Chapter Five.
The Loss of H.M.S. Birkenhead.
In 1853 a terrible disaster at sea occurred which was the occasion of a display, to a degree never surpassed and rarely equalled, of the courage, heroism, and discipline of British soldiers. Her Majesty’s steamer Birkenhead was on her passage from Simon’s Bay to Algoa Bay, with 630 souls on board, consisting of the ship’s company, drafts from several regiments, and boys, women, and children. At about ten minutes past two a.m., the weather being fine, with a heavy swell on shore, she struck. Mr Salmond, the master, came on deck, and ordering the engines to be stopped, the boats to be lowered, and an anchor to be let go, directed the military officers, Major Seton, of the 74th Regiment, and Captain Wright, of the 91st, to send the troops to the chain-pumps; the order was implicitly obeyed, and perfect discipline maintained. As soon as Mr Salmond heard that there was water in the ship, he directed the women and children to be put in the cutter in charge of Mr Richards, master’s assistant, which was done.
In ten minutes after the first concussion, and while the engines were turning astern, the ship struck again under the engine-room, and broke in two. Major Seton had called all the officers about him, and impressed on them the necessity of preserving order and silence among the men. Sixty were put on the chain-pumps, and told off in three reliefs; sixty were put on to the tackles of the paddle-box boats, and the remainder were brought on the poop, so as to ease the fore part of the ship. “The order and regularity that prevailed on board, from the time the ship struck till she totally disappeared, far exceeded anything that I thought could be effected by the best discipline,” says one of the survivors. “This is more to be wondered at, seeing that most of the soldiers had been but a short time in the service. Every one did as he was directed, and there was not a cry or a murmur among them until the vessel made her final plunge. I could not name any individual officer who did more than another. All received their orders, and had them carried out as if the men were embarking instead of going to the bottom; there was only this difference, that I never saw any embarkation conducted with so little noise and confusion. Four hundred and thirty-eight men and boys perished on this sad occasion. Major Seton, standing among his men, and refusing to leave them, perished with the rest.” No heroes of whom we read in the page of history ever met their fate with more heroic courage than did these British soldiers embarked on board the Birkenhead, and well worthy is the account to be placed among the gallant deeds of our Redcoats.