For Love of Country: A Story of Land and Sea in the Days of the RevolutionBrady, Cyrus Townsend
History
For Love of Country: A Story of Land and Sea in the Days of the Revolution
Brady, Cyrus Townsend
United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Fiction
In an instant the orderly ship was a babel of apparently hopeless
confusion; the men running hastily to and fro about their various
duties, the sharp commands of the officers, the shrill piping of the
whistles, and the deep voices of the gun captains and the boatswain's
mates, made the usually quiet deck a pandemonium. Some of the seamen
stowed the hammocks on the rail to serve as a guard against shot and
splinters, others triced up stout netting fore and aft, as a protection
against boarders. The light and agile sail-trimmers rove extra slings
on the yards, and put stoppers on the more important rigging, and
tightened and strengthened the boats' gripes. The cabin bulkheads were
unceremoniously knocked down and stowed away, giving a clean sweep fore
and aft the decks. The pumps were rigged and tried, and hose led along
the deck. Arm chests were broken out and opened, and cutlasses and
pistols distributed, and the racks filled with boarding-pikes.
Division tubs filled with water were placed beside the guns, and the
decks sanded lest they should grow slippery with blood. The magazine,
surrounded by a wetted woollen screen to prevent fire, was opened, and
grape and solid shot broken out and piled in the racks about the
hatchways near the guns, the heavy sea lashings of which were cast
loose by the different crews, after which they were loaded and run out
and temporarily secured, the slow matches having been carefully
examined and lighted. The oldest quartermasters took their places near
the helm, and others, assisted by a small body of men, manned the
relieving tackles below, to be used in case, as frequently happened,
the wheel should be shot away. The officers, many of whom put on
boarding caps of light steel with dropped cheek pieces, and covered
with fur, fastened on their arms, looked to the priming of their
pistols, and then hastened to their various stations.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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