pumps, when the ship went down; he was washed up the hatchway, and
thence into the sea; he then struck out for the shrouds, but was
seized by three of his drowning comrades. To extricate himself from
their grasp, he dived for a few seconds, which caused them to let go
their hold. He reached the shrouds, which were crowded with people,
and then climbed to the main-top. Ten men had taken refuge in the
foretop, and about a hundred persons altogether are supposed by Mr.
Galvin to have been clinging to the shrouds, tops, and other parts of
the rigging; but the long November night, the intense cold, and the
fierce gale, finished the work that the waves had left undone; and one
by one the poor creatures let go their hold, frozen or exhausted, and
dropped into the foaming sea.

About forty persons were clinging to the mainmast when it fell over,
and all were lost, except Mr. Galvin and nine others, who had strength
enough left to enable them to gain the top, which rested on the
mainyard, being fortunately sustained by a part of the rigging. But of
the ten who regained the main-top, four only, including Mr. Galvin,
survived the night. Of the ten in the foretop, six perished, three
from exhaustion, and three were washed way.

Here we cannot refrain from relating an instance of the coolness which
is so often characteristic of the British sailor. Amongst those who
survived in the foretop were two seamen, Robert Dunlap, and Daniel
Munroe; the latter disappeared in the night, and his companion
concluded that he had been washed away with the others. About two
hours, however, after he had been missed, Munroe, to the surprise of
Dunlap, thrust his head through the lubber's hole. Dunlap asked where
he had been.