The Sea: Its Stirring Story of Adventure, Peril, & Heroism (Vol. 1-4). Frederick Whymper
by the boats. Amongst the drowned were Mr. Stewart, the midshipman, and three others of the Bounty’s people, the whole of whom perished with the manacles on their hands. Thirty-one of the ship’s company were lost. The four boat-loads which escaped had scarcely any provisions on board, the allowance being two wine-glasses of water to each man, and a very small quantity of bread, calculated for sixteen days. Their voyage of 1,000 miles on the open ocean, and the sufferings endured, were similar to those experienced by Bligh’s party, but not so severe. After staying at Coupang for about three weeks, they left on a Dutch East Indiaman, which conveyed them to Samarang, and subsequently Batavia, whence they proceeded to Europe.
After an exhaustive court-martial had been held on the ten prisoners brought home by Captain Edwards, three of the seamen were condemned and executed; Mr. Heywood, the midshipman, the boatswain’s-mate, and the steward were sentenced to death, but afterwards pardoned; four others were tried and acquitted. It will be remembered that four others were drowned at the wreck.
Twenty years had rolled away, and the mutiny of the Bounty was almost forgotten, when Captain Folger, of the American ship Topaz, reported to Sir Sydney Smith, at Valparaiso, that he had discovered the last of the survivors on Pitcairn Island. This fact was transmitted to the Admiralty, and received on May 14th, 1809, but the troublous times prevented any immediate investigation. In 1814, H.M.S. Briton, commanded by Sir Thomas Staines, and the Tagus, Captain Pipon, were cruising in the Pacific, when they fell in with the little known island of Pitcairn. He discovered not merely that it was inhabited, but afterwards, to his great astonishment, that every individual on the island spoke very good English. The little village was composed of neat huts, embowered in luxuriant plantations. “Presently they observed a few natives coming down a steep descent with their canoes on their shoulders, and in a few minutes perceived one of these little vessels dashing through a heavy surf, and paddling off towards the ships; but their astonishment was extreme when, on coming alongside, they were hailed in the English language with ‘Won’t you heave us a rope now?’
“The first young man that sprang with extraordinary alacrity up the side and stood before them on the deck, said, in reply to the question, ‘Who are you?’ that his name was Thursday October Christian, son of the late Fletcher Christian, by an Otaheitan mother; that he was the first born on the island, and that he was so called because he was brought into the world on a Thursday in October. Singularly strange as all this was to Sir Thomas Staines and Captain Pipon, this youth soon satisfied them that he was none other than the person he represented himself to be, and that he was fully acquainted with the whole history of the Bounty; and, in short, the island before them was the retreat of the mutineers of that ship. Young Christian was, at this time, about twenty-four years of age, a fine tall youth, full six feet high, with dark, almost black hair, and a countenance open and extremely interesting. As he wore no clothes, except a piece of cloth round his loins, and a straw hat, ornamented with black cock’s feathers, his fine figure, and well-shaped muscular limbs, were displayed to great advantage, and attracted general admiration. * * * He told them that he was married to a woman much older than himself, one of those that had accompanied his father from Otaheite. His companion was a fine, handsome youth of seventeen or eighteen years of age, of the name of George Young, the son of Young, the midshipman.” In the cabin, when invited to refreshments, one of them astonished the captains by asking the blessing with much appearance of devotion, “For what we are going to receive, the Lord make us truly thankful.” The only surviving Englishman of the crew was John Adams, and when the captains landed through the surf, with no worse result than a good wetting, the old man came down to meet them. Both he and his aged wife were at first considerably alarmed at seeing the king’s uniform, but was reassured when he was told that they had no intention of disturbing him. Adams said that he had no great share in the mutiny, that he was sick at the time, and was afterwards compelled to take a musket. He even expressed his willingness to go to England, but this was strongly opposed by his daughter. “All the women burst into tears, and the young men stood motionless and absorbed in grief; but on their being assured that he should on no account be molested, it is impossible,” says Pipon, “to describe the universal joy that these poor people manifested.”
H.M.S. “BRITON,” AT PITCAIRN ISLAND.
When Christian had arrived at the island, he found no good anchorage, so he ran the Bounty into a small creek against the cliff, in order to get out of her such articles as might be of use. Having stripped her, he set fire to the hull, so that afterwards she should not be seen by passing vessels, and his retreat discovered. It is pretty clear that the misguided young man was never happy after the rash and mutinous step he had taken, and he became sullen, morose, and tyrannical to his companions. He was at length shot by an Otaheitan, and in a short time only two of the mutineers were left alive.
PITCAIRN ISLAND.
The colony at this time comprised forty-six persons, mostly grown-up young people, all of prepossessing appearance. John Adams had made up for any share he may have had in the revolt, by instructing them in religious and moral principles. The girls were modest and bashful, with bright eyes, beautifully white teeth, and every indication of health. They carried baskets of fruit over such roads and down such precipices as were scarcely passable by any creatures except goats, and over which we could scarcely scramble with the help of our hands. When Captain Beechey, in his well-known voyage of discovery on the Blossom, called there in 1825, he found Adams, then in his sixty-fifth year, dressed in a sailor’s shirt and trousers, and with all a sailor’s manners, doffing his hat and smoothing down his bald forehead whenever he was addressed by the officers of the Blossom. Many circumstances connected with the subsequent history of the happy little colony cannot be detailed here. Suffice it to say that it still thrives, and is one of the most model settlements of the whole world, although descended from a stock so bad. Of the nine who landed on Pitcairn’s Island only two died a natural death. Of the original officers and crew of the Bounty more than half perished in various untimely ways, the whole burden of guilt resting on Christian and his fellow-conspirators.
The mutiny just described sinks into insignificance before that which is about to be recounted, the greatest mutiny of English history—that of the Nore. At that one point no less than 40,000 men were concerned, while the disaffection spread to many other stations, some of them far abroad. There can be little doubt that prior to 1797, the year of the event, our sailors had laboured under many grievances, while the navy was full of “pressed” men, a portion of whom were sure to retain a thorough dislike to the service, although so many fought and died bravely for their country. Some of the grievances which the navy suffered were probably the result of careless and negligent legislation, rather than of deliberate injustice, but they were none the less galling on that account. The pay of the sailor had remained unchanged from the reign of Charles II., although the prices of the necessaries and common luxuries of life had greatly risen. His pension had also remained at a stationary rate; that of the soldier had been augmented. On the score of provisions he was worse off than an ordinary pauper. He was in the hands of the purser, whose usual title at that time indicates his unpopularity: he was termed “Nipcheese.” The provisions served were of the worst quality; fourteen instead of sixteen ounces went to the navy pound. The purser of those days was taken from an inferior class of men, and often obtained his position by influence, rather than merit. He generally retired on a competency after a life of deliberate dishonesty towards the defenders of his country, who, had they received everything to which they were entitled, would not have been too well treated, and, as it was, were cheated and robbed, without scruple and without limit. The reader will recall the many naval novels, in which poor Jack’s daily allowance of grog was curtailed by the purveyor’s thumb being put in the pannikin: this was the least of the evils he suffered. In those war times the discipline of the service was specially rigid and severe, and most of this was doubtless necessary. Men were not readily obtained in sufficient numbers; consequently, when in harbour, leave ashore was very constantly refused, for fear of desertions. These and a variety of other grievances, real or fancied, nearly upset the equilibrium of our entire navy. It is not too much to say that not merely England’s