LETTER THE FIFTY-THIRD.

Sail in the Tyrian

The Pilote The shore

Alligator

"Paso de

Panuco Doña Cecilia" - Tampico - Spanish consul's house - Society Navigation Banks of the Panuco Extraordinary inoculation - The "Glorieta" - Leave Tampico-Furious norther - Voyage Arrival at Havana.

ON BOARD H. B. M. PACKET TYRIAN, 15th.

On the 8th, having taken leave of the family of our friend, Señor Velasco, and of General Bustamante, whom we hope to see again in Havana, we went out in a little boat, accompanied as far as the packet by several gentlemen, and in a short time were standing on deck, looking our last of Vera Cruz and its sandbanks, and sopilotes and frowning castle, as the shores gradually receded from our view, while the Tyrian was making the best of her time to get clear of reefs and rocks, before the arrival of the norther. We regretted to find, that instead of being one of the new line of English packets, the Tyrian was the last of the old line; small, ancient and incommodious, and destined to be paid off on her return to England. Captain Griffin, the commander, who looks like an excellent, gentlemanly man, is in wretched health, and in a state of acute suffering. There were no passengers but ourselves, and a young Mexican, guilt

less of any acquaintance with salt water, up to this date.

The very next morning, out burst the norther, and with loud howling swept over the ocean, which rose and tossed to meet the coming storm. Surely no wind ever had a voice so wildly mournful. How the good ship rolled, and groaned, and creaked and strained her old timber joints! What rocking, thumping, falling, banging of heads at the low entry of the cabin! Water falling into berths, people rolling out of them. What fierce music at night, as the wind, like a funeral dirge, swept over the ocean, the rain falling in torrents, and the sky covered with one dark, lugubrious pall! And how lonely our ship seemed on the world of waters!

But the next day, the storm waxed fiercer still, and the night was worse than the day. The waves that dashed over the deck, made their way into the cabin. At one time, we thought the ship had struck, and even the Captain believed that a mast had fallen. It was only a huge wave that broke over the deck with a sound like thunder, drowning the wretched hens and ducks, who little thought, when they left their comfortable English poultry-yard, they were destined to be drowned off Tampico -and drenching the men. Our little lamp, after swinging to and fro for some time, went out, and left the cabin in darkness. Impossible to sleep of course, and for the first time at sea, I confess to having felt afraid. Each time that the ship rolled upon her side on the slope of a huge billow, it seemed impossible that she could ever right again, or that she could avoid receiving the

NORTHERS OFF TAMPICO.

407

whole contents of the next great watery mountain that came roaring on.

On the morning of the eleventh there was still no abatement of the storm. All was dark and dreary. The norther continued to blow with unrelenting fierceness, and the ship to rock and roll amongst a tumult of foaming billows. The nights in this pitch darkness seemed interminable. The berths being constantly filled with water, we dragged our mattresses on the floor, and lay there wishing for the dawn. But the dawn brought no relief. The wind howled on like a fierce wild beast, roaring for its prey. I had made my way every day up stairs, and by dint of holding on, and with a chair tied with strong ropes, had contrived to sit on deck. But this day, I retreated under cover behind the helmsman, when, lo! a large wave burst over the ship, found me out in my retreat, and nearly throwing down several stout sailors in its way, gave me the most complete salt water bath I have had since I left New York. All that night we were tossed about in storm and dark

ness.

On the thirteenth the wailing of the norther grew fainter, and towards night it died away. On the fourteenth it veered round, and the coast of Tamaulipas appeared in sight, faintly.

This morning opened with a slight norther; nevertheless, they have hung out the packet flag and cast anchor, in expectation of the pilot boat. Meanwhile, all is at a stand-still, morally speaking, for we are rolling so, that it is scarce possible to write comprehensibly. We see the sad-looking shores of Tampi

co, long, low and sandy, though to the south stretching out into gloomy, faintly-seen woods. We can distinguish the distant yellow sand and the white surf breaking furiously over the bar. The day is gloomy, but not cold. A slight rain accompanies the light north wind. Sea gulls are flying in circles round the ship and skimming the surface of the waves. The master looks impatient and anxious, and prognosticates another week of northers. sels, they say, have been detained here thirty days, and some even three months! No notice is taken of our signal-a sign that the bar is impassable. 16th. The ship has rolled and pitched all night, and to-day we remain in the same predicament.

Ves

TAMPICO, 18th.

Yesterday morning the wind was much lighter, and a pilot boat came out early, in which the captain set off with his despatches; and we being assured that we might cross the ominous bar in safety, hired a boat for forty dollars, with ten sailors and a pilot, too glad at the prospect of touching the solid earth, even for one day. Having got into this boat, and being rowed out to the bar, we found that there the sea was very high, even though the day was calm. The numerous wrecks that have taken place here have given this bar a decidedly bad reputation. Great precaution is necessary in crossing it, constant sounding, and calm weather. It is formed by a line of sand hills under the water, whose northern point crosses that to the southward, and across which there is a passage, whose position varies with the shifting

sands, so that the pilots are chiefly guided by the surf.

Perched upon a sand bank was a regiment of enormous white pelicans, of thoughtful and sage-like physiognomy, ranged in a row, as if to watch how we passed the bar. Over many a drowning crew they have screamed their wild sea-dirge, and flapped their great white wings. But we crossed in safety, and in a few minutes more the sea and the bar were behind us, and we were rowing up the wide and placid river Panuco an agreeable change. We stopped at the house of the comandante, a large, tall individual, who marched out and addressed us in English, and proved to be a native of the United States.

We stopped at a collection of huts, to let our sailors breakfast, where there is the house of a celebrated character, Don Leonardo Mata, a colossal old pilot, but who was from home at present. We amused ourselves by wandering along the beach of the river and making a collection of beautiful shells, which we left at the old pilot's house, to be kept there till our return. A sort of garden, attached to the house, is appropriately ornamented with the figure-head and anchor from a wreck. We got into our boat again and glided along the shores, on one side low and marshy, with great trees lying in the water; on the other also low, but thickly wooded and with valuable timber, such as logwood and ebony, together with cedars, India-rubber trees, limes, lemons, &c. On the bare trunk of a great tree, half buried in the water, sat an amiable-looking alligator,