The seriousness of the position was now breaking upon him, though even then he did not realise how near the end was. The crew worked hard but orderly, hoisting out the boats, or doing whatever they were told, while down below the engineers and stokers kept at their posts, albeit they knew that they stood little chance if the ship dived beneath the surface.
Presently the men were drawn up on deck, four deep, calm, cool, facing death without a tremor or sign of panic, which would have been calamitous.
“Steady, men, steady!” cried the chaplain, the Rev. Samuel Morris; and steady they were, till Tryon, seeing that all hope was gone, signalled for boats to be sent, and gave orders for every man to look after himself.
“Jump, men, jump!” was the command; and they rushed to the side, ready to fling themselves overboard. As they did so the great ship turned turtle, and men went tumbling head first into the sea, down the bottom of the ship as she dived, her port screw racing through the air.
The scene that followed beggars description; but the following extract is from a letter written to the Times by a midshipman who was on one of the other ships. He was sent off in a boat to rescue the struggling men in the water.
“It was simply agonising to watch the wretched men struggling over the ship’s bottom in masses”
“We could see all the men jumping overboard,” he wrote. “She continued heeling over, and it was simply agonising to watch the wretched men struggling out of the ports over the ship’s bottom in masses. All this, of course, happened in less time than it takes to write. You could see the poor men who, in their hurry to jump over, jumped on to the screw being cut to pieces as it revolved. She heeled right over, the water rushing in through her funnels. A great explosion of steam rose; she turned right over, and you could see all the men eagerly endeavouring to crawl over her bottom, when, with a plunge, she went down bows first. We could see her stern rise right out of the water and plunge down, the screws still revolving. It was simply a dreadful sight. We could not realise it. Personally, I was away in my boat, pulling as hard as we could to the scene of the disaster.... After pulling up and down for two hours, we reorganised the fleet, leaving two ships on the scene of the disaster; and, making for Tripoli, anchored for the night. No one can realise the dreadful nature of the accident.
“However, dropping the Victoria for a minute, we must turn to the Camperdown. She appeared to be in a very bad way. Her bow was sinking gradually, and I must say at the time I thought it quite on the cards that she might be lost also; but, thanks to the indomitable way in which the crew worked, they managed to check the inrush by means of the collision mat and water-tight doors. All last night, however, they were working hard to keep her afloat.
“You can imagine our feelings—the flagship sunk with nearly all hands, the other flagship anchored in a sinking condition. We have a lot of the survivors of the Victoria on board, but their accounts vary greatly.... Anyhow, what is quite certain is that the admiral did not realise the gravity of his situation, or else he would have abandoned the ship at once, instead of trying to save her. The discipline was magnificent. Not until the order was given did a single man jump overboard.