the hatchway by the immense volume of water incessantly pouring down. The ship still beating the ground very heavy, made it necessary to cling fast to some part of the wreck, to prevent being washed by the surges, or hurled by the dreadful concussions overboard, the people holding fast by the larboard bulwark of the quarter-deck, and in the main-channel, while our good Captain (John William Taylor Dixon) stood naked upon the cabin skylight-grating, holding fast by the stump of the mizen-mast, and making use of every soothing expression which could have been suggested to encourage men in such a perilous situation. Most of the officers and men were entirely naked, not having had time to slip on even a pair of trowsers. Our horrible situation every moment became more dreadful, until day-light appearing, about half-past 4 o’clock, discovered to us the land, at two cables distance, a long sandy beach, reaching to cape Mondego, three leagues to the southward of us. We afterwards perceived between 20 and 30 sail of the convoy ashore, both to the northward and southward, and several of them perfect wrecks. We were now certain of being on the coast of Portugal, from seeing the above cape, though, I am sorry to say, no person in the ship had the least idea of being so near that coast. It blowing hard, and a very great swell of the sea, or what is generally termed waves running mountains high, there was little prospect of being saved. About 8 A.M. there being every likelihood of the ship going to pieces, and the after part of her lying lowest. Captain Dixon ordered every person forward, which it was very difficult to comply with, from the motion of the main-mast working on the larboard gunwale, there being no other way to remove ourselves. Mr. Cook, the boatswain, had his thigh broke in endeavouring to get a boat over the side. Of six fine boats not one was saved, they being all stove, and washed overboard with the booms, &c. Soon after the people got forward the ship parted at the gangways. The crew were now obliged to stow themselves in the fore-channels, and from thence to the bowsprit-end, to the number of 220; for out of 240 persons on board when the ship first struck, I suppose 20 to have previously perished between decks and otherwise. Mr. Lawton, the gunner, the first person who attempted to swim ashore, was drowned: afterwards Lieutenant Wilson, Mr. Runcie, surgeon, Mr. M‘Cabe, surgeon’s-mate, Mr. Standley, master’s-mate, and several men shared the same fate, though excellent swimmers. About thirty persons had the good fortune to reach the shore, upon planks and spars, among whom were Lieutenant Harvey, and Mr. Callam, master’s-mate. In the ensuing night our situation was truly horrid, the old men and boys dying through hunger and fatigue – also Messrs. Proby and Hayes, midshipmen. Captain Dixon remained all this night upon the bowsprit.
“Tuesday morning, April 3, presented us no better prospect of being relieved from the jaws of death, the wind blowing stronger and the sea much more turbulent. About noon, however, our drooping spirits were