Sir Charles Slingsby 269 



plunged into the water and swam to his help. Placing a 

 hand on each of their shoulders, and encouraging him to 

 hold out, they had got close to the shore, when suddenly 

 his hands relaxed their grasp, and he was gone before they 

 had time to realise that their comrade had been snatched 

 away when almost in safety. Poor Orvis, the kennel 

 huntsman, was the only one who floated down the stream, 

 and he, no doubt, succumbed to some injury done by the 

 struggling horses, and his chest was therefore still inflated 

 with air. Noticing him being carried down by the current,' 

 I ran down the bank and swam across to the island, 

 formed by the lock cut, in hopes of being able to save him, 

 but he suddenly sank, and as he had never shown any 

 movement there is no doubt but that he was already dead. 

 After returning to Copgrove, where I was staying at the 

 time, to change my clothes, I returned to assist in the 

 search for the bodies, and it was noteworthy that each one 

 was found within a very few yards of where I had last 

 seen them when alive. 



A very curious circumstance was that my father, the 

 Chairman of the North-Eastern Eailway Company, was 

 holding a Board meeting at Newcastle. The time of the 

 disaster, as shown by the watches which had stopped, was 

 about 2.5 P.M. At 2.30 p.m. a telegram was handed to 

 him in the Board Eoom, giving an account of the disaster, 

 and with a perfectly accurate list of all who were drowned. 

 The stationmaster at Boroughbridge telegraphed the infor- 

 mation. He did not know the person who informed him 

 about it, but the latter must have been very quick, after 

 seeing the disaster, to have galloped the three miles or so 

 that intervened between the railway station and the scene 

 of the accident, in the short time that had elapsed. 



