Aleck Hormby

Chapter I

On the northern coast of Maine, in the year of 1861, there stood a small village named Darnley. It was situated on the top of tall cliffs, against which the waves of the ocean, when the tide was at its full, dashed with their greatest force.

The inhabitants of the village gained their living chiefly by fishing and renting their rooms during the season to summer boarders.

It was only a small place, the log cabins of most of the inhabitants being built after the style of the old Puritans, with here and there a brick mansion belonging to some wealthier inhabitant. But in some cases the fishermen lived in dwellings made from old vessels which had from time to time been wrecked upon the shore, and then afterwards dragged with considerable labor to the top of the cliffs, where they had then been inverted and covered with shingles to protect them from the storms of winter.

The houses were built on the cresfent of the

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small bay, without any regard to regularity, and in such position as were thought most favorable. A steep road had been cut down the cliffs to the sea-shore, by which the inhabitants and visitors ascended or descended to the beach.

Spread out upon the beach are the numerous nets of the fishermen, drying in the sun ; with their corks and sinkers attached, being held down by large stones.

Around are lying pieces of timber that have been washed into the bay ; while parts of old casks, boxes, and fragments of vessels show the loss of some ill-fated ship that has been driven on this perilous shore.

Most of the houses had gardens attached to them, in which the owners produced their yearly stock of vegetables; while in front of many of them were flower-beds, which showed the taste and good management bestowed upon them by their proprietors.

Down on the beach were some few rowing and sailing boats, which were rented out by the day or hour to visitors ; also about a dozen or so bathing machines, while close up to the cliffs were numerous boys and men who made a living by charging so much per hour for the use of the donkeys or ponies they owned.

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Frequently during the summer months you might see large numbers of the city youths, of both sexes, enjoying themselves, laughing, screaming and shouting, on the backs of these patient but stubborn beasts; while sometimes seated on the same animals you might observe some of the older ones who preferred riding to walking to the top of the cliffs from the beach.

In one of the prettiest of these cottages at the time we are writing of there resided a man by the name of Ned Hormby and his young wife Annie. She was the daughter of a prosperous grocer in the neighborhood, and had been married a little over a year to Ned, whose genial ways and manly figure had gained her affections.

Annie Hormby was a little over twenty-three years of age; she had a fine figure, which was as straight as a dart, dark complexion, brown eyes and massy tresses of rich, black hair. A little over six weeks before she had become a mother, but the little one had been frail, living only a few days.

Up to this time her life had been a joyous one; she had a husband whom she loved dearly, then an infant boy had been given her, a perfect picture of his father; but now he had been taken away from them and she left a mourner.

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Ned Hormby was about thirty years of age, handsome, tall and powerfully built, and the owner of a smart fishing boat, the Mermaid, which now rode at anchor in Darnley Bay.

This vessel was the pride of Ned Hormby’s life, and held the next place in his esteem to his wife; there was not a swifter craft on the coast of Maine than the Mermaid, nor a sweeter or handsomer wife than Annie Hormby.

There were several other boats putting out from Darnley, whose owners gained a large part of their livelihood by fishing; but the Mermaid was the largest and best equipped boat in the fleet, as also were his quarters for curing and smoking the fish on shore.

The boats used to leave Darnley quite early in the morning, going anywhere from five to twentyfive miles from the shore.

The average catch per boat was from five to eight hundred pounds per day; the amount varying of course with the fisherman's proverbial luck. The men planted their nets wherever the fish could be caught, moving them from time to time, as they thought best, from one course to another. These nets extended between three and four miles when in the water, and were allowed to remain set about three or four days.

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They were then lifted, the fish taken out and then conveyed to shore, .dried and mended. After this they were wound upon large reels, which were common sights around the village of Darnley.

When the fish were brought home they were either sold to peddlers or smoked, the cured ones being shipped to the surrounding towns; Ned Hormby consigning some of his goods as far distant as Boston, New York and Philadelphia.

Ned Hormby also employed quite a number of persons during the busy part of the fishing season in curing and packing the fish and mending the nets.

After the death of their little one Ned had done the best he could to console Annie, but she had refused to be comforted, deeply grieving the loss of her baby boy.

It was the month of July, the day had been hot and oppressive, and the night was very sultry.

The sun had set, the sea was calm, while an unnatural stillness hung around the bay.

As the night advanced and the darkness deepened a light shone from the windows of the cottage of Ned Hormby.

The cottage was a picture of neatness, consisting of two bedrooms, a sitting and dining room, kitchen and shed. The rooms in the house were

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well furnished for people of their class, with nice pictures hanging on the walls, while geraniums and other plants in vases decorated the windows.

The shed was filled with the articles used by Ned in plying his vocation with old father Neptune. Oars and boat hooks, fishing nets, corks and sinkers, were spread out or thrown around in great confusion.

In a chair at one of the windows facing the ocean, on this sultry night, sat Annie Hormby, crying and sobbing as if her heart would break, as she thought of her lost one ; while with his arms around her, trying to comfort her, at her feet knelt her husband. This endeavor instead of relieving her troubled condition, only brought forth a fresh torrent of tears, as she buried her face upon the shoulders of her husband, who wiped the tears from her eyes and tenderly kissed her.

Suddenly the sound of the fog-horn breaks in upon them, then, hand in hand, they walk out into the garden to view the night.

This front garden of Ned Hormby’s was one of the best places in Darnley for viewing the ocean from.

The night was as black as pitch, with a thick fog coming in from the water.

Scarcely had the two left the house when a

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violent wind storm arose, blowing out the lamp in the house, and at the same instant a vivid flash of lightning burst through the foggy darkness, a low rumbling of thunder followed, while another rush of wind swept along the cliffs straight from the sea.

Then all was quiet for a short time, until Ned was startled by observing a rocket go up, far out at sea. He knew at once that some unfortunate vessel had missed her course in the fog, and was being driven by the strong current upon their remorseless cliffs.

There was not much time for thought, for soon there came a terrific tempest, with terrible flashes of lightning, and thunder like heavy artillery, which, combined with the roar of the wind and the angry downpour of rain, forced them to seek shelter in the house. Soon the rain passed over, and Ned and Annie Hormby once more went out into the night.

Again they perceived rockets going up from the doomed vessel, and Annie asked: “Can we do anything to save her, Ned? Shall we light a fire upon the cliffs to warn them of their danger?”

“You come with me into the house,” replied Ned, holding her firmly by the waist, “for I am afraid the wind will carry you over the cliffs.”

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Entering, Ned hastily selected an empty barrel, packed it full of shavings, and ran with it to the verge of the precipice, while Annie stood at the door with some staves of dry wood to renew the blaze. In a short time the tempest blew the flames to a great height, illuminating all around.

“They , ll see that,” said Ned.

He had scarcely uttered the words when another rocket went up. At the same time the fog passed away, and the moon shone forth revealing the ship.

One of her masts had broken off and lay over the side of the vessel knotted in a mass of sails and ropes, while the men on board could be distinctly seen at work with axes trying to cut it away. Then there arose a great cry on board, which could be heard above the roar of the wind and water as a tremendous wave broke over the wreck carrying away men, the mast, casks and boats into the raging surf.

The ship was now a mere toy for the waves. Great breakers rolled over her, threatening to engulf them, but she always rose in time to prepare for the following wave.

As the day began to break the storm increased in its violence, and Ned, seeing that they could

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II render no further assistance, persuaded Annie to try to get some rest.

But there was a dark gloom in the solitary chamber, sleep refused to come to either of them, and before long they were up once more and making their way down to the beach. Numbers of people were already up, as the news spread, all running in one direction facing the wild sea.

It was now about four o’clock in the morning, the storm was still raging fiercely, the ship was about half a mile from the shore and dragging her anchors. The second mast was still upright, with the torn sails and broken ropes cracking like whips as the wind beat them to and fro.

Then one of her anchors parted, leaving the ship dependent on a single cable in a storm that made her position hopeless.

As the daylight increased the men on shore, with the aid of their glasses, made her out to be a large emigrant ship of English build, probably destined for New York or Boston.

She was well manned, and had her captain been aware of the small harbor he would have had little trouble in beaching his vessel. But there were no means of communicating with the vessel, and soon the other mast went overboard.

Then groups of women and children were dis-

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cernible on board, clinging to each other, while every angry wave swept some from the deck into the seething abyss of waters.

The men on shore ran about, helpless to aid them; while the women clasped their hands and prayed, or, shrieking, turned their faces away, crying for help where no help could come.

Quickly the other cable parted, leaving her utterly helpless.

Now the vessel, which had up to this time been riding with her stern to the shore, slowly veers around, then leaping over the waves, her head turning slowly, she sinks into the trough of the sea with her side to the full face of the wind. A towering wave now swept her decks, which were crowded with people ; but in a few seconds nearly all had disappeared; only a few of the strongest being able to hold on to whatever they had been able to grasp. Again another wave struck her, and again she righted, but there were still fewer persons on her deck; she now drifted helplessly on, her rudder broke, nearly turning her over, and again she disappeared from view.

Then some one cried: “They're lowering a boat," which was soon filled with women and children ; it had scarcely left the side of the vessel ere it was swamped.

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Meanwhile the once proud ship rolls heavily on towards the northern rocks; sometimes high on the waves, then nearly covered by the sea. At last a wave caught her with resistless power and dashed her high up on the rocks, which gored her sides with their rugged, sharp and piercing edges.

“Those rocks will soon finish her,” said Ned to Annie Hormby.

He had been watching, glass in hand, and giving details to his wife of all that happened to the unfortunate vessel. “I think, Annie, you had better go home and try to get some rest, for she'll soon go to pieces, and there is not one person alive on her now.”

Annie, however, could not move; she was rooted to the spot.

For a short time the vessel held together, then she began to break up; first the entire deck was broken off by an angry wave which broke full upon her; then another lifted her once more, crashing her with immense force higher on the rocks, where soon she began to crumble to pieces.

Now the boiling surf is enriched with her cargo, and the fishermen and natives are busy rescuing bales, barrels and merchandise of every description, each making their own pile and keeping it

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distinct, so that they will be able to claim their share of salvage.

Not yet had one single living person been washed ashore, but scores of dead ones were continually coming in, all of whom were carried beyond the reach of the angry waves and covered with sails or tarpaulin.

The minister of the village, with his wife and her sister, were busy taking a description of each one and making an inventory of everything found on their persons, to enable them to prove their identity if needed. The clothing worn, color of the hair, marks upon their linen, anything that might lead to subsequent identification.

Then horses and a wagon having been secured, they were slowly and carefully carried up the toilsome road and deposited in the little church, which was turned into a temporary morgue, while the communion table was used for depositing the articles on taken from each person.

Small cards were placed on each lot and marked, taken from number one, and so on. Many of the corpses were almost nude, showing that the unfortunate ones had been rudely awakened from their sleep, and had rushed on deck trying to escape, only to meet their death outside in place of in.

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Not one in fifty were ever claimed; of the steerage passengers not a single one, and very few of the others.

Then came the work of burying the dead; neat coffins were made for the reception of the bodies, the persons being placed in them in their clothing; four were deposited in each grave, with the number corresponding to the description taken of each one marked on a small wooden cross, which was placed on their graves.

Chapter II

During the excitement on the beach, when the bodies and cargo began to be washed ashore, everyone was busy; Ned Hormby and his wife amongst the rest.

Soon Annie cried out, “Oh, Ned, what is that over there ?” Then there was a general rush forward on the part of the men to secure the prize.

The force of the waves, however, was so great that they were beaten down by them and dragged into the surf by the undercurrent; only regaining the shore by the assistance of the crowd, who, with a line, helped them to reach places of safety.

Only one man had been able to force his way through the monstrous waves and reach the floating object; this was Ned Hormby, who had a rope, which he fastened securely to the object and then turned to the shore, with the other end held firmly in his grasp. Annie’s heart heaved with emotion as she beheld the strong form of her husband successfully contending with the surf, which had driven back the others.

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She was the first to rush into the water and help her husband to gain a footing on the treacherous beach.

Willing hands were put out to haul on the rope, which was quickly drawn in, and then the men rushed into the water and dragged the prize on shore. Lashed to a spar by a strong rope, with her long fair hair floating on the water all covered with seaweed, they beheld the dead body of a young woman.

She had evidently been asleep when the crash came, for she was in her night clothing, while upon her breast wrapped in a shawl, held firmly in the grip of death, lay the body of an infant, probably two months old.

There was nothing upon them to indicate who they were, save a small locket attached to the neck of the child, with the initials A. Me. L. engraved thereon.

Ned hastily cut the ropes and carried the body to the place where the dead bodies were being deposited; while the village teacher lifted up the child.

“Is the baby dead?” asked Annie, as she drew nearer to the men.

“I am afraid it is,” replied the teacher, as he i8 handed the little one into the arms of the eager Annie. She took away the wet shawl and wraps, covered it with her own, and pressed it to her breast, while her hands were soon briskly rubbing it all over.

The boy was chilled through, but soon showed signs of returning animation. In a short time he commenced to cry, and before long, to Annie’s great joy, began to smile upon her. She hurried off home with her precious burden, dressed it in some of the clothing belonging to her own child, and pressing it to her breast felt a mother’s happiness; her own boy had been replaced by this little stranger, washed in from the wreck, a castaway.

The vessel had now completely broken up, and for several days the natives of Darnley, visitors and others, were busy rescuing the portions of her cargo that were washed ashore ; but of all the vast concourse of people that had a few days before crowded her decks, not one was saved alive save this baby boy.

When the excitement from the wreck was over, and the bodies were all decently buried, the minister paid a visit to the home of Ned and Annie Hormby.

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He took a description of the baby and locket and advertised them in most of the principal newspapers, but never received any reply or inquiry about the boy, who from thence on was cared for by the Hormbys.

Thus the time passed on; no other child was sent to or wished for by Ned and his wife, their best attention and love being bestowed on the little stranger.

When young Aleck Hormby grew old enough he was sent to school, where great attention was paid to him by the school teacher, who considered himself a kind of second father to the boy.

Aleck also accompanied his father on many of his fishing trips during the summer season. This night as the sun is sinking Annie sits by the cottage door knitting, and watching for the return of her husband and boy. It is just seven years ago to-night since the wreck, and Ned has had the boy with him this day.

The darkness deepened; and as Annie gazed wistfully out on the bay she wonders what is keeping them out so late; “Surely nothing can have happened to them,” says she. Then going inside the cottage she lighted a lamp and placed it in the window; the same window where, seven years

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before, the bright light had shone through, and said “They will see that light far away.” Still the time passes slowly on; there was no sound save the murmur of the wind and the breaking of the waves upon the shore. Then the wooden clock, one of the old-fashioned ones with long pendulum, chains and weights, that hung from the wall, struck nine.

Wherever can they be?

The wind was now blowing furiously as she rose from her chair and once more nervously looked out from the door. It was very dark outside, not an object to be seen, so Annie returned into the house, went on her knees and offered a fervent prayer for the protection from the Most High for those she so dearly loved.

The clock struck once more — ten; and again Annie tried to pierce the darkness, but all to no purpose; then she heard the grating of a boat as it struck the pebbly beach, and wondered if it was the Mermaid.

Had the boat arrived? Were her darling ones safe? were questions she kept asking herself as she paced to and fro in the garden.

The boat she had heard striking the beach was the Mermaid; soon the sound of hurried footsteps

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were heard outside, then little Aleck, a handsome young sailor boy, rushed in, and was soon tenderly embraced in the arms of Annie Hormby.

Now Ned follows, and Aleck makes room for the father.

Quickly a clean cloth is spread upon the table, while upon it is placed a large piece of cold ham, a loaf of bread, and cups of warm coffee.

“What detained you so long to-night?” asked Annie.

“We had good luck to-day,” replied Ned, “were quite busy, and could not possibly get home earlier.”

Now Annie fondly^ drew the boy to her, and placing him upon her knee, pressed him to her breast; then parting his curly hair she warmly kissed him. Before long she began to take off his clothing, saying, “You are tired I know to-night, my boy, and you ought to have been in your little bed long ago.”

“Oh, no, I am not tired,” replied Aleck, hugging his mother, who looked down upon him with pride.

We will take a look at and give our readers a brief description of young Aleck previous to his being put to bed. He is just over seven years old,

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but looks at least nine. He is tall for his age, gracefully and well built, with handsome features, large, light blue eyes, and bright, curly hair.

Too soon young Aleck Hormby’s summer vacation came to an end. He has had a glorious two months, partly spent with his father, which has been a life of adventure to him; up and down the coast on the Mermaid, helping the fishermen with his little brown hands, the pride and pet of all the men on board. At other times he would wade on the seashore with his companions, setting lines for fish, or with a net catching shrimps, crabs or lobsters, with which the coast was well supplied.

Then again he would get among the boys with their donkeys on the beach, often trying to steal a ride on these watchful animals, who seemed to know in an instant when they were giving a ride gratuitously, and used their utmost endeavor to throw off the pilferers into the sand, which amused the boys greatly.

Until Aleck was six years old Annie had kept him at home, instructing him herself in the arts of reading and writing, but he had now completed his first year in school. No mother could possibly have done more for her child than did Annie Hormby for little Aleck ; and she was well repaid for her work by the affection she received in return.

Now comes the morning for the opening of school once more, and Aleck, having received a warm embrace from his mother, throws the straps to his books across his little shoulder and is off.

The village of Darnley was blessed above other things with having a good school. The building stood apart by itself, and was surrounded by a large playground for the use of the children. The teacher, Mr. Bentley, was a good and conscientious man, with a young family of his own.

Aleck was somewhat afraid of school at first, but the teacher soon made his pupils feel at home by treating them with the most considerate kindness. Had they been his own children his treatment of them could not have been marked with more affection. His chief anxiety was to impart to them a knowledge of the right course to pursue, with a full appreciation of it. His censure was not often used and was embodied in his praise of others, his chief punishment consisting in withholding reward.

Poor little Aleck was rather unhappy on being first sent to school, and often ran off to a quiet corner of the playground, where he burst into tears. But one day two of the other boys caught

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him crying; they immediately began to taunt him with being a mamma’s darling, asking him at the same time, “if he was crying for his mammy?” This Aleck could not stand; he turned on his nearest tormentor and struck him on the nose, which sent that young worthy howling to his mamma with a bloody nose, at the same time stopping Aleck’s tears on the school subject.

Frequently Mr. Bentley would give his pupils a half-day holiday, starting off with them for the neighboring woods, hunting for birds’ nests, wasps’ nests and butterflies. Some of the older ones would often stay with the teacher, but they generally scattered in all directions until it was time for them to return.

Then came the winter, when he would teach the boys to slide and skate, help them to make giant snow men, and frequently give them sleigh rides; loving his pupils, setting them all a good example, and being beloved in return.

So Aleck’s school days passed away, his mother often giving him good advice; to be diligent in his studies, too proud to tell an untruth, or do a mean action ; never to provoke a quarrel, nor allow himself to be bullied, and to be strictly honest in all his dealings.

Thus the time rolls on, until Aleck is fourteen years of age, when he has accomplished all that it is possible for him to learn in the village school, Teacher Bentley declaring that he is the smartest and best boy in the school. He is gentlemanly in his manners, one of the best ball players, and the fleetest runner in school, although some of the boys are several years his senior; he is kind and attentive to all the gentler sex, therefore it is not to be wondered at that he is a general favorite.

Chapter III

In this village of Darnley there resided at the time we are writing of a lawyer, whose name was Richard Small.

Lawyer Small's family consisted of himself, his wife, and a son and daughter.

He was considered to be pretty well supplied with this world's goods by his neighbors; his office and practice was in the neighboring town of Southport, to which place he traveled every morning by rail, returning home at night. He picked up an occasional case in Darnley, but these cases were few and far between. He resided in Darnley chiefly on his wife's account, who loved to be near the ocean.

Young Harry Small and his sister Nellie attended the village school the same as the rest of the children in the village. Harry was about one year older than Aleck Hormby, while Nellie was about the same age.

The two boys were firm friends, striving to excel each other in school and in their games outside;

this had always been done, however, in a friendly spirit; no jealousy ever existed between them.

The school days of the two boys being over in the village school, they have once more their longlooked-for two months’ vacation, which is spent in much the same manner as we have before described.

Nellie Small was passionately fond of drawing; she might be frequently seen during summer in the fields, on the cliffs, or on the beach, sketch book in hand, taking drawings from nature.

On these journeyings she was generally accompanied by a large black Newfoundland dog, a favorite of her’s, named Rover.

One day during this vacation Nellie proceeded down to the beach with her sketch book, where, having taken her favorite seat on the top of a bowlder close to the cliff, she fell to work sketching. So intent was she on her work that she forgot all about the tide, which had turned, and was slowly surrounding her.

Closer and closer the waves girdled about her, until, when Nellie looked up, she was surrounded by water, with the tide still rising.

One cry of intense agony burst from her lips.

She saw the waves playing around the bowlder

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at her feet, while behind and in front of her the path was closed.

“Help! Help!” she cried, as she cowered with fear; but no human voice could reach the top of those cliffs above the noise made by the waves.

The reader has no doubt heard a storm sinking into a momentary lull. A sudden cessation of noise we cannot account for. A time, for instance, when a noise has suddenly become hushed and you could hear a pin drop.