Grace Darling - Eva Hope (amazing books to read TXT) 📗

was set, Frank Sealove and John Gunstaveson being on deck, and on the watch. They died doing their duty. I went down to my berth, and was soon fast asleep. I don't know how long I had slept, when I was nearly shaken out of my hammock by a fearful crashing or a staggering over the ship. Before I knew where I was—being awoke so suddenly—I heard the boatswain sing out, 'All hands on deck to the pumps.' I was not long in jumping into my boots I can tell yon, and all in the forecastle ran upstairs pell-mell. When we got there, we could not see much, for the night was dark, but there was light enough to see a half-dressed crowd come rushing madly up from the steerage passenger berths, and you didn't want any light to hear the shrieks of the women and the crying of the children.

"There was a terrible panic I can tell you, amongst the strong, rough men, when it became apparent that the vessel was sinking. To tell the truth, there was that much confusion on board that I really did not know what was going to be done. By this time about a dozen women had got on to the deck. I could hear the captain's voice, now and then, above the praying and crying, but I don't know that any one was paying any attention to him. In the midst of the din and confusion the captain's wife was being lowered into the boat on the starboard side. She had been aroused by her husband, who assisted her to dress, and as a precaution against sinking she put on a cork belt. As she was descending, the Captain waved his hands, and said, 'Good-bye, my dear, good-bye;' and his wife replied, 'Good-bye, my love; I don't expect to see you any more.' One poor fellow who jumped with me on to the tops of the pile of boats, said, 'My last minute's come; if you should live to get ashore tell mother I was thinking of her when I went down.' 'All right, old chap,' I said, 'I will; it I should go and you should get ashore, tell my mother likewise that my last thought was of her.'

"In another minute I saw the sea come up to the level of the poop, and the crowd, which stood shrieking there, seemed to mingle with it, and all go away into white foam. Then I myself was struggling in the water, and was just thinking to myself what a long time I was being drowned, when I came up, and feeling out with my hands, got hold of some rigging. I stuck to it; to my surprise I found it did not sink; and presently others came and got hold of it. Eventually a pilot boat came alongside and took us all off."

The "Murillo," a Spanish screw steamer, was adjudged to have been the offender in the case; but, as it could not be legally proved, the captain escaped punishment.

Very shortly after the sinking of the "Northfleet," news came of another calamity, which stirred the heart of the country with pity. On the 1st of April, 1873, the "Atlantic" foundered off the coast of Nova Scotia, burying with her under the waves four hundred and eighty-one people.

Sailing from Liverpool on the 20th of March, she was bound for America with a burden of nine hundred and thirty-one souls, principally emigrants. The equinoctial gales were blowing, and Captain Williams thought it wise to make for the Harbour of Halifax, Nova Scotia. Arrived off Lake Prospect on the 31st, the vessel was expected, very shortly, to be safe in port; but drifting somewhat out of her proper direction she ran on to a submerged reef. All hands were immediately on deck, and every endeavour was made to launch the boats, but they were prevented by the sudden turning over of the vessel. Many of the passengers clung to the rigging, believing that to be their best chance of escape. Five lines were attached, by the crew, to a rock lying some distance from the vessel, and another line was carried from the rock to the shore. Many of the passengers, who had the courage to pass over the comparatively slender rope spanning the watery abyss, were saved. By reason of the extreme cold several lost their hold on the ropes and fell into the sea. The captain was indefatigable in his efforts to preserve life. A vast number of passengers died in their berths; many who had managed to reach the deck were swept away by the immense waves that flooded it. One sharp cry was wafted on the chill night air, and a deadly silence prevailed, except for the fitful roaring of the sea.

Early in the morning, many who had spent the hours of darkness on the rock, were rescued by a boat sent from Meagher's Island. Captain Williams maintained his position on the wreck until the effect of the cold on him had made his presence useless, when he was carried off in one of the boats. Mr. Firth, after being many hours in the rigging was assisted from his precarious situation by the Rev. Mr. Ancient, a clergyman. A Spaniard remarked that the scene on board the sinking ship was one of awful confusion. A crowd of terror-stricken human beings were swaying hither and thither, in vain hopes of meeting with some way of escape, shrieking and begging for aid; a moment after, when he looked from his perch in the rigging, not a soul of them was to be seen.

Emulated by the courageous example of the Rev. Mr. Ancient, the fishermen of Meagher's Island did all in their power for the shipwrecked people. One boy, whose friends had perished, was saved by trying to creep through a porthole, but not having sufficient strength, a boatman seized him by the hair and drew him out, depositing him in the boat.

The vessel soon snapped asunder, and many of her stores were recovered by the divers. Corpses were every now and then thrown up in vast numbers by the raging sea, to be reverently laid with their kindred dust, in the churchyard mould.

Many other stories might be told, as they have been most graphically, in "Notable Shipwrecks," lately published by Cassell, Petter, & Galpin, to which the writer is indebted for much information, but these will be sufficient to remind the reader of the perils of the sea. Scope, indeed, for the exercise of the truest heroism is given in such disasters; but one cannot read of the sacrifice of brave lives without a shudder. And yet, why should it be so?

"To every man upon the earth,
Death cometh soon or late;"

and to go down into the waves, with the consciousness of rising to immortal life directly, cannot be very sad after all. If only the soul be prepared for the change, nothing else signifies much. It does not matter whether the body rests beneath the flowers in the cemetery, or in the ocean-beds. The repose will be as tranquil either way. "Them that sleep in Jesus will God bring with Him."

"Give back the lost and lovely! Those for whom
The place was kept at board and hearth so long,
The prayer went up through midnight's breathless gloom,
And the vain yearning woke 'midst festal song!
Hold fast thy buried isles, thy towers o'erthrown—
But all is not thine own!

"To thee the love of woman hath gone down.
Dark flow thy tides o'er manhood's noble head,
O'er youth's bright locks, and beauty's flowery crown.
Yet must thou hear a voice—Restore the dead!
Earth shall reclaim her precious things from thee:
Restore the dead, thou sea!"—Mrs. Hemans.

CHAPTER XI. THE WRECK OF THE "FORFARSHIRE."

"Never bronze, nor slab of stone,
May their sepulchre denote:
O'er their burial place alone
Shall the shifting sea-weed float.

"Not for them the quiet grave
Underneath the daisied turf;
They rest below the restless wave,
They sleep below the sleepless surf.

"O'er them shall the waters wrestle
With the whirlwind from the land,
But their bones will only nestle
Closer down into the sand;

"And for ever, wind and surge,
Loud or low, shall be their dirge;
And each idle wave that breaks
Henceforth upon any shore,
Shall be dearer for their sakes,
Shall be holy evermore."—E. H. O.

Only they who have had to brave the dangers of the deep for many years, can understand what its perils really are. Unfortunately, as the reader knows, these are so great and frequent, that to describe a wreck is but to take one of many which have been still more sad and disastrous. But as the wreck of the "Forfarshire" deserves especial mention, because of the heroic conduct of the lighthouse-girl, it will be necessary that we should become acquainted with as many of its details as have been preserved.

The "Forfarshire" steamer was a vessel of about three hundred tons burden, and it was under the command of one, John Humble, who had formerly been master of the "Neptune," of Newcastle. The "Forfarshire" was to go from Hull to Dundee, with a valuable cargo of bale goods and sheet iron; and she sailed from Hull on Wednesday evening, September 5th, 1838, at about half-past six o'clock. Two other vessels left at the same time, the "Pegasus" and "Inisfail," both bound for Leith. The vessel might almost have been called a new one, for she was but two years old, but her boilers were in a very bad state of repair. They were examined before the ship left Hull; and a small leak which was detected was closed up, and it was hoped that the vessel had been made safe. Sixty-three persons sailed in her, including twenty passengers in the cabin, and nineteen in the steerage, Captain Humble, his wife, fourteen seamen, four firemen, two coal trimmers, and two stewards. Several persons noticed an unusual bustle on board, and found, on inquiring, that it was caused by the state of the boilers. This very naturally occasioned great anxiety on the part of those who were to sail in her, and one of the steerage passengers, Mrs. Dawson, was heard to say, that if her husband came down to the steamer in time, she would return with him, and not sail in the vessel at all.

Off Flamborough Head the leakage was again detected, and continued for six hours; but it did not appear to be very serious, inasmuch as the pumps were able to keep the vessel dry. Still it was enough to cause some alarm, for two of the fires were extinguished by it, and had to be relighted when the boilers had been temporarily repaired. Things were not very encouraging, since the vessel could only move slowly; and before she had proceeded more than a little way on her course, three other steamers passed her.

It would have been only wise and right if, under such circumstances, the vessel had not attempted to pursue her course, but had put into the nearest port. Such was not the case, however, and though she was known to be in a most inefficient state, she proceeded on her voyage. It was about six o'clock on Thursday evening when the "Forfarshire" passed through the Fairway, the water which lies between the Farne Island and the mainland. It was night when she entered Berwick Bay, and at that time the wind was blowing strong from the north, and the sea was running very high. Naturally enough the strain upon the vessel, caused by its greatly increased motion on account of the violence of the weather, widened the leak. The firemen reported that they could not keep the fires burning, as the leakage had increased to such an extent that the water put them out. The captain ordered two men to be employed in pumping water into the boilers, but no good came of that, for as fast as they pumped