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- 12159
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:36.274Z
- extracted_by
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- 12135
- text
- to see who they were; when, perceiving an old messmate, who had sailed
with him in many cruises, he burst into tears, and, taking the corpse
up in his arms, and going with it to the side, held it over the water a
moment, and eying it, cried, “Oh God! Tom!”—“D——n your prayers over
that thing! overboard with it, and down to your gun!” roared a wounded
Lieutenant. The order was obeyed, and the heart-stricken sailor
returned to his post.
Tawney’s recitals were enough to snap this man-of-war world’s sword in
its scabbard. And thinking of all the cruel carnal glory wrought out by
naval heroes in scenes like these, I asked myself whether, indeed, that
was a glorious coffin in which Lord Nelson was entombed—a coffin
presented to him, during life, by Captain Hallowell; it had been dug
out of the main-most of the French line-of-battle ship L’Orient, which,
burning up with British fire, destroyed hundreds of Frenchmen at the
battle of the Nile.
Peace to Lord Nelson where he sleeps in his mouldering mast! but rather
would I be urned in the trunk of some green tree, and even in death
have the vital sap circulating round me, giving of my dead body to the
living foliage that shaded my peaceful tomb.
- title
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