Chapter 12

GRACE TO THE RESCUE.

"Thus her compassion woman shows, Beneath the line her acts are these; Nor the wide waste of Lapland snows, Can her warm flow of piety freeze. From some sad land the stranger comes, Where joys like ours are never found, Let's soothe him in our happy homes, Where freedom sits with plenty crowned.

"Man may the sterner virtues know, Determined justice, truth severe; But female hearts with pity glow, And women holds affliction dear; For guiltless woes her sorrow flows, And suffering vice compels her tear; 'Tis hers to soothe the ills below, And bid life's fairer views appear.

"To woman's gentle kind we owe What comforts and delights us here; They, its gay hopes on youth bestow, And care they soothe, and age they cheer."--Crabbe.

That night Grace could not sleep. Had she been any other girl, indeed, there would have been nothing remarkable in that, for the storm was tremendous. But dwellers in lighthouses are so used to storms, that generally they take but little notice of them; and the fact that this storm really sent a thrill of solicitude to the hearts of the Darlings, is enough to convince us that it must have been of an unusually furious nature.

On this memorable 6th of September, 1838, when the "Forfarshire" sailed, a fisher boat came from North Sunderland to the Longstone rock, bringing packets and letters for the Darling family. At that time the weather was comparatively fine and the sea calm; and there wore no particular signs to warn them of any material change in the atmosphere. The day passed much as usual, but towards evening heavy masses of clouds collected, and those who were weather-wise knew that it was likely to become tempestuous. These surmises soon became certainties; and presently a tremendous wind arose, and beat around the rocks and the lighthouse that was upon them; and a deluge of rain began to fall. The storm grew worse every half-hour until even the calm spirit of Mr. Darling was perturbed.

"Oh, hark at the winds! I do not know when they have blown with so much fury," he said.

Mrs. Darling's face was pale, and Grace found it quite impossible even to concentrate her thoughts upon her favourite books, while the tumult raged outside.

"I hope it will soon be more quiet," she said. "Nobody could sleep in such a storm as this."

"May God have mercy upon the poor fellows at sea tonight," said her father; "for many a one is in great danger because of this gale."

"The wind seems to sigh in every cleft of the rocks tonight," said his wife. "I hope we are safe, William."

"Our tower will not be blown down," said her husband, smiling away her fears. "I wish all the sailors were as safe as we are."

"I am not afraid," said Grace; "but no one can listen to this awful wind without feeling some emotion and awe."

"It is, indeed, an awful wind," said Darling, "and one does not care to hear it, though his own home be as firm as a rock."

They sat together, scarcely speaking, until a late hour; but as the night advanced, the storm raged yet more furiously.

"It seems as if the very spirit of mischief is abroad," remarked Grace.

"But as we can do no good by staying up," said her mother, "we had better retire to rest."

Grace, however, was strangely loth to do so; and when, at last, she went to her own room, she could not sleep. Even when she was sinking into a doze, a terrible gust of wind would beat against the wall, and make the girl's heart leap within her, and cause her to listen in breathless attention to the mighty battle that was raging without. So she lay for several hours; and even when at last she fell asleep, her slumbers were very disturbed, and her dreams most uneasy.

In the morning, before daylight dawned, something awoke her. She rose hastily in bed, with wide-opened eyes, that seemed to listen intently.

"What was it that awoke me, I wonder! It might have been the wind; and yet it seemed to me more than the wind. It must have been human cries, but cries uttered in the most awful distress, or they could not have been heard above the gale."

So she said to herself, as with white face, and trembling pulses, she listened, and scarcely dared to breathe.

"Perhaps, after all, I was dreaming," she thought, as for a few moments she did not hear the sound she waited for. "The wailings of the winds might have deceived me, though I should not have thought they could do so, since I am so used to hear them."

Again she listened; and presently she heard piercing, penetrating cries of those whose agony had become almost unbearable.

Then she sprang out of bed, with some such thought as this--"O God, help me, and show me what is right to do." With trembling, agitated fingers, she hastened to dress, and then, without losing a moment needlessly, she hurried to her father.

"Why, Grace, what is the matter, child!" said he.

"Oh, father, I feel sure there has been a wreck near! I have heard the most awful shrieks that I ever in my life heard before; and I am sure some poor wretches are drowning."

"Nonsense, Grace! You were very nervous last night, and you look as if you have not slept. Your fears have mastered you. That which you thought a cry was only the wind. At least we may hope so; for I do not think you could hear screams, or anything else, in such a storm."

"But, father, I am sure that the cries came from human beings in extremity. Do believe me, for I know it is the truth, and not any foolish fancy of mine. Listen for yourself."

"It is no use, Grace; nothing can be heard but the wind."

"But, father, I know there is a wreck not far from the island."

Mr. Darling shook his head, and tried to appear indifferent.

"Even if it is so, Grace, we can do nothing," said he.

"Oh, yes, father, we must go to their rescue," replied his daughter.

"What is the use of your talking like that, Grace? If your brothers were at home, we might attempt it; but now it is altogether out of the question."

"No, indeed, father, it must not be out of the question. Can we let our fellow creatures perish without making an effort to save them? If we did so, I am sure we should never, either of us, be happy again. Do let us go, father! I can help you in the rowing of the boat, and God will protect us. Only think what it would be to save the lives of those poor half-drowned men and women?"

"But I don't think it can be right, Grace."

"Oh, father, why do you lose time? It cannot be right to hesitate," said the girl, in convincing tones.

Mr. Darling looked anxiously through his telescope. It was scarcely light, and there was a heavy mist hanging over the island. The wind was not as violent as it had been, but the sea was still very furious. William Darling strained his eyes as he looked through the good glass, and presently he saw that which he looked for. About half-a-mile away, there were the shipwrecked sufferers, still clinging to their only hope, the broken pieces of the ship. He thought for a moment or two, and Grace's earnest pleading prevailed. He knew that she never before had been called upon to render such assistance; but he knew too, that she was a brave girl, and would do her best.

"Very well, Grace; I will let you persuade me, though it is against my better judgment."

Grace joyfully kissed her father, and he began to prepare.

"What will your mother say, Grace?" he asked the next moment.

The loving girl dreaded her more than the waves. Mrs. Darling, when she heard of it, could not give her consent.

"Oh, William, I cannot believe that you will be so mad! If there has been a shipwreck, and lives lost, what is the use of your adding your own death to the number? Nothing can save you. The boat will not live ten minutes in such a sea."

"Oh yes, my dear; I think we will come back again all right. Don't make yourself miserable for nothing," said her husband.

"Do you not care, William, that you leave me a desolate widow, with none to provide for me? You are wicked to go. It is tempting Providence, and you ought to be afraid to do it," said the wife, through her tears.

"Hush! mother dear," said Grace. "Indeed, we must go. How can we remain quietly here, while our fellow creatures are crying out for help?"

"Grace, you are a foolish girl; you ought not to urge your father to lose his life, nor to be so willing to risk your own. Think of me, and what I shall do if both of you are drowned."

It was, after all, the natural cry of such a woman as Mrs. Darling. It is not every body that can bear to risk a beloved life, that the lives of strangers may be saved. The wife of the lighthouse-keeper was very sorry for the poor wretches who were clinging to the rock in the cold and rain; but why should her own home be put in jeopardy that they might be rescued! How many women, the wives of soldiers, or sailors, or missionaries, have felt the same? And yet it is generally the cause of right and humanity that wins the day.

Mrs. Darling clung to her husband as if she would not let him go, but Grace remained true and steadfast to her noble purpose, and only waited till the mother grew a little more calm, to press the matter again, and before long they could see that she half-yielded. That was enough!

"Good-bye, mother. God will bring us back to you in safety, never fear; and no doubt we shall bring some poor half-drowned creatures with us, so you had better get the beds warmed and have everything comfortable," said Grace, in strong, cheering tones.

Mrs. Darling found that all her beseeching was in vain; and she could only hope for the best, and keep herself as quiet as possible. She was, however, half-frantic with fear, as she bade them good-bye, and then watched, with streaming eyes, the fragile little boat venture out upon the awful waters. And yet she could not but feel that they were doing rightly, and at the last she had herself helped to launch the boat. But she wrung her hands as she saw them go, and prayed earnestly to God that he would indeed take care of them, and bring them safely back to her.

It is said that Grace was the first to seize an oar, and spring into the boat; but her father, who was a brave man, quickly followed, and the two were soon working together in harmony. They scarcely spoke at first, William Darling only giving Grace a few directions with regard to the management of the boat, and then both used their utmost endeavours to propel her towards the desired spot.

One moment we must linger to look at the heroic girl as she sits firmly in the boat, with a steady light in her eyes, lips firmly compressed, and strong brave heart. Could we have seen Grace Darling in more attractive guise? The thunderous waves were leaping and foaming around the little boat; the dark clouds were lowering, and the winds blowing furiously. The afrighted sea-birds looked at them, and screamed shrilly as they saw the boat rocked to and fro, now leaping on the top of a wave that tossed it high, and now sinking down, down, as if it were going to the very bottom of the deep. But Grace was not afraid. She scarcely thought of the danger; for her heart and sympathy were with those who were on the rock. Long before she got to them, her imagination pictured the patient faces, full of pain, which would grow bright when they saw her; and as she thought of them, her arm gained new strength, and she went on again more energetically than before. Was she, indeed, a girl? Had she sisters, who cried out if a pain touched them, and who were always helplessly appealing to men for help? Did she know what fear was? Yes; she knew that she would always be afraid of her own thoughts, if she did not what she could to rescue the shipwrecked strangers.

On they went, over the stormy waters, every minute being nearer their goal. The foam dashed in the face of the intrepid girl, and the salt water made her eyes smart; but she did not relax her efforts, but kept nobly and steadily at her work. Her father could not but admire her courage; and the sight of it gave him even more determination to succeed.

"Are you getting tired, my girl?" he asked presently.

"Not very, father. We shall do it," she replied.

"Yes, I really hope we shall. There they are, poor wretches, glad enough to see us, I know. It is a good thing it is an ebb tide. If it had not been, we could not have passed between the islands. It will be flowing when we come back; and if there are no sailors to help us, we may as well make up our minds to stay on the rocks with the others, for we shall not be able to get home again."

"Do not let us meet trouble half-way, father; the sailors will be able to help us."

They pulled hard a little longer, and then contrived to reach the rock on which the sufferers were waiting.

"Pray, take care, Grace."

"All right, father. Do not be afraid. I will not risk all by my mismanagement."

"If the coble is beaten against the rocks, she will be smashed to pieces."

"I will take care, father. Cannot you land now? See, there is a chance. Now, father!"

With a tremendous effort, Darling got on the rock, and immediately Grace rowed the boat back so as to keep her afloat on the water, and free of the dangerous reefs.

In the meantime, the sufferers on the rock had taken hope.

"There is a boat coming," one had shouted to the rest; and the very words had a miraculously quickening force in them. They looked eagerly out, but could scarcely believe that it would be in the power of those two occupants to rescue them.

"One is a woman," said a sailor, with moisture in his eyes. "God bless her; she is an angel sent from Heaven to succour us."

This man let the tears stream down his weather-beaten cheeks, while he watched the girl's heroic efforts, and prayed fervently that God would bless and prosper them.

William Darling could scarcely help weeping, too, while he looked at the sufferers, for their state was truly dreadful. They had strength enough left, however, to cry to him, and bless him and his; and he was thankful to find the sailors not so utterly exhausted, but that they were able to render some assistance.

"Who is to be the first?" cried Darling. "The boat is ready, and by God's help we shall save you all. Cheer up. Hope for the best, and help yourselves as much as possible."

His cheery words had a magic effect upon the sufferers, who immediately "took heart again," and rose to their feet in faith and hope.

The greatest care and caution were necessary, in order to get the survivors safely into the boat. Poor Mrs. Dawson, we may be sure, was one of the first, who, in a half-fainting, and very weak condition, and bemoaning the loss of her children, was safely placed in the coble by the kind assistance of Grace, her father, and the sailors. The bereaved mother found a friend and sympathiser in Grace, whose womanly pity flowed in tears, and whose kind heart was greatly touched by the signs of suffering that she saw. At present, however, she had no leisure to express her pity; for all her care was needed to assist in the escape of the others. As one by one they entered the little boat, and thanked God for their deliverance, Grace could not quite keep the tears of joy from her eyes.

"God bless you; but ye're a bonny English girl," said one poor fellow, as he looked most wondering at her; and the praise of the half-drowned man, whose life she had saved, was dearer to Grace Darling than any of the praises that were afterwards heaped upon her. Her young arms ached, and her back was full of pain, when the last sufferer was safely in the boat, and they prepared to row back to the land; but little cared she for that, since God had given her the joy she craved.

The return was even more perilous than the outward journey had been. The coble was full of precious human beings; but the sea abated none of its fury, that it might ride the more safely. But divine strength was behind that of the slender arms of William Darling's daughter, and the girl's matchless heroism did not fail her now. Her powers of endurance were great, her purpose good, and her devotion strong; and she did not relax her efforts until their own loved Longstone rock was reached.

Mrs. Darling, whose face bore signs of the most intense anxiety, went to the beach to meet them on their return, and eagerly embraced her husband and child, when they stepped from the boat. Surely, if ever a mother had reason to be proud of her daughter, it was the mother of Grace Darling.

"You are back in safety, then," said she, while the tears of welcome sprang to her eyes.

"Certainly, mother. Did I not tell you that God would take care of us! And see, we have brought nine persons from the rock."

"And saved nine lives!" exclaimed Mrs. Darling.

"That depends a little upon your nursing, mother. We have taken them from the rocks, but they are in a most deplorable condition," said Grace.

They were indeed; but the hospitable lighthouse-home was ready to receive them, and thither they were all conveyed.

At first, they were so hungry and tired, so bruised and broken, that they could not talk much. Besides, they had--many of them, at least--lost their friends and personal belongings, and were feeling sad and miserable enough. But Grace, though her limbs must have been aching, and she must have felt weary and exhausted, began to minister to their wants as soon as they were safely in her father's house; and for the next three days and three nights she found plenty of delightful occupation in soothing their sorrow, and nursing them back to health and strength. As these returned, the survivors became more and more conscious of the great debt which they owed to Grace Darling. They told her what their feelings were when they saw the boat coming toward them, and Grace herself, like an angel of mercy, in it. And Mrs. Darling explained that, but for Grace, their rescue would not have been attempted, since even the brave heart of her husband failed before the awful possibilities of venturing on such a sea with only two pair of hands. How must they, who owed their lives to the undaunted heroism of the kindly maiden, have loved and almost worshipped her, as they saw her moving, in most beautiful simplicity and modest unostentation, among them in her own home!

As for Grace; it may safely be said that she did not know that she had done anything at all remarkable until the world told her so. It is almost certain that she did it because she could not help it. We are sure that it did not enter into her mind to suppose that she was performing a deed of heroism for which all mankind would bless and laud her memory. She simply could not know of her fellow creatures in peril, without attempting to rescue them. Their sorrows and distresses found a ready echo in her own heart, and she must almost have wished for wings that she might fly at once to their succour.

And the maiden had her reward long before her deed of heroism had been published in the papers, and brought upon her the thanks and praises of the whole land. In the quiet recesses of her girl's loving heart there was great joy that night. She did not care whether or not anybody heard of her or her deeds. Nine persons had been saved from a watery grave through her strong persistance and courage. Nine lives were saved for usefulness and pleasure. Perhaps nine homes were preserved from sorrow and darkness, because an intrepid girl had ventured out upon the stormy sea. And as she thought of this, it was in no spirit of boasting, but rather in that of thankful humility, which drew her down to her knees, while she offered her devout prayer to God who had thus prospered her work. And surely, to complete her joy, there must have come to her before-hand the loving words of Him whose example Grace Darling had but copied. Did not the Master of all faithful souls come to "seek and to save that which was lost?" And would not He say to her, "Well done, good and faithful servant," and of her, "She hath done what she could?"

We cannot but praise her. Knowing what epithets of adulation were lavished upon her, we yet cannot help feeling that she deserved all the honest commendation which she received. It was a sublime deed of heroism; a splendid example of womanly unselfishness and love. That a timid girl should thus brave danger, by cleaving her way through the seas which she had thus grave reason to fear, with none but her father by her side, was indeed a matchless achievement. Grace Darling forgot herself, or she could not have done it. And she showed, on that day, how weakness can become strong, and timidity courageous; and it is little wonder, indeed, that even the cold world should have been stirred to give her most loyal admiration and praise.

Long, very long, indeed, may it be before the memory of the gallant deed shall die out! May hundreds of thousands of girls, alike in humble or lofty positions, be taught by it to be self-forgetful, brave, and eager to save others. And may many noble Englishwomen arise who shall have reason to thank God for the lesson which they learnt from the life of the heroine of the Farne Isles, Grace Darling!

It may be that to those who read these pages such an opportunity as that afforded to the lighthouse-maiden may never come. But none the less does every woman's life need the same qualities that she possessed; for courage, intrepidity, self-forgetfulness, and tender sympathy for the suffering, are the needs of each day.

"The trivial round, the common task, Will furnish all we ought to ask: Room to deny ourselves--a road To bring us daily nearer God."

And it is those who cultivate these higher qualities that will have presence of mind when any emergency arises to do promptly the very best that can be done. Only let our women simply do their duty, looking to Heaven for guidance, and if they are not Grace Darlings, they will be as true and good, and perhaps almost as useful as she.