THE LOSS OF THE BIRKENHEAD.

Kumara Times, Issue 1578, 18 October 1881, Page 2

THE LOSS OF THE BIRKENHEAD.

The Birkenhead, a large troop-ship, with G 32 souls on board, was sailing off the coast of Africi on a clear night in February, 1852. As the captain was anxious to shorten the vovage, and the sea was calm, he kept as near as possible to the slmr-.

Off Cape Danger, the vessel was stwmiiug tit the rate of nine. mites hu hour. Suddenly she struck upon a sunken rock with such force that in a few minutes she was a wreck. The roll of the drum called the soldiers to arms on the tipper deck. The call was promptly obeyed, though every man knew that it was his death-sum-mons. There they stood as if on parade, no man showing re.stlesme.-s or f.-Hi-, though the ship was every moment going down, down. Their c .mm ouler, Colonel Seton of the 74th Highlanders, told them that there were only boats enough to carrv the women and chilren to slime, and that, these must be saved first.

* “The Royal Reader, No. IV.”— I T. Nelson and Sous, publishers; London and Ediubnrgl).

No man mutterei an objection. The boats were got ready and lowered. Everything was done quickly, for there was no time to lose; but there was no haste, no panic, no wailings of despair. The women and children were got into the boats. They pushed off, and made for the shore, landed their freight, and returned for another. Again and again this was done, till all, or nearly all, the women and children were saved—the soldiers all the while giving help or looking on without a murmur.

All was now done that could be done. There were no boats for the troops; and the ship was sinking so fast that it was vain to expect the boats to return in time to save any of them. The soldiers stood on deck in their ranks, shoulder to shoulder, officers and men together, -watching the sharks that were waiting for them in the waves, and patiently abiding the end.

And the end soon came. In half-an-hour from the time when she struck, the Birkenhead went to the bottom, and the waves closed over a band of the truest heroes the world has everseen. The following verses (by Sir F, H. Doyle) are put . into the month of a soldier who is supposed to have survived : Right on onr flank the crimson sun went down, The deep sea rolled around in dark repose, When, like the wild shriek from some captured town, A cry of women rose. The stout ship Birkenhead lay hard and fast, Caught, without hope, upon a hidden rock ; Her timbers thrilled as nerves, when through them passed The spirit of that shock. And evei-, like base cowards who leave their ranks In dangers hour, before the rush of steel, Drifted away, disorderly, the planks, From underneath her keel.

Confusion spread; for, though the coast seemed near, Sharks hovered thick along that white sea-brink. The boats could hold I— not all—and it was clear She was about to sink. “ Out with those boats, and let ns haste away,” Cried one, “ere yet yon sea the bark devours.” The man thus clamouring was, I scarce need say, No officer of ours. We knew our duty better than to care For such loose babblers, and made fto reply ; Till our good colonel gave the word, and there Formed us in line—to die. There rose no murmur from the ranks, no thought By shameful strength unhonored life to seek ; Our post to quit w© were not trained, nor taught To trample down the weak. So we made women with their children goThe oars ply back again and yet again ; Whilst, inch by inch, the drowning ship sank low, Still under steadfast men. What followed why recall 1 The brave who died, Died without flinching in the bloody surf. They sleep as well beneath that purple tide, As others under turf. There stands in Greenwich Hospital a monument, erected by command of Queen Victoria, in memory of the “ heroic constancy and unbroken discipline” which officers and men displayed.