{"id":"01KG8AMETMMKH9AYSAZPAS2Z9J","cid":"bafkreihn34z3e2wmo2gshnbc5hdzhz5y4xqnwp47qeqqidhdbiqebou4e4","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":14022,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:36.278Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG89J19NC56FFGBCM2SWEZZY","start_line":13929,"text":"CHAPTER LXXXVII.\r\nOLD USHANT AT THE GANGWAY.\r\n\r\n\r\nThe rebel beards, headed by old Ushant’s, streaming like a Commodore’s\r\n_bougee_, now stood in silence at the mast.\r\n\r\n“You knew the order!” said the Captain, eyeing them severely; “what\r\ndoes that hair on your chins?”\r\n\r\n“Sir,” said the Captain of the Forecastle, “did old Ushant ever refuse\r\ndoing his duty? did he ever yet miss his muster? But, sir, old Ushant’s\r\nbeard is his own!”\r\n\r\n“What’s that, sir? Master-at-arms, put that man into the brig.”\r\n\r\n“Sir,” said the old man, respectfully, “the three years for which I\r\nshipped are expired; and though I am perhaps bound to work the ship\r\nhome, yet, as matters are, I think my beard might be allowed me. It is\r\nbut a few days, Captain Claret.”\r\n\r\n“Put him into the brig!” cried the Captain; “and now, you old rascals!”\r\nhe added, turning round upon the rest, “I give you fifteen minutes to\r\nhave those beards taken off; if they then remain on your chins, I’ll\r\nflog you—every mother’s son of you—though you were all my own\r\ngod-fathers!”\r\n\r\nThe band of beards went forward, summoned their barbers, and their\r\nglorious pennants were no more. In obedience to orders, they then\r\nparaded themselves at the mast, and, addressing the Captain, said,\r\n“Sir, our _muzzle-lashings_ are cast off!”\r\n\r\nNor is it unworthy of being chronicled, that not a single sailor who\r\ncomplied with the general order but refused to sport the vile\r\n_regulation-whiskers_ prescribed by the Navy Department. No! like\r\nheroes they cried, “Shave me clean! I will not wear a hair, since I\r\ncannot wear all!”\r\n\r\nOn the morrow, after breakfast, Ushant was taken out of irons, and,\r\nwith the master-at-arms on one side and an armed sentry on the other,\r\nwas escorted along the gun-deck and up the ladder to the main-mast.\r\nThere the Captain stood, firm as before. They must have guarded the old\r\nman thus to prevent his escape to the shore, something less than a\r\nthousand miles distant at the time.\r\n\r\n“Well, sir, will you have that beard taken off? you have slept over it\r\na whole night now; what do you say? I don’t want to flog an old man\r\nlike you, Ushant!”\r\n\r\n“My beard is my own, sir!” said the old man, lowly.\r\n\r\n“Will you take it off?”\r\n\r\n“It is mine, sir?” said the old man, tremulously.\r\n\r\n“Rig the gratings?” roared the Captain. “Master-at-arms, strip him!\r\nquarter-masters, seize him up! boatswain’s mates, do your duty!”\r\n\r\nWhile these executioners were employed, the Captain’s excitement had a\r\nlittle time to abate; and when, at last, old Ushant was tied up by the\r\narms and legs and his venerable back was exposed—that back which had\r\nbowed at the guns of the frigate Constitution when she captured the\r\nGuerriere—the Captain seemed to relent.\r\n\r\n“You are a very old man,” he said, “and I am sorry to flog you; but my\r\norders must be obeyed. I will give you one more chance; will you have\r\nthat beard taken off?”\r\n\r\n“Captain Claret,” said the old man, turning round painfully in his\r\nbonds, “you may flog me if you will; but, sir, in this one thing I\r\n_cannot_ obey you.”\r\n\r\n“Lay on! I’ll see his backbone!” roared the Captain in a sudden fury.\r\n\r\n“By Heaven!” thrillingly whispered Jack Chase, who stood by, “it’s only\r\na halter; I’ll strike him!”\r\n\r\n“Better not,” said a top-mate; “it’s death, or worse punishment,\r\nremember.”\r\n\r\n“There goes the lash!” cried Jack. “Look at the old man! By G—-d, I\r\ncan’t stand it! Let me go, men!” and with moist eyes Jack forced his\r\nway to one side.\r\n\r\n“You, boatswain’s mate,” cried the Captain, “you are favouring that\r\nman! Lay on soundly, sir, or I’ll have your own _cat_ laid soundly on\r\nyou.”\r\n\r\nOne, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven,\r\ntwelve lashes were laid on the back of that heroic old man. He only\r\nbowed over his head, and stood as the Dying Gladiator lies.\r\n\r\n“Cut him down,” said the Captain.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJVX0PNEYE6BW3F0KX999","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J19NC56FFGBCM2SWEZZY","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AMETE8NRCY2RCXG708FGC","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:37.716Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:55.370Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}