Antony Waymouth; Or, The Gentlemen Adventurers

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Some way to the north was another wide extending ledge of rocks, towards which it appeared that the unfortunate ship was drifting; but even should she escape that particular lodge and drive on the beach, the chance that any of those on board would escape was small indeed, for so high were the rollers and so powerful the reflux that once within their influence the stoutest ship could not hold together many minutes, and should any living beings washed towards the shore escape being dashed to pieces or killed by the broken planks and spars, they would be carried again out to sea and lost. Edward and Dick Lizard saw clearly this state of things, but they were not in consequence deterred from attempting to perform their errand of mercy. They also saw that if they would be successful there must be no delay. Each man having secured his oar with a rope, and himself to his seat by the same means, Edward gave the sign to the Portugals to shove off the boat. With loud shouts they placed their shoulders under her sides, and then, shrieking and grunting in concert, they almost lifted her along the sand till she floated, when the English prisoners bringing their oars into play shoved her off into the middle of the basin. Dick Lizard took the helm, while Edward stood up to judge of the best moment for crossing through the breakers. The crew went, steadily to their work. No one was ignorant of the danger to be gone through. At the entrance of the little harbour a white wall of water rose up before them, curling round and topped with masses of glittering foam, which fell in dense showers, blown by the gale over them, tending to blind and bewilder even the most experienced seaman of the party. Edward was at first in despair of finding a channel through which the boat could by any possibility pass and live. Some of the Portugals had, however, assured him that at times between the intervals of the heavier seas he would be able to get through, and he resolved to persevere if his men were ready to do so.

“Ready, ay, ready, every one of us, Master Raymond,” answered Dick Lizard, after the briefest of consultations with his comrades. “Where’s the odds? We can but die once, whether with a Portugal’s bullet through us, or by the vomito prèito or under yonder foaming seas—what matters it? An’ you wish to go, we, to a man, will go too.”

“Thanks, my brave lads; and now, when I order you to give way, give way you must, or be ready to back water at the word,” exclaimed Edward, standing up in the stern-sheets of the boat so as to command a view over the mass of seething, raging, roaring water which rose before him. Sea after sea rolled in, and with a voice of thunder broke on the rocks with a force sufficient, it seemed, to dash them to fragments; but, placed there by the hand of Omnipotence to curb the fury of the wild ocean, the proud waters were hurled back upon themselves again and again, unable to gain a foot on their fixed confines, shattered into minute atoms of foam which the wind bore far away on its fleet wings, while the iron rocks remained fixed as of old, laughing to scorn their reiterated attacks.

The ship meantime was approaching nearer and nearer to the shore. Had she been drifting directly on it, she would by that time have been cast helpless on the stern rocks, but happily part of her foremast was still standing, on which a sail being set, her course was somewhat diagonal, and she was therefore longer in reaching her impending fate than had at first appeared likely to be the case. Now she rose on the summit of a foaming sea, now she sank into the hollow, seemingly as if never to appear again; but bravely she struggled on, like a being endued with life, resolved to battle to the last, yet knowing that destruction was inevitable. Edward observed that although at first there appeared to be no difference in the height of the rollers, yet that after a time several of less apparent strength came tumbling in unbroken till they actually touched the rocks, leaving a narrow yet clear space between them. Through this space he determined to urge his boat. He pulled down to the very mouth of the harbour; the crew lay on their oars. A huge sea came roaring on majestically, and breaking into foam almost overwhelmed the boat. Directly afterwards the clear channel appeared.

“Give way, give way, brave lads!” shouted Edward.

The boat sprang on. Immediate destruction or success awaited them. The blades of the oars were concealed amid the seething waters on either side, and the foam came bubbling up over the gunwales, but the boat still held her course outward. She rose towards the summit of a lofty sea; the men strained every nerve. Up she climbed; then downward she slid rapidly to meet another sea, up which she worked her way as before. Another and another appeared in rapid succession; she surmounted them all, and the open ocean was gained.

Having gained a sufficient distance from the land, they had to keep along shore with the sea stream—a dangerous position, as, should the boat be caught by a roller, she would most certainly be turned over and over till she was dashed in fragments on the beach. On they came to the ship, plunging through the seas, and appearing as if every instant would be her last, even before she could reach the fatal strand. As they drew near they could distinguish the people on board in various attitudes indicative of despair. There were many hapless beings—sailors, soldiers, civilians, and women and children, some infants in arms, all full of life, and yet, ere many fleeting minutes could pass away, to be numbered with the dead. One last desperate effort was, it was seen, now made by the crew of the ship to save their lives. Two anchors were let go, the cables flying out like lightning from the bows, while at the same moment gleaming axes cut away the remaining part of the foremast, which plunged free of the ship into the sea. It was a well-executed, seamanlike manoeuvre. The stout ship was brought up, and although she plunged with her lofty bow almost under the seas, it seemed that her anchors were about to hold her. Hope revived in the breasts of those on board. Edward and his brave companions pulled alongside; ropes were hove to them, and they maintained the position they had gained, although in the greatest possible peril of being swamped. To climb up to the deck of the ship was almost impossible, but Raymond shouted out that he was ready to convey as many of the passengers to the shore as were willing to trust themselves to his charge. Many of those who but a short time before had given way to despair were now unwilling to leave the stout ship which still floated under them for a small open boat. Some who had less confidence in the power of the anchors to hold the ship, hurried to the side, and showed by their gestures that they wished to enter the boat. Without assistance, however, to make the attempt were madness, and the Portugal seamen exhibited no intention of helping them.

“I’ll do it, Master Raymond,” cried Dick Lizard, seizing a rope which hung over the side, and with a nimbleness which alone prevented him from being crushed between the boat and the ship he climbed up over her bulwarks. Two seamen followed his example.

Several more persons came crowding to the side of the vessel on seeing the hardihood of the British seamen in venturing to their assistance. Dick seized the person he found nearest to him as he leaped on deck. It was a young girl. She was clasping the arm of a grey-headed, tall old man, who seemed to be her father.