FIGHTING FIRE AND MUTINY ON A TROOPSHIP

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LI, Issue 84, 28 March 1908, Page 4

FIGHTING FIRE AND MUTINY ON A TROOPSHIP

HOW THE (• ALLAXT 64th SAVED THE "SARAH SAXDS."

ANOTHER GLORIOUS CHAPTER OF BRITISH PLUCK.

The British soldier has shown times without number that death has no terrors for him when duty bids him to brave it; but never perhaps has he looked it in the face with more sublime and unflinching heroism than when be fought the flames whi i made of tip "Sarah Sands" an inferno of lire fifty years ago. It was in the autumn of the year is.,,

that the Sara 1 .; S«n<K an iron vessel 2000 toll-*, started on her long Vl':l' to Calcutta, carrying nearly 4iki so! • - | of the 54th Regiment, who were »t», •< help in quelling the Mutiny in India. From the moment she turned her bow southward* disaster seenict to followin the wake of the gallant >hip. Her crew consisted almost entirely of foreigners, the scum of Continental ports, and as mutinous a set of rascals as ever trod a deck. Trouble began with them almost before the cliffs ot England sank below the horizon, and it was only by putting a number of them in irons that the lest of them were oowed into a semblance of submission. Death, sudden and tragic, also came to plunge the ship into gloom; for one day, early in tbe voyage, one of the sailors, who, unlike his fellows, was merry, will-

ing, and popular, fell overboard and, the moment he touched the water, was seized >\ a shark and dragged down into the depths, nothing but his cup and a splash of red marking the spot where he had fallen.

Thus early misfortune brooded over the voyage, which was destined to close in such tragedy as has scarcely a parallel in the annals of seafaring. Storm and tempest lollowed, and it was a sally battered ship which, two months from | the start, put into Cape Town early in I November to take in a freSh supply of coal and stores.

When the Gape had been left behind brighter days followed. On the plac:d waters of the Indian Ocean, with blue skies and a blazing sun overhead, and with more than half the long and dreary journey accomplished, the spirits of all on board rose. ludia was becoming daily nearer, and with it the prospects of fighting and of glory. There was no place now for gloom and foreboding, and when the sun rose on that ill-fated 11th of November there was no heart on board the Sarah Sands that was not happy in the present and full of glad anticipation of the din of battle and the glory of conquest that was no.v near.'

The good ship was many hundred leagues east of the Cape, alone on the ocean, which stretched, unbroken by sail or,land, to the far circle of the horizon. The soldiers had dined, and were smoking, laughing, and chatting light-hearted-ly in groups on the deck; .while the officers and their ladies, in evening attire, were about to -it down to their dinner. It was a scene of summer peace in summer seas; and never did disaster seem so remote and impossible. But listen. What is that word winch passes from lip to lip and leaves each face blanched and aaxious? It is , " Fire," which from a whisper rises in a swift crescendo to an alarmed shout of "Fire!" " WhereV is the terrified question that rise- to a hundred lips. "In the hold/ is the answer which flashes from one end of the vessel to the other; and already the ominous smell of burning is detected in the air. In a moment, by one of those quick transitions which ouly the sudden glimpse of death can occasion, all is confusion and wild alarm. Before the order to close down the hatches could b e executed there was a mad rush for the boat=. Ladies iu their evening finery, and children, some snatched from their beds, were hurriedly covered with blankets and bundled into one of the faints. The other lioato had been seized by the mutinous sailor?, and before a hand could be raised to stay them had been lowered and cast off by their cowardly crews.

But not a soldier on board stirred, though oK one hand safety beckoned; on the other was the certainty (so it seemed) of the most horrible of deaths. Each man held himself ready for orders as steadily as on the parade-ground. If he must die, well and good; but be would first make a gallant tight for li's lite ami that, of his fellows in misfortune.

Tin- lew sailors \-ft on board were not sullieient to handU' the ship; and at the captain's comma ml a score of Tommies set to work to take in the sails as be-t tliev could. Ihe ship's head was brought round to the wind (tho little there was*, in order to keep the flames from spreading ti> the front of the ves,el; hose-pipes were fitted and manned, and every available bucket was seized with ready hand*. And now, in grim earnest. liegaU the most strenuous battle ever waged agaiu-t the demon of fire.

But first wa- life to be saved—life in imminent danger. The word went round that down ill the hold was oao of the mutinous sailors, in irons, close to the flames which were already raging in the stern of the -hip. A Score of soldiers at once volunteered to go to his rescue; but tho risk was too great—not one was allowed to make the venture. As a forlorn hope a rope was let down into the depths of smoke and fire; the sailor was able to seize it, and he was dragged barely conscious and halfdead to the deck. The regimental colours must also be saved at any cost. They were in the saloon at the stern of the lwat, where the fire was burning most fiercely. A couple of young officers plunged down to rescue them, but the heat and smoke were too much for them, and in spite of their bravery they were obliged to lwat a hasty retreat to save their lives. Nothing daunted, a quartermaster named Richmond next volunteered for the forlorn hope. With his face shielded by a wet cloth, and with an axe in his hand, he fought his way through the scorching heat and suffocating smoke to the saloon, cut the colours with frantic strokes of his axe, and staggered blindly with them to the deck where, with ringing cheers in his ea's. he fell senseless, clutching the Hag lie had nearly died to save. Meanwhile the terrible fight with the flames wa- in full progress. Holes hail been cut iu tlie deck in different places, and through these openings, belching volumes of smoke, the gallant soldiers descended to the fiery depths below, groping tlieir way through the darkiwss, with the fieri* gusts ot heat scorching their faces, ami were dashing their buckets of water on the hot iron plates and smouldering tire-heaps, and delugieg the coals in the hunkers. Squad by squad, with the precision of a machine, they sucieeded each other, emerging with grimy, .scorched faces and hands, and eveu with clothes aflame, for a brealch of fresh air; only, a few minutes later, to dive dowu again for a further tussles with their dread and pitiless enemy. To add to the horror of it all there

were sJore- ol barrel- of powder "u U»ard v.the tlanie- might re;nli at any moment and -eatter the ve-- -1 to the wind- in one territie explosion. Bin even ibis imminent prosjH'et did not daunt the gallant ."'(th. There ua--110 laek of volunteer- for the -upreuie danger ot eleariug the magazines. Iu faet. the men almost fought for thTs chaiK-e of a glorious death. Down into the blark. -utrowiting hold they were lowered by rope-: other rope- were attached to the barrel-, whieli were quickly dr;uvu up and thrown overboard until the two priiieipal magazines were emptied.

But ♦llt-TV Url'f -till t w<» barrelwhich lKkU** ' iv.u ii. I hey were ;• 1 • ready ringed round .villi a < inU* of tir ■ wh'wh at. .my moment might reaeh and explode tWiii. And tlm-i tin* fat* l of the Sarah Smd- seemed scaled. Meanwhile tie- nii'fit had fallen ami darkne** added 1" tie- horror- of the scene. T!i.> ulioL- of the after-part of thp ship wanow a Mazing furnaie. throwing up lon-: -hoM- or ilame. wlii-h ran up the rigjrinjj or trnizzen ma-t: the iron hull wa- white-hot. almo-i tu>e.l i<> m^ltinjj-poiut: overhead tlie *ky wa< a deep palpitating red, an,l tin- -*a bneath wa~ n-< a m* ol b10..,1. Then* now no .my lioimuf -.ivihjr tli*' doomed vessel. All that supreme f'Hratro i-oulii do to a\ert di*had -it done; for a dozeu h</iii • th.' -01-ii.r- had forked like demons with an\ ho-e and a\i\ and the 1 end could ii"t '!+■ I.ived. Minute i aft or niiiiin- ,• - •••' -•'•mill- an I

}IOU r t' 4 "he ♦il'.iVi kii-m Hon huddled I tojretln-r in she Ih.w ..1 il- -'.in. WmiM 'the t»\|»l«.-ioii uhieh won!.! ,-\\ I n I Suddenly' fl.tm the -t'-rn >»| I he Im.t. 1 there tl.)-h<d a t«-ri ilif- bur-t of red flam<»: ear- were -tumod bv a deafening "\"T»Io«h»h. a- it the very earth had been rent .Minder, and the -hip -boo;: like a ero.itni> in it- la-i a-onv. M • Worst bad an.i y:i—manol

of marvels,!—the good vessel still floated. A hole large enough to drive a carriage through had been, torn out of her aide, and all her after-part had been reduced to a shell of white-hot iron.

This crowning disaster proved the salvation of the Sarah Sands and of | her living freight. It had killed the (lames that were devouring her, and, although there were twenty feet ot water in her hold, she s-tilV floated, The light was ended; a glorious victory ha:l been won, and life, with all its sweetness enhanced by the dangers it liad escaped, was still possible. Tn bring our story to an end, the Sarah Sands, crippled as she was ant to rely able to keep her mutilated body aliove water, was piloted into Port. !,!utiMauritius, having taken aboanl | ai;aiii the women and children and tho

i-owardly rascals who had so basely deserted her. And never was the toueli of firm land more grateful than to tli-i

brave men, of the o4th who went ashore that day, bearing on their bodies the cruel marks of tho flames they had fought, and with tongues swollen and protruding from, the agonies of thirst, but counting all their sufferings as naught in the glad knowledge that they had added another glorious chapter r.u the history of British pluck.