" It is a very curious thing, indeed; but I should like to hear about it from the man himself," I said, rather doubtfully, in reply to the lady who had been telling me the outline of the following story. " Very well," she returned; " come down to Charmouth, and F ------ will take you to see him. I have only repeated to you what he told us while she was painting this portrait. We heard the story often: but the account was always the same, even to the smallest details.
" I gladly accepted the invitation, and turned with renewed interest to look at the picture, which hung on the walls of the Whitchurch school-room, where a little exhibition was being held for the benefit of the church which needed a new roof. It was the portrait of a fisherman—a handsome, stronged-limbed fellow, with rough brown hair, and tawny beard, and keen blue eyes—standing on the sea-shore by his boat, which seemed to have been just drawn out of the water. It was ticketed " Isaac Hunter," and many people paused to look at it, making remarks which showed that his name was well known in the neighbourhood.On the following Friday, June 6th, I went down to Charmouth. Two miles before entering the place the pretty village was well in sight, as it stretched itself into white lines of comfortable cottages and cosy villas on either side of the road which climbs the steep hill leading to Axminster and Lyme Regis. Even at that distance people could be seen walking up the street, or gossiping on the pavement, looking like little black dolls against the white road and the white houses which peeped out from the sheltering foliage of laburnums, lilacs, and syringas. To the right there is a little valley dotted with grey farmsteads, and, beyond it one hill after another rises towards the northern horizon, their tops crowned with clumps of trees, which break the distant sky­line.
A glimpse of the sea is caught below Lyme Regis, but the nearer view of the bay is hidden by Golden Cap and the adjoining hills, which rise upwards in slopes of grassy down, but end seawards in jagged cliffs of blue lias and yellow clay, sometimes rising, as at Golden Cap, to the height of one thousand feet, and again sinking to a range of from twenty-five to thirty feet above the pebbly beach which lies at their base. At Charmouth the cliffs cease for a short distance, a belt of shingle and sand reaches up to the two lanes which approach the village, and the little river finds its wav through marshy beds of rush and yellow flag till it spreads over the shore in half a dozen bright little streams, making the long, narrow bridge of planks across the rush-beds a necessity for those who would reach the East Beach dryshod.
On Saturday morning, as soon as breakfast was over, F ----- said, " Now we will go and see Isaac Hunter; perhaps he will be at home, but if not we shall find him on the shore."
So we went up the steep, white street, past pretty gardens, and tiny, smooth-shaven lawns, and little greenhouses, bright with many hued flowers, and nearly at the top of the village we turned into a long, low, stone cottage on the left of the road, with a deep porch standing at the top of two or three steps, and a flagged passage running down the centre of the building and dividing the two houses, which snared the roof between them.
F ---------- turned into the doorway on the right, and a tall, gentle-mannered woman came forward from the bustle of a Saturday cleaning which was going on in the kitchen, conjointly with dressmaking: work for a lovely little girl about eight years old, who, attired in the skirt of a new garment and the body of an old one, came shyly up to F -------, and in answer to her inquiries, said that her sister in service had sent her a new frock, which was being tried on.
Mrs. Hunter told us that her husband was in the garden, and proposed sending for him; but we felt that we should be interfering with the house-work if we stayed in the kitchen, and so we said we would go to him.
" But I'm afraid you can't get into the garden, ma'am," objected Mrs. Hunter. " It's not our own; we rent it from next door, and we have to go up a ladder to get over the wall."
This sounded formidable, but on going to see we found the wall was not more than five feet high, and a very easy ladder made it no difficult task to reach the garden, which, owing to the steepness of the hill, stood on a much higher level than the cottage.
We went up, attended by five bright-eyed, curly-headed little children, and found Isaac, in a blue jersey and fishing-cap, earthing up potatoes at the far end of the enclosure.
After a little talk about the weather, the potatoes, and the mackerel—that topic of special interest to every fisherman on the South Coast during the months of May and June—I said:
" Will you tell me about the wreck, Mr. Hunter ? It is a very curious story, and I should like to hear about it from yourself."
" It is a very curious story, and I can't account for it noway; but it's true, for all that." replied Isaac, resting on his hoe as he began, while F ------ and I sat down among the potatoes, for the day was hot, though a fresh north wind was blowing.
The children grouped themselves by F ------ , and tried to make her play with them, for they were great friends, and I recognised in their curlv heads more than one of the studies which hung on the wall of her painting-room.
"We had all gone to bed as usual on the Saturday night, when I had a dream that troubled me ever so, " began Isaac "I thought I was out under Golden Cap and that all my Lobster pots had come ashore, and the waves were washing up round me, and I couldn't find a place to put them safe. I tried to put them first in one place and then another, but the sea came higher over the sand,for in my dream the shore was not covered with shingle, as it really is, but with sand—and the water got closer and closer, and I was in ever such a way lest the pots should be lost. After a bit I awoke; but the dream hung about me, and I could not be easy, it seemed as if I must get up and go to the shore. So 1 told the missus about it, and got her to light the candle. It was between one and two o'clock, and it seemed foolish to get up at that time, and, as the missus said it were nothing but a dream, we put out the light, and after a bit I fell asleep. But the dream came back to me. All the pots had been washed ashore, and I couldn't find a place to put them safe. Well. I awoke again, and for a little while I lay still, thinking it was all nonsense to be troubled about a dream, and trying to make mv mind easy; but it wasn't any use: do what I would I couldn't rest, and it seemed to come upon me stronger and stronger that I must get up and go down to the shore to see to those pots."
" Had you ever been uneasy about them before? " I asked. " No, ma'am ! It's often weeks together before we go to the pots in winter time; we put them out, and then, if the weather is bad, they stav till it gets fine." " How long had yours been out? "
"About three weeks: and I don't suppose I had given them a thought all that time. It had been rough weather for a good bit, and a gale blowing inshore for nigh a week, so there had been no chance of going off. But that night, do what I would, I couldn't rest. I seemed forced to get up, and it was no use trying to stay in bed: so I asked the missus to light the candle again, and my second boy—he's about ten years old—came with me, and we went along the Upper Sea Lane to the shore. As we went through the lane a feeling came over me as if I'd got a rope in my hand and were trying to heave it aboard a ship. It was a very queer sort of feeling, the same as if I was in a dream; but I didn't take any notice, and down on the shore we met one of the coast-guard men - Cripps, his name was.
" 'Hullo!' says he. 'What are you after?'
" So I told him, and he laughed, and said I had best go back to bed, for he had seen no pots, and it would be as much as I could do to get along to the eastward. So it was, for the waves were running in close up to the cliffs, and I kept tight hold of the little lad's hand, or he would have been off his feet more than once.
" We went on pretty near two miles, and as the tide was coming in, and a terrible strong sea on, for it was blowing a gale straight in-shore, it grew worse and worse, till we could hardly get round one of the points; we had to watch till the wash of the wave went back, and make a run; but it was getting dangerous when it came to that, and I says to the lad, ' We'll go home if we don't see anything round the next turn,' for the more I thought of it the more foolish it seemed to be out of bed at three o'clock on a Sunday morning, just because of a dream.
" But as we turned the point I saw something on the beach in front of us; a bit of cliff was between us and it, and in the dim light (for there was driving clouds over the sky, and a little bit of moonlight now and then, ancf things looked uncertain when you were not close to them), I thought that a piece of Golden Cap had tumbled down, or that the mists made the cliff look queer. I never thought what it was; but in a minute we were round, and there was a ship lying up on the beach, bow­sprit on, and her mast standing up against the sky !
" I rubbed my eyes then, and wasn't sure whether I was dreaming again or not, for to find a ship tossed up on the shingle like that gave me a turn; it was such an unlikely thing to happen along our coast, you see, for if there's ever so little wind ships give the bay a wide berth, knowing it to be dangerous. But there it was, and the little lad was terribly frightened of seeing the dead bodies washed in, for the waves swept over her in great sheets of water, and we made sure nothing living could be aboard. I told him not to mind, and kept hold of him while we ran as fist as we could across the shingle; and then, when we came as close to her as was possible, we saw something on the bowsprit. It was a man, and I shouted to him; but he did not take any heed for a bit, and I made sure he was dead: but I went on shouting, and after a time he hailed back, but it was some foreign words that I could not make out; and I don't suppose he could understand me, for I wanted to make it clear to him to hold on while I went for help, but I suppose it was about ten minutes before he took it in. But he threw up his arms at last, and I knew it was all right; so me and the little lad ran away and up the steps, for the ship lay a few yards to the westward of the station at Westhay. where there is a coastguard on duty by day, but he hasn't any night-work, and lives a little way inshore. I called him first —he was nearest, and then we ran on to Westhay Farm, Mr. Harris's."
" How far was that? " I asked. " Half a mile, and all up hill; but we weren't long going; we did run that night: and Mr. Harris was down in a minute when he knew what was the matter. He knocked up a couple of labourers living by the farm, and got some strong rope, and were back again by the ship as quick as we could. There was no time to lose, you see, for any of the great waves that came thundering in over the beach might wash the man away; or still more likely, break up the ship: and it seemed a race between us and the sea as to which should have him.
" The coast-guard was there before us, and by that time he had made out three men- the one on the bowsprit, another in the rigging, and a third hanging on the ladder by his hands and feet; but he never stirred.
" We tried to get the line aboard, and it was over the ship times and times, but the sea was beating over the poor fellows so heavily that not one of them could move; and if it didn't fall just where they could lay hold of it, it was swept back to us before they had the chance to make it fast. We all tried—the coast-guard, Mr. Harris, and me; we went right into the water and heaved the line again and again, but the sea and the dead wind were against us, arid at last the coast-guard says : ' This isn't a bit of good : we shall never do it without the rocket.'
" ' Then you had best be off to Sea Town and fetch it,' says Mr. Harris; and the man was off almost before the words were out of his mouth, running as hard as he could go.
" But it was over two miles to Sea Town, and terrible steep hills to climb, and I savs to Mr. Harris: 'If they aren't saved without the rocket, they'll never be saved with it, for she won't hold together till he gets back.
" We stood for a minute getting our breath, and looking at the poor ship: all of a quiver she was, as the great rollers fell over her with a crash and a roar, as if they wanted to swallow her up, and then we took Up the coil. I had one and he another, and the labourers held on to the shore end, and we went down again; and stuck to it we did, for we knew it was the only chance, and at last Mr. Harris threw his line almost into the hands of the man on the bowsprit, and he was able to make it fast." We thought the worst of the job was over then, for they hadn't far to come." ' How far?" I inquired. ' Why, when the wash of the waves was down, it wasn't farther between the beach and the ship than from here to that hedge." And he pointed to a fence about twenty-five yards away from us. " That is not a great distance."
' No, but it was too much for him : he started all right, and we looked to see him going along with his hands and feet caught over the rope ; but whether he was beat with cold, or whether he lost his head, I don't know, for he had hardly gone four feet when he loosed his hold and fell into one of the biggest waves that had come over us that night.
" We made sure he was gone then. I wouldn't have given a halfpenny to a thousand pounds for the chance of his life," continued Isaac, getting excited as he recalled that narrow escape. " We got him, though; for the next wave brought him in, and I ran to pick him up before the suck took him under : but I ran a bit top far, for the beach gave way under me just as I gripped him, and the water got hold of us both and washed us out to sea. It was a bad job for us then, and we were as near drowning as men could be; for we couldn't have been saved anyhow if the next roller hadn't caught us and brought us in on the beach again. We got out somehow, Mr. Harris helping us; and then we fell to and shook hands all round, for we felt as glad as could be. Mr. Harris had given up the sailor for lost, and me too, and, as he said, that would have been the worst job of all, with eight children and the missus all looking to me. Besides, when you've set your heart on bringing a poor chap in, it makes you feel ever so pleased to get him safe on shore.
He was a Frenchman, but he made us understand that the man in the rigging had sprung his knee, and the one in the ladder was the captain. We got the other man first, and he came along very steady, taking his time and holding on when the wash of the wave went over him, and as soon as he was near enough we ran down and took him off the rope and carried him up. He was French too, but could talk English, and said the captain wasn't dead ; so we set our minds to get him, for there was no time to lose. It don't take long to break up a ship when the sea is running as it was then, and she had been on the beach between three and four hours, for they were driven in about one o'clock, the men thought."
About the time your first dream made you want to come to the shore ?"
" Yes, very near the same time. I thought of it in a minute when the man spoke. It was curious, wasn't it?"
Very curious !"
" Well, ma'am," resumed Isaac, after a pause, " we had pretty near given up the captain, for he wouldn't stir, though we shouted to him, and his own men shouted to him, for I suppose it was half an hour. He hung there by his hands and feet, a thin, little, atomy of a chap, looking just like a skeleton. At last he did make a move and got to the rope, but I guessed he'd never come across, and he was down in the suck of the sea almost before he was clear of the vessel's side. It took him right under her; and there he was when I fetched him, though in another moment he would have been out of reach."
" Had you a rope ?"
" Yes ; I knew what I was going to do that time, and got an end ready in my hand; I couldn't have saved him without, for I went right into the sea and they hauled us out. It was stiffish work and dangerous, of course, but we didn't stop to think of that. When we got him in he looked as if he were dead; he was white and cold as a corpse, and we couldn't feel his heart beat or see a sign of life in him. There was no more on the ship; we had got them all then : so we wrapped a coat round him, and I picked him upland carried him over the cliff. . As we got to the top we could see the coast-guards come racing down the side of Golden Cap, one after the other, trying which could get to us first; but they would have been too late anyway, for just then a great sea came rolling in and covered the ship, which lay below at our feet, we saw the mast quiver and shake, and topple over, and when the wash went back it took the timbers with it, for the vessel was all to pieces, plank from plank, regularly beaten to bits by the weight of the waves."
" And the captain?"
" He came round after a bit, for Mr. Harris had run on in front, and was back again with a jug of hot tea, before I got him half way to the farm. It did them all good, that tea did, and when we came to the house Mrs. Harris had fires and hot blankets, and hot water, and everything she could think of to make them comfortable; and after a good rest none of them were much the worse."
"How had they been driven ashore?" I asked. " How had it come about ?"
" They had lost their rudder and had been drifting about in the bay all the Saturday afternoon ; but the weather being thick they had not been seen by the look-out at the station. When they struck, they had climbed up in the rigging, but seeing how close in shore they were, they tried to get on the bowsprit; but one having his knee hurt, could not get along, and the captain was dead beat and could not move; and the boy, the only other sailor aboard, was washed off as he was trying to get to the bow­sprit. I suppose, seeing that made the others afraid to try. He was drowned, the poor lad was ; his body came in a few days after, and his mates stopped with Mr. Harris till they had seen him buried."
" Did Mr. Harris take them all in ?" " Yes, he wouldn't hear of their going anywhere else. He said he had helped to save them and they should stay with him till they could go home.
" The Roman Catholic priest and the Squire came to see them, and it seemed funny to us as couldn't understand, to hear them talk, all together some­times, and so fast 1 You wondered how they could do it. And looked so pitiful they did ! Every one was kind to them, and they went home after a bit."
" What was the name of the ship?"
" Isaac told me, but I could not catch it.
" It means ' Messenger,' anyway; perhaps you will know the words from that. I wondered what was the meaning and looked it out in the Dictionary," he said.
" ' Courrier '—is that it?"
" Ah, that's it! I can't say it right, but that's what men called it."
"And what was the date? I forgot to ask you."
" The twenty-fourth of November, Sunday morning. It was about three o'clock when I saw the wreck first, and it was just after six when we got the men up to Mr. Harris's. I thing that's all: but it was very queer, that dream was. They'd have been drowned ; and no one known about it till the bodies came ashore, if I hadn't been sent down to the eastward that night."
" What do you mean by ' sent ' ? you went of your own accord," I said, anxious to draw him out.
" Well, yes, in a way," he replied, pushing back his cap and rubbing his head, " but I couldn't bide be at home, though it did seem nothing but foolishness to turn out of bed at that time in the morning and go to the eastward for a dream. But it was more than a dream, that was, though what it was I can't say. But I was sent to the shore to save those poor fellows, that's certain."
" Do you often go to that part of the shore? had you been there lately?" I asked, trying to see if any link of association with the particular spot would account for his dream.
No, I don't suppose I had been across the bridge for nearly a twelve month ; my boat lies on the other side, and I hadn't troubled about the pots nor nothing. There's no accounting for it, that I know of : I was sent, that's what I was."
And as we sat there among the potatoes listening to the story it seemed as if indeed he was right: and that this strong man, used to perils by sea, able to face an emergency and to do good service amid the waves, had been sent to the rescue of the Courrier's crew as she lay on the beach, being 1 pounded to" pieces beneath the mighty waves of a I south-west gale. After making arrangements with Hunter to row me up the coast on my homeward journey in the I afternoon, we went down to the beach, following the Upper Sea Lane by which he had gone on the night of the wreck.
" Did he tell the story as you have heard it
before?" I asked F ------ . " Yes," she replied; " it was just the same."
We sat down on the shingle, and while F------- made friends with a flock of children in serge frocks
and white linen hats, who were building castles on the sand, I put down the particulars of the story we had just heard, fearing that some of the details might escape my memory. The children were much interested in my proceedings, and listened attentively while I read over my notes to F -------- for correction.
In the afternoon, as Hunter rowed me to the eastward on the top of the tide, we passed the spot where the wreck took place.
" It was just there," he said, pointing to a little indentation in the line of blue lias cliff, which rose about thirty feet above a bank of shingle. A little wooden hut—the coast-guard's shelter in bad weather —stood just above, and a rought flight of steps led up from the shore.
The swell broke there with a heavy thud even on that calm afternoon, when there was scarcely a ripple on the sea; and as the rattle of the falling pebbles came across to us. I thought of the brave service which had been done there last November, when the waves were sweeping in with all their fury, and tearing down the beach before their resistless force. Suddenly Isaac took off his cap and waved it with t cheery hail to a man who had appeared on the cliff.
" Who is that ?" I asked, as the greeting was returned.
" That's Mr. Harris."
So there were the two heroes together, just at the scene of their gallant rescue.
As we went on our course Hunter told me of the handsome gold watches which the people of the neighbourhood had given to Mr. Harris and him­self in recognition of their services.
Did you have any medals from the Society?" I inquired.
" No, our clergyman and some of the gentlemen wrote about it, and a paper was sent down with questions to be filled in : but there was one asking if any witnesses were present, which they left blank, though the labourers who held the rope witnessed it all, and we suppose, owing to that mistake, we never had the medals. But, we don't take no account of that, for we did not do it for that, though I dare say our missuses would like us to have them."
That is the story of Isaac Hunter's dream and its results. I do not pretend to account for or explain it, and I have simply related the facts almost in his own words. In these davs, when there seems to be a growing disbelief in all those wonders and signs which cannot be explained by the laws of nature.
This is an article that appeared in the " Chatterbox" in 1874.