As the tide ebbed, the ship beat violently, and began to leak, and by-and-by the rudder was broken off, and the copper sheathing of the vessel came up alongside her; but as she lay comparatively quiet, hopes were entertained that they might succeed in getting her off next tide. With this view they proceeded to lighten her by every means, throwing the guns overboard—carrying them to such a distance as to prevent their injuring the ship as she again rose with the tide. When, however, they had succeeded in removing about half the number, the sea-breeze set in fresh, and prevented the boats from approaching the ship's side. They continued, notwithstanding, to relieve her as much as possible, by throwing overboard such heavy articles as the tide would carry away. At high water they renewed their exertions to heave the ship off; but were again unsuccessful. The leak had by this time gained on the pumps, in spite of their utmost exertions.
It being evident that the ship was irrecoverably lost, the great object now was to secure the safety of the passengers and crew. The masts were cut away, in order to relieve the vessel, and such spars as the surf prevented being borne away by the tide, were secured for the purpose of making rafts to assist in conveying the passengers on shore. In order to prevent such scenes of drunkenness as have sometimes disgraced shipwrecks, every cask of spirits which could be reached was staved.
Towards evening, a party was sent on shore in the yawl, to prepare a convenient place for landing; and the captain addressed the crew, directing them as to the proper course of procedure on reaching the shore, and stating his determination to abide by the ship till the safety of every person on board was secured. This manly address reanimated the drooping courage of the crew.
During the night the wind increased, and several of the boats were dashed in pieces by the violence of the surf. Thus deprived of the means of transporting themselves on shore, and the ship, in the meantime, beating with such frightful violence against the rocks, as threatened every instant to break her in pieces, they passed a night of the greatest consternation and anxiety.
As soon as daylight set in, they began to construct rafts, of such materials as they could procure. Three or four of these constructions left the ship, carrying about eighty persons, all of whom succeeded in reaching the shore. In the meantime the breeze continued to freshen, till at length it became so violent, that the hawser which held the ship's stern to the wind parted, and she drove with her broadside on the rocks, the sea making a complete breach over her. She soon began to break up, when every one crowded to the-quarter-deck and poop, as the only place which afforded any chance of safety: in a short time this retreat also failed, the vessel going completely in pieces. Some of these were driven on shore in various places, bearing with them such of the crew as had managed to secure a footing upon them; but the gallant captain fell a victim to the waves.
For several days, portions of the wreck continued to drift on shore, generally bringing with them some part of the crew. On gathering the survivers together, it was found that the captain, the first mate, three young ladies, and forty-eight seamen, had perished. But the trials of the survivers were not at an end. The natives, attracted by the wreck, flocked to the shore, and, seizing on everything of value that had either been saved or was cast on shore, threatened every one who opposed them with instant death.
At length they reached Tulliar, the residence of the king of Baba, by whom they were kindly received. The yawl, which you will recollect had been sent on shore on the evening previous to the breaking up of the vessel, was then equipped and despatched to Mozambique, to endeavor to procure a ship to come to their rescue. After sailing for some days, they reached the coast of Africa; but being unable to make head against the northerly winds, they were forced to steer for Sofala, a Portuguese settlement, where they arrived in safety.
Unfortunately, but a single vessel touched at the settlement in the course of the year; and it had sailed about a month before. Finding that there was here no hope of obtaining relief for their companions, they again set sail, intending to proceed to Delagoa bay, in the expectation of falling in with some of the South Sea ships, which touch there annually in considerable numbers. Contrary winds, however, and the leaky state of their boat, soon forced them to return to Sofala. The governor received them, this time, in a very different manner from that which he had shown to them on their former visit, and with little ceremony insisted on the whole party proceeding with his messengers to Senna, an inland settlement.
For five weeks they travelled through a miserable country, very thinly inhabited, and exposed to the intense heat of the sun, and many dangers from the wild beasts with which the country abounds. The fatigue which they underwent on this journey was too much for several of the party, who died shortly after their arrival.
At length, five months after leaving Madagascar, two of the forty reached Mozambique. Here they freighted a vessel, and proceeded to the rescue of their unfortunate comrades in misfortune. They found them in a most melancholy plight. Disease and despair had been at work among them; nearly one half of those who were saved from the wreck had perished. The others, emaciated and worn out, were embarked, and, with the exception of seven, who expired on the passage, reached Mozambique, where, in spite of every attention which was lavished on them by the governor and the inhabitants, about thirty of them died within two months of their arrival.