Hurricane Hurry

by William Henry Giles Kingston

I thought that there was more of mock humility than of respect in his manner, though. I delivered the message the captain had given me.

“Certainly, sir, certainly,” replied my friend, smiling: “the arguments you use are incontrovertible under our present circumstances. I doubt not that they will make all the inhabitants of this place true and faithful servants of King George.”

I was rather amused than offended with his manner, and was pleased that I had to deal with a gentleman instead of a lout.

“Do not let us weigh the force of the arguments, sir,” I replied. “I shall be perfectly satisfied if I have your word that you will not allow any attempt to be made to molest our watering party, and will collect for us any provisions we require.”

I gave him a list the purser had supplied me with.

“All your demands shall be complied with. You have my word for it, sir,” said he, bowing as before.

This matter being settled, I pulled back to the ship. The watering place was some little way from the town. The signal was made for the boats to take the watering party on shore. It was considered necessary at the same time, as a precautionary measure, to send a strong body of men on shore to protect the others, and, accordingly, a hundred marines and two hundred seamen from the three ships were told off for that purpose. We certainly had rather a warlike than a peaceable aspect as the squadron of boats made for the shore.

We were met, as we landed, by our friend the mayor with a flag of truce. He came to inquire why we approached in so warlike a guise. Mr Willis, who commanded the party, replied that, while we did not wish to injure others, we always liked to be in a position to take care of ourselves. Satisfied with this answer the mayor took his departure. A wood was before us. A succession of sandy hummocks were between it and the shore. Among them we made our bivouac. The spring from which we were to fill our casks was on the borders of the wood.

According to rule, as we were in an enemy’s country, we placed the usual lines of sentries, while the seamen, as rapidly as they could, filled the casks and rolled them down to the boats. At night we were compelled to knock off work, so we lighted our camp-fires and made ourselves as comfortable as circumstances would allow. Delisle, Drew, Nicholas and some midshipmen of the other ships were seated with me on the ground, in the neighbourhood of a fire, more that we might have its light than its warmth, and superintend the cooking of some steaks which we had resolved to have for supper. Tom Rockets was acting under our orders, and boiling the kettle to brew some punch. We were a very jolly party. Several of us had not met since we used to assemble on board my prize at New York in the winter, and we had had a good deal of knocking about since then. Many a tale was told, and many a jovial song and not a few sentimental ditties were sung, echoed by the seamen who sat grouped about. Thus hour after hour passed by, and we felt no inclination to lie down. I dare say we looked very picturesque as the light of the fires fell on us: the seamen scattered about in every easy attitude; the piled arms of the marines; the men themselves so different to the sailors; the bayonets of the sentries in the distance; the yellow sand-hills; the sea, calm and solemn, flashing every now and then with phosphorescent light; and then overhead the dark mysterious vault of heaven, studded with stars innumerable, all speaking of the might, the majesty, the power unbounded of the Creator. One by one my messmates dropped off to sleep. I lay on my back for some time contemplating the magnificent spectacle. I had often gazed on the stars before. I had taken the altitudes of many; I had measured the distance of one from the other; I had steered my course by them over the ocean; but then I had looked on them only as useful appendages to our globe. Now, as I gazed, they seemed to float—beauteous globes in the pure ether, altogether independent of the puny world we call our own. How far more pure and brilliant did they appear than in the misty clime of old England! I began to envy the Americans the advantage they possess over us.

My meditations were rudely and suddenly interrupted by the sharp rattle of musketry, and a quick succession of reports in return. Every man in an instant was on his feet. All flew to their arms and hurried to the front. The rattle of musketry increased, and the bullets came flying about our ears, while our advanced sentries retreated rapidly in on the main body—I might have said they ran as fast as their heels could carry them—shouting out that the enemy in strong force were pressing hard upon us. Mr Willis formed the marines in the centre, with the blue-jackets as flanking parties in readiness to receive the enemy. We had not long to wait before their dark forms in dense masses could be seen climbing over the sand-hills, threatening not only our front, but both our flanks.