stances which I had learnt from the page of history; and he required no other stimulant to proceed. "In the month of July," continued the old ર man, our ship, with the Canada, Ramillies, the Ville de Paris, and some other prizes, sailed from Jamaica with the convoy for England. Soon after we got out a gale of wind sprung up, and our ships were all so crazy that two or three of them parted company, and bore up for Halifax. Most of them had been a long while out from England, and ships in those days were not so well put together as now. Just as we got off the banks of Newfoundland it came on to blow very heavy from the southward and eastward. The wind increased in furious squalls; but sometimes it would fall quite light. The day before the hurricane came on* one of the ships' boats, I think it was the Canada's, came alongside and took some provisions out of us; but she had hardly got back to her own ship again before the hurricane began, and in another hour the ships were under bare poles, for not a stitch of canvas would stand it. Towards night it moderated again a little, and our ship set a reefed main-course, and lay-to under it, and so did the Ramillies. "All went on very well till the middle watch. I had the first watch, and went below and turned in all standing; but I hadn't been below long before the ship was on her beam-ends. All hands scrambled up on deck as fast as they could, for some of the ladders were unshipped, and when I got up it was dreadful to look at. The wind had shifted suddenly to the northward, and had taken the Centaur aback; the mainsail was all to ribbons in a twinkling, and there was the ship on her broadside, with her gangway under water, the sea flying over her like smoke. In five minutes more she would have foundered. The Captain was on deck, but the hurricane roared so loud that not a command could be heard. I managed to get near him; and he and the First-Lieutenant were talking of cutting away the masts. I'll do it, Sir,' said I ; and next minute I was in the weather-mainchains. I laid down; and out knife. I only notched two of the laniards—and whiz! away flew the mast over the side. Before I could draw breath, a sea struck her forward, and the foremast went of itself. She righted so suddenly that I was all but washed out of the chains. "The ship then rolled about so heavy, that, soon after her masts were gone, a heavy sea struck her abaft, and unshipped the rudderso we had a very poor chance of ever making a port. The carpenter, Mr. Woodriff, came on deck, and reported that the ship made a great deal of water. The chain-pumps were accordingly rigged, and all hands took their spell at the winches; but, all we could do, the water increased; some baled, while others pumped-but all to no purpose. Sails were thrummed, and put under her bottom, and everything we could think of was done to save her. No ship was at hand to help us; and after three or four days at the pumps the men were knocked up, and laid down determined to do no more. The after-hold was all afloat, and the casks knocking about so that we couldn't get at any provisions and the orlop-deck was blown up as well. At times the gale would moderate a little, and give us some hope; but no sooner had we rigged Of this, the most disastrous hurricane upon record, it is my intention, in a future paper, to collect, from living witnesses, as many details as possible. a jury-mast, than it would come on to blow as hard as ever. The boats were got over the side, and whatever provisions could be got at were pitched into them, but no one seemed to care to go in them. Some danced about like madmen, and some cried like children; but when it came to the last pinch, and the ship was sinking very fast, Captain Inglefield, the Master, and ten men, besides myself, jumped into the pinnace, and shoved off from the ship. Hundreds were ready to jump in, but they were too late, for then all hands would have been lost. "We left the ship about eight o'clock in the morning at that time. There was little or no wind; but a heavy swell was running, and there was very little hope for us poor fellows. Our boat leaked very much, having been so long on the booms, and we had only provisions enough for a day or two; but still we had a chance, though it was but a poor Our Captain did not let us know the worst of it: we did not know that we were 800 miles from land; Captain Inglefield kept that to himself. A young Midshipman jumped overboard after the boat shoved off, and we pulled him in. Some of the men hooted, and called us cowards for leaving them; but what could be done? The boat was already full enough, and we pulled away from her. one. "A light breeze sprung up in the afternoon. We hoisted our sail,* and, as night closed in, we lost sight of the Centaur. It is most likely the crew swamped the other boat after we left, and the ship must have foundered that night, for all the pumps were worn out, and the water was nearly up to the lower deck before we quitted her. It came on to blow fresh in the night, and we were obliged to be continually baling the boat to keep her from foundering, as one sea followed another so fast that we had constant employment. Those who did not bale were seated in the bottom of the boat, up to their middles in water. All night long it blew very strong, and the sea ran very high, so that we had a very poor prospect of ever getting another glimpse of the sun; but a good Providence watched over us, and carried us through our troubles. "At last the day broke. We looked all round in hopes of seeing some ship of the convoy, but nothing but clouds and waves could we see. It's a sad lonely sight that, to be in an open boat, and hundreds of miles from any land; but our Captain was very cheerful, and told us to keep a good look-out for the land. We had some little chance of making the island of Coroo, but we did not. The Captain got the latitude to-day, and then he knew we were past it, and shaped a course before the wind for Fayal, going four or five knots. Our dinner was a very poor one, consisting of a very small piece of raw pork, and about a quarter of a biscuit, with a little French wine to wash it down; nevertheless, we thanked God for it, looking forward to better times. "As the sun came out, we stripped and dried our clothes, and bailed all the water out of the boat, which was beginning to stanch a little; and as we looked forward to making Fayal very soon, we began to cheer up. The Captain made us to sing songs and tell long yarns, and tried all he could to keep up our spirits. "The wind shifted the next day, so that we could only lay our *In the narrative handed down by Captain Inglefield, it is stated that they had neither sail, compass, nor quadrant. English affirms positively that they had all these necessaries. Which is right I leave my readers to determine. course, and for some days afterwards the wind was variable. At times it blew hard, and, luckily for us, it rained; for all our water was in one small cask, which on the fourth day was all expended. We caught the rain by means of a pair of sheets that we found in the boat, and this kept us from famishing. Twelve days passed by, and still no land. All our biscuit was gone, and not a morsel of anything to eat. We then began upon our shoes, and ate them. Two more days past, and we began to look at one another. I am afraid in a few hours more we should have eaten one another. "On the fifteenth day we had a strong breeze of wind from the westward. Our Captain was more anxious than we had ever seen him before. He knew that if we did not see the land soon it would be all over with us. I think it was about the middle of the day I was forward in the bow of the boat: the day was very cloudy. I looked round to windward, and thought I saw the land. I rubbed my eyes, and looked again. There it was, sure enough, broad on the weather bow. I jumped up on the boat's thwarts, and cried out, 'There's the land, by G-d!' "The Captain thought I was mad, and was very angry with me for swearing. All hands looked, but none of them would believe me. • You must look in the clouds for it,' said I. 'There's the peak of Fayal, or I never saw Fayal in my life.' "You're right,' said the Captain; that's Fayall, and thank God for it. It was our last chance. Haul up for it.' "If we had continued the same course we were steering for another hour, most likely we should have passed it, and then all hands must have perished. We could fetch in very well with the wind abeam, going four or five knots. The clouds soon broke away, and we made out the land quite well. "Has any man among you ever been in here?' said the Captain. "I have, Sir,' said I, in the Jupiter.' "To be sure you was,' said he, or else I should never have had you.' "Well, we got into the harbour that night, and plumped the boat ashore on the beach: as soon as ever we got to the land, the people came down and crowded round us, and the same night we landed and were carried (for none of us could walk) to the hospital and put to bed. I had been so long without eating that I was some time trying to get down a morsel of bread; my tongue was dry and quite hard like horn. I could not sleep that night for thinking of the land. If I dosed off to sleep I dreamt directly that we were on the ocean again, and up I jumped and looked round to satisfy myself we were in port. The English Consul came down to us every day, and had us taken every care of, but it was a long time before we could get the better of our starvation. The Captain was the strongest, but he was very like to have died. "The English Consul and the Portuguese treated us with the kindness of brothers, and owing to their care and attention all but one man, a quartermaster, recovered.* Our attendants fed us like birds, only a little at a time. I remember that, when a small piece of bread was given * In this our hero again differs with Captain Inglefield's account. That states the man to have died the day before the boat made the land, and that all who were landed recovered. me, I said I could eat ten times as much, but the gentleman laughed, and said I should have as much as I liked in a month's time: when you are well,' said he, 'you shall have a bellyfull.' "Providence was indeed very good to you," said I, after listening attentively to the above faithful narrative, "and what has become of all your companions?" "I don't think there is any one left but me now," he answered; Captain Inglefield died at Greenwich some years back, and he was the last but me. I often used to go to see him, and he was always very kind to me. Sullivan, the Captain's coxswain, was made gunner of a frigate afterwards, and he died and was buried at sea.' 39 As I now thought I had heard enough for a commencement, I got up and took my departure, promising to see him again very soon, the more especially as he was in want of some tobacco. It afterwards struck me that, on reading the narrative of Captain Inglefield, I had never remembered seeing the name of English in the list of survivors, and, although convinced in my own mind that the old man was no impostor, yet I feared I should never be able to make use of the information. Under these circumstances I made several inquiries concerning him, and was at last so fortunate as to fall in with a man who had been his shipmate in the Centaur, and had been drafted into another ship in the West Indies. English then bore another name. Thus armed, when I again met my old friend, I charged him with the fact. He could not deny it, and disclosed to me in confidence his real name. As I am under no necessity of publishing it, the facts being of themselves sufficient, I shall not of course break faith. Old tars very often are very much alarmed when charged with possessing an alias; they have paid dearly for their names, and are much more sinned against than sinning. The hardships endured by these poor fellows in the war time claimed for them no indulgence, and no sooner would a ship's company receive their pay, although they might have been in a foreign country for the previous eight or nine years, than, without suffering them to put foot on the shore, they would be separated from each other, and drafted into any ship at the time fitting out. There are many instances amongst the pensioners where nine year's pay and prize-money have been sacrificed on the altar of liberty.* Not to diverge, however, from the main object, let us return to old English. I demanded of him his next ship. I learnt from him that he afterwards returned for a short time to the merchant service, and after that he joined Sir Richard Bickerton in the, where he served in the second American disturbance. From this ship he deserted, and ever afterwards went by the name of English. He joined the Pallas, and was in her with the gallant Cornwallis, when he made his celebrated retreat; and in this ship he was wrecked in Plymouth, under Mount Batten, in 1798. * I should delight to hear that all "R.'s,” contracted under such circumstances, were removed. SCENES IN A MILITARY HOSPITAL. OPORTO. No. II. THE DUELLIST AND GAMESTER. "Bid not thy fortune troll upon the wheels Who might have lived an honour'd, easy life, To ruin, and an unregarded grave." FROM the period at which the last narrative dates, I became a frequent, indeed almost daily hospital visitor, and in conjunction with a few others, endeavoured, as far as lay in my power, to alleviate the wretchedness and suffering of the unfortunate tenants of these horrible charnel-houses. We were but little interfered with, and were consequently enabled to effect many apparently trivial alterations in the treatment of the sick and wounded, that very materially ameliorated the condition of the sufferers. To describe the "scenes" witnessed day after day in these lazarettos, that should convey an adequate idea of their atrocity, would require another pen than mine; they were such as absolutely maddened many of the fated inmates. Of the treatment of the living I will not trust myself to speak for an instant, it would be too revolting; but I will picture the victim when dead. When a man expired of disease, or from wounds, or fell under the knife of the ignorant practitioners (in general mere boys), no further sensation was produced, or other notice taken of the circumstance, beyond the fact, that one other body was added to the list that was to complete the regulation number of corpses ere they could be carted away. But death was too sure of his victims in these pestilent abodes to permit the truck long to remain unoccupied by the tale being incomplete. The bodies would then be dragged from where they lay, and flung into it with less ceremony, and as little feeling, as carcases from a slaughter-house; they would then be hurried off to the nearest possible vacant space without the hospital gates, and tossed and crammed into a hole barely deepened enough for the purpose, a little earth scraped across them, and, if from insufficient space an arm or leg protruded, amidst filthy jests, or idle scoffing, a blow from a mattock, a callous and ferocious stamp of the heel, would conclude the matter; and thus, without a semblance of religious rite, were the victims hurled into their temporary grave, like the beasts that perish, who awake no more. Then came night with its hideous scenes; the famished dogs in hundreds might be heard fighting over the mangled bodies they had scratched from the grave, and were banqueting upon; and in the morning there lay human bones scattered about the streets, and exposed to view in the public pathway; yet, from familiarity, scarcely creating remark, and quite unheeded. There were exceptions certainly in the conduct of the leading officers, by whom all this was permitted, but it is the rule that is spoken of; for by far the greater number of Oporto |