The Admiralty at first endeavoured to lighten the ship by removing the heavy guns and other tackle. Sister ships stood by while this was done, and then “camels,” _i.e._ steel tanks filled with compressed air, were attached to the sides, to raise her; but after months of work, it was found useless, and the ill-fated ship was at length sold to a salvage company for a ridiculously low sum. It is generally understood that the company, working with a large staff for twelve months in removing the armour-plating and other valuable parts, have made enormous profits. In spite of the winter storms that have raged here since then, the hull remains as firmly fixed as ever. [Illustration: _World’s Graphic Press._] THE LAST OF THE “MONTAGU,” AUGUST, 1907.] Not only the Salvage Company, but the excursion steamboats also, have benefited largely by that disastrous error of judgment on a foggy night, for, in the course of two summers, many thousands of people who might not otherwise have visited Lundy, have taken the trip to see the poor, rust-streaked wreck. They land upon the beach, and, toiling painfully up and over the rocky spine of the island, come to a grassy cliff’s-edge. There, below, lies the _Montagu_, and up above they sit, perhaps a couple of hundred of people, gazing upon the reddened decks, awash with the waves, until prudence bids them hasten back for the steamer’s return. The owners of the excursion steamers are devoutly hoping the wreck may last another season. They are not like the wicked old wreckers of the Cornish coast, who often went so impiously far as to pray: “O Lord, send us a good wreck!” but they perhaps hope that, if any more naval commanders are about to pile up their ships on the rocks, they may do it hereabouts, so that, at any rate, some honest folk may profit. The year 1906 also witnessed the attempted sale of Lundy. It was offered by auction, at Tokenhouse Yard, on September 25th. The auctioneer was equal to the occasion. He enlarged upon the unique position of any one fortunate enough to become possessed of this “little kingdom for a little king, an empire for a little emperor.” A very little emperor, be it said. He exclaimed: “no rates, no taxes, no motor-dust,” and narrated how there was no licensing authority, and in short, complete freedom from the ills the harassed rate-payer of the unhappy mainland is heir to. How much for this desirable property? Ten thousand pounds bid, for a rent-roll of £630? £10,500, and so on to £17,000; and thenceforward to £19,000. “Only £19,000 bid for this little, tight little (no, _not_ tight little, for there are no public-houses), let us say ‘bright’ little, island? Why, there is a fortune waiting in the granite alone; and a prospect of the Government some day making Lundy a naval base! “All done at £19,000? Gentlemen, I am sorry to say the reserve price of £25,000 has not been reached, and the lot is withdrawn.”