the day opened, and that he should avoid the demands of the Dover pilot
or the Down fees by not casting anchor there. Another help the captain
rejected, and bitterly did he lament it when it was too late.

No sooner had the pilot boat departed, than the commodore at Deal
despatched two boats to endeavor to board the ship. The captain
obstinately refused to take any notice of them, and ordered the crew to
let the vessel drive before the wind. This they did, till the ship ran
so close in shore, that the captain himself saw the imminent danger, and
twice attempted to put her about, but in vain. On the first of the
projecting jetties of Dymchurch-wall the vessel struck. I would not if I
could grieve your young heart with a detail of all the horrors that
ensued; the devoted ship continued to beat on the piles, the sea
breaking over her with such violence, that the pumps could no longer be
worked.

The foremast soon went over the ship's side, carrying twelve seamen
with it, who were swallowed up by the billows. The rudder was unshipped,
the tiller tore up the gundeck, and the water rushed in at the
port-holes. At this fearful moment most of the passengers and crew
joined in solemn prayer to the Almighty. Morning came, but it was only
to witness the demolition of the wreck.

Many were the efforts made by the sufferers, some in the jolly boat,
some on a raft, others by lashing themselves to pieces of timber,
hogsheads, and even hencoops, to reach the shore; but out of four
hundred and seventy-two persons who a few days before had left the coast
of Holland, not more than eighteen escaped the raging billows. The
miserable remnant received generous attention from the inhabitants of
the place, who did all in their power to aid their recovery.