Part 2 (1/2)
A splendid instance of persevering effort in the face of absolutely insurmountable difficulty was afforded by the action of the Constance lifeboat, belonging to Tynemouth, on the night of the 24th November, 1864.
On that night the coast of Northumberland was visited by one of the severest gales that had been experienced for many years, and a tremendous sea was das.h.i.+ng and roaring among the rocks at the mouth of the Tyne. Many s.h.i.+ps had sought refuge in the harbour during the day, but, as the shades of evening began to descend, the risk of attempting an entrance became very great. At last, as the night was closing in, the schooner Friends.h.i.+p ran on the rocks named the Black Middens.
Shortly afterwards a large steamer, the Stanley, of Aberdeen, with thirty pa.s.sengers (most of whom were women), thirty of a crew, a cargo of merchandise, and a deckload of cattle, attempted to take the river.
On approaching she sent up rockets for a pilot, but none dared venture out to her. The danger of putting out again to sea was too great. The captain therefore resolved to attempt the pa.s.sage himself. He did so.
Three heavy seas struck the steamer so severely as to divert her from her course, and she ran on the rocks close to the Friends.h.i.+p, so close that the cries of her crew could be heard above the whistling winds and thundering waves. As soon as she struck, the indescribable circ.u.mstances of a dread disaster began. The huge billows that had hitherto pa.s.sed onward, heaving her upwards, now burst over her with inconceivable violence and crushed her down, sweeping the decks continuously--they rocked her fiercely to and fro; they ground her sides upon the cruel rocks; they lifted her on their powerful crests, let her fall bodily on the rocks, stove in her bottom, and, rus.h.i.+ng into the hold, extinguished the engine fires. The sound of her rending planks and timbers was mingled with the piercing cries of the female pa.s.sengers and the gruff shouting of the men, as they staggered to and fro, vainly attempting to do something, they knew not what, to avert their doom.
It was pitch dark by this time, yet not so dark but that the sharp eyes of earnest daring men on sh.o.r.e had noted the catastrophe. The men of the coastguard, under Mr Lawrence Byrne, their chief officer, got out the rocket apparatus and succeeded in sending a line over the wreck.
Unfortunately, however, owing to mismanagement of those on board the steamer, it proved ineffective. They had fastened the hawser of the apparatus to the forecastle instead of high up on the mast, so that the ropes became hopelessly entangled on the rocks. Before this entanglement occurred, however, two men had been hauled ash.o.r.e to show the possibility of escape and to give the ladies courage. Then a lady ventured into the sling-lifebuoy, or cradle, with a sailor, but they stuck fast during the transit, and while being hauled back to the wreck, fell out and were drowned. A fireman then made the attempt. Again the cradle stuck, but the man was strong and went hand over hand along the hawser to the sh.o.r.e, where Mr Byrne rushed into the surf and caught hold of him. The rescuer nearly lost his life in the attempt. He was overtaken by a huge wave, and was on the point of being washed away when he caught hold of a gentleman who ran into the surf to save him.
The rocket apparatus having thus failed, owing to the simple mistake of those in the wreck having fastened the hawser _too low_ on their vessel, the crew attempted to lower a boat with four seamen and four ladies in it. One of the davits gave way, the other swung round, and the boat was swamped. Three of the men were hauled back into the steamer, but the others perished. The men would not now launch the other boats. Indeed it would have been useless, for no ordinary boat could have lived in such a sea. Soon afterwards all the boats were washed away and destroyed, and the destruction of the steamer itself seemed about to take place every moment.
While this terrible fight for dear life was going on, the lifeboat-men were not idle. They ran out their good boat, the Constance, and launched her. And what a fearful launching that was! This boat belonged to the Inst.i.tution, and her crew were justly proud of her.
According to the account given by her gallant c.o.xswain, James Gilbert, they could see nothing whatever at the time of starting but the white flash of the seas as they pa.s.sed over boat and crew, without intermission, twelve or thirteen times. Yet, as quickly as the boat was filled, she emptied herself through her discharging-tubes. Of these tubes I shall treat hereafter. Gilbert could not even see his own men, except the second c.o.xswain, who, I presume, was close to him. Sometimes the boat was ”driven to an angle of forty or forty-five degrees in clearing the rocks.” When they were in a position to make for the steamer, the order was given to ”back all oars and keep her end-on to the sea.” The men obeyed; they seemed to be inspired with fresh vigour as they neared the wreck. Let Gilbert himself tell the rest of the story as follows.
”When abreast of the port bow, two men told us they had a rope ready on the starboard bow. We said we would be there in a moment. I then ordered the bow-man to be ready to receive the rope. As soon as we were ready we made two das.h.i.+ng strokes, and were under the bowsprit, expecting to receive the rope, when we heard a dreadful noise, and the next instant the sea fell over the bows of the Stanley, and buried the lifeboat. Every oar was broken at the gunwale of the boat, and the outer ends were swept away. The men made a grasp for the spare oars.
Three were gone; two only remained. We were then left with the rudder and two oars. The next sea struck the boat almost over end on board the Friends.h.i.+p, the boat at the time being nearly perpendicular. We then had the misfortune to lose four of our crew. As the boat made a most fearful crash, and fell alongside the vessel, James Grant was, I believe, killed on the spot, betwixt the s.h.i.+p and the boat; Edmund Robson and James Blackburn were thrown out, Joseph Bell jumped as the boat fell. My own impression is that the men all jumped from the boat on to the vessel. We saw them no more. There were four men standing in a group before the mainmast of the schooner. We implored them to come into the boat, but no one answered.”
Little wonder at that, James Gilbert! The ma.s.sive wreck must have seemed--at least to men who did not know the qualities of a lifeboat--a surer foothold than the tossed c.o.c.klesh.e.l.l with ”only two oars and a rudder,” out of which four of her own gallant crew had just been lost.
Even landsmen can perceive that it must have required much faith to trust a lifeboat in the circ.u.mstances.
”The next sea that struck the lifeboat,” continues the c.o.xswain, ”landed her within six feet of the foundation-stone of Tynemouth Dock, with a quickness seldom witnessed. The crew plied the remaining two oars to leeward against the rudder and boathook. We never saw anything till coming near the three s.h.i.+elds lifeboats. We asked them for oars to proceed back to the Friends.h.i.+p, but they had none to spare.”
Thus the brave Constance was baffled, and had to retire, severely wounded, from the fight. She drove, in her disabled and unmanageable condition, into the harbour. Of the four men thrown out of her, Grant and Robson, who had found temporary refuge in the wrecked schooner, perished. The other two, Bell and Blackburn, were buoyed up by their cork lifebelts, washed ash.o.r.e, and saved. The schooner itself was afterwards destroyed, and her crew of four men and a boy were lost.
Meanwhile the screams of those on board of her and the Stanley were borne on the gale to the vast crowds who, despite darkness and tempest, lined the neighbouring cliffs, and the s.h.i.+elds lifeboats just referred to made gallant attempts to approach the wrecks, but failed. Indeed, it seemed to have been a rash attempt on the part of the n.o.ble fellows of the Constance to have made the venture at all.
The second cabin of the Stanley was on deck, and formed the bridge, or outlook. On this a number of the pa.s.sengers and crew had taken refuge, but a tremendous sea carried it, and all its occupants, bodily away.
After this the fury of the sea increased, and about an hour before midnight the steamer, with a hideous crash, broke in two amids.h.i.+ps. The after part remained fast; the fore part swung round. All the people who remained on the after part were swept away and drowned. The new position into which the fore part of the wreck had been forced was so far an advantage to those who still clung to it, that the bows broke the first violence of the waves, and thus partially protected the exhausted people, thirty-five of whom still remained alive out of the sixty souls originally on board. Ten of these were pa.s.sengers--two being ladies.
Meanwhile fresh preparations were being made by the rocket-men.
Messengers had been sent in hot haste to Cullercoats for more rockets, those at Tynemouth having been exhausted. They arrived at five o'clock in the morning. By that time the tide had fallen considerably, admitting of a nearer approach to the wreck, and once more a gleam of hope cheered the hearts of the peris.h.i.+ng as they beheld the fiery messenger of mercy rush fiercely towards them from the sh.o.r.e. But hope was still delayed. Four of the rockets missed. The fifth pa.s.sed right over them, dropping the lifeline on the wreck, and drawing from the poor sufferers a feeble cheer, which was replied to l.u.s.tily from the sh.o.r.e.
This time, fortunately, no mistakes were made by those on board. The blocks and tackle were drawn out, the hawser on which the sling-lifebuoy traversed was fastened high up on the foremast to prevent the ropes fouling the rocks, as they had done on the first attempt; then the lifebuoy was run out, and, eventually, every soul was drawn in safety to the sh.o.r.e.
Thus did that battle end, with much of disaster and death to regret, indeed, but with upwards of thirty-five rescued lives to rejoice over.
I have now shown the action and bearing of our coast heroes, both in circ.u.mstances of triumphant victory and of partial success. Before proceeding to other matters it is well to add that, when intelligence of this disaster was telegraphed to the Lifeboat Inst.i.tution, a new lifeboat was immediately forwarded to Tynemouth, temporarily to replace the damaged Constance. Instructions were given for the relief of the widows and children of the two lifeboat-men who had perished, and 26 pounds was sent to the crew of the boat. At their next meeting the committee of the Inst.i.tution, besides recording their deep regret for the melancholy loss of life, voted 100 pounds in aid of a fund raised locally for the widows and seven children of the two men. They likewise bestowed their silver medal and a vote of thanks, inscribed on vellum, to Mr Lawrence Byrne, of the coastguard, in testimony of his gallant services on the occasion. Contributions were also raised by a local committee for the relief of the sufferers by these disasters, and a Volunteer Corps was formed to a.s.sist in working the rocket apparatus on future occasions of s.h.i.+pwreck.
Let me at this point earnestly request the reader who dwells in an _inland_ home, and who never hears the roaring of the terrible sea, carefully to note that in this case it was _men of the coast_ who did the work, and _people of the coast town_ who gave subscriptions, who sympathised with sufferers, and raised a Volunteer Corps. Ponder this well, good reader, and ask yourself the question, ”Is all as it should be here? Have I and my fellow-inlanders nothing to do but read, admire, and say, Well done?” A hint is sufficient at this point. I will return to the subject hereafter.
Sometimes our gallant lifeboat-men when called into action go through a very different and not very comfortable experience. They neither gain a glorious victory nor achieve a partial success, but, after all their efforts, risks, and exposure, find that their services are not required, and that they must return meekly home with nothing to reward them but an approving conscience!
One such incident I once had the opportunity of observing. I was living at the time--for purposes of investigation, and by special permission-- on board of the Gull Lights.h.i.+p, which lies directly off Ramsgate Harbour, close to the Goodwin Sands. It was in the month of March.
During the greater part of my two weeks' sojourn in that lights.h.i.+p the weather was reasonably fine, but one evening it came on to blow hard, and became what Jack styles ”dirty.” I went to rest that night in a condition which may be described as semi-sea-sick. For some time I lay in my bunk moralising on the madness of those who choose the sea for a profession. Suddenly I was roused--and the seasickness instantly cured--by the watch on deck shouting down the hatchway to the mate, ”South Sand Head Light is firing, sir, and sending up rockets!”
The mate sprang from his bunk--just opposite to mine--and was on the cabin floor before the sentence was well finished. Thrusting the poker with violence into the cabin fire, he rushed on deck. I jumped up and pulled on coat, nether garments, and shoes, as if my life depended on my speed, wondering the while at the poker incident. There was unusual need for clothing, for the night was bitterly cold.