ESCAPE FROM SHIPWRECK.

From “Life on the ocean.”

Received orders this day to proceed to London with the ship; and, as the easterly gale abated, and the wind hauled round southward and westward, we got under way, stood out of Falmouth harbor, and proceeded up the British Channel.  At sunset, it commenced to rain, and the weather was thick and cloudy.  The different lights were seen as far as the Bill of Portland.  At midnight, lost sight of the land, and it blew a gale from off the French coast:  close reefed the topsails, and steered a course so as to keep in mid-channel.  At daybreak, the ship was judged to be off Beachy Head; the weather being so thick, the land could not be seen.  The fore and mizzen-topsails were now furled, and the ship hove to.  The rain began now to fall in torrents, and the heavy, dense, black clouds rose, with fearful rapidity, from the northward, over the English coast, when suddenly the wind shifted from the south-west to the north, and blew a hurricane.  The mist and fog cleared away, and, to our utter astonishment, we found ourselves on a lee shore, on the coast of France, off Boulogne heights.  The gale was so violent, that no more sail could be made.  The ship was so exceedingly crank, that when she luffed up on a wind, her bulwarks were under water.  As she would not stay, the only alternative was, to wear; of course, with this evolution, we lost ground, and, consequently, were driven nearer, every moment, toward the awful strand of rocks.  The scene was now terrific; many vessels were in sight, two of which we saw dashed on the rocks; with the tremendous roar of the breakers, and the howling of the tempest, and the heavy sea, which broke as high as the fore-yard, death appeared inevitable.  There was only one hope left, and that was, that, should the tide change and take us under our lee-beam, it might possibly set us off on the Nine-fathom bank, which is situated at a distance of twelve miles north-northwest, off Boulogne harbor.  On the event of reaching this bank, the safety of the ship and lives of the crew depended,—­as it was determined there to try the anchors, for there was no possibility of keeping off shore more than two hours, if the gale continued.

We were now on the larboard tack, and, for the last half hour, it was perceived that the tide had turned, and was setting to the northward; this was our last and only chance, for the rocks were not more than half a mile under our lee, and as it was necessary to get the ship’s head round on the starboard tack, which could only be done by wearing, it was certain that much ground would be lost by that evolution.  The anchors were got ready, long ranges of cables were hauled on deck, and the ends were clinched to the mainmast below; this being done, the axes were at hand to cut away the masts.

[Illustration:  Before the gale.]