For sailors are, in fact, a different kind:
At sunset they began to take in sail,
For the sky show'd it would come on to blow,
And carry away, perhaps, a mast or so.

XXVII.

At one o'clock the wind, with sudden shift,

Threw the ship right into the trough of the sea, Which struck her aft, and made an awkward rift, Started the stern-post, also shatter'd the Whole of her stern-frame, and, ere she could lift Herself from out her present jeopardy, The rudder tore away: 'twas time to sound The pumps, and there were four feet water found.(1)

XXVIII.

One gang of people instantly was put

Upon the pumps, and the remainder set
To get up part of the cargo, and what not;
But they could not come at the leak as yet;
At last they did get at it really, but

Still their salvation was an even bet:
The water rush'd through in a way quite puzzling,
While they thrust sheets, shirts, jackets, bales of
muslin,(2)

XXIX.

Into the opening; but all such ingredients
Would have been vain, and they must have gone
[down,
Despite of all their efforts and expedients,
But for the pumps: I'm glad to make them known
To all the brother tars who may have need hence,
For fifty tons of water were upthrown
By them per hour; and they had all been undone,
But for the maker, Mr. Mann, of London.(3)

XXX.

As day advanced the weather seem'd to abate,
And then the leak they reckon❜d to reduce,
And keep the ship afloat, though three feet yet
Kept two hand and one chain pump still in use.
The wind blew fresh again: as it grew late

A squall came on, and while some guns broke loose, A gust-which all descriptive power transcendsLaid with one blast the ship on her beam-ends.(4)

XXXI.

There she lay, motionless, and seem'd upset;
The water left the hold, and wash'd the decks,(5)

(1) "Night came on worse than the day had been; and a sudden shift of wind, about midnight, threw the ship into the trough of the sea, which struck her aft, tore away the rudder, started the stern-post, and shattered the whole of her stern-frame. The pumps were immediately sounded, and in the course of a few minutes the water had increased to four feet." Loss of the Hercules.-L. E.

(2) "One gang was instantly put on them, and the remainder of the people employed in getting up rice from the run of the ship, and heaving it over, to come at the leak, if possible. After three or four hundred bags were thrown into the sea, we did get at it, and found the water rushing into the ship with astonishing rapidity; therefore we thrust sheets, shirts, jackets, bales of muslin, and every thing of the like description that could be got, into the opening." Ibid.-L. E.

(3) "Notwithstanding the pumps discharged fifty tons of water an hour, the ship certainly must have gone down, had not our expedients been attended with some success. The pumps, to the excellent construction of which I owe the preservation of my life, were made by Mr. Mann of London." Ibid.-L. E.

And made a scene men do not soon forget;

For they remember battles, fires, and wrecks, Or any other thing that brings regret,

Or breaks their hopes, or hearts, or heads, or necks: Thus drownings are much talk'd of by the divers, And swimmers, who may chance to be survivors. XXXII.

Immediately the masts were cut away,

Both main and mizen; first the mizen went, The main-mast follow'd: but the ship still lay Like a mere log, and baffled our intent. Foremast and bowsprit were cut down, and they Eased her at last (although we never meant To part with all till every hope was blighted), And then with violence the old ship righted.(6)

XXXIII.

It may be easily supposed, while this

Was going on, some people were unquiet, That passengers would find it much amiss

To lose their lives, as well as spoil their diet; That even the able seaman, deeming his

Days nearly o'er, might be disposed to riot:
As upon such occasions tars will ask
For grog, and sometimes drink rum from the cast.
XXXIV.

There's nought, no doubt, so much the spirit calms
As rum and true religion: thus it was,
Some plunder'd, some drank spirits, some sung psalas,
The high wind made the treble, and as bass [quais
The hoarse harsh waves kept time; fright cured the
Of all the luckless landsmen's sea-sick maws:
Strange sounds of wailing, blasphemy, devotion,
Clamour'd in chorus to the roaring ocean.

XXXV.

Perhaps more mischief had been done, but for Our Juan, who, with sense beyond his years, Got to the spirit-room, and stood before

It with a pair of pistols; and their fears, As if Death were more dreadful by his door

Of fire than water, spite of oaths and tears, Kept still aloof the crew, who, ere they sunk, Thought it would be becoming to die drunk.(8)

XXXVI.

"Give us more grog," they cried, "for it will be All one an hour hence." Juan answer'd, “No!

(4) "As the next day advanced, the weather appeared moderate, the men continued incessantly at the pamps, every exertion was made to keep the ship afloat. Sc was this done, when a gust, exceeding in violence every ha of the kind I had ever seen, or could conceive, laid the g on her beam-ends." Loss of the Centaur.-L.E.

(5) "The ship lay motionless, and, to all appearance, de revocably overset. The water forsook the hold, and appeared between decks." Ibid.-L. E.

(6) "Immediate directions were given to cut away the main and mizen masts, trusting, when the ship righte☺ ☺ be able to wear her. On cutting one or two lanyards, dir mizen-mast went first over, but without producing the a est effect on the ship, and, on cutting the lanyard of shroud, the main-mast followed. I had the mortificator see the fore-mast and bowsprit also go over. On this, th ship immediately righted with great violence." Ibid-L (7) In the MS.

"Perhaps the whole would have got drunk, but for."-LE (8) "A midshipman was appointed to guard the spire

Tis true that death awaits both you and me,
But let us die like men, not sink below
Like brutes:"-and thus his dangerous post kept
And noue liked to anticipate the blow; [he, (1)
And even Pedrillo, his most reverend tutor,
Was for some rum a disappointed suitor.

XXXVII.

The good old gentleman was quite aghast,
And made a loud and pious lamentation;
Repented all his sins, and made a last
Irrevocable vow of reformation;

Nothing should tempt him more (this peril past)
To quit his academic occupation,

In cloisters of the classic Salamanca,

To follow Juan's wake, like Sancho Panca.

XXXVIII.

But now there came a flash of hope once more;
Day broke, and the wind lull'd: the masts were gone,
The leak increased; shoals round her, but no shore,
The vessel swam, yet still she held her own.
They tried the pumps again, and though before
Their desperate efforts seem'd all useless grown,
A glimpse of sunshine set some hands to bale-
The stronger pump'd, the weaker thrumm'd a sail.(2)

XXXIX.

Under the vessel's keel the sail was pass'd,
And for the moment it had some effect; (3)
But with a leak, and not a stick of mast,

Nor rag of canvass, what could they expect? But still 'tis best to struggle to the last,

Tis never too late to be wholly wreck'd: And though 'tis true that man can only die once, Tis not so pleasant in the Gulf of Lyons. (4)

XL.

There winds and waves had hurl'd them, and from thence,

Without their will, they carried them away;

room, to repress that unhappy desire of a devoted crew to die in a state of intoxication. The sailors, though in other respects orderly in conduct, here pressed eagerly upon him." Loss of the Abergavenny.—L. E.

(1) Give us some grog,' they exclaimed, ‘it will be all One an hour hence. I know we must die,' replied the gallant officer, coolly, but let us die like men!'-Armed with a brace of pistols, he kept his post, even while the ship was sinking." Ibid.-L. E.

"Tis ugly dying in the Gulf of Lyons."-L. E.

(3) "The ship laboured so much, that I could scarce hope ould swim till morning: our sufferings were very great for want of water." Loss of the Abergavenny.-L. E.

(B) The weather again threatened, and by noon it blew a storm. The ship laboured greatly; the water appeared in the fore and after hold. The leathers were nearly consumed, and the chains of the pumps, by constant exertion, and the friction of the coils, were rendered almost useless." Ibid. -L.E.

(7) "At length, the carpenter came up from below, and told the crew, who were working at the pumps, he could do

no more for them. Seeing their efforts useless, many of them burst into tears, and wept like children." Ibid.-L. E.

(8) "I perceived the ship settling by the head. It was not in my power to encourage the ship's company any longer with a prospect of safety." Ibid.-L. E.

(9) The following extract is taken from Lord Byron's own copy of Erasmus's Dialogues. The delightful colloquy entitled Naufragium' must, as it is obvious from his Lordship's pencil-marks, have been much in his hands:

"Aderat Anglus quidam, qui promittebat montes aureos Virgini Walsamgamicæ, si vivus attigisset terram : alii multa promittebant ligno crucis, quod esset in tali loco. Unum, audivi, non sine risu, qui clarâ voce, ne non exaudiretur, polliceretur Christophoro, qui est Lutetiæ in summo templo, mons verius quam statua, cereum tantum quantus esset ipse. Hæc cum vociferans quantum poterat identidem inculcaret, qui forte proximus assistebat illi notus, cubito illum tetigit, ac submonuit: Vide quid pollicearis: etiamsi rerum omnium tuarum auctionem facias, non fueris solvendo. Tum ille, voce jam pressiore, ne videlicet exaudiret Christophorus: Tace, inquit, fatue! An credis me ex animo loqui ? Si semel contigero terram, non daturus sum illi candelam sebaceam!" *—L. E.

"There was there a certain Englishman, who promised golden mountains to Our Lady of Walsingham, if he touched land again. Others promised many things to the Wood of the Cross, which was in such a place. I heard one, not without laughter, who, with a clear voice, lest he should not be heard, promised Christopher, who is at Paris, on the top of a Church,-a mountain more truly than a statue, a wax candle as big as he was himself. When, bawling out

To pay them with; and some look'd o'er the bow;
Some hoisted out the boats; and there was one
That begg'd Pedrillo for an absolution,
Who told him to be damn'd-in his confusion.(1)

XLV.

Some lash'd them in their hammocks; some put on
Their best clothes, as if going to a fair;
Some cursed the day on which they saw the sun,
And gnash'd their teeth, and, howling, tore their hair;
And others went on as they had begun,

Getting the boats out, being well aware
That a tight boat will live in a rough sea,
Unless with breakers close beneath her lee.(2)

XLVI.

The worst of all was, that in their condition, Having been several days in great distress, "Twas difficult to get out such provision

As now might render their long suffering less: Men, even when dying, dislike inanition; (3)

Their stock was damaged by the weather's stress: Two casks of biscuit, and a keg of butter, Were all that could be thrown into the cutter.

XLVII.

But in the long-boat they contrived to stow
Some pounds of bread, though injured by the wet;
Water, a twenty-gallon cask or so;

Six flasks of wine; and they contrived to get
A portion of their beef up from below,(4)

And with a piece of pork, moreover, met,
But scarce enough to serve them for a luncheon—
Then there was rum, eight gallons in a puncheon.

XLVIII.

The other boats, the yawl and pinnace, had Been stove in the beginning of the gale; (5) And the long-boat's condition was but bad,

As there were but two blankets for a sail,(6)

(1) "You cannot imagine," says Cardinal de Retz, (who narrowly escaped shipwreck in the Gulf of Lyons)-"you cannot imagine the horror of a great storm: you can as little imagine the ridicule of it. Every body were at their prayers, or were confessing themselves. The private captain of the galley caused, in the greatest height of the danger, his embroidered coat and his red scarf to be brought to him, saying, that a true Spaniard ought to die bearing his king's marks of distinction. He sat himself down in his great elbow-chair, and with his foot struck a poor Neapolitan in the chops, who, not being able to stand, was crawling along, crying out aloud, Senhor Don Fernando, por l'amor de Dios, confession.' The captain, when he struck him, said to him, 'Inimigo de Dios piedes confession!' and on my representing to him, that his interference was not right, he said that that old man gave offence to the whole galley. A Sicilian Observantine monk was preaching at the foot of the great mast, that St. Francis had appeared to him, and had assured him that we should not perish. I should never have done, were I to describe all the ridiculous sights that are seen on these occasions." The prophecy of the monk was a safe one, in a double sense; for, if it had failed, there would have been no one to contradict it.-L. E.

(2) "Some appeared perfectly resigned, went to their hammocks, and desired their messmates to lash them in; others were for securing themselves to gratings and small rafts; but

as hard as he could, the man reiterated this offer, an acquaintance that by chance stood next, known to him, touched him with his elbow, and said- Have a care what you promise; though you make an auction of all your goods, you'll not be able to pay.' Then he says, with a voice now lower, to wit, lest Christopher should hear, Hold your tongue, you fool; do you think I speak from my heart? If once I touch land, I'll not give him a tallow candle.""-Clarke's

Translation.

And one oar for a mast, which a young lad

Threw in, by good luck, over the ship's rail; And two boats could not hold, far less be stored, To save one half the people then on board. XLIX.

'Twas twilight, and the sunless day went down
Over the waste of waters; like a veil,
Which, if withdrawn, would but disclose the frown
Of one whose hate is mask'd but to assail,(7)
Thus to their hopeless eyes the night was shown,
And grimly darkled o'er the faces pale,
And the dim desolate deep: twelve days had Fear
Been their familiar, and now Death was here.
L.

Some trial had been making at a raft,

With little hope in such a rolling sea,

A sort of thing at which one would have laugh'd, 8
If any laughter at such times could be,
Unless with people who too much have quaff'd,
And have a kind of wild and horrid glee,
Half epileptical, and half hysterical:-
Their preservation would have been a miracle.

LI.

At half-past eight o'clock, booms, hencoops, spars, And all things, for a chance, had been cast loose, That still could keep afloat the struggling tars,(9)

For yet they strove, although of no great use: There was no light in heaven but a few stars,

The boats put off o'ercrowded with their crews; She gave a heel, and then a lurch to port, And, going down head foremost-sunk, in short. 10

LII.

Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell

Then shriek'd the timid, and stood still the brave,Then some leap'd overboard with dreadful yell,(11 As eager to anticipate their grave;

the most predominant idea was that of putting on their est and cleanest clothes. The boats were got over the side. Loss of the Abergavenny.-L. E. (3) In the MS.

"Men will prove hungry, even when next perdition."-L E (4) "Eight bags of rice, six flasks of wine, and a s quantity of salted beef and pork, were put into the longas provisions for the whole." Wreck of the Sydney.—LE

(5) "The yawl was stove alongside and sunk." Ceniant

-L. E.

(6) "One oar was erected for a main-mast, and the oth bent to the breadth of the blankets for a sail" Loss of i Wellington Transport.-L. E. (7) In the MS.

"Which being withdrawn, discloses but the frown

Of one who hates us, so the night was shown," etc.-L.I (8) "As rafts had been mentioned by the carpenter. thought it right to make the attempt. It was impossible for any man to deceive himself with the hopes of being saved a raft in such a sea as this." Centaur.-L. E.

(9) "Spars, booms, hencoops, and every thing buoya were therefore cast loose, that the men might have s chance to save themselves; for the boats were at some d tance." Loss of the Pandora.-L.E.

(10) "We had scarcely quitted the ship, when she gave heavy lurch to port, and then went down, head fores Lady Hobart.—L. E.

(II) "At this instant, one of the officers told the captai she was going down, and, bidding him farewell, leapt ov board: the crew had just time to leap overboard, wh they did, uttering a most dreadful yell. Pandora.-L.E.

And the sea yawn'd around her like a hell,

And down she suck'd with her the whirling wave, Like one who grapples with his enemy, And strives to strangle him before he die.

LIII.

And first one universal shriek there rush'd,
Louder than the loud ocean, like a crash
Of echoing thunder; and then all was hush'd,
Save the wild wind and the remorseless dash
Of billows; but at intervals there gush'd,
Accompanied with a convulsive splash,
A solitary shriek, the bubbling cry

Of some strong swimmer in his agony. (1)
LIV.

The boats, as stated, had got off before,

And in them crowded several of the crew; And yet their present hope was hardly more

Than what it had been, for so strong it blew There was slight chance of reaching any shore; And then they were too many, though so few— Nine in the cutter, thirty in the boat, Were counted in them when they got afloat.

LV.

All the rest perish'd; near two hundred souls
Had left their bodies; and what's worse, alas!
When over Catholics the ocean rolls,

They must wait several weeks before a mass Takes off one peck of purgatorial coals,

Because, till people know what's come to pass, They won't lay out their money on the deadIt costs three francs for every mass that's said.

LVI.

Juan got into the long-boat, and there

Contrived to help Pedrillo to a place; It seem'd as if they had exchanged their care, For Juan wore the magisterial face Which courage gives, while poor Pedrillo's pair Of eyes were crying for their owner's case: Battista, though (a name call'd shortly Tita), Was lost by getting at some aqua-vita.

LVII.

Pedro, his valet, too, he tried to save,

But the same cause, conducive to his loss, Left him so drunk, he jump'd into the wave

As o'er the cutter's edge he tried to cross, And so he found a wine-and-watery grave;

They could not rescue him although so close, Because the sea ran higher every minute, And for the boat-the crew kept crowding in it.

(I) "It is an awful moment when a ship takes her last heel, just before going down. When the 'Pandora' sunk, the surgeon says, the crew had just time to leap overboard, accompanying it with a most dreadful yell. The cries of the men drowning in the water were at first awful in the extreme; but as they sunk and became faint, they died away by degrees!' How ACURATELY HAS BYRON DESCRIBED THE WHOLE PROGRESS OF A SHIPWRECK, to the final catastrophe!" BARROW's History of the Bounty.-L. E.

(2) The boat, being fastened to the rigging, was no sooner cleared of the greatest part of the water, than a dog of mine came to me running along the gunwale. I took him in." Shipwreck of the Betsey.-L. E.

(3) It blew a violent storm, so that between the seas the sail was becalmed; and when on the top of the wave, it was

LVIII.

A small old spaniel,-which had been Don José's, His father's, whom he loved, as ye may think, For on such things the memory reposes

With tenderness,-stood howling on the brink, Knowing, (dogs have such intellectual noses!)

No doubt, the vessel was about to sink;
And Juan caught him up, and, ere he stepp'd
Off, threw him in, then after him he leap'd. (2)
LIX.

He also stuff'd his money where he could
About his person, and Pedrillo's too,
Who let him do, in fact, whate'er he would,
Not knowing what himself to say or do,
As every rising wave his dread renew'd;

But Juan, trusting they might still get through, And deeming there were remedies for any ill, Thus re-embark'd his tutor and his spaniel.

LX.

'Twas a rough night, and blew so stiffly yet,

That the sail was becalm'd between the seas, Though on the wave's high top too much to set,

They dared not take it in for all the breeze : Each sea curl'd o'er the stern, and kept them wet, And made them bale without a moment's ease,(3) So that themselves as well as hopes were damp'd, And the poor little cutter quickly swamp'd.

LXI.

Nine souls more went in her: the long-boat still
Kept above water, with an oar for mast;
Two blankets stitch'd together, answering ill
Instead of sail, were to the oar made fast:
Though every wave roll'd menacing to fill,

And present peril all before surpass'd, (4)
They grieved for those who perish'd with the cutter,
And also for the biscuit-casks and butter.

LXII.

The sun rose red and fiery, a sure sign
Of the continuance of the gale: to run
Before the sea until it should grow fine,
Was all that for the present could be done:
A few tea-spoonfuls of their rum and wine

Were served out to the people, who begun (5)
To faint, and damaged bread wet through the bags,
And most of them had little clothes but rags.

LXIII.

They counted thirty, crowded in a space

Which left scarce room for motion or exertion;

too much to be set, but we could not venture to take it in, for we were in very imminent danger and distress; the sea curling over the stern of the boat, which obliged us to bale with all our might."-Bligh's Open Boat Navigation. See Barrow's Eventful History, p. 99.-L. E.

(4) "Before it was dark, a blanket was discovered in the boat. This was immediately bent to one of the stretchers, and under it, as a sail, we scudded all night, in expectation of being swallowed by every wave." Centaur.-L. E.

(5) "The sun rose red and fiery, a sure indication of a severe gale of wind. We could do nothing more than run before the sea.-I served a tea-spoonful of rum to every person. The bread, we found, was damaged and rotten." Bligh. -L. E.