s with her decks
bare. Her keelson was broke under her and her bottom sagged and
stove, and she had just settled down like a sitting hen--just the
leastest list to starboard; but a man could stand there easy.
They had rigged up ropes across her, from bulwark to bulwark, an'
beside these the men were mustered, holding on like grim death
whenever the sea made a clean breach over them, an' standing up like
heroes as soon as it passed. The captain an' the officers were
clinging to the rail of the quarter-deck, all in their golden
uniforms, waiting for the end as if 'twas King George they expected.
There was no way to help, for she lay right beyond cast of line,
though our folk tried it fifty times. And beside them clung a
trumpeter, a whacking big man, an' between the heavy seas he would
lift his trumpet with one hand, and blow a call; and every time he
blew, the men gave a cheer. There' (she says)'--hark 'ee now--there
he goes agen! But you won't hear no cheering any more, for few are
left to cheer, and their voices weak. Bitter cold the wind is, and I
reckon it numbs their grip o' the ropes, for they were dropping off
fast with every sea when my man sent me home to get his breakfast.
_Another_ wreck, you say? Well, there's no hope for the tender
dears, if 'tis the Manacles. You'd better run down and help yonder;
though 'tis little help that any man can give. Not one came in alive
while I was there. The tide's flowing, an' she won't hold together
another hour, they say.'

"Well, sure enough, the end was coming fast when my father got down
to the point. Six men had been cast up alive, or just breathing--a
seaman and five troopers. The seaman was the only one that had
breath to speak; and while they were carrying him into the town, the
word went round that the ship's name was the _Despatch_, transport,
homeward bound from Corunna, with a detachment of the 7th Hussars,
that had been fighting out there with Sir John Moore. The seas had
rolled her farther over by this time, and given her decks a pretty
sharp slope; but a dozen men still held on, seven by the ropes near
the ship's waist, a couple near the break of the poop, and three on
the quarter-deck. Of these three my father made out one to be the
skipper; close by him clung an officer in full regimentals--his name,
they heard after, was Captain Duncanfield; and last came the tall
trumpeter; and if you'll believe me, the fellow was making shift
there, at the