My Shipmate Louise: The Romance of a Wreck, Volume 3 (of 3)Russell, William Clark
General
My Shipmate Louise: The Romance of a Wreck, Volume 3 (of 3)
Russell, William Clark
Sea stories; Shipwrecks -- Fiction
The rum was kept down in the steerage; every day Wilkins drew as much as
sufficed to furnish the men with two glasses apiece. After drawing the
stuff, he regularly presented himself with it to Lush or me, according
as the one or the other of us was on deck, that it might be seen he had
drawn the allowance only. The men seemed fully satisfied. There was
never any demand for more grog than what was given to them, and I do not
recall a single instance of intoxication: which I attributed to my
determined and oft-repeated declaration that should there be any
exhibition of drunkenness on board the barque, I would abandon my
undertaking, and leave the carpenter to navigate her. Dread of the
consequences of drink amongst a mob of such ungoverned men as those
fellows, rendered me extraordinarily impressive and emphatic in this
threat; and I knew that the carpenter was convinced in his own mind that
I would prove as good as my word. Indeed, I had only to look at Miss
Temple to shrink from the mere thought of drunkenness amongst the
sailors. All other risks that might attend a drinking bout forward were
as naught compared to the peril _she_ would stand in. The least insult
offered her I should resent with the muzzle of my pistol: and if it ever
came to _that_, then God alone could foresee the character of the
tragedy that must follow.
But, as I have said, they showed themselves satisfied with their two
glasses a day. The sense of festivity never carried them further than an
occasional dance on the forecastle head of a fine dog watch, when they
would diversify their caper-cutting with songs and yarns—all as harmless
as child’s play, so unsuggestive of the errand that we were upon, so
dumb as indications of the smouldering fires which were to be blown into
a blaze by want of judgment on my part, that any one viewing us from the
deck of a ship close at hand would have supposed the _Lady Blanche_ the
very peacefullest of traders, worked by the happiest and most liberally
paid of crews, and bound on a voyage that was scarcely more than one of
pleasure from port to port.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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