A THRILLING SCENE ON THE COAST OF DURHAM.

New Zealand Spectator and Cook's Strait Guardian, Volume VIII, Issue 698, 10 April 1852, Page 4

A THRILLING SCENE ON THE COAST OF DURHAM.

[From the Durham Advertiser.) At Seaton Carew, recently, the morning broke with clouds and wind. About eight o’clock the rain began to fall, and continued throughout the day without intermission until towards evening, when the wind increased to a perfect gale from the north-east, and the rain fell in torrents, lashing the sea to its utmost fury. Through the whole night the storm continued unabated, and on the following morning, the sea appeared in all its wildness. Many an anxious glance was cast across the waves, in constant apprehension of the appearance of vessels at sea until towards midday. A vessel was then descried beating before the wind, and rapidly approaching the ridge of sunken rocks. In a few minutes more she began to show evident symptoms of distress—she was on the ridge. The excitement at Seaton then became intense. The tramping of horses and the rush of men was heard, and above the sound of wind and waves was heard the cry of “ The Life Boat! the Life Boat!” Among the first who reached the boat-house we observed the devoted clergyman of the place, who, though dienched with wet, never left the ground till all was over, when his valuable services were required to attend the rescued mariners. His presence evidently inspired with courage and energy his hardy flock, every man of whom knew him well and loved him well. The horses were quickly attached to the boat. The party then proceeded along the beach towards Stranton. The wind at this time blew so fiercely that they could not press beyond a foot pace, and those on foot could with difficulty make their way. Meanwhile the vessel at sea showed terrible symptoms of distress. The sails were tern to shreds—the masts seemed bending to the very water—and to increase the excitement and deep anxiety of the mcment, another vessel • was now descried rushing into equal danger. It was then determined to proceed no further, but at once put to sea. About half-a-mile to our north, we perceived that the West Hartlepool life-boat had also arrived, and was already launched. The Seaton boat was then launched. Instantly a little band of gallant heroes clung to its sides and clambered into it. Long and vigorous were their efforts before they could master the surge, and put to sea, as again and again they were driven back. At length, however, they fairly cleared the surge, and got into more open sea, but it soon, alas 1 became apparent that the winds and waves were too powei fully against them, that they could not make their way to the vessel. The ship at this time bad become a perfect wreck. Masts and sails, all bad disappeared, save only a dark and shattered mass of timber, over which the wild waves dashed fearfully. The only hope under heaven now rested in the crew of the Hartlepool boat, who had more advantage from their position, Still, however, they seemed to make but little way. At this time all seemed over. No movement or sign of life appeared upon the deck. Yes, there is a movement! It is a white flag—a signal for help. Hasten, oh ! hasten, ye gallant crew-—onward, oh ! on to the rescue. Then was seen the strength and power of English bone and sinew. Then was seen how a British sailor pulls. '1 hey advance —they gain ground sensibly—visibly—quickly. Ever and anon the slight bark is hid beneath the wave ; they are covered with the spray as they strain every nerve, and press on with all their powers. They have gained the wreck—one is rescued. Again and again they pull in. Another and another is rescued, until 5 out of 7 are saved. Two poor fellows met a watery grave ; but what human strength could do was done to save them. Ten minutes more, and the whole wreck had broken up and was driven about in separate fragments. As the crew pulled for shore, all attention was now directed to the second vessel. For some minutes she strained fearfully, and then overturned in an instant. The crew, however, clung to the side, and to the rigging- The Seaton life-boat, which knew that here was work still before them, had by this time gained the shore, and was now mounted and on its way to the second vessel. Again they put to sea, headed by the gallant Old Hood, of Seaton, who has so often aided in the rescue. After great exertion, they had just reached the wreck when a cry was heard, “ A man overboard ! a comrade overboard |” Instantly every oar was plied with fearful vigour to save their comrade, and they did recover him, hut almost lifeless—a brave fellow named Hood, from Hartlepool ; he now lies in a dangerous state. The ground, however, thus lost, it was impossible to recover, and as the poor sailors saw themselves left, hope died in every breast. Still, however, though human aid seemed unavailing, a merciful Providence watched over them. The tide had now set in with a heavy swell, and bore the wreck before it towards the shore. At length it approached the cliff and settled in the sand, four poor fellows (the whole of the crew) still cling to the side, but worn and exhausted. Between them and the cliff the heavy surge howled beneath, covering them with its spray. A rocket was now procured on shore, by which a rope was successfully launched to the wreck-. As they seized the rope new hope seemed to spring up in every breast, new life to animate every frame. A stronger rope was then sent out on which a life buoy was sent along, and thus one by one they were all drawn safe to shore. The last man was rescued about 6 in the evening. Both ships’ crews were taken to the two hotels of the place, where they were well attended to. The first vessel belonged to Dundee. The second, the Mary Gray, of Montrose, was heavily laden with pit props. Next day a contribution was made among the visitors and others of Seaton for the sufferers ; and liberal presents were made by Mr. Backhouse to the crews of both life-boats, and also to the ship-wrecked sailors. I will not, says our correspondent, close this account without expressing a hope that some of your readers, who live more inland, and far from such terrible scenes, will contribute either money or clothing to add to the little stock kept by the vicar for such occasions as these. There can be no deception or imposition here.