Many fatal accidents have happened to life-boats; and the details of some mentioned by the lecturer are peculiar and interesting. On the coast of Northumberland, in 1810, one of Greathead's boats, after saving several crews of fishing-cobles, was returning to the shore, when a heavy sea overwhelmed her, and by its sheer weight and force broke her in two, and the whole of the crew, thirty-four in number, perished. In 1820, Greathead's original life-boat, after saving the crew of the ship Grafton, at Shields, struck on a rock, and swamped; nevertheless, the brave old boat—although she had not the boasted power of self-righting—preserved her centre of gravity, and brought both crews to land. At Scarborough, in 1836, the life-boat, in going out to a vessel, turned completely end over end, 'shutting up one of the crew inside, where he remained in safety, getting fresh air through the tubes in the bottom, and was taken out when the boat drifted, bottom upwards, on the beach: ten lives were lost.' In 1841, the life-boat at Blyth, Northumberland, capsized, and ten men were drowned. At Robin Hood's Bay, Yorkshire, in 1843, the life-boat capsized, three men remaining under her bottom, while others got upon it. The accident was seen from the shore, and five men put off in a coble, fitted with air-cases like a life-boat; but she almost immediately turned end over end, and two men were drowned. The life-boat herself drifted ashore, and the three men under her bottom were saved. In all, twelve lives were lost. But the most lamentable disaster that ever befell a life-boat was at South Shields, on December 4, 1849, when twenty-four men, all pilots, went off to rescue the crew of the Betsy, stranded on Herd Sand. 'The boat had reached the wreck, and was lying alongside with her head to the eastward, with a rope fast to the quarter, but the bow-fast not secured. The shipwrecked men were about to descend into the life-boat, when a heavy knot of sea, recoiling from the bow of the vessel, caught the bow of the boat and turned her up on end, throwing the whole crew and the water into the stern-sheets. The bow-fast not holding, the boat drove in this position astern of the vessel, when the ebb-tide, running rapidly into her stern, the boat completely turned end over end, and went on shore bottom up. On this occasion, twenty out of twenty-four—or double the proper crew—were drowned under the boat. On seeing the accident, two other life-boats immediately dashed off from North and South Shields, saved four of the men, and rescued the crew of the Betsy.' It is added, that the life-boats have been in constant use at Shields since Greathead first launched his boat there in 1790, and excepting the above accident, no life has ever been lost in them, or from want of them. Between 1841 and 1849, they saved 466 lives. But good is frequently educed from evil, and it was this very disaster at Shields that induced the Duke of Northumberland to offer a premium for the best life-boat; and his Grace has now, with princely liberality, undertaken to place a well-built life-boat at each of the most exposed points of the coast of his own county, with rockets or mortars at every intermediate station.
As to dimensions, the existing life-boats are of three classes: from 20 to 25 feet long, from 25 to 30 feet, and from 30 to 36 feet. Some are only 18 feet long, and on thinly-inhabited coasts are the best, as unless a regular crew is provided, it is often difficult to man a large boat—at least efficiently. The largest boats are used at Caistor and Corton, in Norfolk, and are 40 to 45 feet long, weigh from four to five tons, and cost L.200 to L.250 each. They are said to be admirable vessels of the kind, and well manned. The 36 feet boat is used at Yarmouth, Lowestoft, Deal, &c., and always goes off under sail. The 30 feet boat is used at Liverpool, Shields, Dundee, &c.; and one of those at Liverpool brought sixty people ashore on one occasion. Some of the models sent to the Exhibition were of boats that did not weigh more than half a ton; but we fully agree with the lecturer, that a boat so light as that would never be able to pull out to sea in a head-wind. A life-boat ought to possess a certain weight, or momentum, or it will be driven back by the winds, or sucked back by the sea, like a feather.
It is exceedingly desirable that all life-boats should have regularly trained crews, for an ordinary sailor or fisherman is by no means competent to do properly the duty of a life-boatman. The cockswain, especially should be well trained.
Captain Washington remarks, that 'a careful examination of the returns of wrecks by the Coast-guard officers, forcibly impresses on the mind the painful conviction, that the greater part of the casualties that occur are not occasioned by stress of weather, but that they are mainly attributable to causes within control, and to which a remedy might be applied.' This has long been our own opinion, and we have again and again expressed it. 'Wherever the boats have been looked after, and the crews well trained, as at Liverpool, Shields, and on the coasts of Norfolk and Suffolk, the most signal success has rewarded their exertions. The first step is to insure a safe and powerful life-boat, and this, we feel confident, has been accomplished; the next is to build a sufficient number of such boats, place them where required, organise and train the crews, and provide for their supervision and maintenance.... There seems no reason why a very few years should not see a life-boat stationed at each of the exposed points on the most frequented parts of the coasts of the United Kingdom; by means of which—with the blessing of Divine Providence upon the endeavours of those who undertake the work—the best results to the cause of humanity may confidently be anticipated.'
FOOTNOTES:
[2] Published by Bogue, Fleet Street.
THE SALONS OF PARIS.
News has just reached us from Paris of the death of Madame Sophie Gay. She was a writer of the half-historical, half-sentimental school of French fiction, of which Madame de Genlis, the Duchess d'Abrantes, and Madame de Souza were specimens more or less worthy; but in ease and grace, Madame Gay was superior to all we have mentioned. It is, in our minds, very affecting to witness the last lights of the ancient salons of Paris dropping out one by one. Mme Gay has herself, in a single volume published in 1837, entitled Salons Célèbres, left us a very beautiful picture of them as they were in their prime. We have translated—abridging, however, as we went—the opening chapters of this work, and may add a notice of more modern salons, as given by the lively pen of Mme Emile de Girardin—née Delphine Gay—daughter of Mme Sophie. The reader will judge whether the fashionable Frenchmen and Frenchwomen have really profited much by the storms and tempests that have gone over their heads. To be sure, Mme de Girardin's pictures were given twelve years ago; but we believe they would require little change, at least up to the conclusion of the Orleans reign in 1848. The volume from which these last extracts are made, is entitled Lettres Parisiennes. It has all the wit and talent of the cleverest of fashionable Frenchwomen. The tone is sometimes extremely good—better than we were led to expect; but the picture it presents is about as mournful a one as pictures of French frivolity usually are. We will, however, leave them to make their own impression. First, then, for Mme Sophie Gay and the ancient salons.