Our Sailors Part 16

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

SPIRITED AND GALLANT EXPLOITS.

A REMARKABLE RESCUE.

The following account is given in the words of Admiral Castle:--

"In the year 1837, I commanded HMS _Pylades_, on the East India station.

We were on our return home, by the way of the Cape of Good Hope, when, on the 8th of May of that year, we were off Cape L'Agulhus. It was blowing a heavy gale of wind, with a tremendous sea running, such a sea as one rarely meets with anywhere but off the Cape, when just at nightfall, as we were taking another reef in the topsails, a fine young seaman, a mizen-topman, James Miles by name, fell from the mizen-topsail-yard, and away he went overboard. In his descent he came across the chain-span of the weather-quarter davits, and with such force that he actually broke it. I could scarcely have supposed that he would have escaped being killed in his fall; but, as the ship flew away from him, he was seen rising on the crest of a foaming wave, apparently unhurt. The life-buoy was let go as soon as possible, but by that time the ship had already got a considerable distance from him; and even could he reach it, I felt that the prospect of saving him was small indeed, as I had no hope, should we find him, of being able to pick him out of that troubled sea; and I had strong fears that a boat would be unable to swim, to go to his rescue, should I determine to lower one. I was very doubtful as to what was my duty. I might, by allowing a boat to be lowered, sacrifice the lives of the officer and crew, who would, I was very certain, at all events volunteer to man her. It was a moment of intense anxiety. I instantly, however, wore the ship round; and while we stood towards the spot, as far as we could guess, where the poor fellow had fallen, the thoughts I have mentioned pa.s.sed through my mind. The sad loss of the gallant Lieutenant Gore and a whole boat's crew a short time before, about the same locality, was present to my thoughts. To add to the chances of our not finding the man, it was now growing rapidly dusk. As we reached the spot, every eye on board was straining through the gloom to discern the object of our search, but neither Miles nor the life-buoy were to be seen. Still, I could not bring myself to leave him to one of the most dreadful of fates. He was a good swimmer, and those who knew him best a.s.serted that he would swim to the last. For my part, I almost hoped that the poor fellow had been stunned, and would thus have sunk at once, and been saved the agony of despair he must be feeling were he still alive. Of one thing I felt sure, from the course we had steered, that we were close to the spot where he had fallen. Anxiously we waited,--minute after minute pa.s.sed by,--still no sound was heard; not a speck could be seen to indicate his position. At least half an hour had pa.s.sed by. The strongest man alive could not support himself in such a sea as this for so long, I feared.

Miles must long before this have sunk, unless he could have got hold of the life-buoy, and of that I had no hope. I looked at my watch by the light of the binnacle lamp. 'It is hopeless,' I thought; 'we must give the poor fellow up.' When I had come to this melancholy resolve, I issued the orders for wearing ship in a somewhat louder voice than usual, as under the circ.u.mstances was natural, to stifle my own feelings. Just then I thought I heard a human voice borne down upon the gale. I listened; it was, I feared, but the effect of imagination; yet I waited a moment. Again the voice struck my ear, and this time several of the ship's company heard it. 'There he is, sir! There he is away to windward!' exclaimed several voices; and then in return they uttered a loud hearty cheer, to keep up the spirits of the poor fellow. Now came the most trying moment; I must decide whether I would allow a boat to be lowered. 'If I refuse,' I felt, 'my crew will say that I am careless of their lives. It is not their nature to calculate the risk they themselves must run.' At once Mr Christopher, one of my lieutenants, n.o.bly volunteered to make the attempt, and numbers of the crew came forward anxious to accompany him. At last, anxiety to save a drowning man prevailed over prudence, and I sanctioned the attempt.

"The boat, with Mr Christopher and a picked crew, was lowered, not without great difficulty, and, sad to say, with the loss of one of the brave fellows. He was the bowman; and, as he stood up with his boat-hook in his hand to shove off, the boat give a terrific pitch and sent him over the bow. He must have struck his head against the side of the ship, for he went down instantly, and was no more seen. Thus, in the endeavour to save the life of one man, another was already sent to his long account. With sad forebodings for the fate of the rest of the gallant fellows, I saw the boat leave the ship's side. Away she pulled into the darkness, where she was no longer visible; and a heavy pull I knew she must have of it in that terrible sea, even if she escaped destruction. It was one of the most trying times of my life. We waited in suspense for the return of the boat; the minutes, seeming like hours, pa.s.sed slowly by, and she did not appear. I began at length to dread that my fears would be realised, and that we should not again see her, when, after half an hour had elapsed since she had left the ship's side on her mission of mercy, a cheer from her gallant crew announced her approach with the success of their bold enterprise. My anxiety was not, however, entirely relieved till the falls were hooked on, and she and all her crew were hoisted on board, with the rescued man Miles. To my surprise I found that he was perfectly naked. As he came up the side, also, he required not the slightest a.s.sistance, but dived below at once to dry himself and to get out of the cold. I instantly ordered him to his hammock, and, with the doctor's permission, sent him a stiff gla.s.s of grog. I resolved also to relieve him from duty, believing that his nervous system would have received a shock from which it would take long to recover. After I had put the ship once more on her course, being anxious to learn the particulars of his escape, as soon as I heard that he was safely stowed away between the blankets, I went below to see him.

His voice was as strong as ever; his pulse beat as regularly, and his nerves seemed as strong as usual. After pointing out to him how grateful he should feel to our Almighty Father for his preservation from an early and dreadful death, I begged him to tell me how he had contrived to keep himself so long afloat. He replied to me in the following words:--'Why, sir, you see as soon as I came up again, after I had first struck the water, I looked out for the ship, and, getting sight of her running away from me, I remembered how it happened I was there, and knew there would be no use swimming after her or singing out.

Then, sir, I felt very certain you would not let me drown without an attempt to pick me up, and that there were plenty of fine fellows on board who would be anxious to man a boat to come to my a.s.sistance, if you thought a boat could swim. Then, thinks I to myself, a man can die but once, and if it's my turn to-day, why, there's no help for it. Yet I didn't think all the time that I was likely to lose the number of my mess, do ye see, sir. The next thought that came to me was, if I am to drown, it's as well to drown without clothes as with them; and if I get them off, why, there's a better chance of my keeping afloat till a boat can be lowered to pick me up; so I kicked off my shoes, and then I got off my jacket, and then, waiting till I could get hold of the two legs at once, I drew off my trousers in a moment. My shirt was soon off me, but I took care to roll up the tails, so as not to get them over my face. As I rose on the top of the sea, I caught sight of the ship as you wore her round here, and that gave me courage, for I felt I was not to be deserted; indeed, I had no fear of that. Then I knew that there would be no use swimming; so all I did was to throw myself on my back and float till you came up to me. I thought the time was somewhat long, I own. When the ship got back, I saw her hove to away down to leeward, but I did not like to sing out for fear of tiring myself, and thought you would not hear me; and I fancied also that a boat would at once have been lowered to come and look for me. Well, sir, I waited, thinking the time was very long, and hearing no sound, yet still I could see the ship hove to, and you may be sure I did not take my eyes from off her; when at last I heard your voice give the order to wear ship again. Then thinks I to myself, now or never's the time to sing out. And, raising myself as high as I could out of the water, I sang out at the top of my voice. There was a silence on board, but no answer, and I did begin to feel that there was a chance of being lost after all. "Never give in, though," thinks I; so I sung out again, as loud, you may be sure, as I could sing. This time the answering cheers of my shipmates gave me fresh spirits; but still I knew full well that I wasn't safe on board yet. If I had wanted to swim, there was too much sea on to make any way; so I kept floating on my back as before, just keeping an eye to leeward to see if a boat was coming to pick me up. Well, sir, when the boat did come at last, with Mr Christopher and the rest in her, I felt strong and hearty, and was well able to help myself on board. I now can scarcely fancy I was so long in the water.' I was much struck with the extraordinary coolness of Miles. He afterwards had another escape, which was owing less to his own self-possession, though he took it as coolly as the first. On our pa.s.sage home, the ship was running with a lightish breeze and almost calm sea across the Bay of Biscay, when Miles was sent on the fore-topgallant-yard. By some carelessness he fell completely over the yard, and those aloft expected to see him dashed to pieces on the forecastle. Instead of that, the foresail at that moment swelled out with a sudden breeze, and, striking the bulge of the sail, he was sent forward clear of the bows and hove into the water. A rope was towing overboard. He caught hold of it, and, hauling himself on board, was again aloft within a couple of minutes attending to his duty, which had so suddenly been interrupted. On his arrival in England, Lieutenant Christopher received the honorary silver medal from the Royal Humane Society for his gallant conduct on the occasion of saving Miles'

life."

TWO COURAGEOUS SWIMMERS--1838.

HMS _Seringapatam_, Captain Leith, was lying off the island of Antigua, in August 1838, when, on Sunday, the 26th of that month, eight of her officers, three of whom were youngsters, and all belonging to the midshipmen's berth, with a gentleman, a resident in the island, and two seamen, started away from the ship in a pinnace on a cruise. Their intention was to go down to Falmouth Bay, situated about two miles to leeward of English Harbour, where the ship was, and to beat back. The afternoon was very fine, and everything seemed to promise them a pleasant excursion. Having spent a short time in Falmouth Harbour, they hauled their wind, and made three or four tacks on their way back to the ship. The boat, however, made little or nothing to windward, in consequence of the wind being very light. Forgetful of the sudden squalls which visit those lat.i.tudes, the merry party of young officers seemed to have kept but a bad look-out to windward; for, while standing in on the starboard tack, the boat was taken by a sudden squall. The helm was put down; but the boat not coming up to the wind so as to lift the sails, she was capsized under every st.i.tch of canvas. She, however, went over so gradually, that all hands had time to creep to windward and seat themselves on the gunwale. The sails prevented her from turning bottom up, and at the same time protected them in some measure from the breaking of the sea. What seems very extraordinary is, that not one of the party, officers or seamen, had a knife in his pocket, so that they had no means of cutting away the rigging and righting the boat. As soon as they had settled themselves on the side of the boat, they had time to look about them, and to consider their perilous position. They were fully two miles from the sh.o.r.e, whence it was scarcely possible anyone should have observed the accident, and they were an equal distance or more from the ship; thus the current might carry them far away before anyone could come to their a.s.sistance. A sea might get up and wash them off the wreck; or sharks might attack and devour them, for the boat's gunwale was only six inches awash. Not a sail was in sight; and all felt convinced that if some unforeseen a.s.sistance did not come to their aid, they must perish. Despair was well-nigh taking possession of the bosoms of all the party. Silent and melancholy they sat on the wreck, meditating on their fate. All were young. Life, with all its fancied charms and antic.i.p.ated pleasure, had a few short moments previously been before them; and now, death in all its terrors--slow, lingering, and agonising--stared them in the face. One only of the whole party was a good swimmer, Mr W.R. Smith, and he was a very bold and strong one.

He looked at the sh.o.r.e: two miles was a long distance to swim, with a full consciousness, too, that those deep waters swarm with those terrific monsters of the deep, the seamen's just dread--the hideous, shark. "Well," said Smith at last, looking wistfully at the distant sh.o.r.e, "I feel that I ought to try, as it is the only chance of saving all hands; and I think I could have managed it if I had had but a companion, but it's a long way to go alone through the silent water."

"If that is your only reason, Smith, why, I will try and keep you company," said Palmes, another midshipman, who had hitherto sat silent, not complaining like some of the rest. "I am not much of a swimmer, and I don't feel as if I could ever get to sh.o.r.e. However, it's a good cause, and I'll do my best." Thus it was speedily settled, for there was no time to be lost. The two n.o.ble adventurers, having bid farewell to their shipmates, whom Palmes, at all events, never expected to see again, threw off their jackets and shoes, and struck away together from the wreck. The prayers of those they left behind followed them, for the safety of all depended on their success. Smith swam steadily and strongly, and Palmes made amends for his want of strength and skill by his courage and spirit. Still, before they got half-way to the sh.o.r.e, the courage of one of them was to be sorely tried. As Smith swam along, he felt his legs strike against something, and, looking down into the clear water, he saw, to his horror, two enormous sharks swimming past him. As yet they had not noticed him; and fortunate was it for both of the brave fellows that they had kept on their trousers and socks, for had the monsters seen the white flesh of their naked feet, they would to a certainty have fixed on them as their prey. With admirable presence of mind, Smith kept this dreadful fact to himself, lest the knowledge of it should still further unnerve his companion, who already was almost exhausted by his exertions. At this time they were still full a mile from the sh.o.r.e, which, to their anxious eyes, appeared still farther off. "Smith, my dear fellow," exclaimed Palmes, "I can swim no farther.

Do you push on, and leave me to my fate."

"Not I, my lad," answered Smith. "Cheer up, man; we'll yet do well.

Here, rest on me for a time; but don't cease striking out." Suiting the action to the word, he came alongside and supported his companion; but he did not tell him why he urged him to keep striking out. Again they struck out together, and Palmes seemed somewhat recovered; but once more his strength forsook him, and he fancied himself incapable of proceeding. Still Smith did not lose courage; but he saw the necessity of keeping their limbs moving, lest the dreadful sharks should be tempted to lay hold of them. Palmes had fully as much moral courage as his companion, but he was his inferior in physical strength; yet, feeling that not only his own life and that of Smith, but that of their nine fellow-creatures remaining on the wreck, depended on their reaching the sh.o.r.e, nerved him to further exertions.

Those only who have swam for their lives, when the arms have begun to ache, the knees refuse to bend, and the breath grows short, can tell the feelings of the two gallant young men, but more especially those of the brave Palmes. Spurred on by Smith, each time that he grew faint and weary, he nerved himself for fresh exertions. At last, as they strained their eyes ahead, the sh.o.r.e seemed to come nearer and nearer. They could distinguish the sandy beach and the green herbage beyond. On a sudden, before even he expected it, Smith felt his foot touch the sh.o.r.e.

With a joyful exclamation of thankfulness, he grasped Palmes by the hand, and aided him to wade on to the dry land. No sooner had they emerged from the water, than, overcome with fatigue, poor Palmes sank down on the beach, where he lay for some time unable to move. We fain would believe--nay, we are certain--that they both offered up in their hearts a silent thanksgiving to the Great Being who had thus mercifully preserved them from the perils of the deep. But the gallant Smith, while rejoicing in his own preservation and that of his friend, did not forget the shipmates he had left floating on the wreck. As soon as he had recovered sufficient strength to move, he hurried off to the nearest habitation, to give information of the accident, and to procure a boat to go to their a.s.sistance. Already much time had been lost. It was half-past four when the accident occurred, and they had been two hours in reaching the sh.o.r.e, so that darkness was now rapidly approaching, which, of course, would increase the difficulty of finding the wreck.

The instant Palmes was able to move, he also got up and went in search of a boat. He procured one, with a crew to man it, while Smith took charge of another; and they immediately started in search of their shipmates. Meantime information of the sad accident had been conveyed on board the _Seringapatam_. The kind heart of the captain was much grieved when he heard of it, for he could not but fear that the remainder of the party had perished. From him, downwards to the smallest boy in the ship, everybody was most painfully anxious about them. He instantly despatched boats in all directions to search for the missing party. All sorts of reports were flying about on board; and as sharks were known to abound, it was feared by the seamen that they might have destroyed their young shipmates. The night also became very bad: the wind rose, and threatened to increase; the sea got up with it, thick clouds collected, and the white-topped waves added to the gloominess of the night, while the rain came down in torrents, and the lightning burst forth in sharp and vivid flashes, increasing the dangers to be apprehended. The boats of the _Seringapatam_ took different directions, each officer commanding shaping the course he thought most likely to bring him up to the wreck. Some of the searching boats went in a wrong direction altogether, being misled by a pilot as to the direction the current took. Hour after hour pa.s.sed by, and no sign of the wreck was perceived; and both those on board, and many of those in the boats, began to despair of success. As they looked out through the darkness, they fancied they could hear the voices of their shipmates at a distance, imploring aid, or that they saw their figures on the bottom of the boat amid the surrounding gloom. We shall, however, follow the _Seringapatam's_ barge, commanded by her gunner. He knew the set of the current; and, as soon as he shoved off from the ship's side, he ran directly down to leeward along the coast, at the distance he understood the boat had been capsized, he being thus better able to calculate the direction in which she would have drifted. His purpose was then to beat back again, thus entirely covering the ground where the wreck must be.

On his way down he fell in with the sh.o.r.e-boat, commanded by Mr Smith, who, at once approving of his plan, joined him in the search. By their calculations, the boat would have drifted some five or six miles to leeward, and would be drawn rather off sh.o.r.e. They were right; and about the very place where they expected, she was discerned still floating as Smith had left her. With anxious hearts they pulled up to her. Five only of the nine were seen still clinging to her. The other four had too probably given themselves up to despair. The crew of the barge cheered, and were answered with a faint hail from those they had come to save, almost sinking from exhaustion. "Where are the rest?"

exclaimed Smith, as he saw their diminished numbers. "Only a short distance insh.o.r.e of us," was the answer. "They have not left the wreck five minutes."

"Alas! but in those five minutes the poor fellows may have sunk fathoms down, or been grasped by the jaws of the hungry sharks," thought Smith, as he instantly pulled away in the direction indicated.

His four shipmates were found not far apart, each of them lashed to an oar, and striking out as well as they could for the sh.o.r.e; but, strange to say, only one of them could swim at all.

It was then past nine o'clock, making nearly five hours that the poor fellows had held on to the boat, with all the horrors of death staring them in the face; for of course they were not aware that Smith and Palmes had reached the sh.o.r.e, and indeed had begun to fear that they were already numbered with the dead. Their pleasure, and--we believe, their grat.i.tude--was increased when they discovered that both had escaped, and had been the means under Providence of preserving their lives.

Their sufferings had been very great. When the storm came on, they expected every moment to be washed from the wreck; and, to add to their horrors, a shark had been for most of the time lying between the masts of the pinnace, his fiery eyes glaring up at them, and watching them, as about soon to become his prey. Had it not, indeed, been for Smith's coolness and skill as a swimmer, and for the generous daring of Palmes, in all human probability every soul must have perished. The circ.u.mstances we have narrated having been represented to the Royal Humane Society, the silver medallion of the Society, with a complimentary letter, was sent out, and presented on the quarter-deck of the _Seringapatam_, by Captain Leith, to each of the two young officers, in the presence of the whole ship's company,--a suitable and gratifying reward for their gallantry, in addition to that their own consciences could not fail to afford.

Some years after the events I have just described, Mr W.R. Smith, having reached the rank of lieutenant, belonged to HMS _Endymion_. On the 4th of February 1847, she was at anchor off Sacraficios Island, near Vera Cruz. The night of the 4th was excessively dark, and a strong current was running past the ship, when Mr West, mate, slipped his foot from the gangway, and fell into the sea, striking his head against the ship's side. On the cry of "A man overboard!" which was instantly raised, Lieutenant W.R. Smith and others rushed on deck; but, owing to the excessive darkness and the strong current, no object could at first be seen floating. At length something white was perceived at a distance, when Lieutenant Smith immediately plunged into the water, and struck rapidly out towards it. On reaching the object, he found it to be Mr West, who was lying quite motionless, though, from his head sinking under water, he would speedily have been deprived of life.

Lieutenant Smith at once raised his head above water, and kept him floating until by repeatedly calling he attracted a boat to his a.s.sistance, when he and his companion were carried on board. The crew were thickly cl.u.s.tering on the rigging to see them return, and from among them another man missed his footing and fell overboard from the main-chains. Mr Smith, who saw the accident, not knowing whether the man could swim, instantly plunged in again to his a.s.sistance, but found, on reaching him, that he was perfectly able to keep himself afloat till the boat could arrive to pick him up.

RESCUE OF A BOAT'S CREW--JANUARY 1840.

HMS _Wolverine_ formed one of the African squadron, and was commanded by the brave and kind Commander Tucker. She had been cruising off the coast, when, on the 15th of January 1840, she anch.o.r.ed off the river Bra.s.s, or Saint John, one of the mouths of the far-famed and mysterious Niger. Captain Tucker had made himself thoroughly acquainted with the coast, as well as with the modes of proceeding of the slave-dealers and of the slavers, and he was thus enabled to capture a very large number of vessels, though, with single-minded purpose, as his object was to stop the slave trade, he endeavoured to take them before they got their slaves on board. Soon after the brig had brought up, about four miles from the sh.o.r.e, Captain Tucker ordered the boats to be hoisted out, and to be fitted for service during an absence of three days. While this work was going forward, a canoe was observed paddling off from the sh.o.r.e towards the ship. On her coming alongside, she was found to contain two natives of great consequence, it seemed, judging from their costume,-- that is to say, if scarlet dresses, or rather wrappers round the loins, and ornamented caps, might be admitted as tests of rank. They came up the side without hesitation, and, after some cross-questioning, they informed Captain Tucker that they had seen a fine schooner, under American colours, up the river Nun, and that from her appearance and movements there could be no doubt that she was a slaver. The promise of a reward induced them, with negro eagerness, to undertake all Captain Tucker proposed,--to act as spies, and to bring further information about the vessel, and then to perform the part of pilots in conducting her, when captured, down the river. This information, which it was hoped was correct, hurried the departure of the boats. Lieutenant Dumaresq took charge of the pinnace, as commanding officer of the expedition; Mr Arthur B. Kingston, then a mate, had the cutter; and Mr Thorburn, another mate of the _Wolverine_, went in the gig. Water, provisions, and arms having been placed in the boats, and all being ready, they shoved off from the ship at half-past ten in the morning.

Lieutenant Dumaresq had one of the black pilots in his boat, and Mr Kingston had the other with him. Sometimes sailing when there was a breeze, and at others, when it fell light, the crews, eager for work of some sort, pulling away with a will, they soon reached the mouth of the river Bra.s.s. The river is here pretty broad; its banks, as far as the eye can reach, covered with tall mangroves, their dark foliage imparting a sombre and almost funereal aspect to the scenery. After the boats had pulled about ten miles up the Bra.s.s, they reached a sort of natural ca.n.a.l which connects the Bra.s.s with the Nun. On pa.s.sing through this, they entered the Nun, when they hove to for dinner,--a meal not at all unwelcome after their long pull. The crews being refreshed, they again bent to their oars, and proceeded about 30 miles up the Nun. Darkness now rapidly came on, and they were no longer able to see ahead, nor had they been able to discover anything of their looked-for prize. On questioning their black volunteer pilots, the worthy gentlemen seemed very uncertain, not only whether the slaver had sailed, but where she had been and where they then were. One declared that they had come much higher up than where she was last seen, and that she had probably been sheltered from their observation in one of the numerous creeks which run through the banks of the river. In this dilemma a council of war was held, and at first it was proposed to retrace their steps, till the elder of the black pilots offered to take a small canoe they had with them higher up the river, to ascertain whether or not the slaver was there. This proposal being agreed to by Lieutenant Dumaresq, the two negroes pulled away, and were soon lost in the darkness, not without some slight misgivings as to whether or not they would ever return.

However, to pa.s.s the time during the absence of the negroes, they piped to supper. A small portion only of the ship's biscuit and salt pork had been discussed, and a gla.s.s of grog had just been served out all round, when the canoe was seen gliding at full speed out of the darkness, the dip of her paddles just breaking the stillness of the night. "Well, my men, any news of the slaver?" asked the lieutenant in an eager whisper, for the return of the canoe gave him hopes that a prize was at hand.

"Ship live there," answered the elder black, in the clear and distinct tones in which his race can speak, but still only in a whisper. No sooner was this announcement made than the oars were got out simultaneously, and, at a word from Lieutenant Dumaresq, the boats went ahead like magic. Not a word except the necessary ones of command was uttered. Everyone knew the importance of silence. The three boats, urged on by their eager crews, advanced abreast at full speed. Ten minutes, or little more, were sufficient to show the dark outline of a schooner, her masts and spars relieved against the starry sky. Silent as the grave, the boats pulled on, their oars so carefully dipped, that scarcely a splash was heard. Those on board the schooner slept, or seemed to sleep, for not a sound was heard from her decks. A slaver's crew, however, conscious of the risks they are running in their nefarious traffic, are seldom off their guard, and the British seamen were fully prepared for a reception with a shower of grape and musketry.

Yet, without a thought of the consequences, on getting close to her, on they dashed with a cheer, and in another instant were alongside and scrambling up her sides. So unexpected had been their attack, that not an attempt at resistance was made; and, to the no small delight of Lieutenant Dumaresq and his followers, they found themselves in possession of a fine little schooner, which proved to be the _Lark_, with a crew of no less than thirty Spaniards. They were first all properly secured and sent down below, with orders to behave themselves, and a hint that if they did not, it would be the worse for them.

A slaver's crew have a right, it is understood, to try and retake their vessel without being treated as pirates and hung in case they do not succeed, or are afterwards captured; so it becomes necessary to keep a very sharp look-out after them. Her papers were at the same time secured, and, on her circ.u.mstances being investigated, not a doubt remained as to her character.

Bending sails, and getting all ready for an early start, occupied some time, when, the watch being set, with strict orders to keep a wakeful eye on the prisoners, the rest of the party lay down on the sails, and were soon sound asleep.

At early dawn all hands were roused up, and the schooner was very soon got under weigh. There was little or no wind to fill her sails, so the boats' crews had to tow her down the river, hoping to find a breeze, as they got near its mouth, to take her out. Nine miles of their distance had been thus accomplished, when, at about seven o'clock, as she was pa.s.sing through a long reach of the river Nun, a sail hove in sight, which was soon discovered to be a rakish two-topsail schooner. She stood boldly on up the river towards the barrac.o.o.ns, either not observing the little _Lark_, or, at all events, not suspecting into whose hands she had fallen. Lieutenant Dumaresq on this instantly ordered the man-of-war boats to be hauled up alongside of the schooner on the opposite side to that on which the stranger was approaching, so that she should not observe them, and, by taking fright, endeavour to make her escape. At the same time, the pinnace and gig were manned and held in readiness (the crews being well armed) to board the schooner, Mr Kingston receiving orders to remain in charge of the _Lark_ with the cutter's crew. On slowly came the stranger, the light wind only just enabling her to stem the current. She seemed totally unconscious of the neighbourhood of her enemies. On a sudden something seemed to awaken her suspicions; and Lieutenant Dumaresq, judging that the best time had arrived for taking possession, shoved off and pulled towards her as fast as the crews could lay their backs to the oars. Mr Kingston meantime was left in command of the _Lark_, with the cutter's crew; Mr Thorburn accompanied their leader. Away went the boats. The stranger now for the first time was aware of her danger, or rather certainty of capture, unless she could blow the approaching boats out of the water; but she could have had but slight hopes of doing so with any chance of ultimate success, as she saw that the _Lark_ was in the hands of her enemies, and she could not tell how many people might be remaining on board to avenge the destruction of their comrades. Still, slavers, when they have seen a chance of success, have often fought desperately; and the cutter's crew on board the _Lark_ watched with deep interest the approach of the two boats to the big schooner, not knowing what moment she might open her fire on them; but the slaver's crew had not even the brute-like courage to induce them to fight in defence of their accursed calling, and, without firing a shot, they allowed the two boats to come alongside. Once having a firm hold of the slaver's chains with their boat-hooks, the British seamen very quickly scrambled on board. The crew, who were chiefly Spaniards, made no opposition, nor did a number of other people, who, dressed in sh.o.r.e-going clothes, announced themselves as pa.s.sengers. There was certainly a wonderfully sea-going look about them, though they all seemed very anxious to leave the vessel as fast as possible. Now, as the consequences of detaining people against their will are often very disagreeable, Lieutenant Dumaresq, whatever might have been his suspicions, thought it best to allow the gentlemen to take their departure. It was afterwards discovered that the fellows, who were all of them belonging to the slaver's crew, took on sh.o.r.e a very considerable number of doubloons, which form in general the most valuable portion of a prize, unless she has her cargo of slaves on board; the slave-vessel herself and her stores rarely sell for much.

What was called head-money has of late years been reduced to one-fourth of what it was formerly. The new prize proved to be the _Asp_, a fit name for a slaver, though she was now effectually deprived of her sting.

As soon as she was thoroughly overhauled, and all her forthcoming papers secured, the Spanish crew were sent below, and the man-of-war's boats began towing the two schooners down the river. It was laborious work, after the incessant labour for so many hours the men had gone through; but a prize tows easily, and the gallant fellows cheerfully bent to their oars. Thus the two vessels proceeded on rapidly between the mangrove-covered banks of the river. By five p.m. the entrance of the Nun appeared in sight, and preparations were instantly made for crossing the bar,--I must rather say bars, for there are three, one within the other, at some distance apart; and over them, when the current sets out and the wind blows in, the sea breaks with great violence, so that, under those circ.u.mstances, the crossing them, even in a decked vessel, is a work of very considerable danger. On this occasion appearances were far from favourable: the wind was foul, and blowing very strong; a heavy sea was breaking over the bars, its incessant roar seeming like a warning not to venture into its power; while evening was rapidly closing in, the coming darkness threatening to increase the difficulties to be encountered. Still Mr Dumaresq was unwilling to expose his followers to the baneful atmospheric influences of another night spent within the mouth of the river, or to the chances of attack from any of the slavers' friends who might be in the neighbourhood, and who would always be ready to win back a prize at any sacrifice of the lives of the captors; though that was a contingency not likely to happen. He was rather influenced, probably, by his anxiety to secure his prizes, and to report his proceedings to his superior officer. The schooners had anch.o.r.ed just inside the inner bar, and all the necessary preparations having been made, and the tide serving, they again got under weigh. Mr Dumaresq led in the _Asp_, directing Mr Kingston to follow in his wake. This Mr Kingston did, approaching the bar on the starboard tack, the _Lark_ having the cutter towing astern, and her own boat, which could not be hoisted up on account of the tackles being unrove, and a net full of vegetables being worked athwart the davits. Neither could her boat be got on board, on account of the crowded state of the decks. As the _Lark_ drew close to the bar, the appearance of things in no degree mended. Hands were placed in the chains, who kept the lead constantly going; and, as the water shoaled, the schooners had to tack repeatedly, wearing sometimes, as the heavy swell threatened otherwise to prevent their coming round. From the first, Mr Kingston had but little confidence in the black volunteer pilot who had accompanied him on board the _Lark_; and now, though he urged him by threats to perform the duty he had undertaken, and tried to stimulate him to exertion by reminding him of his promised reward, he only answered, "This is no my bar!" and finally threw himself down on the deck under the bulwarks, refusing to take any further charge of the vessel. It must be remembered that the boats had entered the Niger by the _Bra.s.s_ river, the bar of which was _his bar_, and that he had bargained to act as pilot through its mouth, so that there was ample excuse for the poor wretch; this, however, in no degree lessened the danger of the position in which the little _Lark_ was placed.

It was now perfectly dark and very squally, while nothing was visible to mark the course the vessel should pursue but the phosph.o.r.escent light of the breakers stretching across the bar from sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e; while to all appearance there seemed to be reef only beyond reef, destruction on which it was scarcely possible the schooner could escape. Though the _Lark_ was pressed to the utmost, the _Asp_ soon distanced her; and though Lieutenant Dumaresq showed lights, they were of little or no use in guiding her course. Squall after squall struck the little schooner; and, as she heeled over, it sometimes appeared that she would never again rise, or be able to beat out through the tremendous surf which came rolling in. At length Mr Kingston judged it wise to shorten sail, which he forthwith did, having set only his mainsail, jib, and fore-and-aft foresail, a fore-trysail. He also sent a good hand on the fore-yard to look out for any break which might happily appear in the white wall of surf which came rolling in over the surrounding shoals.

The little _Lark_ had now reached the innermost of the three bars, and was pitching into the seas, which came foaming up and rolling over her decks. She had the cutter towing after her, and astern of that was the schooner's boat. That very soon began to fill, and finally swamped, when it became necessary to cut her adrift. This was done, and she quickly disappeared. At about a quarter to eight a blue light was observed close to windward; and as the _Lark_ was wearing off the heaviest part of the bar, some voices were heard hailing her. It was soon discovered that they proceeded from the pinnace, which had apparently several hands in her. Again they hailed, imploring to be picked up, stating, as far as could be understood, that they had broken adrift from astern of the _Asp_, with the gig, which was lost; and from the words which reached the _Lark_, Mr Kingston was very much afraid that several lives were already sacrificed, while it seemed too probable that those in the pinnace would share the same fate, unless he could manage to get near them to take them on board. There was not a moment to spare. The pinnace, it must be understood, was inside the _Lark_, higher up the river, the _Lark_ having pa.s.sed her after she had broken adrift from the _Asp_. In another minute she would have drifted among the breakers, when the destruction of all on board would be sealed. To pick her up under weigh was almost impossible; and, with the tide and heavy sea, the schooner could not be steered with any degree of certainty even near her; and could even this be done, the probabilities were that she would be swamped before the men could be got out of her.

The young officer therefore saw that but one course only was open for him to pursue with any chance of success, and that involved immense risk both to the vessel and his people. To think is to act with a British seaman in a case of emergency. He saw that to intercept the boat he must anchor; and, having both anchors clear, and a hand by the weather one all along, he ordered it to be let go, though he had but two fathoms at the time under the vessel's keel, while the surf from the second bar was curling up round the vessel's sides, threatening to make a clear sweep of her decks. His order to let go was perhaps not understood, or the Spanish crew, some thirty in number, seeing what was about to be done, and expecting instant destruction in consequence, endeavoured to impede it; at all events, he had to rush forward and cut the stoppers with an axe, which he luckily had at hand.

The schooner brought up all standing, the sea at the same instant making a terrific breach over her; but the helmsman was a good hand, and sheered her over to the exact spot the pinnace must pa.s.s. The whole was the work of a moment. The boat drifted near, a rope was hove into her, and providentially caught by the nearly exhausted crew. She was hauled alongside, her people being got out, while some fresh hands went down into her and secured her with her own cable and the end of the schooner's main-sheet. At the same time the schooner's fore-sheet was pa.s.sed into the cutter as a preventer. Four men were saved from the pinnace. They stated that she and the gig had been towing astern of the _Asp_, with two hands in each, when, on crossing the inner bar, they both broke adrift together. Instead, however, of the two men in the pinnace getting into the gig, which they might have managed, those in the smaller got into the larger boat, fancying they would be safer, when they found themselves totally unable to pull her against the tide, or to guide her to sh.o.r.e. The _Lark_ very soon after this began to drive, when the other anchor was dropped under foot, while they veered away on the larboard cable. She now held, but the breakers made a clean breach over her decks, washing adrift the numerous casks, loose spars, fowl-coops, and a variety of other things; and in addition, what was worse than all, a large scuttle-b.u.t.t of palm-oil. Meantime, to increase the confusion and danger, the cutter and pinnace were striking the stern and quarters of the vessel with great force, often coming as far forward as the main-chains on both sides. The Spaniards had from the first been very unruly, and they now gave symptoms of an intention of breaking into open mutiny. In addition, therefore, to the variety of other duties the British seamen were called on to perform, it became necessary for them to keep their arms in readiness, to repel any sudden attack the fellows might venture to make on them for the purpose of regaining the schooner.

The palm-oil, also, which is like very thick red mud, had coated the whole deck from before the foremast nearly as far aft as the mainmast, making it more slippery even than ice, so that no one could either stand or walk on it. The water, also, had no effect on its greasy composition, and as there were no ashes on board to strew over it, one part of the deck became almost separated from the other. The Spaniards were evidently watching their opportunity, and kept eyeing the British seamen with no friendly intentions. They were four to one of them, and though deprived of their muskets and cutla.s.ses, they had still the long knives in their belts, without which no Spaniard ever thinks his costume complete. The wretches kept up such a hubbub, and did so much to impede the work of the vessel, that some of them very nearly got shot, as a hint to the rest of what they might expect if they proceeded to extremities. The gallant young officer himself had little fear of what they might venture to do, as, considering the dilemma the vessel was placed in, surrounded by shoals, with heavy breakers close at hand, and in thick darkness, they could scarcely hope to get out to sea and escape that way, or, if they returned up the river, to avoid recapture should they regain possession of the vessel. In obedience, however, to his written instructions, he kept some of his people under arms to watch the fellows. For full half an hour the little schooner lay in this way, it being expected every instant that her anchors would part, when a roller, more severe even than the others, threw the cutter on board on the larboard quarter, breaking the bunk adrift and capsizing it. As the vessel rose again, the boat fell aft and immediately filled, when she was of necessity cut adrift to prevent her doing more damage; and as soon as this was done she sank. Shortly after this the squalls began to become less frequent, and the breakers moderated gradually; an opening, also, was seen in the line of sparkling foam from the fore-yard; so Mr Kingston resolved to make sail and to get out of the river. He contrived to weigh the starboard or lee anchor, after very many fruitless attempts to do so on account of the heavy surges; but as it was found impossible to purchase the weather one, it was slipped, and the schooner wore round under her jib in a quarter less two fathoms. A sharp-sighted seaman stood on the fore-yard, from whence he conned the vessel,--the lead kept going as before. The mainsail was then set, and the schooner stood out towards the opening which appeared in the surf.

She obeyed her helm readily, the rocks and shoals were avoided, and at length the outer bar was safely pa.s.sed. At about ten p.m. she came up with the _Asp_, anch.o.r.ed a short distance outside. Lieutenant Dumaresq stood with speaking-trumpet in hand, and hailed the _Lark_. "I'm glad you've got out safe; but I fear four of my poor fellows are lost, and our two boats."

"They're safe on board, and I have your boat in tow," was the answer. A loud congratulatory cheer from the British seamen on board the _Asp_ signified their satisfaction at the success of Mr Kingston's gallant exploit. He then anch.o.r.ed, and, going on board the _Asp_, was further thanked and congratulated by his superior officer; who had not only given up all hopes of the people in the pinnace and gig having escaped, but of the _Lark_ herself, as his own vessel had had a most perilous pa.s.sage across the bars. She had struck three times, in one of which shocks the boats had broken adrift. The two schooners again weighed and ran down to the _Wolverine_, lying off the Bra.s.s, ten miles distant. On their arrival, Mr Kingston had the satisfaction of receiving the warmest approval of his excellent commander for the gallantry and judgment he had displayed. The vessels were afterwards sent to Sierra Leone, where they were condemned and cut up.

Mr Kingston having taken the _Lark_ schooner to Sierra Leone, where she was condemned, was appointed to HMS _Saracen_, which soon afterwards arrived there. From that place the _Saracen_ sailed for the river Gambia, soon after the 2nd of March.

On the evening of the 13th of the same month, while on her pa.s.sage there, when it was blowing fresh, with a heavy cross sea, a lad aged nineteen, named John Plunket, fell overboard from the main-topgallant-yard. In falling he struck against the topsail-yard and the sweeps stowed on the quarter, and was bleeding at the mouth and almost senseless when he reached the water. The lad could not swim, and his death seemed inevitable; when Mr Kingston, who was on the quarter-deck, without a moment's hesitation sprang overboard, exclaiming to his commander as he ran aft, "Send a boat as quick as you can, sir-- I'll save him." He struck out bravely towards the poor lad, but before he could reach him he sank. A cry of horror arose from all on board, for they thought the lad was lost, though every exertion was made to get a boat in the water to pick up Mr Kingston. Plunket, however, again rose, and Mr Kingston grasping hold of him, supported him above water, though with much difficulty, as the lad, who bled profusely from the mouth and nostrils, convulsively clung round him, and almost dragged him down to the bottom. Fortunately, he released himself from the clutch of the now senseless youth, and continued to support him by swimming and treading water. For fear of exhaustion, he afterwards threw himself on his back, and, placing the head of his almost inanimate shipmate on his chest, he kept him up for a quarter of an hour, till a boat reached them and took them on board.

On another occasion, while on the coast of Africa, in a spot where sharks were known to abound, Mr Kingston leaped overboard after another lad who had fallen into the water. Fortunately the life-buoy was let go at the same time, and, wisely catching hold of it, he towed it up to the sinking youth, and providentially preserved his life.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

GALLANT DEEDS.

HUMANITY OF LIEUTENANT BREEN, RN--MEDITERRANEAN, 1850.

That the seamen of the British navy are as humane as they are brave we have numberless examples to prove. The following is one of numerous instances in which they have risked and often sacrificed their lives for the good of others, and should on no account be pa.s.sed over.

As one of the boats of HMS _Ganges_, forming part of the British fleet in the Piraeus, with Lieutentant Breen, Mr Chatfield, midshipman, and 16 men, was returning from the sh.o.r.e, laden with water, she was swamped and turned over just half-way between the _Queen_ and the east point of the island of Lypso.

Mr Breen, Mr Chatfield, and most of the men, immediately struck out for the island, and reached it. The gale increased, and the cold became so intense that their clothes were frozen stiff upon them. In the morning they could see the fleet, but were unable to draw attention to themselves by the signals they were making. One of the men suffered so much from the cold that Lieutenant Breen generously stripped off his coat and put it on him. As the day closed, most of the men retired into a cave; but Mr Breen separated himself from the others, and was no more seen. On board the _Ganges_ it was thought that they had not put off from sh.o.r.e; but next night it was known that they had set out, and a boat was sent to search. As she was pa.s.sing by Lypso at dawn on the third day, the wrecked boat was accidentally descried on the beach. Mr Chatfield and half a dozen men were found in the cave in a torpid state; Mr Breen was found dead, crouched under a bush, and ten seamen were missing. There is little doubt that poor Mr Breen lost his life from his generous act in favour of the suffering seamen. The survivors found in the cave all recovered.

GALLANTRY EXHIBITED IN PRESERVING LIFE--CAPTAIN WASEY, RN--1860.

On the 22nd of January 1860, the schooner _Ann Mitch.e.l.l_ went ash.o.r.e near Fleetwood. A new lifeboat, not long before placed there by the National Lifeboat Inst.i.tution, was immediately launched, when Captain Wasey, Inspecting Commander of the Coast Guard, to encourage the men, went off in her. A strong tide was running in, and a hard gale blowing from the west-north-west. It was night. Stronger and stronger blew the gale, the sea breaking terrifically on the sh.o.r.e and over the hapless vessel. A small steamer was got ready, and took the lifeboat in tow.

Even thus but slow way was made in the teeth of the gale, the tide, and the raging sea. Still the steamer persevered. Slowly she gained ground, and at length, having got to windward of the wreck, the tow-rope was cast off, and the boat proceeded alone on her work of mercy. She got within a few yards of the wreck, when a tremendous sea rushing in, struck her and filled her, breaking some of her oars. At that moment it seemed as if the lifeboat herself was doomed to destruction. She was but small, pulling only six oars, and scarcely fitted for the arduous work in which she was engaged. Captain Wasey now anch.o.r.ed, and attempted to veer her down to the wreck, but the strong tide running defeated his intention. The anchor being then weighed, another attempt was made to board the vessel to leeward; but a heavy sea striking her, she was thrown over altogether, her masts falling within a few feet of the lifeboat, whose brave crew thus narrowly escaped destruction.

Again, therefore, Captain Wasey determined to anchor to windward, and once more to veer down. This time success attended the efforts of the lifeboat's crew, lines being thrown on board of the wreck and secured.

One of the people from the schooner then threw himself into the sea, and was hauled into the boat; but unhappily the others appeared to be either fearful or unable to follow his example; and, from the pitchy darkness and the noise of the sea and wind, it was impossible to communicate intelligibly with them. Captain Wasey learned from the man saved, that three persons remained; one--the master--had his back hurt, and another--a boy--his leg broken. While endeavouring to carry out their humane purpose, a heavy sea broke over both vessel and boat, carrying away the lines, and sweeping the boat some 300 yards to leeward. Many seamen might have despaired of regaining the wreck, but the men of the lifeboat, encouraged by their gallant leader, pulled up once more, in the hopes of saving the poor fellows on the wreck. Great was their disappointment, however, on again getting alongside, to discover that the last heavy sea had washed them all off. Captain Wasey and his gallant followers having done all that men could do, had at length to return to the sh.o.r.e with one only out of the four people who had formed the crew of the _Ann Mitch.e.l.l_. They had been thus occupied for nearly nine hours of a dark winter's night, with untiring exertion and exposure. The lifeboat had been launched at six p.m. on the 22nd, and did not return to the sh.o.r.e till forty minutes past two a.m. on the 23rd.