To a stout bulwark, of stupendous size,
'Till launch'd at last, capacious of the freight,
He left her to the pilots, and her fate.
First, from her depths the tapering masts ascend,
On whose tall bulk the transverse yards depend,
By shrouds and stays secur'd from side to side
Trees grew on trees, suspended o'er the tide :
Firm to the yards extended, broad and vast,
They hung the sails, susceptive of the blast,
Far o'er the prow the lengthy bowsprit lay,
Supporting on the extreme the taut fore-stay,
Twice ten six pounder, at their port holes plac'd,
And rang'd in rows, stood hostile in the waist :
Thus all prepar'd, impatient for the seas,
She left her station with an adverse breeze,
This her first outset from her native shore,
To seas a stranger, and untry'd before."

The ship finished, Philip named her "The Aurora," and on her broad prow she carried for a figurehead the rising sun, so brightly gilded as, quoting his words, to "throw over the water a mimic blaze." Poor sun, destined to set before it ran its course!

Delaware Bay, although admitting the largest vessels to its head, and even into the river beyond, had a very tortuous and intricate channel, occasioned by the numerous shoals formed by long, narrow sandbanks stretching northwest and southeast, which nearly filled the central portion. It was therefore something of a feat to guide a good-sized vessel through it and round the cape, the shelving ground around the latter causing it to be fatal to those unacquainted with its peculiarities. It was renowned for shipwrecks; so much so that captains felt greatly relieved when they had safely left it behind them.

On the 25th of May the "Aurora,' daughter of the sun," with all sails spread to catch the breeze, which at starting was adverse, passed gaily down the river, and

through the sixty miles of Delaware Bay, and waited for morning to round the point called by the old Swede settlers the "Point of Paradise," by the more prosaic modern Americans, Cape Henlopen. During her progress down the bay an event occurred which was considered by the crew a prognostic of future success, but which was, in reality, the cause of the "Aurora's" disaster. Overtaking a small sloop belonging to the enemy and laden with corn, the details incident to its capture prevented the "Aurora" from rounding the point the same evening, and thus caused the delay so fatal to her.

The morning was beautiful; and, assisted by a favorable breeze, the cape was successfully passed, and the "Aurora" made her début on the broad ocean, where "a sea unruffled and a sky serene" awaited her All seemed propitious; and spreading the sails, her prow was turned eastward, then to the southeast.

The sun crossed the meridian, and a gale springing up it bore the light-hearted master and crew out of the sight of the misty line of hilltops, which seemed to sink beneath the waves. Toward afternoon, a seaman was ordered to go aloft, to see peradventure if any prey, in the form of an English merchantman, might be in sight.

The tar returned and reported a ship approaching very rapidly from the east; which soon became visible to all. The master used his glass, and from her topgallant spied the English Jack; and soon after he recognized her to be the "Iris," once the " Hancock," one of the swiftest ships on the American station, and one that had made the fortunes of every one that had ever commanded her save the last;1 he had lost her in consequence of having put her out of trim, by starting her water while chased by the " Rainbow," commanded by Sir George Collier, who finally captured her.

1 Captain Manly.

"Her lofty masts stood bending to the gale,
Close to the wind was brac'd each shivering sail;
Her spangled bottom seem'd in flames to glow.

With all her might she strove to gain our tack,
Nor strove in vain - with pride and power elate,
Wing'd on by winds, she drove us to our fate.
No stop, no stay her bloody crew intends.
So flies a comet with its host of fiends,
Nor oaths, nor prayers arrest her swift career,
Death in her front, and ruin in her rear."

Knowing the futility of attempting to hold their own against such odds, - the vessel carrying guns double the size of theirs, - the officer gave orders to change the course of the "Aurora" and steer for the land, their only safety lying in flight.

"Struck at the sight, the master gave command

To change our course, and steer toward the land
Straight to the task the ready sailors run,

And while the word was utter'd, half was done;
As, from the south, the fiercer breezes rise
Swift from her foe alarm'd Aurora flies,
With every sail extended to the wind
She fled the unequal foe that chas'd behind.
Along her decks, dispos'd in close array,
Each at its port, the grim artillery lay,
Soon on the foe with brazen throat to roar;
But, small their size, and narrow was their bore;
Yet, faithful, they their destin'd station keep

To guard the barque that wafts them o'er the deep,
Who now must bend to steer a homeward course
And trust her swiftness rather than her force,
Unfit to combat with a powerful foe,-

Her decks too open and her waist too low."

Land appears, most welcome sight! The Point of Paradise looms up before them; but near and nearer presses on the foe, intent upon the "Aurora's"

ruin. Listen to the boatswain's prayer-it, like most such prayers, fell back upon the head of its

maker :

"List, all ye powers that rule the skies and seas!
Shower down perdition on such thieves as these,
Winds, daunt their hearts with terror and dismay,
And sprinkle on their powder salt sea spray!
May bursting cannon, while his aim he tries,
Distract the gunner, and confound his eyes -
May they who rule the round-top's giddy height
Be canted headlong to perpetual night;

May fiends torment them on a leeward coast,

And help forsake them when they want it most."

Freneau, in his poem entitled "The Prison Ship," from which we have been quoting, beautifully compares the flight of the "Aurora," and the pursuit of the "Iris," to the flight of Hector pursued by Achilles round the walls of Troy :

"The Frigate, now, had every sail unfurl'd,

And rush'd tremendous o'er the watery world;
Thus fierce Pelides, eager to destroy,

Chas'd the proud Trojan to the gates of Troy
Swift o'er the wave while, hostile, they pursue,
As swiftly from their fangs Aurora flew."

The Point of Paradise gained, all efforts to take the ill-fated vessel ashore were vain; a sudden calm caused the sails to droop. Meanwhile the foe had advanced within range of shot, and pointed her guns.

"Rang'd her black cannon, pointed on our lee,
Then up she luff'd, and blaz'd her entrails dire,
Bearing destruction, terror, death and fire.
Vext at our fate, we prim'd a piece, and then
Return'd the shot, to show them we were men."

Night fell; even the shoals in this sad extremity would have been a welcome risk, but

"Fate stood between, and barr'd us from the land."

"

Already becalmed and helpless, the ebbing current bore the doomed "Aurora into the power of her enemy, who

"Flash'd her red lightnings o'er the trembling flood."

At every flash untold mischief ensued, and

"Mad for revenge, our breasts with fury glow
To wreak returns of vengeance on the foe;
Full at his hull our pointed guns we rais'd,
His hull resounded as the cannon blaz'd;
Through his broad sails while some a passage tore,
His sides re-echo'd to the dreadful roar,
Alternate fires dispell'd the shades of night-
But how unequal was this daring fight!"

While shouting defiance to the foe, Laboyteaux, the captain of the marines, fell staining the deck with his heart's blood. Another blast tore the shrouds, stays. and braces away; while through the air flew the fragments of sails, blocks, and oars, and the "Aurora" shook from stem to stern. The elements seemed to vie with each other in working the doom of the ill-fated vessel; earth receded from her grasp; and the wind, rising, filled the sails of the "Iris" and blew it close and closer upon her prey; the fire tore open her sides, into whose wounds the water gurgled to complete the work of destruction; and slowly the doomed vessel began to sink, and there was naught left but to submit or die.

"'T was then the Master trembled for his crew,
And bade thy shores, O Delaware, adieu!.
And must we yield to yon' destructive ball,
And must our colors to these ruffians fall!