Ships from the Thames, from the east coasts of England and Scotland, from all northern Europe--ships sailing under every flag, and bound to all ports, gathered day by day in the Downs anchorage, where they waited for the strong south-westerly gales to give place to a more favourable slant of wind, that they might pursue their way down Channel; but still the strong adverse winds prevailed. But while the outward-bound ships were thus obliged to halt in their course, the homeward-bound ships came foamingly along, their masts bending like whips under the small spread of canvas they were alone able to carry. Like white-winged gulls they fled over the leaping seas, and threaded their way through the crowded anchorage of the Downs. The careless sailors laughed at the heavy blasts of wind which in their force only hurried the good ship on, and thus gave the crews a better prospect of realising their hopes of being in Old England on the near Christmas tide, to spend it with their friends on shore, and share in, and by their presence greatly add to, all the pleasures of the season. But the smaller vessels at anchor in the Downs began to ride uneasily, the force of the gale fell on them with unchecked fury, the swift tide pressed them sore, and raging seas broke over them again and again. Their anchors began to drag; the breakers on the Goodwin Sands leapt and foamed dangerously near to leeward; there was also danger of collision if their anchors continued to drag, the ships in the Downs being so crowded together. Yes, there must be a flight from the Downs on the part of many of the smaller craft. Some vessels make for Ramsgate harbour, not many, as the charges are now so high and restrictive as almost to make it cease from being a harbour of refuge. Other vessels make for an anchorage round the North Foreland; a dangerous experiment this, as it frequently happens that a sudden lull comes in the southerly gale, and in a short time the wind chops right round, and begins to blow from the northward harder than ever. It was so on the occasion of which we are writing. If a strong fort, under which a fleet was anchored for protection, suddenly fell into the hands of the enemy, a greater change would not be wrought in the position, as to the safety of the vessels, than is occasioned by this sudden shift of wind to the vessels in the Margate Roads. The high cliffs which have been their shield now become their deadly peril. It had been desirable to gain their shelter, it is now a necessity to escape from their neighbourhood as soon as possible. And so, on this occasion, as the wind chopped round all was at once astir; some ships succeeded in regaining their anchors, others had no time or power to do so; some were driven ashore; twenty or thirty vessels had to slip their cables, and as, with no anchors on board, the captains did not dare to remain in the neighbourhood of the Sands or land, these vessels were hauled on a wind, and like a flock of weary