it, which were carried by the wind as far aft as the quarter-

deck, and not infrequently over the stern of the ship
altogether. It fell occasionally so heavily on the skylight

of the writer's cabin, though so far aft as to be within five
feet of the helm, that the glass was broken to pieces before

the dead-light could be got into its place, so that the water
poured down in great quantities. In shutting out the water,

the admission of light was prevented, and in the morning all
continued in the most comfortless state of darkness. About

ten o'clock a.m. the wind shifted to N.E., and blew, if
possible, harder than before, and it was accompanied by a much

heavier swell of sea. In the course of the gale, the part of
the cable in the hause-hole had been so often shifted that

nearly the whole length of one of her hempen cables, of 120
fathoms, had been veered out, besides the chain-moorings. The

cable, for its preservation, was also carefully served or
wattled with pieces of canvas round the windlass, and with

leather well greased in the hause-hole. In this state things
remained during the whole day, every sea which struck the

vessel - and the seas followed each other in close succession
- causing her to shake, and all on board occasionally to

tremble. At each of these strokes of the sea the rolling and
pitching of the vessel ceased for a time, and her motion was

felt as if she had either broke adrift before the wind or were
in the act of sinking; but, when another sea came, she ranged

up against it with great force, and this became the regular
intimation of our being still riding at anchor.

About eleven o'clock, the writer with some difficulty got
out of bed, but, in attempting to dress, he was thrown twice

upon the floor at the opposite end of the cabin. In an
undressed state he made shift to get about half-way up the

companion-stairs, with an intention to observe the state of
the sea and of the ship upon deck; but he no sooner looked

over the companion than a heavy sea struck the vessel, which
fell on the quarter-deck, and rushed downstairs in the

officers' cabin in so considerable a quantity that it was
found necessary to lift one of the scuttles in the floor, to

let the water into the limbers of the ship, as it dashed from
side to side in such a manner as to run into the lower tier of

beds. Having been foiled in this attempt, and being
completely wetted, he again got below and went to bed. In

this state of the weather the seamen had to move about the
necessary or indispensable duties of the ship with the most

cautious use both of hands and feet, while it required all the
art of the landsman to keep within the precincts of his bed.

The writer even found himself so much tossed about that it
became necessary, in some measure, to shut himself in bed, in

order to avoid being thrown upon the floor. Indeed, such was
the motion of the ship that it seemed whollyimpracticable to

remain in any other than a lying posture. On deck the most
stormy aspect presented itself, while below all was wet and

comfortless.
About two o'clock p.m. a great alarm was given

throughout the ship from the effects of a very heavy sea which
struck her, and almost filled the waist, pouring down into the

berths below, through every chink and crevice of the hatches
and skylights. From the motion of the vessel being thus

suddenly deadened or checked, and from the flowing in of the
water above, it is believed there was not an individual on

board who did not think, at the moment, that the vessel had
foundered, and was in the act of sinking. The writer could

withstand this no longer, and as soon as she again began to
range to the sea he determined to make another effort to get

upon deck. In the first instance, however, he groped his way
in darkness from his own cabin through the berths of the

officers, where all was quietness. He next entered the galley
and other compartments occupied by the artificers. Here also

all was shut up in darkness, the fire having been drowned out
in the early part of the gale. Several of the artificers were

employed in prayer, repeating psalms and other devotional
exercises in a full tone of voice; others protesting that, if

they should fortunately get once more on shore, no one should
ever see them afloat again. With the assistance of the

landing-master, the writer made his way, holding on step by
step, among the numerous impediments which lay in the way.

Such was the creaking noise of the bulk-heads or partitions,
the dashing of the water, and the whistling noise of the

winds, that it was hardly possible to break in upon such a
confusion of sounds. In one or two instances, anxious and

repeated inquiries were made by the artificers as to the state
of things upon deck, to which the captain made the usual

answer, that it could not blow long in this way, and that we
must soon have better weather. The next berth in succession,

moving forward in the ship, was that allotted for the seamen.
Here the scene was considerably different. Having reached the

middle of this darksome berth without its inmates being aware
of any intrusion, the writer had the consolation of remarking

that, although they talked of bad weather and the cross
accidents of the sea, yet the conversation was carried on in

that sort of tone and manner which bespoke an ease and
composure of mind highly creditable to them and pleasing to

him. The writer immediately accosted the seamen about the
state of the ship. To these inquiries they replied that the

vessel being light, and having but little hold of the water,
no top-rigging, with excellent ground-tackle, and everything

being fresh and new, they felt perfect confidence in their
situation.

It being impossible to open any of the hatches in the
fore part of the ship in communicating with the deck, the

watch was changed by passing through the several berths to the
companion-stair leading to the quarter-deck. The writer,

therefore, made the best of his way aft, and, on a second
attempt to look out, he succeeded, and saw indeed an

astonishing sight. The sea or waves appeared to be ten or
fifteen feet in height of unbroken water, and every

approaching billow seemed as if it would overwhelm our vessel,
but she continued to rise upon the waves and to fall between

the seas in a very wonderful manner. It seemed to be only
those seas which caught her in the act of rising which struck

her with so much violence and threw such quantities of water
aft. On deck there was only one solitary individual looking

out, to give the alarm in the event of the ship breaking from
her moorings. The seaman on watch continued only two hours;

he who kept watch at this time was a tall, slender man of a
black complexion; he had no greatcoat nor over-all of any

kind, but was simply dressed in his ordinary jacket and
trousers; his hat was tied under his chin with a napkin, and

he stood aft the foremast, to which he had lashed himself with
a gasket or small rope round his waist, to prevent his falling

upon deck or being washed overboard. When the writer looked
up, he appeared to smile, which afforded a further symptom of

the confidence of the crew in their ship. This person on
watch was as completely wetted as if he had been drawn through

the sea, which was given as a reason for his not putting on a
greatcoat, that he might wet as few of his clothes as

possible, and have a dry shift when he went below. Upon deck
everything that was movable was out of sight, having either

been stowed below, previous to the gale, or been washed