there seemed to be but little probability of our ships holding together
much longer, so frequent and violent were the shocks they sustained. The
loud, crashing noise of the straining and working of the timbers and
decks, as she was driven against some of the heavier pieces, which all
the activity and exertions of our people could not prevent, was
sufficient to fill the stoutest heart, that was not supported by trust
in Him, who controls all events, with dismay.

At two P.M. the storm gained its height, when the barometer stood at
28.40 inches, and, after that time, began to rise. Although we had been
forced many miles deeper into the pack, we could not perceive that the
swell had at all subsided, our ships still rolling and groaning amid the
heavy fragments of crushing bergs, over which the ocean rolled its
mountainous waves, throwing huge masses one upon another, and then again
burying them deep beneath its foaming waters, dashing and grinding them
together with fearful violence. The awful grandeur of such a scene can
neither be imagined nor described, for less can the feelings of those
who witnessed it be understood. Each of us secured our hold, waiting the
issue with resignation to the will of Him who alone could preserve us,
and bring us safely through this extreme danger; watching with
breathless anxiety the effect of each succeeding collision, and the
vibrations of the tottering masts, expecting every moment to see them
give way, without our having the power to make an effort to save them.

Although the force of the wind had somewhat diminished by four o'clock,
yet the squalls came on with unabated violence, laying the ship over on
her broadside, and threatening to blow the storm-sails to pieces;
fortunately they were quite new, or they never could have withstood such
terrific gusts. At this time, the Terror was so close to us, that, when
she rose to the top of one wave, the Erebus was on the top of that next