Wreck of the Stanley by J. Gilbert

Taken from the original account of the wreck written by Mr.James Gilbert, the coxswain of the Tynemouth Lifeboat Constance in 1864.

                                                On the forecastle the Mariner stood,

                                                And poured forth his sorrowful tale,

                                                While his tears fell unseen in the flood,

                                                And his sighs passed unheard in the gale.

                                                                                                Assian

 The morning of the 24th November 1864 dawned on the Northumberland coast with a cold grey sky and a fresh breeze from the N.N.E. with every appearance of increasing wind as the day advanced, but up to about 9.30 a.m. some of the Cullercoats fishing cobles were out and made for the harbour. At that time, the wind gradually increased to a breeze, the sky becoming more and more overcast with a deep leaden hue. The sea at that time was nothing worth noticing.  About 11 a.m. it had got round to E.N.E. and was still freshening with the sea making along the coast. Here and there a ship to the eastward could be seen making its way south keeping a good offing. The sky to the eye of a close watcher at that time was beginning to look anything but pleasant.

After mid-day, things changed for the worst, but still there was nothing to cause alarm to the man who knew nothing of the sea or its dangers, but the wind was still freshening and the sea was beginning to run cross as the tide began to ebb, with still larger leaden clouds gathering to the eastward. At about 1.30 p.m., the sea first showed signs of breaking in the channel between the piers. Still the wind was on the increase and inclined to get to the southward of east, but up to this time nothing of any moment had taken place. The sea seemed now to be getting still stronger and running still crosser. The wind at this time had increased nothing for the last hour but was shifting to the south eastwards with a gloomy appearance.

Few ships were to be seen about. At 2.00 p.m., a small trading schooner in tow of a tug entered. It had a coble towing astern and taking a run on a heavy sea turned bottom up, broke her tow rope and drove to sea. Fortunately, the Pilot was on board the schooner and saved their lives.

The weather at this time had made no change or improvement. It was now about 2.15 p.m. A Commissioners’ hopper in tow of a tug approached the harbour. The sea and strong ebb tide carried them towards the north beside the rubble. With the sea running high it was evident to all that there was little chance of escape for the hopper. For, as she neared the staging, she was struck by a succession of heavy seas. The tow rope parted and the hopper dashed among the piles and, after doing a great amount of damage, came onto the rocks behind the North Pier. While all this was going on, the tug had a narrow escape but at last entered the harbour. In the meantime, all was confusion on the North Pier. The lives of the two men in the hopper were at stake; rope lifebuoys were quickly at work and every workman under the Commissioners vied to be the first. The hopper by this time was driven within about 14 feet of the wall, the sea making a clean sweep over them, not one moment was to be lost. Fortunately, the life-buoys were carried over the men and the desperate effort each man made to save himself was something wonderful for they escaped with a few bruises, truly thankful for their deliverance. Everything belonging to the hopper was saved and the craft carried away to the rocks under the castle foot. An order at once being given to secure the broken staging, every man was told off, some leading piles, others getting chairs, wedges etc., all ready for the work at the Pier end.

All this time, night was fast closing in and everything had the appearance of what a sailor calls a wild night; large drops of rain fell at times bearing you in mind of a wind feeder. The sea and the wind had both increased to a fresh gale or a double reeft topsail when again the alarm was given. A small schooner struck on the west side of the Spanish Battery rocks and stopped. At this time, 4.00 p.m., the tide was about half spent, the wind E.S.E. and the sea high. The rocket gear was taken down but never used as it was supposed the Shields Life Boats had saved the crew. Darkness now began to gather over us so that by the time the Pier was regained, it became so dark it was impossible to tell one man from another. No change of wind or sea, whilst the grey clouds passed over with showers of rain, time at about 5.15 p.m. Some 40 or 50 men were at work at that time and the sea was one white wreath from the Pier end right into Freestone Point under the Spanish Battery.

In less time than I can describe, a large bright light was seen a little S.E. of the staging. That was quickly made out to be that of a steamer entering the Tyne but it appeared to be too far north. With the ebb tide and high sea running on his Port quarter, every man watched in silence till the vessel was in that long streak of broken water, from which she never recovered herself to get south into a better channel, and in about 5 minutes she struck the S.E. point of the Spanish Battery Rocks.

As soon as possible, two rockets were fired from the ill-fated ship, about 15 men seen running for the Life-Boat; and with a quickness seldom witnessed, the boat was out of the house, and having a long way to drag her, there was no time lost before every man was in his place. The greater part of them ran over the bank instead of stopping to launch the Boat. The ebb was still bending out and, with a desperate effort and the help of a few men, we got afloat and had just made a fair start when the voice of a man shouted on the Pier to come back as all the crew were saved. For a moment our progress was stopped, then after a pause it was thought most prudent to land and dispatch one of the crew and get a true statement in the time we got the Boat on the carriage and were ready for launching again.

By this time, we had lost about one hour. The man came back saying a few had been saved and some lost, and that the rocket gear had got foul of the rocks, and all communication cut off, but that she was a passenger ship from Aberdeen. The ebb tide was finished and a young flood was bending in so that we were quite satisfied of our danger, but that thought was quickly dismissed and off we went with the assistance of a few helpers. By this time two of the cattle were running about the Haven. We had good fortune to get well out to the eastward before we had any heavy water. I should say for about 8 or 10 minutes all went well with every prospect of being successful. The Boat then began to meet the sea more quickly and the sea began to tell heavier as we worked south but everything was going well, no man was heard to speak but all was attention. By this time we were drawing slowly but surely outside of the Steamer’s port quarter and shipping some heavy seas. The darkness, at this time with heavy showers of rain, almost hid the ship from view, but on we went, every men sticking to his oar like a rock, not one shifted from his seat. The rain ceased for a few minutes and we got a look at the ship and our own position. We could then observe the huge waves breaking over the vessel s after end with terrific force, being end on to the incoming waves. Now being all clear of the rocks and the Steamer, we backed astern keeping the boat bowing the sea, which was now breaking continuously over the boat and the men, until we found we were abreast of the other vessel, a Schooner that proved to be the Friendship which had grounded just before 4 p.m. and was settling down as the flood made.

We then shouted to the Steamer and received an answer. The order was then given to pull and as we had to cross the Schooner’s bows it was a most dangerous game, but there was no help for it, if any shelter was to be got it was under the starboard or inner bow. All was going well, the Boat making good way and close under the bows. A heavy sea then swept along the port side and fell on the Boat and men and buried them beneath, cutting all the starboard oars at the gunwale with the outer ends swept away. As soon as the crew found themselves clear of the sea they made a grasp for the spare oars. Three of them were gone, two only remained. We were then drifting astern when a second heavy sea struck the Boat and lifted her into the fore rigging of the Friendship. With a crash, away went the port oars. The Boat, being almost perpendicular at this moment, stood in the balance, with her after compartment completely buried so that the steer oar struck the bottom and broke in three pieces.

As the sea left us, the Boat fell and then we knew that one of our crew was lost, for two others held on to the man until compelled to let go for their own preservation. But behold our surprise at seeing five men in a group abreast of the main mast. We implored them to jump into the Boat as their last and only chance but no man spoke or even moved. It was now time to look to our own position for it was a most risky one, nothing but a sheet of white water and the darkness, with heavy showers of rain. Ours was anything but an enviable one. The Schooner, with the flood, was fast settling down and our Boat was level with the ship. The two spare oars were shipped on the starboard or lee side of the Boat, all being ready and still calling on the crew of the Friendship to come into the Boat but without any response. A heavy sea struck the Boat and she canted the right way. If ever men s energies were fully tested it was now, for there was nothing but one white sheet of foam all round to windward and under our lee, the foundation stone of Tynemouth Dock and the Black Middens. Having two men with boathook in hand, the two oars double banked and going at from 40 to 45 degrees of an angle through the sea, our progress was slow. Only shipping two heavy seas and striking the foundation stone with the Boat hook, we slowly bore away before the sea and the tide. For the first time we called the names of the crew and think what dismay covered every face when we found four wanting.

Now there was little time to be lost, every nerve was strained to reach the shore. The Shields Life Boats were the first we spoke to, asking them to lend us oars, but they had none to spare. This was just below the Commissioners’ Jetties, we struck across for the sand end and met the salvage boat William Wake. They got our line and gave us a click to the shore for which our Chairman rewarded them with five Pounds.

We were now surrounded by the crowd and asked a thousand questions but without our Boat and gear, which we handed over to the charge of the customs, we made our way back to Tynemouth, avoiding all who were likely to stop us or ask us a question until we knew the fate of our men. We had got as far as the road leading to the Battery when we were met by one of the Life Boat Committee, to whom I told in a few hasty words what had happened. We then made our way through the crowds to the bank. Our duty lay on the shore and our labour was not long lost. We soon found Grant and carried him to the Life Boat House. Robson was found a little nearer Shields and was taken there by this time. Blackburn and Bell, who had stopped on board the Schooner until she broke up, washed ashore and were conveyed to their homes and, under the care of the Doctors, soon recovered.

About 10.30 p.m., the Steamer had just parted in the way of the engine room and the fore part, with the main mast and fore mast still standing, turned round with head to the eastward, the after end, with the missen-mast standing, lying where she had struck. Nothing more could be done as the tide was fast flowing and every person had to leave the rocks.

My next duty was to make my report to our indefatigable Secretary, Mr.Messent, whom I found had just left the banks for a short time and retired to his own house, and, as everyone was waiting for the next ebb, there was no sleep thought of. I then gave him a brief account of our unfortunate night s work up to that time, which affected him very much. Tired as we all were, there was no thought of rest.

I then made once more for the Battery Banks and met the Boat's crew with many others all wanting to know the story of the night. It was now past mid-night and, passing through the various groups, many strange stories were going on. One was that the Coast Guard had taken the only working set of rocket apparatus to the Low Lights and, not being able to get a tug, had left it there, and on making enquiries, I found it was true, nothing was left but the foul gear on the Steamer or rocks. The prospect was very serious, then about high water, as I wandered about and through the crowds, I found part of our Tynemouth men and they soon informed me what was going on. They had despatched a trusty man with a horse and cart to Cullercoats for their rockets and this was very quietly done and the whole thing was not to be mentioned. In due time, the cart arrived and was at once taken down to the Haven out of sight, and with the coxswain of the Percy and several fishermen to lend a helping hand as soon as the tide ebbed out, the gear was carried round the rocks, and many a hard fall there was in the darkness and bad rocks.

Now at this time, no one on the banks knew anything of the work that was going on below, nor was it the intention of the men to do so as some sharp words had passed about leaving the rocket gear at Shields. As the tide receded, out went the gear. Morning was fast advancing, the tide fast falling, not the slightest sign of any preparation on the bank top. Here and there Gentlemen I knew well were exchanging words about the careless and indifferent manner things were carried out inside the Battery. At the same time, the men of Tynemouth and Cullercoats were quite prepared when the time arrived and that was not until the tide had made out, but all was now ready. We now began to think that to use the rocket without informing the Officer would be a great injustice and most likely to bring an enquiry and damage him in the Service for life. We at once resolved to inform him that all was prepared for a start and we at once put our resolve into execution for which he thanked us. He then turned his men out and, followed by a large crowd from the Banks, the rocks were once more alive. The Officer, now being present, assumed the command. The rocket, pointed to the after end of the ill fated ship, was at once despatched. It fell over the wreck but there was no response. Sharp went three more in the same fatal course, all was as silent as the grave, no response from the wreck, things looked very gloomy. The rocket was hauled back. Her again some sharp words fell from some of the Gentlemen onlookers and at last it was determined to alter the rocket stand and fire the last and only rocket over the fore part of the Steamer. This was quickly done by a fisherman from Cullercoats, called Chisholm, and away went the rocket over the unfortunate ship. All was attention and you could see the direction it fell by the fire.

There arose a faint cheer from the wreck which was responded to by the crowds on the rocks. In a very short time the whips were off and made fast. The men on shore very quickly hauled the hawser off, on went the cradle and to the satisfaction of all, the first lady was landed, placed in the care of a few carefully picked married men, and carried to the Battery. The next was a Lady and afterwards the men followed quickly. The morning was dawning and everyone could see all round at last. The last man out of the 32 was landed then went forth a ringing cheer. The only thing left was the body of a lady lashed on deck. Then some of our men wanted to go off and bring the body on shore, but the Officer had given the order to cut the hawser. The order was carried out and the hawser twirled through the air like a snake. It was all over.

The blood red sun rose above the horizon, what a sad, sickening sight met the eye. Few would believe the destruction of life and property on one small spot. In a few short hours the passengers and crew were well cared for by the Gentlemen of Tynemouth and everything done that could be done for their comfort. By this time, the flood tide was making, and the sea was still high, nothing could be observed of the Friendship but a few pieces of old rotten wreck amongst the rocks as all traces of ever being a ship had disappeared.

Our sad night and morning s work had almost finished but due to the crew of the Life-Boat there was still one sad duty to perform and it was the first of the ill fated ship. At the bottom of the Boat-ways lay the body of a beautiful young girl, wrapped closely around with a large shawl and well prepared for a cold night, but alas the storm fiend had done its work. The boat house was still open and there stood the boatless carriage; everyone looked on. In deep silence and sorrow we lifted her gently up and laid her as gently down in that deserted house, now the house of Death, and with one sad look closed the doors on part of that sad scene of that eventful night.

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