Crowds See the Niger Sink

[By a Correspondent of The London Daily Chronicle.]

DEAL, England, Nov. 11.—By the destruction of the British torpedo gunboat Niger, which was torpedoed and sunk by a submarine in the Downs this afternoon, the realities of war were brought home to the inhabitants of Deal and Walmer.

A loud explosion was heard from the gunboat as she lay off the Deal pier, and great volumes of smoke enveloped the vessel. When the smoke cleared the Niger was observed to be settling down forward. Men, women, and children rushed to the sea front, exclaiming that the vessel had been torpedoed or mined. They soon realized that the Niger was doomed. The Deal and Kingsdown lifeboats as well as boats from other parts of the beach were launched in an effort to save the sailors.

Consternation and almost panic prevailed among the hundreds who stood watching the ghastly sight from the beach. Fortunately, the North Deal galley Hope, commanded by Capt. John Budd, lay at anchor near the spot, waiting to land the pilot from a London steamer which was going down the channel. When the boatmen realized that the Niger had been hit by a submarine or mine, to use their own expression, they rowed like the very devil.

"We saw the sailors," said Capt. Budd, "jumping from the vessel's side in dozens. As we neared the fast-disappearing vessel we came upon swarms of men struggling in the sea and heroically helping to support each other. Some were fully dressed, others only partly so. They were clinging to pieces of wreckage and deck furniture, and some were in lifeboats.

"It was a heartrending spectacle. The men were so thick in the water that they grasped at our oars as we dipped them in the sea. We rescued so many and our own boat got so choked that we could not move. With our own gunwale only just out of the water, we were in danger of sinking ourselves.

"We called to the men that we could take no more in or we should sink ourselves, but they continued to pour over the sides, and some hung to the stern of our boat. We had about fifty on board. Never had there been so many in the boat before. One burly sailor, whom we told to wait until the next boat came along, laughingly remarked while he was in the water, 'All right, Cocky, I will hold on by my eyebrows,' and he drifted to another galley. Another Deal boat then came along and relieved us of some of our men.

"Suddenly we heard a shout, and, looking around, saw the commander of the Niger waving and beckoning to us from the stern of the sinking ship. We could not go to him because our craft was so heavily laden. Another galley then came along, and, after taking out some of our men, together with those who were hanging on to our sides, we went closer to the sinking gunboat and took off some more men, and at the Captain's special request we waited until he took a final look around to see if there were any more men left on board the vessel.

"By this time the ship was very nearly under water, and we shouted to him to hurry up, as the Niger had turned over on her side and was likely to go down at any moment. That brave Captain only just managed to jump in time, when the gunboat gave a lurch and sank on her side in eight fathoms of water. We were proud to rescue that Captain, for he was a true sailor."

The other boats which picked up men were the Maple Leaf, the motor boat Naru, the Annie, the May, and the Deal lifeboat.

The rescuing party saw one dead sailor floating by.

The majority of those rescued received first aid on being landed at North Deal, and then they were taken in ambulances to the Marine Hospital at Walmer.

One survivor, replying to a question as to whether the Niger was torpedoed or mined, replied:

"Torpedoed, Sir. With the exception of the watch and the gun crews all were below at the time. The first order we received was to close the watertight doors."

So far as I can ascertain at present only one man is missing. Four or five have been landed at Ramsgate. The crew is said to have numbered ninety-six officers and men.

The sinking of the Niger came with tragic swiftness. It was comparatively a fine, peaceful day, and the people were resting on the promenade enjoying sea and fresh air. Anglers—men and women—were calmly fishing from the pier. One angler whom I interviewed this evening said:

"I had just baited my line and cast it out when I heard two loud reports, like an explosion. I looked seaward and saw the Niger, only a mile away, enveloped in smoke or steam. When it had cleared away. I said to my fellow-anglers, 'Oh, he is letting off steam! When I looked at her again I was startled to notice that she was lower in the water. Fortunately I had slung across my shoulder a pair of glasses, and, on looking at the vessel through them, I noticed that they were attempting to lower the boats, while the remainder of the crew stood at attention on the deck. We could see that the vessel was sinking, and the lifeboats and other boats were hastening to the rescue.

"The vessel then gradually disappeared, bow first, and after about fifteen minutes not a sign of her remained."