Newton Forster by Frederick Marryat

"When Britain first at Heaven's command Arose from out the azure main, This was the charter, the charter of the land, And guardian angels sung the strain, -- -- Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the waves, For Britons never shall be _slaves_. "

We left Newton Forster senseless on the pavement leading to the quay at Bristol, floored by a rap on the head from a certain person or persons unknown: he did not, however, remain there long, being hoisted on the shoulders of two stout fellows, dressed in blue jackets and trousers, with heavy clubs in their hands, and a pistol lying _perdu_ between their waistcoats and shirts. These nautical personages tumbled him into the stern-sheets of a boat, as if not at all sorry to rid themselves of his weight; and, in a continued state of insensibility, Newton was hoisted up the side of a cutter which lay at anchor about one hundred yards from the shore.