Chronicles
Sisters of the Holy Names of Jesus and Mary

September 16 At three o’clock, a.m., the immediate preparation for departure begins. His Lordship, Bishop Bourget, celebrates the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, during which they have the happiness of receiving the Divine Food of the traveler from the hands of our venerable Founder. Who but the Angels of the Sanctuary can describe this hour wherein they renewed the holocaust so precious to the heart of Our Divine Savior.

… At five o’clock we turn once more to utter a pressing adieu to loved Sisters who follow our cortege with tearful faces. Our dear Mothers Teresa of Jesus and Veronica of the Crucifix are to accompany us as far as New York. At St. Lambert, where we take the (train) cars for Troy (New York), our caravan is increased by Sisters Agnes and Prudent, Sisters of Providence, destined for Vancouver, Washington Territory, and Sisters Marie Bon Secours and de la Providence, Sisters of St. Anne for Victoria, B.C. Most Rev. F.N. Blanchet, our future Archbishop, Reverends S. Piette, A. Poulin, and T. Malo, Canadian priests appointed for Oregon, also join our party at St. Lambert. At St. Jean, another sad adieu is taken, our worthy founder, who would remain with us as long as possible, gives us his blessing and says farewell. …

Night had fallen before we arrived at Troy. At this place, we were transferred to the steamer, "Francis Kidd," which conveyed us to New York City. The officers of this boat were most attentive to our every want and a state room was placed at our disposal, in which we enjoyed some rest.

September 17 On arriving at New York, Reverend Father Quinn, an intimate friend of our most Reverend Archbishop, had carriages in waiting which conveyed us to various convents who charitable religious had kindly proffered hospitality to our party. Mr. O’Neill, a brother of Sister Mary Margaret, came to greet his dear sister at her arrival. …

September 20 The carriage…conveyed us to the ocean steamship, "Star of the West," in which we are to brave the billows of the Atlantic. At 2:30 o’clock, p.m., we are aboard awaiting the signal for departure. The final separation is at hand; only those who have parted from loved ones can paint the sentiments of hearts during those moments. A death-like silence pervades our group, broken only by a sob that could not be suppressed. The canon sounds, we embrace our Mothers (Teresa and Veronica) once more, and say farewell to the two devoted brothers of our Sisters, who accompanied us to the steamer…

Before we can realize it we are on the wide ocean, that ocean over which, as pupils, we had made imaginary voyages in our geography class, but whose immensity our young minds had never formed a just conception. As hour succeeds hour we are borne farther and farther from the dear land of our birth. Oh! Loved Canada! How much we owe to thee – blest repository of all that our hearts cherish – farewell. ...
Our mission, as charged with care of youth, is seemingly beginning. Two little children are confided to us – a little girl, Sara Ann Wooly, aged seven years, who is to meet her mother in San Francisco, California, and a little boy, Henry Wetterton, aged six, is to accompany us to Oregon City where his parents reside. His Grace has the little boy under his special protection and Sister M. Alphonse has the little girl. …

The sea is calm and the day delightful, but our poor hearts are oppressed, and with difficulty we restrain our tears, but nature seems to compassionate our grief and the lowering clouds warn us of a coming storm. We at once retire to the cabin which is common to ladies and gentlemen, a circumstance that adds not a little to our embarrassment. At five o’clock a bright sunset invited us out on deck once more. Several porpoises, at intervals, raise their heads above the water, according to sailors the appearance of these animals betokens wind. At six o’clock supper is announced but our appetites are none the best, and we reluctantly take the places assigned us, only to leave them in a few minutes, the victims of sea sickness. Sister Mary of Calvary, the only one able to remain up, acts as infirmarian.

September 21 We are all very sick. A strong wind prevails. …

September 22 The day is bright and we sail on peaceful waters. Two steamers passed ours since morning.

September 23 All are able to leave their berths and go on deck except Sister Mary Agnes and Sister Mary Bon Secours who are very weak from this distressing sickness. …

September 24 Our Blessed Mother is watching over us in an especial manner. Our state rooms are all abandoned for greater comfort is found out on deck.

September 25 …This morning at ten o’clock we experienced a slight tempest. This soon passed and the oppression we are now enduring convinces us that we are nearing a tropical clime. A large ship en route to New York passed us at six o’clock this evening.

… At eight o’clock we passed the first lighthouse off the coast of Florida. The night is beautiful, we remain on deck until nine o’clock, p.m. Sister Mary of Mercy has often remark that she did not like to see us out so late, but we are in good company, as His Grace and the Reverend Clergy enter at the same time. We find so much pleasure in contemplating a star-lit night on the southern sea that we heed not the lamentations of our good Chartreuse.

Two hours after midnight our steamer encountered a sand bank and two hours were required to bring her into deep water again. Whilst thus obstructed, some one was heard to say, "If the danger continues, have the Sisters pray." Happily the Sisters were sleeping soundly, unconscious of all that was transpiring. Sister M. Arsenius, being suddenly awakened, ran to our state room. Soon however I succeeded in claming her fears and prevailed upon her to retire.

September 26 Today we recited the "Te Deum" in thanksgiving for our preservation during the night. The danger was imminent. …

At half past one this afternoon, a pilot from Key West arrived to direct the vessel. It is said the coast of Florida is a dangerous one. We passed seven light houses during the night. At 1:45 o’clock this morning we passed a splendid steamer, "The Globe." At four o’clock we anchored at a military fort. The General (Scott) received a grand salute. Five o’clock we set foot on land once more. …(go to Mass and visit people, native American and Hispanic)…it was judged expedient for us to remain aboard the steamer. At seven o’clock, p.m., the bell called the little congregation to the church….

Thompson’s Isle is one of nature’s favored spots, the vegetation is most luxuriant, flowers and fruits are growing everywhere. The inhabitants enjoy their island home, but they are deprived of the consolations of our holy religion.

September 27 Father Piette went to say Mass at the little chapel. The anchor is to be drawn at 5 o’clock a.m. As His Grace is not award of Father’s return, he becomes most anxious, fearing that he may be left at Key West. …We have entered the Gulf of Mexico and several of the Sisters are again sea sick. At three o’clock p.m. we passed the Island of Cuba at Cape San Antonia. The weather is delightful but the wind is contrary.

October 1 The sea continues to be calm. At noon we passed the Island of Providence.

October 2 Today, Sunday, we had the happiness of hearing Holy Mass…
At Noon we came in sight of the Isthmus of Panama, and five o’clock, pm., Aspinwall was announced. Here again General Scott received a military salute from the guns of an American Frigate. Seven o’clock found us leaving our good steamer, "Star of the West" …Some of our caravan on leaving the vessel, proceeded in such hast to the (train) cars that it was impossible for the remainder to overtake them. No sooner had the former entered than the train began to move. Picture them leaving it more quickly than they had entered for the second division had not arrived. When we came to the station the second train was in apparent readiness, but we were soon informed that it would leave only on the following day at four o’clock.

But where we were to lodge was the question to be considered. The night was one of tropical loveliness; some favored the idea of remaining out of doors, others feared the dew. His Grace, to solve the problem, went to ask the advice of General Scott; in this interval we were besieged by hotel keepers of all sorts. They asked us one dollar each for our board and two for our bed. For thirty persons, no small sum! Could you have seen us at that moment, gathered on the public street, the object of curiosity for all those passing.

At nine o’clock at night, you would have found in us some traits of the missionary. We were still without supper. Divine Providence, however, soon came to our assistance. …Soon we were following our two courteous guides back to the "Star of the West." The long fast had sharpened our appetites and we enjoyed a hearty supper, after which many sought their beds, others remained up as the confusion and noise attending the unloading of the vessel’s cargo made sleep an impossibility. Four o’clock a.m. found us once more hastening to the station; the engine was already in motion; but another delay – the train would leave only at seven a.m. Again we would have been obliged to wait on the road side had not Colonel Thomas and Mr. Fox, the American consul offered us the hospitality of the latter’s home, which was quite near…

At nine o’clock we arrived at the station … At ten o’clock we saluted the Pacific: whilst lost in admiration of the scene before us, we heard the cry: "Hasten or you will miss the tide." Never was an order more promptly responded to than this, for the penalty of the tardy is a novel experience; a transfer by means of the boat was certainly to be preferred to being carried on the shoulders of a native, a distance of about a mile. When the tide is low it is impossible for a boat to reach the vessel. The town of Panama, situated on the Pacific, presents a neat appearance and has a Catholic church. At eleven o’clock we went on board "The Golden Age." …We submit to many inconveniences, apart form the unpleasant visit of sea sickness, which however is less severe than on the Atlantic.

October 7 We encounter a very severe storm, notwithstanding the severe heat; the Captain himself was much alarmed.

October 8 All danger is past; the sea is calm and the weather, bright.

October 9 …At seven o’clock we arrive at Acapulco, a small town of Mexico and a military fort. The inhabitants are Catholics. The bay is covered with a great number of small boats. The surrounding mountains rise so high above the bay that scarcely a breeze is felt. We purchase a basket of coral, beautiful on account of the variety of colors. Our thoughts at once reverted to dear Mother Veronica. "Ah! if Mother could only have this for her cabinet," was the expression of more than one. Fruit is very abundant; oranges, coconuts and pineapples are most tempting. At ten o’clock our steamer sailed out of the bay and we were en route for San Francisco.

October 10 We are still blessed with delightful weather. A ball is given on board, during which we seek the seclusion of our cabin.

October 11 The vessel sways violently causing sea sickness among some of our number.

October 12 The sea is calmer, the heat is less intense. We pass near the Isle of St. Marguerite.

October 13 Sister Mary Bon Secours is quite ill. We pass the evening singing the canticles that were sung at Longueuil the eve of our departure.

October 14 The air is cold, a proof that we are advancing towards the North.

October 16 All are seasick. We are not yet accustomed to the rocking of the vessel. At a quarter after nine we arrive at San Francisco. The view is grand on all sides. A most enthusiastic reception is given our distinguished friend, General Scott. At ten o’clock we go ashore. We are conducted to the Convent of the Sisters of Charity…

October 17 We accepted the invitation extended by the Presentation Sisters and paid them a visit.

October 18 Our short sojourn in San Francisco has been one of rest, consolation and enjoyment. Everywhere we have been received with that sweet sisterly charity…At twenty minutes after four, p.m., we are aboard the "Northerner," the steamer that is to convey us to our destination.

October 19 Soon after our departure, we, one by one, succumbed to our unwelcome visitant, sea sickness.

October 20 A night of fearful anxiety. The sea is so rough that it is with difficulty we can remain in bed. To add to our terror the ship takes fire. Happily the wind has almost subsided and the flames are extinguished. Full of confidence in our Heavenly Mother’s protection which has never failed us since our departure from Canada, we remain in our beds and cast ourselves anew under her merciful care.
The crossing of the Bar in the Columbia, again reawakened our fears. His Grace asked us to unite our prayers with his for a safe passage. At this season the dense fog makes it extremely dangerous for vessels.

October 21 We arrived at Fort Vancouver very early this morning, Friday, but remained aboard the steamer until 6 o’clock, am. Two small boats were detached from their fastenings to conduct us to the wharf which is at some distance from the part of the river in which our steamer was anchored. Mother Joseph of the Sacred Heart and Sister Blandina were awaiting us at the landing. Useless to attempt picturing g our joy on beholding these dear Sisters so well known to us in Montreal, and at so great a distance from home. The joy of our dear Sister M. Florentine was unbounded. After the first emotions of such a reunion were over, we repaired to the Church. …(Mass, breakfast with Providence sisters)
Breathing heartfelt sisterly thanks, we wended our way to the steamer which was preparing to set out. Four hours later the cannon of the "Northerner" announced the return of our venerable Archbishop to the flock, the visit of General Scott, Major Thomas and other members of his staff, and our arrival.
A few minutes later our feet touch, for the first time, our new field of labor. The spectacle of ... Sisters was as strange as it was new to the people of Portland. …

After a short rest at the Western Hotel we start for our future home. It rains, the streets are almost impassable – the distance is great and we are soon exhausted. We borrow new strength and at length arrive, only to meet with another contradiction. No key is at hand and locked doors greet us on every side. But the most ingenious removes the lock and we are finally at home, if such a scene as meets our eyes, can deserve that sweet name. The lowliest hovel could not have been filthier.

Fortunately His Grace purchases two brooms on our way through the town and we are at work while resting! Alas! shovels would have answered the purpose better for removing the masses of debris from the corners and closets; it looks somewhat like a human habitation. The trunks are now called upon. We have not far to search before we discover that a voyage across the Atlantic could not be safely undertaken by Dame Crockery.

Sister M. Alphonse and Sister M. Febronia go to the stores to purchase such articles as are indispensable. Mr. and Mrs. Robinson, friends of the Archbishop accompany them. Here is the memorandum of our first bill of merchandise: six pairs of blankets; several yards of cotton; plates; knives and forks; a kitchen stove; and a few other objects, all on credit. The merchants receive us cordially and they would gladly have doubled our account. When our Sisters arrived home, our first day in Portland was declining.

We had been kindly invited to supper at Mrs. Robinson’s and Mrs. McCormick’s homes. As the latter resided nearer to the convent, we decided, after thanking Mr. and Mrs. Robinson, to accept Mrs. McCormick’s generous offer. It required the well served table that our host and hostess had prepared to satisfy the hunger of travelers whose only food that day had been a light breakfast. Mr. and Mrs. McCormick would share the honor of waiting on us. Supper over, we formed the acquaintance of the little family of four bright boys and had the pleasure of hearing Mrs. McCormick sing and play.

When about to say good night they insist on our accepting blankets. Having a limited supply we decline the use of theirs. We hasten toward home anxious to replace our good Sister Mary Julie and Mary Agathe who, with Oliver Blanchet and Lucien Bourgault, had acted as guardians. Our kind host and his brother in law escort us home by the light of candles which are the with difficulty kept burning. But our dear Sisters are saved an unpleasant walk. Mr. McCormick and Mr. Robbins hasten away to return in a very short time with a plentiful supply of food for the hungry. …

Do our dear Mothers and Sisters in Longueuil ever attempt a fancy picture of our first Oregonian establishment? Ah, however miserable they might imagine it, it would fall short of the reality. Yet, we do not complain of the utter poverty of our surroundings; the protecting hand of Divine Providence has lovingly directed our footsteps and provided for all our necessities – the future we place in the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary – our anxieties, our griefs, - we are the weak instruments chosen to make these Holy Names known and loved.

What a privilege to bear some resemblance to the Holy family! We have at best a stable for our abode, the bare floor for our couch and out satchels for pillows. The middle room facing the south, was the one chosen for our dormitory. Here, having spread our blankets, we arranged ourselves according to our ranks. The two dear Sisters of St. Anne shared our poverty. We had planned to accommodate all in that spacious bed, but we had to reconsider. It was at length determined that some should be length wise, others crosswise. Queen Victoria on her bed of down could not have slept more soundly than we on our hard bed.

We left our Mother house on Friday – on a Friday too we arrived at Portland. Was it now a day well adapted to inspire us with patience and resignation to the will of God? May our Divine Lord grant us the grace to imitate His submission to the will of his heavenly Father!