The Bounty: The True Story of the Mutiny on the Bounty (43 page)
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Authors: Caroline Alexander
Tags: #History, #Europe, #Great Britain, #Military, #Naval
BOOK: The Bounty: The True Story of the Mutiny on the Bounty
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Now, pressed by Heywood himself, Cole’s memory was further jogged.
“As you have said that when I left the Deck to go below, I said something to you but you cannot now recollect what,” Peter prodded, “I would ask you whether it was not that I would go and put some things into a Bag and join you in the Boat?”
“I know it was something about a bag,” Cole allowed uncertainly, “but what I could not tell, I supposed he was going to get some things to come into the Boat.” Afterward, Peter reminded him, orders had been given to one of the sentinels “not to let them come up again. . . . Do you think he meant me as one of them, whoever they were?”
“Yes, I do,” Cole replied. Of the other witnesses summoned, Purcell too stated he had heard Churchill’s command to “keep them below.”
But Peter had given significantly different versions of these events on at least two different occasions: it is probable that these variant details were among the “few particulars” resulting from “the errors of an imperfect recollection” that, as he had told the court, he had mistakenly submitted to Lord Chatham. Both in his letter to his mother from Batavia and in an early draft of his defense, Peter stated that his pivotal decision to quit the
Bounty
had taken place
after
Bligh was already in the boat.
Bounty
had taken place
after
Bligh was already in the boat.
“I was not undeceived in my erroneous Intention till too late which was, after the Captain was in the Launch,” Peter wrote his mother before going on to describe how he had changed his mind.
Similarly, in a more detailed draft of his defense, Peter had written, “[M]y intentions therefore to remain in the Ship were not improper, & I was confirmed in this Opinion by Mr. Bligh’s telling several of the Men (when he was in the launch) who were endeavouring to get into the Boat, ‘for Gods Sake my Lads don’t any more of you come into the Boat, I’ll do you Justice if I ever get Home.’ ”
It is not difficult to see why Aaron Graham edited this last vivid scene out of his lawyerly version of Peter’s defense. The image of Bligh in the perilous boat evoking justice could hardly have helped Peter’s cause. Yet more damning was the clear evidence the scene gave that Peter had been watching at the rail when his captain was forced into the launch. Since Bligh had been the very last person to enter the launch, Peter’s subsequent realization that he should leave the
Bounty
had come at the last possible minute—literally, mere minutes before the launch was cast off. How, then, had he been able to confide his resolution to Cole (“. . . on hearing it suggested that I should be deem’d Guilty if I staid with the Ship, I went down directly, and in passing Mr. Cole told him in a low tone of voice that I would fetch a few necessaries in a Bag and follow him into the Boat . . .”)? How had Cole and Purcell overheard Churchill’s command to “keep them below” if this applied to Heywood and Stewart? Both men had been in the launch for some time, from where, as all testimony had indicated, it had been impossible to hear much of anything (“. . . there was so much Noise and Confusion in the Boat that I could not hear one man from the other,” Fryer had testified).
Bounty
had come at the last possible minute—literally, mere minutes before the launch was cast off. How, then, had he been able to confide his resolution to Cole (“. . . on hearing it suggested that I should be deem’d Guilty if I staid with the Ship, I went down directly, and in passing Mr. Cole told him in a low tone of voice that I would fetch a few necessaries in a Bag and follow him into the Boat . . .”)? How had Cole and Purcell overheard Churchill’s command to “keep them below” if this applied to Heywood and Stewart? Both men had been in the launch for some time, from where, as all testimony had indicated, it had been impossible to hear much of anything (“. . . there was so much Noise and Confusion in the Boat that I could not hear one man from the other,” Fryer had testified).
“Who were the People that forced Mr. Bligh into the Boat?” the court had asked William Cole, when he had been examined as a witness for the prosecution.
“I cannot tell,” Cole had replied, matter-of-factly. “I was in the Boat, I could not see.”
Cole and, to a lesser extent, Purcell seem to have entered Peter’s account rather late in the day. Pasley had found these men to be “favorable,” but had never suggested they had offered anything as welcome as an alibi. One must suspect that the revised details appeared along with Aaron Graham. Was this what had so heartened Pasley and Peter following their respective meetings with this very able adviser?
“I was not undeceived in my erroneous Intention till too late.” This straightforward and, one is tempted to say, even innocent summation was Peter’s most intimate confession.
The last witnesses Peter summoned were from the
Pandora.
Edwards’s treatment of the prisoners, as Peter knew through Pasley, was generally deplored. Accordingly, he had earlier aimed a satisfying barb at this most despised of captains, which had undoubtedly been appreciated by the court: “But tho’ it cannot fail deeply to interest the humanity of this Court and kindle in the breast of every Member of it compassion for my sufferings,” Peter had declaimed, after evoking the “fear and trembling” that had gripped every prisoner as the
Pandora
went down, “yet as it is not relative to the point, and as I cannot for a moment believe that it proceeded from any improper motive on the part of Captain Edwards whose Character in the Navy stands high in estimation both as an Officer and a Man of humanity . . . I shall therefore waive it and say no more upon the Subject.”
Pandora.
Edwards’s treatment of the prisoners, as Peter knew through Pasley, was generally deplored. Accordingly, he had earlier aimed a satisfying barb at this most despised of captains, which had undoubtedly been appreciated by the court: “But tho’ it cannot fail deeply to interest the humanity of this Court and kindle in the breast of every Member of it compassion for my sufferings,” Peter had declaimed, after evoking the “fear and trembling” that had gripped every prisoner as the
Pandora
went down, “yet as it is not relative to the point, and as I cannot for a moment believe that it proceeded from any improper motive on the part of Captain Edwards whose Character in the Navy stands high in estimation both as an Officer and a Man of humanity . . . I shall therefore waive it and say no more upon the Subject.”
Now summoned forth, Edwards, surely discomfitted by his introduction, nonetheless confirmed, in his phlegmatic and noncommittal way, that Peter had voluntarily come on board and had been helpful in relating what had happened to the
Bounty
after the mutiny.
Bounty
after the mutiny.
“I had recourse to his Journals,” Edwards stated, “and he was ready to Answer any Questions that I asked him.”
Similarly, Lieutenant Larkan reported that “Peter Heywood came on board about 2 Hours after the Ship was at Anchor, in a Canoe, and gave himself up to me on the Quarter Deck as one belonging to the ‘Bounty.’ ”
“Mention the Words he made use of?” asked the court, suddenly interested.
“He said, ‘I suppose you know My Story,’ ” Larkan replied.
“Did any Person on board the ‘Pandora’ to your knowledge inform the Prisoner that any of the ‘Bounty’s’ Crew had arrived in England or did he know that Lieutenant Hayward was on board before you took the Prisoner, down to Captain Edwards?” In other words, had the prisoner known the game was up?
“Not to my Knowledge,” was Larkan’s reply.
“[K]nowing from one of the Natives who had been off in a Canoe that our former Messmate Mr. Hayward, now promoted to the rank of Lieut. was aboard, we ask’d for him,” Peter had written to his mother of his first movements on the
Pandora.
Neither Larkan nor Edwards was privy to the fact that there could be few secrets on Tahiti.
Pandora.
Neither Larkan nor Edwards was privy to the fact that there could be few secrets on Tahiti.
Thus concluded Peter’s defense. Mr. Const reappeared one last time to read a summation of the evidence, presented again in Peter’s voice. He had been asleep when the mutiny occurred; he had continued on board longer than he should, it was true, “but it has also been proved I was detained by force”; he had surrendered as soon as he was able.
This concluding statement added one new, audacious and vastly fraudulent claim: that Peter had by the absence of Captain Bligh “been deprived of an Opportunity of laying before the Court much, that would have been at least grateful to my feelings, tho’ I hope not necessary to my defence.” If present, Bligh would “have exculpated me from the least disrespect.”
In stark contrast to Peter’s extravagant defense, Michael Byrn took exactly four sentences to state his innocence. Born in Ireland, and now thirty-three, the
Bounty
’s fiddler was a slight man, slender built and standing five foot six, with pale short hair and pale skin. The adjective most used to describe him, by Bligh and mutineers alike, was “troublesome.” Later events would suggest a fondness for drink. Bligh himself seems to have been unsure of where Byrn had stood, sometimes giving him the benefit of the doubt by referring to him as one of four “deserving of Mercy being detained against their inclinations”; on the other hand, unlike Coleman, Norman and McIntosh, Byrn had been confined in irons for the entire voyage from the Dutch Indies along with those deemed mutineers.
Bounty
’s fiddler was a slight man, slender built and standing five foot six, with pale short hair and pale skin. The adjective most used to describe him, by Bligh and mutineers alike, was “troublesome.” Later events would suggest a fondness for drink. Bligh himself seems to have been unsure of where Byrn had stood, sometimes giving him the benefit of the doubt by referring to him as one of four “deserving of Mercy being detained against their inclinations”; on the other hand, unlike Coleman, Norman and McIntosh, Byrn had been confined in irons for the entire voyage from the Dutch Indies along with those deemed mutineers.
Byrn had gone to sea as an able seaman at nineteen and had served on five naval ships before the
Bounty.
One of the judges of the court-martial was a former shipmate from his first voyage: in 1778, John Inglefield had been second lieutenant of the
Robust
(under Lord Hood’s brother). In a hazardous profession that left many scarred and maimed, Byrn had managed to come through fairly well, if his near blindness is excepted, bearing only one distinguishing mark—a scar on his neck from an old abscess. The fiddler appears to have been one of the few
Bounty
men who was not tattooed.
Bounty.
One of the judges of the court-martial was a former shipmate from his first voyage: in 1778, John Inglefield had been second lieutenant of the
Robust
(under Lord Hood’s brother). In a hazardous profession that left many scarred and maimed, Byrn had managed to come through fairly well, if his near blindness is excepted, bearing only one distinguishing mark—a scar on his neck from an old abscess. The fiddler appears to have been one of the few
Bounty
men who was not tattooed.
Read aloud by the Judge Advocate, Byrn’s defense was unexpectedly eloquent. Understated but with affecting details, it has a polish and tone that is detectable in some of the other defenses, and one is led to suspect a guiding hand—given the legal tone, Stephen Barney, William Muspratt’s lawyer, would be one obvious candidate: “It has pleased the Almighty, amongst the Events of his unsearchable Providence, nearly to deprive me of Sight, which often puts it out of my Power to carry the Intentions of my Mind into Execution,” the Judge Advocate read. The spectacle of the slight man making his way uncertainly to the witness stand served as a poignant accompaniment to these words.
“I make no Doubt but it appears to this Honorable Court that on the 28th. of April 1789 my Intention was, to quit His Majesty’s Ship the ‘Bounty’ with the Officers, and Men who went away, and that the sorrow I expressed at being detained was real and unfeigned.
“I do not know whether I may be able to ascertain the exact Words that were spoken on the Occasion,” he continued, “but some said, ‘We must not part with our Fidler,’ and Charles Churchill threatned to send me to the Shades, If I attempted to quit the Cutter, into which I had gone, for the Purpose of attending Lieut. Bligh.” As the mutiny had gathered its curious momentum, amid the taking up of cutlasses, Christian’s threats and Bligh’s defiant shouting, and the bullying of the armed mutineers, Byrn sat in the abandoned cutter crying out in confusion and fear. An entirely different boat, the larger launch, was being cranked out and he did not appear to know it.
“As to Byrn I do not know what he was crying,” William Cole had stated for the prosecution contemptuously. “I suppose for no other reason he was blind. . . .”
Byrn called upon a solitary witness for his examination. John Fryer, who had been in Byrn’s watch throughout the voyage, was asked to report upon his character, “making Allowance for my want of sight.”
“I have nothing to alledge against him,” Fryer told the court; “he behaved himself in every respect as a very good Man.”
As Fryer was led out, the court shifted in excited anticipation. James Morrison, the boatswain’s mate, was to be next. Sallow-skinned with long black hair, Morrison had already made a powerful impression upon the court. He had, as one watching officer recorded, “stood his own counsel, questioned all the evidences, and in a manner so arranged and pertinent that the spectators waited with impatience for his turn to call on them, and listened with attention and delight during the discussion.”
In Tahiti, Morrison had been the
taio,
or “particular friend,” of Poeno, the local chief of Ha’apape, and so a man of some importance. It was Morrison who had planned and supervised the construction of the
Resolution.
This little craft was much admired by naval men; the energy, resolution and skill required for such a feat admirably set Britons like Morrison apart from the dreamy “Indians” of Tahiti. In later years, Morrison’s reputation would be greatly aided by the sentimental belief that a man who could build his own boat could not be all bad.
taio,
or “particular friend,” of Poeno, the local chief of Ha’apape, and so a man of some importance. It was Morrison who had planned and supervised the construction of the
Resolution.
This little craft was much admired by naval men; the energy, resolution and skill required for such a feat admirably set Britons like Morrison apart from the dreamy “Indians” of Tahiti. In later years, Morrison’s reputation would be greatly aided by the sentimental belief that a man who could build his own boat could not be all bad.
On Tahiti, among other embellishments, Morrison had been tattooed with the Order of the Garter, which now, under the circumstances, suggested either a sardonic sense of humor, or some private and unfathomable twist of patriotism; like Fletcher Christian, George Stewart and Isaac Martin, Morrison also wore a star tattooed under his left breast.
In the great cabin of the
Duke,
Morrison had already revealed a lawyerly gift for driving a hard logical line of argument in his cross-examination of the prosecution’s witnesses. Now he presented the Judge Advocate with his own written defense—undoubtedly disappointing the waiting spectators, who would have preferred to hear the boatswain’s mate deliver this himself. Morrison had scattered his statement with emphatic underlined words and phrases, perhaps drawn for his own satisfaction, perhaps to ensure that Greetham delivered his words with the desirable force of expression: “Conscious of my own Innocence of evry
Article
of the Charge exhibited against me, and
fully
satisfied of my Zeal for His Majesty’s service,” Morrison began, with expected defiance and lack of apology, “I offer the following Narration, in Vindication of
my
Conduct on the 28th, day of April, 1789.
Duke,
Morrison had already revealed a lawyerly gift for driving a hard logical line of argument in his cross-examination of the prosecution’s witnesses. Now he presented the Judge Advocate with his own written defense—undoubtedly disappointing the waiting spectators, who would have preferred to hear the boatswain’s mate deliver this himself. Morrison had scattered his statement with emphatic underlined words and phrases, perhaps drawn for his own satisfaction, perhaps to ensure that Greetham delivered his words with the desirable force of expression: “Conscious of my own Innocence of evry
Article
of the Charge exhibited against me, and
fully
satisfied of my Zeal for His Majesty’s service,” Morrison began, with expected defiance and lack of apology, “I offer the following Narration, in Vindication of
my
Conduct on the 28th, day of April, 1789.
“I was the Boatswain’s Mate of His Majesty’s Ship ‘Bounty.’ ” On the night before the mutiny, Morrison had come on deck for his watch at eight and remained until midnight, taking the conn, or direction of the steering of the ship.
“There was little wind
all
the Watch, and we were
then
Near the Island of Tofoa.”
all
the Watch, and we were
then
Near the Island of Tofoa.”
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