To the Rev.A.Brandram (ENDORSED:recd.Nov.30th,1836)LISBON,NOVR.15TH,1836.
REVD.AND DEAR SIR,-On taking leave of you I promised to write from Cadiz,and I still hope to perform my promise;but as I am apprehensive that several days will elapse before I shall reach that place I avail myself of the present opportunity of informing you that I am alive and well,lest you should become uneasy at not hearing from me at the time you expected.It is owing to the mercy of God that,instead of being able to pen these lines,I am not at the present moment floundering in the brine,a prey to the fishes and monsters of the ocean.
We had a most unpleasant passage to Falmouth.The ship was crowded with passengers,most of whom were poor consumptive individuals and other invalids,fleeing from the cold blasts of England's winter to the sunny shores of Portugal and Madeira.In a more uncomfortable vessel,especially steam-ship,it has never been my fate to make a voyage;the berths were small and insupportably close,and of the wretched holes mine was amongst the worst,the rest having been for the most part bespoken before I arrived on board,so that to avoid the suffocation which seemed to threaten me I lay upon the floor of one of the cabins,and continued to do so until my arrival here.
We remained at Falmouth twenty-four hours,taking in coals and repairing the engine,which had sustained considerable damage.
On Monday the 7th inst.we again started and made for the Bay of Biscay;the sea was high and the wind strong and contrary,nevertheless on the morning of the fourth day we were in sight of the rocky coast to the north of Cape Finisterre.I must here observe that this was the first voyage that the captain who commanded the vessel had ever made on board of her,and that he knew little or nothing about the coast towards which we were bearing;he was a person picked up in a hurry,the former captain having resigned his command on the ground that the ship was not sea-worthy,and that the engines were frequently unserviceable.Iwas not acquainted with these circumstances at the time,or perhaps I should have felt more alarmed than I did when I saw the vessel approaching nearer and nearer to the shore,till at last we were only a few hundred yards distant.As it was,however,I felt very much surprised,for having passed it twice before,both times in steam-vessels,and having seen with what care the captains endeavoured to maintain a wide offing,I could not conceive the reason of our being now so near the dangerous region.The wind was blowing hard towards the shore,if that can be called a shore which consists of steep abrupt precipices,on which the surf was breaking with the noise of thunder,tossing up clouds of spray and foam to the height of a cathedral.We coasted slowly along,rounding several tall forelands,some of them piled up by the hand of nature in the most fantastic shapes,until about the fall of night.Cape Finisterre was not far ahead,a bluff brown granite mountain,whose frowning head may be seen far away by those who travel the ocean.
The stream which poured round its breast was terrific,and though our engines plied with all their force,we made little or no way.
By about eight o'clock at night,the wind had increased to a hurricane,the thunder rolled frightfully,and the only light which we had to guide us on our way was the red forked lightning which burst at times from the bosom of the big black clouds which lowered over our heads.We were exerting ourselves to the utmost to weather the cape,which we could descry by the lightning on our lee,its brow being frequently brilliantly lighted up by the flashes which quivered around it,when suddenly,with a great crash,the engine broke,and the paddles on which depended our lives ceased to play.
