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Acta Magnanimorum.
III. THE WRECK OF THE ‘BIRKENHEAD.’
On the 26th of February, 1852, about 2 o'clock in the morning, the troop-ship ‘Birkenhead’ struck on a rock off the Cape of Good Hope, and it immediately became manifest that the ship must very shortly sink. The crew numbered 130, the troops on board 480, with 20 women and children. Three boats were lost in launching, and the remainder could carry few beside the women and children. These were embarked, under the care of as many of the crew as could accompany them without overloading the boats. The rest of the crew, and the troops, drawn up on the deck, remained and sank with the ship.
Came from the rebel sea:
“Yield us your babes and women,
Yield us your pride, and flee!”
Sea, thou art over-bold!
Know'st thou not then that banner?
Thou knew'st it surely of old.
Of help and hope forlorn,
Their level eyes untroubled
Looked with a quiet scorn.
They made their choice to die,
And the great name of England
Held up their hearts on high.
The bayonet-line gleamed bright,
Then, with the plunging vessel,
Plunged to eternal night.
Over the rebel sea;
For Death stood near to serve them,
And sealed their victory.
ON THE SAME.
Their unblanched lips drank upDeath from the sea;
They quaffed this loving-cup,
England, to thee.
IV. THE DEATH OF JOHN CHIDDY.
On the 31st of March, 1876, near Bristol, a large stone had fallen from a quarry in front of a railway-train running at full speed. A quarryman named John Chiddy, who was working near the place caught the stone from the rail and saved the train, but was himself struck dead by the engine.
The flashing train flies by;
No shock the traveller feels,
He hears no cry,
Nor wonders, nor looks back;
He saw not what dire Death
Couched in his track.
One man sprang forth to save;
And for their lives who prayed not
His own life gave.
The travellers on their way:
Beneath them, cloven asunder,
Their saviour lay.
The iron pathway's side:
The iron folk forgets,
For whom he died.
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