Ben Hadden; or, Do Right Whatever Comes Of It

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“There, I feared that it would be so!” exclaimed John; “and if help don’t go to them before high water, not a soul of all on board will escape.”

Too true: the fine ship lay fast, her broadside struck again and again by the heavy seas, which came rolling in from the eastward.

“Jem, we must go to her!” exclaimed John Hadden suddenly. “Call your brothers, lad; it won’t do to let these poor fellows perish for want of help.”

Scarcely two minutes passed after this, before John Hadden and his five sons—for Ben also went—were launching their yawl through the surf which broke on the sandy beach. A few of the people of the village nearest the water came running down to see the boat off, but John had not time to tell his wife and daughters of what he was going to do. He would fain have given them a parting kiss, but time was precious. He sent up a lad, though, to his home. “Tell them,” he said, “we are doing our duty; we shall be cared for.” Away through the foaming sea the brave men pulled their stout boat. The spray flew over her, and speedily wetted them through, but for that they cared nothing. The seas, however, sometimes broke on board, and little Ben was kept hard at work, baling out the water.

“She is well out at the end of the spit, lads,” observed old Hadden; “we may get close enough for them to heave a rope on board us, if she hangs together, and I don’t see that there is much doubt about her doing that.”

They pulled on for some time, without any one again speaking. “She will hang very well together,” observed John; “but, oh! more’s the pity, they seem to be lowering one of their boats, instead of waiting for our coming, as if they could reach the shore in her.” Such was indeed the case. A small boat was lowered, and several people were seen to leap into her. She shoved off, but a current, of which the strangers could not have known, swept the boat towards the breakers. In another instant she was rolled right over, and all in her must have perished. Still the Haddens, thinking that others might be left on board, pulled on lustily to give them help.

As they rowed out more to sea, they saw another boat making her way towards the wreck. She had come from a hamlet a short distance to the north of Sandhills, from which place the wreck had been seen as well as from the Haddens’ village. Though she had not left the shore till after the Haddens’ boat had put off, she had the wind more in her favour, so it seemed likely that she would reach the wreck as soon as they could. When more than one boat is launched to go to a wreck, there is always a rivalry among the boatmen of the coast to try who will be the first on board, and if anything had been wanting to make the young Haddens toil harder than they had been doing, this would have made them. Still, the gale blew so strong that they could scarcely make any way against the wind, and all they could do at times was to keep the boat with her head to the sea to prevent her from being swamped (or filled with water). Yet on they went. They believed that they might be able to save some of their fellow-creatures from death, and that thought was enough to make them run all risks.

The last squall had been stronger than any others. Soon after it had passed over, John Hadden took a steady look to windward. “My boys,” said he, “the gale is breaking. By the time we get up to the wreck, it will be calm enough to allow us to climb on board. It is to be hoped that her crew will stick by the vessel. No! what folly! they have launched another boat, and she will meet, I fear, with the fate of the first.” He was silent for some minutes, while he looked now and again towards the wreck. “I feared so!” he cried at last; “they are lost, every one of them; no man could swim through that boiling surf.”

Nearly another half-hour passed after this before the two boats got up to the wreck. The gale had by this time very much abated, and, the tide having turned, the sea had gone down. The boats pulled under the lee of the wrecked vessel, which held well together, and had her crew stayed on board, they might have been saved. Not a person was to be seen on deck. The fishermen shouted loudly; no one came. It seemed certain that all must have perished. Without help from the ship it was at first difficult to get on board, except at great risk. However, after waiting some time longer, the boats were able to run alongside, and the crews reached her deck. They searched the ship through; not a human being was found on board. A fire, however, was burning in the cabin grate, and before it sat a cat, quietly licking her paws. (A fact.) Instinct had guided her better than man’s sense, of which he is often so proud.

The Haddens, with the men of the other boat, began, without loss of time, to search through the ship. She was a foreigner. It was clear that those who had left her were in great fear, and had thought only of saving their lives. Many articles of value lay scattered about in the cabins. John Hadden and his sons were on deck; the rest were below.