At the end of the novella, Chapter 14, somewhat one could say a little like a lawyer’s summation of a case in court, is calledResolution of the Mystery" and it provides an explanation satisfactory only to Dr. Snodgrass. A historical addendum is included about the Fairy Queen’s demise.

The Mystery of the Kirk Bell Pealing is an illuminating and captivating read. Islanders and visitors to Prince Edward Island alike will find it a fascinating foray into the past and a captivating study of culture, tragedy, and interpretation. It displays the further range and development of the author’s literary pursuits to his growing collection of authored books. It has aspects of new world Scottish Gothic, echoes here of Sir Walter Scott and tales, and it is a very fitting companion to Macnutt’s The Yankee Gale."

—Dr. Jack C. Whytock, FRHisS

"In James W. Macnutt’s latest work of fiction, he has structured two stories dealing with actual disasters at sea which affected the lives and livelihoods of residents of Prince Edward Island within two years of each other in the mid-1850s.

"Due to Prince Edward Island’s unique geography the sea has always been a force to be reckoned with as a source of sustenance and a form of transportation. In view of the current awareness of the effects of climate change brought in through Hurricane Dorian and Post-Tropical Storm Fiona, examining the earlier storms proves that 19th Century Islanders had their own weather-related tragedies to deal with in the Yankee Gale’s destruction of hundreds of American fishing boats in 1851 and the sinking of the steamer The Fairy Queen in 1853.

"As more than being two good adventure stories, Macnutt’s two narratives explore the cultural and social hierarchy, mores and values of this mid-Victorian period in P.E.I.’s history when the formerly geographically isolated province was beginning to open up to the rest of Canada and to our neighbour to the south and both stories reflect the changes starting to occur.

"The Island’s diverse population is depicted in general terms as the Family Compact elite v. the working class; we see the lines divided between the comfortably affluent and the poor, men of faith and good conscience against such unscrupulous businessmen as Septimus Howard, the Big Man from Boston In The Yankee Gale.

"Both tales belong to that subset of fiction known as Scottish Gothic. The supernatural coexists with humanity in a persistent yet mysterious and tenuous way and apparitions and forerunners play an important part in the development of the plot.

The stories contain many great descriptions of marine lore and the fishery, and both tales effectively use the public records published in the Royal Gazette as the source of the facts behind them. As more than being two good adventure stories, Macnutt skillfully brings this time alive and although the time period has been characteristically described as the age ofWooden Ships and Iron Men", he also brings out the complexity and humanity of his characters in an earlier but not quite innocent decade during the growth of Canada’s smallest province."

—Pamela Borden

Prologue to The Yankee Gale

The characters described in The Yankee Gale are fictional. The surnames of many of the characters are true to or similar to surnames of the residents of the people who lived in the communities described in the book. No particular person was envisaged or described but the characters of those referred to are true and accurate reflections of those who composed many Island communities in the 1850s.

The interconnection of families at the time of the story that enabled access to authority and decision making from the colonial administration is also accurate.

The story is not intended to be a biography of any particular individual then or subsequently a resident of the areas described, but the values, characters and sense of community are true to the period and largely remained true to the time of publication of this book.

The Historical Period

Covered in the Story

3 to 5 October, 1851

Introduction

Folklore expresses a combination of facts obscurely understood with the passage of time and myths developed to complete the story in ways that define the values of the place in which it was developed.

Prince Edward Island in Canada has many stories in the form of folklore that relate to its extensive time of human settlement prior to joining the Canadian Confederation.

The character and values of the ‘The Island’, as the place is known by its people, are expressions of the people at any given point in its history, changing as they do over time. Those values and character are heavily influenced by its folklore, many aspects of which are as keenly felt and accepted as news coverage in a local newspaper. In fact, newspaper coverage is often treated with greater skepticism than the stories handed down as folklore from one generation to the next and from one story teller to another.

Folklore forms part of the history of a place, often more expressive of the record of the lives of the people than formal or academic histories which are the creation of academics professing an objective statement and interpretation of the life of the place and its sequential events; they are seldom less subjective than the stories embedded in folklore.

Prince Edward Island has been settled for almost eight thousand years, initially by Aboriginal peoples and from and after the early eighteenth century by Europeans such as the French and those who emigrated from the British Isles. The mix of Europeans settling the Island in the eighteenth century has been expanded considerably with the arrival of other national or ethnic groups which continue to enrich and develop the values and characters of Islanders.

Each phase of the Island’s history is influenced by events and beliefs that developed in earlier periods of settlement.

One such event occurred in October 1851 while Prince Edward Island was still a colony of Great Britain. That event was a severe storm, probably a hurricane, which caused a substantial loss of human life and the destruction of countless sailing vessels and their cargoes. Those most disastrously affected were American fishermen who traditionally sailed into the Southern Gulf of St. Lawrence to engage in the fall mackerel fishery.

That there was a storm is an undisputed fact, as is the start date of October 3rd and that it lasted two or three days. It has been established that the majority of the vessels affected were from ports in the Boston-Gloucester, Massachusetts area of New England. There is little consistency or agreement on other details of the events surrounding that storm.

Several individuals who were part of what became known as the ‘American Fleet’ are known to have died, to have been injured or to have survived. But very few were identified by name, given the probable number of fishermen and mariners who were caught in the storm; it seems no records were established or kept in the home ports of those manning the vessels.

A few of the vessels caught in the storm, very few, originated in European ports believed to have been engaged in transporting cargo to ports in Quebec and Northern New Brunswick.

It is estimated that more than two hundred sailing vessels, mostly schooners of diverse forms and dimensions, were in the Southern Gulf at the time of the storm. That number is far from definite and impossible to establish with certainty. Some estimates put the number into the thousands, but that is unlikely. In the hundreds, at some level, is probable. Even contemporaneous accounts of the storm published in Boston and New York are inconsistent and offer no basis for their estimation of the number they advance.

Bodies of the dead were recovered from the shores of the North side of the Island by local residents; the injured were rescued also by local residents along the coast. The response of Islanders to the plight of the visiting Americans is part of the story of the storm, each community having accounts of rescues, burials and home care provided to the injured. Place names evoking and perhaps commemorating the Yankee Gale are not uncommon across the North Shore of the Island. They form a lasting record of the event, one of the few reliable records that have come down to us in the twenty-first century.

Even with the uncertainty of specific facts, such as the number of vessels in the fleet, the number of vessels that were destroyed, the loss of human life, the number or nature of the injuries sustained by fishermen and mariners and the number and location of graves, the event known as the Yankee Gale is as fresh and alive in the story of the Island as if all the specific details were known today. What is missing in the narrative of the story is augmented and animated by folklore developed during the almost one hundred and twenty years since the storm.

What is offered in this book is a fictionalized story of the Yankee Gale. Where reliable facts are known, I have used them as the core elements around which I have wrapped story lines and myths that complete an interpretation of the event; an interpretation that endeavours to put a human dimension to various aspects of the storm, many of which have not been identified or explored in other writings on the subject.

The Yankee Gale makes a compelling story that contains elements that are as relevant and informative today as they were to the lives and character of the people of the Island at the time of the Yankee Gale.

Suspend your disbelief and enjoy a story of the Yankee Gale in its themes and descriptions; while perhaps an embellishment of the facts, it brings the Yankee Gale alive to us today.

Verisimilitude, a creation of supporting narrative is found in contemporaneous newspaper accounts, most of which were published initially in New York and Boston. There are remarkable inconsistencies in the primary facts they printed, but like this story, reading between the lines gives a consistent and believable story. The stories the newspaper accounts record is reflected in the folklore of Prince Edward Island, which may differ in some factual details but continue the descriptive elements of the story, often with community-based details.

The story of the Yankee Gale still makes a ‘ripping yarn’, if it has no other virtue. I offer it in the hope that it will enliven our sense of history and the importance of folklore in understanding that history.

Chapter 1

A tall, well-built young man in his early twenties was dispatched by his clergyman father to walk to the local store for some supplies for the kitchen and for the theological students who were visiting in his home, which also served as a school for aspiring Presbyterian ministers. He was dressed in his accustomed fashionable manner wearing breeks, linen shirt and tweed jacket; all were acquired directly from the shop in Edinburgh, Scotland from which his father had so long patronized when he had been a student in that city.

Complying with the dictates of his mother, he was brushed, shined and combed to her standard of perfection. As he left the family home, she reminded him to pick up the mail while he was at the store.

He set out walking the half mile to the store from their house along the road that led to the center of the village. The frost that had settled on the community the night before had created razor sharp ruts which were raised by the wagons coming and going frequently to the house. He carefully walked as best he could on the surface of the road least likely to damage his new leather boots which had arrived with the rest of his wardrobe. As muddy as the red-loamed road was, he tried to navigate between the frozen ruts to avoid mucking up his boots.

It was a calm and pleasant day with the early autumn sunshine increasingly warming the countryside. The smell of the fresh earth was intensified by the recently harvested fields lying beside the road. From time to time, he had to avoid the muddy road by walking on the edge of the road which was overgrown in many places by young fir and spruce trees, both projecting their dampened scent as they warmed in the sun. It was a mixture he continually found energizing and his lungs happily embraced it.

A perfect day to pick up the mail with his hopeful expectation that there would be a letter with life-altering news.

Numerous neighbours whose houses lined the road were out at this early hour all extending a friendly greeting to a favoured son of a friendly neighbour. Good cheer and good weather would presage good news, he was sure.

Before arriving at the store, he passed the modest church in which his father ministered to a large congregation of mostly Scottish emigrants, many of whom were descendants of settlers from the west coast of Scotland who arrived in the 1770s.

As he stood looking with mixed affection and terror at the church, he recalled that after a couple of years as a theological student with his father in the seminary conducted in the family home, he was instructed a few months before to prepare and deliver his first sermon which would be given from the pulpit in the sanctuary. He recalled the agonized hours he had spent writing his sermon. He rolled into it all he had learned as a theological student and would model its delivery on his father’s delivery, as he perceived it.

The sermon was an unqualified failure. As he left the sanctuary at the conclusion of the service passing his mother, whose eyes were averted and head deliberately turned to avoid contact, he put his hand forward to his father as he was leaving ready for an enthusiastic expression of praise. He was humiliated when his father in his dour and forthright manner announced, loud enough to be heard in the graveyard nearby, You are not meant for the ministry, my boy. Mr. Darwin and that scientific language has no place in a Presbyterian sermon. And why did you stumble over your words? Your delivery was so softly spoken that even I, sitting next to the pulpit, could hardly hear you. We shall find something else for you to do.

In retrospect he knew his father was right. After a month or two, encouraged by his mother, forcefully by his father, he decided medicine might be the career for him. In compliance with parental instructions, he applied to two universities that had medical training which were recognized as being of the highest calibre.

But as he looked at the church it was with mixed emotions and with a certain indecision that he walked to the store to pick up the mail, which might have a letter from one or both of the universities to which he had applied.

Mr. Naughton, the store keeper, was on duty when he called in and arranged for the goods to be assembled by one of the several clerks in the store. The items were concisely listed by his mother on a piece of paper, carefully cut to allow only the space necessary for the words needed to express her requirements.

Well, William, you are well-dressed today for something special. What or whom is the occasion?

I hope there will be a letter from the University of Edinburgh in reply to my application for admission to the university in the fall. Please check for correspondence that may be addressed to me. Yes, I am attired ready to celebrate, but if the application is denied, I at least want to have something to feel good about, was William’s cautious and self-conscious reply. He knew Mr. Naughton was a friend of the family and would be happy to celebrate his success, but he also knew that the store keeper, like William’s father, considered him a dreamer, and of course as a poet and scribbler of stories, he must be.

Mr. Naughton went to the postal section of the large store and carefully went through the mail that had arrived late on the previous afternoon.

Ah, Young William, so there is a letter for you. Very formal it appears on very heavy stock with a postal stamp of the new form. Quite a document. I hope you will be satisfied with the contents.

A hand was extended to William, which he took with a combination of embarrassment and pleasure, and then Mr. Naughton, who was waiting for the envelope to be torn open in his presence, said, Well, are you not going to open it, lad?

No, sir. I know Mother and Father would expect me to open it in their presence. You know my father thought little of my prospects as a theologian. His hope is that I shall do better as a doctor. I hope I will not disappoint him. I will let you know later today what the news is and you may let it be known to your customers what it tells me.

The leisurely walk to the centre of the village to pick up the anticipated letter was reversed to a run on the way home as he extended his extra-long legs to their limit. The neighbours who had greeted him on his way to the store watched in amazement as Young William, as he was known in the village, sprinted by.

***

The Reverend John MacGregor quickly left his classroom when he was told by the serving girl that Young William had returned with a letter from ‘the old country’. He joined his wife immediately at the front of the house which served as his study and library; she was already in occupation of the room with William who was squirming with anticipation at what he would read.

The door was closed so that those assembled could deal privately and discreetly with what the news would bring.

William, his mother instructed, open the letter, tell us who it is from and what its contents tell us.

The minister went to his desk and took a brass letter opener from a pigeon hole and handed it to his son, saying, That letter, whatever its message, must be kept, and kept in excellent condition.

William with shaking hands took the letter opener, slit the flap securing the contents and opened and flattened the four sides of the letter carefully. He read: The admissions board of the University of Edinburgh acknowledges receipt of your application for admission to the School of Medicine, and having carefully reviewed your marks, references and other qualifications, particularly your exceptional grade in philosophy, we are pleased to inform you that your application is accepted and the date of commencement of your studies shall be in September of next year, on a date that shall be prescribed; later notice of which shall be given in due course, after the necessary fees have been paid in full.

The news was received with restrained pleasure and congratulations. Reverend MacGregor reminded his son of his duty to demonstrate humility and modesty in informing his siblings, neighbours and friends of his own age about his good fortune.

Two of William’s sisters were much more satisfying in their response to his success. Well away from sight or sound of either parent, the three of them laughed, cried and expressed the natural joy and optimism the letter called for.

The farm hand was sent to Mr. Naughton to give him the good news with a request that he disseminate it to anyone he chose to inform, knowing that not a house within five miles of the store would be without William’s news by the end of the day.

William met with his father to discuss payment of the prescribed fee, apprehensively wondering where the money would come from. His parents were typical of the fathers and mothers of his friends, all of whom were of Scottish origin; money was never discussed except for what was required to purchase or to sell something, the former was an exorbitant amount and the latter insufficient with the purchaser, usually of produce from the farm operation conducted as an auxiliary operation to his ministry, which paid little.

Father, the amount the letter states I must pay is well in excess of what I have saved. I don’t know where I can find that amount, even though I have a few weeks to pay it. My acceptance will be cancelled if the full amount is not paid within two months of my acceptance. Where can I find the money?

To which the reverend replied: I knew approximately how much it would be. But, William, the expense will be much more. You will need accommodations, food, clothing, travel, books and equipment. The amount of money you will require is about four times the amount of the tuition.

William could not resist a panicked reaction to this news. It was accompanied by tears and an unwanted show of emotion, to which his father said sternly, "Let this be the last of such boyish emotion. You are an adult and your future conduct in a highly regarded profession will require your demeanour to always reflect your social and professional standing. Now, square your shoulders, stop this childish display and we will discuss money man to man, as adults. You shall never display such emotion for any reason before me in the future.

As to the required money: I shall pay half of the total, of which I will pay the tuition in full to ensure your place is secure. As for the balance you will raise your portion of the half by obtaining employment, perhaps with Mr. Naughton. I suggest you contact him straight away.

The conversation ended, William and his father parted and William embarked on the life of an adult in the dour Scots tradition.

***

The day’s events had left him dazed, excited and full of a certain apprehension of the many changes that university in Scotland would bring. He knew he would be expected to face life on his own, for four years in Scotland was to be borne with fortitude, dignity and acceptance. He refused to allow himself to think of the changes at home that might occur while he was overseas.

William walked to the boundary of the family’s property which was located on the edge of a substantial tidal saltwater bay. Facing northwest, he sat in his favourite location on the bank of the bay on a seat located to enable viewing the spectacular sunsets that it afforded. In the distance, as he absorbed the view concentrating on memorizing it so he would not lose it when he would need the comforts of home while he was away, he noted the landmarks so dear to him: the three small islands nearby in the bay and the crescent-shaped sand dune enclosing and protecting the bay from the Gulf of St. Lawrence. He sat contentedly enjoying the solitude and animation of nature. Flocks of Canada geese in V-formation flew overhead with their raucous calls demanding orderly attention for all in the flock.

As he was about to leave, his attention was attracted to the horizon. The day had been clear, warm and still, yet in the distance he observed clear signs which he knew announced that a storm was developing. The house and the village in which it was located on the North Shore of Prince Edward Island was in an area well known for severe storms at this time of the year. Also, people in the community could read the sky and interpret what the weather would bring. He decided he would return to the house and find the farmer hired by his father to conduct the farm operation; William knew of no one who could better forecast the weather.

Standing in the backyard of the house, sheltered as it was by the farmer’s lodge and several barns, William asked Mr. Ball to examine the setting sun on the horizon and the strange cloud formations that were on display.

Mr. William, you are right to ask. A storm is brewing. I predict heavy rain and a lot of wind from this storm. I suggest you tell Mable, the serving girl, to close the windows. It may become quite cold. If the temperature drops, we might have some snow or freezing rain. Extra wood should be taken into the house in case the storm lasts a while, as they often do this time of the year.

William went into the house to give news of the impending storm to his mother who would know what was required in terms of extra supplies to be prepared. She greeted him with a shrug and said simply, This has been apparent for the last few hours lad. This time of the year a bad storm can last for more than a day or two. Take yourself off to the village store and buy some extra kerosene for the lamps, and perhaps a few extra wicks and candles might be wise. Don’t be long, you could get caught in the rain – I don’t have time to nurse you. Before you leave speak to your father telling him for me that he is to prepare the students for the storm. They must have lamps for their rooms and wood for the stove in the hall outside their rooms.

William was happy to be liberated from the directions and continuous control of his mother. In this case, at least she was not assisted by his sisters who were, all four of them, in training to be duplicates of their mother.

When he emerged from the back porch into the farmyard, he noticed that the vivid sunset colours had subsided into a dark haze, which told him the storm could start within the hour. Fortunately, the farmer was nearby and agreed that William should take a horse to the store. It would be the fastest method of transport and knowing William’s mother as well as William, he knew William would have a list of goods he would be required to return with, so he harnessed the horse to have saddle bags to carry the purchases.

The lane into the house was long and bordered by long dry-stone walls which William had watched his father and the farmer skillfully build one summer when he was a child. He took pride in observing the walls as he passed them as he always did. The walls were celebrated as one of the features of the community and had attracted visitors who often came to the house asking for directions on how to build them.

When he reached the land that led to the centre of the village, all traces of the frost had melted, leaving red semi-liquid mud in its place. The horse struggled and frequently slipped until she refused to proceed further. William dismounted and with a rough yank on the reins and with a stern voice he guided the horse to the newly cut grain field next to the road.

Again, William passed the church on his way to the store, this time pausing to reassure himself that the structure could withstand high winds and heavy rain. He recalled that it was in its original form as a layered square-cut log barn into which small windows had been inserted; and in an attempt to winterize and add additional protection from rain and snow it had been sheathed in ship-board laths by an experienced ship’s carpenter of whom there were several in the community.

While the church had been the scene of his great humiliation, it was also the centre of his father’s life, perhaps even more than their home, and a place of which he had many fond memories. As he remained stationary looking at it, one of the local men came along and greeted William asking why he was staring at the church: Expecting it to move back to Princetown, William?

No, Captain Stewart, I am told we shall have a storm tonight. I am looking at it, hoping not to see any loose boards or shingles that should be tightened up to protect it.

Master William, I worked on installing the new roof and the siding. That church will withstand a force ten gale. You have nothing to fear. Your father’s livelihood is safe, I assure you. Many around here tell me it is overbuilt. I say no. If the construction of a schooner requires reinforcement and secure planking, so too, should our important buildings. My house was built as you know in the 1770s by my great grandfather as if it were ready to take to the high seas; it has not moved an inch or lost a board in even the worst storms in over one hundred years. Your church and your home will get through this coming storm very well. And yes, we will have a great gale. That sunset and the stillness are ominous. At sea we would say we are in for a very great gale, what the school master would call a hurricane.

William thanked Captain Stewart for this reassurance and left for Mr. Naughton’s store, where he was greeted by several of the local men gathered around the pot-bellied stove in the centre of the floor next to the dry goods.

William, please inform your reverend father, said one of his neighbours, that a storm is coming this way. Probably tonight. It’s too early to tell whether it will be a bad one or just a lot of wind and rain. My companions and I are here getting supplies which I suspect is your mission, to which William assented and placed his order with a clerk.

Is Mr. Naughton in the store, does anyone know? I would like to talk to him.

Yes, he is out back getting our supplies or going over his ledgers. He won’t miss accounting for every penny of what we purchase today, it all goes into those big books of his with his fancy double-entry system he learned in Charlottetown. There won’t be anything overlooked in his records; he’ll get his last penny from us, said a local farmer who as a cousin of the redoubtable Mr. Naughton felt free to express a personal opinion on a man the community needed, relied on and admired.

Mr. Naughton entered the retail space where his customers had assembled and noticing William said to him, Well, it is nice to see you again today, William. Are you here looking for one of my boys or on an errand?

An errand for supplies, sir, but may I speak to you privately? asked William with some trepidation. The shopkeeper could be something of a tyrant if irritated and the cause for his irritation could not always be predicted. However, William was led into the office that lay adjacent at the front next to where the cash was kept. Mr. Naughton was renowned for never being out of sight of his money. Some wags in the village said he took it home every night and stored it under his mattress where he and his equally formidable wife had spawned all of their six children inspired by the treasures below them.

What can I do for you, William? I can’t be long; I haven’t completed all of the sales slips for the supplies being purchased by our friends out there.

Thank you, sir, for seeing me in here. I did want to talk to you privately; word gets around so fast in this village of ours. When I was here this morning, I picked up the post. It contained a letter for me from the University of Edinburgh in Scotland, accepting me into the medical program for me to become a doctor.

"Congratulations! Yes, that will do much better for you than the ministry. I was next to your father when he told you to give up the ministry. Perhaps a bit harsh, but he is a truthful man, your father.

So what can I do for you? I don’t know anything about medicine other than the liniments and supplies we stock and sell in great quantities,

said Mr. Naughton, looking over William’s shoulder checking on his customers, as always suspecting things might find their way into a pocket without being accounted for later.

Sir, I will need money to go to the university. My father will help but we are a large family. My three brothers will all need help in getting set up, too. I was wondering whether I might have part time or even full-time work clerking here for a few months before I go. You know I am good at arithmetic and would be able to work your double entry ledgers.

William, I do know you are a clever lad. You provided help to my boy who was struggling with arithmetic. He’s doing very well now thanks to you. Alright, I will hire you. My regular bookkeeper has been sick for several weeks and shows no signs of improvement.

It was arranged that William would start earning money in four weeks when he had finished the studies he was required to complete as part of the terms of his entrance at the university.

He arrived back at his home just as the wind was coming up and the rain was beginning to become intense, swirling in several conflicting directions.

Chapter 2

The Gale

One of the most devastating marine disasters to have occurred among mariners, primarily fishermen from seaports along the New England coast took place during the night of Friday, 3 October 1851 and continued into Sunday, 5 October. The site of the disaster was the Gulf of St. Lawrence in Canada, along the North Shore of Prince Edward Island stretching from a small harbour in the east, Cable Head to Tignish in the western end of the Island. Few natural disasters created as much controversy at the time, not softened or better explained with time.

***

During that Friday night after returning to his home at Malpeque almost in the geographical centre of what would become one of the primary areas of the disaster, William was awoken shortly before midnight by the howling of an easterly wind that circled, curled and tore around the various curves and right angles of his twenty-two-room family home. The window sashes rattled and downdrafts from the three chimneys blew dried leaves, broken branches and soot into the house.

William became alarmed only when he heard the horses whinnying in terror. He was concerned that he might not have bolted the barn door and secured the stalls in which the horses were housed at night. He pulled on enough clothing to decently cover himself and to provide protection against the rain and what he assumed would be the cold of an October night.

When he emerged from the back porch into the shelter of the barnyard, surrounded as it was by buildings on three sides, he was surprised that the temperature while cool was not particularly cold, but cold enough certainly for light flurries. He was also expecting strong gusts of wind. Wind there was, but nothing exceptional for October on Prince Edward Island.

On his way to the horse barn, which was opposite the back of the house, he was startled to see two, possibly three unknown and unexpected figures walk between the horse barn and a wagon shed as if they had walked up from Malpeque Bay on the eastern shore of which the house and buildings were located. The two individuals wore what appeared to be hooded, waxed-canvas slickers customarily worn by seamen on board a vessel during a heavy rainstorm. He was both startled and apprehensive by these individuals because the house, while on the bay, was several miles from the Gulf, which is where the seamen would or should be. After satisfying himself that they meant no harm to him or the property, he studied the figures carefully albeit at a distance to try to identify who they might be, by their height, posture or gait. During the fifteen minutes that he watched the two, they moved slowly, pausing, appearing to confer, and demonstrating through their interaction anxiety and fear.

The mystery of who these individuals were intensified in William when he observed them side-by-side pass through the wall of the carriage shed closest to him.

The lantern he carried cast enough light to enable him to walk over to the carriage shed to investigate. The door into the shed was bolted as William knew it had been earlier in the day. It had not been tampered with. There were two small square windows inset into the sturdy wall of the shed but on examining them carefully he decided they had not been tampered with, either. It was impossible for the seamen to have actually walked through the wall, so William realized that they might be up to mischief and that an exploration of the wagon shed was necessary. He quickly slid the bolt and gained entrance to the shed.

The shed was large enough to accommodate a wagon and two carriages, one of which was a fancy phaeton for the ladies of the house to use on special occasions when a bit of a display was wanted. Above the floor of the shed there was a mezzanine or large extended shelf on which tackle, tools and wraps for winter travel were stored; particularly treasured was the bear rug still proudly displaying the original owner’s glaring head with teeth fully exposed in a perpetual snarl.

William carefully examined the wagon and carriages and the spaces both on the main level and on the mezzanine, although as he climbed from the vertical steps up to that level he was frozen with fear as his lamp caught the bear’s image in the lamp light. He hoped that no one in the house heard his scream. His father would not have resisted subjecting him to another lecture on being a man. His mother would have saved her voice as she did in all things and simply stare at him with contempt, which would have had far greater impact on his psyche.

The shed was empty. There was no indication that anyone had been inside and none of the typical fall debris he noted as being there yesterday had been disturbed.

Crossing the farm yard, he was intercepted by the farmer, who came out of the storey-and-a-half lodging that William’s father provided to the farmer and his wife. It wasn’t until Mr. Ball spoke that William knew he was there. Hearing a voice William emitted another cry evidencing his fear. Ball quickly reassured William that he was alright and that there was no sign of damage so far from the storm. It will be bad at sea, William, but not bad here as we are wonderfully sheltered by all these buildings and the big trees all around. I have been keeping a watch during the night to see that all is right. I see nothing amiss. I suggest you return to the house and leave the outside work to me.

To which William readily agreed. He knew Farmer Ball was even more Scottish in his hard-headedness and would only scorn William’s story of the slickered men.

In the morning William, still weary from his night crawl around the farmyard, arrived at breakfast in the vast kitchen which was equipped to feed the family and the minister’s students. His mother was in the centre of the activity marshalling everyone, missing nothing. Her directives as ever were being immediately adhered to, even by the most independent of her daughters.

His mother gave William a passing glance and announced, William, you did not sleep well last night. You will need your rest and all of your mental faculties to be up to the mark with Mr. Naughton who has kindly taken you on. I suppose you were kept awake by the wind and rain. Nonsense, it is no worse than our usual October storms. Incidentally, I do not want you to get up in the middle of the night tonight, or again. You will certainly disturb the rest of the household. Ball will take care of the animals and the farmyard. You won’t need to trouble yourself about those areas.

Before Mrs. MacGregor could conclude her reprimand, she was interrupted by the only person in the house who could do so with impunity, her husband, whom she consistently referred to as Reverend MacGregor or the minister. It was a matter of considerable speculation among neighbours, however, whether that standard of discourse prevailed in the matrimonial bedroom where seven children had been created.

I require your attention. said the minister, as if from the pulpit. "It appears the storm is worse at sea than what we are having here in our sheltered spot. Captain Stewart has sent word that he has assembled local men at the front of the church to go to the shore, both at Malpeque Harbour and at Darnley Point. He has heard that there are one or two vessels in distress that may require assistance in getting to shore. Each of my students will attend. They may be needed more for the comfort the Word of God can provide than for any brute strength Stewart may require. William, you will find your brothers and shall immediately take them to the assembly point and provide whatever help each of you can provide. I will have no sloth. You each shall provide your help cheerfully and in an exemplary manner.