her moment, the gallant chief of the Fire Brigade lay
buried under at least fifteen feet of burning ruin.

Any attempt at rescue would have been impossible as well as unavailing,
for death must have been instantaneous. The hero's warfare with the
flames, which had lasted for upwards of thirty-eight years, was ended;
and his brave spirit returned to God Who gave it.

That a man of no ordinary note had fallen was proved, before many hours
had passed, by the deep and earnest feeling of sorrow and sympathy which
was manifested by all classes in London, from Queen Victoria downwards,
as well as by the public funeral which took place a few days afterwards,
at which were present the Duke of Sutherland, the Earl of Caithness, the
Reverend Doctor Cumming, and many gentlemen connected with the insurance
offices; the committee and men of the London Fire Brigade; also those of
various private and local brigades; the secretary and conductors of the
Royal Society for the Protection of Life from Fire; the mounted
Metropolitan and City police; the London Rifle Brigade (of which Mr
Braidwood's three sons were members); the superintendents and men of the
various water companies; and a long string of private and mourning
carriages: to witness the progress of which hundreds of thousands of
people densely crowded the streets and clustered in the windows and on
every available eminence along the route; while in Cheapside almost all
the shops were shut and business was suspended; and in the neighbourhood
of Shoreditch toiling thousands of artisans came forth from factory and
workshop to "see the last of Braidwood," whose name had been so long
familiar to them as a "household word." The whole heart of London
seemed to have been moved by one feeling, and the thousands who thronged
the streets "had" (in the language of one of the papers of the day)
"gathered together to witness the funeral, not of a dead monarch, not of
a great warrior, not of a distinguished statesman, not even of a man
famous in art, in literature, or in science, but simply of James
Braidwood, late superintendent of the London Fire-Engine
Establishment"--a true hero, and one who was said, by those who knew him
best, to be an earnest Christian man.

But at the moment of his fall his men were engaged in the thick of
battle. Crushing though the news of his death was, there was no
breathing time to realise it.

The fierce heat had not only driven back the firemen on shore, b