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THE WEECK 
 
 i ( 
 
 I NORTHERN BELLE;" 
 
 BEI]SrG A DESCRIPTIVE POEM. 
 
 IN FOUR PARTS. 
 
 By E. G. BUETON, 
 
 Author of " The Warriof Soy," " The Nubian Captive," " Gesner 
 and Agatha," " The Fugitive Free," Ifc., Sfc. ; 
 
 PMeS^^Tl 
 
 (by febmigsion) to the 
 
 DOWAQEE LADY CUETIS. 
 
 i 
 
 EAMSGATE : ' 
 
 PRINTED AND PUBilSHED BY HENRY HART, 82, HIGH STREET. 
 
The original of tliis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 92401 34481 09 
 
THE WRECK 
 
 66 
 
 NORTHERN BELLE; 
 
 99 
 
 Jife of a S^p ta % Crable to t^e ira&e : 
 
 BEING A DESCRIPTIVE POEM. 
 
 IN FOUR PARTS. 
 
 By E. G. burton, , 
 
 Author of " The Warrior Boy" " The Nubian Captive,'^ " Oesner and 
 Agatha," " The Fugitive Free," l(c., l(c. ; '<i'j,; ^/i. 
 
 TO WHICH IS ADDED ' "> ' 
 
 MIDNIGHT ON THE CLIFFS, &c 
 
 
 BY THE SAME ACTHOR. 
 
 EAMSGATE: 
 
 PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BT HENRY HART, 82, HIGH STREET. 
 
TO THE 
 
 DOWAGER LADY CURTIS. 
 
 Truly sensible of your Ladyship's goodness and 
 condescension in permitting me to introduce to the ' 
 public, under your auspices, the efforts of my 
 feeble pen, I humbly entreat your acceptance of 
 my most grateful and respectful acknowledgements. 
 May He who rules the storm, and stretches forth 
 His Almighty hand to the sinking seaman in the 
 hour of peril, vouchsafe to your Ladyship a long 
 and happy life, is the most devout prayer of your 
 
 Most respectful, and devoted servant, 
 
 EDWARD GASCOIGNE BURTON. 
 
 Eamsgate, 
 June 1st, 1857. 
 
%'ikm k i\t luWic. 
 
 Havins been on the sea-shore on that awful night, January 5th, which 
 bi'oiight death and desolation to many a smiling hearth ; and- having also 
 been within a short distance of the eventful spot where the unfortunate 
 " Northern Belle " was wrecked, I was most vividly impressed with the 
 terror of the scene. And when the intelligence of the loss of the crew of 
 the Margate boat, the "Tictory," in their endeavours to save life, was 
 spread around, sorrow and gloom was in every countenance, and an 
 unprecedented sympathy was expressed by every tongue. 
 
 Dwelling as I was in the midst of those whose names are, and ever 
 willTje, associated with the dire event, I was naturally led to throw into 
 some form the feelings^ which predominated in my breast during the 
 excitement of the moment ; and, as will be seen, the following pages are 
 the result. 
 
 The subject itself ought to be my shield against too severe a criticism. 
 My simple lay hath no other object than to tell " a plain unvarnished 
 tale " of the unexampled bravery and gallant bearing of those noble- 
 hearted boatmen who dared the wildist fury of the raging ocean, while 
 death in all its horrors surrounded them, and safely brought to land the 
 Captain and Crew of the ill-fated ship. 
 
 Should my humble rhymes find their way into the hands of any of the 
 hardy youths of our coast who are destined to seek their bread on the 
 , bosom of " the gi-eat waters," perhaps I may have been the means of 
 placing before them a memorial of a great deed, which will engender an 
 ardom- in their bosoms, that in after years shall inspire them with courage 
 to follow so laudible an example. 
 
 EDWARD GASCOIGNE BURTON. 
 
 Memel Place, Vale, 
 
 Ramsgate, June 1st, 1857. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Part I. — Introductory Lines to Commerce. 
 „ II. — The Departure from New York. 
 „ III.— The Voyage. 
 
 .. IV.— The Wreck. 
 
 My principal object in changing the metre in 
 each part, is for the purpose of breaking the 
 monotomy of a lengthy poem in one style, for 
 unless the poetry be of a very high order, it 
 becomes tedious to many readers. 
 
THE WRECK ^ 
 
 NOETHERN BELLE. 
 
 fart /irst. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY LINES TO COMMERCE. 
 
 Hail commerce, hail ! how mighty is thy power, 
 Daily dost thou on nations blessings shower ; 
 For centuries hast thou 'neath every sun, 
 For enterprising spirits, fortunes won. 
 Bringing the riches of each distant land. 
 O'er the wild waves, to many a grateful hand : — 
 The sunny East, its sparkling treasure sends. 
 Empire with empire, now its produce blends ! 
 To commerce we all art and science owe. 
 And many a gift which make trade's current flow. 
 Thy hand is seen in many a shrub and flower. 
 And cities vast exemplify thy power ; 
 
INRTODUCTORY LINES TO COMMERCE. 
 
 The peasant toils to deck thy graceful brow, 
 While kings and princes at thy altar bow. 
 Thy means provide the thunderbolts of war ; 
 Of Britain's wealth, thou art the leading star ; 
 Thou art the rock on which a nation stands ; 
 Upon thy base society expands 
 
 Her social qualities, and at thy nod 
 The lands where cliristian foot had never trod 
 Receive the cheering attributes of God. 
 When thou dost thy imperial sceptre wield. 
 The barren waste will plenteous harvests yield ; 
 O'er desert Avilds hast thou acquired a sway,; 
 Where darkness dwelt, now shines the light of day. 
 Behold thy messenger — the trim built ship — 
 With what dexterity can man equip 
 That floating mountain of a master mind, 
 And send her forth before the gentle wind — 
 While he by genius and superior skill, 
 O'er oceans wide, can bend her to his wUl — 
 Whether to Torrid or to Frigid Zone 
 He guides her on, by favoring breezes blown ; 
 
INTRODUCTORY LINES TO COMMERCE. 
 
 To undiscover'd lands, he bears away, 
 While science lends him her ethereal ray. 
 
 Hail ! Great Columbus, — be thy memory blest,-r- 
 
 .With soul courag'ous and with swelling breast 
 
 Didst thou dare all, an unknown ocean's roar, 
 
 Nor didst thou rest till on the new world's shore 
 
 Thou placed thy foot, and gave to all the earth , 
 
 A produce of inestimable worth. 
 
 Thou gav'st a land to those who wished to toil ; 
 
 To Albion's sons, a rich and yielding soil ; 
 
 A Continent, — prolific, gen'rous, free. 
 
 To Britain linked, in bonds of amity ; 
 
 Our princely merchants, one and aU combine. 
 
 To kneel before thine everlasting shrine. 
 
 Spirit of commerce ! beauteous in thy strength ! 
 Shed forth thy glories through the world's great length ; 
 On eagle's wings speed on, to unknown climes. 
 Bring to the light the wealth of deepest mines. 
 Bulwark of freedom ! lead thy votar'es forth ! 
 Shew to barbarian hordes thy matchless worth ; 
 
In all the efTulgent rays of light appear. 
 
 In countries which, are now both dark and drear ; 
 
 Unfurl thy friendly flag to ev'ry breeze. 
 
 That flag which every land in bondage frees ; 
 
 Each day add splendour to Britannia's crown. 
 
 And may she lo^g enjoy her bright renown ; 
 
 Hold up the olive branch to lands afar. 
 
 And crush the demon- of destructive war. 
 
 Oh, may that Providence which rules above. 
 
 Unite aU lands in one eternal love ; 
 
 Oh, may His hand, who rules each furious wave, 
 
 Guide those in peril of a watery grave. 
 
 Our theme wiU now be of the bounding deep. 
 And those who in its bosom, calmly sleep. 
 
DEPARTURE FROM NEW YORK. * 1 1 
 
 '^wA Irtnnii. 
 THE DEPAKTURE FROM NEW YORK. 
 
 Oh ! who hath not heard of the golden East ? 
 
 Or the splendour of Alexander's feast ? 
 
 Or the proud Darius' glittering car, 
 
 Which bore him on to a fatal war ? 
 
 And who hath not heard of the Halls' of Knights, 
 
 Lit up by a thousand dazzling lights, 
 
 Heroes in armour, and heroines gay. 
 
 Assembled in joyous and grand array ? 
 
 And who hath not seen, in our own dear land, 
 
 Bold warr'ors array'd in a warlike band. 
 
 Their bright swords flashing in the noon day sun. 
 
 As they marched to the sound of the stirring drum ? 
 
 No doubt 'tis a pleasure to stand and gaze 
 
 On a sight like this in these warhke days, 
 
 When every soul beats high with delight, ~ 
 
 And is eager his country's cause to fight. 
 
 Such sights l^ave a charm for a landsman's eye, 
 
 And they make the soul with a pride beat high ; 
 
12 DEPARTURE FROM NEW YORK. 
 
 But there is a sight which all these excel. 
 And at which the beholder's heart must .swell? 
 'Tis to gaze on the bounding bright blue sea, 
 Where an hundred sail — ^frona. the port now free- 
 Plough gracefully on through the heaving main. 
 With many a merchants hard-earn'd gain. 
 How proudly they look with their sails unfurl'd, 
 All bound to various parts of the world ; 
 On each cargo rest many a hope and fear. 
 To some they bear smiles, to others a tear ; 
 Still they glide on, in their glory and pride. 
 How sweetly they float o'er the sparkling tide ; 
 Like a forest of living things they come. 
 Hurrying along to their native home. 
 The spirit of storms may often arise j 
 The thunder may roll through the dark'ning skies ; 
 The waves may ascend to their topmost height ; 
 But steady's the word, and duty's delight. 
 Like clustering bees, high up on the spars. 
 You behold the bold, but lighthearted tars ; 
 
(r 
 
 DEPARTURE FROM NEW YORK. 13 
 
 Some " whistle the wind," some cheer with a song, 
 And all is delight as they sail along; 
 They dream not of danger, trouble or care. 
 Glee, friendship, and mirth, and jollity's there ; 
 They think of the joys of the land no more ; 
 They think not of those they have left on shore ; 
 Their lot for a while on the ocean's cast. 
 And each tar's duty is " nailed to the mast ;" 
 His ship is his home — she's his bread, his life — 
 She's as dear to him as his children or wife ; 
 One trouble alone can his mind assail, 
 'Tis when another Ms bai-k should outsail ; 
 And then he pulls and he " hauls with a will," 
 And calls on old Boreas his sails to fill : 
 Coasting or foreign, or in ship of war. 
 It's all the same to your, jolly Jack Tar. 
 Britain's ploughman and tars have far outshone 
 The brightest gems round a monarch's throne. 
 'Tis labour alone makes a nation smile. 
 Her crown is adorned by the sons of toil ; 
 
14 DEPARTURE FROM NEW YORK. 
 
 The craftsman to earth is a shining light, 
 And the horney hand is a jewel bright ; 
 A monarch may issue his pow'rM will, 
 But nought it avails sans the artists' skiU ; 
 The merchant may ply his glorious trade, 
 But his wealth depends on the seaman's aid ; 
 His gold may be borne on each favoring gale. 
 But the hand of the tar must trim the sail. 
 
 How like a bold monarch, each cg.ptain stands. 
 As he steers his course to far distant lands ; 
 He looks on his bark as a thing of life. 
 As she bears him on through the wat'ry strife ; 
 Now bounding aloft with the swelling tide. 
 Then swiftly through surging seas she 'U glide. 
 Like a sleeping child, on its mother's breast, 
 A moment she '11 lay on a white waves creast ; 
 But touched with the breath of a stirring breeze. 
 Away she will dash through the foaming seas. 
 
 Such was the fleet, which one eventful day, 
 In all its pride sailed out of New York's Bay. 
 
THE VOYAGE. 15 
 
 fart ^ixt. 
 THE VOYAGE. 
 
 Upon the broad Atlantic's breast, 
 
 The fleet now makes its way ; 
 All hearts are light, and soon they hope, 
 
 To reach fair Biscay's Bay. 
 
 Oh, what a hardy toiling race, 
 
 Those brave sons of the sea ; 
 Their hearts are light as thistledown, 
 
 Their souls are ever free ; 
 
 They tell of dangers on the main — 
 
 Of dangers too on land — 
 Of times when they in sprees ashore 
 
 Where thrown upon a strand ; 
 
 " Broadway," " Highway," " Wapping " too. 
 
 Are subjects for their talk ; 
 Of those each has a yarn to spin, 
 
 As they the deck do walk ; 
 
But there are some besides the crew. 
 
 On board each gallant bark. 
 Who pace the deck with hasty strides, 
 
 And distant objects mark; 
 
 With straining eyes they look for land, 
 
 Long' ere it can appear. 
 For there are those in Britain's Isle, 
 
 Whose souls to them are dear. 
 
 The lover reads his letters o'er, 
 
 Which oft were read before. 
 And finds his love ten times more strong 
 
 Since he left Albion's shore ; 
 
 Again he traces every line, 
 And warmer grows his heart ; , 
 
 He vows when once they meet again, 
 They never more will part. 
 
 And now the day begins to close. 
 The glooming creeps around ; 
 
 The sailor keeps a careful watch. 
 But mirth will still abound. 
 
THE VOYAGE. 17 
 
 Around the waters wide expanse 
 
 A magic power reigns ; 
 The very waves are hushed to rest. 
 
 As if in " slumber's chains." 
 
 How like a cold deceptive world, 
 
 Is a stni night at sea ; 
 Like traitors lie the sleeping waves, 
 
 Engendering treachery. 
 
 Like fair-faced friends, you trust the seas. 
 
 In all sincerity ; 
 But oft, alas, you wake to find, 
 
 A dread reality. 
 
 The surface bright as shining gold) 
 
 With confidence impress'd, 
 You trust — not knowing what's within 
 
 The arch deceiver's breast. 
 
 And when too late, you see the gulph. 
 
 Yawning beneath your feet, 
 'Midst which you sink, in wild despair, 
 
 A victim to deceit. 
 
18 
 
 THE VOYAGE. 
 
 Oh ! for a beacon light to guide 
 
 The good man on his way, 
 To throw around his guileless heart, 
 
 One solitary ray. 
 
 But see ! the moon throws forth her light 
 
 Upon the ripling deep ; 
 The ocean wears a sHv'ry hue — 
 
 " The stars their vigils keep." 
 
 The winds are still — ^the sea is calm — 
 
 You hear the night birds scream ; 
 
 But it hath not the power to wake 
 The seaman from his dream. 
 
 He dreams of home and happiness. 
 
 Of kindred and of friends ; 
 And nature, careful of his strength, 
 
 Renewing power she lends. ' ' 
 
 t 
 
 There is a sweetness on the sea, 
 
 Upon a moonlit night ; 
 The finny tribe around you play — 
 
 The heavens are clear and bright. 
 
THE VOY.AGE. 19 
 
 Thoughts will then unbidden come, 
 
 The soul alive to keep, 
 While thousands round you, sleeping lay. 
 
 Upon the mighty deep. 
 
 And DOW the fleet is scattered wide. 
 
 Some scarcely to be seen ; 
 An hundred miles of sea will roll — 
 
 The noble ships between. 
 
 There was a ship in that brave fleet, 
 From fair Columbia's shores ; 
 
 A gallant bark for Albion's coast; 
 And bearing goodly stores. 
 
 Her Captain was a brave old man. 
 
 And good as he was brave, 
 And for some forty long, long years. 
 
 Had ploughed the raging wave. 
 
 Oh ! how he loved his bonny bark, 
 
 No one on earth could tell; 
 " No craft," he said, " was ever built. 
 
 Like his smart ' Northern Belle.' " ' 
 
20 
 
 THE VOYAGE. 
 
 Thus often would the old man say, 
 
 As on his course he ran, 
 And truth to speak, on that same voyage, 
 She boldly led the van. 
 
 And oft upon a summer's night. 
 
 Before he would " turn in," 
 With pipe in hand, and sparkling cup. 
 
 Thus would the old man sing — 
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S SONG. 
 
 Oh ! bear away, my gallant bark. 
 None can thy speed excel ; 
 
 Not all the fleet, can show a craft, ' 
 Like my own " Northern Belle." 
 
 I care not for the flowery land, 
 
 I would for ever dwell 
 Upon the wide and stormy sea. 
 
 With thee, my " Northern Belle.'^ 
 
THE VOYAGE. 21 
 
 To the my bonny trim built bark, 
 
 No danger ere befel. 
 In raging storms thou'rt ever true, 
 
 My faithful " Northern Belle." 
 
 And when my yarn shall be spun out. 
 And some one tolls my kneU, 
 
 Give me no grave, but a box'd birth. 
 On board my " Northern Belle." 
 
 Now, on Newfoundland's cheerless banks. 
 
 That sea of fear and dread, 
 Wliere many a brave and gallant crew 
 
 Lie slumbering with the dead. 
 
 The " Northern Belle " still leads the way. 
 
 While iceburgs roll around ; 
 But 'midst these floating rocks of death. 
 
 The bark would onward bound. 
 
22 
 
 THE VOYAGE. 
 
 What joy was in the old man's eye, 
 
 As on his course he sped ; 
 No matter how the storm might rage, 
 
 His ship was still ahead. 
 
 Hark ! is not that the wild sea mew. 
 
 Or is't a wintry blast ? 
 It is the wiad — it whistles loud — 
 
 The sky is overcast. 
 
 Spirits of tempest are abroad, 
 
 And Biscay's shore they near'; 
 But though the storm is louder stUl, 
 
 The old man hath no fear. 
 
 " Fear not," he cries^ " though storms arise 
 
 In aU their wildest yell, 
 My gallant bark will bear me through' — 
 
 My bonny ' Northern Belle.'" 
 
 And now the sea with fury rolls 
 Throughout the treacherous Bay ; 
 
 But still the old man steers the ship, 
 Without the least dismay. 
 
THE VOYAGE. 23 
 
 Thougli all around is one wild foam, 
 And waves are mountains high ; 
 
 The gaUant bark, the raging surf, 
 She boldly doth defy. 
 
 The sky is dismal to the view^- 
 The clouds are black as night — 
 
 The captain still no terror shows. 
 But calmly scans the sight. 
 
 His trust is in the power of Him, 
 Who rules and guides the whole ; 
 
 The storm can not one fear impart 
 To his undaunted soul. 
 
 But where is all that noble fleet. 
 That cross'd the Atlantic's foam — 
 
 Are they now moor'd in some safe bay, 
 Or wildly do they roam ? 
 
 Or hath the raging elements 
 Laid all their proud heads low — 
 
 Are they engulphed in that abyss. 
 Where angry waters flow ? 
 
24 THE VOYAGE. 
 
 Now, only one is seen to brave 
 
 The fury of the gale ; 
 And she doth nobly bear the blast, 
 
 Which rives the shivering sail. 
 
 ■'•■if 
 
THE WRECK. 
 
 25 
 
 fart /flttttlf, 
 THE WRECK. 
 
 The king of the storm, in his robes of death, 
 Now mounts his ghastly throne — 
 
 His sceptre he waves o'er the boOing surf. 
 While around him a shroud is thrown. 
 
 His spirits he calls from the ocean's depth — 
 
 His mandate they all obey; 
 They know iull soon, that a terrible doom. 
 
 Is the fate of some beings of clay. 
 
 The spirits aU clad in unhearthly attire, 
 
 His throne they gather around ; 
 For the work of death they are all prepared. 
 
 Each spirit he bears a shroud. 
 
 The king of the storm, on his cloud of death, 
 
 In a voice of fiiry cries, 
 " Behold, that bark ia the foam below. 
 
 Her captam my power defies. 
 
26 
 
 THE WRECK. 
 
 Frail mortals on earth, would dare to save 
 
 A ship which I have doom'd ; 
 The first that disputes the storm king's power, 
 In the wild waves is entomb'd. 
 Spirits away, 
 Ere 'tis day ; 
 Frail mortals come 
 To meet their doom ; 
 Away, away ; 
 O'er the waters cast your breath, 
 Away unto your work of death." 
 
 Hark ! to those shouts of Foreland's height — 
 What mean those cries at dead of night ? 
 Why stand me here in wild amaze. 
 While yonder lights around us blaze ? 
 Hark ! to that cry of sad despair. 
 Now borne upon the midnight air ; 
 A bark upon the shore is cast, 
 And to the cliffs is surging fast. 
 Again the air is rent with cries ; 
 The storm the seaman's skill defies ; 
 
THE WRECK. 27 
 
 How furiously the winds now blow— 
 
 They raise the vessel on her prow ; 
 
 The madden'd waters o'er her break. 
 
 And many a gallant life's at stake ; 
 
 All human aid appears in vain ; 
 
 She strikes — great God — those cries again ; 
 
 What sad forebodings they impart, 
 
 Their sounds would pierce the coldest heart ; 
 
 Mercy ! — that wave has swept the deck — 
 
 She sinks ; ah, no, one little speck 
 
 Is seen again — but now the waves. 
 
 Threaten aU with watery graves. 
 
 Oh, God ! how awful 'tis to stand 
 Upon the safe and firm-knit land. 
 Without the power to give one hand 
 Of help to those on death's cold brink. 
 And see the vessel downward sink. 
 How terribly the winds now blow. 
 While heaving gusts of sleet and snow 
 Beat hard upon the freezing crew. 
 Who in the shrouds are still in view. 
 
28 
 
 THE WBpeK. 
 
 Hark, hark ! you heax her timbers creaky 
 
 On every side she's sprung a leak ; 
 
 But see some brave souls come to save — • 
 
 A boat is on that curling wave — 
 
 It is the Maa-gate " Victory," 
 
 That rises on yon mountain sea ; 
 
 By noble hearts the boat is mann'd. 
 It bounds along at their eontOKtod ; 
 Brave hardy men, with souls of fire. 
 To save how strong is their desire ; 
 How swiftly doth the gallant band, 
 Extend their distaijce from the land ; 
 Oh ! with what power they ply the oar. 
 To where the vessel lies on shore ; 
 See, with what superhuman strength, 
 They strive to gain one more boat's length 5 
 But broken waters round them gush. 
 Into their frail boat fast Ihey rush ; 
 But yet their souls are not dismayed. 
 And one last effort now is made — ■ 
 
THE WRECK- 29 
 
 The vessel's crew, witli beatiBg hearts. 
 Tremble, as each fresh timber starts j 
 The boatmen strive, but all in vain. 
 The sinking " ^Northern Belle " to gain j 
 Like rolling thunder comes a wave — 
 It breaks — the waters o'er thera lave j 
 Wild shrieks are heard upon the shore, 
 The boat has sunk to rise no more. 
 
 Oh! what disasters brought that gale — - 
 The widow's moan, the orphan's wail. 
 Is heard around all Thanet's Isle, 
 And chas'd away is every smile ; 
 No more is heard the sound of mirth j 
 Sorrow reigns round many a hearth, 
 That in the morning smiled with glee— 
 At night — how changed its destiny. 
 The mother's shrieks now rend the air ; 
 Her children cry in wild despair ; 
 Lost is the father's fond caress. 
 No more his offspring will he bless — 
 
30 
 
 THE WEECK. 
 
 No more will he their troubles share, 
 Or ease the mother of her care ; 
 Hush'd are the sounds of that sweet voice. 
 Which made a fond wife's heart rejoice ; 
 All social comforts now are gone ; 
 How desolates the widow's home ; 
 The world is a wide wilderness ; 
 
 a 
 
 She bids farewell to happiness. 
 
 Spirit of charity, divine ! 
 
 From out thy realm of glory shine, 
 
 Seek out the widow's cheerless home ; 
 
 Oh ! speak to her with sweetest tone ; 
 
 Be with her in this trying hour, 
 
 And give to her thy soothing power ; 
 
 Throw round her thy protecting arm ; 
 
 Breathe in her ear that holy charm 
 
 Of friendship's dear and loving tie, 
 
 "Which springs from out thy Throne on High ; 
 
 Oh, animate each lib'ral heart. 
 
 Which may to her some gift impart — 
 
THE WRECK. 31 
 
 Such may, in time, assuage her grief ; 
 Oh, teach them, then, to yield relief ; 
 Thy angel to the orphans send ; 
 To them thy heavenly beauty lend ; 
 Hark ! from their couch of misery, 
 They cry to thee, sweet charity. 
 
 Though this calamity befel 
 The boat and crew — the " Northern Belle," 
 Is 'midst the waters breaking fast, 
 "V\TiiLe round her roars the angry blast ; 
 The waves in wildest fury rise, 
 And from the ship are heard the cries 
 Of those who to the rigging lash'd. 
 Expect each moment to be dash'd 
 Against the wild and towering chfF ; 
 Whose height forbids the least relief; 
 The angry clouds above them roll, 
 And loud is heard the tempest's howl.; 
 But bravely, still, they all bear up, 
 Though tasting of life's ebbing cup ; 
 
32 
 
 THE WRECK. 
 
 The night is cold — the snow and sleet, 
 Upon their wasting limbs now beat ; 
 With lacerated hands they cling. 
 To frozen ropes — oh, who wiE bring 
 Them aid in this their hapless state. 
 And snatch them from the awful fate. 
 Which threatens to engulph them all, 
 Beneath the tempest's ghastly pall. 
 The shades of death now open wide. 
 And dismal forms before them glide ; 
 The world and aU its cares are gone. 
 For reason wanders on her tlirone; 
 Inanimate they now appear. 
 Their souls are lost to hope or fear ; 
 No more they hear the wild waves surge. 
 They stand upon the cold grave's verge ; 
 The heavens now wear their wildest form ; 
 The trees from out the earth are torn ; 
 All nature seems convulsed with fear — 
 The storm king rides with mad career. 
 
THE WRECK. 33 
 
 Oh ! is not this thou Stoic say, 
 An emblem of the judgment day ; 
 Of light, the sky shows not a spark ; 
 Dismal is aU round, and dark. 
 The stoutest heart begins to quail, 
 At sight of this unearthly gale ; 
 The moon and stars are .overcast ; 
 The rocks seem shaken with the blast ; 
 The night bird, deaths dread omen sings, 
 And spectres dance upon his wings. 
 
 But, hark ! what mean those shouts so near — 
 
 Oh ! heard you not that joyous cheer — 
 
 What mean those lights which now we view ? 
 
 It is the life-boat's gallant crew ; 
 
 Though seas are rolling mountain's high, 
 
 The boiling surf they do defy ; 
 
 With hearts of oak their minds are bent. 
 
 To dare the raging element ; 
 
 A lion's courage nerves each breast. 
 
 As boldly on the boat is press'd. 
 
34 THE WREClt. 
 
 Ye landsmen, is not this a sight ? 
 Behold the gallant " Mary White "*— 
 That boat hath often times withstood 
 The fury of the raging flood ; 
 Like some soft zephyf on the breeze, 
 She skims the crest of foaming seas ; 
 Her mission is to fly arid save 
 The seaman from a watery grave ; 
 And often times, as we have seen. 
 Successful has that mission been. 
 
 And now they leave the cliff-bound shore. 
 While monster waves around them roar ; 
 Their faithful oars they firmly clasp, 
 Boldly defying death's cold grasp. 
 
 • The name of the life-boat, which was used on this memorable occasion — 
 she was presented to the boatmen, of Broadstairs, by Mr. Thomas White, of 
 Cowes, in 1850; her superior qualities have made her the instrument of saving 
 many a crew from a watery grave. 
 
 The " Culmer White," which will appear in the course of the narrative, 
 came &om the hands of the same noble-minded and generous gentleman, 
 whose laudable exertions, together with those of his son, added greatly to the 
 subscription which was made for the widows and orphans of the brave 
 fellows who went down in the '.' Victory " lugger. 
 
A holy fire burns in each soul — 
 One feeling animates the wholes. 
 Angel of mercy now descend, 
 These gallant hearts do thou befriend. 
 
 Spirits of storms, to them be kind, 
 Allay the fury of the wind ; 
 Their lives do thou in safety keep. 
 And stay the fury of the deep. 
 See, with what energy they pull. 
 To yonder helpless sinking hull ; 
 Now toss'd upon the billowy foam ; 
 Now wildly o'er the waters thrown. 
 
 But nought deters determin'd minds, 
 They struggle on 'gainst waves and tides ; 
 The elements the earth may shake. 
 And all their lives may be at stake ; 
 But holy nature mounts her throne, 
 And urges these brave boatmen on ; 
 Each feels- her power within his soul. 
 And on they rush towards the goal, 
 
36 ' THE WRECK. 
 
 Where clings the crew, high in mid air. 
 Whose lives hang by a brittle spar ; 
 Each seaman, motionless as death, 
 With scarcely power to draw a breath ; 
 Transfix'd are now their glossy eyes, 
 And hush'd are all their plaintive cries ; 
 They view, with calm serenity. 
 The shores of vast eternity. 
 
 But, now, a spark of hope appears. 
 The " Mary White," the ship fast nears ; 
 With giant strength the boatmen pull ; 
 With confidence their hearts are full. 
 Oh ! what a power to them is given. 
 By the Almighty arm of heav'n ; 
 Though louder roars the rushing gale. 
 Nought can their noble spirits quail j 
 With lightnings speed they pull away. 
 Though deluged with the briny spray ; 
 A glor'ous halo, seems to i-eign. 
 Around these noble-hearted men j 
 
THE WRECK. 37 
 
 " A stranger to each breast is fear, 
 For mercy's angel hovers near. 
 
 Would you see courage in its might ? 
 
 Look there, and gaze upon the sight, 
 With reverential awe, and tell 
 The world what on this night befel 
 The hapless bark, the " Northern Belle." 
 
 Would you see man, in all his pride ? 
 
 Behold him on. yon swelling tide ; 
 
 See, with what single heartedness. 
 
 And pure disinterestedness. 
 
 He risks his precious life to save 
 
 The seamen from a wat'ry grave ; 
 
 Watch well each calm and placed brow 
 
 Of those who through yon waters plough- 
 There, in reality, you see, 
 
 The spirit of philanthrophy. 
 
 Oh, what a lesson here is taught. 
 
 Wealth's pamper'd sons, who set at nought 
 
38 THE WRECK. 
 
 The humble children of the soil, 
 
 Whose bread is earn'd by ceaseless toil i 
 
 But who, when duty's call is heard. 
 
 Are eager to obey its word. 
 
 How truly this is brought to view;, 
 
 By yonder gallant life-boat's crew ; 
 
 They leave their children, wives, and home. 
 
 To boldly dare the raging storm. 
 
 Ye great, who rule with power on earth. 
 
 Oh learn to estimate their worth ; 
 
 Let ev'ry tongue give them God's speed, 
 
 Who aid the sailor in his need. 
 
 With thunders sound the waters clash. 
 And o'er the life-boat fiercely dash ; 
 No ray of light illumes their path. 
 On them the billows vent their wrath ; 
 The -helmsman, wrapt in snowy shroud. 
 With piercing eye now looks around ; 
 And with a wild, yet joyous cry. 
 Discovers they, the wreck are nigh : , 
 
THE WRECK. 39 
 
 " Pull hard, my lads, one effort more, 
 
 We'll bear the crew all safe to shore." 
 
 His voice is like some powerful charfa, 
 
 And acts upon each boatman's arm ; 
 
 Like bolts of fire each stroke is given, 
 
 Asunder are th© billows riven ; 
 
 The tempest seems to yield its sw^ay, 
 
 As the brave fellows cleave their way ; 
 
 With fury now the oars are plied, 
 
 Nearer, and nearer, still they glide 
 
 Along the dark and rolling tide- 
 
 Huzza ! they reach the vessel's side. 
 
 What strange emotions quickly spring, 
 
 From out the breasts of those who cling 
 
 To yonder frail and tatter'd shrouds ; 
 
 Their gratitude it hath no bounds ; 
 
 They breathe to God an inward prayer 
 
 Of thanks for His Almighty care. 
 
 The star of hope now brightly bnrns, 
 
 New life to each worn frame returns ; i 
 
But not a moment's to be lost, 
 Furiously the life-beat's tost 
 Upon the huge relentless sea, 
 Which rolls with awfiil majesty. 
 The fainting crew are taken down, 
 Benumb'd with cold, and helpless grown ; 
 Their stiffen'd limbs, from frost and snOw, 
 Scarce any animation show ; 
 The boatmen, with a tender care, 
 The seamen to the life-boat bear. 
 But ere the holy deeds complete, 
 A roaring, blast of wind and sleet 
 Bursts madly o'er the vessel's deck, 
 Abd drives the boat far from tl^e wreck ; 
 Like lightning she is borne away 
 Before the tide's all-powerful sway ; 
 She hath but seven of twenty-three — 
 The rest are left in agony. 
 But from the land, the "M9,ry White," 
 Is seen with all her living freight ; 
 
THE WRECK, 41 
 
 And shouts of wild delight arise, 
 From earth up to the sable skies ; 
 The boat now threads the rocky strand — 
 Huzza ! they reach the welcome land. 
 
 Oh, God of storms, do thou be kind 
 
 To those poor souls now left behind ; 
 
 Oh, strengthen every spar and rope, 
 
 And cheer each disappointed hope ; 
 
 The ocean will be brav'd once more — 
 
 Another life-boat leaves the shore ; 
 
 The " Culmer White," with speed is brought, 
 
 And on the boiling surf's afloat ; 
 
 Her crew, like those who went before. 
 
 High on the wings Of courage soar ; 
 
 Like those who did, but now return, 
 
 In mercy's cause their souls aU burn ; 
 
 With noble pride their bosom's swell'd. 
 
 At the great deed they just beheld ; 
 
 And now, with joy, each willing heart. 
 
 Braves death to act the self-same part ; 
 
42 THE WRECK. 
 
 The bright example was to them, 
 A call to save their fellow-men. 
 Great Pow'r behold yon biUow's vast, 
 Which o'er the crew their ftiries cast ; 
 Now they are hid in boiling spray ; 
 But nought can their bold hearts dismay ; 
 •And midst the angry oceans swell. 
 They, too, reach the " Northern BeUe." 
 
 Oh ! what a scene of hope and fear. 
 When the life-boat's men appear ; 
 The dying crew, with streaming eyes. 
 Are taken by a glad surprise ; 
 In feeble whispers, thanks are given. 
 Unto the bount'ous Hand of Heav'n, 
 Which bore the life-boat o'er the waves. 
 To save them all from wat'ry graves. 
 Now, for a moment, aU is stiU — 
 The storm seems hush'd against its wiU ; 
 The clouds disperse — a cheering ray — 
 Proclaims 'tis now the break of day ; 
 
THE WRECK. 
 
 43 
 
 From off the wreck the crew are borne^ 
 
 Fainting, weary, sick, and worn. 
 
 See, how the brave old Captain stands, 
 
 With frame convuls'd, and clench'd hands ; 
 
 Why will he not forsake the deck ? 
 
 Why clings he to the sinking wreck ? 
 
 " Away," he cries, " your task renew, 
 
 Bear to the shore, my gaUant crew ; 
 
 Be they restor'd to health and home ; 
 
 But with my bark, I die alone ; 
 
 In life she was my joy and pride, 
 
 I lov'd her as my ocean bride — 
 
 I gaze upon my shatter'd bark. 
 
 And all within my soul is dark. 
 
 AU thoughts of life have left me now. 
 
 To fate> decrees I humbly bow ; 
 
 But, Oh ! the pangs that tear my heart. 
 
 As round me creaking timbers start; 
 
 Oh, press me not my life to save ; 
 
 My bark's dark hull shall be my grave. 
 
44 
 
 THE WRECK. 
 
 To friends and earth, a long farewell — 
 
 I'U die with thee, my ' Northern Belle.' " 
 
 The pilot, mov'd by words like these. 
 
 Now clasps the old man's trembling knees. 
 
 And vows with noble soul elate, 
 
 " In life or death he'U share his fate." 
 
 The boatmen, now, with manly grasp. 
 
 Within their friendly arms they clasp 
 
 The pilot and the brave old man. 
 
 Whose lives were " dwindl'd to a span ;" 
 
 And swiftly to the boat they bear 
 
 The tender objects of their care ; 
 
 And, as exhausted now they lie. 
 
 The boatmen o'er the billows hie,' 
 
 Majestic'Uy, the " Culmer White," 
 
 Boldly mounts the foaming height ; 
 
 How gracefully she now appe£a*s ;- 
 
 While loud huzzas and deaf 'ning cheers. 
 
 Are heard above the breaker's roar — 
 
 Thank Grod ! — thank God I — they reach the shore. 
 
 END OF WRECK. 
 
MIDNIGHT ON THE CLIFFS. 
 
 Midnight ! I love thy silent solemn hour. 
 
 Alone I wander on those tow'ring cliffs, 
 
 While all around is awfully sublime. 
 
 Though some may view thee with a secret dread, 
 
 I hail thy presence with a pleasing awe ; 
 
 Now is the soul awake, and free from care. 
 
 Surveys the works of Him, whose powerful arm, 
 
 Laid yonder ocean in its boundless bed. 
 
 And stretch'd the heavens o'er its ripling breast ; 
 
 Form'd yon majestic orb, which through the night, 
 
 Rolling in grandem*, through the ethereal way — 
 
 Sheds forth her light over nature's sable face. 
 
 Dispelling gloom, and making night appear 
 
 One glorious scene of beauty and delight. 
 
 Now, are the busy toils of day all done — 
 A holy stillness reigns, and all is calm ; 
 
46 MIDNIGHT ON THE CLIFFS. 
 
 The weary craftsman, on his humble couch, 
 Prostate with the toil of the by-gone day, 
 Is wrapt in quiet and refreshing sleep ; 
 While nature, ever watchful o'er her works. 
 Opens the channels of his weaken'd frame. 
 And pouring in the invigourating 
 Spirit, — prepares him 'gain his slumbers break. 
 To meet the toil of the forthcoming morn. 
 
 TMs is the Jaour the hapless slave obtains 
 
 A respite shorty from those inhuman wrongs, 
 
 Which heartless man, mth, cruel arm inflicts 
 
 Upon^ this poor and unprotected race, 
 
 Against the holy law of 'nature's God. 
 
 Sleep on, sleep on, ye abject sons of toil, 
 
 WhUe o'er your worn and lacerated limbs 
 
 Angels of mercy drop their healing tears 
 
 Within the wounds the oppressor's hand hath made. 
 
 This is the hour the murderer stalks forthj 
 With mind resolved upon some bloody' deed ; 
 
MIDNIGHT ON THE CLIFFS. 
 
 47 
 
 With noiseless step, he softly treads the earth, 
 Which shrinks beneath the weight of guilt it bears ; 
 The fiends of darkness light him on his way, 
 Warming with hell's hot flame his trembling soul ; 
 Cursing the moon's beams he glides along, 
 Like some fierce tiger hunting for his prey ; 
 The hapless victim of the damning deed. 
 Unconscious, sleeps — one sigl^ — and all is o'er. 
 And now the blood-stained wretch bursts wildly forth, 
 Gasping for breath, and heaven's refreshing air ; 
 To suit his purpose he denied his God ; 
 But fiery conscience, with the lightnings flash, 
 Strikes deep conviction to his trembling heart, 
 And all around is horror and dispair. 
 
 Upwards I turn my eye, and there behold, 
 Heaven's blue vaults in majesty arrayed, 
 Through which a thousand sparkling worlds roll on, 
 To some great end unknown to mortals here, 
 Save that we see throughout the whole design, 
 The power of Him who made and- guides the whole. 
 
48 MIDNIUHT ON THE CLIFFS. 
 
 How stately rides the mistress of the night — 
 Her flood of light in softest beams descend 
 Upon the ocean's wide-expanding breast, — 
 F orming a silvery path to those who fate 
 Decrees to wander on the boundless deep. 
 
 Midnight ! thou stilly yet pregnant hour — what deeds 
 Of import ^reat have" often been design'd 
 Within the compass of thy narrow span. 
 Thrones which an hour before have safely stood 
 Firm and secure as adamantine rock, 
 Have oft been seen to tremble at their base ; 
 Kings, who on gold and purple couches slept 
 In fancied strength and calm security, 
 Have frantic'lly rush'd from their costly beds. 
 While in their ears rung loud rebellion's nole ; 
 And, ere, the morning broke upon the world — 
 They wandered forth unpitied and forlorn. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 H. HAKT, PBINTEK AND PUBLISljEK, HISH STREET, KAMSGATE. 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PR 4349.B515W9 
 
 The wreck of the "Northern Belle"; or, Th 
 
 3 1924 013 448 109 
 

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