Orders, Decorations, Medals and Militaria, to include the Brian Ritchie Collection (Part II)

A scarce Royal Humane Society Medal awarded to Petty Officer W. Johnston, for saving life on the occasion of the disastrous collision between H.M. Ships “Victoria” and “Camperdown” in June 1893

Royal Humane Society, small bronze medal (successful) (William Johnston, Petty Officer, R.N., 22 June 1893), complete with riband brooch, good very fine £250-300

This lot was sold as part of a special collection, Medals for Services at Sea from the Collection of the Late Oliver Stirling Lee.

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One of just five such awards given by the Royal Humane Society for this famous disaster, the relevant case history (No. 26,573) citing Johnston’s bravery in rescuing Bandsman G. Ciliberti, who, finding that he was sinking, shouted for assistance:

‘Johnston at once went to Ciliberti’s help and, after swimming about 40 yards, supporting the man, placed him on board a boat from H.M.S. Dreadnought.’

As the accompanying photograph illustrates, the Victoria’s giant propellers continued to rotate right up until the time she slipped beneath the waves, so the circumstances of Johnston’s rescue must have been of a particularly dramatic nature.

On 22 June 1893, Admiral Sir George Tryon put to sea with a squadron of 13 ships from an anchorage off Beirut, bound for the coast off Tripoli. The vessels steamed in two columns, H.M.S. Victoria, his flagship, leading one, and Rear-Admiral Markham, in H.M.S. Camperdown, heading the other. At about 2 p.m., Admiral Tryon sent for his Flag Captain and Staff Commander, telling them of his intention to invert the two columns of ships at six cables distance, a suggestion that alerted the latter to the possible danger of a collision. Very tactfully, for the Admiral was not in the habit of being questioned, his Staff Commander suggested a distance of eight cables as more appropriate. The Admiral responded in the affirmative.

Minutes later, however, he hoisted a signal which stated that the fleet was to form a column of divisions line ahead, ‘with columns disposed abeam to port, columns to be six cables apart’. Once more, ever so tactfully, via the Flag Lieutenant, the Staff Commander asked for confirmation of the signal but the former returned with his tail between his legs: the Admiral was to have his own way. By way of confirmation, Tryon now hoisted another signal: ‘Second division alter course in succession, sixteen points (180 degrees) to starboard preserving the order of the Fleet. First division alter course in succession, sixteen points to port preserving the order of the Fleet’. Almost alone the Staff Commander had dared to question the Admiral’s orders, but now the fearful implications were recognised by all. Rear-Admiral Markham, aboard the Camperdown, was stunned. Accordingly he signalled the Victoria, ‘Do you wish evolution to be performed as indicated by the signal?’ but back came the Admiral’s terse reply, ‘What are you waiting for?’ - short of a court-martial for disobeying orders, Markham was now powerless to act.

Thus the Camperdown and Victoria, both steaming at just over eight knots, commenced the fatal manoeuvre and within minutes the former had struck the Victoria on her starboard bow. The order to close watertight doors and to make ready the collision mat had already been given when disaster appeared inevitable but the volume of water rushing into the Victoria was too great to be stemmed: the initial impact forced her 70 feet through the water and left a gaping hole 12 feet wide at upper deck level and 18 feet wide below the waterline.

Admiral Tryon ordered Captain Bourke below decks to inspect the damage and at the same time signalled to the other ships who were preparing to lower lifeboats: ‘Negate sending boats, but hold them in readiness’. In fact, Bourke’s inspection was pointless - the Victoria had little chance of floating for more than a few minutes; and any lifeboats would probably be sucked down with her. An attempt was made to reach land but, as the steam pressure fell and the helm would not respond, preparations were made to abandon ship.

Prisoners were brought up from the cells and the sick bays emptied. In the latter was Commander Jellicoe who, despite his weakness through fever, was to survive and become First Sea Lord during the Great War. On the bridge, Admiral Tryon muttered to the Staff Commander and the Flag Lieutenant, “It’s all my doing, it’s all my fault.” He then added in a shaky voice, “I think she’s going down.” “Yes, sir,” replied the Staff Commander, “I think she is.”

The Victoria’s bows were now well down and she was heeling to starboard. An officer ordered the men who had bravely held their stations to jump, Petty Officer Johnston among them, but many made their way over the quarterdeck and down the sloping stern, where they were cut to pieces by the still rotating propellers. Soon afterwards she turned completely over and sank with the Admiral, 22 Officers and 336 men still aboard. The entire episode had taken little more than ten minutes.

Rescue boats quickly gathered around the scene and managed to pick-up about 290 men; the Camperdown was temporarily repaired and sailed for Malta. It was here, one month later, that the surviving officers of H.M.S. Victoria were tried by Court Martial for the loss of their ship. The court heard evidence from 17-27 July 1893 and its findings absolved the prisoners of any blame. In fact, the disaster was solely attributed to the actions of Admiral Tryon.

William Johnston was born at Lisburn, Co. Antrim in May 1863 and entered the Royal Navy as a Boy 2nd Class in April 1879. By the time he joined the ship’s company of H.M.S. Victoria in April 1893, he had gained advancement to Petty Officer 1st Class, but he does not appear to have witnessed any active service prior to being pensioned ashore in May 1901.