Grace Darling, Eva Hope [free ebook reader for pc TXT] 📗

making another breach for a swifter flood, both shocks coming within fifteen minutes of each other. The bow snapped from the foremast, the bowsprit flew through the air up to the foretopmast, and the funnel, toppling overboard, dragged in its rear the starboard paddle-box and boat. The second boat had reached the waves bottom upmost, and notwithstanding there was another in the middle of the ship, she could not be reached. The water speedily put out the fires, compelling the engine-drivers to leave their station and ascend to the upper deck. It was known to be a certainty that the vessel must sink, and that very shortly, nevertheless there was no setting aside the tasks they had received orders to perform, although they were well aware that everything they did was useless, so far as the righting of the ship was concerned. Still every man kept to his post, even though he were overtaken by the waters and overwhelmed by them. Many, indeed, must have perished at the pumps, while others, keeping by the tackle, were struck down by falling timbers.

When the funnel was lost, every man was on the poop; three boats were afloat, containing all the women and children. The decisive moment having arrived, when all must be committed to the waves, the commander advised all who could to swim to the boats; but as in all probability this would lead to their being sunk, on account of the vast numbers requiring accommodation, several officers, in the face of this order, implored the men to stay in their present position, rather than sacrifice the women and children in attempting to save themselves. One or two had already started at the captain's bidding; but the majority waited behind, with the officers standing firmly and in orderly rank, in calm expectation of a speedy dissolution, uttering no repining, no words of mourning for their fate, or expressions of fear, but each man, in his loyalty to duty, quietly and inwardly prepared to meet his death! It is a touching and inspiring picture, that may well emulate every bosom to deeds of heroism. The stern of the vessel, which had reared as the bow descended, gave a sudden plunge and went under also, and those who had swarmed its deck felt the force of the waters uplifting them as their footing sank beneath them, and they were left to struggle as they might with the briny element.

The last sentence the captain spoke was to give the order for a boat to take up Mr. Brodie, whom he saw fighting with the waves. When the vessel was gone from under him, he was seen making his way to a block of woodwork, which was floating near; but a clumsy log bearing heavily towards him stunned him, and he at once disappeared. Colonel Seton also made his grave with the brave troops he had commanded. Captain Wright and a few others managed to keep their heads above water by clinging to a drifting spar, and about two hundred men for a time held on to pieces of the wreck, part of the mainmast supporting a great number. The principal portion of the deck being undestroyed, it served as a raft for those who could reach it, but the numbers were thinning rapidly, as one after another became exhausted and sank; and three boats were carried away, bottom uppermost.

Cornet Bond, having with him a life-preserver, succeeded in filling it with air, and by its aid reached the land in safety. Drowning men were struggling in all directions, and their groans and cries were fearfully appalling. Two men, who were cleaving the water finely, not far distant from him, Mr. Bond perceived to go under all in a moment shrieking, being seized by the voracious sharks which abound on that coast. The cornet had two miles to swim, which he accomplished with difficulty. As he neared the shore, he found himself caught in a forest of tangled sea-weed, from which he at last extricated himself after severe exertion. Having achieved his own preservation he looked round for some trace of life, and was surprised to find his own horse as the first object he should meet with in his strange and perilous situation.

As soon as morning dawned, Mr. Bond sought the place where he had effected his landing to help nine of his companions, who were nearing the shore on the raft. He climbed over the crags in search of a favourable place to approach, where he assisted them in gaining a footing. They were almost in a state of nudity, having been compelled to rush from their berths without waiting to attire themselves. They observed three others in a like condition, floating in by the aid of a spar, and sent up to heaven an earnest petition that they might have the power to rescue them, and eagerly waited their chance. The three men had no control whatever over the spar; it was as much as they could do to preserve their hold. Washed about backwards and forwards, their peril seemed imminent; but at last a fortuitous wave carried them on to the rocks amid the rejoicings of their compatriots. Captain Wright and five others drifted towards Point Danger, where they encountered serious obstacles to their landing in the immense growths of seaweed, and the wall of surf that spanned the beach. In order to lighten the weight depending on the fragment of wreck that had sustained them until now, Wright separated from it, trusting to his own prowess to reach the shore. Several others followed his example, and all were successful in their endeavours; and after walking a little way up the country, they fell in with Captain Wright and his company. During the day they lighted on a fisherman's hut, but nothing was available there, so Mr. Wright trudged off to a farm-house, about a couple of leagues distant, where he procured and forwarded articles of food to those he had left half-famished in the hut. The following day, waifs from the wreck being continually helped ashore by those already landed, the number amounted to sixty-eight men, including eighteen sailors, and these all found temporary refuge at Captain Small's farm.

But coming back to the scene of the disaster, it will be remembered that the women and children were packed carefully in the cutter, under the superintendence of Mr. Richards, and ordered to keep within a restricted limit of the wreck. As it disappeared, the boat was rowed up to take in as many as possible, but then numbers more were left straining with wistful eyes after the heavily-freighted craft, as she slowly receded. It was with bitter pangs that Mr. Richards was obliged to refuse the help he could not give to the poor drowning wretches, for the boat was near swamping with the burden she already bore. Here, again, the breakers threatened to prevent a landing. Vast flakes of foam were hurled over the boat, as she fought her way against the tide. Seeing, therefore, that the waves formed an invincible barrier at the point they were striving to reach, Mr. Richards drew back into the open, and signalling to the other boats to keep clear also, he rowed for several miles along the coast in hopes of finding a smoother sea, but to no purpose.

Break of day showed them, in easy distance, a schooner, which was followed by the indefatigable commander; but as they could not succeed in making themselves observed, and a favourable wind springing up, the schooner soon shot further ahead, and was lost to sight. Again, however, it appeared, and another effort was made to attract attention by elevating a shawl, which happily served to arrest its progress. The helpless company were received on board the "Lioness" of Cape Town, having suffered terribly during the twelve hours they had been tossing in their little open bark on the sea. They had neither eaten nor drunk of anything since their departure from the ship, and their depression of spirits had been considerably increased by the uncertain fate of their friends. Thirty-six men had already been taken up and provided for by Captain Ramsden and his wife, whose ready sympathy and care were warmly appreciated by the suffering men.

Mr. Richards and Mr. Renwick, being assured by the captain that he would await their return, started out again in the cutter to the scene of the wreck, hoping to find that some of the passengers and crew had managed to survive, but no human form was to be seen in any direction, and they reluctantly retraced their journey. The number of souls saved by the schooner amounted in all to one hundred and sixteen. Many who had held on to floating timbers, lost their hold, as strength ebbed away. Others, who perseveringly clung till morning, seeing no prospect of help, struck out for land, which the greater part were enabled to reach, while the remainder either became powerless by long exposure and over-exertion, or were seized and devoured by the ravenous sharks. The purser of the "Birkenhead," with several companions, were drifting on one piece of wreck, when they observed a portion of a boat that was floating towards them, just under the surface of the water. They became filled with eager anticipations. But release was not to come just yet, for the boat slowly passed them, never coming within reach, and they were forced again to wait in hope of another opportunity. Happily, this erelong presented itself, in the identical schooner which had preserved the lives of so many of their comrades.

Captain Small having promised to do his best for the comfort of the men who had thus unexpectedly invaded his farm, Captain Wright set out again for the shore, wandering along, for several days, in order that he might rescue any poor fellow that had perchance reached the land, in all probability to perish there without assistance. Here he was aided by the crew of a whale-boat, who coasted along with him inside the line of the sea-weed barrier. They came upon two men clinging to pieces of wood amongst the slippery weeds, just in time to save them from the jaws of death; and two others were discovered by Captain Wright, lying in holes of the rock, where they had crawled, too faint to move any farther. These four, owing to the kindness and attention of the captain, were shortly and fully restored.

Again, one or two officers returned to renew the quest, but their efforts were fruitless. Corpses they found washed ashore for burial, but no more living men were seen. As soon as intelligence of the catastrophe was received at Cape Town, a steamer, "Rhadamanthus," was dispatched to take a survey of the spot. Captain Small was relieved by this vessel of the unfortunate men who had been thus necessarily quartered upon him; and they were conveyed to Simon's Bay, touching there on Monday, March 1st. The "Rhadamanthus" having thoroughly explored the coast where the wreck had occurred, was able to state with certainty that not one person living had been left behind of those who had formed the passengers and crew of the "Birkenhead."

Captain Wright, an officer of capacity and experience, accustomed to the strictest forms of martial order and law, felt bound to say that the power of discipline in the troops, and their quick obedience to command, was greater than he had deemed possible, and excited the more astonishment as the men were principally new to the service. Each one acted promptly on the judgment, and at the order of his superior officer, and not a sound of murmuring escaped a man until the waters engulphed him. "All officers received their orders, and had them carried out, as if the men were embarking instead of going to the bottom; there was only this difference, that I never saw any embarkation conducted with so little noise and confusion."

The "Birkenhead" started for Algoa Bay, bearing