shivered to
splinters.

Our boats were instantly alongside the wreck, and took from it, and
picked out of the water, ten persons in all, of whom two were Chinamen.
Amongst these was the young officer who had boarded us the previous
evening, with the invitation to join in the celebration,--a fine-looking
man. He had been drawn from under the capstan, which had been blown
aft, was horribly mutilated, and had doubtless nearly all his bones
broken, besides sustaining internal injuries. He died like a hero upon
our quarter-deck, without a groan.

The crew of the Donna Maria was said to have been composed of two
hundred and forty souls; but there were some sick in the hospital at
Macao, and a few absent on leave and duty. They had, however, some
Chinese on board, not mustered as the crew, carpenters, and other
artisans, and some prisoners from a French bark, the "Chili." I consider
the number killed by this catastrophe may be fairly set down as two
hundred!

The commandant, d'Assis, perished with his vessel. His body was found
two days after, dragging astern, he having been blown through the stern
port, and caught in a sail. His remains were carried to Macao, and
buried with military honors, our officers assisting at the ceremony. His
son, a young Aspirante, or Midshipman, was ashore at the time. A
lieutenant was in charge of the "Typa Fort," and the surgeon in Macao,
at their hospital. The other officers were principally on board the
frigate.

Our commander, with others, had received an invitation to dine on board,
but the time had been fortunately postponed.

At the precise moment of the explosion on board the "Donna Maria," we
were probably as near as it would have been possible to have been in our
relative moorings, lying broadside on, but a little astern of her; our
starboard battery could have been brought to bear a point forward of the
beam; and this very proximity was doubtless the cause of our escaping
serious injury. Two of her heavy guns passed entirely over us, clearing
our royal masts, and falling into the water about twenty feet on our
port beam. Our main deck awning was spotted, as if a shower of blood had
passed over it. Some shot, pieces of lead, fragments of spars, and the
brains and entrails of the sufferers were lodged in the tops, and other
parts of our ship. The gig was stove, but her keeper escaped without
injury; another boat-keeper was not so fortunate, an iron bolt striking
him on the knee, an