DOVER. 239 



The doomed iron-clad went down in seven minutes on board there was scarcely time 

 left the officers and crew to think much less to act with effect. The boats that had not been 

 smashed could hardly be got into the water; the hammocks had been stowed in some 

 unusual place, so that it was useless to attempt to get at them, and thus a very perfect 

 means of escape was cut off from the 280 poor fellows that were drowned. 



The experience of the first lieutenant when the vessel was going down under the very 

 eyes of a number of people on shore is interesting in the extreme. He felt himself sucked 

 in, and describes a sensation of enormous pressure on his ribs, as if the water were forcing 

 him down. Then he came across another column of water, which as promptly vomited him up to- 

 the surface again, when he caught hold of a spar, and saved his life. A dreadful fate befell some 

 thirty unfortunate sailors, who, in spite of the commands and entreaties of the boatswain, 

 who was standing on the forecastle, threw themselves over the bows, and endeavoured to swim 

 away. But the sinking ship was too fast I'or them, and they were caught in the netting 

 which is stretched under the jibboom, and, thus entangled, were carried down with the ship. 

 The disabled Konig Wilhelm was almost immediately towed into Portsmouth for repairs.* 



Dover is by no means so generally known as many less interesting places on the south 

 coast, for the larger number of those who depart for or arrive from the Continent usually 

 pass it by. It has been often incidentally mentioned in these pages, but no description 

 of its special attractions has yet been given. 



It is situated not far from the South Foreland, in the extreme south-east corner of 

 Kent, on the narrowest part of the British Channel, and only some twenty miles from the 

 opposite coast of France. Hence it is the port for steamers crossing to Calais on the 

 Continental service, a trip usually made in about one hour and three-quarters. If the reader 

 should cross on the now-famous Calais-Donvres, the luxurious and easy-riding twin vessel, 

 he will hardly require the advice relative to the ma I de mer contained in a previous chapter. 

 Dover, though comparatively little used as a watering-place, possesses excellent accom- 

 modation for visitors bathing-machines, and all the usual paraphernalia of such places. 

 Its grand hotel, " The Lord Warden/' is second to none in England, and has sheltered 

 scores of crowned heads and coroneted aristocrats, as well as the less distinguished, though 

 perhaps equally worthy, Jones, Brown, Smith, and Robinson. 



On the eastern side of the town stands that elevated and noble fortress the Castle, of 

 which some description has already been given. A short distance from it the chalk cliff rises 

 370 feet above the sea, and hard by stands a beautiful piece of brass ordnance, 24 feet in 

 length, which bears the name of " Queen Elizabeth's Pocket Pistol," and was presented 

 to her Majesty by the States of Holland. It is said to carry a 12-lb. ball to a distance 

 of seven miles. It is curiously adorned with a variety of devices, typifying the blessings 

 of peace and the horrors of war. On its breech is the following motto in Dutch, which,. 



freely translated, signifies : 



" O'er hill and dale I throw my ball, 

 Breaker my name of mound and wall." 



To the westward of the town rises the majestic headland named after our immortal 



* This account of the loss of the Grosser Knrfiirst is condensed from an article in the United Service Gazette. 



