A PERSONAL NARRATIVE. 285 



having attached to it a fragment of a lady's dress. One of the mail bags, containing 

 newspapers, unscorched, but very much damaged by sea-water, was washed ashore near 

 Bridport three weeks after the occurrence of the wreck. 



The Rev. William Blood, who was one of the survivors, was landed at Plymouth in one 

 of the boats late on Thursday night, and was much too ill to commit his thoughts to paper 

 during the Friday and Saturday following. But on the Sunday following, in presence of 

 4,000 people, he, in the course of an extempore sermon, gave his hearers a graphic description 

 of the catastrophe and of his escape from the wreck."* The first evening of the voyage he 

 sat up till between eleven and twelve o'clock, enjoying the sea-breeze and the beauty of 

 the scene. He had then retired, undressing himself as at home, and had slept well. On the 

 fatal night, however, he seems to have had an indefinite presentiment that something was 

 about to occur. On that evening, says he, " without any cause, I was induced to retire early 

 (nine o'clock), and when going to bed it was deeply impressed on my mind not to undress. 

 I accordingly lay down upon the bed with my clothes on, even my boots, and immediately 

 fell into a sound sleep. At about half-past twelve I awoke, greatly refreshed, and prepared 

 for what was to follow. No voice awoke me ; no alarm had been given ; no bell aroused me. 

 When I awoke, I felt surprised by a peculiar indescribable sensation as of solitude, of 

 vacancy ; and on opening the window of my cabin, I looked out, but saw no person ; still all 

 was silent ; and with the same feeling I arose, went out of the cabin, without even taking 

 my watch, which lay beneath my pillow, and, as I passed along the saloon, I overheard the 

 voice of the stewardess in the distance, saying, ' The ship is on fire ! ' I then hastened 

 towards the stairs at the fore part of the ship, and saw (oh, horror !) the blaze ascending 

 right across the vessel. I ascended the stairs just in time to escape the flames. When on 

 the deck, I had merely time to walk across to the bulwarks, for on the deck the flames were 

 spreading with terrific rapidity. 



" When I got on deck I saw no one, and heard no noise or confusion, so that much of 

 the disaster must have been over by that time. I then saw some men endeavouring to lower 

 one of the boats near the paddle-box, and at the same moment I became fully aware of my 

 awful position, and that I had to choose between death by fire or by water, unless I made 

 some effort to save myself. With this conviction on my mind, I laid hold of a rope, and 

 swung myself over the ship's side, and was just about to precipitate myself into the boat 

 beneath me, which was then swinging with her stern in the water. In another moment her 

 human freight were in the death struggle in an element not less terrible or destructive than 

 that from which they had been making such frantic efforts to escape ; and even at this 

 moment their appalling shrieks, as they struggled amidst the dark and gloomy waves, seem 

 to ring in my ears. Here, again, I think Divine interference was manifested on my behalf, 

 for an apparent accident saved me from that boat. Almost crippled as I was, I managed, by 

 the aid of the rope to which I clung, to regain the now blazing deck, just as some of the 

 crew were endeavouring to release one of the life-boats from her very embarrassing fastenings. 

 They succeeded. She was turned over the ship's side. I was in her then ; and, while 

 suspended midway between fire and water, she turned keel up, and her oars were thrown out. 



* " The Amazon : " A sermon preached at St. Andrew's Church, Plymouth, January 18th, 1852, hy the Rev. 

 William Blood (one of the survivors). 



