frightful incidents of the catastrophe. Unhappily, the collapse of the structure occurred when the mill was peopled with its busy complement of hands. It is not uncommon-indeed, we are thankful to say it is common-to read of accidents which might have resulted in tragedies beyond belief. We are frequently told of the fall of a staircase, or a roof, or of a fire in a theatre, or of other casualties, which might, if they had happened ten minutes earlier or later, have caused the deaths of hundreds. We read of railway accidents, in which, by the narrowest possible chance, a whole train of passengers escapes instant destruction; and sometimes, perhaps, we reflect for a moment on the nature of the disaster which was so near occurring. At the Pemberton Mills that kind of disaster was actually witnessed. The five stories of the building fell in, one after another, upon the heads of 600 or 700 workpeople who were assembled at their trade, and the living and the dead, with the fractured beams of the edifice and the heavy ironwork of the machinery, were precipitated in one mass to the ground. How many found their deaths on the instant is still unknown, but it is only too well known that they who did so were the most fortunate of the victims. Even this crash itself was as nothing in comparison with the scene which followed. As soon as the news of the disaster got abroad thousands of people rushed to the rescue, and for some hours toiled painfully, and not without success, in extricating sufferers from the mass of ruin. But a new and more shocking alarm was presently given. As the early evening of winter had closed in upon the scene, large bonfires were lit in a circuit round the spot to enable the work of humanity to be carried on through the night. Either from one of these, or through some unexplained, though not surprising accident, fire was communicated to the mass, and rapidly caught hold of it. The rest we can hardly venture to describe. Imprisoned in the ruins of the edifice, mangled by the fall, but still living and conscious, hundreds of men and women were exposed to the most shocking of deaths. The flames enveloped them before the very eyes of their relatives and countrymen, and consumed them while their voices were still heard and recognized in unavailing shrieks for protection. As the telegraph flashed the tidings of the catastrophe to the adjacent States, the horror of the story must have been inconceivable. At New York the people learnt the tale piece by piece, so that every successive incident had time to sink into the mind. First came the shock of the accident, then the details of the rescue; but before hope could be well formed it was crushed by the fresh intelligence of the conflagration, the ascendancy of the flames, and all the realities of the hecatomb. The actual extent of the calamity is not accurately ascertained. The reports circulated by the excited people represent the number of the unfortunates buried in the ruins to be between 500 and 800, it probably exceeded the former number. How many were rescued without injury, or with injuries more or less severe, is not known; one printed report, issued before the second calamity became known, states the dead still in the Another ruins at more than 200. says "the number will probably not fall short of 300, and may go up to 400 or 500." The narratives of the survivors of their sufferings, and of the sufferings of their miserable neighbours who perished, are too terrible to relate. Even more frightful are the details of the scenes witnessed by those who searched the ruins and endeavoured to save those who were yet living, and whom they were compelled to abandon to a lingering and horrible death. Nor was this the only fatal catastrophe which marks the domestic history of the Union at this period. On the 3rd of February, a steam-boiler exploded in a hat factory at Brooklyn, causing the instant death of six persons, and injuring eight or ten others: and on the day previous a fire broke out in New York, in which 50 persons perished. FIRES IN THE PROVINCES. Conflagrations have occurred by which property of great value has been destroyed, and many hundred people thrown out of work, in the provinces. On January 12, the spinningmill of Mr. Ward, at Blackburn, was destroyed. There were no fewer than 26,000 spindles in this establishment, and the loss is only partially covered by an insurance of 15,000l. On January 19, the Essex Steam Flour Mills, at Chelmsford, were burnt. The stock of corn and flour, destroyed or rendered valueless, is estimated at from 10,000l. to 15,000l.; and the loss by the destruction of these stores and of the buildings and machinery, is said to exceed 25,000l. On February 2, the extensive Hanover Mills at Manchester were burnt. The mills consisted of two buildings, one seven the other eight stories in height. The fire broke out in the former, which was entirely consumed; and spread to the latter, which was partly burnt. The destroyed premises contained 22,000 spindles and 138 carding-engines. The loss, by the destruction of the buildings, machinery, and stock, exceeds 25,000l.; and 600 workpeople are thrown out of employment. On March 10, the cotton mill of Messrs. Haslam, at Preston, was totally destroyed; it contained 29,000 spindles, and employed about 200 persons. The loss exceeds 20,0001. 16. EXPLOSION AT A FIRE-WORK FACTORY.-Another explosion, attended with the loss of at least two lives, has occurred at the firework factory of Mr. Darby, "the well-known pyrotechnist." The building in which this dangerous employment is carried on is in Regent Street, Lambeth Walk. In the evening a loud explosion and the issue of dense masses of smoke from the windows of the building announced the usual catastrophe. It was found that three men were employed in ramming the composition into cases, with a large quantity of "coloured fires" drying before a stove, when the dangerous compound ignited and spread the fire to the stores around. The dense smoke produced by the burning materials so overpowered the workmen that they were unable to save themselves; and when they were rescued by some courageous neighbours, they were found to be so seriously burnt that they were taken to Guy's Hospital, where two of them died. The premises were destroyed. 18. STATUE TO LORD CLIVE. The tortures of the Black Hole of Calcutta," the recapture of that city by Colonel Clive, the siege of Chandernagore, and the crowning victory of Plassey, form the first pages of the first volume of THE ANNUAL REGISTER. In recording the inauguration of the statue of the great commander in his county town of Shrewsbury, in commemoration of the hundredth anniversary of his victory, history seems almost to repeat itself, and the hundredth volume of this work seems to have completed the circle where the first begins it. The parallelism of events is somewhat remarkable. The English garrison of Calcutta had surrendered to the Surajah Dowlah, and had received promises of good treatment. They were, however, shut up in a dungeon to the number of 146, where all but twenty-three were suffocated. The horrible fate of these persons excited the greatest sensation in England; great exertions were made to reinforce our troops in India, and a celebrated commander was sent out expressly to conduct the campaign. Calcutta and Chandernagore were retaken, and the cruel deaths of our countrymen were avenged by the decisive battle at Plassey, fought on the 23rd June, 1757, drove the treacherous prince from his throne, and he perished by assassination; and by this great event the foundations of the marvellous British Empire in India were firmly laid. These wonderful events are recorded in the first volume of THE ANNUAL REGISTER in a form so succinct, that their vast importance was evidently not suspected, and even the name of the spot where the decisive victory was won is not not mentioned-perhaps was not known. The hundredth volume records the outbreak of the great Sepoy mutiny by the treacherous onslaught at Meerut, the frightful massacre of men, women, and children, by the Nana Sahib, the recapture of the place by Havelock, followed by the flight and obscure death of the miscreant; the massacres of Delhi, followed by the storm of that city, and the final dethronement of the Great Mogul, the mission of Lord Clyde, and the decisive victory at Lucknow. By this marvellous series of events no native prince is left in India of power to question our dominion. The statue of the founder of our Indian Empire was the result of a meeting of private individuals on the hundredth anniversary of the great victory, who thought it disgraceful to the national character and derogatory from the glorious history of England, that no public monument to one who had achieved such vast things for his country should exist. The bronze statue, which has no pretensions to high art, is the work of Baron Marochetti, and simply a portrait statue of a short stout gentleman in the costume of the period, and suggests no ideas of the strong will and grand conceptions of "the heaven-born general." Speedier justice has been done to the military genius who added the West of India to our dominions as Clive had won the East. Two statues have been erected to General Sir Charles Napier, one in Trafalgar Square, another of marble in the "Heroium" of British commanders-St. Paul's Cathedral. It is a pleasing indication of the improvement of the public conscience, that the pedestal of this latter statue bears testi mony to Sir Charles Napier, that he was 66 a Beneficent Governor, a Just Man ;" words which are not inscribed on that of the Great Lord Clive. 21. FATAL ACCIDENT TO CAPTAIN HARRISON, OF THE "GREAT EASTERN."-A fatal boat accident which occurred at Southampton this morning, seemed to have consummated the misfortunes of the unlucky Great Eastern. Among the men of genius and enterprise to whom the construction of the Great Eastern was committed, there was no one (putting aside, of course, the originator and master-mind, Mr. Brunell, and the constructor, Mr. Scott Russell) to whom the success of the vessel was more largely owing than to her captain, Mr. Harrison. This gentleman had had the largest responsibility in all those departments of her design which concerned her interior accommodation and navigation. In the difficulties and misfortunes which awaited the great ship, from the first attempt to launch her to her successful trial trip, the energy and skill of Captain Harrison were conspicuous. And when, amid the wreck and ruin of her failure as a mercantile speculation, her unfortunate shareholders determined on a few more efforts, the whole confidence of the Company, and their hope of retrieving their affairs, were placed in Captain Harrison. It has already been stated (see p. 136 of the volume for 1859) that on the conclusion of her trial trip to Holyhead the Great Eastern was placed in her winter berth in Southampton Water, in the bay formed by the spit on which Hurst Castle stands. Captain Harrison resided in a small villa called Hythe House, further up the river, and nearly opposite Netley Abbey. It was the custom that his gig should leave the Great Eastern and call for the captain, at Hythe pier, every morning at half-past nine, whence it conveyed him either to the ship or to Southampton, as business might require. This morning the boat left the ship as usual, under the management of Ogden, the captain's coxswain, a fine, active seaman, who had full experience of the boat, and was an excellent boatman. Her crew consisted of five picked seamen. At Hythe pier, Captain Harrison, Mr. Lay (the chief purser), his son, a fine youth of eighteen, and Dr. Watson, the chief surgeon, embarked, for the purpose of going to Southampton, where the captain had to cash certain cheques in order to pay wages and disbursements on board the ship. The gig was a fine vessel of her class, swift, but hardly strong enough to encounter rough water, She carried a lug-sail, which upon this occasion was close-reefed, for it was blowing stifly. As in most landlocked waters, although they are for the most part sheltered from the wind, yet in heavy weather the gale frequently rushes up or down the channel in fierce and unexpected gusts, or while those parts which are under immediate protection from high ground are merely animated by the breeze, the parts outside that shelter are lashed by the full fury of the gale. If the sudden squalls are difficult to guard against, yet experience teaches to be prepared; but frequently a vessel sailing in smooth water, sheltered from cold and piercing blasts, passes without warning into a fierce eddy of wind. Such was the condition of Southampton Water on this unfortunate morning. The weather had become much worse during the gig's passage to Southampton; it blew hard, and was piercingly cold. Nevertheless, the gig made good way, the water under the banks was smooth, the wind fair for her destination. A large inward-bound steamer, the Indus, had been unable to enter the tidal docks the previous evening, and was now at anchor in the stream, between 150 and 200 yards of the entrance. The tide, which had risen unusually high, was just setting out from the docks, and meeting the wind raised a short chopping sea. It appears, in fact, that the space between the dock walls and the Indus was just one of those places where the eddies of the gale struck with great fury. As the gig entered the agitated spot, the officers of the Indus observed that she yawed about and seemed not to be under control. Captain Harrison, who was steering, seeing the danger, gave orders to stand by the halyards and lower the try-sail. The sail and halyards were wet, something went amiss, the yard after coming down a foot stuck fast, and the sail being struck at this moment by an eddy from the dock entrance, was "taken aback," and the consequence was that the gig being thrown over on to the side where most of the crew sat, filled and went down. It appeared upon the evidence of Dr. Watson, who was picked up insensible, that, while swimming, he observed Captain Harrison striking out bravely towards the boat. He retained full presence of mind, and in answer to Dr. Watson exclaimed, "All right-all right." Captain Harrison reached the boat, which was then pitching about keel uppermost, and made a strong at tempt to right her; but she was filled with water, and turned over so completely as to rise again with the keel uppermost still. Between this movement of the boat and the fury of the sea, Dr. Watson was separated for an interval from young Lay, whom he had seized, and was courageously supporting, and the boat. After a while, In however, he again succeeded in catching the poor lad and jamming him in between himself and the stern of the boat, onto which he held with one hand, while with the other he tried to support Captain Harrison, who WAS buffeting strongly with the waves, by keeping his hand under his arm. this manner some minutes passed, and Captain Harrison seemed almost powerless, and to be becoming insensible. After a short while, however, he again threw himself on the keel of the boat, and strove to turn it over. The struggle, however, was, like the first, ineffectual, and seemed to exhaust his strength, for he relaxed his hold, threw his arms up, and fell back in the waves, after which Dr. Watson saw him no more. The last gallant effort of the Captain had, however, again separated Dr. Watson from the bout, and from young Lay, who, before the doctor could regain his hold of him, went down, beating the water with his hands as he sank. Mr. Lay, who was holding on to the boat, shouted loudly for help as he saw his child disappear. Dr. Watson called to them all to hold on, as a boat was coming. Some of the crew were then clu ging to oars and stretchers, but most of them to the boat. Ogden could not be seen. It was some minutes longer before any boats could make their way to them through the heavy sea, by which time malinquished their hold · or |