Bab Bab 5 · Volume 5

For some minutes after the cook had left the forecastle, Augustus

abandoned himself to despair, never hoping to leave the berth

alive. He now came to the resolution of acquainting the first of

the men who should come down with my situation, thinking it

better to let me take my chance with the mutineers than perish of

thirst in the hold,—for it had been ten days since I was first

imprisoned, and my jug of water was not a plentiful supply even

for four. As he was thinking on this subject, the idea came all

at once into his head that it might be possible to communicate

with me by the way of the main hold. In any other circumstances,

the difficulty and hazard of the undertaking would have prevented

him from attempting it; but now he had, at all events, little

prospect of life, and consequently little to lose, he bent his

whole mind, therefore, upon the task.

His handcuffs were the first consideration. At first he saw no

method of removing them, and feared that he should thus be

baffled in the very outset; but upon a closer scrutiny he

discovered that the irons could be slipped off and on at

pleasure, with very little effort or inconvenience, merely by

squeezing his hands through them,—this species of manacle being

altogether ineffectual in confining young persons, in whom the

smaller bones readily yield to pressure. He now untied his feet,

and, leaving the cord in such a manner that it could easily be

readjusted in the event of any person’s coming down, proceeded to

examine the bulkhead where it joined the berth. The partition

here was of soft pine board, an inch thick, and he saw that he

should have little trouble in cutting his way through. A voice

was now heard at the forecastle companion-way, and he had just

time to put his right hand into its handcuff (the left had not

been removed) and to draw the rope in a slipknot around his

ankle, when Dirk Peters came below, followed by Tiger, who

immediately leaped into the berth and lay down. The dog had been

brought on board by Augustus, who knew my attachment to the

animal, and thought it would give me pleasure to have him with me

during the voyage. He went up to our house for him immediately

after first taking me into the hold, but did not think of

mentioning the circumstance upon his bringing the watch. Since

the mutiny, Augustus had not seen him before his appearance with

Dirk Peters, and had given him up for lost, supposing him to have

been thrown overboard by some of the malignant villains belonging

to the mate’s gang. It appeared afterward that he had crawled

into a hole beneath a whale-boat, from which, not having room to

turn round, he could not extricate himself. Peters at last let

him out, and, with a species of good feeling which my friend knew

well how to appreciate, had now brought him to him in the

forecastle as a companion, leaving at the same time some salt

junk and potatoes, with a can of water, he then went on deck,

promising to come down with something more to eat on the next

day.

When he had gone, Augustus freed both hands from the manacles and

unfastened his feet. He then turned down the head of the mattress

on which he had been lying, and with his penknife (for the

ruffians had not thought it worth while to search him) commenced

cutting vigorously across one of the partition planks, as closely

as possible to the floor of the berth. He chose to cut here,

because, if suddenly interrupted, he would be able to conceal

what had been done by letting the head of the mattress fall into

its proper position. For the remainder of the day, however, no

disturbance occurred, and by night he had completely divided the

plank. It should here be observed that none of the crew occupied

the forecastle as a sleeping-place, living altogether in the

cabin since the mutiny, drinking the wines and feasting on the

sea-stores of Captain Barnard, and giving no more heed than was

absolutely necessary to the navigation of the brig. These

circumstances proved fortunate both for myself and Augustus; for,

had matters been otherwise, he would have found it impossible to

reach me. As it was, he proceeded with confidence in his design.

It was near daybreak, however, before he completed the second

division of the board (which was about a foot above the first

cut), thus making an aperture quite large enough to admit his

passage through with facility to the main orlop deck. Having got

here, he made his way with but little trouble to the lower main

hatch, although in so doing he had to scramble over tiers of

oil-casks piled nearly as high as the upper deck, there being

barely room enough left for his body. Upon reaching the hatch he

found that Tiger had followed him below, squeezing between two

rows of the casks. It was now too late, however, to attempt

getting to me before dawn, as the chief difficulty lay in passing

through the close stowage in the lower hold. He therefore

resolved to return, and wait till the next night. With this

design, he proceeded to loosen the hatch, so that he might have

as little detention as possible when he should come again. No

sooner had he loosened it than Tiger sprang eagerly to the small

opening produced, snuffed for a moment, and then uttered a long

whine, scratching at the same time, as if anxious to remove the

covering with his paws. There could be no doubt, from his

behaviour, that he was aware of my being in the hold, and

Augustus thought it possible that he would be able to get to me

if he put him down. He now hit upon the expedient of sending the

note, as it was especially desirable that I should make no

attempt at forcing my way out at least under existing

circumstances, and there could be no certainty of his getting to

me himself on the morrow as he intended. After-events proved how

fortunate it was that the idea occurred to him as it did; for,

had it not been for the receipt of the note, I should undoubtedly

have fallen upon some plan, however desperate, of alarming the

crew, and both our lives would most probably have been sacrificed

in consequence.

Having concluded to write, the difficulty was now to procure the

materials for so doing. An old toothpick was soon made into a

pen; and this by means of feeling altogether, for the

between-decks was as dark as pitch. Paper enough was obtained

from the back of a letter—a duplicate of the forged letter from

Mr. Ross. This had been the original draught; but the handwriting

not being sufficiently well imitated, Augustus had written

another, thrusting the first, by good fortune, into his

coat-pocket, where it was now most opportunely discovered. Ink

alone was thus wanting, and a substitute was immediately found

for this by means of a slight incision with the pen-knife on the

back of a finger just above the nail—a copious flow of blood

ensuing, as usual, from wounds in that vicinity. The note was now

written, as well as it could be in the dark and under the

circumstances. It briefly explained that a mutiny had taken

place; that Captain Barnard was set adrift; and that I might

expect immediate relief as far as provisions were concerned, but

must not venture upon making any disturbance. It concluded with

these words: “_I have scrawled this with blood—your life depends

upon lying close._”

This slip of paper being tied upon the dog, he was now put down

the hatchway, and Augustus made the best of his way back to the

forecastle, where he found no reason to believe that any of the

crew had been in his absence. To conceal the hole in the

partition, he drove his knife in just above it, and hung up a

pea-jacket which he found in the berth. His handcuffs were then

replaced, and also the rope around his ankles.

These arrangements were scarcely completed when Dirk Peters came

below, very drunk, but in excellent humour, and bringing with him

my friend’s allowance of provision for the day. This consisted of

a dozen large Irish potatoes roasted, and a pitcher of water. He

sat for some time on a chest by the berth, and talked freely

about the mate and the general concerns of the brig. His

demeanour was exceedingly capricious, and even grotesque. At one

time Augustus was much alarmed by odd conduct. At last, however,

he went on deck, muttering a promise to bring his prisoner a good

dinner on the morrow. During the day two of the crew (harpooners)

came down, accompanied by the cook, all three in nearly the last

stage of intoxication. Like Peters, they made no scruple of

talking unreservedly about their plans. It appeared that they

were much divided among themselves as to their ultimate course,

agreeing in no point, except the attack on the ship from the Cape

Verd Islands, with which they were in hourly expectation of

meeting. As far as could be ascertained, the mutiny had not been

brought about altogether for the sake of booty; a private pique

of the chief mate’s against Captain Barnard having been the main

instigation. There now seemed to be two principal factions among

the crew—one headed by the mate, the other by the cook. The

former party were for seizing the first suitable vessel which

should present itself, and equipping it at some of the West India

Islands for a piratical cruise. The latter division, however,

which was the stronger, and included Dirk Peters among its

partisans, were bent upon pursuing the course originally laid out

for the brig into the South Pacific; there either to take whale,

or act otherwise, as circumstances should suggest. The

representations of Peters, who had frequently visited these

regions, had great weight, apparently, with the mutineers,

wavering, as they were, between half-engendered notions of profit

and pleasure. He dwelt on the world of novelty and amusement to

be found among the innumerable islands of the Pacific, on the

perfect security and freedom from all restraint to be enjoyed,

but, more particularly, on the deliciousness of the climate, on

the abundant means of good living, and on the voluptuous beauty

of the women. As yet, nothing had been absolutely determined

upon; but the pictures of the hybrid line-manager were taking

strong hold upon the ardent imaginations of the seamen, and there

was every possibility that his intentions would be finally

carried into effect.

The three men went away in about an hour, and no one else entered

the forecastle all day. Augustus lay quiet until nearly night. He

then freed himself from the rope and irons, and prepared for his

attempt. A bottle was found in one of the berths, and this he

filled with water from the pitcher left by Peters, storing his

pockets at the same time with cold potatoes. To his great joy he

also came across a lantern, with a small piece of tallow candle

in it. This he could light at any moment, as he had in his

possession a box of phosphorus matches. When it was quite dark,

he got through the hole in the bulkhead, having taken the

precaution to arrange the bedclothes in the berth so as to convey

the idea of a person covered up. When through, he hung up the

pea-jacket on his knife, as before, to conceal the aperture—this

manoeuvre being easily effected, as he did not readjust the piece

of plank taken out until afterward. He was now on the main orlop

deck, and proceeded to make his way, as before, between the upper

deck and the oil-casks to the main hatchway. Having reached this,

he lit the piece of candle, and descended, groping with extreme

difficulty among the compact stowage of the hold. In a few

moments he became alarmed at the insufferable stench and the

closeness of the atmosphere. He could not think it possible that

I had survived my confinement for so long a period breathing so

oppressive an air. He called my name repeatedly, but I made him

no reply, and his apprehensions seemed thus to be confirmed. The

brig was rolling violently, and there was so much noise in

consequence, that it was useless to listen for any weak sound,

such as those of my breathing or snoring. He threw open the

lantern, and held it as high as possible, whenever an opportunity

occurred, in order that, by observing the light, I might, if

alive, be aware that succor was approaching. Still nothing was

heard from me, and the supposition of my death began to assume

the character of certainty. He determined, nevertheless, to force

a passage, if possible, to the box, and at least ascertain beyond

a doubt the truth of his surmises. He pushed on for some time in

a most pitiable state of anxiety, until, at length, he found the

pathway utterly blocked up, and that there was no possibility of

making any farther way by the course in which he had set out.

Overcome now by his feelings, he threw himself among the lumber

in despair, and wept like a child. It was at this period that he

heard the crash occasioned by the bottle which I had thrown down.

Fortunate, indeed, was it that the incident occurred—for, upon

this incident, trivial as it appears, the thread of my destiny

depended. Many years elapsed, however, before I was aware of this

fact. A natural shame and regret for his weakness and indecision

prevented Augustus from confiding to me at once what a more

intimate and unreserved communion afterward induced him to

reveal. Upon finding his further progress in the hold impeded by

obstacles which he could not overcome, he had resolved to abandon

his attempt at reaching me, and return at once to the forecastle.

Before condemning him entirely on this head, the harassing

circumstances which embarrassed him should be taken into

consideration. The night was fast wearing away, and his absence

from the forecastle might be discovered; and indeed would

necessarily be so, if he should fail to get back to the berth by

daybreak. His candle was expiring in the socket, and there would

be the greatest difficulty in retracing his way to the hatchway

in the dark. It must be allowed, too, that he had every good

reason to believe me dead; in which event no benefit could result

to me from his reaching the box, and a world of danger would be

encountered to no purpose by himself. He had repeatedly called,

and I had made him no answer. I had been now eleven days and

nights with no more water than that contained in the jug which he

had left with me—a supply which it was not at all probable I had

hoarded in the beginning of my confinement, as I had every cause

to expect a speedy release. The atmosphere of the hold, too, must

have appeared to him, coming from the comparatively open air of

the steerage, of a nature absolutely poisonous, and by far more

intolerable than it had seemed to me upon my first taking up my

quarters in the box—the hatchways at that time having been

constantly open for many months previous. Add to these

considerations that of the scene of bloodshed and terror so

lately witnessed by my friend; his confinement, privations, and

narrow escapes from death, together with the frail and equivocal

tenure by which he still existed—circumstances all so well

calculated to prostrate every energy of mind—and the reader will

be easily brought, as I have been, to regard his apparent falling

off in friendship and in faith with sentiments rather of sorrow

than of anger.

The crash of the bottle was distinctly heard, yet Augustus was

not sure that it proceeded from the hold. The doubt, however, was

sufficient inducement to persevere. He clambered up nearly to the

orlop deck by means of the stowage, and then, watching for a lull

in the pitchings of the vessel, he called out to me in as loud a

tone as he could command, regardless, for the moment, of being

overheard by the crew. It will be remembered that on this

occasion the voice reached me, but I was so entirely overcome by

violent agitation as to be incapable of reply. Confident, now,

that his worst apprehensions were well founded, he descended,

with a view of getting back to the forecastle without loss of

time. In his haste some small boxes were thrown down, the noise

occasioned by which I heard, as will be recollected. He had made

considerable progress on his return when the fall of the knife

again caused him to hesitate. He retraced his steps immediately,

and, clambering up the stowage a second time, called out my name,

loudly as before, having watched for a lull. This time I found

voice to answer. Overjoyed at discovering me to be still alive,

he now resolved to brave every difficulty and danger in reaching

me. Having extricated himself as quickly as possible from the

labyrinth of lumber by which he was hemmed in, he at length

struck into an opening which promised better, and finally, after

a series of struggles, arrived at the box in a state of utter

exhaustion.

CHAPTER 6

The leading particulars of this narration were all that Augustus

communicated to me while we remained near the box. It was not

until afterward that he entered fully into all the details. He

was apprehensive of being missed, and I was wild with impatience

to leave my detested place of confinement. We resolved to make

our way at once to the hole in the bulkhead, near which I was to

remain for the present, while he went through to reconnoiter. To

leave Tiger in the box was what neither of us could endure to

think of, yet, how to act otherwise was the question. He now

seemed to be perfectly quiet, and we could not even distinguish

the sound of his breathing upon applying our ears closely to the

box. I was convinced that he was dead, and determined to open the

door. We found him lying at full length, apparently in a deep

stupor, yet still alive. No time was to be lost, yet I could not

bring myself to abandon an animal who had now been twice

instrumental in saving my life, without some attempt at

preserving him. We therefore dragged him along with us as well as

we could, although with the greatest difficulty and fatigue;

Augustus, during part of the time, being forced to clamber over

the impediments in our way with the huge dog in his arms—a feat

to which the feebleness of my frame rendered me totally

inadequate. At length we succeeded in reaching the hole, when

Augustus got through, and Tiger was pushed in afterward. All was

found to be safe, and we did not fail to return sincere thanks to

God for our deliverance from the imminent danger we had escaped.

For the present, it was agreed that I should remain near the

opening, through which my companion could readily supply me with

a part of his daily provision, and where I could have the

advantages of breathing an atmosphere comparatively pure.

In explanation of some portions of this narrative, wherein I have

spoken of the stowage of the brig, and which may appear ambiguous

to some of my readers who may have seen a proper or regular

stowage, I must here state that the manner in which this most

important duty had been performed on board the Grampus was a most

shameful piece of neglect on the part of Captain Barnard, who was

by no means as careful or as experienced a seaman as the

hazardous nature of the service on which he was employed would

seem necessarily to demand. A proper stowage cannot be

accomplished in a careless manner, and many most disastrous

accidents, even within the limits of my own experience, have

arisen from neglect or ignorance in this particular. Coasting

vessels, in the frequent hurry and bustle attendant upon taking

in or discharging cargo, are the most liable to mishap from the

want of a proper attention to stowage. The great point is to

allow no possibility of the cargo or ballast shifting position

even in the most violent rollings of the vessel. With this end,

great attention must be paid, not only to the bulk taken in, but

to the nature of the bulk, and whether there be a full or only a

partial cargo. In most kinds of freight the stowage is

accomplished by means of a screw. Thus, in a load of tobacco or

flour, the whole is screwed so tightly into the hold of the

vessel that the barrels or hogsheads, upon discharging, are found

to be completely flattened, and take some time to regain their

original shape. This screwing, however, is resorted to

principally with a view of obtaining more room in the hold; for

in a full load of any such commodities as flour or tobacco, there

can be no danger of any shifting whatever, at least none from

which inconvenience can result. There have been instances,

indeed, where this method of screwing has resulted in the most

lamentable consequences, arising from a cause altogether distinct

from the danger attendant upon a shifting of cargo. A load of

cotton, for example, tightly screwed while in certain conditions,

has been known, through the expansion of its bulk, to rend a

vessel asunder at sea. There can be no doubt either that the same

result would ensue in the case of tobacco, while undergoing its

usual course of fermentation, were it not for the interstices

consequent upon the rotundity of the hogsheads.

It is when a partial cargo is received that danger is chiefly to

be apprehended from shifting, and that precautions should be

always taken to guard against such misfortune. Only those who

have encountered a violent gale of wind, or rather who have

experienced the rolling of a vessel in a sudden calm after the

gale, can form an idea of the tremendous force of the plunges,

and of the consequent terrible impetus given to all loose

articles in the vessel. It is then that the necessity of a

cautious stowage, when there is a partial cargo, becomes obvious.

When lying-to (especially with a small head sail), a vessel which

is not properly modelled in the bows is frequently thrown upon

her beam-ends; this occurring even every fifteen or twenty

minutes upon an average, yet without any serious consequences

resulting, provided there be a proper stowage. If this, however,

has not been strictly attended to, in the first of these heavy

lurches the whole of the cargo tumbles over to the side of the

vessel which lies upon the water, and, being thus prevented from

regaining her equilibrium, as she would otherwise necessarily do,

she is certain to fill in a few seconds and go down. It is not

too much to say that at least one-half of the instances in which

vessels have foundered in heavy gales at sea may be attributed to

a shifting of cargo or of ballast.

When a partial cargo of any kind is taken on board, the whole,

after being first stowed as compactly as may be, should be

covered with a layer of stout shifting-boards, extending

completely across the vessel. Upon these boards strong temporary

stanchions should be erected, reaching to the timbers above, and

thus securing every thing in its place. In cargoes consisting of

grain, or any similar matter, additional precautions are

requisite. A hold filled entirely with grain upon leaving port

will be found not more than three fourths full upon reaching its

destination—this, too, although the freight, when measured bushel

by bushel by the consignee, will overrun by a vast deal (on

account of the swelling of the grain) the quantity consigned.

This result is occasioned by settling during the voyage, and is

the more perceptible in proportion to the roughness of the

weather experienced. If grain loosely thrown in a vessel, then,

is ever so well secured by shifting-boards and stanchions, it

will be liable to shift in a long passage so greatly as to bring

about the most distressing calamities. To prevent these, every

method should be employed before leaving port to settle the cargo

as much as possible; and for this there are many contrivances,

among which may be mentioned the driving of wedges into the

grain. Even after all this is done, and unusual pains taken to

secure the shifting-boards, no seaman who knows what he is about

will feel altogether secure in a gale of any violence with a

cargo of grain on board, and, least of all, with a partial cargo.

Yet there are hundreds of our coasting vessels, and, it is

likely, many more from the ports of Europe, which sail daily with

partial cargoes, even of the most dangerous species, and without

any precaution whatever. The wonder is that no more accidents

occur than do actually happen. A lamentable instance of this

heedlessness occurred to my knowledge in the case of Captain Joel

Rice of the schooner Firefly, which sailed from Richmond,

Virginia, to Madeira, with a cargo of corn, in the year 1825. The

captain had gone many voyages without serious accident, although

he was in the habit of paying no attention whatever to his

stowage, more than to secure it in the ordinary manner. He had

never before sailed with a cargo of grain, and on this occasion

had the corn thrown on board loosely, when it did not much more

than half fill the vessel. For the first portion of the voyage he

met with nothing more than light breezes; but when within a day’s

sail of Madeira there came on a strong gale from the N. N. E.

which forced him to lie-to. He brought the schooner to the wind

under a double-reefed foresail alone, when she rode as well as

any vessel could be expected to do, and shipped not a drop of

water. Toward night the gale somewhat abated, and she rolled with

more unsteadiness than before, but still did very well, until a

heavy lurch threw her upon her beam-ends to starboard. The corn

was then heard to shift bodily, the force of the movement

bursting open the main hatchway. The vessel went down like a

shot. This happened within hail of a small sloop from Madeira,

which picked up one of the crew (the only person saved), and

which rode out the gale in perfect security, as indeed a jolly

boat might have done under proper management.

The stowage on board the Grampus was most clumsily done, if

stowage that could be called which was little better than a

promiscuous huddling together of oil-casks {*1} and ship

furniture. I have already spoken of the condition of articles in

the hold. On the orlop deck there was space enough for my body

(as I have stated) between the oil-casks and the upper deck; a

space was left open around the main hatchway; and several other

large spaces were left in the stowage. Near the hole cut through

the bulkhead by Augustus there was room enough for an entire

cask, and in this space I found myself comfortably situated for

the present.

By the time my friend had got safely into the berth, and

readjusted his handcuffs and the rope, it was broad daylight. We

had made a narrow escape indeed; for scarcely had he arranged all

matters, when the mate came below, with Dirk Peters and the cook.

They talked for some time about the vessel from the Cape Verds,

and seemed to be excessively anxious for her appearance. At

length the cook came to the berth in which Augustus was lying,

and seated himself in it near the head. I could see and hear

every thing from my hiding-place, for the piece cut out had not

been put back, and I was in momentary expectation that the negro

would fall against the pea-jacket, which was hung up to conceal

the aperture, in which case all would have been discovered, and

our lives would, no doubt, have been instantly sacrificed. Our

good fortune prevailed, however; and although he frequently

touched it as the vessel rolled, he never pressed against it

sufficiently to bring about a discovery. The bottom of the jacket

had been carefully fastened to the bulkhead, so that the hole

might not be seen by its swinging to one side. All this time

Tiger was lying in the foot of the berth, and appeared to have

recovered in some measure his faculties, for I could see him

occasionally open his eyes and draw a long breath.

After a few minutes the mate and cook went above, leaving Dirk

Peters behind, who, as soon as they were gone, came and sat

himself down in the place just occupied by the mate. He began to

talk very sociably with Augustus, and we could now see that the

greater part of his apparent intoxication, while the two others

were with him, was a feint. He answered all my companion’s

questions with perfect freedom; told him that he had no doubt of

his father’s having been picked up, as there were no less than

five sail in sight just before sundown on the day he was cut

adrift; and used other language of a consolatory nature, which

occasioned me no less surprise than pleasure. Indeed, I began to

entertain hopes, that through the instrumentality of Peters we

might be finally enabled to regain possession of the brig, and

this idea I mentioned to Augustus as soon as I found an

opportunity. He thought the matter possible, but urged the

necessity of the greatest caution in making the attempt, as the

conduct of the hybrid appeared to be instigated by the most

arbitrary caprice alone; and, indeed, it was difficult to say if

he was at any moment of sound mind. Peters went upon deck in

about an hour, and did not return again until noon, when he

brought Augustus a plentiful supply of junk beef and pudding. Of

this, when we were left alone, I partook heartily, without

returning through the hole. No one else came down into the

forecastle during the day, and at night, I got into Augustus’

berth, where I slept soundly and sweetly until nearly daybreak,

when he awakened me upon hearing a stir upon deck, and I regained

my hiding-place as quickly as possible. When the day was fully

broke, we found that Tiger had recovered his strength almost

entirely, and gave no indications of hydrophobia, drinking a

little water that was offered him with great apparent eagerness.

During the day he regained all his former vigour and appetite.

His strange conduct had been brought on, no doubt, by the

deleterious quality of the air of the hold, and had no connexion

with canine madness. I could not sufficiently rejoice that I had

persisted in bringing him with me from the box. This day was the

thirtieth of June, and the thirteenth since the Grampus made sail

from Nantucket.

On the second of July the mate came below drunk as usual, and in

an excessively good-humor. He came to Augustus’s berth, and,

giving him a slap on the back, asked him if he thought he could

behave himself if he let him loose, and whether he would promise

not to be going into the cabin again. To this, of course, my

friend answered in the affirmative, when the ruffian set him at

liberty, after making him drink from a flask of rum which he drew

from his coat-pocket. Both now went on deck, and I did not see

Augustus for about three hours. He then came below with the good

news that he had obtained permission to go about the brig as he

pleased anywhere forward of the mainmast, and that he had been

ordered to sleep, as usual, in the forecastle. He brought me,

too, a good dinner, and a plentiful supply of water. The brig was

still cruising for the vessel from the Cape Verds, and a sail was

now in sight, which was thought to be the one in question. As the

events of the ensuing eight days were of little importance, and

had no direct bearing upon the main incidents of my narrative, I

will here throw them into the form of a journal, as I do not wish

to omit them altogether.

July 3. Augustus furnished me with three blankets, with which I

contrived a comfortable bed in my hiding-place. No one came

below, except my companion, during the day. Tiger took his

station in the berth just by the aperture, and slept heavily, as

if not yet entirely recovered from the effects of his sickness.

Toward night a flaw of wind struck the brig before sail could be

taken in, and very nearly capsized her. The puff died away

immediately, however, and no damage was done beyond the splitting

of the foretopsail. Dirk Peters treated Augustus all this day

with great kindness and entered into a long conversation with him

respecting the Pacific Ocean, and the islands he had visited in

that region. He asked him whether he would not like to go with

the mutineers on a kind of exploring and pleasure voyage in those

quarters, and said that the men were gradually coming over to the

mate’s views. To this Augustus thought it best to reply that he

would be glad to go on such an adventure, since nothing better

could be done, and that any thing was preferable to a piratical

life.

July 4th. The vessel in sight proved to be a small brig from

Liverpool, and was allowed to pass unmolested. Augustus spent

most of his time on deck, with a view of obtaining all the

information in his power respecting the intentions of the

mutineers. They had frequent and violent quarrels among

themselves, in one of which a harpooner, Jim Bonner, was thrown

overboard. The party of the mate was gaining ground. Jim Bonner

belonged to the cook’s gang, of which Peters was a partisan.

July 5th. About daybreak there came on a stiff breeze from the

west, which at noon freshened into a gale, so that the brig could

carry nothing more than her trysail and foresail. In taking in

the foretopsail, Simms, one of the common hands, and belonging

also to the cook’s gang, fell overboard, being very much in

liquor, and was drowned—no attempt being made to save him. The

whole number of persons on board was now thirteen, to wit: Dirk

Peters; Seymour, the black cook; Jones, Greely, Hartman Rogers

and William Allen, all of the cook’s party; the mate, whose name

I never learned; Absalom Hicks, Wilson, John Hunty Richard

Parker, of the mate’s party;—besides Augustus and myself.

July 6th. The gale lasted all this day, blowing in heavy squalls,

accompanied with rain. The brig took in a good deal of water

through her seams, and one of the pumps was kept continually

going, Augustus being forced to take his turn. Just at twilight a

large ship passed close by us, without having been discovered

until within hail. The ship was supposed to be the one for which

the mutineers were on the lookout. The mate hailed her, but the

reply was drowned in the roaring of the gale. At eleven, a sea

was shipped amidships, which tore away a great portion of the

larboard bulwarks, and did some other slight damage. Toward

morning the weather moderated, and at sunrise there was very

little wind.

July 7th. There was a heavy swell running all this day, during

which the brig, being light, rolled excessively, and many

articles broke loose in the hold, as I could hear distinctly from

my hiding-place. I suffered a great deal from sea-sickness.

Peters had a long conversation this day with Augustus, and told

him that two of his gang, Greely and Allen, had gone over to the

mate, and were resolved to turn pirates. He put several questions

to Augustus which he did not then exactly understand. During a

part of this evening the leak gained upon the vessel; and little

could be done to remedy it, as it was occasioned by the brig's

straining, and taking in the water through her seams. A sail was

thrummed, and got under the bows, which aided us in some measure,

so that we began to gain upon the leak.

July 8th. A light breeze sprang up at sunrise from the eastward,

when the mate headed the brig to the southwest, with the

intention of making some of the West India islands in pursuance

of his piratical designs. No opposition was made by Peters or the

cook—at least none in the hearing of Augustus. All idea of taking

the vessel from the Cape Verds was abandoned. The leak was now

easily kept under by one pump going every three quarters of an

hour. The sail was drawn from beneath the bows. Spoke two small

schooners during the day.

July 9th. Fine weather. All hands employed in repairing bulwarks.

Peters had again a long conversation with Augustus, and spoke

more plainly than he had done heretofore. He said nothing should

induce him to come into the mate’s views, and even hinted his

intention of taking the brig out of his hands. He asked my friend

if he could depend upon his aid in such case, to which Augustus

said, “Yes,” without hesitation. Peters then said he would sound

the others of his party upon the subject, and went away. During

the remainder of the day Augustus had no opportunity of speaking

with him privately.

CHAPTER 7

July 10. Spoke a brig from Rio, bound to Norfolk. Weather hazy,

with a light baffling wind from the eastward. To-day Hartman

Rogers died, having been attacked on the eighth with spasms after

drinking a glass of grog. This man was of the cook’s party, and

one upon whom Peters placed his main reliance. He told Augustus

that he believed the mate had poisoned him, and that he expected,

if he did not be on the look-out, his own turn would come

shortly. There were now only himself, Jones, and the cook

belonging to his own gang—on the other side there were five. He

had spoken to Jones about taking the command from the mate; but

the project having been coolly received, he had been deterred

from pressing the matter any further, or from saying any thing to

the cook. It was well, as it happened, that he was so prudent,

for in the afternoon the cook expressed his determination of

siding with the mate, and went over formally to that party; while

Jones took an opportunity of quarrelling with Peters, and hinted

that he would let the mate know of the plan in agitation. There

was now, evidently, no time to be lost, and Peters expressed his

determination of attempting to take the vessel at all hazards,

provided Augustus would lend him his aid. My friend at once

assured him of his willingness to enter into any plan for that

purpose, and, thinking the opportunity a favourable one, made

known the fact of my being on board. At this the hybrid was not

more astonished than delighted, as he had no reliance whatever

upon Jones, whom he already considered as belonging to the party

of the mate. They went below immediately, when Augustus called to

me by name, and Peters and myself were soon made acquainted. It

was agreed that we should attempt to retake the vessel upon the

first good opportunity, leaving Jones altogether out of our

councils. In the event of success, we were to run the brig into

the first port that offered, and deliver her up. The desertion of

his party had frustrated Peters’ design of going into the

Pacific—an adventure which could not be accomplished without a

crew, and he depended upon either getting acquitted upon trial,

on the score of insanity (which he solemnly avowed had actuated

him in lending his aid to the mutiny), or upon obtaining a

pardon, if found guilty, through the representations of Augustus

and myself. Our deliberations were interrupted for the present by

the cry of, “All hands take in sail,” and Peters and Augustus ran

up on deck.

As usual, the crew were nearly all drunk; and, before sail could

be properly taken in, a violent squall laid the brig on her

beam-ends. By keeping her away, however, she righted, having

shipped a good deal of water. Scarcely was everything secure,

when another squall took the vessel, and immediately afterward

another—no damage being done. There was every appearance of a

gale of wind, which, indeed, shortly came on, with great fury,

from the northward and westward. All was made as snug as

possible, and we laid-to, as usual, under a close-reefed

foresail. As night drew on, the wind increased in violence, with

a remarkably heavy sea. Peters now came into the forecastle with

Augustus, and we resumed our deliberations.

We agreed that no opportunity could be more favourable than the

present for carrying our designs into effect, as an attempt at

such a moment would never be anticipated. As the brig was snugly

laid-to, there would be no necessity of manoeuvring her until

good weather, when, if we succeeded in our attempt, we might

liberate one, or perhaps two of the men, to aid us in taking her

into port. The main difficulty was the great disproportion in our

forces. There were only three of us, and in the cabin there were

nine. All the arms on board, too, were in their possession, with

the exception of a pair of small pistols which Peters had

concealed about his person, and the large seaman’s knife which he

always wore in the waistband of his pantaloons. From certain

indications, too—such, for example, as there being no such thing

as an axe or a handspike lying in their customary places—we began

to fear that the mate had his suspicions, at least in regard to

Peters, and that he would let slip no opportunity of getting rid

of him. It was clear, indeed, that what we should determine to do

could not be done too soon. Still the odds were too much against

us to allow of our proceeding without the greatest caution.

Peters proposed that he should go up on deck, and enter into

conversation with the watch (Allen), when he would be able to

throw him into the sea without trouble, and without making any

disturbance, by seizing a good opportunity, that Augustus and

myself should then come up, and endeavour to provide ourselves

with some kind of weapons from the deck, and that we should then

make a rush together, and secure the companion-way before any

opposition could be offered. I objected to this, because I could

not believe that the mate (who was a cunning fellow in all

matters which did not affect his superstitious prejudices) would

suffer himself to be so easily entrapped. The very fact of there

being a watch on deck at all was sufficient proof that he was

upon the alert,—it not being usual except in vessels where

discipline is most rigidly enforced, to station a watch on deck

when a vessel is lying-to in a gale of wind. As I address myself

principally, if not altogether, to persons who have never been to

sea, it may be as well to state the exact condition of a vessel

under such circumstances. Lying-to, or, in sea-parlance,

“laying-to,” is a measure resorted to for various purposes, and

effected in various manners. In moderate weather it is frequently

done with a view of merely bringing the vessel to a stand-still,

to wait for another vessel or any similar object. If the vessel

which lies-to is under full sail, the manoeuvre is usually

accomplished by throwing round some portion of her sails, so as

to let the wind take them aback, when she becomes stationary. But

we are now speaking of lying-to in a gale of wind. This is done

when the wind is ahead, and too violent to admit of carrying sail

without danger of capsizing; and sometimes even when the wind is

fair, but the sea too heavy for the vessel to be put before it.

If a vessel be suffered to scud before the wind in a very heavy

sea, much damage is usually done her by the shipping of water

over her stern, and sometimes by the violent plunges she makes

forward. This manoeuvre, then, is seldom resorted to in such

case, unless through necessity. When the vessel is in a leaky

condition she is often put before the wind even in the heaviest

seas; for, when lying-to, her seams are sure to be greatly opened

by her violent straining, and it is not so much the case when

scudding. Often, too, it becomes necessary to scud a vessel,

either when the blast is so exceedingly furious as to tear in

pieces the sail which is employed with a view of bringing her

head to the wind, or when, through the false modelling of the

frame or other causes, this main object cannot be effected.

Vessels in a gale of wind are laid-to in different manners,

according to their peculiar construction. Some lie-to best under

a foresail, and this, I believe, is the sail most usually

employed. Large square-rigged vessels have sails for the express

purpose, called storm-staysails. But the jib is occasionally

employed by itself,—sometimes the jib and foresail, or a

double-reefed foresail, and not unfrequently the after-sails, are

made use of. Foretopsails are very often found to answer the

purpose better than any other species of sail. The Grampus was

generally laid-to under a close-reefed foresail.

When a vessel is to be laid-to, her head is brought up to the

wind just so nearly as to fill the sail under which she lies when

hauled flat aft, that is, when brought diagonally across the

vessel. This being done, the bows point within a few degrees of

the direction from which the wind issues, and the windward bow of

course receives the shock of the waves. In this situation a good

vessel will ride out a very heavy gale of wind without shipping a

drop of water, and without any further attention being requisite

on the part of the crew. The helm is usually lashed down, but

this is altogether unnecessary (except on account of the noise it

makes when loose), for the rudder has no effect upon the vessel

when lying-to. Indeed, the helm had far better be left loose than

lashed very fast, for the rudder is apt to be torn off by heavy

seas if there be no room for the helm to play. As long as the

sail holds, a well modelled vessel will maintain her situation,

and ride every sea, as if instinct with life and reason. If the

violence of the wind, however, should tear the sail into pieces

(a feat which it requires a perfect hurricane to accomplish under

ordinary circumstances), there is then imminent danger. The

vessel falls off from the wind, and, coming broadside to the sea,

is completely at its mercy: the only resource in this case is to

put her quietly before the wind, letting her scud until some

other sail can be set. Some vessels will lie-to under no sail

whatever, but such are not to be trusted at sea.

But to return from this digression. It had never been customary

with the mate to have any watch on deck when lying-to in a gale

of wind, and the fact that he had now one, coupled with the

circumstance of the missing axes and handspikes, fully convinced

us that the crew were too well on the watch to be taken by

surprise in the manner Peters had suggested. Something, however,

was to be done, and that with as little delay as practicable, for

there could be no doubt that a suspicion having been once

entertained against Peters, he would be sacrificed upon the

earliest occasion, and one would certainly be either found or

made upon the breaking of the gale.

Augustus now suggested that if Peters could contrive to remove,

under any pretext, the piece of chain-cable which lay over the

trap in the stateroom, we might possibly be able to come upon

them unawares by means of the hold; but a little reflection

convinced us that the vessel rolled and pitched too violently for

any attempt of that nature.

By good fortune I at length hit upon the idea of working upon the

superstitious terrors and guilty conscience of the mate. It will

be remembered that one of the crew, Hartman Rogers, had died

during the morning, having been attacked two days before with

spasms after drinking some spirits and water. Peters had

expressed to us his opinion that this man had been poisoned by

the mate, and for this belief he had reasons, so he said, which

were incontrovertible, but which he could not be prevailed upon

to explain to us—this wayward refusal being only in keeping with

other points of his singular character. But whether or not he had

any better grounds for suspecting the mate than we had ourselves,

we were easily led to fall in with his suspicion, and determined

to act accordingly.

Rogers had died about eleven in the forenoon, in violent

convulsions; and the corpse presented in a few minutes after

death one of the most horrid and loathsome spectacles I ever

remember to have seen. The stomach was swollen immensely, like

that of a man who has been drowned and lain under water for many

weeks. The hands were in the same condition, while the face was

shrunken, shrivelled, and of a chalky whiteness, except where

relieved by two or three glaring red blotches like those

occasioned by the erysipelas: one of these blotches extended

diagonally across the face, completely covering up an eye as if

with a band of red velvet. In this disgusting condition the body

had been brought up from the cabin at noon to be thrown

overboard, when the mate getting a glimpse of it (for he now saw

it for the first time), and being either touched with remorse for

his crime or struck with terror at so horrible a sight, ordered

the men to sew the body up in its hammock, and allow it the usual

rites of sea-burial. Having given these directions, he went

below, as if to avoid any further sight of his victim. While

preparations were making to obey his orders, the gale came on

with great fury, and the design was abandoned for the present.

The corpse, left to itself, was washed into the larboard

scuppers, where it still lay at the time of which I speak,

floundering about with the furious lurches of the brig.

Having arranged our plan, we set about putting it in execution as

speedily as possible. Peters went upon deck, and, as he had

anticipated, was immediately accosted by Allen, who appeared to

be stationed more as a watch upon the forecastle than for any

other purpose. The fate of this villain, however, was speedily

and silently decided; for Peters, approaching him in a careless

manner, as if about to address him, seized him by the throat,

and, before he could utter a single cry, tossed him over the

bulwarks. He then called to us, and we came up. Our first

precaution was to look about for something with which to arm

ourselves, and in doing this we had to proceed with great care,

for it was impossible to stand on deck an instant without holding

fast, and violent seas broke over the vessel at every plunge

forward. It was indispensable, too, that we should be quick in

our operations, for every minute we expected the mate to be up to

set the pumps going, as it was evident the brig must be taking in

water very fast. After searching about for some time, we could

find nothing more fit for our purpose than the two pump-handles,

one of which Augustus took, and I the other. Having secured

these, we stripped off the shirt of the corpse and dropped the

body overboard. Peters and myself then went below, leaving

Augustus to watch upon deck, where he took his station just where

Allen had been placed, and with his back to the cabin

companionway, so that, if any of the mate's gang should come up,

he might suppose it was the watch.

As soon as I got below I commenced disguising myself so as to

represent the corpse of Rogers. The shirt which we had taken from

the body aided us very much, for it was of singular form and

character, and easily recognizable—a kind of smock, which the

deceased wore over his other clothing. It was a blue stockinett,

with large white stripes running across. Having put this on, I

proceeded to equip myself with a false stomach, in imitation of

the horrible deformity of the swollen corpse. This was soon

effected by means of stuffing with some bedclothes. I then gave

the same appearance to my hands by drawing on a pair of white

woollen mittens, and filling them in with any kind of rags that

offered themselves. Peters then arranged my face, first rubbing

it well over with white chalk, and afterward blotching it with

blood, which he took from a cut in his finger. The streak across

the eye was not forgotten and presented a most shocking

appearance.

CHAPTER 8

As I viewed myself in a fragment of looking-glass which hung up

in the cabin, and by the dim light of a kind of battle-lantern, I

was so impressed with a sense of vague awe at my appearance, and

at the recollection of the terrific reality which I was thus

representing, that I was seized with a violent tremour, and could

scarcely summon resolution to go on with my part. It was

necessary, however, to act with decision, and Peters and myself

went upon deck.

We there found everything safe, and, keeping close to the

bulwarks, the three of us crept to the cabin companion-way. It

was only partially closed, precautions having been taken to

prevent its being suddenly pushed to from without, by means of

placing billets of wood on the upper step so as to interfere with

the shutting. We found no difficulty in getting a full view of

the interior of the cabin through the cracks where the hinges

were placed. It now proved to have been very fortunate for us

that we had not attempted to take them by surprise, for they were

evidently on the alert. Only one was asleep, and he lying just at

the foot of the companion-ladder, with a musket by his side. The

rest were seated on several mattresses, which had been taken from

the berths and thrown on the floor. They were engaged in earnest

conversation; and although they had been carousing, as appeared

from two empty jugs, with some tin tumblers which lay about, they

were not as much intoxicated as usual. All had knives, one or two

of them pistols, and a great many muskets were lying in a berth

close at hand.

We listened to their conversation for some time before we could

make up our minds how to act, having as yet resolved on nothing

determinate, except that we would attempt to paralyze their

exertions, when we should attack them, by means of the apparition

of Rogers. They were discussing their piratical plans, in which

all we could hear distinctly was, that they would unite with the

crew of a schooner _Hornet_, and, if possible, get the schooner

herself into their possession preparatory to some attempt on a

large scale, the particulars of which could not be made out by

either of us.

One of the men spoke of Peters, when the mate replied to him in a

low voice which could not be distinguished, and afterward added

more loudly, that “he could not understand his being so much

forward with the captain’s brat in the forecastle, and he thought

the sooner both of them were overboard the better.” To this no

answer was made, but we could easily perceive that the hint was

well received by the whole party, and more particularly by Jones.

At this period I was excessively agitated, the more so as I could

see that neither Augustus nor Peters could determine how to act.

I made up my mind, however, to sell my life as dearly as

possible, and not to suffer myself to be overcome by any feelings

of trepidation.

The tremendous noise made by the roaring of the wind in the

rigging, and the washing of the sea over the deck, prevented us

from hearing what was said, except during momentary lulls. In one

of these, we all distinctly heard the mate tell one of the men to

“go forward, have an eye upon them, for he wanted no such secret

doings on board the brig.” It was well for us that the pitching

of the vessel at this moment was so violent as to prevent this

order from being carried into instant execution. The cook got up

from his mattress to go for us, when a tremendous lurch, which I

thought would carry away the masts, threw him headlong against

one of the larboard stateroom doors, bursting it open, and

creating a good deal of other confusion. Luckily, neither of our

party was thrown from his position, and we had time to make a

precipitate retreat to the forecastle, and arrange a hurried plan

of action before the messenger made his appearance, or rather

before he put his head out of the companion-hatch, for he did not

come on deck. From this station he could not notice the absence

of Allen, and he accordingly bawled out, as if to him, repeating

the orders of the mate. Peters cried out, “Ay, ay,” in a

disguised voice, and the cook immediately went below, without

entertaining a suspicion that all was not right.

My two companions now proceeded boldly aft and down into the

cabin, Peters closing the door after him in the same manner he

had found it. The mate received them with feigned cordiality, and

told Augustus that, since he had behaved himself so well of late,

he might take up his quarters in the cabin and be one of them for

the future. He then poured him out a tumbler half full of rum,

and made him drink it. All this I saw and heard, for I followed

my friends to the cabin as soon as the door was shut, and took up

my old point of observation. I had brought with me the two

pump-handles, one of which I secured near the companion-way, to

be ready for use when required.

I now steadied myself as well as possible so as to have a good

view of all that was passing within, and endeavoured to nerve

myself to the task of descending among the mutineers when Peters

should make a signal to me, as agreed upon. Presently he

contrived to turn the conversation upon the bloody deeds of the

mutiny, and by degrees led the men to talk of the thousand

superstitions which are so universally current among seamen. I

could not make out all that was said, but I could plainly see the

effects of the conversation in the countenances of those present.

The mate was evidently much agitated, and presently, when some

one mentioned the terrific appearance of Rogers’ corpse, I

thought he was upon the point of swooning. Peters now asked him

if he did not think it would be better to have the body thrown

overboard at once as it was too horrible a sight to see it

floundering about in the scuppers. At this the villain absolutely

gasped for breath, and turned his head slowly round upon his

companions, as if imploring some one to go up and perform the

task. No one, however, stirred, and it was quite evident that the

whole party were wound up to the highest pitch of nervous

excitement. Peters now made me the signal. I immediately threw

open the door of the companion-way, and, descending, without

uttering a syllable, stood erect in the midst of the party.

The intense effect produced by this sudden apparition is not at

all to be wondered at when the various circumstances are taken

into consideration. Usually, in cases of a similar nature, there

is left in the mind of the spectator some glimmering of doubt as

to the reality of the vision before his eyes; a degree of hope,

however feeble, that he is the victim of chicanery, and that the

apparition is not actually a visitant from the old world of

shadows. It is not too much to say that such remnants of doubt

have been at the bottom of almost every such visitation, and that

the appalling horror which has sometimes been brought about, is

to be attributed, even in the cases most in point, and where most

suffering has been experienced, more to a kind of anticipative

horror, lest the apparition might possibly be real, than to an

unwavering belief in its reality. But, in the present instance,

it will be seen immediately, that in the minds of the mutineers

there was not even the shadow of a basis upon which to rest a

doubt that the apparition of Rogers was indeed a revivification

of his disgusting corpse, or at least its spiritual image. The

isolated situation of the brig, with its entire inaccessibility

on account of the gale, confined the apparently possible means of

deception within such narrow and definite limits, that they must

have thought themselves enabled to survey them all at a glance.

They had now been at sea twenty-four days, without holding more

than a speaking communication with any vessel whatever. The whole

of the crew, too—at least all whom they had the most remote

reason for suspecting to be on board—were assembled in the cabin,

with the exception of Allen, the watch; and his gigantic stature

(he was six feet six inches high) was too familiar in their eyes

to permit the notion that he was the apparition before them to

enter their minds even for an instant. Add to these

considerations the awe-inspiring nature of the tempest, and that

of the conversation brought about by Peters; the deep impression

which the loathsomeness of the actual corpse had made in the

morning upon the imaginations of the men; the excellence of the

imitation in my person, and the uncertain and wavering light in

which they beheld me, as the glare of the cabin lantern, swinging

violently to and fro, fell dubiously and fitfully upon my figure,

and there will be no reason to wonder that the deception had even

more than the entire effect which we had anticipated. The mate

sprang up from the mattress on which he was lying, and, without

uttering a syllable, fell back, stone dead, upon the cabin floor,

and was hurled to the leeward like a log by a heavy roll of the

brig. Of the remaining seven, there were but three who had at

first any degree of presence of mind. The four others sat for

some time rooted apparently to the floor, the most pitiable

objects of horror and utter despair my eyes ever encountered. The

only opposition we experienced at all was from the cook, John

Hunt, and Richard Parker; but they made but a feeble and

irresolute defence. The two former were shot instantly by Peters,

and I felled Parker with a blow on the head from the pump-handle

which I had brought with me. In the meantime, Augustus seized one

of the muskets lying on the floor and shot another mutineer

Wilson through the breast. There were now but three remaining;

but by this time they had become aroused from their lethargy, and

perhaps began to see that a deception had been practised upon

them, for they fought with great resolution and fury, and, but

for the immense muscular strength of Peters, might have

ultimately got the better of us. These three men were—Jones,

Greely, and Absolom Hicks. Jones had thrown Augustus to the

floor, stabbed him in several places along the right arm, and

would no doubt have soon dispatched him (as neither Peters nor

myself could immediately get rid of our own antagonists), had it

not been for the timely aid of a friend, upon whose assistance

we, surely, had never depended. This friend was no other than

Tiger. With a low growl, he bounded into the cabin, at a most

critical moment for Augustus, and throwing himself upon Jones,

pinned him to the floor in an instant. My friend, however, was

now too much injured to render us any aid whatever, and I was so

encumbered with my disguise that I could do but little. The dog

would not leave his hold upon the throat of Jones—Peters,

nevertheless, was far more than a match for the two men who

remained, and would, no doubt, have dispatched them sooner, had

it not been for the narrow space in which he had to act, and the

tremendous lurches of the vessel. Presently he was enabled to get

hold of a heavy stool, several of which lay about the floor. With

this he beat out the brains of Greely as he was in the act of

discharging a musket at me, and immediately afterward a roll of

the brig throwing him in contact with Hicks, he seized him by the

throat, and, by dint of sheer strength, strangled him

instantaneously. Thus, in far less time than I have taken to tell

it, we found ourselves masters of the brig.

The only person of our opponents who was left alive was Richard

Parker. This man, it will be remembered, I had knocked down with

a blow from the pump-handle at the commencement of the attack. He

now lay motionless by the door of the shattered stateroom; but,

upon Peters touching him with his foot, he spoke, and entreated

for mercy. His head was only slightly cut, and otherwise he had

received no injury, having been merely stunned by the blow. He

now got up, and, for the present, we secured his hands behind his

back. The dog was still growling over Jones; but, upon

examination, we found him completely dead, the blood issuing in a

stream from a deep wound in the throat, inflicted, no doubt, by

the sharp teeth of the animal.

It was now about one o’clock in the morning, and the wind was

still blowing tremendously. The brig evidently laboured much more

than usual, and it became absolutely necessary that something

should be done with a view of easing her in some measure. At

almost every roll to leeward she shipped a sea, several of which

came partially down into the cabin during our scuffle, the

hatchway having been left open by myself when I descended. The

entire range of bulwarks to larboard had been swept away, as well

as the caboose, together with the jollyboat from the counter. The

creaking and working of the mainmast, too, gave indication that

it was nearly sprung. To make room for more stowage in the

afterhold, the heel of this mast had been stepped between decks

(a very reprehensible practice, occasionally resorted to by

ignorant ship-builders), so that it was in imminent danger of

working from its step. But, to crown all our difficulties, we

plummed the well, and found no less than seven feet of water.

Leaving the bodies of the crew lying in the cabin, we got to work

immediately at the pumps—Parker, of course, being set at liberty

to assist us in the labour. Augustus’s arm was bound up as well

as we could effect it, and he did what he could, but that was not

much. However, we found that we could just manage to keep the

leak from gaining upon us by having one pump constantly going. As

there were only four of us, this was severe labour; but we

endeavoured to keep up our spirits, and looked anxiously for

daybreak, when we hoped to lighten the brig by cutting away the

mainmast.

In this manner we passed a night of terrible anxiety and fatigue,

and, when the day at length broke, the gale had neither abated in

the least, nor were there any signs of its abating. We now

dragged the bodies on deck and threw them overboard. Our next

care was to get rid of the mainmast. The necessary preparations

having been made, Peters cut away at the mast (having found axes

in the cabin), while the rest of us stood by the stays and

lanyards. As the brig gave a tremendous lee-lurch, the word was

given to cut away the weather-lanyards, which being done, the

whole mass of wood and rigging plunged into the sea, clear of the

brig, and without doing any material injury. We now found that

the vessel did not labour quite as much as before, but our

situation was still exceedingly precarious, and in spite of the

utmost exertions, we could not gain upon the leak without the aid

of both pumps. The little assistance which Augustus could render

us was not really of any importance. To add to our distress, a

heavy sea, striking the brig to the windward, threw her off

several points from the wind, and, before she could regain her

position, another broke completely over her, and hurled her full

upon her beam-ends. The ballast now shifted in a mass to leeward

(the stowage had been knocking about perfectly at random for some

time), and for a few moments we thought nothing could save us

from capsizing. Presently, however, we partially righted; but the

ballast still retaining its place to larboard, we lay so much

along that it was useless to think of working the pumps, which

indeed we could not have done much longer in any case, as our

hands were entirely raw with the excessive labour we had

undergone, and were bleeding in the most horrible manner.

Contrary to Parker’s advice, we now proceeded to cut away the

foremast, and at length accomplished it after much difficulty,

owing to the position in which we lay. In going overboard the

wreck took with it the bowsprit, and left us a complete hulk.

So far we had had reason to rejoice in the escape of our

longboat, which had received no damage from any of the huge seas

which had come on board. But we had not long to congratulate

ourselves; for the foremast having gone, and, of course, the

foresail with it, by which the brig had been steadied, every sea

now made a complete breach over us, and in five minutes our deck

was swept from stem to stern, the longboat and starboard bulwarks

torn off, and even the windlass shattered into fragments. It was,

indeed, hardly possible for us to be in a more pitiable

condition.

At noon there seemed to be some slight appearance of the gale’s

abating, but in this we were sadly disappointed, for it only

lulled for a few minutes to blow with redoubled fury. About four

in the afternoon it was utterly impossible to stand up against

the violence of the blast; and, as the night closed in upon us, I

had not a shadow of hope that the vessel would hold together

until morning.

By midnight we had settled very deep in the water, which was now

up to the orlop deck. The rudder went soon afterward, the sea

which tore it away lifting the after portion of the brig entirely

from the water, against which she thumped in her descent with

such a concussion as would be occasioned by going ashore. We had

all calculated that the rudder would hold its own to the last, as

it was unusually strong, being rigged as I have never seen one

rigged either before or since. Down its main timber there ran a

succession of stout iron hooks, and others in the same manner

down the stern-post. Through these hooks there extended a very

thick wrought-iron rod, the rudder being thus held to the

stern-post and swinging freely on the rod. The tremendous force

of the sea which tore it off may be estimated by the fact, that

the hooks in the stern-post, which ran entirely through it, being

clinched on the inside, were drawn every one of them completely

out of the solid wood.

We had scarcely time to draw breath after the violence of this

shock, when one of the most tremendous waves I had then ever

known broke right on board of us, sweeping the companion-way

clear off, bursting in the hatchways, and filling every inch of

the vessel with water.

CHAPTER 9

Luckily, just before night, all four of us had lashed ourselves

firmly to the fragments of the windlass, lying in this manner as

flat upon the deck as possible. This precaution alone saved us

from destruction. As it was, we were all more or less stunned by

the immense weight of water which tumbled upon us, and which did

not roll from above us until we were nearly exhausted. As soon as

I could recover breath, I called aloud to my companions. Augustus

alone replied, saying: “It is all over with us, and may God have

mercy upon our souls!” By-and-by both the others were enabled to

speak, when they exhorted us to take courage, as there was still

hope; it being impossible, from the nature of the cargo, that the

brig could go down, and there being every chance that the gale

would blow over by the morning. These words inspired me with new

life; for, strange as it may seem, although it was obvious that a

vessel with a cargo of empty oil-casks would not sink, I had been

hitherto so confused in mind as to have overlooked this

consideration altogether; and the danger which I had for some

time regarded as the most imminent was that of foundering. As

hope revived within me, I made use of every opportunity to

strengthen the lashings which held me to the remains of the

windlass, and in this occupation I soon discovered that my

companions were also busy. The night was as dark as it could

possibly be, and the horrible shrieking din and confusion which

surrounded us it is useless to attempt describing. Our deck lay

level with the sea, or rather we were encircled with a towering

ridge of foam, a portion of which swept over us every instant. It

is not too much to say that our heads were not fairly out of the

water more than one second in three. Although we lay close

together, no one of us could see the other, or, indeed, any

portion of the brig itself, upon which we were so tempestuously

hurled about. At intervals we called one to the other, thus

endeavouring to keep alive hope, and render consolation and

encouragement to such of us as stood most in need of it. The

feeble condition of Augustus made him an object of solicitude

with us all; and as, from the lacerated condition of his right

arm, it must have been impossible for him to secure his lashings

with any degree of firmness, we were in momentary expectation of

finding that he had gone overboard—yet to render him aid was a

thing altogether out of the question. Fortunately, his station

was more secure than that of any of the rest of us; for the upper

part of his body lying just beneath a portion of the shattered

windlass, the seas, as they tumbled in upon him, were greatly

broken in their violence. In any other situation than this (into

which he had been accidentally thrown after having lashed himself

in a very exposed spot) he must inevitably have perished before

morning. Owing to the brig’s lying so much along, we were all

less liable to be washed off than otherwise would have been the

case. The heel, as I have before stated, was to larboard, about

one half of the deck being constantly under water. The seas,

therefore, which struck us to starboard were much broken, by the

vessel’s side, only reaching us in fragments as we lay flat on

our faces; while those which came from larboard being what are

called back-water seas, and obtaining little hold upon us on

account of our posture, had not sufficient force to drag us from

our fastenings.

In this frightful situation we lay until the day broke so as to

show us more fully the horrors which surrounded us. The brig was

a mere log, rolling about at the mercy of every wave; the gale

was upon the increase, if any thing, blowing indeed a complete

hurricane, and there appeared to us no earthly prospect of

deliverance. For several hours we held on in silence, expecting

every moment that our lashings would either give way, that the

remains of the windlass would go by the board, or that some of

the huge seas, which roared in every direction around us and

above us, would drive the hulk so far beneath the water that we

should be drowned before it could regain the surface. By the

mercy of God, however, we were preserved from these imminent

dangers, and about midday were cheered by the light of the

blessed sun. Shortly afterward we could perceive a sensible

diminution in the force of the wind, when, now for the first time

since the latter part of the evening before, Augustus spoke,

asking Peters, who lay closest to him, if he thought there was

any possibility of our being saved. As no reply was at first made

to this question, we all concluded that the hybrid had been

drowned where he lay; but presently, to our great joy, he spoke,

although very feebly, saying that he was in great pain, being so

cut by the tightness of his lashings across the stomach, that he

must either find means of loosening them or perish, as it was

impossible that he could endure his misery much longer. This

occasioned us great distress, as it was altogether useless to

think of aiding him in any manner while the sea continued washing

over us as it did. We exhorted him to bear his sufferings with

fortitude, and promised to seize the first opportunity which

should offer itself to relieve him. He replied that it would soon

be too late; that it would be all over with him before we could

help him; and then, after moaning for some minutes, lay silent,

when we concluded that he had perished.

As the evening drew on, the sea had fallen so much that scarcely

more than one wave broke over the hulk from windward in the

course of five minutes, and the wind had abated a great deal,

although still blowing a severe gale. I had not heard any of my

companions speak for hours, and now called to Augustus. He

replied, although very feebly, so that I could not distinguish

what he said. I then spoke to Peters and to Parker, neither of

whom returned any answer.

Shortly after this period I fell into a state of partial

insensibility, during which the most pleasing images floated in

my imagination; such as green trees, waving meadows of ripe

grain, processions of dancing girls, troops of cavalry, and other

phantasies. I now remember that, in all which passed before my

mind’s eye, motion was a predominant idea. Thus, I never fancied

any stationary object, such as a house, a mountain, or any thing

of that kind; but windmills, ships, large birds, balloons, people

on horseback, carriages driving furiously, and similar moving

objects, presented themselves in endless succession. When I

recovered from this state, the sun was, as near as I could guess,

an hour high. I had the greatest difficulty in bringing to

recollection the various circumstances connected with my

situation, and for some time remained firmly convinced that I was

still in the hold of the brig, near the box, and that the body of

Parker was that of Tiger.

When I at length completely came to my senses, I found that the

wind blew no more than a moderate breeze, and that the sea was

comparatively calm; so much so that it only washed over the brig

amidships. My left arm had broken loose from its lashings, and

was much cut about the elbow; my right was entirely benumbed, and

the hand and wrist swollen prodigiously by the pressure of the

rope, which had worked from the shoulder downward. I was also in

great pain from another rope which went about my waist, and had

been drawn to an insufferable degree of tightness. Looking round

upon my companions, I saw that Peters still lived, although a

thick line was pulled so forcibly around his loins as to give him

the appearance of being cut nearly in two; as I stirred, he made

a feeble motion to me with his hand, pointing to the rope.

Augustus gave no indication of life whatever, and was bent nearly

double across a splinter of the windlass. Parker spoke to me when

he saw me moving, and asked me if I had not sufficient strength

to release him from his situation, saying that if I would summon

up what spirits I could, and contrive to untie him, we might yet

save our lives; but that otherwise we must all perish. I told him

to take courage, and I would endeavor to free him. Feeling in my

pantaloons’ pocket, I got hold of my penknife, and, after several

ineffectual attempts, at length succeeded in opening it. I then,

with my left hand, managed to free my right from its fastenings,

and afterward cut the other ropes which held me. Upon attempting,

however, to move from my position, I found that my legs failed me

altogether, and that I could not get up; neither could I move my

right arm in any direction. Upon mentioning this to Parker, he

advised me to lie quiet for a few minutes, holding on to the

windlass with my left hand, so as to allow time for the blood to

circulate. Doing this, the numbness presently began to die away

so that I could move first one of my legs, and then the other,

and, shortly afterward I regained the partial use of my right

arm. I now crawled with great caution toward Parker, without

getting on my legs, and soon cut loose all the lashings about

him, when, after a short delay, he also recovered the partial use

of his limbs. We now lost no time in getting loose the rope from

Peters. It had cut a deep gash through the waistband of his

woollen pantaloons, and through two shirts, and made its way into

his groin, from which the blood flowed out copiously as we

removed the cordage. No sooner had we removed it, however, than

he spoke, and seemed to experience instant relief—being able to

move with much greater ease than either Parker or myself—this was

no doubt owing to the discharge of blood.

We had little hopes that Augustus would recover, as he evinced no

signs of life; but, upon getting to him, we discovered that he

had merely swooned from the loss of blood, the bandages we had

placed around his wounded arm having been torn off by the water;

none of the ropes which held him to the windlass were drawn

sufficiently tight to occasion his death. Having relieved him

from the fastenings, and got him clear of the broken wood about

the windlass, we secured him in a dry place to windward, with his

head somewhat lower than his body, and all three of us busied

ourselves in chafing his limbs. In about half an hour he came to

himself, although it was not until the next morning that he gave

signs of recognizing any of us, or had sufficient strength to

speak. By the time we had thus got clear of our lashings it was

quite dark, and it began to cloud up, so that we were again in

the greatest agony lest it should come on to blow hard, in which

event nothing could have saved us from perishing, exhausted as we

were. By good fortune it continued very moderate during the

night, the sea subsiding every minute, which gave us great hopes

of ultimate preservation. A gentle breeze still blew from the N.

W., but the weather was not at all cold. Augustus was lashed

carefully to windward in such a manner as to prevent him from

slipping overboard with the rolls of the vessel, as he was still

too weak to hold on at all. For ourselves there was no such

necessity. We sat close together, supporting each other with the

aid of the broken ropes about the windlass, and devising methods

of escape from our frightful situation. We derived much comfort

from taking off our clothes and wringing the water from them.

When we put them on after this, they felt remarkably warm and

pleasant, and served to invigorate us in no little degree. We

helped Augustus off with his, and wrung them for him, when he

experienced the same comfort.

Our chief sufferings were now those of hunger and thirst, and

when we looked forward to the means of relief in this respect,

our hearts sunk within us, and we were induced to regret that we

had escaped the less dreadful perils of the sea. We endeavoured,

however, to console ourselves with the hope of being speedily

picked up by some vessel and encouraged each other to bear with

fortitude the evils that might happen.

The morning of the fourteenth at length dawned, and the weather

still continued clear and pleasant, with a steady but very light

breeze from the N. W. The sea was now quite smooth, and as, from

some cause which we could not determine, the brig did not lie so

much along as she had done before, the deck was comparatively

dry, and we could move about with freedom. We had now been better

than three entire days and nights without either food or drink,

and it became absolutely necessary that we should make an attempt

to get up something from below. As the brig was completely full

of water, we went to this work despondently, and with but little

expectation of being able to obtain anything. We made a kind of

drag by driving some nails which we broke out from the remains of

the companion-hatch into two pieces of wood. Tying these across

each other, and fastening them to the end of a rope, we threw

them into the cabin, and dragged them to and fro, in the faint

hope of being thus able to entangle some article which might be

of use to us for food, or which might at least render us

assistance in getting it. We spent the greater part of the

morning in this labour without effect, fishing up nothing more

than a few bedclothes, which were readily caught by the nails.

Indeed, our contrivance was so very clumsy that any greater

success was hardly to be anticipated.

We now tried the forecastle, but equally in vain, and were upon

the brink of despair, when Peters proposed that we should fasten

a rope to his body, and let him make an attempt to get up

something by diving into the cabin. This proposition we hailed