After passing Aberdovey and Barmouth, in Cardigan Bay, we sighted Saint
Tudwell's Island; and then rounding Bardsey Island, on which stands a
square white tower, ninety-nine feet in height, with one bright fixed
light shining far out over Saint George's Channel, we ran north past
Porthdinlleyn, steering for Caernarvon, at the southern entrance of the
Menai Straits.
As we sailed along we had a great deal of conversation about lifeboats.
They have been in existence since 1789, when the first boat built
expressly for saving life was launched by Mr H. Greathead, a
boat-builder at South Shields; but some years before that a London
coach-builder--Mr Lionel Lukin--designed a boat which he called "an
unimmergible boat;" and, for the purpose of carrying out his
experiments, he purchased a Norway yawl, which he tried in the Thames.
His plans were entirely successful. He soon afterwards fitted a coble,
sent from Bamborough, in Northumberland. The Duke of Northumberland,
approving of Mr Greathead's invention, ordered him to build a boat,
which was afterwards stationed at North Shields. For a long time his
plan was considered the best, and there are several of his lifeboats,
which are impelled exclusively by oars, still in existence.
For years after their invention, the greater part of the coast was
without lifeboats, until Sir William Hillary, who, while residing in the
Isle of Man, had seen numerous vessels cast away, and lives lost,
expressed his wishes to Mr Thomas Wilson, M.P. for the City of London;
and the two gentlemen called a meeting in 1824, the result of which was
the establishment of the "Royal National Institution for the
Preservation of Life from Shipwreck." From that time forward great
encouragement was given to the building of lifeboats; and there are few
parts of the coast now without them. Of course, a lifeboat must differ
greatly from a common open boat, for even the best of them is easily
filled with water, or upset.
A lifeboat must be buoyant, and firmly ballasted, self-righting,
containing plenty of space for the rescued, strength to battle with the
heavy seas, and power to resist the many strikings against rocks and
wrecks. The buoyancy is obtained by having air chambers formed along
the sides of the boat, and a watertight deck, the space between which
and the boat's floor is filled by air chambers. Beside this, at each
end there are air cases built across, and reaching to the high gunwales
of the bow and stern. The power of discharging water is obtained by
forming a watertight deck at the load-water-line. In this deck there
are several large open tubes, having their upper openings on the surface
of the deck, and the lower ones in the boat's floor, thus passing
through the space between the deck and the floor, and, of course,
hermetically closed to it. In some boats the tubes are kept open, but
in the self-righting boats they are fitted with self-acting valves,
which open downwards only, so that they will allow any water shipped to
pass through them, whilst none can pass upwards. Papa explained that,
as the deck is placed above the water-line, any water resting on it will
be above the outside level of the sea, and will run out through the
valves and tubes into the sea. As fluids always gain their level by
specific gravity, the water passes through the valves until none remains
above the surface of the deck. In the smaller lifeboats, which have no
decks, the only way to relieve the boat is by bailing. It is important
that a lifeboat should be well ballasted, especially the larger
sailing-boats. These are now ballasted with water, which is let in
after the boat is off the beach, and is allowed to fill every available
space to a certain height. By being thus heavily ballasted, they can
make their way through the most tremendous seas, which would drive back
any ordinary boat. Only once has a boat of this description been upset.
A very important feature is that of self-righting. This is obtained by
having air chambers of large size, both at the bow and stern, placed
high above the centre of gravity. As the boat must be well ballasted,
she must have limited breadth of beam, as also limited side buoyancy.
By being properly ballasted, a boat can pass either through or over a
sea without being driven astern. The raised air chambers prevent the
sea breaking over her at the bow or stern; while, if she dips into the
sea, she instantly rises again. By having a limited beam, she gains in
speed, although she loses in stability; but, at the same time, if upset,
she is much more speedily righted; while shorter oars are required, and
fewer men to work them.
Papa was strongly in favour of the self-righting principle. The best
boats are diagonally built, and copper-fastened. The planks are of
mahogany, two thicknesses of half-inch board, with painted calico
between them. The keel is of American elm, and the false keel is one
piece of cast-iron, two and a half inches in width, by four and a half
in depth, weighing nine hundredweight. The stem is of English oak, and
the gunwale of American elm. The floors are of ash or oak. The deck is
of mahogany, well caulked, and seven-eighths of an inch in thickness.
These boats are about thirty-three feet in length over all, eight feet
in breadth, four feet in depth. They pull, when double-banked, ten
oars, which are made of ash, or sometimes fir; and they carry five or
six pairs of spare oars, to replace any which may be broken. They are
fitted with life-lines outside, by which the men, if thrown out of the
boat, can hold on to her, or people swimming can haul themselves on
board. No other boats are built so strongly. The principle adopted for
planking--that of placing the planks diagonally--gives the greatest
possible strength and elasticity, while the mahogany used is of the
best.
The lifeboats themselves are liable to disaster. They may be crushed by
falling masts, or driven right on board a wreck, or against rocks,
where, in spite of the efforts of their crews, they may be dashed to
pieces. It is now very rarely the case that lifeboats are lost. In
some places steamers are used to tow the lifeboat out to sea; but in
most instances she alone can approach a wreck sufficiently near to take
off the crew. The cost of establishing a lifeboat on a station is
estimated at eight hundred pounds, five hundred and fifty being the
price of the boat, her stores, and carriage, and two hundred and fifty
pounds that of a substantial boat-house, while the annual cost is about
seventy pounds.
The weather was remarkably fine, and the sea smooth, as the wind was off
shore. We were generally in sight of the cliffs, which extend along the
coast, and had occasional glimpses of blue mountains beyond, Snowdon
towering above them all, with the Isle of Anglesea on our port side, and
the county of Caernarvon on the starboard. After passing the entrance,
the Straits widen out into a lake-like expanse; but the shores again
close in where the town of Caernarvon is situated.
Except its far-famed castle, there is nothing very, particular to see in
the town itself, which is not so picturesque as many we have visited. A
small river, the Seiont, passes close to it. The whole town is
surrounded by walks united to the castle. The streets, though rather
narrow, are laid out at right angles to each other, and are well paved
and lighted. We landed, and traversed the town. We presently made our
way to the castle. The external walls are ten feet thick, are nearly
entire, and enclose a space of three acres. Within them is a gallery
running right round, with loop-holes for the discharge of arrows. We
clambered up two or three of the towers, which had turrets on their
summits; the most important of them is called the Eagle Tower. We were
shown a dark chamber, twelve feet by eight; and our guide declared that
it was the room in which the first Prince of Wales was born; but, as
papa observed, that could not have been the case, as the tower was not
built at the time; besides, it was not at all the sort of place the
queen would have selected as her bed-chamber; it was far more likely to
have been a prison or guard-room. The castle was built by Edward the
First, soon after his conquest of Wales; and it was finished about the
year 1293. We all considered it the finest ruin we had yet seen. About
the time it was finished, the Welsh, led by Prince Madoc, attacked and
captured the castle; when, according to the customs of the times, they
put its garrison to death, and burnt the town.
Rather more than a century after, Owen Glendower attempted to take the
castle, which was so gallantly defended by the governor placed in it by
Henry the Fourth, that he was compelled to raise the siege. During the
Civil Wars it was captured by the Parliamentary forces, under General
Mytton. Such are the chief historical events I recollect connected with
the fine old ruin.
A considerable number of trading vessels were alongside the quays,
taking in slate and copper ore, the chief products of the district.
Enormous quantities of slate are exported from Wales.
We remained a night here, as it was too late to run through the Straits
to Bangor. Early the following morning, however, the wind was fair, and
we continued on the same course. The tide also favoured us. Had it
been against us, as it runs at the rate of between five and six miles an
hour, we should have made but little progress. The shores are high and
picturesque, with villages here and there, and some handsome residences,
the finest belonging to the Marquis of Anglesea.
We soon came in sight of the tubular bridge carrying the railway across
the Straits. The distance between the cliffs on either shore is eleven
hundred feet. It was curious, as we sailed under it, to look up to a
height of one hundred and four feet, and to see these two enormous tubes
above our heads. Their total length is one thousand eight hundred and
thirty-three feet, which includes two hundred and thirty feet at either
end resting on the land. The tubes are composed of wrought-iron plates,
three quarters of an inch thick, tightly riveted together, the one
carrying the up, and the other the down line. The bridge is supported
by three vast piers, measuring sixty-two feet by fifty-three feet at
their base. This wonderful work is considered to surpass that of the
Menai Bridge. It may be asked how these tubes could ever have been got
up to their present positions. This was accomplished by means of
hydraulic presses of the most powerful description; indeed, it is
asserted that one of them could throw a stream of water twenty thousand
feet into the air,--above five times higher than Snowdon, and five
thousand feet higher than the summit of Mont Blanc. The bridge was
commenced in 1846 by Robert Stephenson, and the first train passed
through it on the 1st of March, 1850; since which time no accident has
happened to it.
A little further on we saw above us the celebrated Menai Bridge. The
piers are each one hundred and fifty three feet high, and five hundred
and fifty three feet apart. Sixteen iron chains, one thousand seven
hundred and fifteen feet in length, pass from pier to pier, and support
the bridge. The chains have a dip in the centre of forty-four feet,
thus allowing the roadway to have a clear elevation of a hundred feet
above high-water at spring tide. These sixteen chains are carried
through sixty feet of solid rock. The whole length of the bridge is
about one-third of a mile, including four arches at one end, and three
at the other, which carry the road out to the two suspending piers. The
bridge was opened in January, 1826. It was designed by Thomas Telford,
the engineer. The work occupied six years, and cost 120,000 pounds,--
much less than an ironclad, and infinitely more useful and durable.
Before it was built people had to cross by a dangerous ferry. We were
surprised to hear that the compensation given to the owners of the ferry
for the surrender of their right amounted to 26,577 pounds--the annual
income of the ferry being computed at 815 pounds 18 shillings.
We sailed on to Bangor, before which we brought-up in the Bay of
Beaumaris. There is not much to see in the town itself, except that it
is pleasantly situated. By climbing the hill above it we obtained a
fine view over the island of Anglesea.
Our chief object in coming here was to see the slate quarries at
Penrhyn. They are of enormous extent, and not less than three thousand
men and boys are employed in them, whose wages amount to upwards of 2000
pounds per week; and it is calculated that upwards of 11,000 people,
including wives and children, find subsistence from working these
quarries. A railway conveys the slate about six miles, to the shores of
the Menai Straits; and upwards of 70,000 tons of slate are annually
exported, the income derived from them being 250,000 pounds per annum.
They are the property of the noble owner of the magnificent Penrhyn
Castle.
We passed through the village of Llandegai--a model of beauty and
neatness--situated at the chief entrance of the castle grounds. We
crossed over by the ferry to Beaumaris, in the island of Anglesea. It
is a very picturesque place, on the north-western side of the bay called
after it. The distance across the bay is about eight miles. From the
shore we could distinguish Penmaenmawr, Puffin Island, Great Orme's
Head, Conway Bay, and other interesting spots. The distance round the
whole island is about eighty miles. On the western shore lies the
island of Holyhead, joined to Anglesea by a bridge. This little island
is made the chief port of departure for the Irish coast.
The appearance of Anglesea is not picturesque, as the country is level,
and there are few trees; but it is surrounded by rocks on the northern
shore. The most rugged portion is Moelfre Bay, where the unfortunate
Royal Charter was wrecked, when so many people lost their lives.
Anglesea was the last part of England in which the Druids practised
their rites. Many of the Druidical remains still exist, the most
remarkable of which are called cromlechs--flat stones resting upon
others, probably serving as altars. Anglesea was governed by its native
princes until the reign of Edward the First, when it became subject to
England. We made our way to the ivy-covered castle, which stands a
short distance from the town. It is nearly square, has a round tower at
each angle, and another at each side, and is surrounded by low massive
walls. The inner court is about one hundred and ninety feet square. To
the north-west of it stands the banqueting hall, seventy feet long. On
the east side is a chapel, in the Early English style of architecture.
The castle was built by Edward the First, soon after those of Conway and
Caernarvon. It was surrounded by a deep fosse, which could be filled by
water from the sea. It held out like that of Caernarvon, but was
captured by the Parliamentary forces under General Mytton.
We got back late, and did not sail until next morning, when we stood for
the entrance of Conway harbour, but had to pull up to the town in a
boat.
We have seen many interesting places; but as we gazed up at the great
walls of the ancient castle of Conway, we agreed it is the most
beautiful and picturesque of them all.
I can give only a brief description of the town. It is surrounded by a
wall twelve feet thick, and a mile and a quarter in length, having
twenty-seven towers and battlements. One of them is called Llewellyn's.
It is entered by five gates, three principal, and one postern; and
another has been formed to admit a suspension-bridge across the river,
similar to that constructed by Mr Telford across the Menai Straits.
Mr Stephenson also designed the tubular bridge through which the
Holyhead railway passes. The town contains some very picturesque
houses, built in the time of Elizabeth.
The castle stands on the verge of a precipitous rock on the south-east
corner of the town. Its walls are triangular in shape, being said to
resemble a Welsh harp; they are fifteen feet thick, and are strengthened
by twenty-one towers. The most striking portion is Queen Eleanor's
Tower; the most curious is the Fragment Tower. Two centuries ago some
of the inhabitants, searching for slate, undermined it, when a portion
fell, leaving a perfect arch, since which period not a stone has fallen
away, and it is still as firm as ever. We wandered round and round the
castle, wondering at the massiveness of the masonry. It would have
still been perfect--for it was spared by the Parliamentary forces who
captured it--had not a Lord Conway, in Charles the Second's reign,
stripped off the timber, lead, and other materials to sell. The
vessels, however, conveying the materials to Ireland, were lost, and the
greedy baron gained nothing by the barbarous proceeding.
Pulling down the river, we returned on board, and immediately getting
under weigh, beat out of Beaumaris Bay. Having taken a look at Puffin's
Island, and rounded the lofty promontory of Great Orme's Head, with a
fair wind, we stood for the mouth of the Mersey.
By keeping very close in shore for some distance we got a view of
Llandudno, now become a fashionable watering-place, and sighted
Abergele, where the fearful railway accident happened some years ago,
when so many people were crushed or burnt to death. We also passed over
the spot where the Ocean Monarch was burnt, almost close to the land;
yet out of nearly four hundred passengers, nearly half were lost. The
ship was so near the beach that good swimmers could easily have reached
the shore. The survivors were rescued by the boats of various vessels
which came to their assistance.
It was getting dusk when we sighted the bright light on Ayr Point at the
mouth of the river Dee. As the navigation of the Mersey is difficult
during the dark, we ran up the river a short distance, and came to an
anchor off the town of Mostyn.
The Dee is a most picturesque river, from its source in Merionethshire
to Chester; but its navigation at the mouth is somewhat difficult, owing
to the large deposits of sand, which have to a great extent blocked up
the channel. Between Chester and the mouth are two nourishing towns,
Holywell and Flint. The chief wealth of Flintshire consists in its lead
mines, which are very productive; and not only is lead dug up, but
silver, of which about ten ounces is found in every ton of ore. Flint
has a castle; but it is not equal in picturesque beauty, we are told, to
those we had already seen.
Before daylight we were again under weigh, as we had numerous
lighthouses and lightships to guide us; indeed, no river is more
perfectly lighted than the Mersey, for numerous shoals lie at its
entrance, and few rivers have so many vessels standing in and out at all
hours. We counted no less than eight lights as we sailed along.
Daylight broke as we came off the mouth of the river; and the wind being
fair and moderate, we stood up without fear of getting on shore. We
followed a homeward-bound clipper fruit vessel, passing the entrance to
numerous fine docks, and shipping of all descriptions. We picked up a
tolerably safe berth among several other yachts. It was well we got up
when we did, for soon afterwards the whole river seemed covered with
spluttering, hissing, smoking, panting, busy little steam-vessels,
crossing to Birkenhead, on the Chester shore, or running up the river or
down the river, or visiting vessels at anchor in the stream. The tide
also had just turned. The wind being light and fair, numbers of
outward-bound ships got under weigh, carried on their course by steamers
lashed alongside. As soon as we had dressed and breakfasted, we pulled
to a landing-stage outside the docks.
Giving a description of Liverpool is out of the question. We made our
way over bridges until we reached the quays, and then through streets
with enormously high warehouses, many of them constructed entirely of
iron. We passed the Custom House, which stands on the very site of
Lyrpul, the old pool from which Liverpool derives its name having been
long since filled up. It is said to be one of the most magnificent
pieces of architecture that our age has produced. Near the Custom House
is the Exchange, with a wide square in front; and further to the left
the parish church of Saint Nicholas, interesting from its antiquity.
Passing along a fine street, we reached Saint George's Hall, a sumptuous
Corinthian building, upwards of four hundred feet in length. As within
it the judicial proceedings of Liverpool are conducted, it is known as
the Assize Court. The most interesting place we visited near the water
was the Sailors' Home, a fine building, opened in 1850. At each corner
is a square tower, surmounted by a dome, the summit of which is one
hundred feet from the ground. Passing through the Canning Place
entrance, we entered a lofty hall, surrounded by galleries communicating
with rooms on the several floors. The building contains a large
dining-hall, a lecture-room, reading-room, savings bank, and nautical
school. Both officers and men are received, and a seaman may lodge
there a day, or for as long a time as he remains in port, during which
time he is provided with board and medical attendance at a very moderate
rate.
After walking through the streets of Liverpool, we crossed by a ferry to
Birkenhead, and made our way to a spot of high ground, from whence we
could obtain a complete panoramic view of the town and river. Looking
to our right, we saw the Mersey flowing from the south in a northerly
direction towards the Irish Sea. Below us, in the midst of the stream,
we could distinguish, extending in a long line from right to left, some
of the largest merchant-ships in the world. There were also smaller
craft of every description, with the flags of nearly all nations flying
from their mast-heads, either ready to sail, waiting for orders, or
preparing to go into dock; while others, with wide-spread canvas, or
with steam tugs alongside, were coming up or down the river. Before us
we made out a huge tobacco warehouse, and behind it, dock beyond dock,
far away to the south, and still further towards the sea and the north.
On one side was the King's Dock, the Queen's Basin and Dock, the Coburg
Dock, the Union Dock, and the Brunswick Dock--"their names showing," as
papa observed, "the periods at which they were formed." To the north of
King's Dock we saw the Albert Dock, with the Marine Parade in front of
it; also Salthouse Dock, Canning Dock, George's Dock, with its
landing-stage towards the river; and the enormous Prince's Dock still
further to the south, and a line of basins and docks beyond. These
docks are not small pools, but large rectangular lakes, crowded thickly
with magnificent shipping loaded with the produce of numberless
countries, their tall masts rising towards the sky in dense groves,
their yards so interlocked that it seemed impossible that they could
ever be extricated. The sight gave us some idea of the number of
vessels which belong to Liverpool, or annually visit this port.
Beyond this double row of docks we saw the vast city rising gradually
from the water, with winding streets extending from the Custom House in
all directions, the larger running eastward, with numerous churches and
other public buildings scattered amid them; and far beyond, squares and
parks, with streets of handsome private residences.
Little more than a century ago Liverpool possessed only three small
docks, and the shipping belonging to the port amounted to only 236
vessels. At present upwards of 10,000 vessels belong to the port; while
the ships entered outwards and inwards number upwards of 30,000, with a
burden of more than four million tons. We went on board a training-ship
for poor boys taken from the streets, to fit them for becoming seamen in
the merchant service. There is also another ship to prepare officers,
conducted on the same principle as that of the Worcester in the Thames.
We then pulled on board a large Australian emigrant ship about to sail.
She carried three classes of passengers. The first had very handsome
cabins surrounding the saloon, which was fitted up in a luxurious style.
On the deck below there were the second-class passengers, whose cabins
were comfortable, but confined, and their mess-cabin was rather small
for the number of people to occupy it. The larger part of the lower
deck was fitted with rough wooden berths, partitioned off for each
family, one sleeping-place being above the other, and a small space in
front for the people to dress in. There was an after division occupied
by the single women, who had a matron to superintend them; while the
single men were also in a division by themselves. They were all under
the care of a surgeon. There was a schoolmaster, to teach those who
wished to learn during the voyage, and to act as chaplain. Constables
were selected from amongst the most respectable of the married men,
whose duty it was to keep order, and to see that the rules and
regulations were properly observed. Of course, with so many people
crowded together, it is highly necessary that cleanliness should be
attended to. The ship was getting under weigh, and the people who had
come to see their relatives and friends off were ordered into their
boats. We witnessed many pathetic scenes. There was much fluttering of
handkerchiefs as the boats pulled away, while the women crowded the
sides, and the men climbed up into the shrouds and waved their hats.
The moorings were slipped, the tug began puffing and snorting, and the
stout ship commenced her voyage half round the world, bearing away many
who were never again to see their native shores. Many thousands of
people thus leave Liverpool for Australia, New Zealand, or the Cape, as
well as for Canada, the United States, and South America, every year.
It took us four days to obtain even a cursory view of Liverpool and
Birkenhead. We were very glad to be at sea again. The weather was hot,
and running about all day was tiring work. Leaving the river, we
steered along the Lancashire coast, but did not put into any of its
numerous harbours, contenting ourselves with looking at the chart and
reading a description of each place as we came off it. Our course was
for the Mull of Galloway, the most southern point of Scotland; but we
could not steer directly for it, as we should have run down the Isle of
Man, "and sunk it, for what we could tell," as Dick observed. We had
therefore to keep to the eastward of that island. Among the places we
passed were Lytham, Blackpool, and Fleetwood; and then, crossing
Morecambe Bay, we passed Walney, to the south of the river Duddon. From
Fleetwood a number of vessels run across to the Isle of Man. We were
much amused on coming on deck in the morning to hear Dick Pepper remark:
"Hullo! what's become of the land?"
It was the first time that we had been actually out of sight of land.
"How shall we manage to find our way now?" he asked.