and be taken up dead in the morning; and the glasses, though thick, are sometimes broken by the birds.

There are two landing places for boats the one to the S. W. is made by nature, in such a manner that a frigate might lie in the harbour as in a dock; here are steps cut in the rock, and convenient means to haul up the boats. The N. E. harbour is not so compact. When boats approach the Caskets, signals are made to tell at which harbour they are to land: a blue flag directs t the S. W. and a red one to the N. E. Should a boat attempt to land, contrary to this signal, it would be totally lost, and all hands perish. It ought to be mentioned, that these landing places are only practicable for boats, in calm weather; and on the subject of signals, it should not be forgotten, that they have a telegraph, with which they communicate with Alderney. This telegraph shews, on the right hand in the plate, as a frame. Off these rocks, on Oct. 5, 1744, the Victory, of one hundred and ten guns, Admiral Sir John Balchen, with eleven hundred sailors and marines, foundered, and all on board perished. "The Caskets are steep, and clean, with twenty-five to thirty fathoms all round; a line-of-battle ship may lie alongside of them. Between the rocks to the westward and the lights, is deep water, and ships may pass along them all. 2 The velocity of the tide causes the sea to ripple, and the mariner might be alarmed, but all is safe and clean." Captain Deschamps concludes his observations, by asking "How many thousands of lives have been saved by these excellent lights." 3

1 Sailing Directions, p. 25, and Sarnian Monthly Magazine. 2 Sailing Directions, page 25.

3 It has been said, that in the year 1119, Henry, Duke of Normandy, son of Henry I, with many of the nobility, were overtaken by a dreadful storm, and lost near Alderney. There is, however, great doubt about this, as appears by Stow, and

other historians.

The following is Stow's account:-"This happened in 1120. King Henry having tamed the Frenchmen, and pacified Normandy, returned to England, in which voyage, William, Duke of Normandy, and Richard, his sons, and Mary, his daughter, Richard, Earl of Chester, and his wife, with many noblemen, and to the number of one hundred and sixty persons, were miserably drowned, the sea being calm."-Chronicle, page 183. Coote, in his History of England, vol. II, page 134, says, "that they embarked at Barfleur, on Nov. 26, 1120. The king, with a train of barons, arrived in England on the following morning. The prince, who was detained after his father's departure, set sail, at the close of the day, with a numerous company of youthful nobles; the mariners of his ship having indulged themselves, before they sailed, in immoderate drinking, were too disordered to pay proper attention to the discharge of their duty: the ship had not proceeded far, when the carelessness of the crew drove her against a rock. The whole loss amounted to nearly two hundred and fifty individuals, eighteen of whom were ladies of rank, fifty were seamen,; and the rest were either noblemen or knights, and their attendants." "A Russian man-ofwar was, notwithstanding these lights, lost here some years ago. This vessel was observed in the night, steering for the Caskets and Alderney. On passing through a narrow interstice in the ledge, so as to be clear of all dangers, she was seen to tack, apparently for the purpose of getting to the westward of the rock, when she struck, and every soul perished. These unfortunate persons are supposed, on entering the British Channel, to have first made these lights, and that in such a direction, as to keep two in one, thus mistaking them for the Lizard lights, until they came abreast of the rock, when they opened the third, found their error, and by endeavouring to extricate themselves, were precipitated into that destruction which the spectators thought they had so miraculously escaped."-Sarn. Mag. page 2.

“GIVE me any thing but a calm," said Captain Simon, as we approached this island at midnight, enveloped in a fog, and becalmed. "I had rather," said he, "have a stiff breeze, and then we could stem the currents, and weather these dangerous rocks." In this instance the Captain was certainly right, for we now had been driven almost close to these dreadful objects of terror, by the rapid tide and currents that surround the island, and from which we were preserved on the 26th of April, 1823, by a light breeze springing up. The moon at the same time peeping through the dark clouds and fog, discovered to us our imminent danger, which, thank God, we had the good fortune to escape.1

1 On Wednesday, November 11, 1825, about five o'clock in the morning, the Greek ship of war, Cimone, commanded by Captain Miaulis, was wrecked near Longy, on the eastern side of this island all the crew and great part of the property were saved. The character of the Aldernese having been opprobriously called in question, in the public prints of the day, it is but justice due to them to repel those atrocious observations, by authentic documents issued from the Royal Court of Guernsey, etc., which may be seen in the Appendix for Alderney. On

Alderney is the first of the islands seen coming from England, distant from the Caskets seven or eight miles, and about ten from the French coast, Cape La Hogue; twentyone miles from the harbour of the Braye, to the pier of Guernsey, and is situated in north latitude 49′ 44°, and longitude, 2' 25° west from Greenwich. The strait, or passage, on the east, which divides the island from Cape La Hogue, in Normandy, now in the departement de la Manche, is called by the French Le Ras de Blanchard, and by us the Race of Alderney. This, Deschamps tells us, is deep, and clear of danger, except for its violent tides in gales of wind; but I may add, it may be dangerous when Thursday evening, the 2d of February, 1826, the Weymouth mail packet Hinchinbrook, Captain Quirk, was also wrecked near Longy. So sudden was the shock, that the crew and passengers, twenty-three in number, had scarcely time to save themselves, and the mail bags, before she went down. There was but one lady on board, who was the only fortunate person in saving her trunk, which floated from the vessel, and was then picked up. It having been reported, that the crew had not conducted themselves as they should have done, an inquiry was entered into by the Royal Court of Guernsey, when their conduct was declared to be free from blame. It should be here remarked, that this is the first government packet that was ever wrecked, although they have regularly passed to Guernsey and Jersey three or four times a week, for nearly forty years. Since this, the total loss of His Majesty's packet Francis Freeling, Captain White, occurred in the night of Sept. 6, 1826. This melancholy event, it is supposed, was occasioned by the packet being run down during a tempestuous gale, by a Swedish brig, which encountered a vessel of the size of the packet, off Portland, and did not see her in time to avoid running her down. The darkness of the night, and the violence of the storm, rendered the exertions of the Swedes, to preserve the sufferers on board, ineffectual; and it is conjectured that the packet suddenly foundered, for she was never heard of more. Sixteen persons, including nine of the crew, perished. Captain White was not on board. A liberal subscription was entered into at Weymouth and Guernsey, for the relief of the widows and orphans of some of the sufferers.

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