_August 8th._--This morning, about 7·30, one mile--one thousand fathoms--had been recovered, and was coiled on deck. The Cable, however, put out a little more vigour in its resistance, and the strain went up to 80 cwt., having touched 90 cwt. once or twice previously. No matter what happened, the perseverance of the engineers and seamen had been so far rewarded by a very extraordinary result. They had caught up a thin Cable from a depth of 2,500 fathoms, and had hauled it up through a mile of water. They were hauling at it still, and all might be recovered. But it was not so to be. Our speculations were summarily disposed of--our hopes sent to rest in the Atlantic. Shortly before 8 o’clock, an iron shackle and swivel at the end of a length of wire rope came over the bow, passed over the drums, and had been wound three times round the capstan, when the head of the swivel bolt “drew,” exactly as the swivel before it had done, and the rope, parting at once, flew round the capstan, over the drums, through the stops, with the irresistible force on it of a strain, indicated at the time or a little previously, of 90 cwt. It is wonderful no one was hurt. The end of the rope flourished its iron fist in the air, and struck out with it right and left, as though it were animated by a desire to destroy those who might arrest its progress. It passed through the line of cablemen with an impatient sweep, dashed at one man’s head, was only balked by his sudden stoop, and menacing from side to side the men at the bow, who fortunately were few in number, and were warned of the danger of their position, splashed overboard. All had been done that the means at the disposal of engineers and officers allowed. The machinery had been altered, improved, tested--every shackle and swivel had been separately examined, and several which looked faulty had been knocked off and replaced, but in every instance the metal was found to be of superior quality. It was 7·43 a.m., ship’s time, exactly, when the rope parted. The sad news was signalled to the Terrible, which had been following our progress anxiously and hopefully during the night. Her flags in return soon said, “Very sorry,” and she steamed towards the Great Eastern immediately. Mr. Canning and Mr. Gooch, and others, consulted what was best to be done, and meantime the buoy and raft which had been prepared in anticipation of such a catastrophe as had occurred, were lowered over the bows with a mooring rope of 2,500 fathoms long, attached to a broken spur-wheel. The buoy was surmounted by a rod with a black ball at the top over a flag red, white, and red, in three alternate horizontal stripes, and on it were the words and letters:--“Telegraph, No. 3.” It floated rather low on a strong raft of timber, with corks lashed at the corners, and by observation and reckoning it was lowered in Lat. 51° 25´ 30´´, Long. 38° 56´. The old buoy at the time it was slipped bore S.E. by E. 13 miles from the Great Eastern.