SPIRITED AND GALLANT EXPLOITS.

LIVES PRESERVED BY NAVAL MEN.

HEROISM OF LIEUT. CHRISTOPHER, AND PRESENCE OF MIND OF JAMES MILES.

The following account was given me verbally, some time ago, by Captain Castle, R.N.; but as I made a note of it at the time, and have the report of the Royal Humane Society to refer to, I can answer for its correctness in all particulars. The conduct of Lieut. Christopher and the boat's crew who volunteered, at the great risk of their own lives, to attempt the preservation of the life of a fellow-creature, was very noble; but I confess I was struck at the time with the extraordinary presence of mind and coolness displayed, under the most trying of all circumstances, by the hero of my tale.

I shall give the story in Captain Castle's own words, as nearly as I can recollect them, and I feel very sure he will vouch for its general correctness:—

"In the year 1837 I commanded H.M.S. 'Pylades,' on the East India station. We were on our return home, by the way of the Cape of Good Hope, when, on the 8th of May of that year, we were off Cape L'Agullus. It was blowing a heavy gale of wind, with a tremendous sea running, such a sea as one rarely meets with anywhere but off the Cape; when, just at nightfall, as we were taking another reef in the topsails, a fine young seaman, a mizen-topman, James Miles by name, fell from the mizen-topsail-yard, and away he went overboard. In his descent he came across the chain-span of the weather-quarter davits, and with such force that he actually broke it. I could scarcely have supposed that he would have escaped being killed in his fall, but as the ship flew away from him, he was seen rising on the crest of a foaming wave, apparently unhurt. The life-buoy was let go as soon as possible, but by that time the ship had already got a considerable distance from him, and should he be able to reach it, even then I felt that the prospect of saving him was small indeed, as I had no hope, should we find him, of being able to pick him out of that troubled sea; and I could scarcely expect that even a boat could swim to go to his rescue, should I determine to lower one. I was very doubtful as to what was my duty. I might, by allowing a boat to be lowered, sacrifice the lives of the officer and crew who would, I was very certain, at all events volunteer to man her. It was a moment of intense anxiety. I instantly, however, wore the ship round, and while we stood towards the spot, as far as we could guess, where the poor fellow had fallen, the thoughts I have mentioned passed through my mind. The sad loss of the gallant Lieut. Gore and a whole boat's crew, a short time before, about the same locality, was present to my thoughts. To add to the chances of our not finding the man, it was now growing rapidly dusk. As we reached the spot, every eye on board was straining through the gloom to discern the object of our search, but neither Miles nor the life-buoy were to be seen. Still, I could not bring myself to leave him to one of the most dreadful of fates. He was a good swimmer, and those who knew him best asserted that he would swim to the last. For my part, I almost hoped that the poor fellow had been stunned, and would thus have sunk at once, and been saved the agony of despair he must be feeling were he still alive. Of one thing I felt sure, from the course we had steered, that we were close to the spot where he had fallen. Anxiously we waited—minute after minute passed by—still no sound was heard; not a speck could be seen to indicate his position. At last half an hour had passed by. The strongest man alive could not support himself in such a sea as this for so long, I feared. Miles must long before this have sunk, unless he could have got hold of the life-buoy, and of that I had no hope. I looked at my watch by the light of the binnacle-lamp. 'It is hopeless,' I thought, 'we must give the poor fellow up.' When I had come to this melancholy resolve, I issued the orders for wearing ship, in somewhat a louder voice than usual, as under the circumstances was natural, to stifle my own feelings. Just then I thought I heard a human voice borne down along the gale—I listened, it was, I feared, but the effect of imagination, yet I waited a moment; again the voice struck my ear, and this time several of the ship's company heard it. 'There he is. Sir! There he is away to windward,' exclaimed several voices; and then in return they uttered a loud hearty cheer to keep up the spirits of the poor fellow. Now came the most trying moment; I must decide whether I would allow a boat to be lowered. 'If I refuse,' I felt, 'my crew will say that I am careless of their lives. It is not their nature to calculate the risk they themselves must run.' At once, Mr. Christopher, one of my lieutenants, nobly volunteered to make the attempt, and numbers of the crew came forward anxious to accompany him. At last, anxiety to save a drowning man prevailed over prudence, and I sanctioned the attempt.

"The boat, with Mr. Christopher and a picked crew, was lowered, not without great difficulty, and, sad to say, with the loss of one of the brave fellows. He was the bowman, and as he stood up with, his boat-hook in his hand to shove off, the boat gave a terrific pitch and sent him over the bow. He must have struck his head against the side of the ship, for he went down instantly and was no more seen. Thus, in the endeavour to save the life of one man, another was already sent to his long account. With sad forebodings for the fate of the rest of the gallant fellows, I saw the boat leave the ship's side. Away she pulled into the darkness where she was no longer visible, and a heavy pull I know she must have of it in that terrible sea, even if she escaped destruction. It was one of the most trying times of my life. We waited in anxious suspense for the return of the boat, the minutes, seeming like hours, passed slowly by, and she did not appear. I began at length to dread that my fears would be realized, and that we should not again see her, when after half an hour had elapsed after she had left the ship's side on the mission of mercy, a cheer from her gallant crew announced her approach with the success of their bold enterprise. My anxiety was not, however, entirely relieved till the falls were hooked on, and she and all her crew were hoisted on board, with the rescued man Miles. To my surprise I found that he was perfectly naked. As he came up the side, also, he required not the slightest assistance, but dived below, at once to dry himself and to get out of the cold. I instantly ordered him to his hammock, and, with the doctor's permission, sent him a stiff glass of grog. I resolved also to relieve him from duty, believing that his nervous system would have received a shock from which it would take long to recover. After I had put the ship once more on her course, being anxious to hear the particulars of his escape, as soon as I heard that he was safely stowed away between the blankets, I went below to see him. His voice was as strong as ever; his pulse beat as regularly, and his nerves seemed as strong as usual. After pointing out to him how grateful he should feel to our Almighty Father for his preservation from an early and dreadful death, I begged him to tell me how he had contrived to keep himself so long afloat. He replied to me in the following words:—'Why, Sir, you see as soon as I came up again, after I had first struck the water, I looked out for the ship, and getting sight of her running away from me, I remembered how it happened I was there, and knew there would be no use swimming after her or singing out. Then, Sir, I felt very certain you would not let me drown without an attempt to pick me up, and that there were plenty of fine fellows on board who would be anxious to man a boat to come to my assistance, if you thought a boat could swim. Then thinks I to myself, a man can die but once, and if its my turn to-day, why there's no help for it. Yet I didn't think all the time that I was likely to lose the number of my mess, do ye see, Sir. The next thought that came to me was, if I am to drown, it's as well to drown without clothes as with them, and if I get them off why there's a better chance of my keeping afloat till a boat can be lowered to pick me up; so I kicked off my shoes, and then I got off my jacket, and then waiting till I could get hold of the two legs at once, I drew off my trousers in a moment. My shirt was soon off me, but I took care to roll up the tails so as not to get them over my face. As I rose on the top of a sea, I caught sight of the ship as you wore her round, and that gave me courage, for I felt I was not to be deserted; indeed, I had no fear of that. Then I knew that there would be no use swimming, so all I did was to throw myself on my back and float till you came up to me. I thought the time was somewhat long, I own. When the ship got back, I saw her hove-to away down to leeward, but I did not like to sing out for fear of tiring myself, and thought you would not hear me; and I fancied also that a boat would at once have been lowered to come and look for me. Well, Sir, I waited, thinking the time was very long, and hearing no sound, yet still I could see the ship hove-to, and you may be sure I did not take my eyes from off her; when at last I heard your voice give the order to wear ship again. Then thinks I to myself, 'Now or never's the time to sing out.' And raising myself as high as I could out of the water, I sang out at the top of my voice. There was a silence on board, but no answer, and I did begin to feel that there was a chance of being lost after all. 'Never give in, though,' thinks I; so I sung out again as loud you may be sure as I could sing. This time the answering cheers of my shipmates gave me fresh spirits; but still I knew full well that I wasn't safe on board yet. If I had wanted to swim there was too much sea on to make any way, so I kept floating on my back as before, just keeping an eye to leeward to see if a boat was coming to pick me up. Well, Sir, when the boat did come at last, with Mr. Christopher and the rest in her, I felt quite strong and hearty, and was well able to help myself on board. I now can scarcely fancy I was so long in the water.' I was much struck with the extraordinary coolness of Miles. He afterwards had another escape, which was owing less to his own self-possession, though he took it as coolly as the first. On our passage home the ship was running with a lightish breeze, and almost calm sea, across the Bay of Biscay, when Miles was sent on the fore-top gallant-yard. By some carelessness he fell completely over the yard, and those aloft expected to see him dashed to pieces on the forecastle. Instead of that the foresail at that moment swelled out with a sudden breeze, and striking the bulge of the sail, he was sent forward clear of the bows and hove into the water. A rope was towing overboard. He caught hold of it, and hauling himself on board, was again aloft within a couple minutes attending to his duty, which had so suddenly been interrupted. On his arrival in England, Lieut. Christopher received the Honorary Silver Medal from the Royal Humane Society for his gallant conduct on the occasion of saving Miles's life."

DEVOTED HEROISM AND COURAGE OF MESSRS. SMITH AND PALMES OF H.M.S. 'SERINGAPATAM.'

1838.

H.M.S. 'Seringapatam,' Captain Leith, was lying off the island of Antigua in August 1838, when, on Sunday, the 26th of that month, eight of her officers, three of whom were youngsters, and all belonging to the midshipmen's berth, with a gentleman a resident in the island, and two seamen, started away from the ship in the pinnace on a cruize. Their intention was to go down to Falmouth Bay, situated about two miles to leeward of English Harbour, where the ship was, and to beat back. The afternoon was very fine, and everything seemed to promise them a pleasant excursion. Having spent a short time in Falmouth Harbour, they hauled their wind, and made three or four tacks on their way back to the ship. The boat, however, made little or nothing to windward, in consequence of the wind being very light. Forgetful of the sudden squalls which visit those latitudes, the merry party of young officers seemed to have kept but a bad look-out to windward; for while standing-in on the starboard tack, the boat was taken by a sudden squall. The helm was put down; but the boat not coming up to the wind so as to lift the sails, she was capsized under every stitch of canvas. She, however, went over so gradually, that all hands had time to creep to windward, and seat themselves on the gunwale. The sails prevented her from turning bottom up, and at the same time protected them, in some measure, from the breaking of the sea. What seems very extraordinary is, that not one of the party, officers or seamen, had a knife in his pocket, so that they had no means of cutting away the rigging and righting the boat. As soon as they had settled themselves on the side of the boat, they had time to look about them, and to consider their perilous position. They were fully two miles from the shore, whence it was scarcely possible any one should have observed the accident, and they were an equal distance or more from the ship; thus the current might carry them far away before any one could come to their assistance. A sea might get up and wash them off the wreck, or sharks might attack and devour them, for the boat's gunwale was only six inches awash. Not a sail was in sight, and all felt convinced that if some unforeseen assistance did not come to their aid they must perish. Despair was well-nigh taking possession of the bosoms of all the party. Silent and melancholy, they sat on the wreck meditating on their fate. All were young. Life, with all its fancied charms and anticipated pleasure had a few short moments previously been before them; and now, death, in all its terrors—slow, lingering, and agonizing—stared them in the face. One only of the whole party was a good swimmer, Mr. W. R. Smith, and he was a very bold and strong one. He looked at the shore; two miles was a long distance to swim, with a full consciousness, too, that those waters swarm with those terrific monsters of the deep, the seaman's just dread—the hideous shark. "Well," said Smith at last, looking wistfully at the distant shore, "I feel I ought to try, as it is the only chance of saving all hands; and I think I could have managed it if I had had but a companion; but it's a long way to go alone through the silent water." "If that is your only reason, Smith, why I will try and keep you company," said Palmes, another midshipman, who had hitherto sat silent, nor complaining like some of the rest. "I am not much of a swimmer, and I don't feel as if I could ever get to shore. However, it's a good cause, and I'll do my best." Thus it was speedily settled, for there was no time to be lost. The two noble adventurers having bid farewell to their shipmates, whom Palmes, at all events, never expected to see again, threw off their jackets and shoes, and struck away together from the wreck. The prayers of those they left behind followed them, for the safety of all depended on their success. Smith swam steadily and strongly, and Palmes made amends for his want of strength and skill by his courage and spirit. Still, before they got half way to the shore, the courage of one of them was to be sorely tried. As Smith swam along he felt his legs strike against something, and, looking down into the clear water, he saw, to his horror, two enormous sharks swimming past him. As yet they had not noticed him; and fortunately was it for both of the brave fellows that they had kept on their trousers and socks, for had the monsters seen the white flesh of their naked feet they would to a certainty have fixed on them as their prey. With admirable presence of mind, Smith kept this dreadful fact to himself, lest the knowledge of it should still further unnerve his companion, who already was almost exhausted by his exertions. At this time they were still full a mile from the shore, which, to their anxious eyes, appeared still further off. "Smith, my dear fellow," exclaimed Palmes, "I can swim no further. Do you push on, and leave me to my fate." "Not I, my lad," answered Smith. "Cheer up, man; we'll yet do well. Here, rest on me for a time; but don't cease striking out." Suiting the action to the word, he came alongside and supported his companion; but he did not tell him why he urged him to keep striking out. Again they struck out together, and Palmes seemed somewhat recovered; but once more his strength forsook him, and he fancied himself incapable of proceeding. Still Smith did not lose courage; but he saw the necessity of keeping their limbs moving, lest the dreadful sharks should be tempted to lay hold of them. Palmes had fully as much moral courage as his companion, but he was his inferior in physical strength; yet feeling that not only his own life and that of Smith, but that of the nine fellow-creatures remaining on the wreck, depended on their reaching the shore, nerved him to further exertions.

Those only who have swam for their lives when the arms have begun to ache, the knees refuse to bend, and the breath grows short, can tell the feelings of the two gallant young men, but more especially those of the brave Palmes. Spurred on by Smith each time that he grew faint and weary, he nerved himself for fresh exertions. At last, as they strained their eyes ahead, the shore seemed to come nearer and nearer. They could distinguish the sandy beach and the green herbage beyond. On a sudden, before even he expected it, Smith felt his foot touch the shore. With a joyful exclamation of thankfulness, he grasped Palmes by the hand, and aided him to wade on to the dry land. No sooner had they emerged from the water, than, overcome with fatigue, poor Palmes sank down on the beach, where he lay for some time unable to move. We fain would believe, nay, we are certain, that they both offered up in their hearts a silent thanksgiving to the Great Being who had thus mercifully preserved them from the perils of the deep. But the gallant Smith, while rejoicing in his own preservation and that of his friend, did not forget the comrades he had left floating on the wreck. As soon as he had recovered sufficient strength to move, he hurried off to the nearest habitation to give information of the accident, and to procure a boat to go to their assistance. Already much time had been lost. It was half-past 4 when the accident occurred, and they had been two hours in reaching the shore, so that darkness was now rapidly approaching, which, of course, would increase the difficulty of finding the wreck. The instant Palmes found he could move, he also got up and went in search of a boat. He procured one, with a crew to man it, while Smith took charge of another, and they instantly started in search of their shipmates. Meantime information of the sad accident had been conveyed on board the 'Seringapatam.' The kind heart of the captain was much grieved when he heard of it, for he could not but fear that the remainder of the party had perished. From him downwards to the smallest boy in the ship, everybody was most painfully anxious about them. He instantly despatched boats in all directions to search for the missing party. All sorts of reports were flying about on board; and as sharks were known to abound, it was feared by the seamen that they might have destroyed their young shipmates. The night also became very bad; the wind rose, and threatened to increase; the sea got up with it, thick clouds collected, and the white-topped waves added to the gloominess of the night, while the rain came down in torrents, and the lightning burst forth in sharp and vivid flashes, increasing the dangers to be apprehended. The boats of the 'Seringapatam' took different directions, each officer commanding shaping the course he thought most likely to bring him up to the wreck. Some of the searching boats went in a wrong direction altogether, being misled by a pilot as to the direction the current took. Hour after hour passed by, and no sign of the wreck was perceived; and both those on board and many of those in the boats began to despair of success. As they looked out through the darkness they fancied they could hear the voices of their shipmates at a distance imploring aid, or that they saw their figures in the boat amid the surrounding gloom. We shall, however, follow the 'Seringapatam's' barge, commanded by her gunner. He knew the set of the current; and as soon as he shoved off from the ship's side, he ran directly down to leeward along the coast, at the distance he understood the boat had been capsized; he being thus better able to calculate the direction in which she would have drifted. His purpose was then to beat back again; thus entirely covering the ground where the wreck must be. On his way down he fell in with the shore-boat, commanded by Mr. Smith, who, at once approving of his plan, joined him in the search. By their calculations the boat would have drifted some five or six miles to leeward, and would be drawn rather off shore. They were right; and about the very place where they expected, she was discerned still floating as Smith had left her. With anxious hearts they pulled up to her. Five only of the nine were seen still clinging to her. The other four had too probably given themselves up in despair. The crew of the barge cheered, and were answered with a faint hail from those they had come to save, already almost sinking from exhaustion. "Where are the rest?" exclaimed Smith, as he saw their diminished numbers. "Only a short distance in-shore of us," was the answer. "They have not left the wreck five minutes." "Alas! but in those five minutes the poor fellows may have sunk fathoms down, or been grasped by the jaws of the hungry sharks," thought Smith, as he instantly pulled away in the direction indicated.

His four shipmates were found not far apart, each of them lashed to an oar, and striking out as well as they could for the shore, but strange to say, only one of them could swim at all.

It was then past 9 o'clock, making nearly five hours that the poor fellows had held on to the boat, with all the horrors of death staring them in the face, for, of course, they were not aware that Smith and Palmes had reached the shore, and, indeed, had began to fear that they were already numbered with the dead. Their pleasure, and, we believe, their gratitude, was increased, when they discovered that both had escaped, and had been the means under Providence of preserving their lives.

Their sufferings had been very great—when the storm came on, they expected every moment to be washed from the wreck, and to add to their horrors, a shark had been, for most of the time, lying between the masts of the pinnace, his fiery eyes glaring up at them, and watching them, as about soon to become his prey. Had it not, indeed, been for Smith's coolness and skill as a swimmer, and for the generous daring of Palmes, in all human probability every soul must have perished. The circumstances we have narrated, having been represented to the Royal Humane Society, the Silver Medallion of the Society, with a complimentary letter, was sent out, and presented on the quarter-deck of the 'Seringapatam,' by Captain Leith, to each of the two young officers, in presence of the whole ship's company, a suitable and gratifying reward for their gallantry, in addition to that their own consciences could not fail to afford.

A SECOND ACT OF GALLANTRY RECORDED OF MR. W. R. SMITH.

Some years after the events I have just described, Mr. W. E. Smith having reached the rank of lieutenant, belonged to H.M.S. 'Endymion.' On the 4th of February, 1847, she was at anchor off Sacraficios Island, near Vera Cruz. The night of the 4th was excessively dark, and a strong current was running past the ship, when Mr. West, mate, slipped his footing from the gangway, and fell into the sea, striking his head against the ship's side. On the cry of "a man overboard," which was instantly raised, Lieut. W. E. Smith and others, rushed on deck; but, owing to the excessive darkness and the strong current, no object could at first be seen floating: at length, some white substance was perceived at a distance, when Lieut. Smith immediately plunged into the water, and struck rapidly out towards it. On reaching the object, he found it to be Mr. West, who was lying quite motionless, though, from his head sinking under water, he would speedily have been deprived of life. Lieut. Smith at once raised his head above water, and kept him floating, until, by repeatedly calling, he attracted a boat to his assistance, when he and his companion were carried on board. The crew were thickly clustering on the rigging, to see them return, and from among them another man missed his footing and fell overboard, from the main-chains. Mr. Smith, who saw the accident, not knowing whether the man could swim, instantly plunged in again to his assistance, but found, on reaching him, that he was perfectly able to keep himself afloat till the boat could arrive to pick him up.

ACCOUNT OF RESCUE OF BOAT'S CREW OF H.M.S. 'WOLVERINE' BY LIEUT. ARTHUR BURRARD KINGSTON, R.N.

January 16th, 1840;

ALSO OF HIS SAVING THE LIFE OF A BOY OF H.M.S. 'SARACEN.'

March 13th, 1840.

Among the many acts of gallantry it has been my privilege to recount, there are few which afford me more satisfaction, or which I am more likely to narrate with correctness[1] than the following, as the chief particulars were given me by one of the actors, Lieut. Kingston. Should it, however, by chance, be discovered that I have made any mistake in my account (which I do not think likely will be the case) I alone must be answerable. I have, however, in order to confirm my account, given the official reports on his behaviour on two occasions, when he displayed the most conspicuous gallantry, courage, and presence of mind. At the time of which I speak, H.M.S. 'Wolverine' formed one of the African squadron, and was commanded by the brave and kind Commander Tucker, whose noble conduct and lamented death I have elsewhere described. She had been cruizing off the coast, when, on the 15th of January, 1840, she anchored off the River Brass or St. John, one of the mouths of the far-famed and mysterious Niger. Captain Tucker had made himself thoroughly acquainted with the coast, as well as with the modes of proceeding of the slave-dealers, and of the slavers, and he was thus enable to capture a very large number of vessels, though with single-minded purpose, as his object was to stop the slave-trade, he endeavoured to take them before they got their slaves on board. Soon after she had brought up about four miles from the shore, Captain Tucker ordered the boats to be hoisted out and to be fitted for service, during an absence of three days. While this work was going forward, a canoe was observed paddling off from the shore towards the ship. On her coming alongside, she was proved to contain two natives of great consequence, it seemed, judging from their costume—that is to say, if scarlet dresses, or rather wrappers, round the loins, and ornamented caps, might be admitted as tests of rank. They came up the side without hesitation, and after some cross-questioning they informed Captain Tucker that they had seen a fine schooner, under American colours, up the River Nun, and that from her appearance and movements there could be no doubt that she was a slaver. The promise of a reward induced them, with negro eagerness, to undertake all Captain Tucker proposed, to act as spies, and to bring further information about the vessel, and then to perform the part of pilots in conducting her, when captured, down the river. This information, which, it was hoped was correct, hurried the departure of the boats. Lieut. Dumaresq took charge of the pinnace, as commanding officer of the expedition; Mr. Arthur B. Kingston, then only a mate, had the cutter; and Mr. Thorburn, another mate of the 'Wolverine,' went in the gig. Water, provisions, and arms, having been placed in the boats, and all being ready, they shoved off from the ship at half-past 10 in the morning.

Lieut. Dumaresq had one of the black pilots in his boat, and Mr. Kingston had the other with him. Sometimes sailing, when there was a breeze, and at others, when it fell light, the crews, eager for work of some sort, pulling away with a will, they soon reached the mouth of the River Brass. The river is here pretty broad, its banks, as far as the eye can reach, covered with tall mangroves, their dark foliage imparting a sombre and almost funereal aspect to the scenery. After the boats had pulled about ten miles up the Brass, they reached a sort of natural canal, which connects the Brass with the Nun. After they had passed through this, and had entered the Nun, they hove to for dinner, a meal not at all unwelcome after their long pull. When the crews were refreshed, they again bent to their oars, and proceeded about 30 miles up the Nun. Darkness now rapidly came on, and they were no longer able to see ahead, nor had they been able to discover anything of their looked-for prize. On questioning their black volunteer pilots, the worthy gentlemen seemed very uncertain, not only whether the slaver had sailed, but where she had been, and where they then were. One declared that they had come much higher up than where she was last seen, and that she had probably been sheltered from their observation in one of the numerous creeks which run through the banks of the river. In this dilemma a council of war was held; and at first it was proposed to retrace their steps, till the elder of the black pilots offered to take a small canoe they had with them, higher up the river, to ascertain whether or not the slaver was there. This proposal being agreed to by Lieut. Dumaresq, the two negroes pulled away, and were soon lost in the darkness, not without some slight misgivings as to whether or not they would ever return. However, to pass the time during the absence of the negroes, they piped to supper. A small portion only of the ship's biscuit and salt-pork had been discussed, and a glass of grog had just been served out all round, when the canoe was seen gliding at full speed out of the darkness, the dip of her paddles just breaking the stillness of the night. "Well, my man, any news of the slaver?" asked the lieutenant, in an eager whisper, for the return of the canoe gave him hopes that a prize was at hand. "Ship live there;" answered the elder black, in the clear and distinct tones in which his race can speak, but still only in a whisper. No sooner was this announcement made than the oars were got out simultaneously, and at a word from Lieut. Dumaresq, the boats went ahead like magic. Not a word except the necessary ones of command was uttered. Everyone knew the importance of silence. The three boats, urged on by their eager crews, advanced all abreast at full speed. Ten minutes, or little more, were sufficient to show the dark outline of a schooner, masts and spars relieved against the starry sky. Silent as the grave, the boats pulled on—their oars so carefully dipped, that scarcely a splash was heard. Those on board the schooner slept, or seemed to sleep, for not a sound was heard from her decks. A slaver's crew, however, conscious of the risks they are running in their nefarious traffic, are seldom off their guard, and the British seamen were fully prepared for a reception with a shower of grape and musketry. Yet without a thought of the consequences—on getting close to her, on they dashed with a cheer, and in another instant were alongside and scrambling up her sides. So unexpected had been their attack, that not an attempt at resistance was made, and, to the no small delight of Lieut. Dumaresq and his followers, they found themselves in possession of a fine little schooner, which proved to be the 'Lark,' with a crew of no less than 30 Spaniards. They were first all properly secured and sent down below, with orders to behave themselves, and a hint that if they did not, it would be the worse for them.

A slaver's crew have a right, it is understood, to try and retake their vessel without being treated as pirates, and hung in case they do not succeed, or are afterwards captured, so it becomes necessary to keep a very sharp look-out after them. Her papers were at the same time secured, and on her circumstances being investigated, not a doubt remained as to her character.

Bending sails, and getting all ready for an early start, occupied some time, when the watch being set, with strict orders to keep a wakeful eye on the prisoners, the rest of the party lay down on the sails, and were soon as sound asleep as they would have been in their own hammocks, or in the quiet homes of their childhood's days, when pirates and slavers were rather beings of the imagination than disagreeable realities.

At early dawn all hands were roused up, and the schooner was very soon got under weigh. There was little or no wind to fill her sails, so the boats' crews had to tow her down the river, hoping to find a breeze as they got near the mouth of the river to take her out. Nine miles of their distance had been thus accomplished, when, at about 7 o'clock, as she was passing through a long reach of the River Nun, a sail hove in sight, which was soon discovered to be a rakish two-topsail schooner. She stood boldly on up the river towards the barracoons, either not observing the little 'Lark,' or, at all events, not suspecting into whose hands she had fallen. Lieut. Dumaresq on this instantly ordered the man-of-war boats to be hauled up alongside of the schooner on the opposite side to that on which the stranger was, so that she should not observe them, and, by taking fright, endeavour to make her escape. At the same time the pinnace and gig were manned and held in readiness (the crews being well armed) to board the schooner, Mr. Kingston receiving orders to remain in charge of the 'Lark' with the cutter's crew. On slowly came the stranger, the light wind only just enabling her to stem the current. She seemed totally unconscious of the neighbourhood of her enemies. On a sudden something seemed to awaken her suspicions, and Lieutenant Dumaresq, judging that the best time had arrived for taking possession, shoved off and pulled towards her as fast as the crews could lay their backs to the oars. Mr. Kingston meantime was left in command of the 'Lark' with the cutter's crew, Mr. Thorburn accompanying their leader. Away went the boats. The stranger now, for the first time, was aware of her danger, or rather, certainty of capture, unless she could blow the approaching boats out of the water; but of attempting to do so with any chance of success she could have had but slight hopes, as she saw that the 'Lark' was in the hands of her enemies, and she could not tell how many people might be remaining on board to avenge the destruction of their comrades. Still slavers, when they have seen a chance of success, have often fought desperately, and the cutter's crew on board the 'Lark' watched with deep interest the approach of the two boats to the big schooner, not knowing what moment she might open her fire on them; but the slaver's crew had not even the brute-like courage to induce them, to fight in defence of their accursed calling, and without firing a shot they allowed the two boats to come alongside. Once with their boat-hooks having a firm hold of the slaver's chains, the British seamen very quickly scrambled on board. The crew, who were chiefly Spaniards, made no opposition, nor did a number of other people, who, dressed in shore-going clothes, announced themselves as passengers. There was certainly a wonderfully sea-going look about them, though they all seemed very anxious to leave the vessel as fast as possible. Now as the consequences of detaining people against their will are often very disagreeable, Lieut. Dumaresq, whatever might have been his suspicions, thought it best to allow the gentlemen to take their departure. It was afterwards discovered that the fellows, who were all of them belonging to the slaver's crew, took on shore a very considerable number of doubloons, which form, in general, the most valuable portion of a prize, unless she has her cargo of slaves on board; the slave-vessel herself and her stores rarely sell for much. What was called head-money has, of late years, been reduced to one-fourth of what it was formerly. The new prize proved to be the 'Asp,' a fit name for a slaver, though she was now effectually deprived of her sting. As soon as she was thoroughly overhauled, and all her forthcoming papers secured, the Spanish crew were sent below, and the man-of-war's boats began towing the two schooners down the river. It was laborious work, after the incessant labour for so many hours the men had gone through, but a prize tows easily, and the gallant fellows cheerfully bent to their oars. Thus the vessels proceeded on rapidly between the mangrove-covered banks of the river. By 5 P.M. the entrance of the Nun appeared in sight, and preparations were instantly made for crossing the bar; I must rather say, bars, for there are three, one within the other, at some distance apart, and over them, when the current sets out and the wind blows in, the sea breaks with great violence, so that, under those circumstances, the crossing them, even in a decked vessel, is a work of very considerable danger. On this occasion appearances were far from favourable: the wind was foul and blowing very strong, a heavy sea was breaking over the bars; its incessant roar seeming like a warning not to venture into its power; while evening was rapidly closing in, the coming darkness threatening to increase the difficulties to be encountered. Still Mr. Dumaresq was unwilling to expose his followers to the baneful atmospheric influences of another night spent within the mouth of the river, or to the chances of attack from any of the slavers' friends who might be in the neighbourhood, and who would always be ready to win back a prize at any sacrifice of the lives of the captors; though that was a contingency not likely to happen. He was rather influenced probably by his anxiety to secure his prizes and to report his proceedings to his superior officer. The schooners had anchored just inside the inner bar, and all the necessary preparations having been made, and the tide serving, they again got under weigh. Mr. Dumaresq led in the 'Asp,' directing Mr. Kingston to follow in his wake. This Mr. Kingston did, approaching the bar on the starboard-tack, the 'Lark' leaving the cutter towing astern, and her own boat, which could not be hoisted up on account of the tackles being unrove, and a net full of vegetables being worked athwart the davits. Neither could her boat be got on board, on account of the crowded state of the decks. As the 'Lark' drew close to the bar, the appearance of things in no degree mended. Hands were placed in the chains, who kept the lead constantly going; and, as the water shoaled, the schooners had to tack repeatedly, wearing sometimes, as the heavy swell threatened otherwise to prevent their coming round. From the first Mr. Kingston had but little confidence in the black volunteer pilot who had accompanied him on board the 'Lark,' and now, though he urged him by threats to perform the duty he had undertaken, and tried to stimulate him to exertion, by reminding him of his promised reward, he only answered, "This no my bar!" and finally threw himself down on the deck, under the bulwarks, refusing to take any further charge of the vessel. It must be remembered that the boats had entered the Niger by the Brass river, the bar of which was his bar, and that he had bargained to act as pilot through its mouth, so that there was ample excuse for the poor wretch: this, however, in no degree lessened the danger of the position in which the little 'Lark' was placed.

It was now perfectly dark and very squally, while nothing was visible to mark the course the vessel should pursue but the phosphorescent light of the breakers stretching across the bar from shore to shore; while to all appearance there seemed to be reef only beyond reef, destruction on which it was scarcely possible the schooner could escape. Though the 'Lark' was pressed to the utmost, the 'Asp' soon distanced her; and though Lieut. Dumaresq showed lights, they were of little or no use in guiding her course. Squall after squall struck the little schooner, and as she heeled over, it sometimes appeared that she would never again rise, or be able to beat out through the tremendous surf which came rolling in. At length Mr. Kingston judged it wise to shorten sail, which he forthwith did, having set only his mainsail, jib, and fore-and-aft foresail (fore-trysail). He also sent a good hand on the fore-yard to look out for any break which might happily appear in the white wall of surf which came rolling in over the surrounding shoals. The little 'Lark' had now reached the innermost of the three bars, and was pitching into the seas, which came foaming up and rolling over her decks. She had the cutter towing after her, and astern of that was the schooner's boat. That very soon began to fill, and finally swamped, when it became necessary to cut her adrift. This was done, and she quickly disappeared. At about a quarter to eight a blue light was observed close to windward; and as the 'Lark' was wearing off the heaviest part of the bar, some voices were heard hailing her. It was soon discovered that they proceeded from the pinnace, which had apparently several hands in her. Again they hailed, imploring to be picked up, stating, as far as could be understood, that they had broken adrift from astern of the 'Asp' with the gig, which was lost; and from the words which reached the 'Lark,' Mr. Kingston was very much afraid that several lives were already lost, while it seemed too probable that those in the pinnace would share the same fate unless he could manage to get near them to take them on board. Not a moment was to be lost. The pinnace, it must be understood, was inside the 'Lark,' higher up the river, the 'Lark' having passed her after she had broken adrift from the 'Asp.' In another minute she would have drifted among the breakers, when the destruction of all on board would be sealed. To pick her up under weigh was almost impossible; and with the tide and heavy sea, the schooner could not be steered with any degree of certainty even near her, and could even this be done, the probabilities were that she would be swamped before the men could be got out of her. The young officer, therefore, saw that but one course only was open for him to pursue with any chance of success, and that involved immense risk both to the vessel and his people. To think is to act with a British seaman in a case of emergency. He saw that to intercept the boat he must anchor, and having both anchors clear, and a hand by the weather one all along, he ordered it to be let go, though he had but two fathoms at the time under the vessel's keel; while the surf from the second bar was curling up round the vessel's sides, threatening to make a clear sweep of her decks. His order to let go was perhaps not understood, or the Spanish crew, some thirty in number, who seeing what was about to be done, and expecting instant destruction in consequence, endeavoured to impede it: at all events, he had to rush forward and cut the stoppers with an axe, which he luckily had at hand. The schooner brought up all standing, the sea at the same instant making a terrific breach over her; but the helmsman was a good hand, and sheered her over to the exact spot the pinnace must pass. The whole was the work of a moment. The boat drifted near, a rope was hove into her, and providentially caught by the nearly exhausted crew. She was hauled alongside, her people being got out; while some fresh hands went down into her and secured her with her own cable and the end of the schooner's main-sheet. At the same time the schooner's fore-sheet was passed into the cutter as a preventer. Four men were saved from the pinnace. They stated that she and the gig had been towing astern of the 'Asp,' with two hands in each, when, on crossing the inner bar, they both broke adrift together. Instead, however, of the two men in the pinnace getting into the gig, which they might have managed, those in the smaller got into the larger boat, fancying they would be safer, when they found themselves totally unable to pull her against the tide or to guide her to shore. The 'Lark' very soon after this began to drive, when the other anchor was dropped under foot, while they veered away on the larboard cable. She now held, but the breakers made a clean breach over her decks, washing adrift the numerous casks, loose spars, fowl-coops, and a variety of other things; and in addition, what was worse than all, a large scuttle-butt of palm-oil. Meantime, to increase the confusion and danger, the cutter and pinnace were striking the stern and quarters of the vessel with great force, often coming as far forward as the main chains on both sides. The Spaniards had from the first been very unruly, and they now gave symptoms of an intention of breaking into open mutiny. In addition, therefore, to the variety of other duties the British seamen were called on to perform, it became necessary for them to keep their arms in readiness, to repel any sudden attack the fellows might venture to make on them for the purpose of regaining the schooner. The palm-oil, also, which is like very thick red mud, had coated the whole deck, from before the foremast nearly as far aft as the mainmast, making it more slippery even than ice, so that no one could either stand or walk on it. The water also had no effect on its greasy composition, and as there were no ashes on board to strew over it, one part of the deck became almost separated from the other. The Spaniards were evidently watching their opportunity, and kept eyeing the British seamen with no friendly intentions. They were four to one of them, and though deprived of their muskets and cutlasses, they had still the long knives in their belts, without which no Spaniard ever thinks his costume complete. The wretches kept up such a hubbub, and did so much to impede the work of the vessel, that some of them very nearly got shot as a hint to the rest of what they might expect if they proceeded to extremities. The gallant young officer himself had little fear of what they might venture to do, as considering the dilemma the vessel was placed in, surrounded by shoals, with heavy breakers close at hand, and in thick darkness, they could scarcely hope to get out to sea and escape that way; or, if they returned up the river to avoid recapture, should they regain possession of the vessel. In obedience, however, to his written instructions, he kept some of his people under arms to watch the fellows. For full half an hour the little schooner lay in this way, it being expected every instant that her anchors would part, when a roller, more severe even than the others, threw the cutter on board on the larboard quarter, breaking the bunk adrift and capsizing it. As the vessel rose again, the boat fell aft and immediately filled, when she was of necessity cut adrift to prevent her doing more damage; and as soon as this was done she sank.

Shortly after this the squalls began to become less frequent, and the breakers moderated gradually; an opening also was seen in the line of sparkling foam from the foreyard, so Mr. Kingston resolved to make sail and to get out of the river. He contrived to weigh the starboard or lee anchor, after very many fruitless attempts to do so, on account of the heavy surges; but as it was found impossible to purchase the weather one, it was slipped, and the schooner wore round under her jib in a quarter less two fathoms. A sharp-sighted seaman stood on the fore-yard, from whence he conned the vessel—the lead kept going as before. The mainsail was then set, and the schooner stood out towards the opening which appeared in the surf. She obeyed her helm readily, the rocks and shoals were avoided, and at length the outer bar was safely passed. At about 10 P.M. she came up with the 'Asp,' anchored a short distance outside. Lieut. Dumaresq stood with speaking-trumpet in hand, and hailed the 'Lark'—"I'm glad you've got out safe; but I fear four of my poor fellows are lost, and our two boats." "They're safe on board, and I've your boat in tow," was the answer. A loud congratulatory cheer from the British seamen on board the 'Asp' signified their satisfaction at the success of Mr. Kingston's gallant exploit. He then anchored, and going on board the 'Asp,' was further thanked and congratulated by his superior officer; for he had not only given up all hopes of the people in the pinnace and gig having escaped, but of the 'Lark' herself, he having had a most perilous passage across the bars. He had struck three times, in one of which shocks the boats had broken adrift. The two schooners again weighed and ran down to the 'Wolverine,' lying off the Brass, ten miles distant. On their arrival, Mr. Kingston had the satisfaction of receiving the warmest approval of his excellent commander for the gallantry and judgment he had displayed. The vessels were afterwards sent to Sierra Leone, where they were condemned and cut up.

BOY'S LIFE SAVED BY LIEUT. A. B. KINGSTON.

Mr. Kingston having taken the 'Lark' schooner to Sierra Leone, where she was condemned, he was appointed to H.M.S. 'Saracen,' which soon afterwards arrived there. From that place the 'Saracen' sailed for the river Gambia, soon after the 2nd of March.

On the evening of the 13th of the same month, while on her passage there, when it was blowing fresh, with a heavy cross sea, a lad, aged 19, named John Plunket, fell overboard from the main-top-gallant-yard. In falling he struck against the topsail-yard and the sweeps stowed on the quarter, and was bleeding at the mouth, and almost senseless when he reached the water. The lad could not swim, and his death seemed inevitable, when Mr. Kingston, who was on the quarter-deck, without a moment's hesitation, sprung overboard, exclaiming to his commander as he ran aft, "Send a boat as quick as you can, Sir, I'll save him." He struck out bravely towards the poor lad, but before he could reach him, he sank. A cry of horror arose from, all on board, for they thought the lad was lost, though every exertion was made to get a boat in the water to pick up Mr. Kingston. Plunket, however, again rose, and Mr. Kingston grasping hold of him, supported him above water, though with much difficulty, as the lad, who bled profusely from the mouth and nostrils, convulsively clung round him, and almost dragged him down to the bottom. Fortunately he released himself from the clutch of the now senseless youth, and continued to support him by swimming and treading water. For fear of exhaustion, he afterwards threw himself on his back, and placing the head of his almost inanimate shipmate on his chest, he kept him up for a quarter of an hour, till a boat reached them, and took them on board.

On another occasion, while on the coast of Africa, in a spot where sharks were known to abound, Mr. Kingston leaped overboard after another lad who had fallen into the water. Fortunately the life-buoy was let go at the same time, and wisely catching hold of it, he towed it up to the sinking youth, and providentially preserved his life. I cannot refrain from giving the only notice he takes in his journal of the former circumstance. It is characteristic of the brave and modest seaman. "I yesterday had an opportunity of saving a poor lad's life, who fell overboard from the main-top-gallant-yard, by jumping after him. A boat picked us both up. Though stunned and bleeding at the mouth, he is recovering in his hammock."

I give a copy of Captain Tucker's certificate relating to the two circumstances we have described. Mr. Kingston was deservedly promoted to the rank of Lieutenant for his gallantry.

Captain Tucker's certificate of Lieut. A. B. Kingston's conduct.

These are to certify to my Lords-Commissioners of the Admiralty, that Mr. Arthur B. Kingston (mate), served as supernumerary mate on board Her Majesty's sloop under my command, from the 28th day of November, 1829, to the date hereof, during which time, by his judgment and presence of mind, he saved the lives of four of this sloop's crew, when he had charge of the 'Lark' schooner (detained in the river here for being engaged in the slave-trade) when bringing her out of the river, in company with another detained schooner (the 'Asp') in command of Lieut. Dumaresq, senior lieutenant of this sloop, when both vessels were in imminent danger of being lost on the bar, over which the sea was running very high and breaking very heavy. The 'Asp' having crossed the inner bar, and being outside the 'Lark,' and on the outer bar, had the pinnace and gig of this sloop in a tremendous sea washed away from the stern, with four men in them. The 'Lark,' at the time being on the inner bar, with the sea breaking over and into the vessel, and in great danger of being lost. Mr. Kingston, seeing the imminent danger the men were in, and that they must be lost if he did not pick them up, let his anchor go when he considered the vessel in that position when, if brought up, the boat must drift close to him, when the sea made clear breaches over the vessel, and nearly filled her; but he had the happiness of saving the lives of the four men in the boat, by throwing ropes into the boat as they drifted close by, saving not only the lives of the men, but the boats, having himself lost the boat of the vessel and the cutter of this sloop which had been secured astern, the cutter having been thrown by one of the rollers in and on the quarter of the 'Lark,' where she remained until the next sea and roll, when she fell over the side and sank. On picking up the boat, Mr. Kingston not being able to shorten in the cable and weigh, slipped the cable and made sail, and after many risks of striking on the bars, for which he had no pilot, he succeeded in taking the vessel out, although it was sunset when he saved the men, and dark before he got clear of the bar.

"Mr. Kingston also jumped overboard from this sloop in the river at Sierra Leone, to save a boy who had fallen overboard, and, in falling, struck against the sweeps on the top-sail-yard, stowed on the quarter. During the time he served on board the 'Wolverine,' Mr. Kingston conducted himself in every respect very much to my satisfaction.

"Given under my hand on board H.M.S. 'Wolverine,' at Sierra Leone, this 3rd day of March, 1840. (Signed) "WILLIAM TUCKER, Commander."

RESCUE OF CREW OF 'MINERVA' BY MR. SLATER, SECOND MASTER OF H.M. MAIL-PACKET 'WIDGEON,' OFF CALAIS,

March 10th, 1842.

H.M. Mail Packet, of Dover, Lieut. Scriven, Commander, was lying in Calais Harbour on the 9th of March, 1842, when about 9 P.M. a heavy gale sprang up, which continued increasing in fury all night, and a terrific sea in consequence was running by the following morning. At that time, soon after daylight, a brig was discovered in the offing, with her sails blown to shivers. At about 11 A.M., she let go her anchor to the eastward of the pier, about a mile from the shore, where was a very heavy sea, which soon broke completely over her. Here she continued for some time in a most critical position, pitching bows under, and threatening every instant to go to the bottom. At length she began to drag her anchors, when all hope of her preservation, unless the gale should suddenly abate, was small indeed. The lives of all on board were now placed in the greatest jeopardy, and since this, at about 3 o'clock, no effort being made by the French authorities to send to her rescue, two English gentlemen offered 50l. for the life-boat of the Humane Society at Calais, with the intention of getting her manned by an English crew, who volunteered their services. The boat, however, was refused on this very account; and at length, with the prospect of the reward, six young men, mostly boys, undertook to put off in her. Instead, however, of launching her close to the pier, they shoved off in the very middle of the breakers. After half an hour's vain and foolish attempt to reach the vessel, they gave it up, and returning, declared that the boat was injured. By this time, Mr. Slater, of the 'Widgeon,' had come down to the beach, and with the following brave fellows belonging to the same vessel, Richard Canney, quarter-master, Thomas Sinclair, Thomas Lawrence, Watkin Edwards, and Daniel Trim, able-bodied seamen; as also—Nicholson, belonging to the 'Frederick,' collier of Sunderland, whose intrepidity and gallantry throughout was conspicuous, volunteered to man the first boat to be procured to put off to the 'Minerva.' She by this time, half-past 6 o'clock, having cut away her anchors, in the hope of drifting on shore, had struck; the tide was coming in, and the sea was breaking over her.

In a short time more it was very evident that the crew would be washed off the wreck, and meet with a watery grave, though within a quarter of a mile of the shore. The cries of the poor fellows for help were dreadful. Twice had Mr. Slater, with determined perseverance in his humane object, to apply to the harbour-master for the use of the life-boat. At length he consented to give up the key of the boat-house and to allow the English to take it on being assured that he would be paid for any damage it might receive. After this not a moment was lost by 200 Englishmen in the lace-business, who, under the superintendence of Lieut. Scriven, the commander of the 'Widgeon,' nobly assisted in launching the boat through the boiling surf. The seven gallant men, fearless of the awful risk they ran, in the hopes of saving the lives of their fellow-creatures, pulled away on this enterprise. They started from the westward, and had to pass the head of the pier, a dangerous service even in ordinary weather. It took them half an hour to get over the bar, when, had it not been for the admirable management of Mr. Slater, and the intrepidity of his crew, the boat herself and all would have been lost, so terrific was the sea they had to encounter. In spite of it, by persevering efforts, they made head-way, though two hours elapsed before they could reach the brig. She was found to be the 'Minerva,' of Jersey, bound from Sunderland, William Percy, master, laden with coals, and of 163 tons. She was now a perfect wreck, her mast swinging backwards and forwards, and threatening every instant to destroy the boat, while the sea was making a clean breach over her. Seven human beings were clinging to the wreck, every soul of whom in ten minute more must have perished. With no little difficulty they were all hauled in safety into the boat which then in triumph returned to the shore.

The Lords of the Admiralty testified their sense of the gallant conduct of the crew of H.M. packet 'Widgeon,' by presenting the sum of 5l. to each of the seamen engaged under Mr. Slater in rescuing seven human beings belonging to the 'Minerva.' A public dinner was given on the 30th March at Calais to Lieut. Scriven, R.N., commander of the 'Widgeon,' and to Mr. Slater—Mr. Scott, R.N., presiding. Five of the crew were presented with 8l. each for their gallantry. Quarter-master Canney was presented with a piece of plate value of 12l., and Mr. Slater presented with a piece of plate value 20l. The town-council of Calais also voted Mr. Slater a silver cup value of 300 francs, and ordered silver medals to be given to the crew of the 'Widgeon,' who accompanied him.

Besides the gallant acts of which I have been able to give tolerably full accounts, I have collected notes of a number of others, yet a portion only of the many which have been performed by naval men since the Queen came to the throne. They all show the readiness of sailors to risk their own lives in the endeavour to preserve those of their fellow-creatures; and I have no doubt that in another edition of this work I shall have the opportunity of describing a considerable number of other instances of gallantry and heroism, of which I have at present no exact information, and which had I, indeed, my space would scarcely allow me to give.

MR. HENRY SHEA, ASSISTANT-SURGEON, R.N., MEDITERRANEAN,

July, 1837.

On the 8th July as H.M.S. 'Asia' was standing out to sea from Cagliari, in Sardinia, a seaman named Anthony W— jumped overboard in a fit of drunkenness; and while the ship was being hove to, Mr. Henry Shea, assistant-surgeon, dropped himself from the spanker-boom into the sea, and after struggling with the man, succeeded in keeping him above water until the boats reached them.

LIEUT. F. H. STEVENS, R.N., MEDITERRANEAN,

August, 1837.

On the 5th August, 1837, H.M.S. 'Rodney' was on her passage from Palmas Bay (Sardinia) to Minorca, when a seaman, named James Ray, fell from the maintop-sail yard-arm into the sea. On the cry being raised of "A man overboard!" Mr. F. H. Stevens, mate, seeing the man floating past the quarter in a state of insensibility, without waiting to take off his clothes, jumped overboard, and by great exertion, kept him above water until the boat reached them.

LIEUT. JOHN STEPHENS, R.N., LISBON,

December, 1837.

On the 3rd December, 1837, an alarm was given on board H.M.S. 'Inconstant,' at Lisbon, of a man overboard. Mr. John Stephens, mate, ran to the spot whence the person fell, plunged overboard, dived, and succeeded, after much danger and difficulty, in bringing him from a considerable depth to the surface of the water: both were carried by the tide a long way astern of the ship. Mr. Stephens found it difficult to support the man, and both were sinking, when William Henry White, seaman, fearlessly plunged from the topsail, swam to their relief, and supported them in the water, until a boat reached them.

WILLIAM JENNINGS, COAST-GUARD BOATMAN,

November, 1838.

On the 27th November, 1838, the brig 'Bellissima,' from Odessa to Amsterdam, was driven, during a heavy gale of wind, on the rocks, a mile and a half to the westward of Looe. She was breaking up fast, and her crew were evidently getting disheartened, when William Jennings, commissioned boatman of the coast-guard, at the risk of his life, nobly swam off to the rock with a rope, and by throwing it to the vessel, the crew, thirteen in number, were enabled to get to the rock, from which they were taken by a boat, carried overland from Looe by the indefatigable exertions of several inhabitants of that town.

HENRY JOHNSON, SEAMAN, ENGLAND,

June, 1839.

On the 20th June, 1839, a boat from H.M. sloop 'Fairy,' was sent up the river Stour to obtain a supply of water. The weather was squally, and the boat was completely overturned in the middle of the river by a sudden gust of wind. The crew were precipitated into the sea without any prospect of relief, there being no boat nearer to them than the town of Harwich. Providentially an officer of the ship discovered the catastrophe, and two boats were instantly despatched to their aid, but it was thirty minutes before they reached them. One of the crew, George Cochrane, could not swim, and Henry Johnson, regardless of himself, devoted his whole efforts to succour him, and finding him to be encumbered with heavy clothing, actually stripped him in the water to his shirt, and when washed away from the keel of the boat, restored him to it again.

Another man, named John Stevens, at the expiration of twenty minutes, became exhausted and came also under Johnson's care, and both acknowledged that had it not been for his exertions they must have perished.

INSTANCE OF COURAGE AND HUMANITY.

During a severe storm in the autumn of 1839, a French vessel was wrecked in the dead of night in Weymouth Bay. A coast-guard man, named John Mantle, thinking he saw human beings moving on the deck, jumped into the raging sea and swam to her. On getting on board he found two boys and the captain, who had broken his leg, on the deck. Mantle took the boys safely to shore, and then, returning to the wreck with a rope, which was made fast to the shore, he slung the captain in a running tackle, and he was safely landed. The gallant fellow then groped in the cabin to find if any living being remained, and afterwards jumped into the sea, and swam to the shore in safety. He was rewarded by the Humane Society and Lloyd's, and received a beautiful watch, with a suitable inscription, from the inhabitants of Weymouth, 20l. by vote of the Lords of the Treasury, and 5l. from the Shipwreck Association, besides being promoted in the service; all which honours he received with great modesty, declaring that the result of his endeavours was his richest reward.

ARTHUR HASSETT, BOATMAN, COAST-GUARD, COVE OF CORK,

October, 1839.

On the 24th October, 1839, Ralph Allen fell from the Revenue Quay into the water in the harbour of the Cove of Cork, when a strong ebb tide was carrying him off. Arthur Hassett, revenue boatman, saw the accident, jumped in with his clothes on, and brought Allen safe to shore. Hassett has on three previous occasions been instrumental in saving life at the risk of his own.

COMMANDER ALDRIDGE, R.N., VASIKA BAY,

October, 1839.

On the 4th October, 1839, John Burke, a seaman belonging to H.M.S. 'Pembroke,' commanded by Captain Moresby, then lying in Vasika Bay, fell overboard, and, the man being unable to swim, was in the act of being carried away by the current. Commander Aldridge, of the 'Pembroke,' observing from the poop the inevitable fate of the seaman, leaped from thence a height of 30 feet into the sea, and succeeded in saving him.

MR. RICHARDS, R.N., OFF BRIGHTON,

June, 1842.

On the morning of the 13th of June, 1842, Mr. Matthew Richards, about 17 years of age, and acting-master's assistant of H.M. brig 'Nautilus,' jumped in the most gallant manner from the hammock-netting of that vessel into the sea off Brighton, and saved the life of a boy who had fallen overboard. The boy was unable to swim, and, being exhausted by his struggles, was sinking at the moment Mr. Richards arrived to his rescue. The crew were cleaning decks at the time, and the noise consequent upon that operation prevented the boy's cries from being heard; it would, therefore, have been impossible to have cleared away a boat in sufficient time to have saved him.

ABRAHAM HART YOUNGS, CHIEF BOATMAN OF FISHERGATE STATION,

January, 1843.

On the 13th of January, 1843, the smack 'Prince Regent,' of London, was driven on shore at Fishergate station; and, on her being observed in distress, Lieut. Franklin, and the chief boatman of Blackrock, Lieut. Pratt, with the Brighton crew and rockets and life-boat (which latter was found upon her arrival not to be required), Mr. Stanbridge and the Hove crew, and Abraham Hart Youngs, chief boatman of Fishergate, and his crew, proceeded to her assistance, and rescued the whole of the crew. The gallant conduct of Abraham Hart Youngs was very conspicuous, he having been hauled on board through a heavy surf, in which he had also to contend with the malevolent efforts of some fishermen to detain him and throw him down; he, however, succeeded in slinging the crew and landing them.

JAMES DORAN, SEAMAN,

January, 1843.

On the 5th of January, 1843, James Doran, an able seaman of H.M.S. 'Vanguard,' at Port Mahon, perilled his own life to save that of a shipmate, in a manner that called forth the admiration of the whole of the officers and crew of that ship. It blew a violent gale of wind at N. by E.; the top-masts were struck, and when at its greatest fury, a man fell overboard who could not swim. James Doran gallantly dashed into the sea, and succeeded in bringing the poor fellow alongside, although he was quite dead from the effects of his submersion.

MR. THOMAS DAVIS, MATE, R.N., AND JOSEPH BRATHWAITE, SEAMAN, R.N., BANTRY BAY,

January, 1844.

In the month of January, 1844, Her Majesty's steamer 'Flamer' was lying at anchor in Bantry Bay, when the jolly-boat belonging to that vessel was capsized through the boys letting go the brails too soon, while in the act of wearing. The life of one of the boys was saved through the coolness of Mr. Thomas Davis, mate of the 'Flamer,' who was in the boat at the time. Instead of swimming for the ship, he remained with the boy until assistance reached him. Joseph Brathwaite, sailmaker, seeing the other boy was sinking, instantly jumped overboard and brought him on board in a senseless state. He had, on a previous occasion, been the means of saving two lives. It was blowing very hard at the time, which rendered their services more difficult.

MR. W. C. GEARY, MATE, R.N., GULF OF EGINA,

August, 1844.

On the 24th August, 1844, a tender belonging to Her Majesty's surveying-vessel 'Beacon,' in charge of Mr. W. C. Geary, mate, was occupied in taking soundings in the Gulf of Egeria. In reefing the mainsail, the iron strop round the gaff, to which the peak-halliards are hooked, was carried away, and the gaff, in descending, struck John M'Cardle, seaman, who was standing to leeward, so violently on the head, that he was stunned, and fell overboard. Mr. Geary, who was abaft, immediately jumped after him, and getting hold of him under his arm, succeeded in keeping his head above water until picked up by a boat sent from the vessel.

LIEUT. F. P. WARREN, R.N., IN MADRAS ROADS,

June, 1845.

On the 9th of June, 1845, John Newman, seaman, serving on board H.M.S. 'Fox,' in the Madras Roads, fell from the mizen top-sail yard overboard, whilst exercising, striking, in his descent, the davit-guy, breaking both collar-bones, and bruising his head; and in this state most probably would have been drowned had it not been for the prompt assistance afforded him by Lieut. F. P. Warren, R.N., who sprang into the water, and succeeded in sustaining the man above the surface until a boat picked them up. The usual heavy Madras swell was running at the time.

LIEUT. WILLIAM E. FISHER, R.N., COVE OF CORK,

November, 1845.

On the night of the 17th November, 1845, a seaman, one of the gig's crew of the 'Crocodile,' flag-ship, at the Cove of Cork, when walking on the stage leading to the 'Predonia,' merchant-vessel, alongside of which his boat was temporarily made fast, having slipped, fell into the river, a strong tide and heavy sea on at the time, the night dark, and blowing a terrific gale. Mr. W. E. Fisher, senior mate of H.M.S. 'Crocodile,' the officer in charge of the boat, observing that the man was stunned from the fall, and unable to assist himself, leaped from the deck of the 'Predonia,' swam to his assistance, and with great exertions brought him on shore in a senseless state. It was a considerable time before the man recovered, and the gallant officer was so much exhausted that it nearly cost him his life.

LIEUT. HENRY W. HIRE, R.N., MEDITERRANEAN,

December, 1845.

On the 12th December, 1845, William Richardson, A.B., of Her Majesty's steam-sloop 'Hecla,' was washed off the forecastle, whilst securing the anchor, between the islands of Cyprus and Rhodes: a heavy sea was running at the time. The ship was backed and stopped within a short distance of the unfortunate man, who was then exhausted, and on the point of going down, when Mr. Henry W. Hire, First-lieutenant, in a most gallant manner, at the risk of his own life, jumped overboard, and supported him until a boat was lowered that picked them both up.

COMMANDER WOOLDRIDGE AND MR. BIRTWHISTLE, MATE, R.N., SHEERNESS,

June, 1845.

On the 9th June, 1845, whilst at anchor off Sheerness, when reefing, owing to a point slipping through the hand of one of the seamen, he fell from the fore-topsail yard of H.M.S. 'Spy' overboard, striking the fore-rigging and spars in the chains, broke his arm, and received violent contusions in many parts of his body. Lieut.-Commander Wooldridge, being on deck and seeing the man sinking, jumped after him, dressed as he was, with the hope of getting a rope round him; finding, however, when he was in the water, from having heavy clothes on and a thick pair of wash-deck shoes, and not being a very good swimmer, he was too heavy to trust himself too near a sinking man, he swam round him, occasionally lifting him, and encouraging him by talking to him. Mr. Birtwhistle, mate, the moment he saw the danger, threw off his jacket and shoes, and sprang after them, and being a strong swimmer and disencumbered, kept the man up. The tide was running very strong at the time, and they had thereby drifted about four times the 'Spy's' length from her, when they were all eventually picked up in a very exhausted state by a boat crossing the harbour.

LIEUT. NEWMAN, R.N., AND BOAT'S CREW, COAST-GUARD, DUNGENESS,

January, 1846.

The 'New Flora' pilot-boat of Dover was wrecked at Dungeness on the 22nd January, 1846. On the circumstance being made known to Lieut. Newman, R.N., of the Dymchurch Coast-guard station, by one of the men who had providentially succeeded in swimming on shore through the surf, he proceeded immediately to the spot, and ordered his boat to be drawn round by land, a distance of a mile and a half, to a convenient place for launching, where she was manned by the lieutenant with a hardy crew of five men. After buffeting for some time with the waves, they succeeded in reaching the ill-fated vessel, and found the boats washed away, and the crew, consisting of five men, obliged to take to the rigging, the sea making a clean sweep over her, and thereby rendering it very hazardous for the galley to approach. The gallant commander and tars, nothing daunted, determined to rescue their fellow-creatures, which they ultimately effected.

MR. F. S. GIBSON, R.N., GRAND BASSA, AFRICA,

January, 1846.

On the 12th of January, 1846, while crossing the Grand Bassa, in Liberia (Africa), one of the 'Lily's' boats, containing Mr. F. S. Gibson, paymaster and purser, and five other men belonging to the said sloop, was pulling for the mouth of the river; and when in the act of crossing the bar, the rollers broke heavily, and the sea washed over the stern of the boat and capsized it. Soon after the accident one of the crew, James Monk, was missing, when Mr. Gibson plunged in, dived, and, with the greatest difficulty and exertion, swam with him to the boat, very much exhausted.

LIEUT. TATHAM, R.N., CHATHAM,

April, 1846.

On the night of the 22nd April, 1846, a marine fell into the river Medway from H.M.S. 'Raleigh,' and was rescued by the timely assistance of Lieut. Edward Tatham, who, leaving his bed, lowered himself down the vessel's side, and supported the man (who had also hold of a rope) until a boat picked up both in an exhausted state.

COMMANDER J. W. FINCH, R.N., PORTSMOUTH,

July, 1846.

On the 16th July, 1846, as James Bradford, a seaman, was casting loose the frapping of the jolly-boat on the starboard quarter of the 'Naiad,' 64-gun frigate, under the command of Lieut. J. W. Finch, the boat swung or heeled over, and the man fell over the bows into the water at a time when the tide was running with unusual strength out of the harbour, and the wind blowing nearly half a gale. The cry of "A man overboard!" was instantly raised, when Lieut. Finch, who was in his cabin dressing at the time, looked out and saw the man struggling with the tide. He threw off what garments encumbered him, and plunged through the port into the water. At this time Bradford had sunk twice, and was carried at a rapid rate from the ship, being no swimmer. Mr. Finch, however, followed, and persevered in his humane exertions to save the man's life, in which he happily succeeded, after being in the water a quarter of an hour, and got his man (to all appearance dead) on board a victualling-hoy, where the usual remedies were applied.

This was not the first time Mr. Finch had similarly risked his own life to save that of his fellow-creatures. In 1840 he, assisted by three others, saved the crew of a vessel, wrecked off Seaham, and received the honorary bronze medal of the Royal Humane Society.

MR. CHARLES E. H. FARRANT, MASTER'S ASSISTANT, R.N., VALPARAISO,

September, 1848.

On the 5th September, 1848, at 5 A.M., whilst H.M.S. 'Samson' was at anchor off Valparaiso, James Smith, private marine, then engaged stopping his hammock on the gantlin, lost his balance, and fell overboard. It being quite dark at the time, and he not able to swim, with a heavy swell and a set of current out of the bay, he was carried away from the ship; when Mr. Farrant, master's assistant, mate of the watch (a young officer only 17 years of age, and at sea for the first time), ran to the sponson, and, observing that the man was in imminent danger, instantly jumped overboard into 30 fathoms' water, and swam to his assistance. Some minutes elapsed before Mr. Farrant could reach him. He at length succeeded in getting hold of the man, and had made considerable progress on his return to the ship with him, when a boat reached them, but not until after he had been taken twice or thrice under water, through the man clinging so closely to him.

LIEUTENANT SHERARD OSBORNE, R.N., PORTSMOUTH,

September, 1848.

On the 20th September, 1848, while H.M.S. 'Dwarf' was fitting out in the basin of Portsmouth Dockyard (the depth of water at the time being 27 feet), the attention of Lieutenant Sherard Osborne was suddenly drawn to the cry of "A boy overboard!" when, without the slightest preparation, but with his full uniform on, including his sword, he jumped in, and catching at a rope (which, however, proved not to be made fast to the vessel), he saved a second-class boy of the same ship, who, but for the gallant conduct of Lieutenant Osborne, must inevitably have been drowned.

HENRY LAUGHRIN, BOATSWAIN'S MATE, H.M.S. 'CALLIOPE,' RIO DE JANEIRO,

November, 1848.

On the 1st November, 1848, Captain Edward Stanley, of H.M.S. 'Calliope,' whilst returning from the shore to his ship in his gig, was upset, together with the rest of his boat's crew, owing to the boat being caught aback in a sudden squall; when Henry Laughrin, boatswain's mate of the same ship, gallantly jumped overboard at the risk of his own life, and saved Captain Stanley, whose life was greatly endangered (though an expert swimmer) by a man clinging to him. Several of the boat's crew were also rescued by the noble conduct displayed by Laughrin.

This was the third instance of Laughrin's courage and humanity, he having saved the lives of two shipmates in the years 1845 and 1848.

JOHN HUGGINS, QUARTER-MASTER OF H.M.S. 'SCOURGE,' TRINIDAD, ETC.,

February, 1849.

In February, 1849, whilst H.M.S. 'Scourge' was at anchor off the island of Trinidad, a boy named Thomas Burgess, of the same ship, fell overboard, when John Huggins, quartermaster, prompted by the most gallant spirit, instantly jumped overboard, and, by diving, fortunately rescued the boy from drowning, but not without encountering very great risk of his own life, owing to the number of sharks which infest those waters. Independent of this gallant act, Huggins, during his short career at sea (being still a very young man) had, by his humane and meritorious conduct, been fortunate enough to save at different periods eleven lives.

COMMANDER J. W. TARLETON, R.N., GENOA,

March, 1849.

On the 21st March, 1849, a seaman named Hayes, whilst employed painting ship at Genoa, fell overboard, and not being able to swim, would inevitably have been drowned before assistance could have reached him but for the intrepid and gallant conduct of Commander J. W. Tarleton, R.N., of H.M.S. 'Vengeance,' who instantly jumped overboard from his cabin-port and succeeded in saving the poor fellow from a watery grave, and he was promptly got on board again, to the delight of all hands. The praiseworthy and noble act obtained for Commander Tarleton the admiration of every one in the ship.

He had previously received the thanks of the American Government for his exertions in 1847, when he went to the assistance of the crew of the U.S. brig 'Somers,' which foundered off the port of Vera Cruz.

COMMANDER OLIVER JONES, R.N., COVE OF CORK,

March, 1849.

On the 24th March, 1849, as H.M.S. 'Ganges' was lying at the outer anchorage of the Cove of Cork, Edward Galloway, a seaman belonging to that ship, fell from the futtock shrouds into the water, striking several times against the rigging and the ship's side, when Lieut. Oliver Jones immediately ordered Fisbee's life-buoy's ropes to be thrown to him; but the man, who was stunned by the fall, was unable to avail himself of the use of them, and sank in between nine and ten fathoms; upon which Lieut. Oliver Jones, in the most gallant manner, at great risk of his own life, leaped overboard, and dived after him, and brought him up in a state of insensibility, and held him until further assistance was procured. But for the prompt and spirited conduct of this officer, the man's life would have been lost.

Lieut. Oliver Jones had previously saved the life of a seaman belonging to H.M.S. 'Melville,' in Halifax harbour, on the 4th June, 1837.

LIEUT. C. S. STANHOPE, R.N., H.M.S. 'ASIA,' AT SEA,

August, 1850.

On the 7th August, 1850, on the passage from Valparaiso to Pisco, in lat. 19° south, and long. 75° west, about 6 P.M., while exercising furling sails, two men fell overboard from the main-top-sail yard. One of these men caught hold of a rope and was saved unhurt: the other man in his fall struck his head against the main channel, and fell into the water senseless, but not dead.

Lieut. C. S. Stanhope, being then on the poop, saw his helpless state, and immediately, with great coolness and excellent judgment, jumped into the main channel, and thence overboard, to save the wounded man from drowning.

Lieut. Stanhope, supporting the man in the water, swam with him to a life-buoy which had been let go on the first alarm, where he remained with the man until brought on board by the boats which were lowered.

MR. T. H. JULIAN, SECOND-MASTER, R.N., PLYMOUTH,

July, 1851.

On the 15th July, 1851, a boy named Stephens, belonging to H.M.S. 'St. George,' at Hamoaze, fell overboard, and as the tide was running strong, he soon drifted away. A seaman named Boyd jumped after him, but not being able to swim, could render little assistance; both being, therefore, in a perilous situation, Mr. T. H Julian, second master, the officer of the watch, gallantly plunged overboard, and providentially sustained them, until rescued by a boat when at a considerable distance.

Mr. Julian was full dressed. This was not the first instance of his gallant and humane conduct.

LIEUT. SAUMAREZ, R.N., H.M.S. 'VOLCANO,' OFF SIERRA LEONE, AFRICA,

March, 1851.

On the evening of the 31st of March, 1851, a seaman named Sullivan, of H.M.S. 'Volcano,' fell overboard off Sierra Leone, while under weigh. Lieut. Saumarez, who was in the gun-room at the time, on the alarm being given, instantly rushed on deck, jumped overboard, and succeeded, after much difficulty, in rescuing him. Lieut. Saumarez has, in several instances, displayed similar acts of bravery in saving the lives of his fellow-creatures.

CHARLES LOXTON, SAILMAKER's MATE, H.M.S. 'ROLLA,' DOVER,

August, 1851.

On the 26th of August, 1851, while H.M. brig 'Rolla' was proceeding into Dover Hoads, at a distance of six miles from shore, and going at the rate of four knots, with studding sails set on both sides, a naval apprentice, in descending from the main rigging, accidentally fell overboard, when Charles Loxton, a sail-maker's mate, gallantly jumped overboard and succeeded in reaching him, and, after severe exertion, swam with him to the line of the patent log which was towing astern, where he continued to hold the boy with cool presence of mind until assistance arrived: the crew being at breakfast, a quarter of an hour elapsed before the ship was rounded to and a boat lowered, and when hauled in, Loxton was completely exhausted.

MR. SKEAD, SECOND-MASTER, AND MR. LAMBE, MIDSHIPMAN, R.N., OF H.M.S. 'TRAFALGAR,' OFF MALTA,

1852.

On the afternoon of the 5th of February, 1852, while H.M.S. 'Trafalgar,' Captain Greville, was going through a heavy sea off Malta, Mr. Sheepshanks, a cadet, lost his balance while sky-larking on the poop, and fell from the upper-stern gallery into the sea. The alarm was instantly given, when the second master, Mr. Skead, plunged from the gun-room port, and picking up a chair that had been thrown overboard, he swam towards the drowning lad: on his approach, the boy, exhausted, gave a scream, and sunk; but quickly rising, Mr. Skead was enabled to push the chair within his grasp, and, throwing himself on his back, he continued to support him until assistance arrived. In the meantime Mr. Lambe, midshipman, jumped off the poop, a height of upwards of 40 feet, and ultimately succeeded in saving his little messmate and Mr. Skead, who, from his great exertions, was taken into the boat in a state of convulsions.

On being asked by Captain Greville, why he had encountered so much danger, Lambe gallantly replied, "Oh, Sir, young Sheepshanks is the pet of the mess; we could not afford to lose him, at any rate!"

MR. WARD, BOATSWAIN, R.N., H.M.S. 'GLADIATOR,' AFRICA,

1851.

On the coast of Africa, the 28th May, 1851, W. McCarthy, a seaman belonging to H.M.S. 'Gladiator,' fell from the fore sponson overboard. Mr. Ward, boatswain, without a moment's hesitation, gallantly plunged after him, and, although the ship was going at the rate of nine knots an hour, succeeded in holding him above water until assistance arrived: this making the ninth person Mr. Ward, by his intrepidity, has rescued.

COMMANDER ALAN H. GARDNER, H.M.S. 'WATERWITCH,' AFRICA,

1851.

On the 7th of October, 1851, at 8 P.M., as H.M.S. 'Waterwitch' was anchoring at Monrovia, on the west coast of Africa, a boy named Clarke, fell overboard out of the forerigging. Commander Gardner, though dressed in heavy blanket clothes and thick boots, immediately jumped overboard and saved the boy. There was a strong tide running, and it was perfectly dark: the boy's struggles were so great, and so much time elapsed before assistance could reach them, owing to the sailors being aloft furling sails, that they were both in the act of sinking, and Captain Gardner was taken up almost lifeless.

LIEUT. PYNE, R.N., H.M.S. 'PRINCE REGENT,' LISBON,

December, 1851.

On the 26th of December, 1851, at Lisbon, a seaman named Edward Clements, let go his hold on the mainyard and fell with a fearful crash on the lower-port deck, and from thence overboard; Mr. Frederick Pyne, mate of the upper deck, immediately sprang from the starboard gangway after him, and swam, to his assistance; but having on the whole of his uniform, had great difficulty in keeping Clements up; the only boat near was Captain Halstead's gig, which was on the port side; he sunk twice, the poor fellow he supported being so heavy from the effects of the fall. Captain Caldwell, seeing the danger of both officer and man, plunged in to their aid; and by this time the dingy, and Captain Halstead's gig rescued them from, their perilous situation. This is the third instance in which Mr. Pyne has been the means of rescuing a fellow-creature under similar circumstances.

MR. SULLIVAN, MIDSHIPMAN OF H.M.S. 'MEGÆRA,' AT SEA,

1852.

On the 29th of May, 1852, four days after the departure of H.M.S. 'Megæra,' from St. Vincent, an act of great daring was performed. The ship was going seven knots through the water, when William Tizzard, captain of the fore-top, in the performance of his duty, unfortunately fell overboard from the main-yard. Mr. Sullivan, midshipman of H.M.S. 'Megæra,' with all his clothes on, immediately jumped from the poop, a height of 20 feet, into the sea, and happily succeeded in seizing the man, who could not swim, conveying him to a life-buoy, and keeping him above water until they were both secured by the ship's boats.

COMMANDER TARLETON, H.M.S. 'FOX,' RANGOON,

1852.

On Saturday morning the 2nd of October, 1852, a seaman, whilst employed in painting the ship at Rangoon, missed his footing and fell overboard, and not being able to swim, must have perished, but for the promptitude and humanity of Commander Tarleton, of H.M.S. 'Fox,' who instantly jumped from his cabin window, and succeeded in saving the poor fellow from a watery grave.

This was the second occasion on which Commander Tarleton saved a seaman's life under similar circumstances.