OF SOME OF THE LIFE-BOAT MEN.
"The rank is but the guinea-stamp;
The man's the gold for a' that."
_Burns._
It may be that some of my readers who have followed the adventures of
our Storm Warriors through their varied struggles and heroic deeds, and
have felt sympathy more or less deep for the gallant life-savers, would
like to know a little of one or two of the leading men among those who,
during the last twenty years, or more, have done such good work in the
Ramsgate life-boat on the Goodwin Sands.
Gallant men who, time after time, have plunged their boat into the
thickest of the fray, and heedless of hardship, heedless of peril,
forgetful of self, intent only upon rescuing the distressed, have
laboured on through the dark stormy nights, 'mid the rush of the waves,
the howling winds, the fierce hurricane blasts, the spray, and sleet,
and snow--encountering all dangers, and persevering through all
difficulties, and repaid for all as they have brought home in the
morning's light the brother sailors, or the passengers, whom they have
been instrumental in saving from swift and terrible deaths.
Quiet, broad-chested, steadfast-eyed men, who, by all the scenes they
have witnessed, and by all the hardships they have suffered, and by all
the thoughts of the shipwrecked ones that they have brought safely home,
have it deeply written in upon their hearts: that (to use their own
simple and noble expression) _they have a call to save life_.
Well indeed would it be for the world if more of those to whom talents
are given, and to whom stewardships are intrusted, and who stand
watching the many who are in danger, overrun by the dark troubled waters
of social life--wrecked in poverty, in misery, in ignorance--wrecked for
want of true teaching, true guidance, true sympathy, true love--well
would it be if more of these stewards of God's loans might have the same
noble conviction written in upon their hearts: that they have _a call to
save life_! Then would more lives grow noble by noble work, and become
happy in the consciousness of the happy results, which God grants to the
efforts of all those who humbly seek to live and labour for the good of
others; grants to those who would sooner put to sea 'mid toil and peril,
'mid self-sacrifice and opposition, rather than let the life-boats God
has given for their use rot and canker upon the banks, while the cries
of the despairing and the lost plead in vain from the dark storms and
troubled waters at their feet.
Yes, surely; the humble boatmen of our coasts, our "Storm Warriors,"
afford a lesson by which many may well profit, in the noble
self-sacrificing way in which they realize their mission--_that they
have a call to save life_.
"Who shall be the first coxswain of our new _Northumberland_ Prize
Life-boat?" was the question asked by the Ramsgate Harbour Trustees some
two and twenty years ago; and it was an important and anxious question;
for the good boat required skilful handling to do efficient service, and
if she failed in what was required and expected of her, the life-boat
cause would receive a serious check.
"No man better than James Hogben for the first coxswain; no man among
them all holds a higher character for cool courage, and skill, and
experience;" such was the answer. Hogben had been to sea since he was a
lad; for some years he was sailing in a small vessel that traded between
London and Ostend; then he sailed a little bit of a boat, of about
fifteen tons, between Ramsgate and Dunkirk and Boulogne, winter and
summer. Ask him about it now, and the dangers he used to run; and he
shakes his head, and with a quiet smile tells you that, "He met with a
good many very _whole_ breezes, very!" in that little craft of his.
After that, he had nearly twenty years of hovelling; cruising about the
Goodwin Sands in open luggers in the stormiest winter weather, till he
almost knew the Sands by heart; and so James Hogben was appointed first
coxswain of the Ramsgate life-boat.
Each time that he and his crew went out in her they gained fresh
confidence in her powers; and noble work the good boat did under his
command; indeed from the time the _Northumberland_ life-boat began her
career at Ramsgate to the time she was broken up, from December 1851 to
July 1865, no fewer than two hundred and sixty-one lives were saved by
her and the gallant Storm Warriors who sailed her, from vessels that
were utterly lost; and nineteen vessels, with their crews, were
extricated from the Goodwin Sands and brought safely into harbour.
For nine years Hogben was coxswain of the life-boat, and then came that
dread New Year's Eve, when doubts were thrown upon the telegram that
came from Deal; and there was delay; and the life-boat got out to the
south of the Goodwin Sands only in time for her crew to see the
_Gottenburg_ overwhelmed by the waves, and to hear the last cries of the
drowning men.
Hogben had been out in the life-boat once before that day, and was
exhausted and unwell; and he had a nasty fall in the boat, and hurt his
knee badly, and soon fell seriously ill; his nerves were, for a time,
utterly shattered, and he who had been remarkable for his dauntless
courage became too nervous to walk even down the pier for fear of
falling over.
And although, after a while, he so far recovered as to be able to be
employed as a boatman in the harbour, and as a watchman on the pier, yet
he was never able to go to sea again; his iron constitution broken down
by some thirty years of Storm Warrior life, during the last nine years
of which he had been coxswain of the famous Ramsgate life-boat.
Isaac Jarman was appointed coxswain in Hogben's room.
Who among Ramsgate boatmen has been better known in his time than Isaac
Jarman--or Mr. Jarman, as I suppose I ought to call him now? for is he
not master of a thriving public-house, which he will take good care to
keep respectable? and it will not be his fault if any of his customers
wreck themselves by taking too much drink.
But a yarn on Ramsgate pier with the life-boat coxswain, Jarman, was for
some years quite an institution with many a visitor to Ramsgate, as well
as with many an inhabitant.
When I have known Jarman (it does not seem quite natural _Mistering_ my
old boatman friend) to be out in the life-boat, enduring all the rage of
the storm, and I have imagined the wild scenes 'mid the strife of waters
through which he has been passing, another picture, one in very vivid
contrast, has often presented itself to my mind.
I have remembered the scene I saw one evening when I called upon him,
and found him with his family at tea.
"Come in, sir, come in; you won't disturb us: glad to see you."
His wife and, I think, five little daughters were there, and the baby
boy, the only son, was taken out of the cradle to be shown to me.
And as Jarman dandled the little fellow in his strong arms he said,
"Bless the boy! Bless the boy! he will make a life-boat coxswain some
day, that he will;" and I felt that all the thoughts of the danger of
the work was lost in the joy of saving life; I glanced at the mother,
half expecting some expression of dissent; no, her smile showed that she
was proud of her husband, and that all her sympathies were with him in
his noble work, and that she was quite content that her only boy should
in his day follow in his father's steps and be, like him, one of the
gallant band of life-savers who guard our coasts.
And I have often felt, that however much such pictures of happy
home-circles dwelt in the heart of Jarman, and of his comrades, as they
have struggled out through the dark storms, and rushed into conflict
with the wild seas, yet that they have never caused them to turn back
from any danger, or to lessen one single effort in their warfare to save
life.
Isaac Jarman was turned out into the North Sea almost from his cradle.
His father, a boatman, got severely hurt on board a hovelling-lugger, so
much so, that he was never fit for work again; as a matter of course,
the family became very poor.
Many hungry children to feed, and the arms once so strong now powerless
to labour for them, no wonder that the cupboard was often empty, and the
growing lads forced to do something for themselves as soon as they were
able.
And so Isaac Jarman, when a boy of twelve years old, was sent away to
sea on board a small fishing-smack called the _Pledge_; she was only
twenty-five tons, but used to sail long distances away to fish in the
North Sea, in all weathers, summer and winter.
The poor lad had all the clothing his parents could supply him with, but
that was little more than he stood up in; no waterproof overalls, no
sea-boots, the almost child had to rough it hardly enough; in bad
weather wet through day and night, with no bed to lie upon, and no
change of dry clothes; he used to throw himself down on the floor of the
small cabin, and lie coiled up before the little fire that glimmered in
the stove; the spray oftentimes washing down the hatchway and surging up
against his back, so that he had to be content with being dry one side
at a time; but strangely enough it agreed with him; as that rough life,
with all its strong sea-breezes, and its abundance of good fish diet,
does agree with many a little urchin, who, for sturdiness, is not to be
surpassed by any luxury-lapped little fellow in the land.
After Jarman had finished his apprenticeship in the fishing-smack, he
was for some years in a collier, during which time he was twice wrecked.
And after that for seven or eight years he worked as a Ramsgate boatman,
always on the look-out in rough weather, day and night, with but short
intervals for sleep, for a signal of distress from the Goodwin Sands,
and a call for the life-boat; and so all his training well fitted him
for the post of life-boat coxswain; and when the vacancy was made by
Hogben's illness, Jarman was well chosen to fill the post. For ten
years he continued coxswain of the life-boat, going out in her no fewer
than one hundred and thirty-two times, and helping to save between three
and four hundred lives.
You may see many a medal that has been well won--and that is worthily
worn--by veteran soldier or sailor, but you will find few that have been
better won, or that are more worthily worn, than are the four medals and
a clasp that our Storm Warrior Jarman has to show as records of his
brave and self-sacrificing services; or the three medals that Hogben can
display on high days and holidays; or those given to Reading, the brave
master of the steam-tug _Aid_, and those worn by many another gallant
boatman or sailor, who, at Ramsgate, or at other stations round the
coast, have done true warrior service in saving life from shipwreck.
After holding his post of coxswain for ten years, Jarman found the
exposure too much for him: he was out nine times in one fortnight, five
times in one week; he was seized with a very severe attack of
bronchitis, from which he never thoroughly recovered, and had shortly to
give up going to sea, and resign his position of coxswain.
He had three brothers and a nephew brought up as sailors, all of whom
have been drowned; well do I remember the night when his last brother
was drowned.
It had been blowing a heavy gale for three days and nights, with
continual snowstorms; the vessels at sea were in terrible peril: they
had no help for it but to drive blindly before the gale, unable to see
any of the lights or buoys which mark the sands and shoals. I had heard
that a Ramsgate collier was known to have sailed from the North some
days since, and could not be far off; and it was with a sad heart and
deep anxiety that I lingered on the pier that afternoon watching the
storm. I saw the boatmen all ready on the look-out for any signal, but I
felt, as they felt, that there could be but little hope of any vessels
being able to run the gauntlet of the many sandbanks in that dark storm,
or of being able to make any signals heard, or seen, if they got into
danger.
It was with a deep feeling of dread and apprehension that I left Jarman
and his fellow-boatmen to their dreary and almost hopeless watch; and
they watched on through the long dark hours of the night, ready at any
moment to man the life-boat; but they could discover no signal--the roar
of the storm was too great, the fall of snow too continuous. And yet
during those sad hours while the boatmen crouched, sheltering themselves
as well as they could--watching, and listening, and waiting, but in
vain--the terrible tragedy was worked out; at daylight they saw a wreck
in Pegwell Bay. Man the life-boat! No, too late, she is bottom up, her
masts are gone; she must have been wrecked on the Brake Sand, and been
rolled over and over by the tremendous sweep of the sea, and the tide.
Yes, it is the Ramsgate collier that was expected, and that Jarman's
brother commanded; and he and all his crew have miserably
perished--perished within sight of home, and within half a mile or so of
the life-boat men who were so eagerly watching and waiting for a call to
their rescue, and to whom they could not make their danger known.
And to this day you may see the sad record of the disaster in the
remains of the hull of the wreck, washed high up on the shore in Pegwell
Bay, and there half buried in the sand.
A great grief to Jarman this sad loss of his brother; and the poor man
left a widow and a large family of children; and when fine weather came,
in the early summer, many a friend who had had pleasant chats with the
life-boat coxswain on Ramsgate pier, was surprised to find him
diligently cruising in and out of offices in London; he was canvassing
for votes for the Merchant Seamen's Orphan Asylum, and he laboured on
until he succeeded in getting two of his late brother's children into
that famous institution.
Charles Fish was appointed to succeed Jarman as coxswain, and the
life-boat under his guidance continues to do good service; many times
has he been out in her, and many times has he, through much hardship and
danger, brought saved lives home. And may God in His mercy continue to
shield and bless him and the brave men who sail with him, and aid them
in their gallant efforts to pluck the shipwrecked and the drowning from
all the mighty strife of waters, that battles with such deadly fury when
the storms rage round the fatal Goodwin Sands.
I cannot refrain from bearing my tribute of admiration to worthy Daniel
Reading, a brave, skilful, modest sailor, the master of the steam-tug
_Aid_; many and many a time has he rendered service, which for daring
and skill could not be well surpassed, threading in and out of the
Goodwin Sands 'mid terrible storms while seeking for the position of
wrecked vessels, or making short cuts to tow the life-boat into
position, that no time should be lost in her efforts to save the
drowning crews.
Yes! Reading, and James Simpson, the mate of the _Aid_, and William
Wharrier, the engineer, who have been together more than twenty years,
and have been out on almost every occasion that the life-boat has been
called for, have all three of them done noble and gallant service time
after time, and are indeed well worthy to be ranked among the Storm
Warriors who have nobly fought in the great and good cause of saving
life.
And many another gallant fellow might I mention, whose name stands
worthily on the Ramsgate life-boat roll-call; famous specimens of what a
British sailor should be--full of daring and determination, and skill,
and hardihood; men who are ready to encounter all danger, and to endure
any amount of hardship, in answer to the holy call: to go forth and seek
to save the shipwrecked and the perishing.