Chapter XII: Part 12

The first person known to have observed any thing was a young midshipman in the Cambridge guard-ship, lying not far distant from the place where the Amphion blew up; who having a great desire to observe every thing relative to a profession into which he had just entered, was looking through a glass at the frigate, as she lay along side of the sheer-hulk, and was taking in her bowsprit. She was lashed to the hulk; and the Yarmouth, an old receiving ship, was lying on the opposite side, quite close to her, and both within a few yards of the Dock-yard jetty. The midshipman said, that the Amphion suddenly appeared to rise altogether upright from the surface of the water, until he nearly saw her keel; the explosion then succeeded; the masts seemed to be forced up into the air, and the hull instantly to sink. All this passed in the space of two minutes.

The man who stood at the Dock-yard stairs, said, that the first he heard of it was a kind of hissing noise, and then followed the explosion, when he beheld the masts blown up into the air. It was very strongly reported that several windows were broken in the Dock by the explosion, and that in the Dock-yard much mischief was done by the Amphion's guns going off when she blew up; but though the shock was felt as far off as Plymouth, and at Stone-house, enough to shake the windows, yet it is a wonderful and miraculous fact, that surrounded as she was in the harbor, with ships close along side of the jetty, and lashed to another vessel, no damage was done to any thing but herself. It is dreadful to reflect, that owing to their intention of putting to sea the next day, there were nearly one hundred men, women and children, more than her complement on board, taking leave of their friends, besides the company who were at two dinners given in the ship, one of which was by the captain.

Captain Israel Pellow, and Captain William Swaffield, of his Majesty's ship Overyssel, who was at dinner with him and the first lieutenant, were drinking their wine; when the first explosion threw them off their seats, and struck them against the carlings of the upper deck, so as to stun them. Captain Pellow, however, had sufficient presence of mind to fly to the cabin windows, and seeing the two hawsers, one slack in the bit and the other taut, threw himself with an amazing leap, which he afterwards said, nothing but his sense of danger could have enabled him to take, upon the latter, and by that means saved himself from the general destruction, though his face had been badly cut against the carlings, when he was thrown from his seat. The first lieutenant saved himself in the same manner, by jumping out of the window, and by being also a remarkable good swimmer; but Captain Swaffield, being, as it was supposed, more stunned, did not escape.--His body was found on the twenty-second of October, with his skull fractured, appearing to have been crushed between the sides of two vessels.

The centinel at the cabin door happened to be looking at his watch; how he escaped no one can tell, not even himself. He was, however, brought on shore, and but little hurt; the first thing he felt was, that his watch was dashed out of his hands, after which he was no longer sensible of what happened to him. The boatswain was standing on the cat-head, the bowsprit had been stepped for three hours; the gammoning and every thing on; and he was directing the men in rigging out the jib-boom, when suddenly he felt himself driven upwards and fell into the sea. He then perceived that he was entangled in the rigging, and had some trouble to get clear, when being taken up by a boat belonging to one of the men of war, they found that his arm was broken. One of the surviving seamen declared to an officer of rank, that he was preserved in the following truly astonishing manner:--He was below at the time the Amphion blew up, and went to the bottom of the ship, he recollected that he had a knife in his pocket, and taking it out, cut his way through the companion of the gun-room, which was already shattered with the explosion; then letting himself up to the surface of the water, he swam unhurt to the shore. He shewed his knife to the officer, and declared he had been under water full five minutes.

It was likewise said, that one of the sailors' wives had a young child in her arms; the fright of the shock made her take such fast hold of it, that though the upper part of her body alone remained, the child was found alive locked fast in her arms, and likely to do well.

Mr. Spry, an auctioneer, who had long lived in great respectability at Dock, with his son and god-son, had gone on board to visit a friend, and were all lost.

About half an hour before the frigate blew up, one of her lieutenants, and Lieutenant Campbell of the marines and some of the men got into the boat at the dock-yard stairs, and went off to the ship. Lieutenant Campbell had some business to transact at the Marine barracks in the morning, and continuing there some time, was engaged by the officers to stay to dinner and spend the evening with them. Some persons, however, who had, in the interval, come from the Amphion, informed Lieutenant Campbell that there were some letters on board for him. As they were some which he was extremely anxious to receive, he left the barracks about half an hour before dinner to fetch them, intending to return immediately; but while he was on board the ship blew up.--He was a young man universally respected end lamented by the corps, as well as by all who knew him. One of the lieutenants who lost his life was the only support of an aged mother and sister, who, at his death, had neither friend nor relation left to comfort and protect them. The number of people who were afterwards daily seen at Dock, in deep mourning for their lost relatives, was truly melancholy.

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.