The Cellardyke Echo – 12/11/2020

Just one article this week the second part of the Andrew Strang story as everyone seemed to enjoy part one. It seems to end very abruptly with no indication that there may be a part three – further investigation is required.

1859

THE ANST’ER LAUNCH. BY J. B CELLARDYKE (Continued.)

As a matter of course, the child grew up in the possession of all those astonishing faculties and endowments, both mental and physical, that seem specially to belong to such peculiar favourites of fortune, and which so remarkable a preservation would indicate as designed for him, at least such was often the expressed opinion of old Mrs Reid; and, to tell the truth, the most dotting or ambitious parent could not desire a larger degree of beauty and intelligence in childhood; a more ample development or richer promise  in early youth than he exhibited. Still, for much of this he was the indebted to the solicitude and judicious training of his foster parents, aiding and encouraging his natural aptitude, with which he was blessed in no ordinary degree.

In one particular, however, young Strang sorely disappointed the hopes and expectations of his foster father, and that was his predilection for the sea as a profession.

Reid had strong suspicions that the child of some elevated personage was providentially committed to his, care, and having the means he earnestly wished to have him qualified by educational cultivation and refinement, to acquit himself with credit and comfort in the new sphere, when his suspicions should be verified; but instead of a classical education, he was obliged to content himself with securing for him a thorough knowledge of all the branches essential to marine architecture, to which was added nautical mathematics, as taught by Mr Moncrieff, Cellardyke, a distinguished teacher of the period, in preparation for entering upon an apprenticeship to the shipbuilding, as a compromise of their difference on that point to which he had consented.

At this time, the now almost deserted beach of Anstruther Harbour was the scene of extraordinary bustle and activity, the whole available space was occupied with the accessories to an extensive shipbuilding, all along the front street, including the folly, was filled with piles of wood, in logs, deals, oak timber, &c steaming houses, saw pits, store houses and workshops. A number of vessels of various tonnage, and in different states of progress were rapidly advancing to completion, under the industry of some hundreds of workmen, guided by the well-known skill of Bailie Paton, and practical energy of his foreman George Bruce.

Here Andrew Strang gladly started as an apprentice, and was earning golden opinions from the indomitable George Bruce for activity, intelligence and exemplary conduct. The consequence was, that by the time he had reached the middle of his fourth year of his service being then a young man of about twenty summers – tall, powerful and energetic, his eye sparkling with manly vigour, and decision depicted upon every feature, while by his obliging disposition, and his acknowledged superiority, he had acquired an influence unquestioned and universal, though tacitly accorded, inferior only to the foreman himself.

Among the number of less notable vessels on the stocks at Paton’s building-yard, was one ordered by the government for a war gunboat, somewhat of the description of our modern ships of that name. It was one of the class that was being urged forward with all the speed in many of the building-yards of Britain, intended to counteract the projected Flotilla of Bonaparte, that created so much alarm on this side of the channel. While this whip of war was progressing, she excited the admiration of all seafaring men for beauty of design, combined with the strength of architectural conformation that was concentrated upon her construction, and people knew not whom most to extol, Bailie Paton the contractor, or Captain Henderson, who was appointed by the Admiralty to superintend the work.

Multitudes had come from all quarters to see and admire her during the few months she was on the stocks, and when it was announced that she was to be full rigged out before being launched into her native element, the desire to witness the novel spectacle became universal.

When the day of the launch at length arrived, thousands crowded to the shore of Anstruther. To prevent accident or confusion, the entire work was railed in, and a select party of the Fife local volunteers stationed within the enclosure, while the remainder of that military body belonging to the district was drawn up in double file along the front street, from the town hall eastward to the Forth. Their Commander, Colonel Anstruther, took his station on the end of the west pier facing them, who by a signal from him, were instructed to fire off a simultaneous volley, as an intimation to the congregated multitudes, the moment that the ship was set free from her fastenings, to move into her watery sphere; and farther, the Cellardyke fishermen, long trained to the use of a defensive weapon for guarding the coast, denominated ‘Pikes,’  and they from that description of weapon denominated ‘Pikemen’ were ranged in regular order from the Forth, where the volunteers terminated, to the end of the east pier, and with Lieutenant Cameron at their head, and were at the same instant to ground their pikes decorated with flags, bearing numberless loyal devices. The usual ‘Launch Bell’ was arranged in a style never before known in Anstruther. Female beauty and expectation were at their pitch, and not a few aristocratic beaus and belles had sought and obtained tickets of admission to the festivity. Clusters of people crowded upon every available space where a view could by any possibility be obtained, so that by three o’clock P.M, windows, roofs of houses, vessels rigging, amidst flags and decorations, boats and parapet walls were all densely crowded with expectant multitudes in feverish impatience to behold the grand spectacle. And there in the midst stood the noble vessel, arrayed from deck to top gallant mast in a gorgeous display of indescribable colours of all imaginable designs, with the British Ensign and Union Jack floating triumphantly awaiting the irrevocable ceremony that was to consummate her earthly-happiness.

In calm self reliance Captain Clifton, her future commander, paced the quarter deck, looking dreamily over upon the excited multitudes. Near him stood his only daughter, Miss Maria Clifton, upon whom he had doated with undisguised tenderness. She, beautiful, impulsive, delicate as an ethereal inhabitant of purer spheres, was ready, with a bottle wine in hand, amidst a group of ladies to break it upon the vessel, and pronounce her name upon the first motion of her departure. Nor were they unattended by the gallantry of the more stubborn sex. The deck forward was crowded with a motley assemblage of all ages, intent to enjoy the sensation of her gliding into the water.

At last the stentorian voice of George Bruce was heard like a trumpet issuing his preparatory commands, and in an instant fifty mallets were hammering in the wedges that were to raise the vessel off the props that had supported her during her erection. The arrangements for her safety in the water were committed to Andrew Strang, who, in anticipation of her to weight being the cause of some disaster, had quietly conveyed a rope from the past head down to the side and thence to the pier, and had a person standing by to let go immediately when the ship was in motion, while he himself occupied a small boat with a few expert hands, to be in readiness in event of any casualty.

Meanwhile the ship was lifted from the props, and resting entirely on the ways. The man with mallet in hand was stationed at the stopper, which held her in her place, ready to knock it away upon the word of command, and the mimic army of volunteers were standing in martial array, waiting for the word ‘Fire’ to empty their pieces as one man at the same instant.

All was now ready, and Bruce gave the preconcerted signal, when the Colonel, with a voice that might be heard a mile distant, deliberately called out ‘shoulder arms’, ‘make ready,’ ‘present,’

At which word a nervous wright in the ranks drew the trigger, and pap, pap, pap, one after another went off almost every musket in the detachment. The Colonel held up his hands in shame and amazement, which only caused the muskets to go off more separately and deliberate, until the sound gradually melted away into silence, while a sympathising comrade whispered in the stricken delinquent’s ear ‘never mind my lad, better an empty house than a bad tenant.’

At the same time, the man at the stopper knocked away that obstruction, and the noble ship glided majestically down into her native home, but unfortunately just as she floated off the ways, the unacquainted passengers made a simultaneous rush to the side next to the shore, to witness the commotions produced by the awkward precipitancy of the nervous volunteer, which caused the ship to lurch over on her broad side with the yards plunged into the water throwing the whole people on board down to the side of the bulwarks over head and ears into the sea. In an instant there was a rush of men on the west pier, with the line from her mast, which promptly taking advantage of her upward recoil, righted her at once, and she was again sitting gracefully in the water.

The sudden shock, however, had thrown a number of persons over the bulwarks into the sea, who, but for the forethought and presence of Andrew Strang, would assuredly have perished; he was at the post of danger, as if anticipating the occurrence, and being speedily joined by others, they succeeded in rescuing the whole without loss of life.

Those on the quarter deck, from their elevated position, were thrown farthest out, and a few were for a time in great jeopardy. Captain Clifton, with the grasp of a sailor, seized the backstays with one hand and the nearest lady in the other, and immediately that the ship righted, missing his own daughter, he leapt into the water in quest of her, but was interrupted in his search, by his humanity to others struggling round him. In the meantime, Miss Clifton, from the buoyancy of her dress, had floated away out towards the mouth of the harbour, and after a few spasmodic struggles sank in despair. Strang saw her danger, and pulled after her with desperate energy. Before he reached the spot, she again rose to the surface, and sank a second time. Arriving at the place, Strang, in an instant leapt into the water, and diving down to seek her was seized convulsively by the arms before he was aware.