Great Britain -- History, Naval -- 18th century -- Fiction; Nore Mutiny, 1797 -- Fiction
In the meantime, the mainsail had been set by the first-lieutenant, and
the crew, unoccupied, had their eyes directed for a little while upon
the French vessel, which lay on her beam-ends, enveloped in spray; but
they also perceived what, during the occupation and anxiety of action,
they had not had leisure to attend to, namely, the desperate situation
of their own ship. The promontory was now broad on the weather bow, and
a reef of rocks, partly above water, extended from it to leeward of the
frigate. Such was the anxiety of the ship's company for their own
safety, that the eyes of the men were turned away from the stranded
vessel, and fixed upon the rocks. The frigate did all that a gallant
vessel could do, rising from the trough of the sea, and shaking the
water from her, as she was occasionally buried forecastle under, from
the great pressure of the sail, cleaving the huge masses of the element
with her sharp stem, and trembling fore and aft with the violence of her
own exertions. But the mountainous waves took her with irresistible
force from her chesstree, retarding her velocity, and forcing her each
moment nearer to the reef.
"Wear ship, Mr Hardy," said the captain, who had not spoken one word
since he rebuked the quarter-master--"we have but just room."
The master directed the man at the wheel to put helm up, in a firm but
subdued tone, for he was at that moment thinking of his wife and
children. The ship had just paid off and gathered fresh way, when she
struck upon a sunken rock. A loud and piercing cry from the ship's
company was followed by an enormous sea striking the frigate on the
counter, at once heeling her over and forcing her ahead, so that she
slipped off from the rock again into deep water.
"She's off again, sir," said the master.
"It's God's mercy, Mr Pearce! Bring her to the wind as soon as you
can," replied the captain, with composure. But the carpenter now ran up
the hatchway, and, with a pallid face and hurried tone, declared that
the ship was filling fast, and could not be kept afloat more than a few
minutes.
"Going down!--going down!" was spread with dreadful rapidity throughout
the ship, and all discipline and subordination appeared to be at an end.
Some of the men flew to the boats hoisted up on the quarters, and were
casting loose the ropes which secured them, with hands that were
tremulous with anxiety and fear.
"Silence there, fore and aft!" roared the captain, in the full compass
of his powerful voice. "Every man to his station. Come out of those
boats directly."
All obeyed, except one man, who still continued to cast loose the
gripes.
"Come out, sir," repeated the captain.
"Not I, by God!" replied the sailor, coolly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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