to stand over the spirit-room hatch, with pistols,
until the smoke on the main-deck rendered the precaution
unnecessary, that not a single person was intoxicated,
and to this might be ascribed the order and regularity
which had prevailed during this trying scene.
But before one-third of the soldiers had descended
by the stern ladder, the fire burst out of the stern
windows with a violence that nothing could withstand;
spouts of vivid flame extended several feet from the
vessel, roaring with the force of a blow-pipe; at
the same time, the flames burst through all the after-ports
of the main-deck, and those remaining on board found
themselves encircled with fire, and suffocated with
smoke and heat. The stern ladders were consumed
in a minute and dropped into the sea; the boats which
had been receiving the men were obliged, also, to
back astern from the intense heat of the flames; even
those on the raft shrieked as they found themselves
scorched by the ignited fragments which fell on them
as they were enveloped in an opaque cloud of smoke,
which hid from them those who still remained on the
deck of the vessel. Philip attempted to speak
to those on board, but he was not heard. A scene
of confusion took place which ended in great loss of
life. The only object appeared to be who should
first escape; though, except by jumping overboard,
there was no escape. Had they waited, and (as
Philip would have pointed out to them) have one by
one thrown themselves into the sea, the men in the
boats were fully prepared to pick them up; or had
they climbed out to the end of the lateen mizen-yard
which was lowered down, they might have descended safely
by a rope, but the scorching of the flames which surrounded
them and the suffocation from the smoke was overpowering,
and most of the soldiers sprang over the taffrail
at once, or as nearly so as possible. The consequence
was that there were thirty or forty in the water at
the same time, and the scene was as heart-rending
as it was appalling; the sailors in the boats dragging
them in as fast as they could—the women
on the raft, throwing to them loose garments to haul
them in; at one time a wife shrieking as she saw her
husband struggling and sinking into eternity;—at
another, curses and execrations from the swimmer who
was grappled with by the drowning man, and dragged
with him under the surface. Of eighty men who
were left of the troops on board at the time of the
bursting out of the flames from the stern windows,
but twenty-five were saved. There were but few
seamen left on board with Philip, the major part having
been employed in making the raft or manning the three
boats; those who were on board remained by his side,
regulating their motions by his. After allowing
full time for the soldiers to be picked up, Philip
ordered the men to climb out to the end of the lateen
yard which hung on the taffrail, and either to lower
themselves down on the raft if it was under, or to
give notice to the boats to receive them. The