AFTER THE EVENT.
"Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies.
"She girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms.
"She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth
her hands to the needy.
"Strength and honour are her clothing, and she shall rejoice in time
to come.
"She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the
law of kindness.
"Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all.
"Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain; but a woman that feareth
the Lord, she shall be praised.
"Give her of the fruit of her hands; and let her own works praise
her in the gates."--Solomon.
It was not possible for Grace to carry out the Scriptural injunction,
and not let her right hand know what her left hand did, for no sooner
was the account of the wreck published in the newspapers, than the most
intense excitement was created, and a whole stream of admiration and
praise set in the direction of the lighthouse-girl. Such an occurrence
would naturally arouse the enthusiasm of our countrymen and
countrywomen, who would consider that they could not too strongly
express their feelings of delight.
All thoughts were immediately turned to the wreck, and great interest
was felt in the survivors. Inquiries were at once made, in order to
ascertain the number of those who were lost in the "Forfarshire." It
was not possible to do so, however, for no entries had been made at the
time of embarkation, so that it was never certainly known how many had
perished. It was supposed that the passengers numbered more than
fifty, and the crew about twenty. Many of the sufferers were Scotch,
and some came from a long distance. One gentleman lost his wife, son
and grandson; another his mother and brother. The captain, and his
wife, as has been already stated, were both drowned.
Many people visited the wreck, some from curiosity and some because
they had a good purpose in view. The wreck consisted of the
forecastle, part of the engine, paddle-wheels, anchor, cable, foremast,
and rigging. Two of the boilers were broken on the rock, and the
others were washed out to sea. Search was made for the missing bodies,
with partial success; but the cargo, which was of great value, could
not be restored. Parts of the wreck were brought by the waves to
different places, such as Hauxley, Amble, Hartley, and other parts of
Northumberland. The fishermen and revenue officers made every effort,
and rendered all possible assistance, but nothing of much value could
be recovered.
While this was going on, the Longstone lighthouse became the centre of
a marvellous fascination to thousands of people. The story of the girl
going out in the boat over a stormy sea, and succeeding in saving a
number of lives that were in jeopardy, thrilled the hearts of all who
read, and made them eager to know more of the wonder. Nor was simple
curiosity all that was excited. It was felt that such a deed deserved
most substantial reward, and a public subscription was at once set on
foot. To this the bank-notes and gold of the wealthy, the silver of
the middle classes, and the coppers of the poor, were willingly given;
and in a short space of time Grace was presented with the splendid sum
of 700 pounds.
"The Royal Humane Society" could not allow such an act to pass by
without notice, but forwarded a very expressive and flattering vote of
thanks to her. As if this were not enough, the President of the
Society presented her with a very handsome silver teapot, in generous
acknowledgment of her service. Money, indeed, flowed in as well as
congratulation and praises. From Sunderland a cheque was sent by Mr.
Kidson; and we are able to give Grace's reply:--
"_To Mr. Kidson, Sutherland._
"Kind Sir--I acknowledge the receipt of yours of yesterday, with the
cheque for 15 pounds, 2 shillings, for which I trust you will return my
sincere thanks to the subscribers. At the same time, I should feel
much additional gratification if you could, without much trouble, send
me the names of the same, which I wish to preserve.
"I remain, Sir,
"Your very obliged servant,
"G. H. DARLING.
"Longstone Light,
January 22nd, 1839."
At Newcastle, as was only to be expected, the greatest enthusiasm
prevailed, and in that town alone the sum subscribed reached the amount
of 280 pounds, 10 shillings, 3 pence. Of this Grace herself received
160 pounds, while a present of 58 pounds was made to her father, and 35
pounds to the North Sunderland boatmen.
A statement of the amount of subscriptions having been forwarded to her
in a letter, Grace was so affected by the perusal of its contents,
that, as she noted the sympathising language in which it was couched,
she shed tears of pleasure so exquisite as are rarely shed by mortals.
In the reply, after expressing, in natural and unstudied language, the
grateful sense entertained by her of the kindness of her friends in
that town, she solicited the names of the subscribers. It was only
natural she should wish to know and preserve them, for they were those
of her really warm friends and admirers. This request was
unhesitatingly complied with, and the sheet has been carefully
preserved in the lighthouse, where we suppose it may still be seen.
Amongst the list occur the Trinity House, the Corporation, T. E.
Headlam, Esq., (that year mayor), Richard Clayton, Matthew Bell, M.P.,
George Hawks, Joseph Cowen, and a great many others.
An additional pleasure, as gratifying as any previously received, was
the following letter, addressed by the hero of Navarino to the Editor
of the "Sun":--
"SIR--As I do not know where to send the enclosed subscription for
Grace Darling, I shall feel obliged by your forwarding it to the
committee.
"I earnestly hope that the amount collected may be commensurate with
the extraordinary deserts of that heroic girl, whose conduct in such a
perilous and almost hopeless undertaking, does honour to humanity.--I
remain, &c.
"E. CODRINGTON."
"The Royal National Institution for the Preservation of Life from
Shipwreck" voted the silver medal of the Institution to Mr. Darling and
his daughter, and also subscribed the sum of 10 pounds in aid of the
Darling Fund.
The Directors of the "Glasgow Humane Society" sent to Grace their
honorary medal, to mark the high sense entertained by them of her
meritorious conduct. It bears the following inscription:--
"Presented by the Glasgow Humane Society to Miss Grace Horsley Darling,
in admiration of her dauntless and heroic conduct in saving (along with
her father) the lives of nine persons from the wreck of the
'Forfarshire' Steamer, 7th September, 1838."
The money was most freely and lavishly contributed, every one appearing
to feel it an honour to testify their appreciation of the heroism and
simple courage of Grace Darling in every conceivable way. His Grace,
the Duke of Northumberland, exhibited a very kindly interest in all
that was being done, not only giving a handsome subscription towards
the testimonial himself, but taking charge of the moneys that were
collected. Nor did his kindness end even here; for with a sincere
desire that the greatest possible advantage should be gained from the
contributions of the public to the maiden for whom they were sent, he
advised her as to the best means of disposing of the sums.
If she had chosen, Grace might have made very considerable profit out
of the deed. Of course, her portrait was taken, and copies of it sold
with astonishing rapidity. Pictures were painted and printed, and the
members of every household appeared to wish to possess one. Seeing the
furore which the girl had excited, one enterprising manager of a
theatre conceived the idea of having the occurrence represented on the
stage, and offered her 800 pounds for merely sitting in a boat, so that
all eyes might see her. She, however, was too modest a girl to take
delight in anything of the kind. "She was glad to have saved lives at
the risk of her own," she declared, "and would most willingly do it
again if opportunity should occur, but she could not feel that she had
done anything great; and certainly she did not wish for the praise that
was bestowed upon her. As to going to the theatre to receive the
plaudits of a curious crowd, that was the last thing she desired!"
She was very nearly being caught in a trap however, which was rather
cleverly laid for her. When receiving congratulations and being
interviewed was the order of the day, and therefore excited no
suspicion, a stranger came to the lighthouse, who announced himself as
a friend of Mr. Batty, the proprietor of an equestrian circus, which
was then exhibiting at Edinburgh. Mr. Batty had given an entertainment
for the benefit of Grace, and had thereby brought an overflowing
audience to his theatre. The stranger who came was welcomed as usual
by the Darlings, who gave him all the hospitable attentions that were
in their power, as indeed was their custom. They could not help being
pleased with him, for his manners were courteous, his conversation
lively, and he evidently had a great desire to ingratiate himself into
their favour. He held frequent talks with Grace, whom he flattered
warmly, though so respectfully that he did not give offence, and after
a time he contrived to insinuate a hint of his plan.
"The people of Edinburgh admire you exceedingly, Miss Darling. I
cannot imagine anything that would give them greater pleasure than to
see you, if you would visit their beautiful city."
"I should like to see it very much, but I do not care to be looked at
by the curious eyes of strangers," said Grace.
"Indeed, if the people are strangers, they would be more friendly than
curious, and you know how sincere is their admiration of your heroic
act," said the man.
"I know they are much more kind than I deserve; and really I am not
sure but that it would make me happy to shake the hands of some of them
who are, though I have never seen them, my friends."
"I wish you would come while Mr. Batty's company is there, Miss
Darling. It would give me great pleasure to show you any of the lions
of Edinburgh, or indeed to serve you in any way I could."
"You are very kind; I will think about it."
"Cannot you decide while I am here? Mr. Batty would himself be most
delighted to see you! May I not say that we shall have the pleasure?
"Perhaps you may. I almost think I will accept the kind invitation."
"Thank you. It will give me the most intense satisfaction, you may be
quite sure of that."
Before the gentleman went away, he said something which Grace seemed to
consider in the light of a joke about her presenting herself in Mr.
Batty's circus. But the young woman did not of course seriously
consider such a thing, nor even look at it in the light of a
proposition.
Before he left the visitor handed a paper to Grace, requesting her to
sign it. She ought to have read it, but not being well versed in the
ways of the world, did not consider it necessary to do so; and only
glanced at a word or two before writing her name, imagining that she
was simply sending an acknowledgment of the money that Mr. Batty had
forwarded.
Then the man left; but if he had only honestly declared his true
errand, his reception would have been very different.
What this really was came to light a few days later, when an old and
valued friend of the family visited the lighthouse. Grace went forward
to greet him with a smile of warm welcome, when she was suddenly
chilled by his very grave and cold manner.
"You are not pleased with me? What is the matter?" cried Grace.
But the friend turned to William Darling, and began to expostulate with
him.
"I am not surprised that you should be carried away by the stream of
admiration which has been lately pouring in upon you," he said, "but I
never expected that you would consent to such a thing as this in
connection with Batty. Grace might not know better, perhaps, but I
cannot think how her father could ever give his consent to her
submitting to the degradation of exposing herself in the area of a
circus for any idle eyes that please to gaze upon her."
"What do you mean?" cried Mr. Darling, in horror. "I cannot understand
you! I have given my consent to nothing of the kind!"
"Have you really done it without your father's permission?" said the
friend, turning to Grace.
"I wish you would explain yourself," said she. "I do nothing without
first consulting my father, and I am conscious of no wrong now."
"Yes, explain yourself," said Mr. Darling. "No man can be more anxious
than I to protect his daughter. Grace never has, and never shall do
anything that would compromise her fair fame. I will watch jealously
over that."
William Darling felt warmly, and spoke as he felt, and the visitor
hastened to explain.
"I am told on good authority, and indeed I know it to be true, that Mr.
Batty holds an agreement, signed by Grace, in which she pledges herself
to appear in his circus!"
"Oh, Grace, you surely never did such a thing!" cried her father.
"No, father; indeed, I did not," said Grace, upon whom, however, a
light flashed which caused her to suspect the urbane visitor of a few
days before. "But, father, I did sign a paper, which I believed was
nothing but an acknowledgment of the money that Mr. Batty sent me."
"Did you put your name at the bottom of the document without first
reading it?"
"Yes, I did."
"A most foolish thing to do," remarked their friend; "but the conduct
of the man who secured a promise in such a way, was most abominable."
"Certainly it was," replied Mr. Darling; "and such an agreement cannot
be binding. Indeed, I will at once compel Mr. Batty to contradict the
report which is afloat. What a shame it was!"
Grace coloured with vexation, and there was an indignant ring in her
voice, which told how deeply the insult had hurt her.
"I could not help being flattered by the attentions he paid me," said
Grace; "but now, that I see what they were for, I feel completely
humiliated."
"I will write a letter to this Batty at once," said Mr. Darling, "and
let him know what we think of his conduct."
"Do," replied his friend, "you cannot be too decided in such a matter."
Mr. Darling wrote, expressing, in strong terms, the indignation which
they all felt at the deception which had been practised upon them, and
insisted that Mr. Batty should at once contradict the false report
which he had published.
The friend who had cared so much for the family as to come to the
islands to expostulate with the Darlings on this subject, received the
warmest thanks, both of Grace and her father, for his kindness and
solicitude. Grace felt that she could scarcely forgive Mr. Batty; and
never afterwards alluded to the circumstance, without giving expression
to her feelings of mortification. She had been really humiliated; and
the occurrence caused her to feel what every woman does feel in similar
circumstances, that although good deeds draw the attention of the world
upon herself, yet there is very much that is repugnant connected with
publicity. The little glimpse that is here given of the character of
Grace Darling's father is interesting. He was a member of the Church
of England, and a good man. He was upright, honourable, and
courageous, as we have already seen several times; and he was very
particular with regard to the habits of the children. He did not allow
cards nor dice in his household, nor believe that people could go to
theatres without receiving some contamination. He wanted the young men
and women of his family to be content with simple pleasures, and find
their joy in doing their duty, and in the companionships of their home.
He had a special wish that the girls should be modest and retiring; and
although Grace had been forced to the front, he was still anxious that
she should not lose any of her maidenly reserve. It can, therefore, be
imagined how she was shocked and pained at the idea of her appearing in
the circus.
Grace become more and more famous as the time went on. She paid a
visit to the Duchess of Northumberland, who sent for her, but such an
event deserves a special chapter. She did not see the Queen, but Her
Majesty was well acquainted with the heroic deed, and the following
ballad is said to have been sung in the presence of our royal and
beloved Lady:--
"The winds blew hard, the day looked dark,
The clouds shot light'ning forth,
But still the bold and vent'rous bark
Sailed from the black'ning north.
To foam was dashed each threat'ning wave,
As o'er the vessel flew;
The sea yawned like a hungry grave
Around the gallant crew.
"When night closed in the storm grew worse,
The boldest heart did quail;
The pious prayer--the wicked curse--
Were mingled with the gale.
On, on they flew, with fated force;
They struck the deadly reef:
They sank! and through the wind so hoarse
Was heard the shriek of grief.
"While many a manly spirit quenched
Its life beneath the wave,
A few from death a moment wrenched,
Clung o'er an awful grave.
Their cries were heard from lonely tower,
Unseen amidst the gloom;
A simple girl was sent, with power
To snatch them from the tomb.
"She urged her aged sire to ply,
With her, the frail boat's oar;
A father's love had mastery,
He dared not leave the shore.
Her prayers prevailed--they forth were led
By God's own helping hand;
And those who were accounted dead
Sang praises on the land.
"'Tis sad to think the ocean cave
May hide a gem so pure--
But joy to feel 'tis ours to save
Such worth from fate obscure.
Then let us sing 'The boatie rows,'
To tell of her fair fame,
Who honour on the race bestows--
Grace Darling is her name.
"'The boatie rows, the boatie rows,'
In safety through the deep;
For Grace on Mercy's mission goes,
And angels watch shall keep."
Numerous songs in honour of the lighthouse-maiden were written and
sung, some of which we shall give in these pages. Among the rest was
the following, which both Grace and her father highly esteemed, as it
was from the pen of Wordsworth:--
"Among the dwellers in the silent fields
The natural heart was touched, and public way,
And crowded street, resound with ballad strains,
Inspired by one, whose very name bespeaks
Favour divine, exalting human love,
Whom, since her birth on bleak Northumbria's coast,
Known but to few, but prized as far as known,
A single act endears to high and low
Through the whole land--to manhood, moved in spite
Of the world's freezing cares--to generous youth--
To infancy, that lisps her praise--and age,
Whose eye reflects it, glistering through a tear
Of tremulous admiration. Such true fame
Awaits her now; but, verily, good deeds
Do not imperishable record find
Save in the rolls of heaven, where her's may live,
A theme for angels, when they celebrate
The high-soul'd virtues which forgetful earth
Has witnessed. Oh! that winds and waves could speak
Of things which their united power call'd forth
From the pure depths of her humanity!
A maiden gentle, yet, at duty's call,
Firm and unflinching as the lighthouse reared.
On the island rock, her lonely dwelling place,
Or like the invincible rock itself that braves,
Age after age, the hostile elements,
As when it guarded holy Cuthbert's cell.
"All night the storm had raged, nor ceased nor paused,
When, as day broke, the maid, through misty air,
Espies far off a wreck, amid the surf,
Beating on one of those disastrous isles.
Half of a vessel!--half--no more! The rest
Had vanished, swallowed up with all that there
Had for the common safety striven in vain,
Or thither thronged for refuge. With quick glance
Daughter and sire through optic glass discern,
Clinging about the remnant of this ship,
Creatures--how precious in the maiden's sight!
For whom, belike, the old man grieves still more
Than for their fellow-sufferers engulphed
Where every parting agony is hushed,
And hope and fear mix not in further strife.
'But courage, father! let us out to sea--
A few may yet be saved.' The daughter's words,
Her earnest tone and look, beaming with faith,
Dispel the father's doubts; nor do they lack
The noble-minded mother's helping hand
To launch the boat; and with her blessing cheer'd,
And inwardly sustained by silent prayer,
Together they put forth, father and child!
Each grasps an oar, and, struggling, on they go--
Rivals in effort; and, alike intent
Here to elude and there to surmount, they watch
The billows lengthening, mutually cross'd
And shattered, and regathering their might,
As if the wrath and troubles of the sea
Were by the Almighty's sufferance prolong'd
That woman's fortitude--so tried, so proved--
May brighten more and more!
"True to that mark,
They stem the current of that perilous gorge,
Their arms still strengthening with the strengthening heart,
Though danger, as the wreck is neared, becomes
More imminent. Nor unseen do they approach;
And rapture, with varieties of fear
Incessantly conflicting, thrills the frame
Of those who, in that dauntless energy,
Foretaste deliverance; but the least perturb'd
Can scarcely trust his eyes, when he perceives
That of the pair--tossed on the waves to bring
Hope to the hopeless, to the dying, life--
One is a woman, a poor earthly sister;
Or, be the visitant other than she seems!
A guardian spirit sent from pitying heaven,
In woman's shape! But why prolong the tale,
Casting weak words amid a host of thoughts
Arm'd to repel them? Every hazard faced,
And difficulty mastered, with resolve
That no one breathing should be left to perish,
This last remainder of the crew were all
Placed in the little boat, then o'er the deep
Are safely borne, landed upon the beach,
And in fulfilment of God's mercy, lodged
Within the sheltering lighthouse. Shout, ye waves!
Pipe a glad song of triumph, ye fierce winds!
Ye screaming sea mews in the concert join!
And would that some immortal voice,
Fitly attuned to all that gratitude
Breathes out from flock or couch through pallid lips
Of the survivors, to the clouds might bear--
(Blended with praise of that parental love,
Pious and pure, modest and yet so brave,
Though young so wise, though meek so resolute)
Might carry to the clouds, and to the stars,
Yea, to celestial choirs, GRACE DARLING'S name."
By a less-known writer, but one who was evidently a keen admirer of
Grace, the following lines were also written:--
"'Over the wave, the stormy wave,
Hasten, dear father, with me,
The crew to save from the wat'ry grave,
Deep in the merciless sea.
Hear ye the shriek, the piercing shriek,
Hear ye the cry of despair?
With courage quick the wreck we'll seek,
Danger united we'll dare.
"'Out with the boat, the gallant boat;
Not a moment to be lost.
See! she's afloat, proudly afloat,
And high on the waves we're tossed;
Mother, adieu, a short adieu;
Your prayers will rise to heaven.
Father, to you--your child and you--
Power to save is given.
"'I have no fear, no maiden fear;
My heart is firm to the deed,
I shed no tear, no coward tear;
I've strength in the time of need.
Heard ye the crash, the horrid crash?
Their mast over the side is gone;
Yet on we dash, 'mid lightning flash,
Safe, through the pelting storm.
"'The wreck we near, the wreck we near;
Our bonny boat seems to fly;
List to the cheer--their welcome cheer--
They know that succour is nigh.'
And on that night, that dreadful night,
The father and daughter brave,
With strengthened might they both unite,
And many dear lives they save.
"Hail to the maid, the fearless maid,
The maid of matchless worth,
She'll e'er abide the cherished pride
Of the land that gave her birth.
They send her gold, her name high uphold,
Honour and praise to impart;
But, with true regard, the _loved reward
Is the joy of her own brave heart_."
Very beautiful are the following lines, which appeared in the
"Newcastle Chronicle," and were written by Miss Eleanor Louise
Montague:--
"Sweet spirit of the merciful,
That smoothed the watery way!
From the true throb of heart to heart
Thou wilt not turn away;
Oh! softly, wilt thou lend thine ear,
When 'mid the tempest's war,
The feeble voice of woman's praise
Shall greet thee from afar.
"I see thee in thy rock-built home,
Swept by the dashing seas,
I hear thy voice as on that night
It stilled the rushing breeze.
When stirred by heavenly visions,
Thou didst burst the bonds of sleep,
To take thy place in peril's path--
The angel of the deep!
"Oh, where was then the tender form
That quailed to every blast!
Like the bread-gift to the famished,
'Upon the waters cast!'
True to thy woman's nature still,
While scorning woman's fears,
Oh, strongest in her gentleness,
And mightiest in her tears!
"Fair as thine own heroic deed
Thou risest on my dream,
A halo is around thee,
'Tis the tempest's lightning gleam--
Upborne by every billow,
And o'erswept by every gale,
One sound hath nerved thy noble heart--
The dying seaman's wail!
"Thine eye onto the wreck is turned--
Thy hand is on the oar--
Where is that death-prolonging shriek?
It thrills the seas no more!
A human soul to life hath risen
Where'er thy wing hath waved:
The wail is hushed--the storm is past--
The perishing are saved!
"Thou standest, like thy native home,
A beacon lit on high;
Thy name comes o'er the waters
Like a nation's gathering cry;
And England's sons shall hail thee,
Where'er that name shall thrill,
A glory upon every wave--
A light on every hill!"
So much praise was enough to turn the head of any less sensible girl
than our heroine; but one who knew wrote of her after this time, in the
"Berwick and Kelso Warder:"--"It is indeed gratifying to state, that
amidst all the tumults of applause, Grace Darling never for a moment
forgot the modest dignity of conduct which became her sex and station.
The flattering testimonials of all kinds which were showered upon her,
never produced in her mind any feeling but a sense of wonder and
pleasure. She continued, notwithstanding the improvement of her
circumstances, to reside at the Longstone lighthouse with her father
and mother, finding, in her limited sphere of domestic duty on the
sea-girt islet, a more honourable and more lasting enjoyment than could
be found in the more crowded haunts of the mainland, and thus afforded,
by her conduct, the best proof that the liberality of the public had
not been unworthily bestowed."
A paper written in the "Scotsman" on the subject is exceedingly good,
and no doubt amazed and delighted Grace as much as those that were more
apparently eulogistic; for to a sensible, modest girl, too much praise
is more disagreeable than none at all.
"_The Grace Darling Mania_.--Never was poor girl in so fair a way of
being spoiled as Grace Darling. We were amongst the first to
acknowledge the credit due to this young damsel for her exertions at
the wreck of the 'Forfarshire;' but really we begin to have serious
apprehensions lest she herself should be whirled away by the tide of
public favour which has set in so strongly towards her. Truly, the
storm which roared and whistled over the Fern rocks on the night of her
achievement has awakened a pretty echo in the mainland. Not only have
large sums of money been collected throughout the country to reward the
little heroine, but various silver cups and medals have been presented
to her, both from private individuals and humane societies. Five
pounds, it is said, have been given by one person (though not to her)
for a lock of her hair, while the painter, the sculptor, and the poet,
have caught the mania, and endeavoured to give permanence to her
celebrity. She has even been represented on the London stage in the
person of Mrs. Yates, and some whispers were lately afloat of her
appearing in Batty's arena in _propria persona_. She is also, we
perceive, made the subject of a tale now in course of publication;
while a vessel lately launched at Sunderland has been called after her
name. In short, Grace Darling is the fashion. Dukes and Duchesses
have entertained her as their guest, and she has even been honoured and
rewarded by Royalty itself. What mortal girl could bear up against
such rewards--such flatteries? Without detracting from her really
praiseworthy conduct, there is, we think, in the sensation she has
created, a little touch of the romantic. Had Grace Darling been a
married woman, dwelling in some poor alley in an ordinary town, and
with no rarer or prettier an appellation than Smith, Brown, M'Tavish,
or Higginbottom, a greater deed would, perhaps, have won her less
favour. But a young woman--a sea-nymph--inhabiting a rock in the
ocean, and coming to the few survivors of the wreck, like a bird of
calm over the troubled waters--who, that has a beating pulse, could
resist! Grace Darling, too, is a name to take one's heart and one's
memory; and although 'a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,'
we cannot for all the pretty pleading of Juliet, read or speak about
roses without feeling something of their fragrance. If, previous to
that deed which has gilded her humble name, any honest fisher-lad ever
saw in Grace Darling more to admire than even the world has seen since,
he will win a true heart if he contrive to keep her affections. Those
who have accidentally risen are, in general, the least inclined to
stoop; and if she do not number suitors with Miss Burdett Coutts or
Queen Victoria herself, Malthus or Martineau, one, or both of them,
must answer for it. Meanwhile with Grace Darling we have no quarrel;
and if her modesty only outlive the honours heaped upon her, we shall
be the first to acknowledge that her courage has deserved them."
Many a laugh, we may be sure, had the lighthouse-family over such
articles, though there can be no doubt that the good sense of Grace
caused her to take advantage of every lesson taught to her, whether by
words of praise or blame. We cannot, perhaps, exalt her deed too
highly, but it should always be borne in mind, that she would have been
just as good a girl if the "Forfarshire" had never been wrecked on the
coast of the Farne Islands. Grace was heroic already, but the
catastrophe brought her qualities of courage, endurance, and humanity,
to the front. One feels glad to know that all the praise did not make
her other than the humble British girl, though few, perhaps, could pass
through such an ordeal of adulation unscathed. The flatteries had,
however, a ludicrous as well as a touching side, as may be seen from
the following extract. Hero-worship leads to the hoarding of many
things, including bark of trees, stones, mortar, old rags, and hair;
and it is little wonder if Grace found the latter tendency rather
inconvenient.
"Grace Darling's name is now as well known throughout the island as
Queen Anne's; and to tell people of the decease of the one is about as
necessary as to warn them of the living glory of the other. Grace is
the admired of all admirers, and far is it from us to wish her grace
diminished in men's eyes, or herself less a darling than she is at
present. But the enthusiasm of gratitude and idolatry is becoming
somewhat alarming. We know not how the persons who, principally by her
intrepidity, were saved from the wreck of the 'Forfarshire,' may feel
towards their 'good angel in the hour of fate,' but every body else
seems to think of her as one to whom they owe the life of some being
related to themselves by blood, and inestimably prized by affection.
The universal feeling in this case shows us how truly
'One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.'
"All feel individually grateful to Grace Darling; and not a stranger
that talks of her but knows her intimately. But, as we have said, the
expression of this feeling of love and reverence is assuming an awkward
character. It has taken, it appears, the shape or shapes of infinite
demands upon her generosity in a minor way--of countless and
incalculable requests addressed to her by admirers of heroism, whenever
stirred out of their arm chairs but to accommodate themselves, and
trumpeters of intrepidity who have fainted at the bare idea of getting
wet-footed, that she will be so exceedingly self-devoted and munificent
as to clip from her head a curl--just one--as a token by which her name
and nature may be identified and treasured up; just one ringlet--one
apiece, for upwards of ten thousand applicants scattered over various
parts of the kingdom, but all linked together by a common sentiment.
The last report is (we quote the newspapers) that Grace is nearly bald;
that lock after lock has gone, each finding its way into ring, brooch,
or locket, until
'The Darling of life's crew'
discovers, like Caesar, that a laurel crown may be worn for use as well
as ornament--may hide as well as adorn. Really, a lock at a time is an
extravagance--a hair should suffice; for if ever it could be said that
'Beauty draws us by a single hair,'
it may be said of the moral beauty of Grace Darling.
"It is impossible to guard ourselves against the tendencies to
enthusiastic devotion for the living life preserver, because the very
name is a provocative. Were two such words ever before combined to
form a name?--the one expressing the natural quality of the bearer of
it, and the other defining what her deeds have made her in the regard
of others."
Not only was Grace Darling herself likely to be made bald by the
request of her loving admirers, but those who belonged to her shared
the same inconvenience. One of her younger brothers was away at sea,
and did not know of his sister's fame until he came into the Thames.
No sooner, however, was his name heard than he had to answer a number
of questions. Did he know anything of the Longstone lighthouse? Had
he a sister? Was the great Grace Darling any relation to him? As soon
as it was known that he really belonged to the same family, he was
himself exalted into a hero of the second class, and people thronged
round to look at, admire, and cross-question him. The young fellow
bore it all very good-humouredly--in fact, he rather liked it. But
after a time his numerous and newly-found friends conceived the idea of
possessing a lock of the Darling hair, and the young man could not well
refuse so flattering a request. So one helped herself, and told her
friend, who told his friend, and so it went on; and the end was, that
young Darling, who possessed a curly head of hair, became completely,
and rather irregularly shorn.
We give two other extracts from papers that appeared at the time, or
soon after. The following is from the "Spectator:"--
"It is not often that heroines of real life possess the adventitious
attractions of a pretty name, or a charming person; but Grace Darling
has both. She would unquestionably have been loved and admired as
heartily had she been Dorothy Dobbs, with a wide mouth, snub nose, and
a squint; but it is pleasant to find coupled with a fine and generous
nature, a lovely face, and a name at once euphonious and cherishable.
Grace Darling! Poet or novelist need not desire one better fitted to
bestow on a paragon of womanhood; we would see it embalmed in a sonnet
by Wordsworth, or a lyric by Campbell; but it will live in our land's
language, even if not immortalised in song."
The "Sunderland Herald," of November 22nd, contained the following
interesting article on the Darlings:--
"Grace Darling, the heroine of the day, was born on the 24th of
November, 1815; consequently she will be twenty-three on Saturday, the
24th inst. She is rather short in stature, being only five feet two
and a half inches in height, but well proportioned. Her features are
admirably adapted for the skill of the painter, and equally so for the
chisel of the sculptor. She is modest and remarkably pleasant in her
manners, and perfectly free from the shy awkward gait of country girls
in general. And you will be surprised when I inform you, that there is
excellent accommodation to be met with at the Longstone lighthouse,
although it stands alone, upon a barren rock, five miles from the
mainland. The tower is very ingeniously constructed, and contains a
well-furnished sitting room, in which is a capital collection of
popular works, and three or four comfortable bedrooms. These, with an
abundance of good, wholesome, homely fare, together with the very
cheerful service of Grace and her parents, render a visit to the Farne
Islands a treat of no ordinary description. Grace was taught to read
and write by her father, together with seven of her brothers and
sisters; and their school-room was the lantern of the lighthouse.
"William Darling, the father of Grace, is only in the fifty-fourth year
of his age, though he looks much older His face reminds me of the late
Thomas Stothard, R.A., the painter of the Canterbury Pilgrimage, and
his person, of the venerable Earl Grey. He reads much, and is most
passionately fond of natural history.
"Mrs. Darling is a hale, comely old lady, bordering on threescore, and
may be found engaged three parts of the day at her spinning wheel. It
is true she assisted to make ready the boat at day-break, on the
morning of the melancholy wreck of the 'Forfarshire,' but her heart
failed when her husband and child pushed off; and, as the wave receded
from the rock on which she stood trembling, with tears she exclaimed,
'Oh, Grace, if your father is lost, I'll blame a' you for this
morning's work?' And who would censure the mother under such
circumstances, especially when the fact is known, that she was left
alone on the island to witness their struggles as they crossed a pass
between the Longstone rocks and those on which the surviving sufferers
of the ill-fated 'Forfarshire' were anxiously looking out for help?
The particulars of that noble deed have already been published, but I
happen to have a newspaper account of another heroic action by the same
family, which took place in the month of December, 1834, and was thus
noticed in the 'Berwick Advertiser':--
"On Saturday night, December 27th, about eleven o'clock, the sloop
'Autumn,' of Peterhead, coal-laden, ran upon the Naestone rock, outside
the Farne Islands, and immediately sunk; the master, in endeavouring to
get the boat launched, unfortunately went down with the sloop! The
other two men (being the whole of the crew), clung to the mast and
topmast, and as the tide receded, descended the ship's deck, and
finally, about four o'clock in the morning, the rock appeared, which
they got upon, and remained there till about eight o'clock, when they
were discovered by the lighthouse-keeper, Darling, who most
providentially, having his three sons with him spending their
Christmas, got out their boat, and got alongside the rock about nine
o'clock (half an hour before it was covered by the returning tide), and
with great exertion succeeded in getting a rope thrown to one of the
men, who, having lashed himself, was dragged through the sea to the
boat; the other poor fellow, having previously died upon the fatal
rock, was left there. With very great exertions Darling and his sons
gained the lighthouse, having broken two of their oars whilst
attempting to approach the rock; and thus crippled, they got a small
sail set, but the wind being against them, they had much difficulty in
regaining the island. Very great praise is due to Darling and his sons
for their great exertions--having run a considerable risk in
approaching the rock with a heavy sea. A signal gun upon each island
where the lighthouses are, would be of very great use in cases of
accidents of this sort, when assistance could be immediately had from
North Sunderland, Bamborough, or Holy Island--for had it not been for
the circumstance of Darling's sons being there, this poor fellow must
inevitably have perished."
We are sure that the birthday of the heroine referred to in the above
extracts was celebrated in many a home, and that hundreds of thousands
of people wished her many happy returns of the day, a wish which,
however, was not to be realised. But there can be no doubt that the
day was a most happy one to her; for it is not many who, looking back
upon a past year, can think of any good deed that deserves to stand
side by side with that of Grace Darling.
The following birthday lines were written for her by Mr. J. G. Grant,
of Sunderland:---
"Maid of the Isle, heroic Grace!
'Midst desert rocks and tempests thrown,
As though in sternest clime and place,
Where life and man have scarce a trace,
Maternal Nature would embrace
A heroine of her own!
"Methinks, while yet in cradled sleep,
She loved and destined thee to be
A dweller of the craggy steep,
A watcher of the stormy deep,
And bade its wild waves nurse and keep
Thy heart as strong and free.
"She bade thee draw a deep delight--
An influence kind--an impulse brave,
From every season in its flight,
From gentle Spring and Summer bright,
From golden Autumn, and the might
Of winter's wind and wave.
"By every aspect she could show,
In heaven above and earth below,
She bade thy spirit statelier grow,
And 'champion human fears!'
Courage and love she bade thee know,
And with the noblest passions glow,
And melt with noblest tears!
"Like Ocean's daughter--Peril's bride--
She nurs'd thee by the roaring tide,
The playmate of its storms,
And bade thee be in soul allied
With moral grandeur, strength and pride,
To her thy monitress and guide
In all her moods and forms.
"To thee she said, in accents bland,
'These desert rocks and wild sea-land
Shall be as dear a father-land
As ever yet was dearest;
'Midst all of lone, and stern, and grand,
Thy heart shall burn, thy soul expand,
And thou shall know and understand
_My_ voice in all thou hearest
"'Day's radiant arch--night's cloudy dome,
Alike shall see thee fearless roam,
And life to thee shall dear become,
And thou its humblest forms shall blend
With the sweet charities of home,
S'en the poor sea-bird on the foam
Shalt be to thee a friend!'
"This nature wills; her will avails,
Thy matchless deed may show.
Thy lofty heart that did not quail
When raged on high the stormy gale,
And ocean rag'd below.
A meed of glory shall not fail!
Grace Darling's is the noblest tale
That e'er made woman's cheeks look pale,
Or man's with envy glow!
"Heroic girl! these volumes take,
For proudest admiration's sake;
Proud volumes so possess'd!
And may my own brave Constance make
A kindred admiration wake
In thy congenial breast!
"And wouldst thou know, 'heart-honoured maid!
How thrice a thousand-fold repaid
My humble gift may be?
With cheerful hand and heart unbraid
The band thy modest brow that shades,
And send, with three kind words convey'd,
One little tress to me!
"Be this a birthday doubly bless'd!
Joy to thine aged mother's breast!
And long, caressing and caress'd,
May her maternal kiss,
While peaceful years melt calm away,
Make to thy heart each natal day
As joyous e'en as this!
"Brave daughter of a sire as brave
As ever risked a surging grave,
In tides of stormiest swell!
Thou that didst share that fearful strife,
All joy be to thee, maid or wife!
And may'st thou brave the storms of life
As fearlessly and well."
It may be interesting to the reader to know that the boat which carried
Grace Darling and her father to the "Forfarshire," is probably in
existence at the present day, It came into the possession of Mr. George
Darling, of North Sunderland, who was the brother of Grace; and he took
great care of it--this boat, with a history of which so many people had
thought with tears in their eyes! He had often been solicited to sell
it, and at last did so, to Major Joicey, of Stocksfield-on-Tyne.
Pieces of this boat have come in for the affection usually bestowed on
interesting relics, for some planks that were taken out for repairs
have been preserved as great treasures, and snuff-boxes and other
articles have been made from them. But nothing is needed to keep in
the hearts of the people of our own and other lands the memory of the
gallant deed. Grace Darling is loved still, and we do not forget our
beloved ones.
These records give some idea of the enthusiasm which had been awakened
by the splendid deed which has been related. Cold-hearted critics
there were, no doubt, who, never having done an unselfish action in
their lives, would not believe in Grace Darling's disinterestedness,
and buttoned their pockets closely when asked to contribute towards the
testimonial which was presented to her. But these were very few. The
greater number who heard of the heroine's name were generous in their
praise, so that her name became a household word among them, and they
were right, for they learned the blessedness of giving.