On December 24, 1778, Capt. Magee ſailed from Boſton: We had been at ſea but a few hours, when a moſt terrible gale of wind aroſe, ſo that the water was almoſt knee deep on the leeward ſide of the quarter-deck. We continued in the Bay that day and the night following, but on the next day we got into Plymouth. The wind was abated, but the cold was ſevere and intenſe beyond deſcription. We came to anchor a little below Beach-Point, in the Harbour of Plymouth.
On Saturday, December 26, about 6 o’clock in the morning, from the violent motion of the ſea, the brig ſtruck the bottom as tho’ it would drive her keel in. As there was not depth of water enough to work the veſſel in the place where we lay, and we ſaw a heavy ſtorm coming on, our Commander thought it beſt to cut our cables and let her drive, which was immediately done. The ſtorm increaſed very faſt, ſo that we were obliged to cut away the main-maſt, and we drifted upon an hard flat a little to the weſtward of Beach-Point.
This was early on Saturday morning, and we now laboured hard in throwing over our wood and getting our guns off the decks into the hold, but the veſſel began to leak very faſt, and with every motion of the ſea ſhe ſtruck the bottom as tho’ ſhe would ſplit in pieces. We kept 2 pumps going, but could not gain upon the water. The ſtorm now increaſed to a moſt prodigious degree: It ſnowed ſo thick that we could ſee but a very little way from the brig, and the cold was extreme; we continued hard at work all day without eating or drinking any thing ſcarcely, having but little appetite with the proſpect of death continually before our eyes.
Until now we had hopes of eſcape, but juſt before night we looked into the hold and ſaw the caſks floating about; this drove us to deſpair, and we forſook the pumps without a ray of hope but from the immediate interpoſition of divine Providence. Many of the people now began to pray, and I went into the cabbin and ſat upon one of the gun-carriages. I had not been there long before I ſaw cheſts floating about, and perceived that the tide was flowing on us very faſt; by direction of the Capt. all left the
cabbin and came upon the quarter-deck.
It is not poſſible to deſcribe my ſenſations at this period; death appeared inevitable, and we waited every moment for its approach! Even now, when I recollect my feelings it is difficult to ſteady my pen! And indeed I had ground enough for my apprehenſions, for we had not been long upon the quarter-deck before the water upon the main-deck was even with it. Our fore-maſt was ſtill ſtanding, which cauſed the veſſel to roll very much, but when we had cut that away ſhe lay ſtiller. The brig now lay ſunk; the tide was flowing faſt and the ſea broke very heavily over us. We were all upon the quarter-deck, and the water came in upon us ancle deep.
There was a ſail in the netting upon the windward-quarter, which we contrived to laſh over us, but there were ſo many under it that we ſhould have been ſtifled for want of breath, if we had not cut places to let in the air. The tide was then about at its height but the ſtorm did not abate. There was nothing to be heard around but ſcreeches, groans and deep lamentations for themſelves and their families, and earneſt cries to GOD for mercy and relief!
There was ſuch a croud upon the quarter deck we could not ſtand up without treading upon one another. Being in a ſtruggle I was thrown down and trampled upon as if the breath would be crouded out of my body: However I ſoon recovered my feet and trampled upon others in my turn; for the immediate regard which every man had to his own life prevented him from attending to the diſtreſſes of his neighbours!
Struggling in this manner and trying to clear ourſelves from thoſe who fell down had pulled off moſt of our ſhoes, and the wet and cold ſoon froze our feet. Nature could ſuſtain it no longer and the people began to die all around me. Capt. John Ruſſell of Barnſtable was the firſt of thoſe with whom I was acquainted that died, but many others ſoon followed him. Fatigue and diſtreſs, added to the extreme cold and deſpair of relief, put a period to the lives of great numbers. Thoſe who were able to ſtand were obliged to huddle up cloſe together, and breathe in each other’s faces to preſerve them from freezing to death, while their comrades were dying around them all night. In the morning a moſt awful ſight preſented itſelf to us; 60 of our Comrades lay dead acroſs each other, and but 2 of my Townſmen were among the living!
On Lord’s-Day, Dec. 27, the ſtorm abated and the ſun appeared clear, but the ſevere cold ſtill continued. We ſaw Plymouth and a number of people coming along the ſhore for our relief: We could diſcern them puſh off two boats and make an hard trial to come to us, but the harbour was ſo full of ice they could not reach us: We ſaw them return and it gave us an inexpreſſible ſhock. The elevation which their appearance gave us tended to ſink us the lower. Our ſituation was very gloomy; we had little to ſupport nature except rum; no ſhoes on our feet, and very much frozen; the Heavens was our only covering!