Although a few words only are required to describe the mode by which a communication was established between the ship and the shore, yet it had been a work of toil, time, and danger.  The boatswain had more than once nearly lost his life by being washed away by the waves as they swept over the wreck; the captain, who directed his proceedings, was standing up to his middle in water, upon one foot only, frequently losing his hold, and with great difficulty regaining his position.

The boatswain, when the preparations were completed, suggested that, in order to test the strength of the cable, a boy should be the first to make a trial of it; accordingly, a young lad was firmly secured to a sort of cradle or bowling knot, and drawn on shore in safety.  The success of the attempt was announced by a loud cheer from the strand, and the captain then took upon himself to direct the landing of the rest of the crew by the same means.  He stationed himself on the knight head, so as to prevent a general rush being made; he then called each man separately, and one by one they slung themselves upon the rope and were swung on shore.  Nothing could exceed the good conduct displayed by the whole of the ship’s company, every order was promptly obeyed, and the utmost patience and firmness exhibited by every individual.

When the greater part of the people had quitted the wreck, there still remained several who could not be induced even by the earnest and repeated entreaties of their commander to leave their dry position on the yards.  The strength of the captain and boatswain was almost exhausted, and as they could not persuade any more of the men to avail themselves of the proffered means of safety, they were obliged, though very reluctantly, to leave them on the wreck, and they themselves joined the crew on the rocks.

In the course of an hour or two, however, the party who had stayed by the wreck, took courage and ventured upon the rope; but as the stump of the bowsprit, which was over the larboard cathead, rendered it extremely hazardous to come forward, they did not all get on shore till daylight.  In the morning, Captain Burgess’s first care was to muster his men, and a melancholy spectacle presented itself.  Sixteen were missing, and of those who were gathered around him, many had been dreadfully bruised and lacerated in their efforts to reach the shore.  Amongst those who perished was a fine spirited lad, the son of Captain Bingham, late commander of the Thetis.  But a few months before, Captain Bingham himself had been drowned in the Guayaquil:  thus father and son lay far from their native land, beneath the western flood.

    The warlike of the isles,
    The men of field and wave,
    Are not the rocks their funeral piles,
    The seas and shores their grave? 
    Go, stranger! track the deep—­
    Free, free, the white sail spread;
    Wind may not rove, nor billows sweep,
    Where rest not England’s dead.