Sixth.—ROBERT CLEGG. (1825.)
He was both owner and captain of the keel 'Ann Scarborough,' the vessel from which I lost the brush at Clark's Bit. He went one dark night to Moreton, and as he did not return at the time expected, I felt very uneasy about him, and at last I went on the bank of the Trent, in search of him. When I got near Moreton-bite, I thought I heard a groan; and after a long search I found my captain, drunk, half in the water and half on the bank. The tide was half flood, and was then rapidly rising, and had it risen a foot and a half higher, he must have been drowned, as nothing could have saved him. I struggled with him for three quarters of an hour, and after great exertions, I got him fairly on the bank. We were then a mile and a half from our vessel, and did not get on board until three o'clock next morning. A doctor had to be got, and soon the captain began to recover. But the keel was delayed two days. He was afraid lest his wife should get to know the cause of this delay, and he bound me to keep the affair a profound secret. But he often said, afterwards, 'Jack saved my life.' And I am quite sure I did, as no one came near us, and there was no other chance of his being rescued. I never allowed this case to be put in the list of those whom I have saved, but having given a true statement of the case, I think I shall be pardoned for giving it a permanent record here.
Seventh.—NAME NOT KNOWN.* (1826.)
THE COACHMAN.
He was a coachman, but his name I never knew. He was conducting some ladies on board the 'Sir Walter Scott,' when, being drunk, he fell overboard, between the smack and the wharf, Irongate, London. There were but seven feet depth of water, and I had to leap from a height of at least sixteen feet; but I succeeded in preserving him from what seemed certain death. He was covered with mud, but was soon washed, and got on some dry clothes. After I had changed my clothes, and drank a glass of whisky, I returned to the vessel, and the ladies and gentlemen gave me a thousand thanks. The captain's name was Nisbet, and ever afterwards he would have given me almost anything; whenever I met him in London, he used to call the attention of his passengers to me, and tell them what I had done. Many a time has he sent for me on board his vessel, and given me as much drink as I would take, and he used to say to the passengers, 'See! this young man jumped over our ship's rail, when there was not more than seven feet of water, and made a rope fast to a man when there was no other way of his being saved. If I had not seen it I could not have believed that any man could have done it.' He often said, 'Whenever you want a berth come to me and I will give you one.' Witnesses—Thomas Macha, Richard Boras.
Eighth.—CHARLES HIMSWORTH.* (1828.)
At this time, Himsworth and myself belonged to the brig 'Jubilee,' of Hull. We were bosom friends, and very fond of spreeing about, and spent much of our time when ashore in dancing parties and in ballrooms. Whether at Hull or in London, if we could but find a place where there was plenty of noise and a fiddle going, that was the place for us. We have often spent many days' hard earnings in a few hours, amid such scenes. On this occasion he fell from the bows of the 'Jubilee' while a strong ebb tide was running. I jumped in after him, and we both went under a tier of vessels that were hung at the buoy, Battle Bridge, London. We came to the surface, but were soon carried under another tier of vessels, and had not the mate have come to our assistance we should have gone under a third tier, but he came at the last extremity and saved us. Charles belonged to a very respectable family living at Snaith, where I once called to see his mother, who was a widow. Her son Thomas and I became intimate friends, after I had rescued Charles, and he often said he thought as much of me as he did of his own brother. Alas! the two brothers met with untimely deaths. On the morning of January the 25th, 18—, I saw Thomas put out to sea, and in about half an hour the boat capsized, and he and five other men were drowned. Charles got married, and became master of a vessel, but alas! he and the crew were drowned. Witnesses—William Howarth, Joseph Johnson.
Ninth.—JOHN KENT.* (1828.)
He was a native of Hull, and a shipmate of mine on board the 'Westmoreland.' While in a state of intoxication he jumped overboard into the Diamond Harbour, Quebec, intending to swim to land, but sank at a distance from the vessel. A boat, manned with foreigners, was passing at the time, and Captain Knill called to them to pick up Kent. They pulled the boat towards him, but Kent, in trying to lay hold of it, missed his grasp, and the next moment he was under the boat. The captain then called to us on the stage, and said, 'Be sharp with your boat, or the man will be drowned.' We did not then know who the man was, but, with the quickness of true sailors, we were in the boat in a minute. By this time he had been carried to a great distance from the ship, as the ebb tide was running strong and fast. I was forward in the boat, and on reaching the spot where he was last seen, I plunged under the water, and in a moment I saw the man, and was surprised to find it was my friend, John Kent. I dived to a depth of twenty-five feet, and had him right above me; I soon had hold of him, and though I had to swim against the ebb tide, we were soon at the boat's side, when I said to the men, 'Never mind me, pull him into the boat,' but he had such fast hold of my arm that they had to pull us in together, and even then it was with great difficulty they broke his hold of me. He was so far gone that for a long time we did not know whether he was living or dead. At length he showed signs of life, but recovered slowly, and did not work for several days. After twenty-five years' separation, I met Kent in the streets of Hull, and he remembered, with every mark of gratitude, his wonderful deliverance. My arm was much bruised, and almost as black as a coal. I could not lift it as high as my head, and I said to the captain, 'I am afraid I shall not be able to work to-day,' when he kindly said, 'Never mind the work, surely thou's done enough for one day; take care of thy arm,' and he gave me something with which to rub it. It remained stiff for a long time, and gave me great pain. I hope to be pardoned for adding that, I was a great favourite with Captain Knill, and spent many hours with him ashore when I ought to have been aboard taking in timber. He was a kind man and a good captain, and often, after my drunken sprees, he would call me down to the cabin and there talk to me as a father would talk to his son. And these friendly counsels produced a deep impression upon my mind, and did me far more good than a 'blowing up' would have done. Through respect for him, I used to guard against drink, but alas! I was often overcome. I cherish an undying respect for the memory of my dear Captain Knill. Witnesses—Captain J. Knill, John Hickson.