“Why, lads, this is nothing to what I have had to go through in the North Seas,” remarked Bruff. “I’ve known it so cold that every drop of spray which came on board froze, and I’ve seen the whole deck, and every spar and rope one mass of ice, so that there was no getting the ropes to run through the sheaves of the blocks, and as to furling sails, which were mere sheets of ice, that was next to an impossibility. I warn you, if you don’t like what we have got now, you’ll like still less what is coming. There are some heavy snow-clouds driving up, and we shall have a shift of wind soon.”
The frigate had now got up to within four miles of Cuxhaven, when, at about four o’clock, as the winter’s day was closing in, it, as Bruff had anticipated, came on to snow so thickly that the pilot could no longer see the marks, and it accordingly became necessary to anchor. Later in the evening, when darkness had already set in, the wind shifted to the southward of east, and the snow fell with a density scarcely ever surpassed, as if the whole cloud mass of snow were descending bodily to the earth. Added to this, the high wind drove the ice, which had hitherto remained fixed to the shore, high up, directly down on the ship, threatening every instant to cut her cables, when she must have been driven on shore and lost.
“All hands on deck!” turned many a sleeper out of his hammock, where, if not warm, he was not so cold as elsewhere. All night long the crew were on deck, fending off the ice, which in huge masses came drifting down on them.
“What do you think of this, Paddy?” asked Bruff.
“Why, by my faith, that when a thing is bad we have good reason to be thankful that it’s no worse,” answered O’Grady. “Can anything be worse than this?”
“Yes, indeed, a great deal worse,” said Bruff.
The morning broke at length, and as it was evident that the ambassador could not be landed at Cuxhaven, it was necessary to get out of the Elbe without delay, that he might be put on shore on the coast of Holstein, if possible.
The wind blew as strong as ever—a severe gale; but, the snow ceasing partially, the pilot was enabled to see the land. The ship stood on under one sail only—the utmost she could carry—a fore-topmast stay-sail.
“Hurrah! we shall soon be out of this trap, and once more in the open sea,” exclaimed O’Grady. “So the pilot says.”
“Are we well clear of the outer bank?” asked the captain.