and,
finding the waste and wreckage from the cargo of the "Grape-shot,"
lived for days on the hay and oats, soaked with sea-water though they
were.

For two days this gale continued. The outlook for the fleet seemed
hopeless. The inner bar of the harbor was absolutely impassable.
Between the outer bar and the inner were packed seventy vessels. This
space, though called a harbor, was almost unsheltered. Crowded with
vessels as it was, it made an anchorage only less dangerous than that
outside. Although the vessels were anchored, bow and stern, the
violence of the sea was such that they frequently crashed into each
other, breaking bulwarks, spars, and wheel-houses, and tearing away
standing-rigging. A schooner breaking from its anchorage went tossing
and twirling through the fleet, crashing into vessel after vessel,
until finally, getting foul of a small steamer, dragged it from its
moorings; and the two began a waltz in the crowded harbor, to the
great detriment of the surrounding craft. At last the two runaways
went aground on a shoal, and pounded away there until every seam was
open, and the holds filled with water.

A strange mishap was that which befell the gunboat "Zouave." She was
riding safely at anchor, remote from other ships, taking the seas
nobly, and apparently in no possible danger. Her crew occupied
themselves in going to the assistance of those in the distressed
vessels, feeling that their own was perfectly safe. But during the
night, the tide being out, the vessel was driven against one of the
flukes of her own anchor; and as each wave lifted her up and dropped
her heavily on the sharp iron, a hole was stove in her bottom,
sinking her so quickly that the crew took to the boats, saving
nothing.

But the most serious disaster was the total wreck of the "City of New
York," a large transport, with a cargo of ordnance stores valued at
two hundred thousand dollars. Unable to enter the inlet, she tried to
ride out the gale outside. The tremendous sea, and the wind blowing
furiously on shore, caused her to drag her anchors; and those on board
saw certain death staring them in the face, as hour by hour the ship
drifted nearer and nearer to the tumbling mass of mighty breakers,
that with an unceasing roar, and white foam gleaming like the teeth of
an enraged lion, broke heavily on the sand. She struck on Monday
afternoon, and soon swung around, broadside to the sea, so as to be
helpless and at the mercy of the