ency of the weather. The survivors contrived to cut a
hole in the side of the deck which was above water, through which they
crept below, one by one, to seek protection from the cold. During the
day, some boats attempted to put out to their assistance, but the sea
ran so high that it was impossible to approach the wreck. The unhappy
crew, disappointed in their hopes of relief, endeavoured to launch the
boats; but these were so encased in ice, that they resembled large
blocks of marble, and it was impossible to move them. In the course of
the night the wind and sea abated, and the Danes succeeded in
rescuing the people of the Pandora from their perilous situation, but
not before twenty-nine had perished from the intense cold.

The month of November, 1811, was most disastrous to the Baltic Fleet.
The British ships of war had already suffered so severely from
attempting the dangerous navigation of the Northern Seas too late in
the year, that the commander-in-chief on the station received orders
on no account to delay the departure of the last homeward-bound convoy
beyond the 1st of November. In obedience to these instructions,
Rear-Admiral Reynolds sailed with a convoy from Hano on that day,
having hoisted his broad pendant on board the St. George, of 98 guns,
Captain Daniel Oliver Guion; but owing to severe gales he was
compelled to put back on three several occasions, and the weather did
not permit him finally to leave the anchorage until the 12th of the
month. On the 15th the St George and convoy arrived off the Island of
Zealand, where they anchored to wait for a favourable wind, having met
with very rough weather in their passage from Hano, and several of the
convoy having foundered, without its being possible for the others to
render them the least assistance. In the course of the night of the
15th the wind increased to a hurricane, and all hands on board the St.
George were summoned to give the ship cable. Before this could be
accomplished the sea poured through the hawse-holes, carried
everything away, and rendered it impossible for many of the men to
stand to their duty. They were still in the act of veering away the
cable, when a large merchant vessel, which had been seen looming
through the darkness, drifted down upon them, its hull coming
violently in collision with the bows of the St. George, and severing
her cables;--one piercing shriek followed,--the merchantman gave a
lurch, and the next instant was engulfe