THE FOLLOWING MORNING was wet and blustery and Alice had been kept awake during the night by a storm more ferocious than anything she had ever experienced before. It rattled the windows of her bedroom so badly that she was forced to rise and jam a wedge of paper between window and frame. It solved the problem of the rattling, but left a gap through which the wind howled for the remainder of the night.
Despite the weather, she and Percy resumed work in the neglected little church immediately after breakfast but they were destined not to be allowed to continue it without interruption. They had been working for no more than half-an-hour when an ill-dressed, windswept man with a great deal of untidy facial hair and only marginally younger than Percy rushed into the church.
For a moment he seemed taken aback at the sight of Alice working inside, but he was far too excited to be distracted for long from sharing the news he bore. Inclining his head with a brief ‘Ma’am,’ in acknowledgement of her presence, he turned his attention to her companion.
‘Come quick, Percy, a ship called the Balladeer’s struck the Lye rock and is breaking up fast. Word has it she was outward bound for America, so she’ll be well provisioned. There’ll be rich pickings to be had if we get there before the coast guards and revenue men. The workhouse master’s sent every able-bodied man and boy down to the shore to bring back what they can.’
‘What about those on board?’ The unexpected question came from Alice. ‘Have they been rescued?’
The visitor appeared momentarily puzzled before replying. ‘I doubt it, there’s not many survive being shipwrecked on this stretch of coast …’ Then, as though dismissing her, he turned back to Percy, ‘Are you coming? You’d best be quick or the whole of Tintagel will be there before us.’
When Percy looked at Alice uncertainly, she said, ‘We’ll both go to see what’s happening. I don’t know what the law says about gathering goods from a shipwreck, although it sounds as though it must be illegal if there’s a need to beware of revenue men. Fortunately that need not trouble us, we will be looking to see if there are any poor souls in need of our help.’
Percy showed signs of embarrassment and the visitor looked at Alice in disbelief before saying, ‘Of course we’ll have a look for ’em, but it shouldn’t put a stop to us picking up anything worth having. There’s little enough comes the way of folk around these parts that doesn’t need paying for in one way or another.’
As Alice, Percy and the old man – referred to by Percy as ‘Henry’ – made their way along a narrow path that led to the cliff-top they joined a horde of men, women and even small children heading in the same direction. It was apparent that word of the wreck had spread far and wide in the mysterious but efficient manner that news travelled in rural Cornwall.
Everyone was highly excited and Alice did not see a single face which appeared to show concern at the possibility of finding victims of the shipwreck in urgent need of help.
As they drew closer to the sea, the sound of waves crashing against the high cliffs grew frighteningly loud and such was their force Alice imagined the very ground beneath her feet to tremble. The wind here on the edge of the cliffs was stronger than inland and when she and her two eager companions reached a steep wet path leading down to a small beach that was heavily studded with huge glistening rocks, she found herself looking at a sea that was a foam-flecked cauldron. Caught up in its fury she could see a dismasted ship, lying askew on rocks just beyond a small headland, some distance from the beach.
All around the ship an ever-expanding raft of broken timbers and flotsam rose and fell with the waves, as did the bulk of the stricken ship. Only the bow seemed immovably impaled upon jagged black rocks that reared above the turbulent water each time a wave retreated.
As she looked, horrified at the scene, a gigantic wave swept in from the sea and for many moments ship and rocks disappeared from view beneath hundred of tons of surging water.
All along the fluctuating shoreline hordes of excited sea-drenched foragers, too impatient to wait for the sea’s bounty to be cast ashore, were plunging into the sea to seize something – anything – that might prove to be of value.
Some having rescued as much, or more, than could be carried were climbing back up the path from the beach, staggering dangerously under the weight of their booty and frequently shedding some along the way.
Then, as Alice and the others drew closer to the crowded beach she saw a small number of bodies stretched out in a line, well back from the water’s edge. All were naked, or almost so. When Alice commented on their state it was Henry who replied. ‘Some of their clothes will have been torn off by rocks and water, anything left will have gone to someone in need.’
Catching Alice’s expression of disbelief, he added, ‘Well, them as was wearing ’em have no more need of clothes, do they?’
‘But … what will happen to the bodies now?’
Henry shrugged and the answer came from Percy, ‘Depends. If the coast guards get here in time they’ll be buried in the sand. If the tide beats them to it they’ll be taken back out to sea again.’
Alice was horrified, ‘That’s dreadful! Those bodies are of men – Christians, probably. They deserve to be treated with respect. They should be taken off, buried in consecrated ground and have prayers said over them, at the very least.’
They had reached the sloping sand of the beach now and, giving Alice a pitying look, Henry said, ‘You pray if you want, I can see a firkin or two on their way in. They’ll bring me more cheer than any prayer I’ve ever heard said.’
With this, Henry set off at a short-paced but speedy shuffle, heading for the water’s edge.
Looking at Alice apologetically, Percy said, ‘There’s little to look forward to in the workhouse, even the smallest luxury is treasured by them as is lucky enough to benefit from it.’
‘I don’t begrudge them or anyone else the good things in life but they are still human beings and so were the men whose bodies are lying naked on the sand. They deserve the same respect that we would give to our own families.’
At that moment a hubbub on the small beach increased as one of a number of the small barrels being pitched around in the water came within the grasp of a number of men and women who, at risk of their lives, had waded into the sea in order to be first to lay hands on them – and a tussle had broken out.
It ended only when a large wave powered into the bay, sweeping the squabbling men off their feet and actually throwing the firkins over their heads, causing the scrabble for possession to shift to the mob onshore.
The same wave swept far up the beach and Alice retreated before it. Percy came with her reluctantly, casting a covetous glance in the direction of the heavily contested barrel, the contents of which had yet to be established.
Standing uncertainly at the edge of the excited crowd, wondering what action she should – or could – take in respect of the bodies of the shipwrecked sailors, Alice’s attention was drawn to some children scrambling dangerously among the slippery rocks that stretched on either side of the small beach. The waves of an incoming tide thundered around them, drenching them with spray.
Suddenly Alice heard the voice of a young girl calling urgently from among the furthermost rocks. At first she thought the child was in trouble, but as a woman broke away from the mob around the barrels and began running towards the sound, Alice was able to make out what it was the child was shouting.
‘Mama…! Mama…! Quick … I’ve found a body … it’s a girl.’
Scrambling over slippery, sea-drenched rocks Alice was marginally beaten to the spot by the caller’s mother, but she was in time to hear the woman demand, ‘What are you so excited about? Look at her … her frock’s been torn to bits by the rocks and she’s got no shoes on – if she ever had any. She’s not wearing any rings or jewellery, either. What’d you call me here for? Come on, back to the beach with me. There’s things coming ashore we can make use of.’
Arriving at the spot where mother and daughter were, Alice looked past them to where the body of a girl of perhaps thirteen or fourteen was lying half in a shallow rock pool, her body rising and falling with the ebb and flow of the water. There was a length of rope tied about her waist, the other end of which was attached to a splintered spar that might once have been part of a vessel – although it must have been smaller than the ship being battered to pieces offshore.
Giving Alice only the briefest of glances, the woman took her daughter’s hand and began scrambling back towards the crowded beach. Alice called after her angrily. ‘You can’t leave her here like this. Help me carry her to the beach.’
The woman looked at Alice for a second time, then, clutching her daughter’s hand more tightly said contemptuously, ‘She’s as well here as anywhere else. You move her if you want to, I’ve got other things to do.’
With this she turned away and hurried off with her daughter.
Dropping down to the edge of the rock pool Alice looked at the near-naked girl and realised that only the lower half of her body was beneath the water swirling all around her, but another wave like the one that had thrown the barrels on to the beach could sweep over the rocks at any moment, taking the body with it when it retreated to the sea.
Percy, who had been slower than Alice at scrambling over the rocks now put in an appearance and Alice said, ‘Give me a hand, Percy. While I try to pull her clear of the water see if you can untie the rope binding her to the piece of wood.’
Percy lowered himself into the rock pool and while he was fumbling with the wet rope Alice attempted to lift the upper part of the girl’s body, using a hand to lift the girl’s head when it fell back to hang into the water. Her fingers were on the girl’s neck for a moment – and she felt a movement!
Startled, she moved her fingers over the neck until she found what she sought. Looking up at Percy excitedly, she said, ‘She’s not dead, Percy! The girl is still alive!’