ated an approaching
storm.

In addition to the Sceptre there remained in the Bay the Jupiter of 50
guns, the Oldenburg, a Danish 64 gun ship, and several other vessels.
On the morning of the 5th, a strong gale blew from the north-west, but
no danger was apprehended, and the ship, dressed in flags, and with
the royal standard hoisted, fired her salute at noon in commemoration
of the Gunpowder Treason.

The gale had increased considerably by two o'clock, and as Table Bay
affords no shelter from a north-west wind, the captain took every
precaution to make all secure: the topmasts were struck, and the fore
and main-yards were lowered to ease the ship. But half-an-hour had not
elapsed before the violence of the storm was such, that the ship
parted from her best bower cable; the sheet anchor was immediately let
go, and the cable veered away to twenty-eight fathoms. The storm
gathered strength, and at half-past six the whole fury of the elements
seemed to be concentrated in one terrific blast.

Orders were given to let go the anchor, with two of the forecastle
guns attached; but even this proved insufficient to hold the ship.

One of the boats was then hoisted out, in order to communicate with
the Jupiter, and procure the end of a cable from her, but in a few
minutes the boat upset and was lost, with all her crew. For some hours
signal guns of distress had been fired, and the ensign had been
hoisted downwards, but no help could reach the vessel: in that
tempestuous sea no boat could live. Some of the officers who had gone
on shore the previous evening were standing on the beach, unable to
render any assistance to their comrades, and compelled to remain
inactive spectators of the harrowing scene, and to behold their brave
ship foundering at her anchors.

About eight o'clock, loud above the howling of the tempest and the
booming of the minute gun, arose the wild cry of _fire_: and thick
smoke was discernible from the shore, issuing from the hatches. Now
were the opposing elements of air, fire, and water combined for the
destruction of the ill-fated ship. For an instant, all stood
paralysed; but it was only for an instant. Again the voices of the
officers were raised in command, and every man was ready at his post.

The smoke came up from the hatches in such dense volumes, that all
attempts to go below to extinguish the fire were abortive. Each man
felt that his last hour was come,--there was not a shadow of hope that
the