CHAPTER FOUR.
THE RESCUE.
Fortunate is it for this land that those who war for evil and those whofight for good do so side by side; and well is it for poor humanity thatthe bane and the antidote grow together. The misanthrope sends hispoisonous streams throughout the land, but the philanthropist erects hisdams everywhere to stem the foul torrents and turn them aside. TheInfidel plants unbelief with reckless hand far and wide, but theChristian scatters the "Word" broadcast over the land. The sordidshipowner strews the coast with wreck and murdered fellow-creatures;but, thank God, the righteous shipowner--along with other like-mindedmen--sends forth a fleet of lifeboats from almost every bay and covealong the shore to rob the deep of its prey, and rescue the perishing.
In the bay where the _Swordfish_ was stranded there chanced to be alifeboat. Most of her noble crew were, at the time the vessel struck,in chapel, probably engaged in singing the hymns of the great JohnWesley, or listening to the preaching of the "old, old story" of thesalvation of souls through faith in Jesus Christ. But there were bodiesto be saved that day as well as souls, and the stout arms of thelifeboat crew were needed.
The cry was quickly raised, "A wreck in the bay!" The shout thatnaturally followed was, "The lifeboat!" A stalwart Cornish gentlemansprang from his pew to serve his Master in another field. He was theHonorary Local Secretary of the Lifeboat Institution--a man brimful ofphysical energy, and with courage and heart for every good work. Notime was lost. Six powerful horses were procured so quickly that itseemed as if they had started ready harnessed into being. Willing handsdragged the lifeboat, mounted on its carriage, from its shed, the horseswere attached, and a loud cheer arose as the huge craft was whirledalong the road towards the bay. The scene of the wreck was a miledistant, and a large town had to be traversed on the way thither.Hundreds of worshippers were on the streets, returning home, withchastened thoughts and feelings perchance, from church and chapel.There was excitement, however, in their looks, for the echo of that cry,"The lifeboat!" had reached the ears of many, and eager inquiries werebeing made. Presently the lifeboat itself, with all its peculiar gear,came thundering through the town, rudely dispelling, for a few moments,the solemnity of the Sabbath day. Hundreds of men, women, and childrenfollowed in its train, and hundreds more joined at every turn of themain thoroughfare.
"A wreck in the bay!" "Crew in the rigging!" "Mainmast gone!" "Shecan't hold long together in such a sea!" "We'll be in time yet!""Hurrah!"
Such were some of the exclamations heard on all sides as the rescuersdashed along, and the excited multitude irresistibly followed. Evenfemales ventured to join the throng, and, holding shawls tightly roundtheir heads and shoulders, went down on the exposed sands and faced thepelting storm.
In less than half an hour after the alarm was given, the lifeboat sweptdown to the beach, the horses, obedient to the rein, flew round, theboat's bow was presented to the sea, and the carriage thrust as far intothe surf as was possible. Then hundreds of willing hands seized thelaunching ropes, and the boat, with her crew already seated, and theoars out, sprang from her carriage into the hissing flood.
A tremendous billow met her. "Steady lads, give way!" cried thecoxswain, on whose steering everything depended at the first plunge.The short oars cracked as the men strained every muscle, and shot theboat, not over, but right through the falling deluge. Of course it wasfilled, but the discharging tubes freed it in a few seconds, and thecheers of the spectators had scarce burst forth when she rushed out tomeet the succeeding breaker. There was another breathless moment, whenhundreds of men, eager to vent their surcharged breast in another cheer,could only gaze and gasp--then a roar, a world of falling foam, and thelifeboat was submerged. But the gallant coxswain met the shock straightas an arrow, cleft the billow, and leaped onward--irresistibly onward--over, through, and in the teeth of raging wind and waves, until theywere fairly out and dancing on the chaotic ocean.
But, just before this took place, the captain of the _Swordfish_,ignorant of the fact that the lifeboat was hastening to the rescue,unfortunately took a fatal step. Believing that no boat would ventureto put off in such a gale, he ordered the ship's launch to be lowered.This was done, but it was immediately upset and stove against the side.Then the jollyboat was lowered, and nine men and the captain got intoit. The old Indian officer, with his daughter and all the women andchildren, were also, with great difficulty, put on board of it.
Captain Phelps was cool and self-possessed in that hour of danger. Hesteered the boat with consummate skill, and succeeded in keeping herafloat for some time. On she rushed, as if driven by an irresistibleimpulse, amid the cheers of the crowd, and the prayers of many that shemight safely reach the land. The brave fellows who manned her struggledhard and well, but in vain. When the boat was little more three hundredyards from the shore an immense breaker overtook her.
"She'll be swamped!" "She's gone!" "God save her!" and similar criesburst from those on shore. Next moment the wave had the boat in itspowerful grasp, tossed her on its crest, whirled her round, and turnedher keel up, leaving her freight of human beings struggling in the sea.
Oh! it was a terrible thing for the thousands on land to stand so closeto those drowning men and women without the power of stretching out ahand to save! No one could get near them, although they were so near.They were tossed like straws on the raging surf. Now hurled on thecrest of a wave, now sucked into the hollow beneath, and overwhelmedagain and again. The frail ones of the hapless crew soon perished. Thestrong men struggled on with desperate energy to reach the shore. Threeof them seized the keel of the boat, but three times were they drivenfrom their hold by the force of the seas. Two or three caught at thefloating oars, but most of them were soon carried away by theunder-current. The captain, however, with five or six of the men, stillstruggled powerfully for life, and succeeded in swimming close to thebeach.
Up to this point there was one of the spectators who had stood behindthe shelter of a bush, surveying, with sorrowful countenance, the tragicscene. He was a short, but fine-looking and very athletic man--achampion Cornish wrestler, named William Jeff. He was a first-rateboatman, and a bold swimmer. Fortunately he also possessed a generous,daring heart. When this man saw Captain Phelps near the shore, hesprang forward, dashed into the surf, at the imminent risk of his life,and caught the captain by the hair. The retreating water well-nighswept the brave rescuer away, but other men of the town, fearless likehimself, leaped forward, joined hands, caught hold of Jeff, and hauledhim safe ashore along with the captain, who was carried away in a stateof insensibility. Again and again, at the risk of his life, did thechampion wrestler wrestle with the waves and conquer them! Aided by hisdaring comrades he dragged three others from the jaws of death. Ofthose who entered the jolly-boat of the _Swordfish_, only five reachedthe land. These were all sailors, and one of them, Captain Phelps, wasso much exhausted by his exertions that, notwithstanding all thatcordials, rubbing, and medical skill could effect, he sank in a fewminutes, and died.
But while this was occurring on the beach, another scene of disaster wastaking place at the wreck. The lifeboat, after a severe pull of morethan an hour, reached the vessel. As she was passing under her stern agreat sea struck the boat and immediately capsized her. All on boardwere at once thrown out. The boat was, however, one of thoseself-righting crafts, which had just at that time been introduced. Sheimmediately righted, emptied herself, and the crew climbed into her bymeans of the life-lines festooned round her sides; but the bravecoxswain was jammed under her by some wreck, and nearly lost his life--having to dive three or four times before he could extricate himself.When at last dragged into the boat by his comrades he was apparentlydead. It was then discovered that the man who had pulled the stroke oarhad been swept overboard and carried away. His companions believed himto be lost, but he had on one of the cork life-belts of the LifeboatInstitution, and was by it floated to the shore, where a brave fellowswam his horse out
through the surf and rescued him.
Meanwhile, the lifeboat men were so much injured and exhausted that theywere utterly incapable of making any attempt to rescue those whoremained of the crew of the _Swordfish_. It was as much as they coulddo to guide the boat again towards the shore, steered by the secondcoxswain, who, although scarcely able to stand, performed his duty withconsummate skill.
Nothing of all this could be seen by the thousands on shore, owing tothe spray which thickened the atmosphere, and the distance of the wreck.But when the lifeboat came in sight they soon perceived that somethingwas wrong, and when she drew near they rushed to meet her. Dismayfilled every breast when they saw the coxswain carried out apparentlydead, with a stream of blood trickling from a wound in his temple, andlearned from the worn-out and disabled crew that no rescue had beeneffected. Immediately the local secretary before mentioned, who hadbeen all this time caring for those already rescued, and preparing forthose expected, called for a volunteer crew, and the second coxswain atonce shouted, "I'll go again, sir!" This man's bravery produced awonderful moral effect. He was not permitted to go, being already toomuch exhausted, but his example caused volunteers to come forwardpromptly. Among them were men of the coastguard, a body to which thecountry is deeply indebted for annually saving many lives. Severalgentlemen of the town also volunteered. With the new crew, and thechief officer of the coastguard at the helm, the noble boat was launcheda second time.
The struggle which followed was tremendous, for they had to pull directto windward in the teeth of wind and sea. Sometimes the boat would risealmost perpendicularly to the waves, and the spectators gazed with batedbreath, fearing that she must turn over; then she would gain a yard ortwo, and again be checked. Thus, inch by inch, they advanced until thewreck was reached, and the sailors were successfully taken off. Butthis was not accomplished without damage to the rescuers, one of whomhad three ribs broken, while others were more or less injured.
Soon the boat was seen making once more for the beach. On she came onthe wings of the wind. As she drew near, the people crowded towards heras far as the angry sea would permit.
"How many saved?" was the anxious question.
As the boat rushed forward, high on the crest of a tumultuous billow,the bowman stood up and shouted, "Nine saved!" and in another moment,amid the ringing cheers of the vast multitude, the lifeboat leaped uponthe sand with the rescued men!
"Nine saved!" A pleasant piece of news that was to be read next day inthe papers by those who contributed to place that lifeboat on the coast;for nine souls saved implies many more souls gladdened and filled withunutterable gratitude to Almighty God.
But "Twenty lost!" A dismal piece of news this to those at whose doorthe murders will lie till the day of doom. Even John Webster, Esquire,grew pale when he heard of it, and his hard heart beat harder than usualagainst his iron ribs as he sat in the habitation of his soul and gazedat his deceased wife's father over the chimney-piece, until he almostthought the canvas image frowned upon him.
There was more, however, behind these twenty lost lives than Mr Websterdreamed of. The links in the chains of Providence are curiouslyintermingled, and it is impossible to say, when one of them gives way,which, or how many, will fall along with it, as the next chapter willshow.
Saved by the Lifeboat Page 4
