There the coastguard were ready to receive them, and did their best to revive the exhausted men. As soon as it was discovered at Margate that the first life-boat was disabled, the large life-boat, the Friend of all Nations, was got ready with every speed, and with much trouble dragged round to the lee side of the pier, where it was launched. Away she started, her brave crew doing all they could to battle with the gale, and force their way out to the wreck; but all their efforts were in vain; the tremendous wind was right against them; the sea completely overpowered them, and prevented their beating to windward; the tiller gave way, and after a hard struggle her crew had also to give up the attempt, and this life-boat in turn was driven ashore about one mile from the town. With both their life-boats wrecked, the Margate men almost gave up all hopes of saving the crew of the vessel and the men that were left on board; but this should not be the case until every possible effort had been made; but it was with small hope for the shipwrecked, and with much apprehension for the boats themselves, that the people watched two luggers—the Nelson and the Lively—undaunted by the fate of the life-boats, stagger out mid the sweeping seas to the rescue.
The fate of one lugger, the Nelson, was soon settled; a fearful squall of wind caught her before she had got many hundred yards clear of the pier; it swept her foremast out of her, and her crew had to make every possible effort to avoid being driven on the rocks, and there wrecked.
The Lively was more fortunate; she beat her way out to sea, but found so heavy a surf breaking over the Sands, that it was evidently impossible to cross them, or to get near the wreck.
The Margate people became full of despair, and many a bitter tear was shed for sympathy and for personal loss as they watched the wreck, and thought of the poor fellows perishing slowly before their eyes, apparently without any possibility of being saved.
A rumour spread among the crowd that the lieutenant of the coastguard had sent an express off to Ramsgate, for the Ramsgate steamer and life-boat; but this scarcely afforded any hope, as it was thought impossible that the steamer and life-boat could make their way round the North Foreland in the teeth of so tremendous a gale, or that, if they did so, it was supposed impossible that either the ship could hold together, or the crew live, exposed as they were in the rigging, during the time it would of necessity take the steamer and boat to get to them.
We now change the scene to Ramsgate.
From an early hour on the Monday morning, groups of boatmen assembled on the pier at Ramsgate; they were occasionally joined by some of the more hardy among the townsmen, or by a stray visitor, attracted by the wild scene that the storm presented.
The boatmen could faintly discern, in the intervals between the snow-squalls, a few vessels in the distance, running before the gale, and they were keenly on the watch for signals of distress, that they might hasten to the rescue.
But no such signal was given.