“’At about nine o’clock, A.M., or rather before, we had just finished our breakfast, and the last lighter, with rum on board, had come alongside:  this vessel was a sloop of about fifty tons, and belonged to three brothers, who used to carry things on board the man-of-war.  She was lashed to the larboard side of the “Royal George,” and we were piped to clear the lighter, and get the rum out of her, and stow it in the hold of the “Royal George.”  I was in the waist of our ship, on the larboard side, bearing the rum-casks over, as some of our men were aboard the sloop to sling them.

“’At first no danger was apprehended from the ship being on one side, although the water kept dashing in at the port-holes at every wave; and there being mice in the lower part of the ship, which were disturbed by the water which dashed in, they were hunted in the water by the men, and there had been a rare game going on.  However, by nine o’clock the additional quantity of rum aboard the ship, and also the quantity of sea-water which had dashed in through the port-holes, brought the larboard port-holes of the lower gun-deck nearly level with the sea.

“As soon as that was the case, the carpenter went on the quarter-deck to the lieutenant of the watch, to ask him to give orders to “right ship,” as the ship could not bear it.  However, the lieutenant made him a very short answer, and the carpenter then went below.  This officer was the third lieutenant; he had not joined us long:  his name I do not recollect; he was a good-sized man, between thirty and forty years of age.  The men called him “Jib and-stay-sail-Jack;” for if he had the watch in the night, he would be always bothering the men to alter the sails, and it was “up jib” and “down jib,” and “up foresail” and “down foresail,” every minute.  However, the men considered him more of a troublesome officer than a good one; and, from a habit he had of moving his fingers about when walking the quarter-deck, the men said he was an organ-player from London:  but I have no reason to know this was the case.  The captain’s name was Waghorn.  He was on board, but where he was I do not know:  however, captains, if anything is to be done when the ship is in harbor, seldom interfere, but leave it all to the officer of the watch.  The Admiral was, either in his cabin, or in the steerage (I do not know which); and the barber, who had been to shave him, had just left.  The Admiral was a man upwards of seventy years of age; he was a thin tall man, and stooped a good deal.

“’As I have already stated, the carpenter left the quarter-deck and went below.  In a very short time he came up again, and asked the lieutenant of the watch to “right ship,” and said again that the ship could not bear it.  Myself and a good many more were at the waist of the ship and at the gangways, and heard what passed, as we knew the danger, and began to feel aggrieved; for there were some capital seamen aboard, who knew what they were about quite as well or better than the officers.