Ballads of Brave Deeds :: :: University of Virginia Library

The following incident occurred at the Gainsborough Station on 26th December 1895;—a striker named Thomas White-house, twenty years of age, saving the life of one of Messrs Smith & Son's newsboys at the risk of his own. The lad, named Furniss, about fifteen years of age, was crossing the metals when his foot became wedged in the points on the up line. The train was in sight, and the lad shrieked for help, and was told by some of the people to lie down. Whitehouse threw down some parcels he was carrying and jumped on to the metals, but could not dislodge the lad's foot. Furniss threw his arms round him, and shrieked again for help. Whitehouse then put his head between the lad's legs, and bodily lifted him out of his precarious position, and they both fell into the six-foot just as the train rushed in.

Thomas Whitehouse sends me the following account:— “On Boxing Day I was going to Rotherham, to see some friends, and whilst I was standing on the platform of the M. S. & L. Railway Station, the bell rang for the ten minutes to eight train, and when it was about 90 or 100 yards from the station, the news-boy, William Furniss, came running across the metals and stepped on to the points to get on to the platform and his foot slipped in between. The poor lad looked around and saw the train coming towards him and on the same metals and cried for help. I saw the danger, dropped my parcels and jumped down to try and get him out, but his foot was too fast the first try; he then cried bitterly for help; I put my head between his legs and lifted all I could, and his boot-sole gave way, and we both fell into the six-foot. I then got up, lifted him up, and carried him to the other side of the platform.”

Land of the Lindiswaras of old,
Land of Hingvar and Hubba the Dane,
Land of the grey and the golden wold,
Land of the glimmering seaward plain:

Not in vain has your seed brought forth
Hughs and Langtons fearless and strong,
Bred us a Franklin—Star of the North,
Reared us a Tennyson—Lord of Song:

Made sheep-masters and lords of the soil
Tamers of marshland, victors of fen,
Conquerors they by the rights of toil
God's fellow-labourers—husbandmen.

Not in vain, ere the Norman came,
Did your fruit in the furrows of freedom wave;

136

The Trent may have reddened but not with shame,
For he found in Lincolnshire never a slave.

Now in the end of the days has it proved
Seed as good as in time of yore;
Still by your sons is the free life loved,
Life, free to be given, is loved the more.

There at Gainsborough's market-town,
While the bells of Christmas echo in Heaven,
Shall a brave man venture his life laid down,
That life for another may so be given.

We were gaily gossiping holiday folk,
The train was due, there was much to say,
The signal fell, and we saw the smoke
And heard a murmuring far away.

And the faint far murmur became a roar,
When a great cry rose and our hearts aghast
Hushed the babble so loud before,
“There's a lad on the rails and his foot is fast!”

137

Let women faint, and the little ones scream,
And strong men hopelessly gasp for breath,
Let the old men stand stock-still as in dream,
But one will succour or die the death.

With sinews strong for his hammer's stroke,
And eye sure-trained by his striker's trade,
Young Whitehouse leaps from the fear-dazed folk,
Of the rush of the “Fire-Drake” unafraid.

He has clutched the lad—must he vainly strive?
He will lever his body with good head-thrust;
The train roars in !—are they dead or alive?
They are safe in the six-foot's smother and dust!

Oh! Land of the Lindiswaras of old,
Land of Hingvar and Hubba the Dane,
There are heroes still in the fen and the wold,
The seed of their sowing was not in vain.

When, at William the Conqueror's bidding, the Doomsday Book was compiled, Nottingham and Lincolnshire were the only two counties wherein it was found that there were no slaves.