The Sun.
London, England, 1868-08-06 00:00:00

most, if not all of you, my readers, were com:'
fottable in your beds—the wakeful ones of you
perhaps listening wistfully to the storm, and per-
haps having your hearts moved w ith pity and to
prayer for the poor fellows at sea—these brave
men, from choice, not for hope of money reward,
but for the far dearer hope of saving life—waited
on and on, by those gloomy sands, a prey. to all the
nand deadly
seas, and
waves
fierce
e
Tssimofethaeftegraltei,mtehethreagminagd
break over the boat, burying her in clouds of spray
and foam, or corning in heavier volume still ; put
the men for a moment or two completely
under water; the sufferings of the crew be-
come very severe, they encourage each other,
and still let the boat lay to. Willing as every mr.n
is to endure to the utmost, they soon feel that it is
getting beyond their strength, they are frozen
through and through, and rapidly getting numbed
and exhausted with the continual wash of heavy
seas, ani at last they are compelled to make a sig.
nal for the steamer, and are towed back to RAms-
gate, arriving between four and five in the morning.
The name of the vessel that was lost was never
known, the greedy sands soon swallowed every
vestige of the ship ; her name may perhaps be
found among the missing ships at Lloyd's; hope
doubtless long lingered, may still linger in many
mournful homes, still the story be told to the chil-
dren, how their father or their brother sailed from
a foreign port for home on such a day, and has
not since been heard of, but no clue ever be found
as to which of the many missing vessels it was that
came to such sudden destruction on the Goodwin
Sands. _ _

SAVED AT LAST.*

Do we not often find, in the winter's evening,
that our warm rooms seem more cosy, and the
flames lap more brightly and closely round the half-
consumed log, as a blast of wind moans in the
chimney, and perhaps the cry of some poor street-
hawker tells its plain tale of toiling misery, as
it goes shivering along the street? Do we not
find our sensations of personal comfort increased,
and our sympathy for the sufferer quickened, as
the wintry gale and slashing rain beat against
our well - shattered windows, and suggest
the hardships we should have to endure if
we were less cared for and protected ? But, if we
may learn the deeper to realise our blessings, and
the more to quicken our sympathies, by contrasting
our respective positions'with those endured by many
of the poor toilers on shore, still more may we do
so as we think over the hardships suffered by the
toilers at sea. I want to gain especial sympathy—
and it is generally so freely given, that I know I
have no hard task before me—not only for the ship-
wrecked, crying aloud in their quick peril and deep
agony for rescue, but also for the poor, brave-
hearted boatmen of our coasts, who never hesitate
to do all, and to dare all, when the prospect before
them is that of saving life.
Let us first think of some of the features in the
calling of those whom we may well call the stormy
petrels of seafaring life; who not only find their
bread upon the waters but on the stormiest waters
of most troubled seas ; who, the darker the night,
the sterner the tempest, the more blinding the
snow-drift, are the more full of expectation that
their services will be needed, and, therefore, the
more determined to urge their way out into the
storm, to be ready to render aid at the first call for
assistance, and perhaps to pluck a harvest of saved
lives off the very edge of the scythe of death.
Yes, my readers, I would carry you in thought
far away from quiet home-scenes and associations ;
from the pleasant nooks and sunny corners of me-
mories which you delight to recal, upon which you
love to let your thoughts half-consciously ponder ;
but I ask you to take the joy of your home-peace,
the gladness of your blessings with you, that you
may be quickened in every chord of sympathy, as
you let me carry your thoughts away into the
dread darkness, which is broken only by spectral
sheens of light shed by flying foam, and to picture
the rolling sea mountains hurling along their ava-
lanches of white spray ; to listen to the dread dis-
cords of a howling tempest ; to hover in fancy mid
a scene of fierce turmoil and strife, where the ele-
ments in their rage seem to have loosened all bonds
of fury, and determined to sweep from their path
every vestige of man and his works; and now let
your eyes centre upon a shattered wreck, to which
are clinging a few storm-beaten sailors, trembling
upon the very verge of a grave. Look where a fit-
ful light gleams in the darkness, now rides high on
the crest of a huge wave, now falls buried in the
trough of the sea, shines out again, is hidden in a
cloud of spray, but gets nearer and nearer to the
shipwrecked. The light gleams from a lifeboat, in
which a small band of men are battling—battling
on in the teeth of the fierce storm, checked by no
terrors, dismayed by no failures, with no other
hope than that of saving life, but in that holy
hope strong in perseverance, and undaunted iu
courage.
In such scenes we see the men actually at their
work in their efforts to save life and property; but
the lifeboat and hovelling work does not merely
consist in doing the work at the moment of its
necessity, but also in the unwearying watch and
readiness for when that time shall come. Many
a Ramsgate boatman leaves his poor but warm
and comfortable home, his humble but loving
home-circle, to pace Ramsgate Pier for hours ;
and this night after night for many winter
months, and for the mere chance of being among
the first to make a rush for the lifeboat when the
signal is given to man her—a chance that may not
come a dozen times in the season, and which, when
it does come, may afford, indeed, a great oppor-
tuuity for daring all and doing all for the saving of
life, but not much in the way of refilling the half-
empty cupboards at home, or rubbing off much of
the growing score at the baker's or with the land-
ord.

As soon as it is daylight on Sunday morning, the
coxswain of the lifeboat and others of the boatmen
feel very anxious ; fearing that, after all, there may
be some poor fellow clinging to a remnant of wreck,
or perhaps a ship on the sands, lost in the darkness
of the night, and unable, in the rush of the sea,
to make any signal of distress : they cannot rest ;
and though the lifeboat has been in only a few
hours, the coxswain of the boat and the mate of the
steamer go to the harbour-master, and ask his
leave to go to sea again and search round the sands.
This permission is readily given. " Go, by all
means." Ten fresh hands join the coxswain and
bowman of the lifeboat, and soon after light on Sun-
day morning they start on their dangerous but hope-
ful mission. They are towed again by the steamer
Aid, and make for the North Sands head light ves-
sel, keeping a lookout for any signal of distress. The
men seeing nothing on this side of the sands, it is
determined to round the light-vessel, and search at
the back or French side of the sands. Soon they
discover in the misty distance what seems to be a
large vessel on the south-east spit of the sands ; they
tow with all speed in her direction, they are going
along the edge of the sand just outside of the broken
water. The waves are beating down on the sands
with tremendous force, the surf flying up in great
sheets of foam, and the roar of the breakers like
loud quivering thunder ; the scene is enough to
make the stoutest heart quail, but, without any
thought of flinching, the men cling to the lifeboat
as the seas break over her, and patiently bear all
the cold, and storm, and wash of water, as they
are towed on in the direction of the wreck. One
said, in answer to questions as to what his feelings
were as he watched the tremendous seas, and knew
that shortly he would b 3 battling in the midst of
them, " Well, Sir, 1 think every man has his inward
feelings; soldiers say they have theirs when they
go into battle, and I am sure we have ours ; a man
can't help knowing the danger, and thinking about
it, and feeling about it, too ; but we are not going
to be made cold-hearted about it, or we shouldn't
he out there; we can't help seeing that we've got
our work cut out for us, and we determine, by
God's help, to do it, and won't flinchhope to
save others, and feel we shall do our best, but we
know that we may lose our own lives; we think
about this sometimes as we are sitting in the boat,
holding on against the wash of the seas, but when
we get to the wreck we forget all about ourselves,
and thick only about saving others."
The seas become heavier and heavier as they get
nearer the vessel, and approach a more exposed part
of the sands; they have to encounter one great
rush of water, which, urged by the hurricane of
wind and strong tide, comes raging along through
the Straits of Dover.
They find the vessel to be, a large barque ; she
has settled down somewhat in the sands, belled
over a good deal, and huge waves are foaming over
her. The men look at the awful rage of the sea,
hear the tremendous roar with which the seas break
upon the sands, and say to each other, "We have,
indeed, our work cut out for us." They can see no
signs of any one being left on board—the crew may
have been swept away, or have vainly attempted to
get to land in their own boat. The flag of distress
is .still flying, and they go in nearer to the sands,
until they are almost abreast of the wreck ; they
can now make out the crew crouching down under
cover of the deck-house, while the wild waves make
a complete breach over the vessel, and threaten
every moment to wash the deck-house and the crew
away.
The steamer now tows the boat up to windward ;
the lifeboat men feel their tura for the battle has
come, and make every preparation—sails are got
ready to hoist, the cable is made all clear for pay-
ing out, the coxswain sees that they are far enough
to windward, the steamer's tow-rope is cast off ;
the boat lifts on a huge wave as the strain
of the rope is taken off her, they hoist her sail,
round she flies in answer to her helm, and she makes
in for the wreck ; they mount on the top of huge
seas, go plunging down into the trough of the
waves ; the spray flies over them, as the gale catches ,
the crests of the towering breakers, and tills the air
with the flying foam; a minute more, and they are
in broken water, the seas rush and recoil and leap
together, fly high, and fall in tangled volumes of
foaming water over the boat ; she is almost unma-
nageable ; tossed in all directions as the seas pour
over her. The men have to cling with all their
strength to the thwarts. They get within about
sixty yards of the wreck, the anchor is thrown
overboard, the cable paid out swiftly ; the sea is
rushing with tremendous force over the ship,
the boat sheers in under her lee quarter ;
the men cheer to the poor half-dead sailors,
whom they see on board. All is hope :
" A minute or two more," they think,
" and we shall have saved them." A shout,
" llold on, men, for your lives hold on l" a glance
up, a huge towering wave like a wall of water
comes swiftly on, its crest curls, breaks, fall—the
men and boat are carried down by the tremendous
weight of water. Some of the men seem almost
crushed by the pressure and blow of the falling
wave—they do not know whether the boat is upset
or not, they cling convulsively to her ; she floats
and frees herself. The men find that the wave
that thus buried them has taken the boat in its
irresistible flood, and dragging the anchor with it,
has carried it more than one hundred yards away
from the ship.
The men shake themselves free from the water,
and look at the vessel; they cheer to the crew, and
determine, please God, they will have them safe
yet. They hoist sail, and try to sheer the boat to
the ship. In vain ; sea after sea breaks over them ;
the boat is thrown by the broken seas in all direc-
tions, sometimes the coxswain feels as if he would
be thrown bodily forward on the men, as the
waves lift her almost end on end. Again and
again are they buried beneath the water ; but
after each time the boat floats buoyantly, and
the men bear up bravely, and all are once more
ready for a fresh struggle. They labour on, but
in vain ; they get the oars out, the waves
take them and send them leaping from the row-
locks, and out of the men's hands; they muss
give it up for this time'. All their thoughts are for
the poor shipwrecked crew, and the bitter, bitter
disappointment they must feel. Again they cheer
to them, and shout to them " to keep their hearts
up, they will soon be at them again ;" and then
make the best of their way to the steamer. They
have failed in their first attempt. The ste tmer
again tows them into position, and they make boldly
in to the wreck for the second time ; they steer as
near to the stern as possible, avoiding the danger
of being washed over it on to the deck of the ves-
sel, and thus crashed to pieces ; they get nearer

The early days of last year were bleak and cold ;
strong northerly and easterly winds swept over land
and sea ; people on shore spoke of t':►e weather as
being seasonable, but shuddered over the word.
At Ramsgate, on the sth of January, it was a
fresh breeze from the east-south-east, and, as usual,
the anxious boatmen were keeping a good louk-out.
About half-past eight in the morning the boomings
of the signal guns were heard, both from the Good-
win and Gull lightships.
The boatmen, who had been watching all night
in momentary expectation of such a signal, made
the usual rush for the lifeboat.t The steamer, the
Aid, was speedily ready, and taking the boat in
tow, away they went steering for the North Sands
head light-vessel. As they were making across
the Gull stream, they saw what proved to be a
shipwrecked crew in their own boat ; they took
them on board the steamer, and found they
were the crew, eight in number, of the schooner
Xlizpah, of Brixham. The schooner 'had stranded
on the Goodwin in a thick fog the night previously.
The weather was still thick, and the men could give
no account of the position of the schooner, and
thought it hopeless to try and find her, or to get
her off if they did find her, and so the steamer tuok
the boat in tow, and returned to Ramsgate.
It proved aferwards that as the tide rose it lifted
the vessel, and she floated off the sands. A Broad-
hovelling lugger, while cruising about, fell in with
her, and succeeded in bringing her into Ramsgate.
The vessel and cargo were worth £6,000 or £7,000.
The men obtained £350 as salvage.
The lifeboat men were glad, after their night's
watch and morning's work, to rest a few hours, but
plenty of boatmen remained on watch, ready at any
moment to make up a crew. The cold became hour
by hour more intense, and the fresh breeze grew
steadily into a gale ; the sea at high tide broke in
flying volumes of spray against the pier, thundered
down upon it, and poured over it, in foaming cas-
cades, into the harbour. As the evening grew on,
the gale became terrific in force ; heavy snow-
storms went sweeping by ; showers of freezing
sleet came rushing along ; and the night was
dreary and dismal, dark and cold in the
extreme. At half-past ten the storm was in its full
fury, and the sea a very howling wilderness of
raging waters. At that moment, mid the roar of
the wi►id and sea, the signal guns were heard, and
rockets were seen in the direction of the Gull light-
ship. " The lifeboat was manned with despatch,"
would be the short report the coxswain of the boat
would afterwards make to the harbour-master—
this means, that the boatmen, in spite of the
piercing cold and terrific gale, rush along the
pier, hurry down the harbour steps into the
boat, to face the dread peril the wild sea as readily
as the schoolboys bound down the school stairs
and out on to the common for the joy of a summer
holiday. It takes the steamer and lifeboat about
one hour and a half to urge their way out to the
Gull light-ship; they speak her about one in the
morning, and are WA that the men on board saw,
some time since, a large light burning south-east
by south, but they lost it about twenty minutes
ago. The steamer at once tows the boat in the
direction, a careful look-out is kept, the snow-
storm came down more wildly than ever, the
cold is very bitter, the sea running mountains
high ; still on, and no sign of a light. The
crew hold a consultation as to what is best to be
done ; there appears no possibility of one of the
crew of the vessel being still alive, clinging to any
floating wreckage ; still, some other vessel may be
in danger, they will wait and watch for any light
or signal of distress, and, not seeing it, at all events
remain there until daylight, that they may be sure
they are not leaving behind them any who may
be perishing for want of their aid ; and so, while

* Extracted from Macmillan's .Magazine for .kugust. "A
Tale of the Ramsgate Lifeboat," by the Rev. L Gilmore,
31. A., rector of Holy Trinity, Ramsgate.
f The Bradford, a gift from the people of Bradford to
the National Lifeboat Institution, and by it placed at
Ramsgate, under the control of the harbour authorities.
She is ono of the finest boats in the lifeboat fleet.

THE SUN, LONDON, THURSDAY EVENING, AUGUST 6, 1863.

than they did before, and hope to get alongside,
but again they are overwhelmed in the rush of a
fearful sea, buried in its deluge of broken water,
and the boat is once more hurled away by the force
of the waves many yards from the vessel ; the an-
chor holds, but the tide is running more strongly
than ever, and right away from the vessel, and so
it is hopeless for them to attempt to get any nearer
to her. The tide has risen and is nearly at its
height, the vessel is still more over on her side ; the
deck is completely under water, the top of the
deckhouses is just above the sea ; the crew have
lashed a spar across the wizen shrouds, and are all
clinging to it, while the wild waves rush and
beat over them continually. It is with terrible
agony that the poor crew witness the second failure
of the lifeboat. "She will never come again," says
the captain ; " the men cannot do it, the life must
have been washed and beaten out of them." Great
is their astonishment to find that nOsoonee does the
lifeboat clear herself of the water that seemed to
drown her—no sooner do the men free themselves
from the rush of foam, which has for a time over-
whelmed them—than they begin to cheer again, as
if only rendered the more determined by their se-
cond defeat, and more courageous by the difficulties
and dangers they had endured. And the ship-
wrecked crew, encouraged by the hoarse cheers of
the exhausted, half-drowned boatmen, begin again
to hope ; but it is almost against hope.
The boat is again towed into position by the
steamer, and for the third time makes in for the
wreck. They throw the anchor overboard farther
from the vessel than before, give longer scone to the
cable, sail in well under the ship's stem, again steer
as near as possible to her lee quarter, lower the
foresail. They are within a dozen yards of the ship;
the bowman heaves a rope with his greatest force,
it falls short, the boat sweeps on, they check the
cable, and bring her head to the ship, abreast of her,
but unhappily some distance off.
The captain of the ship had despaired of the boat
being able to come in the third tifue ; but when he
saw her coming he felt convinced it was their last
opportunity of being saved, and determined that if
the boat were again swept from the vessel he would
jump into the sea, and try and swim to her. The
b. at comes, and misses ; and the boatmen see the
captain hastily throw off his sea-boots, seize a life-
buoy, and prepare to plunge into the sea ; they
shout to him not to do so—to the crew to hold him
back. " The tide in its set off the sands would
sweep him away ; the seas would beat his life out
of him ; they will be back again soon, and won't go
home without them."
The steamer has followed the boat as closely
as possible, running down the edge of the sands,
just clear of the broken water. The lifeboat has
swung out to the full length of her cable, and is
in deep water; the men, upon looking for the
steamer, after being again beaten for the third
time from the wreck, find her making towards the
boat. The men on board the steamer had watched
with increasing anxiety and dismay the vain
efforts of the lifeboat; they grew more and more
excited each time the boat returned to them, and
are preparing to run any risk to help the lifeboat
men in their gallant endeavours, so they make in
towards the lifeboat, throw a rope on board, and
then hope to be able to sheer the boat in to the
wreck. The boatmen have hold upon their own
cable, to which the anchor is attached ; they
gradually draw in upon this, while the steamer
seeks to tow the boat nearer aril nearer to the ves-
sel, and for the fourth time they approach the wreck.
The steamer ventures into the rage of the sea, and
her position becomes one of great peril ; she rolls in
the trough of the tremendous waves till her gun-
wales are right under water, and her men cannot
stand on the deck ; the foam and spray dash com-
pletely over her, and tons and tons of water deluge
her deck ; they gradually approach the vessel ; the
lifeboat sheers in, the seas and tile and wind catch
her in their full power, and whirl her away again. A
huge wave bodily sweeps over the steamer ; she is
in extreme danger ; the lifeboat men for the moment
fear that the wave will swamp her ; rolling, plung-
ing, burying herself in the foaming seas, the steamer
bravely holds her own, till to remain longer is cer-
tain death to all; and sorrowfully they have to
give it up, and make out of the rage of the
broken water. The lifeboat men rejoice to
see the steamer get clear of the deadly peril ;
they are in scarcely less danger themselves ; they
cut the steamer's tow-rope, and then find that they
must cut their cable to avoid being dashed over the
wreck, and away they go. They look at each other ;
beaten off for the fourth time, not one heart fails,
not one speaks of giving it up, not one has such a
thought for a moment ; the only consideration is,
what next they shall try ; and weak, and exhausted,
and almost frozen with cold, but determined and
courageous as ever, they are only anxious for the
poor shipwrecked ones whose peril increases every
moment, and hasten to prepare for a fifth effort for
their rescue, strong still in their determination
" that they will not go home without them."
The ship's hull had been now for some time com-
pletely under water, and it was very evident that
she was breaking up fast. She had coals and iron
on board ; this dead weight kept her steady on the
sands, and prevented the waves lifting her and
crashing her down, or she would long since have
been torn to fragments ; as it is, the decks have
burst, and the lighter portions of her cargo are being
rapidly washed out of her ; the sea in some places
is black with coal-dust, and much wreckage, pieces
of her deck and forecastle, and fragments of her
boats, are being rapidly swept away iu the rush of
the tide. Each time that the men on board the
steamer and lifeboat look at the vessel, and see the
crew in the rigging, they think it indeed a won-
drous mercy that they are still safe, and get each
moment more impressed with feelings of deep sym-
pathy for the poor fellows, and with the greatest
eagerness to dare all to save them.
Daniel Reading, the brave and long-tried master
of the steamer, is ill on shore, and so she is in charge
of John Simpson, the mate ; he and William
Wharrier, the engineer, consult as to the possibility
of making another effort with the steamer. The
tide is setting off the sands with such force, that
they cannot see how it is possible for the lifeboat to
get into the vessel ; the crew of the steamer are
ready to second them in any effort they determine
to make. 'They get the mortar apparatus ready,
and hope to approach near enough the ship to fire
a line into the rigging, with which they may haul
a rope from the vessel, which they can give to the
lifeboat craw, and thus enable the men to pull the
boat over the tide, and alongside the ship. They
put the steamer's head towards the wreck, and go
ahead cautiously ; the tide has been flowing some
time ; the steamer does not draw much water ; they
are almost within firing distance ; the steamer is
nearly overrun with the waves, a huge roller comes
rushing along, she lifts high on its crest, falls down
into the trough, as down the side of a wall, and
strikes the sands heavily. The engines are instantly
reversed ; she lifts; and, being a very quick and
handy boat, at once moves astern, and they are
saved from shipwreck; and thus the fifth effort to
save the crew fails. No time is lost—at once the
steamer for the lifeboat, and makes ready to tow
her again into position. Again not a word—scarcely
a thought—about past failures; only eagerness to
commence at once a fresh attempt. " Look out,
my men, here is another rope for you." " All
right 1" is shouted as the line is caught, and the
hawser is drawn into the boat. "All right, tow us
well to windward ; give us a good position, plenty
of room ; we must have them this time. All fast,
away you go, hurrah !" The men watch the ves-
sel as they are being towed past her. "Oh ! the
poor fellows, to think we have not got them yet."
" Well, we have had warm work for it." " But
we will save them—we will save them yet." " !
look how that wave buried them all ! There they
are again. Let us give them a cheer ; it will help
them to keep their hearts up ;" and as the boat rose
on a wave they shouted and waved to the ship-
wrecked crew. " There ! another sea caught her
Look how her masts begin to swing about, in dif-
ferent directions, too; they are getting unstepped
and loose, she is breaking up fast, working all over
—all of a quiver and tremble ! Poor fellows !
poor fellows! we have not a moment to spare—it
must soon be all over, oue way or other 1" Thus
the men speak to each other ; they are in a glow of

eagerness and excitement, and can scarcely restrain
themselves to keep quiet. As they watch the poor
fellows, and time after time the rush of wave and
spray passes, and they can still see them clinging
on, they feel almost as if they could jump at them,
to try and save them ; they lose all sense of weak-
ness, cold, and exhaustion. One of them said after-
wards, " We were thoroughly warm at our work,
and felt like lions, as if nothing could have stopped
us." In this spirit they consult together how they
shall make their next effort. First one plan is sug-
gested and then another ; but these seem to give no
better hope of success than those that have been
already tried. At last a plan is proposed which
must indeed prove rescue to the shipwrecked, or
death to all. " I tell you what, my men, if we are
going to save these poor fellows, there is only one
way of doing it ; it must be a case of save all or
lose all, and that is just it. We must go
right in upon the vessel, hit her between the masts,
and throw our anchor over right upon her decks."
" What a mad-brained trick !" says one ; "
why
the boat would be smashed to pieces." " Likely
enough ; but there is one thing certain, is there
not ?—and that is, that we are not going home and
leave these poor fellows to perish ; and I do not be-
lieve there is any other way of saving them, and so
we must just try it, and God help us and them !"
Not a single word, now, against it ! What ! charge
in upon the vessel, in that mad rage of sea !—V ic-
tory or death ! Indeed ! —Most of the lifeboat men
are married men, with families, loved wives and
loved little ones dependent upon them. Thoughts
of this—tender heartfelt thoughts of this—come to
them. " Well, and so we have, and have not these
poor perishing fellows wives and little ones too ;
and are not they perhaps thinking of them, as much
as we are thinking cf ours ; and shall we go home
without, running all danger, and doing all we can,
and let them see us go home to our dear ones, while
we leave them to perish thinking of theirs ? No !
please God, that shall never be said of us !" Such
thoughts as these pass through the minds of
some of them. Among the ship's crew,
cringing a few feet above the boil of the sea to
the loose and shaking rigging, there is one who
guesses their thoughts. All the others think
it impossible that the lifeboat can make another
effort. He encourages his mates. " I have &file lin
English ships," he says. " I have often heard
about lifeboat work, and I know they never
leave any one to perish, as long as they can see them ;
and they will not leave us."
The boat is towed into position, and they make in
agaiu for the wreck. They get well to windward,
they are crossing the stern of the vessel. A tremen-
dous breaker comes heading along : " Look at that
fellow ! if be catches us, it is all up with us, the
boat will be dashed high up into the masts of the
ship." " Hold on all !" "Ah thank God we have
escaped, it breaks ahead of us." "Ready all; be
ready all," shouts the coxswain. Every man is at
his station, some with the halliards iu hand, others
with the anchor ready to cast overboard ; past the
stern of the vessel the boat flies ; down helm; round
she comes; down foresail, the ship's lee-gunwale is
under water, the boat shoots forward, and hits the
rail of the vessel with a shock that almost throws
all from their posts, as she literally, for a moment,
leaps on board the vessel ; ever with the anchor ; it
falls on the vessel's deck ; all the crew are in the
wizen shrouds ; they cannot get to the boat : a fear-
ful rush of sea is between them and it. Again, and
again, the boat thumps with shocks that almost
shake the men from their hold; the seas are rush-
ing completely over them, the boat is carried
away from the vessel. " Hurrah ! the anchor
holds; veer out the cable ; steadily, my men, stea-
dily ; do not disturb the anchor more than you can
help ; we shall have them now, we shall have them;
let her have a little more-cable ; get your grappling
hook, throw it over that line ; there, you have it;"
and they haul on board a line which had been at-
tached to a cork fender, and thrown from the vessel
early in the day, but which the boatmen had never
before been able to reach.
They get the boat straight; haul in slowly upon
both ropes; cheer to the crew. "hurrah my mates,
hurrah !" All is joy and excitement ; but steady,
attention to order; now the boat is abreast the
wizen-rigging, where the men are. " Down helm !"
the boat sheers in. " Haul in upon the ro2es—
handsomely, my men, handsomely." The boat
jumps forward, hits the ship heavily with her stem,
crashes off a large piece of her forefoot. The men
are for a moment thrown down with the shock ;
up they leap; two men jump on to the bow gun-
wale and seize hold of the captain of the vessel,
who seems nearly dead, drag him in over the bows ;
two of the sailors jump on board. " Hold oa
all ! hold on !" A tremendous sea rolls over them ;
the boat is washed away from the vessel ; the
anchor still holds ; in they sheer the boat again ;
they make the ropes fast, and fasten the boat
alongside to the shrouds ; they will not be washed
away again, until they have all the crew on board.
A man jumps for the boat ; she falls in the trough
of the sea, the man falls between the boat and rig-
ging; a second more and the boat will be on the
top of him, crushing him against the rail of the
vessel, upon which the keel of the boat strikes
heavily ; two boatmen seize him, they are nearly
dragged overboard, they are caught hold-of in time,
and all three are pulled into the boat ; up she flies,
and crashes against the spar in therigging. " Jump
in, men, ; for your lives, jump in !" Now all are on
board, all on board ; cut the lashings ; cut the
cable, up helm, up foresail. The seas catch the
boat and bear her away from the vessel; away she
goes with a bound, flying through the broken water.
Thank God, thank God ! all are saved at last !
Saved at last !
The boat is through the breakers, out into deep
water ; the men have time to look at each other—
and how gladly, how fondly they do so I—all is glad-
ness, and thankfulness, and cheerfulness ; they shake
hands, the rescued and the rescuers, time after time;
the crew of the steamer greet them with cheers!
Who can describe thejoy they all feel at tbe success-
ful ending of their long battle with terrible danger
and threatened death ! They lift the captain
on board the steamer ; he is thoroughly exhausted ;
they carry him into the engine-room, and, in the
warmth there, do their best to revive him, and he
soon rec•ivers. The sailors wont leave the lifeboat.
" No, no, you saved us, you saved us ! You had
plenty, plenty trouble ; we thought you never do it.
We stop with you, we stop with you 1" It is thus
the mate answers in broken English, when they
tell him that the crew would be more comfortable
on board the steamer. The lifeboat men often find
the men whom they have saved thus refuse to leave
the boat ; it is a sort of simple expression of grati-
tude, as if to go would be to desert their new friends
who had done so much for them.
In Ramsgate the anxiety is very great. The
steamer and lifeboat have been out many hours;
nothing can be seen of them in the mist that hangs
over the sands. " Can anything have happened?"
is the restless question put from one to another; it
might well be so in so fearful a storm. At about
half-past two, hundreds of people are collected
on the pier, and, to the great joy of all, the
steamer and lifeboat are seen speeding to the
harbour; flags are flying from the lifeboat—a
sign of success. As they enter the harbour cheer
after cheer welcomes them. The crew land ; they
are ten Danish sailors, from the Danish barque
Aurora Borealis. They are taken to the Sailors'
Home, and well cared for. Many of them are very
weak, and can scarcely walk, but they speedily re-
cover under the hospitable care with which they are
greeted, and are full of gratitude for the rescue so
bravely wroaght out for them, aud are all now well
able to feel that confidence in the untiring courage
of an English lifeboat man, which one of them ex-
pressed in the height of their danger, when he said,
" They will never give us up while they can see

us!"

The Board of Trade, in recognition of the gallant
services of the men, presented them with each.
The King of Denmark forwarded 200 rix-dollars to
be divided among them. They are all poor men,
and these presents proved very acceptable ; but the
joy with all was, and is, in the fact of their having
so succes.tf ally persevered in saving life, in rescuing
their drowning brother sailors ; while all who know
the circumstances declare that never, by laud or sea,
was more gallant service done.