Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1862-01-11
A STORY OF CORNISH wRECKERs.
How Ned Smith Won His Medal.

were IN existence, went Win TWO friends 70
lodge in Cornwall. The place was the most
cross-country road, and only reached by yen-
turing over q track-for it cosld not even be
called path-winding along the edges of
cliffs often two or three hundred feet above
the beach, IL was place TO delight all whose
good fortune had carried them within sight
of Il.
The southernmost end of the bay closed in
deep slope Of living green, caused by land
slip, in which the tart had slid down like
veil to hide the ruin it left behind, of which
nothing was seen from the beach but back
ground Of towering rocks Like some old Nor,
man castle, We fancied them still resisting step
by step the advances Of decay. 1t was near
this southern point that the traces Of former
lawfess doings were still to be seen. A small
hole, apparently only a fox-den, led into
cave where thousand kegs of French brandy
had often been stored in a single night.
We were anxious to learn whether the tales
We had heard Of Cornish wreckers were true,
and it was some questioning on this subject
which drew from the old miller the following
story:
az can't say / never heerd of such things,
but / never seed no such doings myself I
have lived here, man and boy, these seventy
years" he said; ''many and many's the night
we've been watching on these bleak cliffs for
chance TO help the poor creatures as had
only a frail plank between them and death
Scores Of lives I've seed saved, but never one
took; no, not even Of a brute beast that came
to shore from all the multitude of wrecks I've
seem I'm not going to say that when the
ships, poor things, are all broken up and the
dmbers come ashore-Im lot clear to say
there is not some small matter as never gets
reported to the kings men. Little / blame
them that take it, for as the Lords above us,
/ believe it is more the fault of those that
keep back the honest dues for the salvage
in fha hat ka-
(and he pointed to some pretty things made
by his son, Of the bright-colored logwood)
'was coming in, there was those as worked
night and day, landing it, and after all their
toll they wanted to pay them of with just
quarter of what was the right money So if
they that are so well of try to cheat like that,
I'd ask your honors if it is not setting an ex.
ample to the poor?
There's Ned Smeeth, now-he as got that
fne medal from that grand place up to Lon
don-rm sure he is as tender-hearted as a
child, but you'll never make him believe there
IS any sin in taking a stray bsulk or two the
tide brings in, and nobody owns; while, after
he'd been working for q whole week, they
wanted to pay him with a little more than
nothing. That's what call stealing
But my old head is forgetting the story
Well, well, you must please TO excuse it. 1t
ties.
"'Twas seven years last November-I mind
it well-me and Ned was standing as your
honor and me is now, by my old hut here. It
had been bitter night Of weather, and was
still % dark We could not see even the clods
Of foam that kept flying in our faces. I'd Just
put the mill going with some barley, and
vas minded to lie down for nap flor you see
always wake when the eorn's down, and 80
don't trouble about the milD when I thought
heard gun. / could not make sure, for the
wind was lashing the waves mountains high,
md fha ka az fha bar Il
stun body. Says Ned, Ned, you're a
more spray man than me, just take look out
to sea- Well, he'd not gone but step or
two when the report came again full and true,
and even my old eyes could see the fash. 7
stepped up and turned of the water, and Ned
and me went and called up the neighbors I
sent boy on horseback to Trebsrfoot to bring
more help; and getting the ropes and things
We should want, If anything could be done for
the poor creatures en- board the distressed
chip, We went to the point We thought she
would strike on. We had no help from our
eyes, but were guided By our knowledge of
the wind and tide.
" 1t might be about FIVE, or between that
and six o'clock, when we got to Saltstone We
could not stand against the wind, but were
obliged to lie down on the edge Of the cliff to
try to discover the vessel. 1t seemed whole
night, though suppose it could not be more
than an heur, before we could see or hear any
thing more than the fash of the gan and the
roar Of the wind and waves. After q bit we
touched hands, and went back to a more shell
tered place to talk over what was best to be
done. Some we're for lighting fire to try to
guide them into Widemouth Sand bay, but I
knew twas no use, for was sure the vessel
had not q rag Of canvas standing to help her
helm, even if the helm itself was still service
able, and 30 she could never make a reach to
clear Deadman's Corner, and might miss the
only chance Of running into deep quiet water
near the Cupboard Rock.
f" All at once, while We were doubling what
to do, We heard 9 crash and cry, such as only
stranded ship and the perishing souls on
board Of her can make. All you talk of Cor
nish wreckers-but there was wet eyes among
US then, and mems hearts that never knew
fear huttered like leaves on the lime-tree.
We stood right above where the vessel
struck. Sheer up from the beach-we meas
ured Ii afterusrds-tvo hundred and fourteen
feet. A mouse could not have found footing
down that clif, and as it was within an hour
Of high water, no help could come to them poor
souls but by letting some one down from the
place we stood on. trE-
10 see each other, and the white line of the
shore-wayes. Some thought they could see
the wreck; cannot tell If Il was 90. For
certain We could hear now and then, fainter
and fainter, the cry Of mortal man
"'l cant stand this no longer, says Ned, at
u.
with my two hands idle, while they, poor crea.
lures, are beaten to death against the very
rocks We stand on. Bear hand, hsre-I'il
20 down this place
"ws stood like men blind and deaf for
minute, and then all tried TO persuade him out
Of il, for We thought il was certain death. The
rope most likely would be cut through frsying
over the elf, or the wind might dash him with
fatal force against the rocks. But nothing
would stop him: he knotted the rope round his
waist, and taking q short gaf in his hand, stood
ready to slip of. He turned q moment, and
says he:
Give my love to Mary and the children,
and If never see them more, don't let them
come to the parish
I" He shook hands all round, and stepped
Oh, and in moment he was hanging all his
weight on the rope We held.
For Gods sake lower away he cried, Il
see them
1--WE saw theu, too, for God rent the black
clouds, and looked through to see that noble
dad m fha tkars ua n nf