CHARLES GORDON AND CHRISTINA CUNNINGHAM.

On the 21st of March, 1743, Captain Richard Dundas, commander of the
frigate _Arethusa_, carrying forty-four guns and 250 men, sailed from
Deptford with that vessel in perfect order and condition, and bound for
Leith. The ship was one of the finest in the service, and the commander a
man of great energy and intelligence. Mr Charles Gordon, superintendent of
his Majesty's dockyard at Deptford, a young officer of distinguished
ability and exemplary character, was one of the passengers. No incident
worthy of notice occurred until they reached St Abb's Head, when they were
overtaken with a strong adverse gale of wind and heavy snow storm, which
unfortunately drove them from their course, and prevented sight of land for
a considerable time. The wind continued to increase in violence, but the
snow ceased falling for a little, when it was discovered that they had been
driven past the mouth of the Firth of Forth and were now in St Andrews Bay.

They then close-reefed their sails, and made all snug; and Captain Dundas,
declaring that they should have to encounter a strong south-easter, all
their efforts were directed to double the headland of Fifeness and the
dreaded Carr Rock, and get into the Forth; but their utmost endeavours were
unavailing, so that the best part of a day was spent in tacking and veering
to, close in with the land, to no purpose.

The sun set angrily, and the wind veering more adversely, to their utter
dismay, brought them on a lee shore. The storm increased with the night.
The snow began again to fall, and neither the stars nor the lights of Tay
or of the Firth could be seen. The sea was lashed into tremendous fury.
There was a fearful sullen sound of rushing waves and broken surges--"Deep
called unto deep." At times the black volume of clouds overhead seemed rent
asunder by flashes of lightning that quivered along the foaming billows,
and made the succeeding darkness doubly terrible. The thunders bellowed
over the wild waste of waters, and were echoed and prolonged by the
mountain-like waves. As the ship was seen staggering and plunging among
these roaring caverns, it seemed miraculous that she regained her balance,
or preserved her buoyancy. Her yards dipped into the water--her bow was
buried almost beneath the waves. Sometimes an impending surge appeared
ready to overwhelm her, and nothing but a dexterous movement of the helm
preserved her from the shock.

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