"In the midst of this scene Captain Church was perfectly calm, and not only directed with clearness the movements of his ship, but endeavoured to keep order among the passengers, by indicating the only available means of escape" (p. 187).

Seaton impressed upon the officers the necessity of keeping order and silence among the men, and directed Captain Wright, of the 91st Regiment, to take and have executed whatever orders the commander might give him. Sixty men were immediately put on to the chain-pumps on the lower after-deck, and told off in three reliefs; sixty men were put on to the tackles of the paddle-box boats; and the remainder of the men were brought on to the poop, so as to ease the forepart of the ship. In perfect silence, in calm, manly self-possession, without hesitation, the orders were given and received. For the space of twenty minutes the men worked or waited at their appointed places, while efforts were successfully made to get the women and children safely into the cutter. Almost immediately after they were out of the ship the entire bow broke off at the foremast, the bowsprit going up in the air towards the foretopmast, while the funnel went over the side, carrying away the starboard paddle-box and boat. In the midst of these crushing disasters every man remained at his post unmoved; not a word of murmur or complaint, not a sign of insubordination, but in all that calm courage which can look on death undaunted. With the fall of the funnel, all the men who had been put on to the tackles were crushed, and died like men. With the breaking off of the bow, those who were at that end of the ship were by word of command ordered on to the poop; but five minutes had not elapsed before the vessel broke in two crosswise, just abaft the engineroom, and the stern part immediately filled and went down, and the unfortunate men were left to struggle with the billows, or cling to the rigging, or sink helplessly beneath the waves. While all the excitement was prevailing on deck, the men and officers who had been placed at the pumps remained faithful to their post, working with desperate energy, but with perfect regularity and order, until the vessel broke up, and then, before they had time to reach the deck, they went down with the doomed ship.

Captain Wright, of the 91st Regiment, one of the survivors, in reporting the circumstances of the catastrophe, said :-"The order and regularity that prevailed on board, from the time the ship struck till she totally disappeared, far exceeded anything that I thought could be effected by the best discipline, and it is the more to be wondered at, seeing that most of the soldiers were but a short time in the service. Every one did as he was directed, and there was not a murmur or a cry amongst them until the vessel made her final plunge. I could not name any individual officer more than another. All received their orders, and had them carried out, as if the men were embarking instead of going to the bottom; there was only this difference, that I never saw any embarkation conducted with so little noise and confusion.”

One incident in the catastrophe is very touching. When the vessel was just about going down, the commander cried out, "All those that can swim, jump overboard and make for the boats." Captain Wright and Lieutenant Girardot, who were standing on the stern part of the poop, saw at once that if this were done the boats in which were the women and children would inevitably be swamped. They called out therefore to the men, begging them not to act on the suggestion of the commander; and although a great crowd of men were there, each holding life as precious as any other living being, when they saw what the consequence would be, they desisted, and went down with the ship, only three out of the whole number making the attempt.

DISCIPLINE ON BOARD THE "KENT."

191

So perished nine officers and 349 men, British troops, besides the crew of the vessel; and of every man who that day perished at the post of duty it may be said—he was a hero.

Scarcely less intrepid was the conduct of the troops on board the ill-fated ship, the Kent. They, too, in the midst of appalling danger, behaved like gallant soldiers, and in the performance of their duty, which consisted in obedience to orders, displayed heroic courage and fortitude.

At midnight on the 28th of February, 1827, in the midst of a terrific gale, a spiritcask was stove in, and some of the fluid coming in contact with a naked light, the whole of that part of the hold was in a blaze. For a time it was thought that the fire would not spread beyond that part, and as there were plenty of water-casks close at hand, hope was entertained that the flames would be extinguished. Soon, however, dense clouds of smoke arose, ascending through all the four hatchways; the cry was raised, "The flames have reached the cable tier," and it was beyond doubt that the gallant ship was on fire.

There were on board a crew of 148 men, including officers, 344 soldiers, 20 officers, 43 women, 60 children, and 20 private passengers, making a total of 635 souls. As the smoke spread and the cry of "Fire" was heard, this multitude of people rose hastily from their berths, and, without waiting to dress, poured up on deck, while those who from sickness or fear remained below, perished in the suffocating smoke which soon filled the ship.

Captain Cobb, the commander, displayed, in the midst of the terrible circumstances in which he found himself placed, an ability and heroic courage which increased with the imminence of the danger. With perfect coolness he resorted to the only alternative left him, and gave his orders for the lower deck to be scuttled, the combing of the hatches to be cut, and the lower ports to be opened for the free admission of the waves. By the united efforts of the soldiers and seamen these instructions were soon executed, and the sea rushed in with resistless rapidity, carrying with it in its progress to the hold the largest chests and bulkheads.

Then came the terrible hour of suspense. On the one hand stood death by fire, on the other death by water; and preferring always the more remote alternative, the unfortunate crew were at one moment attempting to check the fire by means of water, and when the water became the more threatening enemy they turned their efforts to the exclusion of the waves, and left the fire to rage with all its fury. Nobly did soldiers and sailors work while there was work to be done, and calmly they waited when all hope had gone; some of the old and stout-hearted sailors, indeed, quietly seated themselves over the powder magazine in the hope that the explosion they were momentarily expecting might put a speedier termination to their trials.

When affairs were at the very worst, and not a ray of hope was left in the most sanguine heart, there came a cry from the foretop, "A sail on the lee bow!" Three ringing cheers rose from the deck, canvas was crowded on in order to bear down on the stranger, preparations were made for getting out the boats, and soon the Cambria, a small brig, was within hailing distance.

Major M'Gregor and Colonel Fearon were discussing the means of getting off the

erew, when the former was asked by one of the officers in what way it was intended the officers should move off.

"Of course the funeral order," replied the Major.

"Most undoubtedly," added Colonel Fearon, "the juniors first; but see that any man is cut down who presumes to enter the boats before the women and children.” No man made the attempt. Calmly they waited through the long wearisome time; patiently they witnessed the trying little delays in embarkation, which seemed to cut off their last chance of escape; bravely they watched the steady progress of the devouring flames. At last their turn came, and then as orderly as if on church parade they passed down one by one without crowding or excitement, and in perfect silence. "When the greater part of the men had been disposed of, the gradual removal of the officers commenced, and was marked by a discipline the most rigid, and an intrepidity the most exemplary; none appearing to be influenced by a vain and ostentatious bravery, which, in cases of extreme peril, affords rather a presumptive proof of secret timidity than manly fortitude; nor any betraying of unsoldierlike impatience to quit the ship; but, with the becoming deportment of men, neither paralysed by the accumulating dangers that surrounded them, nor profoundly insensible to the awful peril of their situation, they progressively departed with the soldiers in the different boats; those who happened to proceed first leaving behind an example of coolness that could not be unprofitable to those who followed."*

Captain Cobb laboured through that fatal night with an energy that has been rarely equalled, either in its duration or difficulty. The whole burden fell on his shoulders, but he was as calm as if he had spent most of his life on blazing vessels. In every place where fresh directions were necessary he was there to give them, and his presence and pluck Inspired confidence in all on board. He had resolved to be the last to leave the ship, but there were a few on board who seemed struck dumb and powerless with dismay, and refused to yield to his untiring entreaties to enter the boats. He remained with them until the explosion in the hold told him that there was not a moment to lose, and then with a last appeal to the terror-stricken ones, he laid hold of the topping lift, or rope that connects the driver-boom with the mizzen top, and thereby getting over the heads of the infatuated men who occupied the boom, dropped himself into the sea, when he was picked up by a boat and conveyed on board the Cambria.

Instances might be multiplied almost indefinitely of the heroism of our soldiers and sailors in circumstances of extreme peril, and we think that in those already cited, especially in the case of the soldiers on board the Birkenhead, there was fully as much valour in remaining faithfully at their post of duty until death overtook them, as there was in the stirring action and excitement of the Balaclava charge, when

An instance of marvellous

"Into the jaws of death,

Into the mouth of hell,

Rode the Six Hundred!"

presence of mind, displayed by an every-day hero, is recorded by Sir William Cope in his "History of the Rifle Brigade." On the 9th

* 66 Shipwrecks and Disasters at Sea.".

of July, 1866, a railway van 'containing 2,000 lbs. of ammunition, on its way from Quebec to Kingston, under charge of a sergeant and a guard of the 1st Battalion. Rifle Brigade, was discovered to be on fire on reaching Danville Station. It had been ignited by a spark from the engine. The van was immediately shoved down the line

away from the station, and the alarm given.

The people living in the vicinity fled from their houses in fear of the explosion. But Private Timothy O'Hea, one of the guard, was by no means disposed to leave the van with its terrible freight without an effort to save it, and perchance avert a fearful calamity. He ran down to the van, forced open the door, removed the covering from the ammunition, discovered the source of the fire, hastened to get water, and dashing it with well-directed aim kept it under, and eventually succeeded in extinguishing the flames. It is impossible to conceive a more