William Clark Russell - John Holdsworth (William Clark Russell) (Literary Thoughts Edition)

There were some murmurs, and then a silence, which Mrs. Ashton broke by bursting into a passion of tears. When she was in some measure calmed, the General said:

“Fellow-passengers, will you unite with me in a prayer to our merciful God for His protection?”

The men took off their hats, but the captain exclaimed:

“General, there are hands for’ard who might like to join us. We should give them the chance.”

Holdsworth went to the forecastle, and presently returned with the whole ship’s company following him. The hands at the pump ceased their work to gather round the capstan, and the passengers attended the skipper in a body to the quarter-deck. The old General stood in the midst of the crowd and knelt—an example followed by the rest.

There was something too sacred in the nature of the extemporaneous prayer offered up by the General to make it proper for me to write it down here; but its effect was deeply impressive. Noble, beyond the power of words to describe, was the spectacle of the fine old American, bare-headed and kneeling, his trembling hands clasped, his kindly, honest face upturned to the skies, breathing forth in broken tones an earnest entreaty that God, in His infinite mercy, would look down upon His servants now and grant them His all-powerful protection in this their hour of danger and suffering. Equally affecting was the spectacle of the men—some with hands clasped before their faces, some kneeling with reverently-bowed heads, some gazing with earnest eyes upon the petitioner, and some even weeping—not unmanly tears—those who wept were among the bravest. The widow knelt with her arms about her child’s neck, in an attitude both shielding and imploring. The husband and wife prayed hand-in-hand.

Overhead shone the joyous sun; the long and polished swell surged against the sluggish vessel’s side; and amidst the tones of the old General and the solemn murmur of those who followed his words, you might hear the gurgling of the water in the hold, and feel the ship’s growing weight and helplessness in the heavy and weary rolls she gave to the movement of the sea.

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