"Of course in funeral order, the juniors first,"
was the brave reply.

"And see," said Colonel Fearon, "that any
man is instantly cut down who presumes to enter
the boats before the women and children."

The soldiers and sailors were already looking
with wild and hungry eyes at the boats; a
maddened rush seemed certain. The officers
at once drew their swords, and stood by the
starboard cuddy-port where the cutter hung.

The ladies and soldiers' wives were to go in
the first boat. At about half-past two (four hours
and a half from the breaking out of the fire),
the women, hastily wrapped up, moved in a
mournful procession from the after cabins to
the cuddy-port. Amid the unutterable anguish
of that sudden and, as it seemed, eternal parting,
not a word or scream was uttered; even the
infants ceased to cry, as if in emulation of their
parents' courage. Only in one or two cases
ladies plaintively entreated permission to die
with their husbands; but on being told that
every moment's delay cost a human life, they
one by one tore themselves from their husbands'
embraces, and were placed, without a murmur, in
the boat, which was instantly lowered into a most
dangerous and tempestuous sea. Twice, indeed,
there came a cry from the chains that the boat
was swamping. Captain Cobb, dreading this
lowering — always a difficult work — had wisely
placed a man with an axe to cut the tackle, if
there was the slightest difficulty in unhooking it.

The order was given to " unhook," but the
bow-ropes fouled, and the axe would not clear
them. The moment was critical. The boat
foilowed the motion of the ship, and in another
instant would have been hanging perpendicularly
by the bow, when just then a wave lifted
up the stern, and enabled the quick seaman to
disengage the tackle. The boat, dexterously
cleared, launched out upon the waves, now a
speck on the crest, now disappearing in the
dark valleys between the billows.

The Cambria lay prudently at some distance
from the Kent, dreading an explosion or the
fire of her shotted guns, and the men had far
to row. To better balance the boat, and to give
the men freer play for their oars, the women and
children were stowed close together under the
seats, so exposed to the spray that they were
soon breast-high in water, and the children all
but drowned. It was a half-hour of dreadful
anxiety for those on board the Kent.

There was still great difficulty and danger
in getting the passengers on board the
Cambria. "The children first," was the cry, and
they were at once thrown up or handed
from the boat. The women were then urged
to avail themselves of every friendly lift of
a wave to spring into the friendly arms held
out for them. Only one lady came short in
leaping, and would have certainly perished
had she not caught a rope hanging over the
Cambria's side, and saved herself till she could
be dragged aboard. So great was the joy and
gratitude among the husbands on board the
Kent on seeing the safety of their wives and
children, that they for a time seemed to forget
the storm over their heads and the fiery volcano
beneath their feet.

As the Cambria's boats could no longer get
alongside in such a heavy sea, it was determined
to tie a child to every woman, and to lower
them by ropes from the stern. The heaving of
the vessel, and the extreme difficulty of lowering
at the moment the boat was underneath,
rendered it impossible to prevent plunging the
poor creatures repeatedly into the water. No
woman was lost, but the younger children
nearly all perished from cold and exhaustion.
The women wept silently over their dead children,
half paralysed with the agony of their
fear, and the anguish of the recent parting.
Now the deaths grew more frequent, as the
excitement and hurry increased, and the sun
began to set, as if cruelly withdrawing his light
from their great misery.

Amid this conflict of feelings and passions,
roused to the utmost, many affecting episodes
of parental and filial affection and of generous
and unselfish friendship occurred. At that
moment even the sourest cynic would have owned
that human hearts are not all bad. Death began
to claim his victims with terrible rapidity. Two
or three soldiers, to relieve their wives of
the care of several of their children, sprang
into the water with them, and instantly
perished. One young lady, who had hitherto
absolutely refused to quit her father at his post, was
not saved by the boats till she had sunk five or
six times. Another soldier, having the horrible
alternative of losing his wife or his four children,
saved his wife, and was compelled to leave his
four children to the fire. A fine young soldier,
having no wife nor children of his own, insisted
on having three children lashed to him, and
flung himself into the water to try and reach
the boat. He, however, failed, and was again
drawn into the ship, but not till two of the
children were already dead. One man fell down
the hatchway headlong into the flames;
another broke his back and fell overboard; a
third slipped between the boat and the Cambria,
and had his head crushed to pieces; and several
other unfortunate men were lost in trying to
clamber too hastily into the brig.

Captain Cobb and Colonel Fearon now seeing
that it was risking the lives of all to delay
with the women alone, who, being weak and
terrified, took longer to escape, gave orders that
a certain regulated number of soldiers should
accompany each boat. Many soldiers, instantly
leaping overboard in their eagerness to escape,
were drowned in the general confusion. One
poor fellow was just raising his hand to lay hold
of the boat's gunwale, when the bow of the
boat gave a sudden pitch, struck him on the
head, and he sunk. This man's wife, to whom he
was warmly attached, had hidden herself in the
vessel at Deal, in order to accompany her
husband.

One of the sailors, who had placed himself
over the magazine, and there waited patiently
for the long-expected explosion, now leaped up