Captain Pellow was taken up by the boats and carried to Commissioner Fanshaw's house in the dock-yard, very weak with the exertions he had made, and so shocked with the distressing cause of them, that he at first appeared scarcely to know where he was, or to be sensible of his situation. In the course of a day or two, when he was a little recovered, he was removed to the house of a friend, Dr. Hawker of Plymouth.

Sir Richard King had given a public dinner in honor of the coronation. Captain Charles Rowley, of the Unite frigate, calling in the morning, was engaged to stay, and excused himself from dining, as he had previously intended, on board the Amphion.

Captain Darby of the Bellerophon, was also to have dined with Captain Pellow, and had come round in his boat from Cawsand Bay; but having to transact some business concerning the ship with Sir Richard King, it detained him half an hour longer at Stone-house than he expected. He had just gone down to the beach and was stepping into the boat to proceed up to Hamoaze, when he heard the fatal explosion. Captain Swaffield was to have sailed the next day, so that the difference of twenty-four hours would have saved that much lamented and truly valuable officer. His brother Mr. J. Swaffield, of the Pay-Office, being asked to the same dinner, had set off with him from Stone-house, but before he had reached Dock a person came after him upon business, which obliged him to return, and thus saved him from sharing his brother's untimely fate.

Many conjectures were formed concerning the cause of this catastrophe. Some conceived it to be owing to neglect, as the men were employed in drawing the guns, and contrary to rule, had not extinguished all the fires, though the dinners were over. This, however, the first lieutenant declared to be impossible, as they could not be drawing the guns, the key of the magazine hanging, to his certain knowledge, in his cabin at the time. Some of the men likewise declared that the guns were drawn in the Sound before they came up Hamoaze. It was also insinuated, that it was done intentionally, as several of the bodies were afterwards found without clothes, as if they had prepared to jump overboard before the ship could have time to blow up. As no mutiny had ever appeared in the ship, it seems unlikely that such a desperate plot should have been formed, without any one who survived having the least knowledge of it. It is, besides, a well known fact, that in almost every case of shipwreck where there is a chance of plunder, there are wretches so destitute of the common feelings of humanity as to hover round the scene of horror, in hopes, by stripping the bodies of the dead, and seizing whatever they can lay their hands on, to benefit themselves.

It was the fore magazine which took fire; had it been the after one, much more damage must have ensued. The moment the explosion was heard, Sir Richard King arose from dinner, and went in his boat on board the hulk, where the sight he beheld was dreadful; the deck covered with blood, mangled limbs and entrails blackened with gunpowder, the shreds of the Amphion's pendant and rigging hanging about her, and pieces of her shattered timbers strewed all around. Some people at dinner in the Yarmouth, though at a very small distance, declared that the report they heard did not appear to be louder than the firing of a cannon from the Cambridge, which they imagined it to be, and had never risen from dinner, till the confusion upon deck led them to think that some accident had happened.

At low water, the next day, about a foot and a half of one of the masts appeared above water; and for several days the dock-yard men were employed in collecting the shattered masts and yards, and dragging out what they could procure from the wreck. On the twenty-ninth, part of the fore-chains was hauled, shattered and splintered, also the head and cut-water.

On the 3d of October an attempt was made to raise the Amphion, between the two frigates, the Castor and Iphigenia, which were accordingly moored on each side of her; but nothing could be got up, excepting a few pieces of the ship, one or two of her guns, some of the men's chests, chairs, and part of the furniture of the cabin. Some bodies floated out from between decks, and among the rest a midshipman's.—These, and all that could be found, were towed round by boats through Stone-house bridge up to the Royal Hospital stairs, to be interred in the burying ground. The sight for many weeks was truly dreadful, the change of tide, washing out the putrid bodies, which were towed round by the boats when they would scarcely hold together.

Bodies continued to be found so late as the 30th of November, when the Amphion having been dragged round to another part of the dock-yard jetty to be broken up, the body of a woman was washed out from between decks. A sack was also dragged up, containing gunpowder, covered over at the top with biscuit, and this in some measure, confirmed an idea which had before gained ground, that the gunner had been stealing powder to sell, and had concealed what he could get out by degrees in the above manner; and that, thinking himself safe on a day when every one was entertaining his friends he had carelessly been among the gunpowder without taking the necessary precautions. As he was said to have been seen at Dock very much in liquor in the morning, it seems probable that this might have been the cause of a calamity as sudden as it was dreadful.



LOSS OF H. B. M. SHIP LA TRIBUNE,

OFF HALIFAX, NOVA SCOTIA.

La Tribune was one of the finest frigates in his Majesty's navy, mounted 44 guns, and had recently been taken from the French by Captain Williams in the Unicorn frigate.—She was commanded by Captain S. Barker, and on the 22d of September, 1797, sailed from Torbay as convoy to the Quebec and Newfoundland fleets. In latitude 49 14 and longitude 17 22, she fell in and spoke with his Majesty's ship Experiment, from Halifax; and lost sight of all her convoy on the 10th of October, in latitude 74 16 and longitude 32 11.

About eight o'clock in the morning of the following Thursday they came in sight of the harbor of Halifax, and approached it very fast, with an E. S. E. wind, when Captain Barker proposed to the master to lay the ship to, till they could procure a pilot. The master replied that he had beat a 44 gun ship into the harbor, that he had frequently been there, and there was no occasion for a pilot, as the wind was favorable. Confiding in these assurances, Captain Barker went into his cabin, where he was employed in arranging some papers which he intended to take on shore with him. In the mean time the master, placing great dependance on the judgment of a negro, named John Cosey, who had formerly belonged to Halifax, took upon himself the pilotage of the ship.

By twelve o'clock the ship approached so near the Thrum Cap shoals that the master became alarmed, and sent for Mr. Galvin, master's mate, who was sick below. On his coming upon deck, he heard the man in the chains sing out, "by the mark five!" the black man forward at the same time crying "steady!" Galvin got on one of the carronades to observe the situation of the ship; the master ran in great agitation to the wheel, and took it from the man who was steering, with the intention of wearing the ship; but before this could be effected, or Galvin was able to give an opinion, she struck.—Captain Barker immediately went on deck and reproached the master with having lost the ship. Seeing Galvin likewise on deck, he addressed him and said "that, knowing he had formerly sailed out of the harbor, he was surprised he could stand by and see the master run the ship on shore," to which Galvin replied "that he had not been on deck long enough to give an opinion."

Signals of distress were immediately made, and answered by the military posts and ships in the harbor, from which, as well as the dock-yard, boats immediately put off to the relief of the Tribune. The military boats, and one of those from the dock-yard, with Mr. Rackum, boatswain of the ordinary, reached the ship, but the wind was so much against the others, that, in spite of all their exertions, they were unable to get on board. The ship was immediately lightened by throwing overboard all her guns, excepting one retained for signals, and every other heavy article, so that about half past eight o'clock in the evening the ship began to heave, and at nine got off the shoals. She had lost her rudder about three hours before, and it was now found, on examination, that she had seven feet water in the hold. The chain-pumps were immediately manned, and such exertions were made that they seemed to gain on the leaks. By the advice of Mr. Rackum, the captain ordered the best bower anchor to be let go, but this did not bring her up. He then ordered the cable to be cut; and the jib and fore-top-mast stay-sail were hoisted to steer by. During this interval a violent gale, which had come on at S. E. kept increasing, and carrying the ship to the western shore. The small bower anchor which soon afterwards let go, at which time they found themselves in thirteen fathom of water, and the mizen-mast was then cut away.

It was now ten o'clock, and as the water gained fast upon them, the crew had but little hope left of saving either the ship or their lives. At this critical period Lieutenant Campbell quitted the ship, and Lieutenant North was taken into the boat out of one of the ports. From the moment at which the former left the vessel all hopes of safety had vanished; the ship was sinking fast, the storm was increasing with redoubled violence, and the rocky shore which they were approaching, resounded with the tremendous noise of the rolling billows, presented nothing to those who might survive the loss of the ship but the expectation of a more painful death, by being dashed against precipices, which, even in the calmest day, it is impossible to ascend. Dunlap, one of the survivors, declared, that about half past ten, as nearly as he could conjecture, one of the men who had been below, came to him on the forecastle, and told him it was all over. A few minutes afterwards the ship took a lurch, like a boat nearly filled with water and going down; on which Dunlap immediately began to ascend the fore-shrouds, and at the same moment casting his eyes towards the quarter-deck, he saw Captain Barker standing by the gangway, and looking into the water, and directly afterwards he heard him call for the jolly-boat. He then saw the lieutenant of marines running towards the taffrel, to look, as he supposed, for the jolly-boat, which had been previously let down with men in her; but the ship instantly took a second lurch and sunk to the bottom, after which neither the captain nor any of the other officers were again seen.

The scene, before sufficiently distressing, now became peculiarly awful. More than 240 men, besides several women and children, were floating on the waves, making the last effort to preserve life. Dunlap, who has been already mentioned, gained the fore-top. Mr. Galvin, the master's mate, with incredible difficulty, got into the main-top. He was below when the ship sunk, directing the men at the chain-pump, but was washed up the hatchway, thrown into the waist and from thence into the water, and his feet, as he plunged, struck against a rock. On ascending he swam to gain the main-shrouds, when three men suddenly seized hold of him. He now gave himself up for lost; but to disengage himself from them he made a dive into the water, which caused them to quit their grasp. On rising again he swam to the shrouds, and having reached the main-top, seated himself on an arm chest which was lashed to the mast.

From the observations of Galvin in the main-top, and Dunlap in the fore-top, it appears that nearly one hundred persons were hanging a considerable time to the shrouds, the tops and other parts of the wreck. From the length of the night, and the severity of the storm, nature, however, became exhausted, and during the whole night they kept dropping off and disappeared. The cries and groans of the unhappy sufferers, from the bruises many of them had received, and their hopes of deliverance beginning to fail, were continued through the night, but as morning approached, in consequence of the few who then survived, they became extremely feeble.

About twelve o'clock the main-mast gave way; at that time there were on the main-top and shrouds about forty persons. By the fall of the mast the whole of these unhappy wretches were again plunged into the water, and ten only regained the top, which rested on the main-yard, and the whole remained fast to the ship by some of the rigging. Of the ten who thus reached the top, four only were alive when morning appeared. Ten were at that time, alive on the fore-top, but three were so exhausted, and so helpless, that they were washed away before any relief arrived; three others perished, and thus only four were, at last, left alive on the fore-top.

The place where the ship went down was barely three times her length to the southward of the entrance into Herring Cove. The inhabitants came down in the night to the point opposite to which the ship sunk, kept up large fires, and were so near as to converse with the people on the wreck.

The first exertion that was made for their relief was by a boy thirteen years old, from Herring Cove, who ventured off in a small skiff by himself about eleven o'clock the next day. This youth, with great labor and extreme risk to himself, boldly approached the wreck, and backed in his little boat so near to the fore-top as to take off two of the men, for the boat could not with safety hold any more. And here a trait of generous magnanimity was exhibited, which ought not to pass unnoticed. Dunlap and another man, named Monro, had throughout this disastrous night, preserved their strength and spirits in a greater degree than their unfortunate companions, who they endeavored to cheer and encourage when they found their spirits sinking. Upon the arrival of the boat these two might have stepped into it, and thus have terminated their own sufferings; for their two companions, though alive, were unable to stir; they lay exhausted on the top, wishing not to be disturbed, and seemed desirous to perish in that situation. These generous fellows hesitated not a moment to remain themselves on the wreck, and to save their unfortunate companions against their will. They lifted them up, and with the greatest exertion placed them in the boat, the MANLY BOY rowed them triumphantly to the Cove, and immediately had them conveyed to a comfortable habitation. After shaming, by his example, older persons, who had larger boats, he again put off with his skiff, but with all his efforts he could not then approach the wreck. His example, however, was soon followed by four of the crew who had escaped in the Tribune's jolly-boat, and by some of the boats in the Cove. With their joint exertions, the eight men were preserved, and these with the four who had saved themselves in the jolly-boat, were the whole of the survivors of this fine ship's company.

A circumstance occurred in which that cool thoughtlessness of danger, which so often distinguishes our British tars, was displayed in such a striking manner, that it would be inexcusable to omit it. Daniel Monro, had, as we have already seen, gained the fore-top. He suddenly disappeared, and it was concluded that he had been washed away like many others. After being absent from the top about two hours, he, to the surprise of Dunlap, who was likewise on the fore-top, raised his head through the lubber-hole; Dunlap inquiring where he had been, he told him he had been cruising for a better birth; that after swimming about the wreck for a considerable time, he had returned to the fore-shrouds, and crawling in on the catharpins, had actually been sleeping there more than an hour, and appeared greatly refreshed.



BURNING OF THE PRINCE,

A FRENCH EAST INDIAMAN.

On the 19th of February 1752, a French East Indiaman, called the Prince, sailed from Port L'Orient on a voyage outward bound. But soon afterwards, a sudden shift of wind drove her on a sand bank, where she was exposed to imminent danger, and heeled so much that the mouths of the guns lay in the sea. By lightening the ship, however, accompanied by incessant and laborious exertions, she floated with the rise of the tide, and, being again carried into port, was completely unloaded, and underwent a thorough repair.

The voyage was resumed on the 10th of June, with a favorable wind, and for several weeks, seemed to promise every success that could be desired.

While in south latitude 8 30, and in 5 west longitude from Paris, M. de la Fond, one of the lieutenants of the ship, was, just at the moment of this observation, informed by a seaman, that smoke was issuing from the main hatchway. The first lieutenant, who had the keys of the hold, immediately ordered every hatchway to be opened to ascertain the truth.

But the fact was too soon verified, and, while the captain hastened on deck from the great cabin, where he sat at dinner, Lieutenant de la Fond ordered some sails to be dipped in the sea, and the hatches to be covered with them in order to prevent the access of air, and thus stifle the fire. He had even intended, as a more effectual measure, to let in the water between decks to the depth of a foot, but clouds of smoke issued from the crevices of the hatchways, and the flames gained more and more by degrees.

Meantime the captain ordered sixty or eighty soldiers under arms, to restrain any disorder and confusion which might probably ensue; and in this he was supported by their commander, M. de la Touche, who exhibited uncommon fortitude on the occasion.

Every one was now employed in procuring water; all the buckets were filled, the pumps plied, and pipes introduced from them to the hold. But the rapid progress of the flames baffled the exertions to subdue them, and augmented the general consternation.

The yawl lying in the way of the people, was hoisted out by order of the captain, and the boatswain, along with three others took possession of it. Wanting oars, they were supplied with some by three men who leaped overboard. Those in the ship, however, desired them to return, but they exclaimed, that they wanted a rudder, and desired a rope to be thrown out. However, the progress of the flames soon shewing them their only alternative for safety, they withdrew from the ship, and she from the effect of a breeze springing up, passed by.

On board the utmost activity still prevailed, and the courage of the people seemed to be augmented by the difficulty of escape. The master boldly went down into the hold, but the intense heat compelled him to return, and, had not a quantity of water been dashed over him, he would have been severely scorched. Immediately subsequent to this period, flames violently burst from the main hatchway.

At that time the captain ordered the boats to be got out, while consternation enfeebled the most intrepid. The long-boat had been secured at a certain height, and she was about to be put over the ship's side, when, unhappily, the fire ran up the main-mast, and caught the tackle; the boat fell down on the guns, bottom upwards, and it was vain to think of getting her righted.

At length it became too evident that the calamity was beyond the reach of human remedy; nothing but the mercy of the Almighty could interpose; consternation was universally disseminated among the people; nothing but sighs and groans resounded through the vessel, and the very animals on board, as if sensible of the impending danger, uttered the most dreadful cries. The certainty of perishing in either element was anticipated by every human being here, and each raised his heart and hands towards Heaven.

The chaplain, who was now on the quarter-deck, gave the people general absolution for their sins, and then repaired to the quarter-gallery to extend it yet further, to those miserable wretches, who, in hopes of safety, had already committed themselves to the waves. What a horrible spectacle! Self-preservation was the only object; each was occupied in throwing overboard whatever promised the most slender chance of escape, yards, spars, hen-coops and everything occurring, was seized in despair, and thus employed.

Dreadful confusion prevailed. Some leaped into the sea, anticipating that death which was about to reach them; others, more successful, swam to fragments of the wreck; while the shrouds, yards and ropes, along the side of the vessel, were covered with the crew crowding upon them, and hanging there, as if hesitating which alternative of destruction to choose, equally imminent and equally terrible.

A father was seen to snatch his son from the flames, fold him to his breast, and, then throwing him into the sea, himself followed, where they perished in each other's embrace.

Meantime Lieutenant Fond ordered the helm to be shifted. The ship heeled to larboard, which afforded a temporary preservation, while the fire raged along the starboard from stem to stern.

Lieutenant Fond had, until this moment, been engrossed by nothing but adopting every means to preserve the ship; now, however, the horrors of impending destruction were too conspicuously in view. His fortitude, notwithstanding, through the goodness of Heaven, never forsook him; looking around, he found himself alone on the deck, and he retired to the round-house. There he met M. de la Touche, who regarded the approach of death with the same heroism which, in India, had gained him celebrity. "My brother and friend," he cried, "farewell."—"Whither are you going?" asked Lieutenant Fond. "To comfort my friend, the captain," he replied.

M. Morin, who commanded this unfortunate vessel, stood overwhelmed with grief for the melancholy state of his female relatives, passengers along with him. He had persuaded them to commit themselves to the waves on hen-coops, while some of the seamen, swimming with one hand, endeavored to support them with the other.

The floating masts and yards were covered with men struggling with the watery element, many of whom now perished by balls discharged from the guns as heated by the fire, and thus presenting a third means of destruction, augmenting the horrors environing them. While anguish pierced the heart of M. de la Fond, he withdrew his eyes from the sea; and a moment after, reaching the starboard gallery, he saw the flames bursting with frightful noise through the windows of the round-house and of the great cabin. The fire approached, and was ready to consume him. Considering it vain to attempt the further preservation of the ship, or the lives of his fellow sufferers, he thought it his duty, in this dreadful condition, to save himself yet a few hours, that these might be devoted to Heaven.

Stripping off his clothes, he designed slipping down a yard, one end of which dipped in the water; but it was so covered with miserable beings, shrinking from death, that he tumbled over them and fell into the sea. There a drowning soldier caught hold of him. Lieutenant Fond made every exertion to disengage himself, but in vain; he even allowed himself to sink below the surface, yet he did not quit his grasp. Lieutenant Fond plunged down a second time; still he was firmly held by the man, who then was incapable of considering that his death, instead of being of service, would rather hasten his own. At last, after struggling a considerable time, and swallowing a great quantity of water, the soldier's strength failed; and sensible that M. de la Fond was sinking a third time, he dreaded to be carried down along with him, and loosened his grasp, no sooner was this done, than M. de la Fond to guard against a repetition, dived below the surface, and rose at a distance from the place.

This incident rendered him more cautious for the future; he even avoided the dead bodies, now so numerous, that to make a free passage, he was compelled to shove them aside with one hand, while he kept himself floating with the other; for he was impressed with the apprehension, that each was a person who would seize him, and involve him in his own destruction. But strength beginning to fail, he was satisfied of the necessity of some respite, when he fell in with part of the ensign-staff. He put his arm through a noose of the rope to secure it, and swam as well as he could; then perceiving a yard at hand, he seized it by one end. However, beholding a young man scarce able to support himself at the other extremity, he quickly abandoned so slight an aid, and one which seemed incapable of contributing to his preservation. Next the spritsail-yard appeared in view, but covered with people, among whom he durst not take a place without requesting permission, which they cheerfully granted. Some were quite naked, others in nothing except their shirts; the pity they expressed at the situation of M. de la Fond, and his sense of their misfortunes, exposed his feelings to a severe trial.

Neither Captain Morin, nor M. de la Touche ever quitted the ship, and were most probably overwhelmed in the catastrophe by which she was destroyed. But the most dismal spectacle was exhibited on all sides; the main-mast, consumed below, had been precipitated overboard, killing some in the fall, and affording a temporary reception to others. M. de la Fond now observed it covered with people, driven about by the waves; and at the same time, seeing two seamen buoyed up by a hen-coop and some planks, desired them to swim to him with the latter; they did so, accompanied by more of their comrades, and each taking a plank, which were used for oars, they and he paddled along upon the yard, until gaining those who had secured themselves on the main-mast. So many alternations only presented new spectacles of horror.

The chaplain was at this time on the mast, and from him M. de la Fond received absolution; two young ladies were also there, whose piety and resignation were truly consolatory; they were the only survivors of six, their companions had perished in the flames or in the sea. Eighty persons had found refuge on the main-mast, who, from the repeated discharge of cannon from the ship, according to the progress of the flames, were constantly exposed to destruction. The chaplain, in this awful condition, by his discourse and example, taught the duty of resignation. M. de la Fond observing him lose his hold on the mast, and drop into the sea, lifted him up. "Let me go," said he. "I am already half drowned, and it is only protracting my sufferings."—"No, my friend," the lieutenant replied, "when my strength is exhausted, not till then, we will perish together;" and in his pious presence he calmly awaited death. After remaining here three hours, he beheld one of the ladies fall from the mast and perish.—She was too remote to receive any assistance from him.

But when least in expectation of it, he saw the yawl close at hand, at five in the afternoon. He cried to the men that he was their lieutenant, and requested to be allowed to participate in their fate. His presence was too necessary for them to refuse his solicitations, they needed a conductor who might guide them to the land; thus they permitted him to come on board, on condition that he should swim to the yawl. This was a reasonable stipulation; it was to avoid approaching the mast, else, the rest actuated by the same desire of self-preservation, would soon have overloaded the little vessel, and all would have been buried in a watery grave. M. de la Fond, therefore, summoning up all his strength and courage, was so happy as to reach the seamen. In a little time afterwards, the pilot and master, whom he had left on the mast, followed his example, and swimming towards the yawl were seen and taken in.

The flames still continued raging in the vessel, and as the yawl was still endangered by being within half a league of her, she stood a little to windward. Not long subsequent to this, the fire reached the magazine; and then to describe the thundering explosion which ensued is impossible. A thick cloud intercepted the light of the sun, and amidst the terrific darkness nothing but pieces of flaming timber, projected aloft into the air, could be seen, threatening to crush to atoms in their fall, numbers of miserable wretches still struggling with the agonies of death. Nor were the party in the yawl beyond the reach of hazard; it was not improbable that some of the fiery fragments might come down upon them, and precipitate their frail support to the bottom. Though the Almighty preserved them from that shocking calamity, they were shocked with the spectacle environing them. The vessel had now disappeared; the sea, to a great distance, was covered with pieces of the wreck, intermingled with the bodies of those unhappy creatures who had perished by their fall. Some were seen who had been choked, others mangled, half consumed and still retaining life enough to be sensible of the accumulated horrors overwhelming them.

The fortitude of M. de la Fond was still preserved, through the favour of Heaven, and he proposed approaching the wreck, to see whether any provisions or necessary articles might be picked up. He and his companions being totally devoid of every thing, were exposed to the hazard of a death even more painful than that which the others had suffered, in perishing of famine. But finding several barrels, which they hoped might contain something to relieve their necessities, they experienced great mortification, on ascertaining that they were part of the powder that had been thrown overboard during the conflagration of their unfortunate vessel.

As night approached, they providentially discovered a cask of brandy, about fifteen pounds of salt pork, a piece of scarlet cloth, twenty yards of linen, a dozen of pipe staves, and a small quantity of cordage. When it became dark they durst not venture to retain their present station until day-light without being endangered by the wreck, from the fragments of which they had not then been able to disengage themselves. Therefore they rowed as quickly away as possible from among them, and bent all their care to the management of the yawl.

The whole began to labor assiduously, and every article which could be converted to use was employed; the lining of the boat was tore up for the sake of the planks and nails; a seaman luckily had two needles, and the linen afforded whatever thread was necessary; the piece of scarlet cloth was substituted for a sail; an oar was erected for a mast, and a plank served for a rudder. The equipment of the boat was soon completed, notwithstanding the darkness of the night, at least as well as circumstances would allow. Yet a great difficulty remained, for wanting charts and instruments, and being nearly two hundred leagues from land, the party felt at a loss what course to steer. Resigning themselves to the Almighty, they offered up fervent prayers for his direction.

At length the sail was hoisted, and a favorable breeze soon wafted M. de la Fond from amidst the bodies of his miserable comrades.

Eight days and nights the adventurers advanced without seeing land; naked and exposed to the scorching heat of the sun by day, and to intense cold by night. But to relieve the thirst which parched them, they availed themselves of a shower of rain, falling on the sixth, and tried to catch a little of it in their mouths and with their hands. They sucked the sail, which was wet with the rain, but from being previously drenched with sea water, it imparted a bitterness to the fresh water which it received. However, they did not complain, for had the rain been heavier, it might have lulled the wind, in the continuance of which they rested their hopes of safety.

In order to ascertain the proper course, the adventurers paid daily observance to the rising and setting of the sun and moon, and the position of the stars pointed out how they should steer. All their sustenance in the meantime was a small piece of pork once in twenty-four hours, and this they were even obliged to relinquish on the fourth day, from the heat and irritation it occasioned of their bodies. Their beverage was a glass of brandy taken from time to time, but it inflamed their stomachs without assuaging the thirst that consumed them. Abundance of flying fish were seen; the impossibility of catching any of which only augmented the pain already endured, though M. de la Fond and his companions tried to reconcile themselves to the scanty pittance that they possessed. Yet the uncertainty of their destiny, the want of subsistence, and the turbulence of the ocean, all contributed to deprive them of repose, which they so much required, and almost plunged them in despair. Nothing but a feeble ray of hope preserved them under their accumulated sufferings.

The eighth night was passed by M. de la Fond at the helm; there he had remained above ten hours, after soliciting relief, and at last sunk down under fatigue. His miserable companions were equally exhausted, and despair began to overwhelm the whole.

At last when the united calamities of hunger, thirst, fatigue and misery, predicted speedy annihilation, the dawn of Wednesday, the 3d of August, shewed this unfortunate crew the distant land. None but those who have experienced the like situation, can form any adequate idea of the change which was produced. Their strength was renovated, and they were aroused to precautions against being drifted away by the current. They reached the coast of Brazil, in latitude 6 south, and entered Tresson Bay.

The first object of M. de la Fond and his companions was to return thanks for the gracious protection of Heaven; they prostrated themselves on the ground, and then in the transport of joy rolled among the sand.

They exhibited the most frightful appearance; nothing human characterized them, which did not announce their misfortune in glaring colors. Some were quite naked; others had only shirts, rotten and torn to rags. M. de la Fond had fastened a piece of the scarlet cloth about his waist, in order to appear at the head of his companions. Though rescued from imminent danger, they had still to contend with hunger and thirst, and remained in ignorance whether they should meet men endowed with humanity in that region.

While deliberating on the course they should follow, about fifty Portuguese of the settlement, there established, advanced and inquired the cause of their presence. Their misfortunes were soon explained, and the recital of them proved a sufficient claim for supplying their wants. Deeply affected by the account now given, the Portuguese congratulated themselves that it had fallen to their lot to relieve the strangers, and speedily led them to their dwellings. On the way the seamen were rejoiced at the sight of a river, into which they threw themselves, plunging in the water, and drinking copious draughts of it to allay their thirst. Afterwards frequent bathing proved one of the best restoratives of health, to which they all resorted.

The chief man of the place next came, and conducted M. de la Fond and his companions to his house, about a half a league distant from the spot where they landed. He charitably supplied them with linen shirts and trowsers, and boiled some fish, the water of which was relished as delicious broth. Though sleep was equally necessary as this frugal fare, the survivors having learned that there was a church within half a league, dedicated to St. Michael, repaired thither to render thanks to Heaven for their miraculous preservation. The badness of the road induced such fatigue as compelled them to rest in the village where it stood, and there the narrative of their misfortunes, added to the piety which they exhibited, attracted the notice of the inhabitants, all of whom hastened to minister something to their necessities. After remaining a short interval they returned to their host, who at night kindly contributed another repast of fish. Something more invigorating, however, being required by people who had endured so much, they purchased an ox for a quantity of the brandy that had been saved from the wreck.

Paraibo was distant fifteen leagues, and they had to set out barefoot, and with little chance of finding suitable provisions on the journey.

Thus they smoke-dried their present store, and added a little flour to it. In three days they began to march, and, under an escort of three soldiers, advanced seven leagues the first day, when they were hospitably received by a person, and passed the night in his house. On the following evening, a serjeant and twenty-nine men arrived to conduct them to the commandant of the fortress, who gave them a friendly reception, afforded them supplies, and provided a boat to carry them to Paraibo. About midnight they reached the town, where a Portuguese captain attended to present them to the governor, from whom also they experienced the like attention. Being anxious to reach Fernambuc, to take advantage of a Portuguese fleet, daily expected to sail for Europe, the governor, in three days more, ordered a corporal to conduct the party thither. But at this time M. de la Fond's feet were so cruelly wounded, he was scarce able to stand, and on that account was supplied with a horse. In four days he arrived at Fernambuc, where, from different naval and military officers, he met with the utmost attention and consideration; he and all his companions got a passage to Europe in the fleet.

M. de la Fond sailed on the 5th of October, and reached Lisbon in safety on the 17th of December; thence he procured a passage to Morlaix, where having rested a few days to recruit his strength, he repaired to Port L'Orient, with his health greatly injured by the calamities he had suffered, and reduced to a state of poverty, having after twenty-eight years service, lost all he had in the world.

By this deplorable catastrophe, nearly three hundred persons perished.



WRECK OF THE SCHOONER BETSEY,

ON A REEF OF ROCKS.

The Betsey, a small schooner of about 75 tons burden, sailed from Macao in China, for New South Wales, on the 10th of November, 1805. Her complement consisted of William Brooks, commander, Edward Luttrell, mate, one Portuguese seacunny, three Manilla and four Chinese Lascars. No incident worthy of commemoration happened from the 10th to 20th of November. Next day, when the vessel was going at the rate of seven knots and a half an hour, she struck on a reef of rocks at half past two in the morning, while in north latitude 9 48, and 114 14 east longitude. The boat was instantly let down, and a small anchor sent astern, but on heaving, the cable parted, and both were lost. The people next endeavored to construct a raft of the water casks, but the swell proved so great that they found it impossible to accomplish their purpose. At day-break they found that the vessel had forged four or five miles on the reef, which they now discovered extended nine or ten miles to the south, and four or five east and west; and there were only two feet water where she lay. During three days and nights, the utmost exertions were made to get her off without avail, and the crew had then become so weakened that they could scarce be persuaded to construct a raft.

The vessel now had bulged on the starboard side. But a raft being made on the 24th, the people left her with the jolly-boat in company, and steered for Balambangan. Captain Brooks, the mate, the gunner and two seacunnies were in the latter, where their whole provision consisted of only a small bag of biscuit; and on the raft were the Portuguese, four Chinese and three Malays, but much better provided.

The boat and the raft parted company on the same day, as a brisk gale arose from the westward, and the raft was never heard of more; but it was conjectured to have probably drifted on the island of Borneo, which then bore south-east. The gale continued from the north-west until the 28th of the month, accompanied by a mountainous sea, and then ceased. By this time the fresh water taken into the boat was completely expended, and all the biscuit that remained was wet with salt water.

On the 29th at day-break, land came in view, which was supposed to be Balabac; the people were now nearly exhausted by rowing under a burning sun, and while a perfect calm prevailed; and they were besides reduced to such extremity as to drink their own urine. It blew so hard in the night that they were obliged to bear up for Bangay, the north-west point of which they discovered next morning at day-break. Going ashore they instantly made a search for fresh water, which they soon found, and considering what they had suffered from thirst, it is no wonder that they drank to excess. While rambling into the woods in quest of fruit, two Malays met them, to whom they made signs that they wanted food, and these being understood, the Malays went away, and in the afternoon returned with two cocoa-nuts and a few sweet potatoes, which they gave in exchange for a silver spoon.

Night approaching, the people returned to their boat.—Next morning five Malays made their appearance, bringing some Indian corn and potatoes, which were exchanged for spoons as before. These people pointed to Balambangan, and endeavored to make the party comprehend that sometime ago the English had abandoned the settlement. A new supply of provision was promised next morning; therefore the party retired with their little stock, and attended at the appointed time to receive more. Eleven Malays then appeared on the beach; but after a little conversation on landing, one of them threw a spear at Captain Brooks, which penetrated his belly, another made a cut at Mr. Luttrell, who parried it off with a cutlass, and ran to the boat. Captain Brooks withdrew the spear from his body, and also ran a short distance, but the inhuman assassins followed him and cut off both his legs. The gunner also was severely wounded, and reached the boat covered with blood, while the party at the same time, saw the Malays stripping the dead body of Captain Brooks; and in about fifteen minutes afterwards the gunner expired.

The survivors immediately made sail, and then examined into the state of their provisions, which they found consisted of ten cobs of Indian corn, three pumpkins, and two bottles of water. Trusting to the mercy of Providence, they with this, determined on shaping their course for the straits of Malacca.

No particular occurrence happened in the course of the voyage from the fourth to the fourteenth of December; frequent showers had fortunately supplied them with fresh water, but they were nearly exhausted by constant watching and hunger.

On the 15th they fell in with a group of islands, in 3 of north latitude, and about 100 degrees of east longitude, and approached the shore. But being descried by two Malay prows, they were immediately attacked, and one of the seacunnies was run through with a spear and died instantly, while the other was also wounded. Mr. Luttrell, the mate, had a very narrow escape from a spear piercing through his hat. The party being thus overpowered, the Malays took possession of their boat and immediately seized on all their property, a sextant, their log-book, some plate and clothes. They were themselves kept in a prow, without any covering, and exposed to the scorching heat of the sun, with an allowance of only a small quantity of sago during three days. After that time they were carried ashore to the house of a rajah, on an island called Sube, where they remained in a state of slavery, entirely naked, and subsisting on sago, until the 20th of April. The Rajah sailed on that day in a prow for Rhio, taking Mr. Luttrell and the two other survivors along with him, and arrived there nearly famished, after a tedious passage of twenty-five days.

Here their distresses were alleviated by Mr. Koek of Malacca, who treated them in the kindest manner; and the ship Kandree, commanded by Captain Williamson, arriving next day, they obtained a passage in her for Malacca.



EARLY AMERICAN HEROISM.

During one of the former wars, between France and England, in which the then Colonies bore an active part, a respectable individual, a member of the society of Friends, of the name of ——, commanded a fine ship which sailed from an Eastern port, to a port in England. This vessel had a strong and effective crew, but was totally unarmed. When near her destined port, she was chased, and ultimately overhauled, by a French vessel of war. Her commander used every endeavor to escape, but seeing from the superior sailing of the Frenchman, that his capture was inevitable, he quietly retired below: he was followed into the cabin by his cabin boy, a youth of activity and enterprise, named Charles Wager: he asked his commander if nothing more could be done to save the ship—his commander replied that it was impossible, that every thing had been done that was practicable, there was no escape for them, and they must submit to be captured. Charles then returned upon deck and summoned the crew around him—he stated in a few words what was their captain's conclusion—then, with an elevation of mind, dictated by a soul formed for enterprise and noble daring, he observed, "if you will place yourselves under my command, and stand by me, I have conceived a plan by which the ship may be rescued, and we in turn become the conquerors." The sailors no doubt feeling the ardor, and inspired by the courage of their youthful and gallant leader, agreed to place themselves under his command. His plan was communicated to them, and they awaited with firmness, the moment to carry their enterprise into effect. The suspense was of short duration, for the Frenchman was quickly alongside, and grappled to the merchant ship. As Charles had anticipated, the exhilarated conquerors, elated beyond measure, with the acquisition of so fine a prize, poured into his vessel cheering and huzzaing; and not foreseeing any danger, they left but few men on board their ship. Now was the moment for Charles, who, giving his men the signal, sprang at their head on board the opposing vessel, while some seized the arms which had been left in profusion on her deck, and with which they soon overpowered the few men left on board; the others, by a simultaneous movement, relieved her from the grapplings which united the two vessels. Our hero now having the command of the French vessel, seized the helm, and placing her out of boarding distance, hailed, with the voice of a conqueror, the discomfited crowd of Frenchmen who were left on board of the peaceful bark he had just quitted, and summoned them to follow close in his wake, or he would blow them out of water, (a threat they well knew he was very capable of executing, as their guns were loaded during the chase.) They sorrowfully acquiesced with his commands, while gallant Charles steered into port, followed by his prize. The exploit excited universal applause—the former master of the merchant vessel was examined by the Admiralty, when he stated the whole of the enterprise as it occurred, and declared that Charles Wager had planned and effected the gallant exploit, and that to him alone belonged the honor and credit of the achievement. Charles was immediately transferred to the British navy, appointed a midshipman, and his education carefully superintended. He soon after distinguished himself in action, and underwent a rapid promotion, until at length he was created an Admiral, and known as Sir Charles Wager. It is said that he always held in veneration and esteem, that respectable and conscientious Friend, whose cabin boy he had been, and transmitted yearly to his OLD MASTER, as he termed him, a handsome present of Madeira, to cheer his declining days.



FINGAL'S CAVE.

The most magnificent of all known caverns, is that called Fingal's Cave, in the Isle of Staffa, on the western coast of Scotland. Its length is 370 feet; and the height at the entrance of the cave is 117 feet.

Thousands of majestic columns of basalts support a lofty roof, under which the sea rolls its waves, while the vastness of the entrance allows the light of day to penetrate the various recesses of the cave.

The mind, says Mr. Pennant, can hardly form an idea more magnificent than such a space, supported on each side by ranges of columns, and roofed by the bottom of those which have been broken off in order to form it, between the angles of which a yellow stalagmatic matter has exuded, which serves to define the angles precisely, and, at the same time, vary the color with a great deal of elegance. To render it still more agreeable, the whole is lighted from without, so that the farthest extremity is very plainly seen; and the air within, being agitated by the flux and reflux of the tides is perfectly wholesome, and free from the damp vapors with which caverns generally abound.



THE LOSS OF THE RAMILLIES,

IN THE ATLANTIC OCEAN.

Admiral (afterwards Lord) Graves having requested leave to return to England in 1782, was appointed by Lord Rodney to command the convoy sent home with the numerous fleet of merchantmen from the West Indies in the month of July.—He accordingly hoisted his flag on board the Ramillies of 74 guns, and sailed on the 25th from Blue Fields, having under his orders the Canada and Centaur of 74 guns each, the Pallas frigate of 36 guns, and the following French ships, taken by Lord Rodney and Sir Samuel Hood, out of the armament commanded by the Count de Grasse, viz. the Ville de Paris, of 110 guns; the Glorieux and Hector, of 74 guns each; the Ardent, Caton and Jason, of 6 guns each. Those which were originally British ships had been in so many actions, and so long absent from England, as to have become extremely out of condition, while that of the prizes was still more deplorable, and the following authentic account of the various disasters which attended this distressed convoy will be found equally melancholy and interesting.

Soon after the fleet had sailed, the officers of the Ardent united in signing such a representation of her miserable plight as induced Admiral Graves to order her back to Port Royal, and the Jason, by not putting to sea with the convoy, from want of water, never joined him at all. The rest proceeded, and after those vessels that were bound for New York had separated, the whole convoy was reduced to ninety-two or three sail.

On the 8th of September the Caton springing a leak, made such alarming complaints, that the Admiral directed her and the Pallas, also become leaky, to bear away immediately, and keep company together, making for Halifax, which then bore North-North-West and was but eighty-seven leagues distant.

The afternoon of the 16th of September shewing indications of a gale and foul weather from the south-east quarter, every preparation was made on board the flag-ship for such an event, not only on account of her own safety, but also as an example to the rest of the fleet. The Admiral collected the ships about six o'clock, and brought to under his main-sail on the larboard tack, having all his other sails furled, and his top-gallant yards and masts lowered down.

The wind soon increasing, blew strong from the E. S. E. with a very heavy sea, and about three o'clock in the morning of the 17th flew suddenly round to the contrary point, blowing most tremendously, and accompanied with rain, thunder and lightning; the Ramillies was taken by the lee, her main-sail thrown back, her main-mast went by the board, and mizen-mast half way up; the fore-top mast fell over the starboard bow, the fore-yard broke in the slings, the tiller snapped in two, and the rudder was nearly torn off. Thus was this capital ship, from being in perfect order, reduced, within a few minutes to a mere wreck, by the fury of the blast and the violence of the sea, which acted in opposition to each other. The ship was pooped, the cabin, where the Admiral lay was flooded, his cot-bed jerked down by the violence of the shock and the ship's instantaneous revulsion, so that he was obliged to pull on his boots half leg deep in water, without any stockings, to huddle on his wet clothes, and repair upon deck. On his first coming thither, he ordered two of the lieutenants to examine into the state of the affairs below, and to keep a sufficient number of people at the pumps, while he himself and the captain kept the deck, to encourage the men to clear away the wreck, which, by its constant swinging backwards and forwards by every wave against the body of the ship, had beaten off much of the copper from the starboard side, and exposed the seams so much to the sea that the decayed oakum washed out, and the whole frame became at once exceedingly porous and leaky.

At dawn of day they perceived a large ship lying under their lee, lying upon her side, water-logged, her hands attempting to wear her by first cutting away the mizen-mast, and then her main-mast; hoisting her ensign, with the union downwards in order to draw the attention of the fleet; but to no purpose, for no succour could be given, and she very soon went down head fore-most, the fly of her ensign being the last thing visible. This was the Dutton, formerly an East Indiaman, and then a store-ship, commanded by a lieutenant of the navy, who in his agitation, leaped from her deck into the sea; but, as might be expected, was very soon overwhelmed by its billows. Twelve or thirteen of the crew contrived, however, to slide off one of the boats, and running with the wind, first endeavored to reach a large ship before them, which, not being able to fetch, and afraid of filling if they attempted to haul up for the purpose, they made up for another ship more to the leeward, who fortunately descrying them, threw a number of ropes, by the help of which these desperate fellows scrambled up her sides, and fortunately saved their lives. Out of ninety-four or five sail, seen the day before, scarcely twenty could now be counted; of the ships of war, there were discerned the Canada, half hull down upon the lee-quarter, having her main-top-mast and mizen-mast gone, the main-top damaged, the main-yard aloft, and the main-sail furled; the Centaur was far to windward, without masts, bowsprit or rudder; and the Glorieux without fore-mast, bowsprit or main-top-mast. Of these the two latter perished with all their crews, excepting the captain of the Centaur, and a few of his people, who contrived to slip off her stern into one of the boats unnoticed, and thus escaped the fate of the rest of the crew.

The Ville de Paris appeared to have received no injury, and was commanded by a most experienced seaman, who had made twenty-four voyages to and from the West Indies, and had, therefore, been pitched upon to lead the ship through the Gulf; nevertheless, she was afterwards buried in the ocean with all on board her, consisting of above eight hundred people. Of the convoy, besides the Dutton, before mentioned, and the British Queen, seven others were discovered without mast or bowsprit; eighteen lost masts and several others had foundered.

In the course of this day the Canada crossed upon and passed the Ramillies; some of the trade attempted to follow the Canada, but she ran at such a rate that they soon found it to be in vain, and then returned towards the flag-ship; the Ramillies had at this time six feet water in her hold, and the pumps would not free her, the water having worked out the oakum, and her beams amid-ship being almost drawn from their clamps.

The admiral, therefore, gave orders for all the buckets to be manned, and every officer to help towards freeing the ship; the mizen-top-sail was set upon the fore-mast, the main-top-gallant-sail on the stump of the mizen-mast, and the tiller shipped. In this condition, by bearing away, she scudded on at so good a rate that she held pace with some of the merchantmen.

The day having been spent in bailing and pumping, without materially gaining on the water, the captain in the name of the officers, represented to the admiral the necessity of parting with the guns for the relief of the ship, but he objected, that there would then be left no protection for the convoy.—At length, however, after great difficulty, he consented to their disposing of the fore-castle and aftermost quarter-deck guns, together with some of the shot, and other articles of very great weight. The ensuing night was employed in bailing and endeavoring to make the pumps useful, for the ballast by getting into the well, had choked and rendered them useless, and the chains had broken every time they were repaired. The water had risen to seven feet in the hold. The wind from the westward drove a vast sea before it, and the ship being old, strained most violently.

On the morning of the 18th nothing could be seen of the Canada, she having pushed on at her greatest speed for England. The frame of the Ramillies having opened during the night, the admiral was prevailed upon, by the renewed and pressing remonstrances of the officers, although with great reluctance, to let six of the forwardmost and four of the aftermost guns of the main-deck to be thrown overboard, together with the remainder of those on the quarter-deck; and the ship still continuing to open very much, he ordered tarred canvas and hides to be nailed fore and aft from under the sills of the ports on the main-deck under the fifth plank above, or within the water-ways, and the crew, without orders did the same on the lower deck. Her increasing complaints requiring still more to be done, the admiral directed all the guns on the upper deck, the shot, both on that and the lower deck, and various heavy stores to be thrown overboard; a leakage in the light room of the grand magazine having almost filled the ship forward, and there being eight feet water in the magazine, every gentleman was compelled to take his turn at the whips, or in handing the buckets. The ship was besides frapped from the fore-mast to the main-mast.

Notwithstanding their utmost efforts the water still gained on them the succeeding night, the wind blowing very hard, with extremely heavy squalls, a part of the orlop deck fell into the hold; the ship herself seemed to work excessively, and to settle forward.

On the morning of the 19th, under these very alarming circumstances, the admiral commanded both the bower anchors to be cut away, all the junk to be flung overboard, one sheet and one bower cable to be reduced to junk and served the same way, together with every remaining ponderous store that could be got at, and all the powder in the grand magazine (it being damaged;) the cutter and pinnace to be broken up and tossed overboard, the skids having already worked off the side; every soul on board was now employed in bailing. One of the pumps was got up, but to no purpose, for the shot-lockers being broken down, some of the shot, as well as the ballast, had fallen into the well; and as the weather moderated a little, every thing was made ready to heave the lower deck guns into the sea, the admiral being anxious to leave nothing undone for the relief of the ship.

When evening approached, there being twenty merchant ships in sight, the officers united in beseeching him to go into one of them, but this he positively refused to do, deeming it, as he declared, unpardonable in a commander in chief to desert his garrison in distress; that his living a few years longer was of very little consequence, but that, by leaving his ship at such a time, he should discourage and slacken the exertions of the people, by setting a very bad example. The wind lulling somewhat during the night, all hands bailed the water, which, at this time, was six feet fore and aft.

On the morning of the 20th the admiral ordered the spare and stream anchors to be cut away, and within the course of the day all the lower deck guns to be thrown overboard.—When evening came, the spirits of the people in general, and even of the most courageous, began to fail, and they openly expressed the utmost despair, together with the most earnest desire of quitting the ship, lest they should founder in her.—The admiral hereupon advanced and told them, that he and their officers had an equal regard for their own lives, and that the officers had no intention of deserting either them or the ship, that, for his part, he was determined to try one night more in her, he, therefore, hoped and intreated they would do so too, for there was still room to imagine, that one fair day, with a moderate sea, might enable them, by united exertions to clear and secure the well against the encroaching ballast which washed into it; that if this could be done, they might be able to restore the chains to the pumps, and use them; and that then hands enough might be spared to raise jury-masts, with which they might carry the ship to Ireland; that her appearance alone, while she could swim, would be sufficient to protect the remaining part of her convoy; above all, that as every thing that could be thought of had now been done for her relief, it would be but reasonable to wait the effect. He concluded with assuring them, that he would make the signal directly for the trade to lie by them during the night, which he doubted not they would comply with.

This temperate speech had the desired effect; the firmness and confidence with which he spoke, and their reliance on his seamanship and judgment, as well as his constant presence and attention to every accident, had a wonderful effect upon them; they became pacified, and returned to their duty and their labors. Since the first disaster, the admiral had, in fact, scarcely ever quitted the deck; this they had all observed, together with his diligence in personally inspecting every circumstance of distress. Knowing his skill and experience they placed great confidence in them; and he instantly made, according to his promise, a signal for all the merchantmen.

At this period, it must be confessed, there was great reason for alarm, and but little for hope; for all the anchors and guns, excepting one, together with every other matter of weight, had been thrown overboard, and yet the ship did not seem at all relieved. The strength of the people was, likewise, so nearly exhausted, having had no sleep since the first fatal stroke, that one half of the crew were ordered to bail and the other to repose; so that, although the wind was much abated, the water still gained upon them, in spite of all their efforts, and the ship rolled and worked most prodigiously in a most unquiet sea.

At three in the morning of the 21st, being the fourth night, the well being quite broken in, the casks, ballast and remaining shot, rushed together and destroyed the cylinders of the pumps; the frame and carcase of the ship began to give way in every part, and the whole crew exclaimed that it was impossible to keep her any longer above water.

In this extremity the admiral resolved within himself not to lose a moment in removing the people whenever day-light should arrive, but told the captain not to communicate any more of his design than that he intended to remove the sick and lame at day-break; and for this purpose he should call on board all the boats of the merchantmen. He, nevertheless, gave private orders to the captain, while this was doing, to have all the bread brought upon the quarter-deck, with a quantity of beef, pork and flour, to settle the best distribution of the people according to the number of the trade ships that should obey their signal, and to allow an officer to each division of them; to have the remaining boats launched, and as soon as the sick were disposed of, to begin to remove the whole of the crew, with the utmost despatch, but without risking too many in a boat.

Accordingly at dawn, the signal was made for the boats of the merchantmen, but nobody suspected what was to follow, until the bread was entirely removed and the sick gone.—About six o'clock, the rest of the crew were permitted to go off, and between nine and ten, there being nothing further to direct and regulate, the admiral himself, after shaking hands with every officer, and leaving his barge for their better accommodation and transport, quitted forever the Ramillies, which had then nine feet water in her hold. He went into a small leaky boat, loaded with bread, out of which both him and the surgeon who accompanied him were obliged to bail the water all the way. He was in his boots, with his surtout over his uniform, and his countenance as calm and as composed as ever. He had, at going off, desired a cloak, a cask of flour and a cask of water, but could get only the flour, and he left behind all his stock, wines, furniture, books and charts, which had cost him upwards of one thousand pounds, being unwilling to employ even a single servant in saving or packing up what belonged to himself alone, in a time of such general calamity, as to appear better in that respect than any of the crew.

The admiral rowed for the Belle, Captain Forster, being the first of the trade that had borne up to the Ramillies the preceding night in her imminent distress, and by his anxious humanity set such an example to his brother traders as had a powerful influence upon them—an influence which was generally followed by sixteen others.

By three o'clock most of the crew were taken out, at which time the Ramillies had thirteen feet water in her hold, and was evidently foundering in every part, at half past four the captain, and first and third lieutenants, left her, with every soul excepting the fourth lieutenant, who staid behind only to execute the admiral's orders for setting fire to her wreck when finally deserted. The carcase burned rapidly, and the flames quickly reaching the powder, which was filled in the after magazine, and had been lodged very high, in thirty-five minutes the decks and upper works blew up with a horrid explosion and cloud of smoke, while the lower part of the hull was precipitated to the bottom of the ocean.

At this time the admiral, in the Belle, stood for the wreck to see his last orders executed, as well as to succour any boats that might be too full of men, the swell of the sea being prodigious, although the weather had been moderate ever since noon of the foregoing day. There were, however, at intervals, some squalls, with threats of the weather soon becoming violent. It was not long before they were realized, for within two hours after the last of the crew were put on board their respective ships, the wind rose to a great height, and so continued, with intermission, for six or seven successive days, so that no boat could, during that time, have lived in the water. On such a small interval depended the salvation of more than six hundred lives! Indeed, during the four days immediately preceding this catastrophe, it blew such a strong gale, and such a heavy sea followed the Ramillies, that it was always necessary to keep her with the wind upon her quarter, with seldom more than the sprit-sail hoisted upon her fore-mast, and at times with no sail at all, in which state she would run at the rate of six miles an hour. Whenever the main-top-gallant-sail was set on the stump of the mizen-mast she commonly griped too much, so as to render the steerage very difficult, and yet this had been carried, whenever it could be, in order to keep pace with the merchantmen, the slowest of which went nearly as fast under their bare poles.

Even in running thus the Ramillies rolled prodigiously, and as she grew lighter every day her motion became the more uneasy, so that the men could scarcely stand to their work, or keep their legs without something to lay hold by. There was no such thing as real repose for them when sitting or lying down upon deck, nor steadiness enough to eat or drink with any security; no meat could be dressed, nor did any man or officer go into bed. Until the afternoon of the 20th there was no venturing to bring her to, even for a boat to come on board; but, notwithstanding this desperate condition, when some were hourly dropping through fatigue and want of sleep, and the decks were covered with water, the whole of the crew behaved with the utmost obedience, attention and sobriety, and remitted no possible exertion for the preservation of the ship.

Upon their separation taking place, the officers, who were distributed with portions of the crew among the Jamaica-men, had orders respectively to deliver them to the first man of war or tender they should meet with, and to acquaint the Secretary of the Admiralty, by the earliest opportunity, of their proceedings. A pendant was hoisted on board the Belle, by way of distinction, that she might, if possible, lead the rest. Some of the trade kept with her, and others made the best of their way, apprehensive lest they should soon fall short of provisions, as they had so many more to feed.

The Silver Eel transport, which had sailed from Bluefields with the invalids of Sir George Rodney's fleet, and was under the command of a lieutenant of the navy, had been ordered to keep near the Ramillies. That ship was accordingly at hand on the 21st of September, the day of her destruction, and in consequence of several deaths on the passage had room enough for the reception of all who were now ailing or maimed, and was therefore charged with them, being properly fitted for their accommodation.

The Silver Eel parted from the admiral in latitude 42 48 N. and longitude 45 19 W. after seeing the Ramillies demolished, and being ordered to make for the first port, ran into Falmouth the 6th of October, on the afternoon of which day, one of the trade ships, with a midshipman and sixteen of the crew of the Ramillies, reached Plymouth Sound. Another of the same convoy, having on board another part of the crew, with the captain and first lieutenant, anchored in the same place before day-light the next morning. The Canada, however, having exerted her utmost speed, had, prior to all these, on the 4th of the same month got to Portsmouth, where she spread the news of the dispersion of this miserable fleet, which being conveyed to France, her privateers immediately put to sea in hopes of making prizes of them. Some of the Jamaica-men, with part of the crew of the Ramillies, fell into their hands; two of the West Indiamen were captured in sight of the Belle, but she herself with the admiral and thirty-three of his crew, arrived safe, though singly, on the 10th of October in Cork harbor, where was the Myrmidon frigate. The admiral immediately hoisted his flag on board the latter, and sailing with the first fair wind, arrived, on the 17th, in Plymouth Sound, apparently in good health, but with a settled oppression upon his breast, from having been so long and so dreadfully exposed upon the deck of the Ramillies in the horrid night when she was first overtaken by the storm; nor could he remove that complaint for upwards of six months. He brought away with him nothing but a few of his private papers, the rest of his effects having shared the same fate as his ship.

It was calculated that by the destruction of the fleet, upwards of twenty one thousand five hundred persons perished. The loss of property has been estimated by the British Government to be upwards of L20,000,000. The gale, which continued for six days, was the most tremendous one on record.



PRESERVATION OF NINE MEN,

IN A SMALL BOAT, SURROUNDED BY ISLANDS OF ICE.

We sailed from Plymouth under convoy of H. B. Majesty's ship St. Alban's, and two other ships of war, together with a fleet of merchantmen bound to the Mediterranean, having a fresh gale at north-east.

The wind still continuing, we kept company with the fleet until reaching 120 leagues to the westward; then judging ourselves clear of privateers, we proceeded on our voyage. But before gaining 300 leagues, on the 17th of March we came up with an English built ship of about 200 tons, carrying twelve guns, and sailing under a jury main-mast. On our approach she hoisted English colors; and, on being hailed, told us she belonged to London, and was now bound from Virginia homewards, which seemed probable, as many tame fowl were on board; and a red bird flew from her to us.

Our captain seeing the vessel disabled, desired her to bring to; saying, if anything was wanted on board, we should hoist out our boat and carry it thither; but this was obstinately refused; the captain declared, that our boat should not approach, and unless we kept further off, he would fire into us. This induced suspicion on our part, wherefore we run up with the vessel, and commanded her to bring to. On this she fired, and engaged us from eleven in the morning until six in the evening; then, being much damaged, she struck, and called to us to save the lives of the crew. But this request came too late, for the wind increasing, raised a great sea, which forced our ship under a reefed main-sail, whence we could not hoist out our boat, without endangering our own lives. However, by means of a light which she carried, we kept close to her, intending to hoist the boat out when it became practicable. But towards midnight her light became very low; and by a loud cry, which was heard about one o'clock, we judged that she foundered.

When the vessel struck she told us that she had fourteen Frenchmen on board, whence we conjectured her to be an English Virginia-man taken by the French; and that she had lost her main-mast in the engagement. We followed her, chasing and fighting, about thirty leagues; and when she struck we were in 45 50 north latitude.

Our booty being thus lost, we made the best of our way to Newfoundland, being bound thither on a fishing voyage. One trouble, however, seldom comes alone, and so it happened to us; for, on the 26th of March, we saw some shattered ice, at four in the afternoon, which was supposed to be the harbor ice now broken up. We were now in 46 50 north latitude, and conceived ourselves 50 leagues, though it afterwards proved seventy, from the land. The wind being at east, the top-sails were handed; and we stood northward, under our courses, hoping to get clear of the ice before night. But finding rather more than less, we tacked to the Southward, which was found unproductive of any change. Therefore, for further security, the fore-sail was furled, and the ship brought to under the main-sail, as night approached, and as there was a dead wind, so that we could lie off on neither tack, we trusted if we should fall in with the greater ice, to meet with the less shocks.

About eight or nine o'clock, we discovered a field of ice, of which we ran foul, notwithstanding our exertions to keep clear of it; and although we hung cables, coils of rope, hoops and such things, over the ship to defend her, she struck so hard, that at eleven she bilged, whence we had much difficulty to keep her afloat till day-light, by two pumps going, and bailing at three hatchways.

At the approach of day our men were much fatigued, the water increased, and against noon the hold was half full.—No one knew what to advise another, and all began to despair of their lives: we continued pumping, though to little purpose, and concluded, that if now were our appointed time, we must submit patiently to it.

But amidst this disaster, it pleased God to put it into the thoughts of some of us, that several might be preserved in the boat, whence the captain was entreated to hoist her out, and commit a few of us there.

The captain answered, that, although God could work wonders, it was improbable that so small a boat should preserve us; that it was but living a few days longer in misery; and, seeing God had cast this calamity to his lot, he was resolved to take his chance and die with his men.

Nevertheless, being much importuned, he ordered the boat out, and William Saunders and five others in her; and, that the men might not suspect their design, it was given out that the boat should go ahead to tow the ship clear of the ice.—How likely that was the reader may judge, there being but one oar, all the rest were broken by defending the ship from the ice. However, the purpose advanced.

The boat being out, and finding no effect produced in towing the ship, fell a-stern, intending to take in the captain and as many as it could safely carry, while some were preparing necessaries for a miserable voyage. A compass, and other things ready, were conveyed into it.

The captain, doctor and several others, having got out at the cabin windows and galleries, I, amongst the rest, endeavored to escape at the gallery, intending likewise, if possible, to get into the boat; but being discovered by the men, they took small arms, and kept off the boat, resolving, as she could not preserve all, that the whole should perish together.

This design being frustrated, every one, except myself and William Langmead, got into the ship again; but we were so low that we could not recover ourselves. No person coming to relieve us, we were at length forced to let go our hold, and trust to the mercy of those in the boat, who seeing us swimming towards them, hove out a rope and took us in.

We were now eight in number in the boat; and, willing to save our captain, lay hovering about the ship till night; but the men persisting in their resolution, fired at the boat and kept her off. We began to seek shelter as night approached; and, having gone among the shattered ice, made our boat fast to a small lump, and drove with it; and as we came foul of great ice, we removed and made fast to another piece, and so continued during the remainder of the night.

Looking around in the morning, the ship was seen about three leagues to the eastward in the same position as we had left her, whereon a consultation was held whether or not we should return and make another attempt to save the captain, and as many more as possible. This proposal, however, was negatived, every one alleging that the men would either fire on us, or inconsiderately crowd into the boat and sink her; therefore, it was resolved to make the best of our way to the shore. But I, considering how little it would tend to my honor to save my life, and see my captain perish, endeavored to persuade them that the ship still swam buoyant, that I hoped the leak was stopped, and that we might proceed on our voyage; but this was unavailing. When I saw myself unable to prevail thus, I desired them to row up and set me on that part of the ice next the ship, whence I should walk to her, and die with my commander.

This being unanimously agreed to, we rowed to the ice; but when we reached it, I was loth to go out. However, on calling the captain to us, Mr. John Maddick came first, and after him the doctor and some others, which the captain perceiving, came also.

The captain having left the ship, the multitude crowded so eagerly after him that we had like to have spoiled all; but by chance the boat was got off, with twenty-one people in her and hanging to her sides. Some were forced to slip; others perished on the ice, not being able to return to the ship, where the rest were lost.

On the 25th of March we took a miserable farewell of our distressed brethren, the heart of every one being so overloaded with his own misery as to have little room to pity another. Next, on considering what course to follow, we resolved to make for the shore.

Our only provision was a small barrel of flour, and a five gallon rundlet of brandy, which had been thrown overboard, and was taken up by us. We also took up an old chest, which stood us in good stead, for having but one oar, and our ship's handspikes, and a hatchet being by chance in the boat, we could split the chest, and nail it to the handspikes, which were our oars. Nails we had only, by drawing them from different parts of the boat; and the rest of the chest was used to kindle a fire. It also happened that our main tarpaulin, which had been newly tarred, was put into the boat. Of it we made a main-sail; and of an old piece of canvas, that had been a sail to a yawl, we made a fore-sail. In this condition we turned towards the shore, and observing the surrounding ice lie north and south, we steered north, and in the morning were clear of it.

Having now got into the ocean, and the wind being still easterly, we hoisted our sail, and steered west-north-west about fourteen leagues, when we fell in with another field of ice. Attempting to sail through it, we were enclosed by many great islands, which drove so fast together, that we were forced to haul up our boat on the ice, otherwise we should have perished.

Here we lay eleven days without once seeing the sea. As the ice was thick, we caught as many seals as we chose, for they were in great abundance. Our fire hearth was made of the skin, and the fat melted so easily, that we could boil the lean with it.

But by lying so long in this cold region, the men began to complain of their feet; and our boat being too small to afford room for all, there was always a hideous cry among us of hurting each other, though for this there was no remedy. We kept watch six and six, both for the convenience of room, and to guard against the ice breaking under our boat, which often happened, and then it was necessary to launch, or carry her to a place which we thought strong enough to bear her weight.

In eleven days we saw the sea, and, with great difficulty, got out the boat. We sailed about ten or twelve leagues north-north-west as before, when we were again enclosed; and this was repeated five several times. The last ice, however, was worse than any before, and although it was so thick that we could not force the boat through it, yet it was not so solid as to bear the weight of a man; therefore, notwithstanding we daily saw enough of seals, we could take none of them.

It fortunately happened, that when we parted from the hard ice, we had seven seals in store, and one that we took dead, which was consumed without consulting how it had died.

We were next reduced to short allowance, having only one among us to serve two days, which, with about three ounces of flour, mixed with water, and boiled in the fat of the seal, was all our provision. At length we were obliged to share both feet and skin, each of us allowing a little fat to make a fire. But being constrained to eat the whole, skin and bone also, scarcely boiled, injured our stomachs so much, that some of our number died, and I myself suffered severely.

On getting clear of the loose ice, if the wind was so adverse as to prevent our rowing, we made fast the boat to an island of ice until better weather. Although this sheltered us, we were often in great danger, from the islands driving foul of us, so that it was wonderful we escaped.

We drank the ice mixed with brandy; and our provisions, with good management, lasted until our coming ashore, for it pleased God to save some of us by taking others to himself. Our companions began to die two or three in a day, until we were at last reduced to nine.

The feet of several who died were bit in such a manner by the frost, that, on stripping them, which was done to give the clothes to the survivors, their toes came away with the stockings. The last who died was the boatswain, who lived until the day before we saw land.

Our compass was broke by the last field of ice through which we passed, and soon after we lost our water bucket, which was used for bailing. Our course was directed by the sun in the day-time, and the stars by night.

Though many other accidents befel us, it pleased the Lord to bring us safe to land, after passing twenty-eight days in the boat.

On the 24th of April we arrived at Baccalew, and thence repaired to the Bay of Verds, in Newfoundland, where we found three men providing for a fishing voyage, who carried us to their house, and gave us such things as they had. But they being indifferently stored, and unable to maintain us, we determined to go to St. John's, notwithstanding some of us were so much frost-bit, as to be obliged to be carried to the boat. Before getting to Cape St. Francis, however, the wind veered to the south-west, which compelled us to row all night. In the morning we reached Portugal Cove, where to our unspeakable joy, some men were found preparing for the summer's fishing. They shewed us so much compassion as to launch a boat, and tow us over to Belleisle, and there we were courteously received. All were so weak that we were carried ashore on men's shoulders; and we were besides so disfigured with hunger, cold and the oil of seals, that people could hardly recognise us as men, except for the shape. At Belleisle we remained ten days, when, being somewhat recruited, we went to St. John's. Thus, in all this extremity, God miraculously preserved nine out of ninety-six that were in the ship.



CAPTAIN ROSS'S EXPEDITION.

In the year 1818 the British Government fitted out two expeditions to the North Pole. Captain Buchan, commanding the Trent and the Dorothy was directed to attempt a passage between Spitzbergen and Nova Zembla, over the Pole, into the Pacific, and Captain Ross, commanding the Isabella and the Alexander, to attempt the north-west passage from Davis' Straits and Baffin's Bay, into the Frozen Ocean, and thence into the Pacific. Ross reached 77 deg. 40 min. latitude, and more accurately determined the situation of Baffin's Bay, which until then was believed to extend 10 deg. further to the east than it actually does. Although he sailed up Lancaster Sound, he did not advance far enough to ascertain if it was open, not having arrived there until October 1st, when danger from the ice obliged him to quit the coast. Lieutenant Parry, who had accompanied Captain Ross, was sent, in conjunction with Captain Lyon, in the year 1819, on a second voyage into Baffin's Bay, and having penetrated as far as to gain the first prize offered by Parliament (L5000) and having made the most western point ever reached in the Polar seas, he was entrusted with the direction of the Hecla and Fury, on a similar expedition in 1821. These ships returned in October 1823, without achieving the principal object for which they were dispatched. In 1824 Parry and Lyon were again sent out for the discovery of a north-west passage, in the Hecla and Fury. After wintering in Prince Regent's Bay, the ships sailed southwardly, and, in consequence of storms and icebergs, it became necessary to abandon the Fury, and with her crew on board the Hecla, Captain Parry returned to England in October 1825. The Admiralty sent Parry, in the Hecla, in 1827, to reach, if possible, the North Pole. Having journeyed thirty-five days over the ice, beginning at 81 deg. 12 min. 15 sec. he was compelled to retrace his course. So far the exertions of the British Government.

Piqued by the real, or supposed neglect of government, Captain Ross, in the spring of 1829, undertook an expedition on his own resources, with the view of effecting a passage into the Polar Sea, and to reach Behring's Straits along the northern coast of the American continent. The ship—the Victory—was lost in the first year out, and Ross and his crew had worn through the remaining time on board the wreck of the Fury. When picked up in Lancaster Sound, they were in four of the Fury's boats, which they had "found uninjured, and in the same condition in which they had been left."

The following letter, addressed by the gallant Navigator to the Admiralty, puts us in possession of all the adventures and discoveries of this memorable expedition.

On board the Isabella, of Hull, } Baffin's Bay, Sept. 1833. }

Sir,—Knowing how deeply my Lords Commissioners, of the Admiralty are interested in the advancement of nautical knowledge, and particularly in the improvement of geography, I have to acquaint you, for the information of their Lordships, that the expedition, the main object of which is to solve, if possible, the question of a north-west passage from the Pacific to the Atlantic Ocean, particularly by Prince Regent's Inlet, and which sailed from England in May, 1829, notwithstanding the loss of the fore-mast and other untoward circumstances, which obliged the vessel to refit in Greenland, reached the beach on which his Majesty's late ship Fury's stores were landed, on the 13th of August.

We found the boats, provisions, &c. in excellent condition, but no vestige of the wreck. After completing in fuel and other necessaries, we sailed on the 14th, and on the following morning rounded Cape Garry, where our new discoveries commenced, and, keeping the western shore close on board, ran down the coast in a S. W. and W. course, in from 10 to 20 fathoms, until we had passed the latitude of 72 north in longitude 94 west; here we found a considerable inlet leading to the westward, the examination of which occupied two days; at this place we were first seriously obstructed by ice, which was now seen to extend from the south cape of the inlet, in a solid mass, round by E. to E. N. E.; owing to this circumstance, the shallowness of the water, the rapidity of the tides, the tempestuous weather, the irregularity of the coast and the numerous inlets and rocks for which it is remarkable, our progress was no less dangerous than tedious, yet we succeeded in penetrating below the latitude of 70 north, in longitude 92 west, where the land, after having carried us as far east as 90, took a decidedly westerly direction, while land at the distance of 40 miles to southward, was seen extending east and west. At this extreme point our progress was arrested on the 1st of October by an impenetrable barrier of ice. We, however, found an excellent wintering port, which we named Felix Harbor.

Early in January, 1830, we had the good fortune to establish a friendly intercourse with a most interesting consociation of natives, who, being insulated by nature, had never before communicated with strangers; from them we gradually obtained the important information that we had already seen the continent of America, that about 40 miles to the S. W. there were two great seas, one to the west, which was divided from that to the east by a narrow strait or neck of land. The verification of this intelligence either way, on which our future operations so materially depended, devolved on Commander Ross, who volunteered this service early in April, and accompanied by one of the mates, and guided by two of the natives, proceeded to the spot, and found that the north land was connected to the south by two ridges of high land, 15 miles in breadth, but, taking into account a chain of fresh water lakes, which occupied the valleys between, the dry land which actually separates the two oceans is only five miles. This extraordinary isthmus was subsequently visited by myself, when Commander Ross proceeded minutely to survey the sea coast to the southward of the isthmus leading to the westward, which he succeeded in tracing to the 99th degree, or to 150 miles of Cape Turnagain of Franklin, to which point the land, after leading him into the 70th degree of north latitude, ended directly; during the same journey he also surveyed 30 miles of the adjacent coast, or that to the north of the isthmus, which, by also taking a westerly direction, forming the termination of the western sea into a gulf. The rest of this season was employed in tracing the sea coast south of the isthmus leading to the eastward, which was done so as to leave no doubt that it joined, as the natives had previously informed us, to Ockullee, and the land forming Repulse Bay. It was also determined that there was no passage to the westward for 30 miles to the northward of our position.

This summer, like that of 1818, was beautifully fine, but extremely unfavorable for navigation, and our object being now to try a more northern latitude, we waited with anxiety for the disruption of the ice, but in vain, and our utmost endeavors did not succeed in retracing our steps more than four miles, and it was not until the middle of November that we succeeded in cutting the vessel into a place of security, which we named "Sheriff's Harbor." I may here mention that we named the newly discovered continent to the southward "Boothia," as also the isthmus, the peninsula to the north, and the eastern sea, after my worthy friend, Felix Booth, Esq., the truly patriotic citizen of London, who, in the most disinterested manner, enabled me to equip this expedition in superior style.

The last winter was in temperature nearly equal to the mean of what had been experienced on the four preceding voyages, but the winters of 1830 and 1831 set in with a degree of violence hitherto beyond record—the thermometer sunk to 92 degrees below the freezing point, and the average of the year was 10 degrees below the preceding; but notwithstanding the severity of the summer, we travelled across the country to the west sea by a chain of lakes, 30 miles north of the isthmus, when Commander Ross succeeded in surveying 50 miles more of the coast leading to the north-west, and by tracing the shore to the northward of our position, it was also fully proved that there could be no passage below the 71st degree.

This autumn we succeeded in getting the vessel only 14 miles to the northward, as we had not doubled the Eastern Cape, all hope of saving the ship was at an end, and put quite beyond possibility by another very severe winter; and having only provisions to last us to the 1st of June, 1833, dispositions were accordingly made to leave the ship in present port, which (after her) was named Victory Harbor. Provisions and fuel being carried forward in the spring, we left the ship on the 28th of May, 1832, for Fury Beach, being the only chance left for saving our lives; owing to the very rugged nature of the ice, we were obliged to keep either upon or close to the land, making the circuit of every bay, thus increasing our distance of 200 miles by nearly one half; and it was not until the 1st of July that we reached the beach, completely exhausted by hunger and fatigue.

A hut was speedily constructed, and the boats three of which had been washed off the beach, but providentially driven on shore again, were repaired during this month; and the unusual heavy appearance of the ice afforded us no cheering prospect until the 1st of August, when in three boats we reached the ill-fated spot where the Fury was first driven on shore, and it was not until the 1st of September we reached Leopold South Island, now established to be the N. E. point of America in latitude 73 56, and longitude 90 west. From the summit of the lofty mountain on the promontory we could see Prince Regent's Inlet, Barrow's Strait and Lancaster Sound, which presented one impenetrable mass of ice, just as I had seen it in 1818. Here we remained in a state of anxiety and suspense, which may be easier imagined than described. All our attempts to push through were vain; at length being forced by want of provisions and the approach of a very severe winter, to return to Fury Beach, where alone there remained wherewith to support life, there we arrived on the 7th of October, after a most fatiguing and laborious march, having been obliged to leave our boats at Batty Bay. Our habitation, which consisted of a frame of spars, 32 feet by 16, covered with canvas, was, during the month of November enclosed, and the roof covered with snow, from 4 to 7 feet thick, which being saturated with water when the temperature was fifteen degrees below zero, immediately took the consistency of ice, and thus we actually became the inhabitants of an iceberg during one of the most severe winters hitherto recorded; our sufferings aggravated by want of bedding, clothing and animal food, need not be dwelt upon. Mr. C. Thomas, the carpenter, was the only man who perished at this beach, but three others, besides one who had lost his foot, were reduced to the last stage of debility, and only thirteen of our number were able to carry provisions in seven journies of 62 miles each to Batty Bay.

We left Fury Beach on the 8th of July, carrying with us three sick men, who were unable to walk, and in six days we reached the boats, where the sick daily recovered. Although the spring was mild, it was not until the 15th of August that we had any cheering prospect. A gale from the westward having suddenly opened a lane of water along shore, in two days we reached our former position, and from the mountain we had the satisfaction of seeing clear water across Prince Regent's Inlet, which we crossed on the 17th, and took shelter from a storm twelve miles to the eastward of Cape York. The next day, when the gale abated we crossed Admiralty Inlet, and were detained six days on the coast by a strong N. E. wind. On the 25th we crossed Navy Board Inlet, and on the following morning, to our inexpressible joy, we descried a ship in the offing, becalmed, which proved to be the Isabella of Hull, the same ship which I commanded in 1818. At noon we reached her, when her enterprising commander, who had in vain searched for us in Prince Regent's Inlet, after giving us three cheers, received us with every demonstration of kindness and hospitality, which humanity could dictate. I ought to mention also that Mr. Humphreys, by landing me at Possession Bay, and subsequently on the west coast of Baffin's Bay, afforded me an excellent opportunity of concluding my survey, and of verifying my former chart of that coast.