Her commander, Captain John Hunter, however, with undaunted fortitude,
continued to animate the crew with hope, and encouraged them to acts
of further perseverance, with the same calmness and self-possession as
if he were simply conducting the ordinary duties of his ship. From
the moment the ship struck, not the least alteration took place in his
looks, words, or manner; and everything that the most able and
experienced seaman could suggest was done, but in vain. On signals of
distress being made, H.M. cutter Frisk, Lieutenant Nicholson,
immediately stood towards her, and hailing to know in what manner she
could be useful, was requested to anchor as near as possible to
receive the crew, with which her commander immediately complied,
assisted by the boats of the Goliath and Impetueux.

All hope of saving the Venerable being now abandoned, the only object
that remained was to preserve the lives of the crew, who were told to
provide for their own safety on board the boats which had been sent to
their assistance, the captain and officers declaring their intention
of remaining on board till all the men had quitted the wreck.

At this time the sea ran tremendously high, and the men lowered
themselves into the boats from the stern, this being the only
accessible part of the ship. Most anxious was the situation of the
officers and men who were left, during the absence of the boats. Many
gave up all hopes of rescue, for every time the boats approached the
ship, the attempt became more and more dangerous. The night still
continued dark and foggy, with driving sleet and violent gusts of
wind, which seemed to freshen every hour. In this forlorn and dismal
state, the officers continued on the outside of the ship (for she was
nearly on her beam ends), encouraging the men, and affording every
assistance for their escape on board the boats.