Thirty-fourth.—SAMUEL DAVIS. (Nov. 6, 1850.)
He was employed on board a 'mud tug' that was used for removing mud from Hull Harbour into the Humber. I saw this tug in a sinking state, and called out to the men to escape from her at once. All left her and got into a boat, except Davis; he was rather lame, but had time enough to make his escape as well as the rest. The men had not left the 'tug' more than five minutes, when she capsized, and Davis was thrown into the water. I was on board a 'tow boat' at the time, and between the drowning man and myself, there lay three heavily-loaded ballast lighters. I turned my steamer astern, and by jumping from one lighter to another, I soon reached Davis. I felt confident I could save him, and having a mud scraper in my hand, I threw the end of it to him, and said, 'Now, don't be afraid, you'll soon be all right.' I did save him, but alas!—and my hand trembles while I write it—the first utterance that fell from his lips was a fearful oath, 'D—— my eyes!' O, how grieved I was to hear a man, just at the point of death, utter such an expression. We soon got him on board of our packet, and put him in some warm and dry clothes. On Friday night, December the 6th, 1867, a fire broke out in Hull, and my son Joseph, was there, and sprung the rattle, giving the alarm, and the first man that came to the spot was Davis. One of my son's companions called out, 'Ellerthorpe!' when Davis said, 'Is John Ellerthorpe that young man's father?' 'Yes,' was the reply. 'Ah!' said Davis, 'he saved my life, and but for him I should not have been here to-night.' I trust the Lord will yet save him, and that I shall meet him and others whom I have rescued, at the right hand of the great Judge.
Thirty-fifth.—A BOY—NAME UNKNOWN.* (1850.)
At this time I was captain of the Hull Dock steam tug. One night, about eleven o'clock, the railway goods station was on fire, and I was summoned from my bed to go and remove our packet, which was moored close to where the fire had broken out. In the space of two hours, three men fell overboard, all of whom I rescued, with the assistance of others. Soon after I had to take the Dock Company's fire-engine on board our packet, as they could not find enough water on shore. The wind was blowing a heavy gale, and before I could get the packet to a convenient place, sufficient water had been found, and the engine was not needed. While I was busy with the packet, a man was drowned, and I felt greatly distressed on his account. So I went and sat down on the paddle-box and placed a boat hook at my side, to be ready should any one fall into the water. I had not sat many moments when I saw a youth, about seventeen years of age, fall overboard. I jumped from the paddle-box on to the dock wall, and ran as fast as I could to the spot. While the fire was blazing before me I could see the boy distinctly, but when I got past the fire it was pitchy dark, and I lost all trace of the drowning youth. Thousands of people were thronging and shouting in every direction, and I lost all hopes of saving the youth, who was now submerged in the water. But when I could not get any further, for the press of the people, I threw in the boat hook; it was eighteen feet long and the tide was very high. I knelt with one knee on the wall, and felt the boy at about fifteen feet under water. The hook caught the bottom of his waistcort, and I felt him take hold of it with both his hands. I never could ascertain the boy's name, but the whole case was fully reported in the local newspapers at the time, and hundreds, yea, thousands of people now in Hull, well remember it. Witnessed by thousands.
Thirty-sixth.—GEORGE PEPPER.* (1852.)
George was the son of my shipmate, who witnessed the whole affair. He was a scholar in the Trinity House school, but it being Easter Monday, he had a holiday, and came to spend the afternoon on board, with his father. The packet started suddenly, and the rope by which she had been fastened to the pier, struck the boy, and overboard he went. The packet was in motion, but I leaped into the water, while George's father went to fetch a boat hook, but it is my opinion the boy would have been drowned had I waited for the hook. The boy's father was a good swimmer, but he has often told me that he always wanted to think a few moments before he durst leap into the water. However, I saved his son in a few moments, and without much difficulty; indeed, when his mother said to him, 'George, what did you think when you was in the water?' he replied, 'O, mother, I hadn't time to think, for Mr. Ellerthorpe caught me directly.' Next morning, George was ready for school and I was ready for my work, and scarcely any one knew aught of the affair. The fact was, both Pepper and myself were to blame in not warning the boy of the danger that had nearly cost him his life. George is now a young man, and sails, I believe, from the port of Hull, and he seems to think as much of his deliverance now as he did fifteen years ago. Witness—Henry Bolton.
Thirty-seventh.—ROBERT WOODMAN.* (1854.)
He was a youth belonging to the brig 'Janet,' of South Shields, which was leaving the Victoria Dock, Hull, and he had the misfortune, while unfastening the check-rope, attached to the 'Dolphin,' to fall overboard. For some time he struggled in the water, helpless, and it was apparent that he was drowning. At the time I was on board the Dock Company's tug, which was about thirty yards from the spot, when, fortunately, I happened to see the youth, and I immediately sprang into the water with all my clothes on. I succeeded in seizing the boy as he was sinking, and placed him in such a position as enabled me to keep him above the water, when I made the best of my way to the brig's boat, a few yards off. The poor lad, in his almost insensible state, got upon my head and clung to me tightly, and in a few moments, so entwined himself around my arms as to render me almost incapable of swimming, and the probability at that time was, that both of us would be drowned. I saw and felt my perilous position, as he threatened to draw me again into the water, by his desperate struggles; but at last, with the strength and force of desperation, I managed to reach the painter of the boat, which fortunately being 'taut' from the ring, enabled me to raise myself and the youth out of the water, and we were both got into the boat, though in a most exhausted condition; indeed I had to be conveyed home. The boy soon recovered and left the dock the next tide, and I never saw him again. But I wrote to the captain of the ship, and received this beautiful letter from the youth's father:—
My Dear Sir,—The captain of the brig 'Janet' has sent me the very kind letter from you, wishing to know the age and name of my boy, which I am glad to tell you. His name is Robert Woodman, and he is seventeen years of age. I live in London, and I am very sorry to tell you that it is not in my power to give you anything or I would most gladly have done so. But do accept my sincere thanks; and I do hope, Sir, that if it should please God to spare my son to manhood, that he will in some way present you a proof of his gratitude for the great deed of daring that you have done for him; for the captain said the boy could not have been saved had it not been for you. Please to accept my most grateful thanks for your great kindness to my poor boy. Yours truly, Woodman.
Now, I can truthfully say, that this letter paid me well for the great risk I had run, as it gave me great pleasure. Some time after, the 'Janet' returned to Hull, and I went on board to see if I could find the youth, but the bird had flown, for the captain told me he had run away from his ship, and that he had no idea where he was. The captain was glad to see me and wanted me to have a glass of grog, but I refused, having become, a short time before, a pledged abstainer from all intoxicating drinks.