Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1886-05-06

| was neard ana SIX hundred sailors poured
out Of the vessel upon the upper deck.
They formed themselves around the yes
sells sides in regular lines.
The call of the roll brought response
to every name but one When ssPeter
Featherstonep was called no voice said
ssHere!"
The officers looked at the culprit
silently, as if waiting for his defense.
He stood in the centre of the deck, his
arms folded, still erect and defiant. He
saw that he was trapped and his only
desire was for revenge
Hho is the man who reported meF'
he asked, quietly.
ssJohn Simmons called the lieu
tenant.
GAY, ay, sir" replied young sailor,
stepping forward in front Of mast and
saluting.
Fcatherstone apprehended him:
"Do you say my name is Peter Feath-
erstone2"
81 do"
s'Well, take that, you," and, with the
quickness of the skilled pugiIist, Feath-
erstone struck his messmate three times
in the face. The sailors head struck an
iron band around tho mast and he fell
senseless to the deck. As he fell Feath-
erstone kicked viciously at his head, but
in an instant the offender was seized by
the master OF arms and two marines.
''Put him in irons, yelled Bully Will
son. 'I'll fog the life out of him.
The struggling sailor was manacled
hand and foot and thrown into that iron
barred cage between the lower decks
which the sailors call ''the rum" Here
he was guarded as is murderer during
his last hours. A sentry, like death
watch, paced continually before the
cage.
Day by day the sailor awoke to antici-
pate his impending punishment, but it
did not come. He grew restless and i'm
patient of restraint as the days passed.
He longed for the mental relief which
would follow his punishment. He did
not dread the physical pain. His back
had felt the lash.
He did not know that there was then
pending in the Congaess Of the United
States bill for law to save him from
the whip. He did not know that he was
being kept by his commander to be
offered up as the last sacrifice on the altar
of the sscat-o-nine- tails, in the event Of
that instrument Of torture being abolished
from the navy.
One morning, nine weeks after Peter
Featherstone had struck his messmate on
the deck, he was aroused by the guard
and told that he was to be fiogged. His
irons were removed and he walked
quickly to the third deck. The entire
crew Of the North Carolina had been
summoned to witness the fogging. The
marines presented fixed bayonets. Com
modore Wilson and the boatswain, armed
with the cat, stood near gun carriage,
which formed the whipping stocks.
Peter Featherstone was well acquainted
with the method of fogging sailors on
board ship. He walked to the gun car
riage, and with quick motion pulled
his blue shirt over his head. He threw
it at the feet Of the officer and exclaimed:
''Now, I'm ready"
s'Not SO fastl thundered the Commo-
dore. ''Wait till you get orders. Put
on your shirt"
The sailor obeyed. Then the officer
read from paper the charge: assault
ing a seaman and attempted escape, " and
asked if the prisoner had anything to
say.
In reply, the sailor again pulled off his
shirt and approached the carriage. The
boatswain lashed the culprit's feet to the
timbers of the carriage and his hands to
the hammock hook above.
At nod from the officer the baatswain
raised his arm, and once, twice, and
again the nine thongs fell upon the white
flesh with cruel "swish At the first
blow the muscles of the sailors back in
voluntarily contracted and his shoulders
slightly shrugged. Then his head fell
forward, his teeth set and his breath
came fast.
But the boatswain had admired the
pluck Of the young sailor, and his arm,
respondent to his sympathy, seemed to
lose its usual strength. The blows, severe
as they were, did not satisfy the com
mander. At the third lash he cried,
sStopn Then, glaring at the boatswain,
he said:
s'If you don't do your duty by that
man will find man aboard who will
do it by you"
The sailor turned his face defantly
tn the boatswain and cried:
Lay onl You can't hurt me-"
The boatswain understood his superior
officer and was nettled by the boasting
tone of the culprit. He piled the cruel
'scatr as he never had before. The blood
spurted from the lacerated back; the
perspiration streamed from the sailors
face; he gasped for breath, but he ut
tered no cry, and when the whipping
ceased his knees trembled and his arms
seemed to support his body.
He was released, He leaned against
the gun carriage for support; but he was
not conquered. He still looked defiance
at the officer.
tsHow do YOU like tbat2, a ked Bully