A Yacht Voyage Round England Part 20

Owing to the state of the weather, no communication could be held with the mainland for two days, during which time the nine shipwrecked persons were treated with the utmost kindness by Mr Darling and his daughter. The calm bravery of Grace, who was at that time only twenty-two years of age, excited the admiration of all who heard it.

Testimonials and suitable presents, together with seven hundred pounds sterling raised by subscription, showed how highly the public appreciated her conduct. The Forfarshire steamer, of three hundred tons, had sailed the previous evening from Hull, bound for Dundee; but her boilers becoming defective, the engines could no longer work, and at three o'clock the following morning she struck on the Longstone, the outermost of the Farne Islands, between which the master was endeavouring to run the vessel. The mate, with seven seamen, lowered a boat, and were escaping, when one of the pa.s.sengers leaped on board, others in vain attempting to follow his example. The nine occupants of this boat were the following morning picked up by a coaster and carried into Shields,--they, with those rescued by the Darlings, being the only persons who escaped out of sixty souls.

Four years after this heroic deed, Grace Darling lay upon her dying bed.

The grief of the family was very great, for Grace was endeared to them all. "Do not mourn for me," she said; "I am only exchanging this life for one far better. If I remained here, I should be subject to trouble and sickness; but in dying I go to be with Christ my Saviour." Two beautiful memorials of Grace have been erected: one in Bamborough Churchyard, and the other in Saint Cuthbert's Chapel, on the Farne Island. Our picture represents that in Bamborough Churchyard. Her sleeping figure lies under a Gothic canopy, backed by the blue waves, and within sight of the scene of her heroism.

"She is lying and sleeping now Under the verdant turf.

Ah, there were breakers she might not ride!

And her hair grew damp in that strong, dark tide, But not with the briny surf.

"And out of her lonely grave She bids us this lesson prove, That the weakest may wipe some tears that flow, And the strongest power for good below Is the might of unselfish love."

In 1860, the Iris, of Arbroath, struck on the rocks close to where the Forfarshire was lost. The wind was so terrific, and the sea ran so high, that the crew were afraid to take to their boat. They accordingly leaped into the water, and were washed on to the rock, though it was with the greatest difficulty that they managed to reach it. Here they remained twelve hours, the sea being so rough that no boat could come to them. Towards evening, the wind having slightly fallen, William Darling, who was then seventy-five years of age, and had been watching the wreck all day, put off with several hands from the lighthouse, and rescued the poor fellows from their perilous position.

We had a scramble over a portion of the Farne Islands, on which there are two lighthouses at a considerable distance from each other. There are three keepers belonging to the two, but only one remains on watch at a time; he has to attend to both lights, and has to walk from house to house. The keeper showed us a curious contrivance by which he can at once rouse the sleeping keeper without leaving his own post. It consists of a hand-bellows attached to a tube which rings a bell at the ear of the sleeper. He told us that occasionally blackbirds and thrushes are killed by striking against the lantern. We saw a number of rabbits running in and out of their burrows. There is an old chapel which has been restored and another building, converted into a dwelling-house for the clergyman, who at times comes across from Durham.

Nat, who had landed with us, was very anxious to keep a young cormorant which he had picked up. He took it under his arm, intending to carry off his prize; but the mother bird attacked him so furiously with its long beak, that it nearly put out one of his eyes, and succeeded in severely biting his lip. On this, Nat very naturally let go the youngster, which scuttled off, determined not to be caught again, and, taking to the water, swam away at a great rate. The odour produced by the birds was anything but pleasant. We saw a number of cormorants diving in search of prey, and they came up with eels in their mouths.

One had caught a big eel, which it battered against the rock until it had killed it; but others gobbled down small eels without the slightest hesitation. The young birds were the oddest-looking creatures imaginable. Their covering was a hard black skin, with here and there black woolly down upon it. The old birds' heads and necks were black, speckled with white feathers, while the upper part of the body was brown mingled with black. They had also white patches on their thighs, and yellow pouches under the throat edged with white. They were fully three feet long; so that, with their strong beaks, they were formidable antagonists.

The gulls were even more numerous than the cormorants. Though they kept out of our way, they did not appear otherwise to fear us. They looked very large on the wing, as their white feathers glanced in the rays of the setting sun; but they are not more than half the size of the cormorant. They act the useful part of scavengers on the coast, and eagerly pick up all the offal thrown on the sh.o.r.e.

We returned to the yachts, and once more made sail. We got a good view through our gla.s.ses of the old towers of Dunstanborough Castle. As the wind fell light, we pulled in to have a look at it, papa being anxious to do so, as he had visited it in his younger days. The weather-beaten ruin stands on the summit of a black cliff, rising sheer out of the ocean. Three towers, one square, and the others semicircular, remain, with the greater portion of the outer wall, enclosing several acres of green turf, over which, instead of mail-clad warriors, peaceable sheep now wander. The princ.i.p.al tower overlooks a deep gully or gap in the rocks, up which the sea, during easterly gales, rushes with tremendous force and terrific noise, lashed into ma.s.ses of foam, which leap high over the crumbling walls. This gully is known by the significant name of the Rumble Churn. This ocean-circled fortress was erected--so say the chroniclers--in the fourteenth century, by Thomas, Earl of Lancaster. Many a tale of siege and border warfare its stones could tell; for the Cheviot hills--the boundary between Scotland and England-- can be seen from the summit of its battlements. Having bravely held out for Queen Margaret of Anjou, it was completely dismantled in the reign of Edward the Fourth, and has ever since remained like a lion deprived of its claws, crouching over the ocean, a sad memento of its former power. Had it remained until gunpowder was in general use, it would probably have been entirely overthrown.

Papa described to us Warkworth Castle, which stands further south, above the banks of the Coquet river, on a high wood-covered hill. The greater portion of the ruins remain; indeed, the woodwork alone has disappeared, and the masonry is in so good a state of preservation, that the late Duke of Northumberland proposed to restore it, and make it his residence, instead of Alnwick Castle. Near it a hermit dwelt in a cavern: he became a hermit in consequence of having killed the brother of his betrothed, whom he mistook for a rival, after his return from the Crusades.

We sighted Coquet Island, with its square white lighthouse, from which a light burst forth as we approached. Near it were the castellated dwellings of the keepers, painted different colours. In its neighbourhood are dangerous rocks, and over each a red ray is shown, to warn vessels which might otherwise run upon them. We were now almost constantly in sight of some light, which enabled us to know our exact position. d.i.c.k and I turned in while Coquet Island light still shone brightly.

We expected the next morning to be off Hartlepool, at the mouth of the Tees; but when day broke we found ourselves in sight of a picturesque castle standing on a point of land, with a broad river flowing below it, and a town at its foot. When we asked Truck what it was, he answered:

"That's Tynemouth, at the mouth of the Tyne; and the captain says he intends to run in there to have a look at the place. It's as well worth seeing as any place we have been to. Beyond it you see North Shields, and South Shields on the southern bank; and higher up is Newcastle, where coals come from, as you've heard tell of."

We laughed at Truck's description. "If they don't come from Newcastle, I don't know where else they come from," remarked d.i.c.k.

"A good many other places, young gentleman. There's no small quant.i.ty shipped from Sunderland and Swansea; and also from some of the Scotch ports. If we go up to Newcastle, we shall see the curious way they are put on board the colliers."

"But why haven't we got further?" I asked, "Because we have had light winds, and the tides have been against us most of the night," answered Truck.

As not only the tide, but the wind also was against us, papa, on coming on deck, agreed to run up the Tyne. Hauling our wind, we stood in for North Shields, pa.s.sing close under the lighthouse, which stands amid the ruins of the castle.

North Shields was evidently an active commercial place. Shipbuilding was going on in the yards, and vessels were loading with coals, bound to all parts of the world, each with a number of keels, or oval boats, alongside, which had brought down the coal from the upper part of the river. On board the vessels cranes were at work lifting up tubs of coal from out of the keels, and depositing them in their holds. Of these keels I shall have more to say by-and-by. Steamers emitting black wreaths of smoke were coming and going,--some towing vessels out to sea, others taking them up the harbour; while several were conveying pa.s.sengers. After breakfast we went on board one of the pa.s.senger vessels, for papa and Uncle Tom did not wish to carry the yachts higher up.

We had clear evidence that we were in a region of coal. The greater number of vessels we met were colliers, their crews begrimed with coal dust. "Everybody," as d.i.c.k remarked, "had a coaly look." People were heard conversing in a broad Northumbrian accent, with a burr in most of their words. They were broad-shouldered men, capable of doing any amount of hard work. We came in sight of a fine stone bridge with nine elliptical arches, which connects Newcastle with Gateshead, on the opposite bank. Above it is another magnificent bridge; it is double, the lower roadway, ninety feet above the river, being used for carriages and foot pa.s.sengers, while the upper carries the railway. It has two piers at the margin of the river, and four others in the stream itself, besides smaller piers. It was curious to walk under it, and to hear the trains rumbling by overhead.

Newcastle stands on the north bank of the river. At first we thought it a very smoky town, but on emerging from the narrow old streets we reached some fine broad thoroughfares with large houses and magnificent public buildings. At the quays were a vast number of vessels, some of considerable size. Formerly coals used to be put on board vessels from the oval boats I have before mentioned, called keels, of which a considerable number are still employed. Each keel carries about twenty tons of coal, the larger ma.s.ses being piled up in the vessel, but smaller coal is carried in tubs, each keel having about eight tubs. The keels are antique-looking craft, such as were probably used in the earliest days of our history. They are propelled by large oars. The keel man, commencing at the bow, presses the oar before him, until he reaches the after part of the boat; he then hurries back to the bow, and again puts down his oar. The keel men are a fine hardy race. Formerly they were spoken of as "bullies;" but this, among the colliers, means "brothers," or is derived from "boolie," that is, "beloved." Though their manners are rough, their character is good, and they are remarkably friendly to each other. Being all "keel bullies" or "keel brothers," they support an extensive establishment in Newcastle called the "Keelmen's Hospital." We met a whole fleet of these keels as we came up, working their way down with their "puys" or oars. A considerable quant.i.ty of coal is scattered over the sides when hoisting it on board, and this is brought back by the flood tide into shallow water, where a number of people are seen in their little cobles dredging for it.

The larger number of vessels are, however, loaded from the "straiths."

These are platforms placed over the river and connected with tramways, joined to the various pits. The waggons, each containing two and a half tons of coal, come down for many miles until they reach the "straith,"

when they are brought to a stand. In the "straith" is a hatchway, which opens by machinery, through which the waggon descends with a man in it, who, when it arrives over the hold, unfastens a catch which secures the bottom of the waggon; this being made to turn upon hinges, like a trap door when opened, the whole of the coal is poured into the hold.

Attached to the suspending machinery are two counterpoising weights, which being less heavy than the waggon laden with coal, do not impede its descent. The moment it is discharged of its coal it is drawn up again by these weights.

As we descended the river we were much amused by seeing these coal waggons running swiftly on the "straith," stop a moment, then go down with the descending men; and having got rid of their coal with a loud rushing noise, rise up again, as if perfectly aware of what they were, about.

We returned in the afternoon to the yachts, and stood out to sea, hoping to obtain a slant of wind which might carry us further down the coast.

Having seen the largest coal-shipping place, we had no particular wish to visit Sunderland, the chief port of Durham. Beyond it is Seaham, which has of late years sprung into existence. The mines in the neighbourhood belonged to the late Marquis of Londonderry, who wisely formed a fine harbour here by constructing two piers running out from the land; and his heir has been richly rewarded by his enterprise.

Further south is the seaport of Hartlepool, jutting out into the sea, a short distance from the river Tees. It was once a place of great strength, and contained one of the most ancient monasteries in the kingdom. A portion of the walls which defended the old haven still remains; and the new harbour has been formed by a pier run out from the south side of the town. It will not, however, hold vessels of large tonnage. The inhabitants are mostly engaged in fishing.

The next day we were in sight of the Yorkshire coast. Pa.s.sing Whitby and Scarborough, after rounding Flamborough Head, opening up Bridlington Bay, we stood for Spurn Head, on the top of which are two lighthouses.

As we had still sufficient daylight, we ran up the Humber to visit Hull, which stands on its northern bank. A large number of coasters were at anchor before its extensive quays; it has also docks of great size.

Numbers of steam-vessels were gliding in and out of the harbour. It is properly called Kingston-upon-Hull. It took its name when it was purchased by Edward the First, who, seeing the great natural advantages of its position, formed here a fortified town and port. There is nothing very attractive in the appearance of the place; but we were interested by a visit to a fine column on a square pedestal, erected to the memory of the great Wilberforce, whose statue adorns the summit.

The town contains two colleges, several hospitals, and numerous other public inst.i.tutions. We went on board the guardship stationed here, with some of the officers, with whom papa was acquainted, and were interested in hearing an account of the Coastguard system. Ships are stationed at different ports round the coast, and are called "Coastguard" or district ships, for Coastguard and Royal Naval Coast Volunteer duties. The English coast is divided into six districts; namely, the Hull district, which extends from Berwick to Cromer; the Harwich, from North Yarmouth to Ramsgate; the Newhaven district, from Folkestone, including Southampton Water, the Isle of Wight, and Lymington; the Falmouth and Weymouth district, including Bournemouth, Land's End, and taking in Penzance and the Scilly Isles. The rest of the coast is divided between Milford and Liverpool. Scotland has two "Coastguard" districts, the east and the west coasts. Ireland has also two districts. The services on which the ships are employed are numerous. First, for the protection of the revenue; to keep up a reserve of seamen, and as a depot for stores and clothing. The captain of the ship takes the duties of the old inspecting commanders, and the officers--of whom there are a large number appointed to each ship for that especial purpose--have command of the different stations. Each ship has four or five tenders attached to her, employed in protecting either the revenue or the fisheries. The ships generally go to sea for a month or so in the course of the year, and are kept ready to proceed to any part of the world. They do not keep up their usual complement of men, but when required the crew are drawn from the Coastguard. Besides these ships, there are six in England and two in Scotland, called "drill ships." They, however, never go to sea. They are employed in receiving on board the Royal Naval Reserve Force,--seamen as well as officers,-- who go through a periodical drill. The Royal Naval Coast Volunteers also drill on board these ships. These volunteers are seafaring men, and they rank with ordinary seamen, and not, like the men of the Naval Reserve, with able-bodied seamen.

Both the men of the Reserve and Coast Volunteers are expected to drill twenty-eight days in the year, either on board a district ship, a drill ship, or at the sh.o.r.e battery. By these means an efficient body of men is kept up, ready for immediate service in case of war. The men quarrel at times among themselves, the result frequently being a black eye; but they will never tell upon each other; and sometimes a very curious cause is a.s.signed as the reason of having a black eye. A man once said "that he had slipped and kicked himself," though how he managed to kick his own eye it is difficult to say! Another reason often given is, "that they have run up against a pump-handle," The man-of-war hats are very unpopular, for they are particularly heavy. Good straw hats having lately been scarce, an armourer was found constructing one of tin; but that must have been not only heavier, but much hotter. The men usually make their own hats, and as usually manage to lose them. As soon as the hat is found, the man is placed before it, and compelled to look steadily at it for a certain time.

We got under weigh again in the afternoon of the next day, and stood down the Humber, until we came in sight once more of the Spurn lights.

During the next night, while we were steering for the Dudgeon floating light-vessel, one of the men on the look-out shouted--

"A light on the starboard bow! Starboard the helm! Hard a starboard!"

and I saw a screw steamer rapidly approaching us. Had the night been thick, and the look-out not been on the alert, we should certainly have been run down.

It was two hours before we sighted Dudgeon light, and from thence we steered for Cromer, which we knew by its having a bright light revolving every minute. Outside of it was the Hasborough floating light, and beyond that another light-vessel. We came off Cromer in the forenoon, when the vessels were hove-to; and we pulled in for the sh.o.r.e to visit some friends of Uncle Tom.

We landed among a number of fishing-boats, the place itself being a large and flourishing village, though there were a number of nice residences for people who visit it during the summer. In the middle rises a remarkably handsome church, its tower rising high above the surrounding buildings.

Along the coast are several round towers, which were built during the last war to defend the sh.o.r.e from invasion, though at present they would be of very little use. Papa was so pleased with the appearance of the place, that he said he should come there some summer with the rest of the family.

Leaving Cromer, we stood on for Great Yarmouth, inside a long line of sandbanks, which are known by the light-vessels stationed at their different ends.

Great Yarmouth is situated on the seash.o.r.e, at the southern end of Norfolk. The river Yare follows a serpentine course, and falls into the sea at the village of Gorleston, a short distance from Yarmouth to the southward.

We waited until a pilot came on board to take us in, as the entrance is very narrow, between two long wooden piers, one projecting a considerable way into the sea. Further along the sh.o.r.e to the south rises a high sandy cliff, on the top of which we saw a good-sized vessel building. We asked the pilot how she could ever be launched, and he told us that she would be eased down the cliffs by ropes at high tide, when the water, rushing close up to the base, would float her.

We brought-up at some little distance from the entrance, opposite a line of neat-looking cottages, forming the village of Gorleston, and inhabited chiefly by pilots. As it was getting late, we settled not to go on sh.o.r.e until the following morning.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

YARMOUTH.

After an early breakfast, we landed on the north side of the river, and made our way over a level sandy plain towards a tall column which rose in the midst of it. The plain is called the Denes, and extends from the mouth of the river to the town. It is scantily covered with gra.s.s and sea plants, round which the sand collects in little hillocks.

We had to steer our way among a vast number of tanned nets spread out to dry. Here and there fishermen and their wives and daughters were employed in mending those which had received damage. There must have been acres upon acres of these nets. We soon reached the column, which we found was erected by the inhabitants of the county to the memory of Lord Nelson, who was a Norfolk man. At the top of each side of the pedestal were the names of the hero's chief victories. At the summit is a ball, on which stands the figure of Britannia holding a trident and a laurel wreath. The keeper invited us to enter; and we ascended by a flight of two hundred and seventeen steps to a gallery at the top of the column, the total height being one hundred and forty-four feet. From the platform we got a good bird's-eye view of the town below us, and the country as far as Norwich, and a wide extent of ocean.

"Have you been here long?" I asked the keeper.

"Not so long as the man who had charge before me," he answered; "he came here when the column was first put up, and here he stayed for wellnigh forty years."