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POST-CAPTAINS OF 1812.
the Impetueux and Goliah, that had by this then approached the ship, the captain and all the officers having declared their intention to remain on board till all the men were safely out. This was about 9 o’clock; the ship being then bilged against the rocks, the masts cut away, and the waves breaking over us at every roll. I now gave over all thoughts of saving myself, as, I believe, did every officer in the ship. As the boats approached, the attempt became more and more dangerous every time, the night still continuing very dark and foggy, with gusts of wind and drivelling sleet, that seemed to freshen every hour. In this forlorn and dismal state, the officers continued on the outside of the ship (for she was nearly on her beam ends), encouraging the men, and affording every possible assistance for their escape on board the boats, which exerted themselves on this occasion with great skill and intrepidity. The ship was now a mere wreck beating against the rocks, and with every wave expected to go to pieces; yet all this while we were so near the shore as to be able to converse with the people whom the report of our guns had at length brought down to the rocks. With some difficulty, we at last contrived to fling a line to them, which being made fast, some of the crew attempted to haul themselves ashore by it. The surf, however, broke so tremendously between us and the land, though I do not believe we were 20 yards from it, that all the poor fellows who made this attempt were either drowned or dashed to pieces. It was now past 5 a.m. (25 Nov.), the weather still getting worse, and all the crew out but a few drunken wretches who lay senseless on the deck, and about 17 noble souls who declared they would die with their officers; a dreadful sea was breaking over us, the fore part of the ship entirely under water, and the rest expected to go to pieces every minute; the wind still freshening, and being conscious that our remaining on board any longer could be of no possible use; it being moreover probable that the boats would not again be able to approach the ship, the officers now persuaded their good and still undaunted captain to think of saving his life, and with it their own, as they had resolved one and all to share his fate. After some time he consented, on condition that the officers should go first. This point being concluded, the hope of life, long dismissed from our minds, began to revive, when another difficulty arose, that seemed to cast it further back than ever, – which of the officers was to lead the way? The extinction of this reviving hope was indeed dreadful, and the pause had nearly been fatal to us all. At length, one of the junior lieutenants, long known to the crew, and as brave a man as ever trod the quarter-deck, agreed to lead, the rest solemnly promising to follow. One after another we now descended from over the stern (the only part of the ship above water), by single ropes, cold, benumbed, and wet through, and in this condition gained the boats, then in perilous attendance underneath. In this manner it was that we left the poor old Venerable, and, about 6 o’clock, reached the Impetueux, where, it is needless to say, we were treated with every attention and kindness that one ship’s officers could show to those of another in distress. When the morning broke, we per-
