Great Britain -- History, Naval -- 18th century -- Fiction; Nore Mutiny, 1797 -- Fiction
The boarding-pikes, which had been lashed round the spanker-boom, had
been detached, either from the shot of the enemy, or some other means,
and were lying on the deck, close to the cabin skylight. The captain
seizing one, and poising it brandished over his head, a third time
ordered the sailor to leave the boat.
"Every man for himself, and God for us all!" was the cool answer of the
refractory seaman.
The pike flew, and entered the man's bowels up to the hilt. The poor
wretch staggered, made a snatch at the davit, missed it, and fell
backwards over the gunwale of the boat into the sea.
"My lads," said Captain M---, emphatically addressing the men, who
beheld the scene with dismay, "as long as one plank, ay, one
_toothpick_, of this vessel swims, I command, and will be obeyed.
Quarter-master, put the helm up. I have but few words to say to you, my
men. The vessel is sinking, and we must put her on the reef--boats are
useless. If she hangs together, do you hang to her as your only chance.
And now farewell, my brave fellows, for we are not all likely to meet
again. Look out for a soft place for her, Mr Pearce, if you can."
"I see but one spot where there is the least chance of her being thrown
up, sir. Starboard a little--steady!--so,"--were the cool directions of
the master, as the ship flew with increased velocity to her doom. The
captain stood on the carronade slide, from which he had addressed the
men. His mien was firm and erect--not a muscle of his countenance was
observed to change or move, as the sailors watched it as the barometer
of their fate. Awed by the dreadful punishment of the mutineer, and
restrained by their long habits of discipline, they awaited their doom
in a state of intense anxiety, but in silence.
All this latter description, however, was but the event of about two
minutes--which had barely expired, when the frigate dashed upon the
reef!
CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR.
Thou, God of this great vast, rebuke those surges which wash both
heaven and hell; and thou that hast upon the winds command, bind then,
in brass, having called them from the deep.
SHAKESPEARE.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account