CHAPTER V.

HIS BOLD ADVENTURES ON THE WATER.

[Sidenote: SWIMMING ADVOCATED.]

That swimming is a noble and useful art, deserving the best attention of

all classes of the community, is a fact few will dispute. 'Swimming,'

says Locke, 'ought to form part of every boy's education!' It is an art

that is easily acquired; it is healthy and pleasurable as an exercise,

being highly favourable to muscular development, agility of motion, and

symmetry of form; and it is of inconceivable benefit as the means of

preserving or saving life in seasons of peril, when death would

otherwise prove inevitable. Mr. Ellerthorpe early became an accomplished

swimmer; he often fell overboard, and but for his skill in the art under

consideration he would have been drowned. He also enjoyed the happiness

of having saved upwards of forty persons, who, but for his efforts must,

to all human appearance, have perished.

To a maratime nation like ours, with a rugged and dangerous coast-line

of two thousand miles, indented by harbours, few and far from each

other, and with a sea-faring population of half a million, it seems as

necessary that the rising generation should learn to swim as that they

should be taught the most common exercises of youth. And yet 'this

natatory art' is but little cultivated amongst us. On the Continent, and

among foreigners generally, swimming is practised and encouraged far

more than it is in England. In the Normal Swimming school of Denmark,

some thirty years ago, there were educated 105 masters destined to teach

the art throughout the kingdom. In France, Vienna, Copenhagen,

Stockholm, Berne, Amsterdam, &c., similar means were adopted, and very

few persons in those countries are entirely destitute of a knowledge of

the art. But so generally is this department of juvenile training

neglected by us as a people, that _only one in every ten who gain their

livelihood on the water_ are able to swim.

[Sidenote: HULL SWIMMING CLUB.]

Mr. Ellerthorpe, in a characteristic letter, says: 'I think no

schoolmaster should regard the education of his scholars complete unless

he has taught them to swim. That art is of service when everything else

is useless. I once heard of a professor who was being ferried across a

river by a boatman, who was no scholar. So the professor said, "Can you

write, my man?" "No, Sir," said the boatman. "Then you have lost one

third of your life," said the professor. "Can you read?" again asked he

of the boatman. "No," replied the latter, "I can't read." "Then you have

lost the half of your life," said the professor. Now came the boatman's

turn. "Can you swim?" said the boatman to the professor. "No," was his

reply. "Then," said the boatman, "you have lost the whole of your life,

for the boat is sinking and you'll be drowned." Now, Sir, I think that

if those fathers who spend so much money on the intellectual education

of their children, would devote but a small portion of it to securing

for them a knowledge of the art of swimming, they would confer a great

blessing on those children, and also on society at large. I would have

every one learn to swim females as well as males; for many of both sexes

come under my notice every year who are drowned, but who, with a little

skill in swimming, might have been saved. Not fewer than forty men and

boys were lost from the Hull Smacks alone during the year 1866, of whom

twenty per cent, might have been saved had they been able to swim.'

[Sidenote: HE LEARNS TO SWIM.]

Mr. Ellerthorpe was, for many years, Master of the 'Hull Swimming Club,'

and also of 'The College Youth's Swimming Club,' and his whole life was

a practical lesson on the value of the art of swimming. He contended

that the youths of Hull ought to be taught this art, and pleaded that a

sheet of water which had been waste and unproductive for twenty years

should be transformed into a swimming bath. The local papers favoured

the scheme, and Alderman Dennison, moved in the Town Council, that £350

should be devoted to this object, which was carried by a majority. The

late Titus Salt, Esq., who had given £5,000 to the 'Sailor's Orphan

Home,' said at the time, 'I think _your corporation ought to make the

swimming bath_ alluded to in the enclosed paper; _do ask them_.' 'The

private individual who gives his _fifty_ hundreds to a particular

Institution,' to use the words of the _Hull and Eastern Counties'

Herald, Oct. 10th_, 1857, 'has surely a right to express an opinion that

the municipal corporation ought to grant _three_ hundreds, if by so

doing the public weal would be provided. If the voice of such a man is

to be disregarded, then it may truly be said that our good old town has

fallen far below the exalted position it occupied when it produced its

Wilberforce and its Marvel.'

For upwards of forty years Mr. Ellerthorpe was known as a fearless

swimmer and diver, and during that period he saved no fewer than forty

lives by his daring intrepidity. In his boyhood, he, to use his own

expression, '_felt quite at home in the water_,' and betook himself to

it as natively and instinctively as the swan to the water or the lark to

the sky. 'This art,' to use the words of an admirable article in the

_Shipwrecked Mariners' Magazine_ for October, 1862, 'he has cultivated

so successfully that in scores of instances he has been able to employ

it for the salvation of life and property. Perhaps the history of no

other living person more fully displays the value of this art than John

Ellerthorpe. Joined with courage, promptitude, and steady

self-possession, it has enabled him repeatedly to preserve his own life,

and what is far more worthy of record, to save not fewer than

thirty-nine of his fellow creatures, who, humanly speaking, must

otherwise have met with a watery grave.'

[Sidenote: HIS RECKLESS DARING.]

It is but right to state that, in the early period of his history, a

thoughtless disregard of his own life, and an overweening confidence in

his ability to swim almost any length, and amid circumstances of great

peril, often led him to deeds of 'reckless daring,' which in riper years

he would have trembled to attempt. Respecting most of the following

circumstances he says, 'I look upon those perilous adventures as so many

foolish and wicked temptings of Providence. I have often wondered I was

not drowned, and attribute my preservation to the wonder-working

providence of God, who has so often 'redeemed my life from destruction,

and crowned me with loving kindness and tender mercies.'

And certainly we should remember that heroism is one thing, reckless

daring another. Two or three instances will illustrate this. A few years

ago Blondin, for the sake of money, jeopardized his life at the Crystal

Palace, by walking blindfolded on a tight-rope, and holding in his hand

a balancing pole. In so doing he was foolhardy, but not heroic. But a

certain Frenchman, at Alencon, walked on one occasion on a rope over

some burning beams into a burning house, otherwise inaccessible, and

succeeded in saving six persons. This was the act of a true hero. When

Mr. Worthington, the 'professional diver,' plunged into the water and

saved six persons from drowning, who, but for his skill and dexterity as

a swimmer, would certainly have met with a watery grave, he acted the

part of a 'hero;' but when, the other day, he made a series of nine

'terrific plunges' from the Chain Pier at Brighton--a height of about

one hundred and twenty feet--merely to gratify sensational sightseers,

or to put a few shillings into his own pocket, he acted the part of a

foolhardy man. Can we wonder that he was within an ace of losing his

life in this mad exploit? And when John Ellerthorpe dived to the bottom

of 'Clarke's Bit,' to gratify a number of young men who had 'more money

than wit,' and struggled in the water with a bag of coals on his back,

he put himself on a par with those men who place their lives in imminent

danger by dancing on ropes, swinging on cords, tying themselves into

knots like a beast, or crawling on ceilings like some creeping thing!

But when he used his skill to save his fellow creatures, he was a true

hero, and was justified in perilling his own life, considering that by

so doing the safety of others might be secured.

We shall close this chapter by recording a few of his deeds of reckless

daring.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: JOHN'S FIRST ATTEMPT AT SWIMMING.]

'My first attempt at swimming took place at Hessle, when I was about

twelve years of age. There was a large drain used for the purpose of

receiving the water from both the sea and land. My father managed the

sluice, which was used for excluding, retaining, and regulating the flow

of water into this drain. It was a first rate place for lads to bathe

in, and I have sometimes bathed in it ten times a day; indeed, I regret

to say, I spent many days there when I ought to have been at school. I

soon got to swim in this drain, but durst not venture into the harbour.

But one day I accidentally set my dirty feet upon the shirt of a boy who

was much older and bigger than myself, and in a rage he took me up in

his arms and threw me into the harbour. I soon felt safe there, nor did

I leave the harbour till I had crossed and recrossed it thirty-two

times. The next day I swam the whole length of the harbour twice, and

from that day I began to match myself with expert swimmers, nor did I

fear swimming with the best of them. Some other lads were as venturesome

as myself, and we used to go up the Humber with the tides, for several

miles at once. I remember on one occasion it blew a strong gale of wind

from S.W., several vessels sank in the Humber, and a number of boats

broke adrift, while a heavy sea was running: I stripped and swam to one

of the boats, got into her, and brought her to land, for which act the

master of the boat gave me five shillings. During the same gale a keel

came ashore at Hessle; I stripped and swam to her and brought a rope on

shore, by the assistance of which, two men, a woman, and two children

escaped from the vessel. The tide was receding at the time, so that they

were enabled, with the assistance of the rope, to walk ashore. There are

several old men living now who well remember this circumstance.

[Sidenote: SWIMS ACROSS THE HUMBER.]

'Soon after this occurrence, I remember one Saturday afternoon, going

with some other boys of my own age, and swimming across the Humber, a

distance of two miles. We started from Swanland Fields (which was then

enclosed), Yorkshire, and landed at the Old Warp, Lincolnshire. Here we

had a long run and a good play, and then we recrossed the Humber. But in

doing so we were carried up as far as Ferriby Sluice, and had to run

back to where we had left our clothes in charge of some lads, but when

we got there the lads had gone, and we didn't know what to do. We sought

for our clothes a full hour, when a man, in the employ of Mr. Pease told

us that the lads had put them under some bushes, where we at last found

them. We were in the water four hours. This was an act of great

imprudence.

'On another occasion myself and some other lads played truant from

school, and went towards the Humber to bathe, but the schoolmaster, Mr.

Peacock, followed us closely. He ran and I ran, and I had just time to

throw off my clothes and leap into the water, when he got to the bank.

He was afraid I should be drowned, and called out 'If you will come back

I won't tell your father and mother.' But I refused to return, for at

that time I felt no fear in doing what I durst not have attempted when I

got older.

[Sidenote: SWIMS IN HESSLE HARBOUR.]

'On several occasions some young gentlemen, who were scholars at Hessle

boarding school, got me to go and bathe with them. They had plenty of

money, and I had none; and as they offered to pay me, I was glad to go

with them. One day while we were bathing, the eldest son of Mr.

Earnshaw, of Hessle, had a narrow escape from drowning. I was a long way

from him at the time, but I did all I could to reach and rescue him. He

was very ill for some days, and the doctor forbade him bathing for a

long time to come. This deterred us from bathing for awhile, but we soon

forgot it. We agreed to have a swimming match, and the boy that swam the

farthest was to have _sixpence_. We started at three o'clock in the

afternoon from the third jetty below Hessle harbour, and went up with

the tide. One of the boys got the lead of me and I could not overtake

him until we got opposite Cliffe Mill, about a mile and a half from

where we started. He then began to fag, while I felt as brisk as a lark

and fresher than when I began. I soon took the lead, and when I got to

Ferriby Lane-end, I lost my mate altogether. However, I knew he was a

capital swimmer, and I felt afraid lest he should turn up again, so I

swam as far as Melton brickyard, and fairly won the prize. I had swam

about seven miles, and believe I could have swam back without landing.

[Sidenote: HIS EXPLOITS ON THE WATER.]

'When I was about fifteen years of age a steam packet came to Hessle,

bringing a number of swimmers from Hull. Soon alter their arrival a lad

came running to me and said, "Jack, there's some of those Hull chaps

bathing, and they say they can beat thee." I didn't like that; and when

I got to them, a young gentleman said, pointing to me, "Here is a lad

that shall swim you for what you like." One of them said, "Is he that

Ellerthorpe of Hessle?" "No matter who he is," replied the young man,

"I'll back him for a sovereign," when one of the young gentlemen called

out, "It is Jack Ellerthorpe, I won't have aught to do with him, for he

can go as fast feet foremost as I can with my hands foremost, he's a

first-rate swimmer." By this time I was stripped, and at once plunged

into the river. I crept on my hands and knees on the water, and then

swam backwards and forwards with my feet foremost, and not one among

them could swim with me. I showed them the "porpoise race," which

consisted in disappearing under the water, and then coming "bobbing" up

suddenly, at very unlikely spots. I then took a knife and cut my

toe-nails in the water. The young gents were greatly delighted, and

afterwards they would have matched me to swim anybody, to any distance.

And I believe that at that time I could have swam almost any length; for

after I had swam two or three miles my spirits seemed to rise, and my

strength increased. When other lads seemed thoroughly beaten out, I was

coming to my best, and the longer I remained in the water the easier and

faster I could swim.

[Sidenote: SWIMS TO BARROW.]

'It will be remembered by some who will read these pages, that about ...

years ago a Mr. Burton was returned, as a member of Parliament for

Beverley. He was a wild, drunken, half-crazy fellow, and I remember he

came to Hessle about two o'clock one afternoon, and drove full gallop,

with postillions, up to my father's house. At that time my father was

ferryman, and Mr. Burton wanted a boat to take him to Barton. "But,"

said my father, "there is no water," when the Member of Parliament said,

"Won't money make the boat swim?" "I'm afraid not," was my father's

reply. At that time, however, there was a ballast lighter at Cliffe, and

my father and I went to see if we could borrow the lighter's boat; we

succeeded, and as it was a great distance from the water (the tide being

low), my father asked the Cliffe men to help in launching it, when about

thirty of them came to his assistance. Mr. Burton left a guinea to be

spent in drink for the men. We then started in the boat, and took Mr.

Burton to Barrow, there being no _usable_ jetty at Barton. I was to run

to Barton for a post-chaise, but before we got to the shore the boat ran

aground, so out of the boat I jumped, and away I ran, until I came to a

pool of water, about twelve feet deep. Almost mad with excitement, I

sprang into it, and small as I was, soon crossed it and was ashore. Mr.

Burton saw me in the water, and he was afraid I should be drowned, and

when I returned with the chaise he gave me a sovereign, the first I ever

had, so you may be sure I was mightily pleased. I found my father and

the men drunk, and they gave me some rum. On being asked, "What Mr.

Burton had given me," I evaded the question by saying "A shilling," for

I was of opinion that if my father had known I had got so much as I had,

he would have taken most of it to spend in drink. So I hastened home and

gave the sovereign to my mother, and we were both highly delighted to

possess so large a sum of money.

'The following amusing circumstance took place in 1836-7, when I

belonged to the Barton and Hessle packet. One day we had put on board

the "tow boat" a great number of fat beasts, belonging, if I remember

rightly, to Mr. Wood, of South Dalton. The "tow boat" was attached to

the steamer by a large thick rope. We had not got far from Barton when

the boat capsized, and we were in an awful mess. The boat soon filled

with water; some of the beasts swam one way and some another, while

several got entangled in the rails attached to the boat's side, and were

every moment in danger of breaking their legs. So seizing an axe I

jumped into the water and cut away the rails, and then went in pursuit

of the oxen, heading them round in the water and causing them, by shouts

and gestures, to swim for the land. Most of them were driven back to

Barton and landed safely, others swam across the Humber and were landed

at Hessle. I was up to my chest in water and mud for nearly three hours

swimming backwards and forwards after the beasts; sometimes I had hold

of their tails, and anon had to meet them and turn them towards the

shore. There are lots of people now living at Barton who saw the affray,

and who could describe it much better than I have done.

[Sidenote: JOHN AND THE BEASTS.]

'A similar incident took place in 1844. I was captain of a ferry-boat

plying between Winteringham and Brough. One Sabbath-day I was taking a

load of beasts from Brough to Winteringham, and when we had got about

half way across the Humber, the boat upset, and the beasts were thrown

into the water. I was afraid they all would be drowned, and, in spite of

all I could do, some of them were. I jumped overboard and drove some of

them back to Brough, while others swam to the Lincolnshire side of the

river. I was swimming about after the beasts for five hours, chasing

them backwards and forwards, turning them this way and that, and doing

what nobody but myself would have done. At length, several men came to

our assistance, and when we had got the poor animals out of the water,

we hastened to the public-house at the harbour-side, and got drunk. I

kept my wet clothes on until they dried on my back. This was one of the

most wretched days of my life. My anxiety about the beasts, the

exhaustion brought on by my efforts to get them safe to land, and the

sense of misery and degradation I felt when I thought of the plight I

was found in on the blessed Sabbath-day, I shall never forget.

'On one occasion I was helping to load the "Magna Charter," and being

half drunk, I fell into Hull harbour, with upwards of eight stones of

coal on my back, but through foolish bravado I refused to let the bag

drop into the water. After being in the water several minutes, I swam

to the landing with the coals on my back, amid the deafening shouts of

scores of spectators. I look back on this act of temerity with feelings

of shame and unmixed regret.'

[Sidenote: HE IS CAST OVERBOARD.]

When sailing from Hull to Barton, one night in the year 1842, John was

thrown overboard. The night was dark, the wind was blowing a heavy gale

from the west, and every moment the spring-tide, then at its height,

carried him further from the packet, which soon became unmanageable. The

boat was launched, but the engineer, who had charge of it, became

greatly agitated and much alarmed, and uttered the most piteous cries.

'I felt more for him than I did for myself,' says John, 'and though one

moment lost in the trough of the sea, and the next on the crest of the

billows, now near the boat and again fifty yards from it, I cried out,

'Scull away. Bob, scull away, thou'll soon be at me.' After being in the

water half-an-hour I reached the boat in safety. All this time I had on

the following garments, made of very stout pilot-cloth: a pair of

trousers, a double-breasted waistcoat, a surtout coat, and a heavy great

coat, which came down to my ancles, a thick shawl round my neck, and a

new pair of Wellington boots on my feet. I had in my pockets the

following sums of money: £25 in bank notes; 25 sovereigns; £4 16s. 6d.

in silver, and 8d. in coppers; also a tobacco-box, a large pocket knife,

and a silver watch and guard. I made an attempt to throw off some of my

clothes, but the thought of losing another man's money checked me.

Besides, the suit of clothes I had on was bran-new, and being a poor

man, and only just earning a livelihood, I could not brook the thought

of having to get a new "rigging." When a wave carried me a great way

from the boat, I unbuttoned my coat and prepared to throw it off, that I

might more easily swim to land. And when it seemed certain I should have

to make this attempt, I felt for my knife, that I might cut off my

boots, and I believe I could have done it; but, after a desperate

effort, I approached within a few yards of the boat, when I again

buttoned my coat. I felt confident I could have reached the shore--a

distance of one mile--had I been compelled to make the trial. My

Wellington boots had nearly cost me my life, as they were heavy and

difficult to swim in, and I never wore a pair after this fearful night.'

[Sidenote: HIS SKILL AS A DIVER.]

There is another department of the art now under consideration, in which

our friend greatly excelled, namely, that of diving. There are few

divers who do not feel a kind of exultation in their power over the

element, and in their ability to move under the surface of the water

with ease and pleasure. Half a century ago, diving was a difficult and

dangerous art, demanding great skill and endurance; but modern science

has given the professional diver an almost perfect accoutrement, by

means of which he can literally walk down to the bottom of the sea, and

telegraph for as much air as he requires. Hence, it has been utterly

deprived of all dramatic element. Properly managed, the thing is as easy

as going up in a balloon, or going down a coal pit; but our friend

excelled in 'real naked diving.'

[Sidenote: HE DIVES IN 'CLARK'S BIT.']

His first attempt at fetching anything from under water took place when

he was about sixteen years of age. The vessel in which he then sailed

was being painted at 'Clark's Bit,' Castleford, when John accidentally

let his brush fall overboard, and it sank to the bottom. The Captain was

furious for about an hour, when, having handed the lad another brush, he

went into the town. John could not brook the hour's grumbling to which

he had been subjected, and hence, scarcely had the Master left the

vessel, when he threw off his clothes and dived to the bottom of the

'Bit,' a depth of twenty-six feet, and brought up the brush. He hastily

put on his clothes, and when the Master returned, John held up the

brush, and with that comical twinkle of the eye and humorous expression

of the countenance, so common with sailors, said, 'Here's your brush.

Sir.' 'What brush?' asked the Master. 'The brush I lost overboard an

hour ago,' said John. 'That's a lie.' replied the Master, 'how could you

get it?' 'I dived to the bottom and brought it up,' was the lad's

response. Now Clark's Bit, in those days, was supposed to be of fabulous

depth; indeed, the Master, using a common expression, said, 'You can't

have fetched it up from the bottom, for there is no bottom to Clark's

Bit.' John was unabashed by this charge of falsehood, and with honesty

beaming in every feature of his face, he answered with untrembling

tongue, as he handed the brush to the Master, 'Throw it in again. Sir,

and I'll fetch it up.' The Master refused to test the lad's honesty at

the risk of losing his brush. However, several witnesses came forward

and declared they had seen him plunge into the water and bring up the

brush. From that time John was famous in the neighbourhood, as a great

diver.

'At the time of this occurrence,' he writes, 'a number of young

gentlemen were being taught, at a school at Castleford, by the Rev. Mr.

Barnes. They had plenty of money, and I had little enough, and they

would often, for the sake of seeing me dive to the bottom of the "Bit,"

throw in a shilling, and sometimes half-a-crown. To gratify them, and

for the sake of money, I often dived to the bottom, and never, that I

remember, without bringing up the money. I got at last that I would not

go down for less than a shilling, and I have sometimes got as much as

five shillings a day. I have dived to the bottom of Clark's Bit hundreds

of times, and there are numbers of people at Castleford, at the present

day (1868), who recollect these youthful exploits, which took place

upwards of forty years ago. And I may add that, I have often had the

impression that but for that paint-brush I should never have been the

diver I afterwards became. God overruled these foolish acts, for good,

and what I did for mere pleasure and gain, prepared me to rescue

property and human life in after years.'

[Sidenote: HE DIVES INTO A SUNKEN VESSEL.]

We will mention one instance of his prowess in saving property, which is

well worthy of being recorded. 'The barque "Mulgrave Castle," says the

writer of the article in the _Shipwrecked Mariners' Magazine_, 'laden

with timber from the Baltic, was waterlogged in the Humber; there was in

the cabin of the vessel a small box containing money and papers which

the captain was anxious, if possible, to secure. Ellerthorpe dived into

the cabin, groped his way round it, and after two or three attempts

succeeded in bringing up the box and its contents.' This was in the year

1835. The writer of this sketch received the fact from an eye witness.

The Hero of the Humber; Or, The History of the Late Mr. John Ellerthorpe · 第 5 / 10 章