The deep tones of his voice startled me at first with their intenseness, but the great ruffian laughed. Then he suddenly caught Mr. Robinson’s eye, and a change came upon him.
He quietly asked my father’s forgiveness and apologized for swearing; then he resumed work with an agility that reminded me I must not stand about gaping.
Mr. Robinson, however, was not satisfied with what he had accomplished. He went to the foreman and, after a little argument, persuaded him to discharge the three new men, much to the big bald-headed ruffian’s apparent disgust.
This fellow and his comrades left the yard with some show of feeling against Mr. Robinson, and went directly to our young pastor, Mr. Rhett, with their grievance. They showed him letters telling of their good character, signed by several prominent officers in the army at the North, and explained that they wished to work, and could do so to some advantage on a part of the hull where Mr. Robinson would not be annoyed by their presence.
When Mr. Rhett heard it was Mr. Robinson who had had the men discharged his indignation ran high, and he went about telling such a tale of persecution that even my mild-mannered sister Peggy was ready to take up matters in their behalf.
Mr. Rhett went to the foreman and had the men put back on the work, and was loud in his praise of them.
They really were the best men for heavy work in the yard, and when, a few days later, they asked to have several of their friends employed, Mr. Rhett was quite willing to recommend them. As he was very popular in the community, his word was of so much value that they were immediately turned to with their comrades.
Mr. Robinson took no further notice of the matter, but about a week before the launching Peggy came to me and, with many pretty blushes, told me I was about to have a new brother. My father and mother had consented to the marriage and every one was as happy as could be. That is, every one except Mr. Rhett.
The wedding took place the day of the launching of the ship, and Peggy was a proud girl as she stood there on the forward deck and watched a beautiful woman break a bottle of wine over the vessel’s bows. Then a cannon-shot boomed out and the name “Randolph” was cheered again and again. It was a memorable day in our family, and my father came home in such a state my poor mother instantly sent me for the doctor.
Of course, after this event of the launching, all talk was of the war and of what part the frigate—named after the Hon. Peyton Randolph, of Virginia—would take in it.