the month.  On the 15th the St George and convoy arrived off the Island of Zealand, where they anchored to wait for a favourable wind, having met with very rough weather in their passage from Hano, and several of the convoy having foundered, without its being possible for the others to render them the least assistance.  In the course of the night of the 15th the wind increased to a hurricane, and all hands on board the St. George were summoned to give the ship cable.  Before this could be accomplished the sea poured through the hawse-holes, carried everything away, and rendered it impossible for many of the men to stand to their duty.  They were still in the act of veering away the cable, when a large merchant vessel, which had been seen looming through the darkness, drifted down upon them, its hull coming violently in collision with the bows of the St. George, and severing her cables;—­one piercing shriek followed,—­the merchantman gave a lurch, and the next instant was engulfed in the raging billows.

However appalling the sight of this fearful tragedy might have been to the crew of the St. George, their own danger was too imminent to allow them much time for reflection, for on heaving the lead they found only fourteen fathoms, though they had anchored in twenty.  The best bower anchor was at once let go, as the ship appeared to be fast drifting towards the shore; but such was the force of the wind and sea, that its massive ring broke off as if it had been only a piece of wire.  Upon this it was resolved to wear her off the land, and the jib and foretopmast stay-sail were loosed, but before they could be set the sails were wrenched from the bolt-ropes, and borne away by the blast.  The lead being cast again, eight fathoms were reported; the sheet anchor was let go, in hopes that it would hold, but, like the other anchor, it made no impression on the ship, and broke short off.  As a last resource, the men began to cut away the masts, when, just as they fell, a heavy sea lifted the vessel and hurled her with violence upon a sand bank, where she remained fast, the masts having by good fortune fallen clear of her sides.

There was but little hope now of saving the ship, yet the crew behaved with the most admirable steadiness, and obeyed with cheerful alacrity when they were ordered to man the pumps.  Towards daybreak the rudder was torn from its fastenings, and it was only the discovery that the water did not gain on the ship that sustained the drooping spirits of the seamen, exhausted as they were with their arduous exertions and long exposure to the biting cold and constant fall of sleet and snow.  At half-past six the long-wished-for dawn appeared, when, to their dismay, they found themselves on a sand bank, four miles from the shore.  As the wind and sea gradually abated, the rest of the squadron attempted to render them assistance, but did not venture to approach too close to the shoal.  The St. George continued to strike heavily until twelve that night, when her head swung round to the land, and, contrary to all expectations, the water was found to have risen three feet since eight o’clock in the evening.  By ten the next morning (Sunday, the 17th of November) she was clear of all danger, and having fitted up jury-masts, with a rudder supplied from the Cressy, she arrived in safety at Gottenburg, about the 2nd of December.