esail then secured with equal care, o reef the mainsail they repair.some, high-mounted, overhaul the tye, the down-haul tacklet others ply. lifts, and brails, a seaman each attends, he mast the willing yard descends. lower'd sufficient, they securely brace, c'd the rolling-tackle in its place; ef-lines and their earings now prepared, ing on pliant shrouds, they man the yard. th' extremes two able hands appear, there, the hardy boatswain here; the van to front the tempest hung; und the lee yard-arm, ill-omen'd! clung. aring to its station first they bend; ef-band¶ then along the yard extend: rcling earings, round th' extremes entwined, er and by inner turns** they bind. hand to hand the reef-lines next received, gh eye-let holes and roebin legs were reeved. eef in double folds involved they lay; the firm cord, and either end belay. st thou, Arion! held the leeward post, on the yard by mountain billows tost, ps oblivion o'er our tragic tale en for ever drawn her dusky veil.ling heaven prolong'd thy vital date, er ills to suffer and relate! while their orders those aloft attend, rl the mainsail, or on deck descend, t up surging with tremendous roll, stant ruin seems to doom the whole. ends! secure your hold!" Arion cries; es all dreadful, stooping from the skies; e spilling-lines, which are only used on particular ns in tempestuous weather, are employed to ogether and confine the belly of the sail, when it ted by the wind over the yard. The sail half bury'd in the whelming wave, Prone on the midnight surge, with panting breath In dark suspense on deck the pilots stand, Now down the mast the sloping yard declined, e violence of the wind forces the yard so much rd from the mast on these occasions, that it cannot on of a tackle to haul it down on the mast. This rwards converted into rolling tackle. See note, 1. p. 20. ars are the same to the mainsail, foresail, and , as the haliards (note, 1st col. p. 19) are to all or sails. The tye is the upper part of the jears. ecf-lines are only used to reef the mainsail and il. They are past in spiral turns through the eye. les of the reef, and over the head of the sails een the rope-band legs, till they reach the extremif the reef, to which they are firmly extended, so as e the reef close up to the yard. rouds are thick ropes, stretching from the mastdownwards to the outside of the ship, serving to rt the masts. They are also used as a range of ladders, by which the seamen ascend or descend, erform whatever is necessary about the sails and ng. The reef-band is a long piece of canvass sewed along the mind and the inner turns are employed to The order given, the yard aloft they sway'd; When sacred Orpheus, on the Stygian coast, * To weather a shore is to pass to the windward of it, which at this time is prevented by the violence of the storm. To try, is to lay the ship, with her near side in the direction of the wind and sea, with the head somewhat inclined to the windward; the helm being laid a-lee to retain her in this position. See a farther illustration of this in the last note of this Canto. The topping lift, which tops the upper part of the mizen-yard, (see note **, p. 20.) This line and the six following describe the operation of reefing and balancing the mizen. The reef of this sail is towards the lower end, the knittles being small short lines used in the room Though round him perils grew in fell array, To guide him through that intricate abode. They sound the well,* and, terrible to hear! As some fair castle, shook by rude alarms, The Muse that tuned to barbarous sounds her The ramparts crack, the solid bulwarks rend, string, Now spreads, like Dædalus, a bolder wing; As yet, amid this elemental war, On deck the watchful Rodmond cries aloud, When o'er the ship, in undulation vast, And hostile troops the shatter'd breach ascend. So the brave mariners their pumps attend, And Fate, vindictive, all their skill defies. To plunge the nerves of battle in the wave: Rodmond, Arion, and a chosen crew, The well is an apartment in the ship's hold, serving to enclose the pumps. It is sounded by dropping a mea sured iron rod down into it by a long line. Hence the increase or diminution of the leaks are easily discovered. + The brake is the lever or handle of the pump, by which it is wrought. The waist of a ship of this kind is a hollow space, about five feet in depth, between the elevations of the The cordage of the leeward-guns unbraced, As fatal still appears, that danger o'er, quarter-deck and fore-castle, and having the upper deck for its base, or platform. The lee-way, or drift, which in this place are synony. mos terms, is the movement by which a ship is driven sideways at the mercy of the wind and sea, when she is deprived of the government of the sails and helm. "Ye faithful mates, who all my troubles share Approved companions of your master's care! To you, alas! 'twere fruitless now to tell Our sad distress, already known too well! This morn with favouring gales the port we left, Though now of every flattering hope bereft : No skill nor long experience could forecast Th' unseen approach of this destructive blast, These seas, where storms at various seasons blow No reigning winds nor certain omens know. The hour, the occasion all your skill demands; A leaky ship, embay'd by dangerous lands. Our bark no transient jeopardy surrounds; Groaning she lies beneath unnumber'd wounds: 'Tis ours the doubtful remedy to find, To shun the fury of the seas and wind; For in this hollow swell, with labour sore, Her flank can bear the bursting floods no more. Yet this or other ills she must endure; A dire disease, and desperate is the cure! Thus two expedients offer'd to your choice, Alone require your counsel and your voice, These only in our power are left to try; To perish here or from the storm to fly, The doubtful balance in my judgment cast, For various reasons I prefer the last. 'Tis true the vessel and her costly freight, To me consign'd, my orders only wait; Yet, since the charge of every life is mine, To equal votes our counsels I resign. Forbid it, Heaven, that, in this dreadful hour I claim the dangerous reins of purblind power! But should we now resolve to bear away, Our hopeless state can suffer no delay, Nor can we, thus bereft of every sail, Attempt to steer obliquely on the gale: For then, if broaching sideward on the sea, Our dropsied ship may founder on the lee: No more obedient to the pilot's power, [vour." Th' o'erwhelming wave may soon her frame deHe said; the listening mates with fix'd regard And silent reverence his opinion heard. Important was the question in debate, And o'er their councils hung impending Fate. Rodmond, in many a scene of peril tried, Had oft the master's happier skill descried, Yet now, the hour, the scene, th' occasion known, Blunt was his specch, and naked was his heart: 'Too true the perils of the present hour, Where toils succeeding toils our strength o'erpower! Yet whither can we turn, what road pursue, With death before still opening on the view? Our bark, 'tis true, no shelter here can find, Sore shatter'd by the ruffian seas and wind; Yet with what hope of refuge can we flee, Chased by this tempest and outrageous sea? For while its violence the tempest keeps, Bereft of every sail we roam the deeps; At random driven, to present death we haste, And one short hour perhaps may be our last. In vain the Gulf of Corinth on our lee Now opens to her ports a passage free; Since, if before the blast the vessel flies, Full in her track unnumber'd dangers rise. Here Falconera spreads her lurking snares; There distant Greece her rugged shelves prepares; Should once her bottom strike that rocky shore, The splitting bark that instant were no more; Nor she alone, but with her all the crew, Beyond relief, were doom'd to perish too. Thus if to scud too rashly we consent, Too late in fatal hour we may repent. "Then of our purpose this appears the To weigh the danger with a doubtful hope, Though sorely buffeted by every sea, Our hull unbroken long may try a-lee, The crew, though harass'd long with toils severe, Still at their pumps perceive no hazards near. Shall we, incautious then, the dangers tell, At once their courage and their hopes to quell! Prudence forbids!-This southern tempest soon May change its quarter with the changing moon : Its rage though terrible may soon subside, Nor into mountains lash th' unruly tide. scope, "With fix'd attention, pondering in my mind The dark distresses on each side combined; While here we linger in the pass of Fate, I see no moment left for sad debate. For, some decision if we wish to form, Ere yet our vessel sink beneath the storm, Her shattered state, and yon desponding crew, At once suggest what measures to pursue. The labouring hull already seems half-fill'd With waters, through a hundred leaks distill'd, As in a dropsy, wallowing with her freight, Half-drown'd she lies, a dead inactive weight! Thus drenched by every wave, her riven deck, Stript and defenceless, floats a naked wreck ; Her wounded flanks no longer can sustain These fell invasions of the bursting main: At every pitch th' o'erwhelming billows bend, Beneath their load, the quivering bowsprit end. A fearful warning! since the masts on high On that support with trembling hope rely. At either pump our seamen pant for breath, In dark dismay anticipating death. Still all our powers th' increasing leaks defy: We sink at sea, no shore, no haven nigh. One dawn of hope yet breaks athwart the gloom; To light and save us from the watery tomb; That bids us shun the death impending here; Fly from the following blast, and shoreward steer "Tis urged indeed, the fury of the gale Precludes the help of every guiding sail; And, driven before it on the watery waste, To rocky shores and scenes of death we haste. But haply Falconera we may shun: And far to Grecian coasts is yet the run: Less harass'd then, our scudding ship may bear Th' assaulting surge repell'd upon her rear. E'en then the wearied storm as soon shall die, Or less torment the groaning pines on high. Should we at last be driven by dire decree Too near the fatal margin of the sea, The hull dismasted there awhile may ride, With lengthen'd cables on the raging tide. Perhaps kind Heaven, with interposing power, May curb the tempest ere that dreadful hour. But here ingulf'd and foundering while we stay, 66 These leaks shall then decrease: the sails once Fate hovers o'er, and marks us for her prey." more Direct our course to some relieving shore." Thus while he spoke around froin man to man, At either pump, a hollow murmur ran. For while the vessel through unnumber'd chinks, Above, below, th' invading water drinks, Sounding her depth, they eyed the wetted scale, And, lo! the leak o'er all their powers prevail, Yet in their post, by terrors unsubdued, They with redoubled force their task pursued. And now the senior pilots seem'd to wait Arion's voice to close the dark debate. Though many a bitter storm, with peril fraught, In Neptune's school the wandering stripling taught, He said; Palemon saw, with grief of heart: Not twice nine summers yet matured his thought. Far hence the music of the myrtle grove. So oft he bled by Fortune's cruel dart, It fell at last innoxious on his heart. His mind still shunning care with secret hate, With Comfort's soothing voice, from Hope derived, For Consolation oft, with healing art, Now had the pilots all th' events revolved, And on their final refuge thus resolved: When, like the faithful shepherd, who beholds -Unhappy partners in a wayward fate! The seas that thunder o'er her batter'd side; At once to wear and scud before the wind.* But, if determined by the will of Heaven, And first, let all our axes be secured, To cut the masts and rigging from aboard. Then to the quarters bind each plank and oar, To float between the vessel and the shore. The longest cordage, too, must be convey'd On deck, and to the weather rails belay'd; So they, who haply reach alive the land, Th' extended lines may fasten on the strand, Whene'er, loud thundering on the leeward shore, While yet aloof we hear the breakers roar. Thus for the terrible event prepared, Brace fore and aft to starboard every yard; So shall our masts swim lighter on the wave, And from the broken rocks our seamen save. Then westward turn the stem, that every mast May shoreward fall, when from the vessel cast.When o'er her side once more the billows bound, Ascend the rigging till she strikes the ground: And when you hear aloft th' alarming shock That strikes her bottom on some pointed rock, The boldest of our sailors must descend, The dangerous business of the deck to tend; Then each, secured by some convenient cord, Should cut the shrouds and rigging from the board; Let the broad axes next assail each mast; And booms, and oars, and rafts, to leeward cast. Thus, while the cordage stretch'd ashore may guide Our brave companions through the swelling tide, This floating lumber shall sustain them, o'er The rocky shelves, in safety to the shore. But as your firmest succour, till the last, O cling securely on each faithful mast! Though great the danger, and the task severe, Yet bow not to the tyranny of fear! If once that slavish yoke your spirits quell, Adieu to hope! to life itself farewell! "I know, among you some full oft have view'd, With murdering weapons arm'd, a lawless brood, On England's vile inhuman shore who stand, The foul reproach and scandal of our land! To rob the wanderers wreck'd upon the strand. These, while their savage office they pursue, Oft wound to death the helpless plunder'd crew, Who 'scaped from every horror of the main, Implored their mercy, but implored in vain. But dread not this!-a crime to Greece unknown Such blood-hounds all her circling shores disown. Her sons, by barbarous tyranny opprest, Can share affliction with the wretch distrest: Their hearts, by cruel fate inured to grief, Oft to the friendless stranger yield relief." With conscious horror struck, the naval band Detested for a while their native land; They cursed the sleeping vengeance of the laws, That thus forgot her guardian sailors' cause. Meanwhile the master's voice again they heard, Whom, as with filial duty, all revered. No more remains-but now a trusty band Must ever at the pump industrious stand: And while with us the rest attend to wear, Two skilful seamen to the helm repair!O Source of Life! our refuge and our stay' Whose voice the warring elements obey, On thy supreme assistance we rely ; Thy mercy supplicate, if doom'd to die! Perhaps this storm is sent, with healing breath, From neighbouring shores to scourge disease and deach! 'Tis ours on thine unerring laws to trust: With thee, great Lord! Whatever is, is just.'" He said; and with consenting reverence fraught Still in the yawning trough the vessel reels, That the reader, who is unacquainted with the manœuvres of navigation, may conceive a clearer idea of a ship's state when trying, and of the change of her situ ation to that of scudding, I have quoted a part of the ex planation of those articles as they appear in the "Dic. tionary of the Marine." Trying is the situation in which a ship lies nearly in the trough or hollow of the sea in a tempest, particularly when it blows contrary to her course. In trying as well as in scudding, the sails are always *For an explanation of these manoeuvres, the reader reduced in proportion to the increase of the storm; and is referred to the last note of this Canto. in either state, if the storm is excessive, she may have C |