Chapter 18

Let us now return to Pierre Henin. The French pilot-boat had been refused by the surgeon and captain--the long-boat had been put out, through a discussion as to saving the convicts--and it was now nearly six o'clock. At that time Henin went to the beach, stripped himself, took a line, swam naked for about three quarters of an hour or an hour, and arrived at the vessel at a little after seven. On reaching the right side of the vessel, he hailed the crew, and said, "Give me a line to conduct you on land, or you are lost, as the sea is coming in." He spoke English plain enough to be heard. He touched the vessel and told them to speak to the captain. They threw (that is, some of the crew, but not the surgeon or captain) two lines, one from the stern and one from the bow. The one from the stern he could not seize--the one from the bow he did. He then went towards the shore, but the rope was stopped. This was, it is believed, the act of the surgeon and captain. He (Henin) then swam back, and told them to give him more rope to get on shore. The captain and surgeon would not. They then tried to haul him in, but his strength failed and he got on shore.

You perceive, then, that up to this moment also the same obstacle existed in the minds of the captain and surgeon.--They did not dare, without authority, to land the convicts, and rather than leave them on board, or land them without such authority, they perished with them.

The female convicts, who were battened down under the hatches, on the vessel's running aground, broke away the half deck hatch, and frantic, rushed on deck. Of course they entreated the captain and surgeon to let them go on shore in the long-boat, but they were not listened to, as the captain and surgeon did not feel authorized to liberate prisoners committed to their care.

At seven o'clock the flood tide began. The crew seeing that there were no hopes, clung to the rigging. The poor 108 women and 12 children remained on deck, uttering the most piteous cries. The vessel was about three quarters of a mile English from the shore, and no more. Owen, one of the three men saved, thinks that the women remained on deck in this state about an hour and a half. Owen and four others were on the spars, and thinks they remained there three quarters of an hour, but, seeing no hope of being saved, he took to swimming, and was brought in a state of insensibility to the hotel. Towsey, another of the men saved, was on a plank with the captain. Towsey asked who he was? He said "I am the captain," but the next moment he was gone. Rice, the third man, floated ashore on a ladder. He was in the aft when the other men took to the raft. When the French pilot-boat rowed away, after being rejected by the captain, he (Rice) saw a man waving his hat on the beach, and remarked to the captain that a gentleman was waving to them to come on shore. The captain turned away and made no answer.--At that moment the women all disappeared, the ship broke in two.

These are the facts of this awful case. The French Marine Humane Society immediately placed hundreds of men on the beach; and the office, or lodging, being close to the shore, as soon as the corpses were picked up they were brought to the rooms, where I assisted many of my countrymen in endeavoring to restore them to life. Our efforts were fruitless except in the cases of the three men, Owen, Rice and Towsey. I never saw so many fine and beautiful bodies in my life. Some of the women were the most perfectly made; and French and English wept together at such a horrible loss of life in sight of--ay, and even close to, the port and town.--Body after body has been brought in. More than 60 have been found; they will be buried to-morrow. But alas! after all our efforts, only three lives have been saved out of 136.

THE MUTINEERS, A TALE OF THE SEA.

There is scarce any one, we apprehend, who is in any considerable degree conversant with the shifting scenes of human existence, who does not know that many of the plain narratives of common life possess an indescribable charm. These unvarnished details of human weal and human wo, coming right from the mint of nature, decline the superfluous embellishments of art, and, in the absence of all borrowed lustre, clearly demonstrate that they are "adorned the most when unadorned." They bear a most diametrical contrast to those figments of diseased fancy, that nauseating romance about virgins betrothed and lady love, which in so many instances elbow decency and common sense from the pages of our periodical literature as "unwelcome guests."

It has frequently been said that sailors, above every other class of men, have irrepressible hankerings after the wild and wonderful. Certain it is, that he who will sit on a ship's forecastle of a bright moonlight evening, will hear of "hair-breadth escapes," and perilous adventures no less chivalrous and incredible than those which Cervantes and the biographer of Baron Munchausen have attributed to their respective heroes. Although the following incidents may excite no very thrilling interest, they have at least the merit of truth. The actors in this short drama are still on the stage, ready to testify to this narrative of facts.

On the morning of the 14th of April, 1828, the ship Gold Hunter glided majestically out of the Liverpool docks, with fair wind and tide. The Mersey, from Liverpool to Black Rock, a distance of about three miles, was literally covered with vessels of every character and nation, which had taken advantage of the fair wind to clear the harbor. Here might be seen the little French lugger, carrying back to Bordeaux what its fruit and brandy had bought, as frisky in its motions as the nervous monsieur who commanded it. At a little distance, the square-shouldered Antwerper, sitting on the elevated poop of his galliot, was enjoying, with his crew, a glorious smoke. You could almost see them (and that, too, without very keen optics) put care into their tobacco-pipes, anxiety curled in fume over their heads. A not unfrequent sight was the star-spangled banner floating in beauty over the bosom of the wave. The serenity of the atmosphere, the ever-changing brilliancy of the scene, the tout ensemble, were well calculated to excite the most pleasurable emotions. Every thing seemed to give the most flattering assurances of a voyage of unruffled peacefulness.

This large squadron continued comparatively unbroken until it reached Holyhead, where such vessels as were bound for Scotland, or the north of Ireland, bore away from those which were bound down the channel. The Gold Hunter, whose destination was a port in the United States, was, of course, in company with the latter class. Those on board of her very naturally felt great gratification in perceiving that she was not only the most splendid and graceful ship, but the swiftest sailor in sight.

Before we proceed farther, however, we must in some measure acquaint the reader with the inmates of the Gold Hunter. Notwithstanding she was one of those floating palaces yclept "Liverpool packets," and the captain a finished gentleman and skilful navigator, there were, on this trip, but two cabin passengers,--an Irish gentleman (who had a short time before sold his lieutenancy in the British army) and his sister. The former had been engaged in some of England's fiercest battles, and won some of her brightest laurels. The reason which induced him to dispose of his commission, and forsake the hardships and honors of military life, was a desire to visit some near relations, who, at an early period, had emigrated to this country, and who were now enjoying respectability and a competence. It was for this object that Mr. Kelly and his sister had taken passage in the Gold Hunter, at the time of which we are now speaking. It need hardly be said, that they felt towards each other all that deep-toned and romantic affection which in so characteristic a manner pervades Irish relationships.

The captain, who was a man of fine feeling and cultivated intellect, spent most of his leisure moments in their company; and many an evening, when the moon-beams played forth brightly on the rippling water, and the bellying of the canvass seemed to assure them they were hastening to the tender embraces of those they loved, would they sit together on the quarter-deck, while Miss Kelly enhanced the brilliancy of the scene by singing some of those wild, touching melodies which she had learned to warble on her own native hills. Thus, "time trod on flowers," and the incidental privations and inconveniences of a sea voyage were greatly mitigated.

Nothing worthy of special notice occurred until about the 25th of April, when Mr. Kelly, who was walking on the weather side of the main deck, accidentally overheard the following conversation, between three or four of the crew, engaged in caulking the seams just under the lee of the long-boat.

"I tell you, once for all, a cargo of silks and broadcloths aint a-going to do us any good without the ready cash."

"Ready cash! why, man, how many times must I tell you that there is specie on board? the old man has two or three thousand dollars, and Kelly has a bag of sovereigns, or my eyes never saw salt water."--"And the girl," said a third voice, which Mr. Kelly knew to be the steward's--"and the girl did not jingle her bag for nothing the other day, when she walked by me: something there, or my head 's a ball of spun-yarn."

Kelly was transfixed with utter horror and amazement; but fearful lest some one might perceive him, he crouched under the long-boat, which afforded him a partial concealment. In this situation, he listened with breathless anxiety, to the development of their plans, so murderous that his very blood ran cold in his veins.

When the villains came to the blackest, most awful, portions of their scheme, their voices were instinctively hushed into almost a whisper; so that it was only the general outline that Kelly could gather. He found that it was their intention to wait until some dark, dismal night, when they would rush on the captain, himself and sister, and murder them in their beds, rifle them of their money, and take possession of the ship. It was their design to spare the life of the mate, whose services they needed as a navigator. After having done all this, they were to steer directly for the coast of Africa, where they hoped to dispose of the cargo to the negroes. If successful, they expected to carry thence to the West Indies a load of slaves--if not, to abandon the ship entirely, taking with them the specie, and whatever light articles of value they conveniently could. They anticipated no difficulty in introducing themselves into some of the settlements on the coast as shipwrecked mariners; and, as vessels frequently left the settlements for the United States, they supposed they might procure a passage without exciting any suspicion.

Kelly was a man of such imperturbable self-command, that he found no difficulty in repressing every symptom which could indicate his knowledge of the diabolical conspiracy. It was no part of his intention, however, to conceal any thing from Capt. Newton; to the captain, therefore, he made an unreserved disclosure of all that had come to his knowledge. At first they were at a loss what measures to take: one thing they thought of the greatest importance, which was to keep Miss Kelly in entire ignorance of what was transpiring on board. Some uncurbed outbreaking of alarm would be almost certain, such was the excitability of her temperament. This, in their present situation, might be attended with the most disastrous consequences.

The captain determined to eye with particular vigilance the motions of Harmon, who, from the part he took in the conversation alluded to above, appeared to be the ring-leader. Here, in order that the reader may fully understand the narrative, it becomes necessary for us to make a very short digression.

The government of a ship is, in the strictest sense of the term, monarchical, the captain holding undivided and absolute authority. The relation he sustains to the sailor resembles very much that of the master to the slave. Consequently, in order that this relation be not severed by the sailor, even the faintest color of insubordination must be promptly quelled. If any master of a ship suffer a sailor to make an impertinent reply with impunity, he immediately finds his authority prostrate and trampled upon, and his most positive commands pertinaciously disregarded.

The day after that on which Mr. Kelly had communicated the startling intelligence to the captain, was somewhat squally. The latter was standing on the weather side of the quarter-deck, giving directions to the man at the helm (who happened to be Harmon) respecting the steering of the ship:

"Luff! luff! keep her full and by! Mind your weather helm, or she'll be all in the wind. Down with it, or she'll be off! I tell you, if you don't steer the ship better, I'll send you from the helm. You don't keep her within three points of her course either way!"

All this was said, of course, in a pretty authoritative tone, and Harmon impudently replied, "I can steer as well as you, or any other man in the ship."

Capt. Newton's philosophy was completely dashed by this daring answer, and he immediately gave Harmon a blow with his fist, which Harmon as promptly returned sprawling the captain on the deck.

Harmon then deserted the helm, leaving the ship to the mercy of the tempest, and hurried forward to the forecastle, hoping there to intrench himself so firmly as to resist all attacks from without.

The captain, as soon as he could recover from his amazement, went to the cabin door and cried out,

"Mr. Kelly, our lives are in danger--will you assist me, my dear sir, to secure one of my men, that cut-throat Harmon. We must blow up this scheme in the outset, or we are gone."

Kelly had too little coolness in his constitution to stop to discuss the matter, when he knew that the life of a dear sister might depend on the issue. He saw, in a moment, that the conspirators would take courage, unless they were immediately overpowered. He therefore instantly joined Capt. Newton, and they proceeded to the forecastle together.

Threats and commands had not virtue enough to bring Harmon from his hiding-place. Some more effectual expedient must be resorted to. Accordingly, brimstone was introduced into the numerous crevices of the forecastle, and the atmosphere rendered insufferable. Frantic with suffocation, his eyes flashing with rage, he brandished savagely a huge case-knife:--"You, Newton! and you Kelly! I swear that, if I am obliged to leave this forecastle, I'll sheath this knife in your breasts, you infernal tormentors!"

Like the chafed, wounded, maddened bull, which his pursuers have surrounded, and which is drawing close about him his dying strength, for one last furious charge, was Harmon, when Kelly, with most provoking coolness, said, "Harmon, you shall leave that forecastle, or die there."

It soon became evident that he was making preparations to leave: they therefore planted themselves firmly near the gang way through which alone he could possibly come out. Soon he bolted furiously through, making, as he passed, a desperate plunge at Capt. Newton, with his enormous case-knife. Had not Mr. Kelly, at this moment, by a dexterous effort, struck Harmon's arm, one more immortal spirit would have been disencumbered of this "coil of mortality." Instead of this, the villain was disarmed, and his dangerous weapon danced about harmlessly on the top of the waves. Harmon was now powerless; and they found no difficulty in putting irons upon him. During the whole of this contest, his associates did not dare to offer him the least assistance: on the contrary, each stood silently apart, eyeing his neighbor with fear and distrust.

When Mr. Kelly returned to the cabin, he found that his sister had fainted away through terror. Volatile salts, and the assurance that all her future fears would be entirely groundless, had the effect of restoring her very speedily. * * *

On the morning of the 23d May, Charleston light-house was descried from the mast-head. Not a remnant of apprehension lurked behind; every pulse beat gladly; anticipated joys filled every bosom. It was not long before the revenue cutter, from which floats the stripes and the stars, was seen bounding over the billows towards the Gold Hunter. She was soon along side, and, after an interchange of salutations between the vessels, the commander of the revenue cutter boarded the ship. After many inquiries, Capt. Newton requested the United States officer to step into the cabin, where he laid open all the circumstances connected with the abortive conspiracy.

"Capt. Morris," said he, "I shall be obliged to call on you for assistance in bringing these men to punishment."

"Such as I can grant," replied Capt. M., "is at your service; but how shall we proceed?"

"Put the men into irons, and then I consign them to your safe keeping."

These intentions were announced on deck; and if ever consternation and rueful dismay were depicted in human countenances it was in the case of those who had entered into the conspiracy, but who, till now, had supposed that all their plans were enveloped in midnight secrecy. Manacles were put on them all without difficulty, and they soon found themselves securely lodged on board an United States vessel.

At the fall term of the Supreme Court of South Carolina, four men were arraigned on an indictment of "mutiny on the high seas," on board the ship Gold Hunter. The evidence was so conclusive, that all the ingenuity of the prisoner's council, twist itself as it would, could effect nothing. The jury found a verdict of guilty, without leaving their seats. Harmon was sentenced to the penitentiary five years; the others four years each. Thus was a most dangerous indevotion frustrated.

FATE OF SEVEN SAILORS,

WHO WERE LEFT ON THE ISLAND OF ST. MAURICE.

The Dutch who frequented the northern regions during the more favorable season of the year, in pursuit of the whale fishery, became desirous of ascertaining the state of different places while winter prevailed. Various opinions were entertained concerning this subject, and astronomers wished to have their sentiments regarding certain natural phenomena, either realized or controverted. Besides, a more important object was concealed under these ostensible reasons, namely, whether the establishment of permanent colonies in the most remote parts of Greenland was practicable. A proposal was therefore promulgated through the Greenland fleet, for seven seamen to offer to remain a winter in St. Maurice's Island, and also for other seven to winter in Spitzbergen. We are not acquainted with the inducements held forth; but it is probable that little hesitation ensued, for we find a party prepared to winter at the different places specified, nearly about the same period.

Seven of the stoutest and ablest men of the fleet having accordingly agreed to be left behind, their comrades sailed from St. Maurice's Isle on the 26th of August 1633.

The people, two days afterwards, shared half a pound of tobacco, to which they restricted themselves as a weekly allowance. At this time there was no night, and the heat of the sun so powerful through the day, that they pulled off their shirts, and sported on the side of a hill near their abode. Great abundance of sea-gulls frequented the island, and the seamen made a constant practice of seeking for vegetables growing there for salad.

Towards the end of September, the weather began to be tempestuous, and in the earlier part of October, their huts were so much shaken by violent storms of wind, that their nightly rest was interrupted; but they did not resort to firing until the 9th of that month. About a week subsequent, two whales were cast ashore, and the seamen immediately endeavored to kill them with harpoons, lances, and cutlasses, but the tide flowing enabled them to escape.

As winter advanced, bears became so numerous, that the people durst scarce venture abroad from their huts towards night; but in the day time some were occasionally killed, which they roasted. Several of these animals were so strong, however, that they would run off after being shot through. A great many gulls were also seen on the sea-side which retired every night to the mountains, their usual place of retreat.

The first of January 1634, was ushered in with dark and frosty weather; the seamen, after wishing each other a happy new year, and good success in their enterprize, went to prayers. Two bears approached very near their huts, but the darkness of the day, and the depth of the snow, rendered it impossible to take them; not long afterwards the seamen were more successful, and, having shot one, dragged it into a hut, where they skinned it. From the 1st of February these animals became very shy, and were seldom seen.

In the month of March all the people were attacked by scurvy, owing to the scarcity of fresh provisions, and their spirits sunk with the progress of the disease; only two were in health on the 3d of April, while the rest were extremely ill. Two pullets were at their request killed for them, no more being left; and as their appetites were pretty good, the others entertained hopes of their convalescence. The whole seldom left their hut to examine the appearance of the sea, or the surrounding country; but, on the 15th, they observed four whales in a neighboring bay.

The clerk was now very ill, and died on the 16th, whereupon the surviving mariners invoked Heaven to have mercy on his soul, and also on themselves, for they suffered severely. No fresh provisions whatever were left, and they daily grew worse, partly from want of necessary articles, and partly from the excessive cold. Even when in health they could scarce keep themselves in heat by exercise; and when sick, and unable to stir from their huts, that remedy was at an end. Disease made rapid progress among these unfortunate people, so that on the 23d not more than one individual could give an account of the rest, which is done in these words of his journal: "We are by this time reduced to a deplorable state, none of my comrades being able to help himself, much less another; the whole burden, therefore, lies on my shoulders, and I shall perform my duty as well as I am able, so long as it pleases God to give me strength. I am just now about to assist our commander out of his cabin; he thinks it will relieve his pain, for he is struggling with death. The night is dark, and wind blowing from the south."

Meantime the Dutch, who repaired in the summer season to Greenland, became impatient to learn the fate of the seven men left in the Isle of St. Maurice. Some of the seamen got into a boat immediately on their arrival, on the 4th of June 1634, and hastened towards the huts. Yet, from none of the others having come to the sea-side to welcome them, they presaged nothing good; and accordingly found that all the unfortunate men had breathed their last. The first, as has been seen, expired on the 16th of April 1634, and his comrades, having put his body in a coffin, deposited it in one of the huts. The remainder were conjectured to have died about the beginning of May, from a journal kept by them, expressing that, on the 27th of April, they had killed their dog for want of fresh provisions, and from its termination on the last of this month.

Near one of the bodies stood some bread and cheese, on which the mariner had perhaps subsisted immediately preceding his decease; a box of ointment lay beside the cabin of another, with which he had rubbed his teeth and joints, and his arm was still extended towards his mouth. A prayer-book, which he had been reading, also lay near him. Each of the men was found in his own cabin.