It is a most melancholy coincidence that the very night, and about the same hour, these lines were penned (Dec. 24th, 1852), a vessel, name unknown, was wrecked, not far from my dwelling—the whole crew lost! Contracted must be the mind, and cold the heart, that can find nothing in these sad catastrophes to awaken its feelings. How many brave crews leave their respective ports, never to return! And, alas! how many of these, departing from under our eye, to appear at the bar of God, cast back upon us, from the shores of that untried world, upbraiding looks, because we cared not for their souls. On Saturday, Feb. 26, 1853, this locality was visited with a most terrific gale of wind from the North West, which, during the time it lasted, was the most violent that has been in the recollection of the oldest inhabitant. The sea raged with immense fury, and carried away many hundred feet of the staging, both at the Soldier’s Point and Salt Island, strewing immense balks of timber along the shore, all round the bay in every direction. But amid all this destruction, occasioned by “elemental strife,” the Rendall Breakwater, that is, the deposited stones, defied the mountain wave, and became the more solidified by the mighty seas which swept over it. The crew of the first vessel consisted of people of various nations; and some of them continued a considerable time at Penrhos. The erratum has been applied in this eBook.—DP. |
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