GRACE DARLING
The coast of Northumberland in England is rocky and severe with lofty
flint-ledged cliffs where great waves thunder, hurling the white foam
high into the air. It is a coast that is feared by vessels and many
wrecks have taken place there. As is usual in such a locality it is the
home of brave fishermen and daring boatmen who have many thrilling
rescues to remember and many stormy encounters with the utmost fury of
the sea. But of all the tales of daring that are talked of by the
fisher folk, the bravest of all was performed by a girl whose name was
Grace Darling,--a name that now is known not only in the places where
she lived but all over the world.
Grace Horsley Darling was the daughter of a lighthouse keeper named
William Darling, who tended a light on one of the Farne Islands as his
father had done before him. Grace, who was the seventh of nine
children, was born in 1815, in Bamborough, and when she was a little
girl of eleven years her father was given charge of the new light on
Longstone Rock, which was one of a series of dangerous reefs where no
vessel ever built could live when a gale was blowing.
The highest part of Longstone Rock was only four feet above the surface
of the sea, and near at hand were twenty-three other reefs or islands,
between which the ocean tides ran in curious currents and eddys, and
where the great rollers came racing in with a tremendous roaring to
burst upon the base of the lighthouse and throw the spray high above
the light itself. It was a wild spot, even in calm weather, but when a
storm blew it became terrible. Then all communication with the mainland
was cut off, and for days at a time the only news that the outside
world had from the lonely lighthouse keeper was the yellow beam of the
lantern that shone from the top of the tower across the desolate
expanse of ugly rocks and roaring waters, where any ship that chanced
to be entrapped was caught in the grip of strange currents and pounded
into matchwood by the breakers.
Grace did not find the life at the lighthouse unpleasant. Her father
was an intelligent and kind-hearted man who gave an eye to her
education himself, and taught her how to read and write. He was also
considered the best boatman on the whole Northumberland coast--the
bravest and most skilful, and it was partly due to his reputation in
these respects that he was made the keeper of the new light on the
Longstone with a large increase in pay and a comfortable home for his
family--for the interior of the lighthouse held several large and
pleasant rooms where the Darlings lived. All of his elder children had
gone off to make their living, and William Darling lived with his wife
and his daughter Grace, who spent her time in reading, helping her
mother with the housework, and, when it was calm, wandering over the
rocks observing the gulls, the sea weeds and the strange sea creatures
that the ocean brought to the surface or that crawled and swam among
the more sheltered rock pools.
But the confinement of the life in the lighthouse was not good for the
growing girl, and Grace never was strong and robust as would be
expected from the daughter of fishermen. Nor was she handsome. But she
possessed a kindly and winning nature, and, as will be seen, the
ability to rise to heights of greatness when necessity called on her to
do so.
When Grace was a young woman of twenty-three a terrible storm burst
suddenly upon the coast and in the twinkling of an eye the reefs about
the lighthouse were a sea of churning foam, while the great waves
racing in from the ocean thundered so mightily at its base that it
seemed as though they must tear it from its foundations and sweep it
away.
A short time before this gale broke, the steamer _Forfarshire_ had
sailed from Hull for Dundee in Scotland. She was commanded by a captain
named John Humble and had aboard all told about sixty-three persons,
including the passengers and crew. She was a fine new steamer, well and
strongly built, but she had put to sea with her boilers in poor
condition, and it had been intended to give them a thorough overhauling
in Dundee.
When the steamer was off Flamborough Head the boilers commenced to
leak, and the ship's fires were extinguished. They were rekindled and
the leak repaired, but just as the _Forfarshire_ was off the Farne
Islands the gale broke with great fury. While pitching in the heavy
seas the boilers leaked terribly, the fires were again put out and the
ship became unmanageable. Sails were hoisted, but were torn to ribbons
by the wind. With no propelling power the _Forfarshire_ rolled helpless
in the trough of the sea, and was swiftly borne toward the rocks. Fog
and rain made it impossible for the sailors to see until they were in
the teeth of the breakers, and then the beam of the lighthouse showed
them the wild rocks only a short distance away.
Nothing could save them from destruction. With a crash the steamer
drove on the Harcars rocks and remained there, the seas breaking
completely over it. Some of the crew launched a boat and escaped,
deserting their captain, the passengers and the ship. The rest clung to
what supports they could find and held on expecting instant death.
A wave, larger than the rest, picked up the _Forfarshire_ bodily and
drove it down again upon the rocks, breaking it in two. The after half
of the vessel was swept away by the seas with many passengers and the
captain and his wife. All were lost. On the forward part of the ship
about twelve wretched persons remained in most desperate plight, the
seas breaking over them and threatening to engulf the remaining portion
of the vessel.
When day broke the wreck could be seen from the mainland, but the
misery of the unfortunate persons who survived was even more plain to
William Darling and his family. Grace begged her father to launch a
boat and go to their assistance, but Darling, brave sailor as he was,
knew that there was little or no chance of his ever reaching the doomed
ship, and shook his head. Then Grace began to plead with her father,
telling him it would be better for him to lose his life than to pass by
people in such distress, and that she herself would go with him and
bear a hand at the oars. Darling was no coward, and the prayers and
entreaties of his daughter won the day. He decided to risk launching a
boat from the lighthouse.
With Mrs. Darling to help them in launching their boat, Grace and her
father put forth from the lighthouse, running their boat into the sea
in the lee of the rocks, and pulling strongly for the wreck. Father and
daughter both labored at the oars, unable to speak on account of the
roar of the sea and wind, and blinded by the spray that whirled over
them. Their boat was tossed like a shuttlecock in the great waves, and
they knew that unless the shipwrecked persons could aid them it would
be impossible to return to the lighthouse. They must succeed or die,
and their chance of success was small.
Little by little they drew near the wreck. By this time the tide had
ebbed sufficiently for the survivors to leave the ship and stand on the
slippery rocks, but already some of them had succumbed and the rest
would certainly be washed away and drowned at returning high water. As
the rescuers drew near the reef, Darling leaped ashore, and Grace kept
the frail rowboat from dashing itself to pieces against the rocks.
Then followed the difficult task of getting the survivors into the
boat. One after one waded out as far as he dared and was pulled over
the gunwale. When the last person was aboard Darling clambered back,
and with new hands at the oars the boat was rowed back to the
lighthouse--a trip that required great strength and much time for the
current was against them. And when the light was reached, the
shipwrecked people were soon made comfortable and cared for by Grace
and Mrs. Darling, and nine lives were thus saved by the determination
of a single girl.
In the meantime, and after the gale had abated considerably, a boat
full of fishermen put out from the shore at a place called North
Sunderland and after nearly being swamped in the high seas succeeded in
drawing near the wreck. They saw there was no living thing left aboard,
and not daring to return to the mainland in the sea then running
succeeded in reaching the lighthouse. Among them was Grace's brother,
Brooks Darling, and the heroism of his achievement and that of the
other fishermen was only exceeded by the marvelous feat of the girl
herself and of her father. In the course of a few days the fishermen
succeeded in returning to the shore, taking with them the news.
All England rang with the fame of Grace's exploit, and letters and
gifts poured in from every side. Scores of people visited the
lighthouse. Grace was feted and admired, and a public subscription in
her benefit resulted in a gift of seven hundred pounds, or about
thirty-five hundred dollars of our money. She also received four
medals, and a large sum of money in private gifts.
Grace and her family took their new prominence with great good sense
and modesty, and disliked the publicity which came to them. They were
astonished at the commotion their exploit had caused, for to them it
appeared little more than a part of the day's work that duty required
them to perform.
But Grace did not live long after her exploit. Her confined life at the
lighthouse and the exposure she underwent there resulted in the disease
of consumption from which she rapidly wasted away. In spite of the best
medical aid she steadily drooped, and two years after she had done her
brave deed she died in the town of Bamborough where she had been born.
Again a subscription was collected and a monument was erected in her
honor. Her father and mother lived to a ripe old age, reaping benefits
from the money that Grace had left them. Perhaps some of their
descendants are still tending the light at the present day, but at all
events the name of the Darlings has been made immortal by the bravery
of this girl.