‘Up with your hammers, Bessy and Madge—Up with your hammer, Sue;Plait their cravats for Joe, Tom, and Jack—Cravats they’ll grin grimly through!Never hang head, girls, and never look glum,Though they strap for it, all the three,There’s stout fellows plenty are left in the world,In spite of old Tyburn tree!’
‘Up with your hammers, Bessy and Madge—Up with your hammer, Sue;Plait their cravats for Joe, Tom, and Jack—Cravats they’ll grin grimly through!Never hang head, girls, and never look glum,Though they strap for it, all the three,There’s stout fellows plenty are left in the world,In spite of old Tyburn tree!’
‘Up with your hammers, Bessy and Madge—Up with your hammer, Sue;Plait their cravats for Joe, Tom, and Jack—Cravats they’ll grin grimly through!Never hang head, girls, and never look glum,Though they strap for it, all the three,There’s stout fellows plenty are left in the world,In spite of old Tyburn tree!’
‘Up with your hammers, Bessy and Madge—
Up with your hammer, Sue;
Plait their cravats for Joe, Tom, and Jack—
Cravats they’ll grin grimly through!
Never hang head, girls, and never look glum,
Though they strap for it, all the three,
There’s stout fellows plenty are left in the world,
In spite of old Tyburn tree!’
I would the reader could see the great cabin with all the drunkards in it, as now it appeared. Some sat in sodden solemnity muttering to themselves; some rolled, cursing and fighting, on the floor; others disputed and drank, trying, as it were, to outscream their adversaries. The watch on deck, who had but newly come down, said not much, but drank off great goblets of spirits, as if it were a race who should be intoxicated first; and so, in good sooth, in a very short space of time, the new comers were as madly drunk as the original revellers. But in all the insanity of the excitement, Jerry kept the lead. His face was all flushed and distorted with the liquor, and he champed foam and saliva from his mouth—
‘Here,’ he roared, ‘a health—to the—good fellows—who cry stand and deliver—to the Dons. Bumpers, and no heel-taps! Huzza! up yees out!’
And following his example, all the rest drained their glasses, and flung them in a volley over their shoulders.
‘More honour—to that toast,’ hiccuped out the brutal man; and, suddenly drawing two pistols from his belt, he fired them right and left into the air.
‘Huzza!’ shouted the others—‘huzza!’ and in a minute knives were flashing, and, amid shouts and yells, the cabin rung to some half dozen of pistol shots fired in imitation of the leader of the debauch, in the midst of which a wild screech rose from the darkest corner of the cabin, and Josiah Ward staggered out, his face all blood, and fell at full length on the floor.
‘Ho! ho!’ shouted Jerry, with an insane roar of laughter; ‘a bullet found its billet. Caulk the shot-holewith the stopper of a brandy flask; it will be better in a man’s flesh than in a bottle to-night.’
A scream of laughter answered this proposal, and some half-dozen of the company getting up, either to aid or mock the wounded man, fell in a heap, shouting and swearing above him.
‘Nixon—Tommy Nixon—you don’t drink—Nixon—you thief—you are sober,’ yelled Jerry. ‘There’s mischief in it—comrades! mischief! But here, we’ll alter all that—bring hither that tub.’
The tub of which he spoke was an empty bucket, which rolled upon the floor. It was immediately plucked up, and trundled along the table to where he stood staggering at the head of it.
‘Now fetch me them brandy-bottles,’ cries the mate.
‘Go easy, go easy,’ says Nixon.
‘Easy,’ retorted Jerry, in his passion; ‘thou art but a cur, Tommy Nixon, to shirk the bottle in that fashion; but thy throat shall scald for it—there.’
And at the last word the drunken villain caught up a flask of brandy by the neck, and smashed it into the bucket. ‘There, and there, and there,’ he shouted, dashing in bottle after bottle. ‘And now, Nixon, since you wont drink brandy raw, you shall drink it burning, my son.’
In a moment, and before any one could interfere, the savage caught up a candle, burning on the table before him, and flung it all alight into the raw spirits.
Rumbold and I uttered a cry of horror as the brandy flashed up in a blue flickering blaze to the very ceiling of the cabin, but the besotted company only shouted and cheered.
‘Come, Tommy Nixon,’ roared the mate, ‘dip thy beak into that snapdragon—come.’
And so saying, he grasped the man with both his brawny fists.
‘Let go, let go your hold, you idiot!’ cried Nixon, ‘you will have the ship on fire.’
‘And what’s that to me!’ shouted the infuriated man. ‘An’ you will not drink, by God I shall souse thy head in the burning liquor.’
At these words they grappled, and yelling and cursing, they fought for a minute or two, staggering backwards and forwards, when the brute force of Jerry prevailing, he dragged Nixon up to the blaze, and dashed him head first into the flame, falling himself on the top of the struggling wretch, and upsetting the tub, which instantly sent a flood of liquid fire surging all over the cabin.
Oh, then, the oaths, the yells, the frantic strugglings, which filled that hell upon the waters! Dozens of bottles had been already broken or spilt, and their contents, surging about, had thoroughly drenched the clothes of the wallowing brutes, who lay sprawling upon the floor. The cabin was, in a moment, one blaze of flame, in which men with their clothes and hair a-fire, and their faces livid and ghastly in the glare, leaped and staggered, and sought to clamber on barrels and casks, blaspheming, and screaming, and scuffling madly with each other.
‘Up, up!’ shouted Rumbold, ‘up for dear life!’ All that I have described took place almost in the time that one sees a flash of lightning. In a moment, without knowing how I had done it, I was upon the deck, with my clothes and hair singed, but otherwise unscathed. As I drew in the first blessed breath of the fresh cool night, a loud explosion shook the deck under our feet, and we heard the tinkling crash of the cabin windows as the glass was blown out of them.
‘There went a powder flask!’ cried Rumbold; and then, as if the word appalled him, he staggered back from me, crying—
‘The magazine—the magazine—it is just beneath the floor of the cabin!’
What I did for the next moment I hardly know. It is only a vision, of rushing to the davits where a quarter boat hung—of the rope flying hot through my hand—ofRumbold searching frantically for oars on the deck, while a blue flame streamed up through the sky-light and cabin stairs, and the shrieks of the burning men mingled in the roar of the fierce fire!
But in that vision, I had one awful glimpse down into the cabin. May I be enabled to forget what I saw! The masses of fat meat, the dry bedding, the clothes scattered on the floor, masses of them being drenched with spirits, were all flaming together, while the drunkards rolled, roaring and scuffling, on the table and the floor, their flesh actually scorching from the bones! I say no more on’t. Would I could think no more on’t.
Over the side went we with a single leap down into the surging boat. ‘Off, off—push off!’ And as the pinnace glanced away from the ship, tongues of flame curled and roared out of the cabin windows all round the stern. ‘Pull for life!’ We stretched to the oars like madmen, and the boat flew over the water. The mizen-sail, which was as dry as dust, for there was no dew, caught fire from the blaze, roaring up from the sky-light, and in a minute, the scorching element ran all aloft, blazing along the ropes, licking up the broad sails, making the strong canvas tinder, and lighting up for miles and miles the lone midnight sea! There! A bright sheet of red fire shot forth, as if a volcano had burst out under the ocean, the glare showing us for an instant, and no more, a vision of huge beams, and rent masses of timber, flying out and upwards; and then—just as we heard the sound of the explosion, not a loud sharp crack, but a smothered roar, which made all the air shake palpably around us—down with a stately swoop, fell the flaming mizen-mast into the sea!
We sat in speechless horror—unable to move our oars. Then all the fire, low and aloft, disappeared with a loud hiss, and a great white cloud of steam rose boiling from the wreck, loud sounds of cracking and rending timber coming forth from the vapour, mingled with the gurgling rush of water pouring into and sucking down the shattered ship. After this, the white smoke rose and floated likea canopy, all above our heads, and we gazed and gazed, but saw nothing on the midnight sea.
‘They are gone—it is all over,’ said Rumbold. ‘Lord, have mercy on their sinful souls.’
To this I solemnly responded, with my heart as with my tongue, ‘Amen! amen!’