A fine boat, called the Northumberland, was speedily built by Mr. Beeching, and she immediately commenced a more memorable career than has ever fallen to the lot of any other boat—the stormy petrel of the sea—the pioneer of a work not more glorious than much which had been attempted, but which crowned almost every brave effort with abundant success, where science aided sympathy with all the fruits of her skill, so that the double cry of agony, where on the one hand there was lamentation for the shipwrecked and lost, and on the other a cry, if possible, even more piteous still, for those who perished in their efforts to save the shipwrecked—a cry that had been too often heard, was soon almost to cease from the land.
The early passage in the history of the Northumberland seemed to suggest that hers was to be a holiday existence, her career commenced with a round of triumphant display and popularity. She visited various parts of the coast, and all her properties were displayed, creating everywhere confidence in her powers, and enthusiasm at the thought of the stimulus to be given to the great work of saving life from shipwreck, by the possession of such a noble and efficient boat.
There was a great gathering at Ramsgate to witness the first public trial the boat was to be put through; naval officers, elder brethren of the Trinity House, scientific men of all services were interested deeply in the series of experiments to which she was to be subjected, for they all fully realized how the question of life or death to thousands, yea, in the course of time, to tens of thousands, was involved in the problem, as to whether any boat could be found competent to resist all the fury of a raging and broken sea.
The Northumberland was manned, and first her stability was to be tested; all her crew stood and jumped upon one gunwale, but failed to upset her; her self-righting property was next to be tried; they brought her under a crane, and passing a rope from her mast round her bottom, gradually hauled her over, and she was bottom up; they let go the strain on the rope, and in five seconds she had righted herself, and in twenty seconds more she had emptied herself of water. Again she was to be turned over, and this time fresh interest was to be excited in the experiment, as Mr. Samuel Beeching, the son of the inventor and builder of the boat, determined to show his confidence in her powers by being in her when she was upset: slowly the strain is again put upon the rope under-running the boat, and she gradually turns over, Mr. Beeching clinging to the centre thwart the while; a moment's suspense, the boat is keel up, and the brave man out of sight—scarcely time for a pang of fear, when the boat comes round with a throb, and the man is seen standing on the thwart, cheering in answer to the cheers with which the success of the experiment and his re-appearance are greeted.
Now for a trial at sea, among the bright leaping waves, which seem full of playfulness and glee, as if ready to greet her merrily, and to whisper no word of the many deadly conflicts she must wage with them in coming days, ere she shall snatch the spoil of human life from their rage and strength.
Strong arms are at the oars, the good ash staves bend, and away she shoots through the waves, holding her own successfully as other boats race with her.
Her sailing powers must be tried, and a revenue-cutter accepts her challenge; both bowl along with a fresh breeze bellying their sails, and the life-boat behaves well and bravely, and proves also a success under sail.
The breeze freshens, and there is a great bubble of leaping surf in the broken water in the angle of the pier; an ordinary boat would speedily be swamped there; but there the life-boat rides on the tumbling seas like a thing of life; every experiment increases the confidence that her crew and the lookers-on feel in the boat.
Seaward now for a sterner trial, and on the field where her numerous future contests are to be fought, and her numerous victories gained; out and away where the rolling seas break in upon the Goodwin Sands, and where they fret into surf as they are checked in their race, and make the sea white with the foam of their falling crests; away into the tumbling seas, running the gauntlet of the leaping waves; away, and away, she speeds round the north end of the Sands, then steers for the North Foreland, until all her crew are perfectly delighted with her powers, and return to describe the trip, and how she behaved, and the confidence they have in her, that they would not hesitate to go in her into any broken water whatever.