“Again dissevered is the tie;
Brethren and sisters part;
The mournful separation nigh
Pervades with grief each heart;
Here, now, beneath this sacred roof
Fresh blessings we implore,
Beneath our tears the fervent proof,
‘We’ll love you as before.’”
In the large company that had gathered for the last farewell service, there was scarcely an eye that was not dim with tears. Brothers and sisters, as well as parents and children, who had never known what separation meant were now about to experience its pain. Perhaps no one felt the bitterness of parting more than did the two aged mothers, Elizabeth Young and Hannah Young, who were leaving behind them children that were most dear, to return to the far-distant home of their childhood. The night after the farewell meeting was a wakeful one for those whom the parting most nearly concerned, as the morrow would witness the departure. The morning dawned only too soon. The whole community, including all the other families that had recently settled among them, accompanied the party that was leaving, down to the pier. Loud sobs and many tears told what a heavy trial the separation was. At last all was over—the last fond embrace, the lingering kiss, the warm hand clasp—and the voyagers embarked in their small vessel to return to the isolated island whither the two other families had preceded them six years before. Two men, relatives of the families who were leaving, came with them on a visit.
One death took place before the voyage was ended, that of a child of Thursday Christian, that had been ailing for some time before leaving Norfolk Island. At the mother’s request, the captain kindly consented to preserve the body, to be brought and laid with others of her children in the graveyard at Pitcairn Island. The body was put in a barrel, and this was placed in the forepart of the ship on deck, and was for some time an object of terror to the superstitious minds of the young people on board, who wondered how the mother dared to approach the spot in the dead of night and weep over her child there. By degrees, however, the feelings of awe and fear wore away, and as the little ship neared the end of her voyage, there remained but the wish that the gentle child had been spared to reach the place whither they were going. And, too, the sorrow of parting from friends on Norfolk Island gradually lost its bitterness as the thought of soon seeing again their long-separated friends was cherished. Still the frequent sigh and the silent tear told that the dear ones were not forgotten. Especially touching was it to see the two old ladies, who had no growing families to engross their thoughts, sit together and weep silent tears, as the aged will, over the sons and daughters they were to see no more.