Darling, she found that her husband was an intelligent man, fond of books, and having a thoughtful and cultivated mind. Moreover, he was a Christian, and proved, by his life and conversation, that the old truths that had been brought by Paulinus into Northumbria, had entered info his heart. The young wife, though she might have left a happy home near that wonderful old fortress at Bamborough, had chosen a good man to love her in her new home, and had no cause to be afraid of the future.
Still, it must have been a joy to them when children came to play about the lonely house, and mingle their merry laughter with the sad sighing sounds of the uncomplaining sea.
We may be sure that it did not enter into the mind of either of the young couple to suppose, that a child of theirs would ever become so celebrated that she would be talked of in all parts of the civilised world; and that all cla.s.ses of people would unite to do her honour. It is well that they did not know it. There is a mystery about the future of every child that is one of its greatest safe-guards. Those to whom the care of training it for its coming life is committed, must exercise faith in G.o.d and do their best, leaving results with him. This is what the parents of Grace Darling did. And the sequel proves that though they might not have been persons of wealth and culture, they had that invaluable wisdom which enables parents rightly to train those committed to their care.
It was in the year 1816 that our heroine was born. She was called Grace Horsley Darling, the second name to perpetuate the maiden name of her mother. It is said that William Darling was particularly rejoiced when his little daughter came. Unlike many men, whose hearts are in their business, and who are so entirely occupied by it that they have neither time nor thought for their families, he had plenty of leisure, which he delighted to employ for those whom he loved. When he was not engaged in cleaning the lamps, or keeping them burning "from sunset to sunrise," which is the first duty of a lighthouse-man, he liked to have his children about him, that he might teach them all that he knew. And when little Grace was added to the number, she, unconscious though she was of it, found warm hearts and strong arms waiting her, and was received with loving welcome.
Already that home among the rocks held st.u.r.dy brothers and sisters, who were glad to make room for the little stranger, and who were quite prepared to teach her the first lessons that she would have to learn.
These romping boys and girls, if they were less highly favoured in some respects than other children, had at least some advantages over the dwellers in towns. They had the rocks for a play-ground, and sh.e.l.ls and sea-weed for toys. They played games with the wind, which tossed their hair about, and brought the colour to their faces. They braved the sun, not caring that he took the delicacy from their skins and bronzed them over. And as they leaped about among the rocks, and over the weeds, their loud and merry laughter, mingled with the roar of the sea, made the sweetest harmony of which the island could boast.
So, at least, thought two gentlemen who visited Longstone Rock, the home of the Darlings, on the day after the birth of Grace. They came in their little yacht to the island, having cruised about for health and recreation, and landed on the Longstone, in order to explore it and others of the Farne group. The children were having holiday, too, just then, and as they scampered about, they attracted the attention of the visitors.
"Whose children are you?"
"We are the lighthouse children; we belong to Mr. Darling. He lives in the house yonder."
"You are shouting l.u.s.tily enough for twice the number. Where is your father?"
"We will fetch him."
The gentlemen looked in admiration at the rosy faces, bright eyes, and strong limbs of the children; and when the father came out, they expressed their pleasure.
"We do not often see such children, Darling. It shows that the life among the rocks suits them. How old are they?"
William Darling was not loth to tell the gentlemen anything they wanted to know of his children, for, with a father"s pride, he naturally thought none were like his.
"Would you like to hear them read?" he asked.
"Yes, very much."
The children were quite willing to show off their attainments. They were not frightened. Surely rock children ought to be noted for their fearlessness; and if they are not afraid of howling tempests, such as cause their lighthouse-home to rock, they should not be timid before a couple of gentlemen, even though one should be a Marquis.
They acquitted themselves so well that they received great praise.
"They have evidently been well taught, Mr. Darling; and yet there are no schools on the island, to which you could send them. Who has been their teacher?
"I am the teacher of my own children," said the lighthouse-man, a little proudly.
"We teach them at home, I and my wife."
"You must be very good teachers, and I am glad that your scholars do you so much credit. Really, that boy of yours is a fine fellow."
Thus encouraged, it is no wonder that Darling told them what had happened in the night.
"I have a little girl a few hours old, would you like to see her?
"Yes, very much indeed, if it is not yet too early for the young lady to begin receiving visitors."
"Oh no; if you will kindly come into the house, I will bring her to you." The little bundle, so wonderfully perfect (as babies are), wrapt closely in soft warm flannel, and looking an interesting, though a very comical specimen of humanity, was then brought forward, and shown to the admiring gaze of the gentlemen, who were profuse in their praises.
Men are almost always afraid to handle newly-born babies; they seem to think they are among those articles that easily break, and are labelled, "Gla.s.s, with care." But no sight is more beautiful than that of a strong rough man touching the little things with the greatest tenderness.
William Darling"s pride in his newly-born daughter was very evident, and when she had been safely taken back and laid in her mother"s arms, and the party went out to examine the island, and learn something of its history and natural productions, they liked their intelligent guide none the less because they had seen that he was a kind and affectionate father.
Indeed, William Darling was known as a steady, intelligent, trustworthy man. The post of the Longstone lighthouse-keeper was a very dangerous one; and only such men as had proved their integrity, powers of endurance, and fidelity to duty, were ever appointed to that position.
But he had given evidence that he was a man to be relied upon, who would not shirk work, but faithfully perform it, and who might be counted upon to be always at his post, whether others were likely to know it or not. He was just such a man as we want Englishmen of to-day to be--steadfast, patient, always alike in their performance of work, always most careful, thorough, and conscientious. He had already pa.s.sed a time of probation, at a less important place, and then, because he had shown himself diligent, honest, and true in it, he was raised to the higher position of master of the Longstone lighthouse.
Let all young men who aspire to high positions, and are anxious to rise above their fellows, be sure of this, that those who have the apportioning of important and lucrative places of trust, judge in the main by Christ"s rule, "He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in much."
Subsequent events proved that Grace Darling was worthy of such a father. She was baptised at Bamborough Church, and received the name of her maternal grandmother; and soon grew to be an interesting, toddling little maiden, the joy of her father"s heart. She was not the youngest of the family, for there were twin-brothers born two years after her, but it was said that Grace was the favourite always, and that her winsome ways, and tractable and affectionate spirit, endeared her greatly to her parents.
The Farne Isles would seem to have made rather a desolate home for the girlhood of a romantic maiden.
Speaking of the time when St. Cuthbert dwelt there, Raine, in his "History of Durham," says:--"Farne certainly afforded an excellent place for retirement and meditation. Here the prayer or repose of the hermit would be interrupted by the screaming of the water-fowl, or the roaring of the winds or waves--not unfrequently, perhaps, would be heard the thrilling cry of distress from a ship breaking to pieces on the iron sh.o.r.e of the island, but this would more entirely win the recluse from the world, by teaching him a practical lesson on the vanity of man and his operations, when compared with the mighty works of the Being who "rides on the whirlwind, and directs the storm.""
Another writer says of it--"Looking at the situation and aspects of the Farne Islands, of which Longstone is one, we cannot but be struck with their extreme dreariness. Not a tree nor a bush, hardly a blade of gra.s.s, is to be seen. The islands are twenty-five in number, many of them with a sheer frontage to the sea of from six to eight hundred feet. They mostly lie north and south, parallel with each other; a few of the smaller ones extend to the north of the larger, thus rendering the navigation in their neighbourhood still more dangerous. The sea rushes at the rate of six or eight miles an hour through the channel between the smaller islands; and previous to the erection of a lighthouse there, many distressing shipwrecks occurred."
Howitt, in speaking of the Longstone Island, says--"It was like the rest of these desolate isles, all of dark whinstone, cracked in every direction, and worn with the action of winds, waves, and tempests, since the world began. On the greatest part of it there was not a blade of gra.s.s, nor a grain of earth, but bare and iron-like stones, crusted round the coast, as far as high-water mark, with limpit, and still smaller sh.e.l.ls. We ascended wrinkled hills of black stone, and descended into worn and dismal dells of the same--into some of which, where the tide got entrance, it came pouring and roaring in raging whiteness, and churning the loose fragments of the whinstone into round pebbles, and piled them up into deep crevices with sea-weeds, like great round ropes and heaps of fucus. Over our heads screamed hundreds of birds, the gull mingling his laughter most wildly."
But the wild scream of the sea-fowl, and the thunder of the surf, were such common things to the little Darlings that they took but small notice of them. Grace, indeed, having them mingled with her mother"s cradle-song, would scarcely like to have missed the familiar sounds, since they had lulled her to sleep at night, and awoke her in the dawn.
When it was time for her to begin her education, her father found the task of teaching her an easy and a pleasant one; for Grace was quick and intelligent. Moreover, she had that first and highest qualification of a good scholar--the love of learning. It was no difficulty to get her to bend all her powers to the pursuit of knowledge, for she could not help doing so, the thoroughness that she had inherited from her father urging her to overcome obstacles, and to make herself perfect wherever perfection was within her reach.
She soon learned to read, and then a new world opened to her. Little it matters to the reader whether he sits on the rock where the sea-waves wash up to his feet, or reclines upon a velvet coach, with all the appurtenances of luxury round about him. He lives in other places and other times. He fights in the battles that have long ago been ended. He climbs mountains that his eyes have never seen. He sails over seas where the lights flash, and the scents of fragrant islands come sweetly over him. In fact, if he be a pa.s.sionate and imaginative reader, he loses his life in that of his author, and is filled with exquisite pleasure. Such a reader was Grace Darling. She was not able to procure many books, for their library, though good, was small, but those which were in her power she "read, marked, learned, and inwardly digested." She had a retentive memory, and there is no doubt that to read as she did, was really of more advantage to her than it would have been had she subscribed to Mudie, and seen all the new novels of the day. She was fond of romance, being romantic herself; and the legends and traditions of heroic Northumberland were most dear to her heart. She read and re-read those border ballads in which all the world delights, feeling that the prowess described in them, the sufferings endured, the struggles made, and the victories won, were those of her own people. Had not Bamborough Castle, and its brave inhabitants, witnessed it all, and could she not see the n.o.ble fortress from her own bedroom window? A people with so much historic lore, with such a wonderful past, full of glorious deeds and marvellous sorrows, must needs have some of the heroic spirit in them; and as it was born in Grace Darling, and fostered by the very leisure and solitariness of her girlhood, we are not surprised that it flashed forth afterward, in a deed as courageous as, and much more n.o.ble than, many war exploits of her forefathers.
But dearly as she loved these old romances, Grace Darling was not allowed, even as a girl, to let them fill her life. If the words were not known to her, which have nerved many a girl to practical usefulness, their spirit was--
"Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever, Do n.o.ble deeds, not dream them all day long."
And she soon learned to take her share in the household duties and difficulties. Her brothers were sent to the mainland to finish their education, and to prepare for the honourable career of hard work that was before them. But Grace could not be spared. She was so dear to her father, and so necessary to her mother, that they decided that whoever left the lighthouse-home Grace must not. She was quite willing to remain, and was contented with her lot. She followed her father"s example, by doing what she could both well and cheerily. She had a good voice, and she often sang at her work, so that her joy communicated itself to others. Still it was a happy time for her when the work of the day was done, and she was able to sit down by the fireside, and read from her favourite books, while her mother worked.
One year, however, Grace had a holiday. It was beautiful weather, in the end of the summer; and some of her friends sent to tell her how lovely the corn-fields looked, and how sweet the air was on the mainland around Bamborough. And they said more than that. All hands were wanted to help with the ingathering; and as Grace was known to be a young person who had strong arms, and was not afraid to use them, if she could come and lend her a.s.sistance, she would receive a hearty welcome.
Grace much wished to go, so she proceeded to endeavour to gain the consent of her parents.
"Father, can you spare me for a holiday?"
"Why do you want a holiday, Grace?"
"The harvest is ready to be got in, and they have sent to me to go and help."
"But that would not be a holiday, my child. Harvesting is very hard work."
"It would be like a holiday to me, father. I should like to go very much. I have not seen a corn-field all the summer, and I know the country must be looking very beautiful now. I long to go. Do let me, if you can possibly spare me."
"Well; we must not be selfish, Grace. You can go if you like, only come back as soon as you can."
So Grace had her holiday that summer, nor did she return until she had won golden opinions from the friends with whom she stayed, and among whom she worked.
One old woman especially, who felt an affection for the girl, and who, while they worked together, often received kindness and consideration from her, esteemed so highly her young companion of the harvest-field, that she always remembered her with fondness, and when, afterward, she heard that she had saved the lives of some people, and made her name honoured and beloved in all parts of the land, she declared that she was not surprised, for she had known Grace Darling herself.