- end_line
- 5957
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:36.271Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 5920
- text
- to taste it, with a loud and satisfactory smack of his lips, pronounced
it Port!
“Oporto!” cried Mad Jack, “and no mistake!”
But, to the surprise, grief, and consternation of the sailors, an order
now came from the quarter-deck to strike the “strangers down into the
main-hold!” This proceeding occasioned all sorts of censorious
observations upon the Captain, who, of course, had authorised it.
It must be related here that, on the passage out from home, the
Neversink had touched at Madeira; and there, as is often the case with
men-of-war, the Commodore and Captain had laid in a goodly stock of
wines for their own private tables, and the benefit of their foreign
visitors. And although the Commodore was a small, spare man, who
evidently emptied but few glasses, yet Captain Claret was a portly
gentleman, with a crimson face, whose father had fought at the battle
of the Brandywine, and whose brother had commanded the well-known
frigate named in honour of that engagement. And his whole appearance
evinced that Captain Claret himself had fought many Brandywine battles
ashore in honour of his sire’s memory, and commanded in many bloodless
Brandywine actions at sea.
It was therefore with some savour of provocation that the sailors held
forth on the ungenerous conduct of Captain Claret, in stepping in
between them and Providence, as it were, which by this lucky windfall,
they held, seemed bent upon relieving their necessities; while Captain
Claret himself, with an inexhaustible cellar, emptied his Madeira
decanters at his leisure.
But next day all hands were electrified by the old familiar sound—so
long hushed—of the drum rolling to grog.
After that the port was served out twice a day, till all was expended.
- title
- Chunk 2