THE INTERNAL HISTORY OF THE TOWN.
And first we will notice some of the calamities with which it has been visited; these have been principally of four kinds: Plague, Fires, Civil dissentions, and Storms.
The Plague was felt in this town very severely at several times: probably in 1349, and certainly in 1547. In 1579, twice as many people died in Lowestoft as in 1578; and in 1579 the Plague raged at Yarmouth; the inference is pretty clear, this unwonted mortality was occasioned by the Plague. In 1603, 280 persons were buried in five months; and in 1635, the number of deaths during the year was considerably above the average, amounting to 170.
Several severe Fires have happened in the town. In 1606 the vicarage was destroyed, and with it, the town records. In March, 1644–45, property was consumed by fire to the value of £10,300; several fires of less magnitude have also done considerable damage.
The town could not engage in the various skirmishes with Yarmouth, Cromwell, and others, without suffering some of the natural evil consequences of War; but as we have already directed the attention of our readers to the engagements themselves, and to the nature of the contests in which the townsmen have striven, it may, perhaps, not be presuming too much, to leave it to their own imagination to realise the injury done to life and limb, and to public and private interests, by this greatest scourge of all, with which a town or kingdom can be visited.
It remains then for us to present a few memorials of the havoc committed by that element, the contiguity of which to our town, gives it the greatest charm in the eye of the visiter.
That mighty ocean which, for the most part, rolls so harmlessly on the beach, is sometimes excited and whipt into a fury, and then scenes of awful majesty, and sometimes of terror, are witnessed. These Storms are not so seldom experienced, as absolutely to necessitate the constant repetition of the same story to illustrate their fearful consequences; but there is one which,—though it has been several times printed—as it has been related by an eye-witness, with all that vividness with which an eye-witness alone could relate it, we think it most suitable to present. Our highly respected townsman, the late Robert Reeve, Esq., describing the storm of December 1770, says:—
“The dreadful storm on Wednesday the 19th instant, began about one o’clock in the morning, and continued with increasing violence till five; when the wind suddenly changed from the south-west to the north-west, and for two hours raged with a fury that was hardly ever equalled. Anchors and cables proved too feeble a security for the ships, which instantly parting from them, and running on board each other, produced a confusion, neither to be described nor conceived: not a few immediately foundered; others were dismasted, and none escaped unhurt. At daylight a scene of the most tragic distress was exhibited. Those who first beheld it assert, that no less than eighteen ships were on the sand before this place at one and the same time; and many others were seen to sink. Of those on the sand, one-half were entirely demolished, with their crews, before nine o’clock; the rest were preserved a few hours longer: but this dreadful pause served only to aggravate the destruction of the unhappy men who belonged to them, who betook themselves to the masts and rigging. These continually breaking, eight or ten were not unfrequently seen to perish at a time, without the possibility of being assisted. Fifteen only, about two in the afternoon, were taken off one of the wrecks; and about as many more were saved by taking to their boats, or getting on board other ships when they boarded each other. It is impossible to collect with certainty how many lives, or how many ships, were lost in this terrible hurricane. Twenty-five at least, perhaps thirty ships, and two hundred men, do not seem to be an exaggerated account. This, indeed, is too small a calculation, if credit is to be given to one of the seamen, who declares he saw six vessels sink not far without the Stanford, among which was a large ship bound for Lisbon, with sixty or seventy passengers on board. One or two of the ships which are lost belong to Yarmouth, and one to Plymouth; but the generality are colliers, and belong to Sunderland, Shields, and other places in the north.
“The concern this destructive scene occasioned to the spectators of it, was increased by the following circumstance. When the masts of one of the ships, on which were eight or nine men, fell, two of them were some time afterwards seen struggling among the wreck; and at length, after unremitted efforts, got upon the hull. In the afternoon, a pilot boat ventured from the shore; but it was found impracticable to administer any relief to the unfortunate sufferers, whom they were compelled to leave in their forlorn state; an approaching dark, cold, stormy night, heightened the horrors of their situation. The next day, to the astonishment of every body, one of the men was observed to be alive; and about noon the boat again attempted to save him, and approached so near as to ask the poor fellow several questions; but the hull on which he was, being surrounded with wreck, and the sea running very high, it was impossible to rescue him from the impending danger. He was at the stern of the ship: towards her head the sailors conceived it barely possible to board her with safety. This they told the unhappy man they would attempt, and bid him walk to the place; but replying that he was too weak to change his situation, they were again obliged to leave him, making signs of his inconceivable distress. The ensuing night put a period to his misfortunes and life.”
The following extracts from letters, written at the time, by the late Rev. B. Ritson, and the late G. Everett, Esq., and inserted in the public journals, have been supplied by Mr. H. B. Disney, one of the actors in the several scenes described. The letters indicate at once the humanity of the writers, the fearful character of the danger to which the unfortunate sufferers were exposed; and the heroic bravery of the hearts which faced the storms, to rescue fellow men from watery graves.
The following accounts are by the late Rev. B. Ritson, many years Curate of Lowestoft.
“On Sunday morning last (Oct. 22nd, 1820) a heavy gale of wind from SS. W. was experienced at Lowestoft, which, towards noon, had increased almost to a hurricane; the whole sea was one continued foam, and a most tremendous surf broke upon the shore. About twelve o’clock, the inhabitants of the town had the pain of witnessing the distress of a vessel, which, in attempting to gain the inner roads through the Stanford channel, struck upon a sand called the Beacon Ridge, and, in about seven minutes went to pieces, and all hands on board perished. A second vessel soon after followed, and, in making the same attempt, met with the same melancholy fate, and all the crew were lost. The loss of these two vessels, (names unknown) was so awfully sudden as to afford no time for assistance from shore.
“A third vessel, a sloop called the Sarah and Caroline, of Woodbridge, laden with coals, struck upon a sand called the Newcombe, and remained thereon with her mast standing; but, soon filling with water, the crew, consisting of five persons, took refuge in the shrouds. Here their situation was most perilous; for as it was only half ebb tide, with the wind tremendously strong, no assistance from shore could be afforded them until the following flood, supposing the vessel should hold together so long. In the mean time, every necessary preparation was made to render assistance, as soon as such an attempt should be in any measure practicable. The Lowestoft life-boat, belonging to the “Suffolk Humane Society,” was got out and manned under the direction of Lieutenant T. S. Carter, R.N. and when launched, was towed a considerable way to the southward, to bring her on a bearing with the vessel in distress. Still, however, when the tow was let go, the boat fell to leeward of the Wreck; and it was not until the tide began to flow, that she made any way towards attaining her object. At length, after the most persevering and strenuous exertions, she succeeded in gaining the wreck, and providentially took the poor fellows from the shrouds, just as one of them was about to drop from his hold through fatigue and cold.
“In approaching the sloop, the life-boat passed, and was hailed by a brig, coal laden, which, on her return she boarded, and found in a sinking state. She proved to be the George, of London, John Dixon, master, with seven hands on board. These were also taken into the life-boat; and, about six o’clock in the evening, the whole twelve persons were safely landed on the beach at Lowestoft, without the smallest accident whatever, amidst the congratulatory cheers and greetings of the anxious multitude who had been witnesses of the distress. The sloop’s mast fell about an hour after the men left it, and the brig sunk soon after.
“Too much praise cannot be given to Lieut. Carter, the pilots, and men on board the lifeboat, for their cool, steady, and intrepid conduct on this very trying emergency; to whom individually the Suffolk Humane Society have returned their thanks.” [26]
“On Friday, the 13th of January, 1815, at daybreak some of the Lowestoft Boatmen being on the look out, perceived a wreck lying among the breakers on the Corton sand, otherwise called the home sand, the wreck bearing E. S. E. from the Lowestoft Upper Light-house, and distant from shore about two miles. Three of the pilot yawls were soon manned and put off, to visit the wreck to ascertain whether there were any persons on board, and if so, to render whatever necessary assistance might be in their power. Upon approaching the wreck, the people in the yawls discovered three men on it, but at the same time found, to their great mortification, that by reason of a tremendous sea upon the sand, and the high surf and broken water surrounding, and frequently breaking over the wreck, it would be impossible for any yawl to get nearer without manifest hazard of being dashed to pieces. A signal being thrown out by one of the yawls that there were persons on the wreck, the life boat was got out and manned with the utmost expedition. The alacrity with which the brave seamen [27] leaped on board the life-boat is scarcely to be described; after encountering much difficulty and danger in passing through the breakers, they came near to the vessel in sight of hundreds of spectators, who, from the heights were beholding with astonishment their admirable nautical skill and dauntless courage; at the same time trembling between hope and fear for their safety, and lifting up a silent fervent prayer for the successful termination of their perilous undertaking. Heaven in its mercy smiled propitious on their endeavours, and rewarded the exertions of these brave men with success, and they had the heartfelt joy of bringing the three shipwrecked mariners to shore without any accident. The sloop was the Jeanie of Hull, laden with potatoes, and bound to London. She sailed from Hull on Thursday morning, and about twelve at night, when off Hasborough Gat, sprung a leak which gained so fast upon the crew that they were obliged to run on the sand to prevent her foundering.”
The late George Everitt, Esq. writes as follows—
“On the 26th of January, 1842, about one P.M., a vessel was observed to be in great distress, on the sand called the Inner Newcome, the wind at the time blowing a hurricane, and the sea running “mountains high.” The Lowestoft life-boat with a crew of nineteen men, commanded by Lieut. T. S. Carter, R.N., assisted by Mr. H. B. Disney, Trinity pilot, was most promptly launched, and proceeded to her relief. By the greatest exertion and skill, a communication, by means of a life line was established with the distressed men, who had fled to the rigging for safety; the sea at the time making quite over the life-boat, and filling her with water. Mr. Disney was washed overboard, but providentially did not loose his hold of the safety line, and was again drawn into the boat. Seven out of the eight men on board the wreck were hauled through the surf into the life-boat, a distance of perhaps twenty yards. At this time, the anchor of the life-boat came home, and with great difficulty and danger, the boat was sheered under the bowsprit of the wreck, when the cable was cut, and she then proceeded to the shore full of water, landing her own crew and the rescued men in safety. Lieut. Carter was carried in a very exhausted state to a house near, where the usual means having been resorted to, he was, after a few hours, so far restored as to be able to return to his residence in a chaise.
“Meantime, the Pakefield life-boat, manned by a crew endowed with the same high courage and good seamanship, which had characterized their neighbours, made further effort to save the poor fellow who was left on the wreck, and had the happiness of rescuing him from a watery grave. [29]
“Our Society, assisted by our brave seamen, has again the high satisfaction of being made the means of saving the lives of eight fellow creatures; and at a Committee meeting summoned for that purpose, on the morning of the following day, gave its “mite” of reward to the crews of the boats engaged in the perilous service, and their hearty thanks to Lieut. Carter and Mr. Disney. The Lowestoft life-boat sustained damage to a considerable amount.
“The Suffolk Humane Society (President, Sir T. S. Gooch, Bart.,) maintains and keeps in repair the two life-boats, and gives a stated sum to the crews whenever called into service, out of funds raised entirely by private subscriptions from Lowestoft and its neighbourhood, but which cannot afford adequate reward to the men for their intrepid service.”
The preceding quotations have sufficiently shewn the value of the Life-boat, and of that society by which it is maintained; no other eloquence, than that of such facts, is needed to commend the society to the kind consideration of the generous and humane.
Connected with the life-boat there are other contrivances, the object of which is, to render assistance to the shipwrecked mariner, when boats cannot approach sufficiently near: they are known as