Great Britain -- History, Naval -- 18th century -- Fiction; Nore Mutiny, 1797 -- Fiction
"Bloody end to the rapparees!" said Conolly, turning to our hero. "It's
helping themselves they're a'ter, instead of helping us. They say all
that comes on shore from a wreck is their own by right, and that they'll
have it. They asked me what was in the cask, and I told them it was the
cratur, sure enough, and they say that they must have it, and everything
else, and that if we don't give it up peaceably, they'll take the lives
of us."
Seymour, who was aware that the surrender of the means of intoxication
would probably lead to worse results, turned to his men, who had
assembled outside of the hut, and had armed themselves with spars and
fragments of the wreck on the first appearance of hostility, and
directed them to roll the cask of rum into the hut, and prepare to act
on the defensive. The English seamen, indignant at such violation of
the laws of hospitality, and at the loss of their clothes, immediately
complied with his instructions, and, with their blood boiling, were with
difficulty restrained from commencing the attack.
A shaggy-headed monster, apparently the leader of the hostile party,
again addressed Conolly in his own language.
"It's to know whether ye'll give up the cask quietly, or have a fight
for it. The devil a pair of trousers will they give back, not even my
own, though I'm an Irishman, and a Galway man to boot. By Jesus, Mr
Seymour, it's to be hoped ye'll not give up the cratur without a bit of
a row."
"No," replied Seymour. "Tell them that they shall not have it, and that
they shall be punished for the theft they have already committed."
"You're to come and take it," roared Conolly, in Irish, to the opposing
party.
"Now, my lads," cried Seymour, "you must fight hard for it--they will
show little mercy, if they gain the day."
The boatswain returned his Bible to his breast, and seizing the mast of
the frigate's jolly-boat, which had been thrown up with the other spars,
poised it with both hands on a level with his head, so as to use the
foot of it as a battering-ram, and stalked before his men.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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