position or in any numbers. A friendly article on the tunnel in the _Illustrated London News_ at the beginning of March noted significantly that not only the entrance at the English end—either at Abbots Cliff or at Sir Edward's proposed glassed-in railway station at Shakespeare Cliff—would be under the fire of the eighty-ton turret guns installed on the Admiralty Pier, but that "it is to be observed how completely [the entrance to the new ventilating shaft] is commanded both from the sea and from the Pier, and also from the guns of the fortress." The _Illustrated London News_ obligingly showed the principle of the thing by running a large two-page-wide engraving depicting, in handsomely apocalyptic style, the hypothetical destruction of the entire tunnel workings and, presumably, the invaders inside them, amid great ballooning clouds of smoke from gun batteries everywhere—from the end of the Admiralty Pier, from points within the Dover land fortifications, and from the cannonading broadsides of British naval men-of-war standing offshore. The fate of invaders from floodwaters was depicted in a more sensational London publication, the _Penny Illustrated Paper_, which published an engraving a foot and a half long and a foot high illustrating "Sir Edward Watkin's remedy for the invasion scare: Drowning the French Pharaoh in the Channel Tunnel." The engraving showed a cutaway section of the tunnel under the Channel near the English end and, rising upward at the left, a staired chamber of rock equipped with sluice-gates and set in the white cliffs. In this chamber, two figures in top hats and frock coats are standing and gazing down on the tunnel, which is filled with French infantry led by plumed, helmeted officers on horseback. One of the figures in the cliff chamber, evidently meant to represent Sir Edward Watkin, is in the act of calmly operating a turncock that has loosed, through the sluices, a dreadful flood cascading down into the tunnel upon the invaders, who are turning to flee in panic.