Saving the Glorieuse
Jan. 31st, 2010 01:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anteros_lmcLast bit of Melville, before White-jacket returns to the book shelf. I'm posting this for no other reason that I like it :)
The Professor of the Neversink is quizzing the midshipmen on the disposition of the British West Indian squadron under Rodney when they engaged the French fleet, commanded by Count de Grasse, off the Island of Dominicia in 1782
Melville, H., (2000), White-Jacket or the World in a Man-of-War, Northwestern University Press, pp 347-348.
The Professor of the Neversink is quizzing the midshipmen on the disposition of the British West Indian squadron under Rodney when they engaged the French fleet, commanded by Count de Grasse, off the Island of Dominicia in 1782
"Shall I clean the board sir?" asked Mr Pert.
"No sir; not till you have saved that crippled French ship in the corner. The ship young gentlemen is the Glorieuse; you perceive she is cut off from her consorts, and the whole British fleet is giving chase to her. Her bowsprit is gone; her rudder is torn away; she has one hundred round shot in her hull, and two thirds of her men are dead or dying. What's to be done? the wind being at northeast by north?"
"Well sir" said Mr Dash, a chivalric young gentleman from Virginia, "I wouldn't strike yet; I'd nail my colours to the main-royal-mast! I would by Jove!"
"That would not save your ship, sir; besides, your main-mast has gone by the board."
"I think, sir" said Mr Slim, a diffident youth, "I think, sir, I would haul back the fore-top-sail."
"And why so? of what service would that be, I should like to know, Mr Slim?"
"I can't tell exactly; but I think it would help her a little, " was the timid reply.
"Not a whit sir - not one particle; besides you can't haul back your fore-top-sail - your fore-mast is lying across you forecastle."
"Haul back the main-top-sail, then," suggested another.
"Can't be done; your main-mast, also, has gone by the board!"
"Mizzen-top-sail?" meekly suggested little Boatplug.
"Your mizzen-top-mast let me inform you, sir, was shot down in the first of the fight!"
"Well sir" cried Mr Dash "I'd tack the ship, any way; bit 'em good-by with a broadside; nail my flag to the keel, if there was no other place; and blow my brains out on the poop!"
"Idle, idle, sir! worse than idle! you are carried away, Mr Dash, by your ardent Southern temperament! Let me inform you, young gentlemen, that this ship, can not be saved."
Melville, H., (2000), White-Jacket or the World in a Man-of-War, Northwestern University Press, pp 347-348.
