"While to the helm unfaithful still she lies."
The masts now became dreadfully shattered from the intensity of the storm. Dangers and difficulties so increased, that all hopes of safety seemed nearly at an end. Upon Providence, nevertheless, still the hapless crew devoutly placed their trust; the Captain, from the very perilous situation in which they were placed, was compelled to try one desperate remedy, namely, to cut away the shrouds, and stay, and with all possible expedition to hew down the mizen-mast. During this awful operation the crew did not conduct them-selves like men without hope, although around them all was danger and despair! They felt, however, fully aware that little less than a miracle could extricate them from the horrors which surrounded them. With instant promptitude having obeyed and executed the orders of their Captain, with bold and skilful celerity they soon lightened the vessel, which bounded with desperate rapidity into the vast and boundless German Ocean: the watery world was now all before them, and Providence their guide!
Once more it was day. Nothing however, worthy of being recorded, occurred at that period, nor during the night.
On the fourth morning a watery sun arose in a hazy sky, they now were close in view of the coast of Austrian-Flanders, with such rapidity, had wind, and tide, and currents impelled them onward. They now proceeded at the surprising rate of twelve knots an hour, the wind and tide conjointly impelling, unassisted by any sail!
On the disastrous afternoon of this day the vessel made a desperate plunge, striking upon a cluster of rocks some leagues distant from land; the shock was so violent that nearly it had split the stern of the gallant ship. Overcome by terror and fatigue, depressed by despair, and more like the dead than the living, they remained awfully wedged in between these dreadful rocks. Eventually, after an interval of suspense and horror, which appeared to all as though it would never end, the force and ascendant power of the buoyant billows heaved the vessel completely over these formidable crags. She was now once more afloat, but her rudder was borne away; and onward she was drifted at the sport and will of the fiercely rolling waves.
Thus rapid was the vessel whirled, the mounting waves every moment dashing in torrents athwart the deck. Again a second shock was encountered. It was then all despair, desperation, madness! But, oh how appalling to every feeling heart was the dreadful cry,
"All's lost! to prayers, to prayers! all's lost!"
Still in this state awfully the vessel rapidly was impelled, and approached more closely to the coast of Austrian-Flanders. But alas! it is our painful lot to record the unhappy fate of "The William Wallace of Ayr;" when approaching Ostend the ill-omened bark struck upon a sand bank, which but too truly is called "Banc-Dangereux;" then her crushing timbers fatally loosened, and, dissevered by the convulsive shock, promiscuously scattered upon the surface of the waves were seen floating the disjoined wreck, shattered spars, divided stores, bales of cargo, &c., along with the mangled corses of the dead, and the struggling bodies of the living, all commingled, and tumultuously undulating upon the agitated billows. But providential it was for the survivors, who, in number, we grieve to state, were but few, that this dreadful catastrophe occurred so closely to the shores of Ostend. Sorry, however, we are to relate that all the crew (except two persons) perished; and that among those who were saved, we have only to count the Captain of the ship, the Mate, the Rev. Doctor M'Kenzie, Colonel Davidson and his servant, these forming the very confined list, we regret to say, of those who survived the terrors of that eventful day.
Impelled by the resistless call of humanity, several boats had put out from the harbour, perceiving the perilous situation of the poor unhappy sufferers; so that when the dread event took place, these were ready and prompt to save the remnant of those who survived what time "The William Wallace"