The Bounty: The True Story of the Mutiny on the Bounty (48 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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Yet more remarkable was Graham’s matter-of-fact discussion of the appropriate course of action once Peter was free. He intended to write to Commander Pasley, he told Scott, and to “take his Advice about what is to be done when Mr. Heywood is released . . . my Intention is afterwards to take him to my House in Town, where I think he had better stay till one of the Family calls for him; for he will require a great Deal of Tender Management after all his Sufferings.”
 
This extraordinary discrepancy between the reactions of those who took the news at face value and those close to the events would continue right to the very bitter end of what Graham called “the Business.” And no one, it would appear, took the verdict at more solemn face value than Peter himself. Two days after the conclusion of the trial, Peter wrote Dr. Scott a long letter characterized alternately by naked fear and professed resignation.
 
“The Morning lowers—& all my Hope of
worldly
Joy is fled far from me!” Peter wrote in this letter from the
Hector.
“On Tuesday Morning the 18th Inst. the dreadful Sentence of
Death
was pronounced upon me!” His letter would come as no shock, Peter ventured, as Aaron Graham had already conveyed his melancholy news. It would appear either that Graham had not shared his own sanguine expectations with the unhappy prisoner, or that Peter was not able to bring himself to believe them.
 
“I always like to be prepared for the
Worst,
” Peter would later tell Nessy, “for if the Worst does happen, ’tis then Nothing more than was expected.”
 
And expecting the worse, he had retreated to that spiritual sanctity he had sought during his more melancholy moments on Tahiti. The task at hand, he now told Dr. Scott, and would soon be telling one and all, was to prepare his soul.
 
“I bow my devoted Head, with that Fortitude, Chearfulness, & Resignation, which is the Duty of every Member of the Church of our blessed
Saviour
& Redeemer Christ Jesus! To him alone I now look up for Succour; in full Hope, that perhaps a few days more will open to the View of astonished & fearful Soul, his Kingdom of eternal & incomprehensible Bliss.” But, despite his sternest efforts, his fear and anger briefly, abruptly, surfaced.
 
“I have not been found guilty of the slightest Act of the detestable Crime of Mutiny,” Peter protested, breaking in on his own higher thoughts. “But—am doomed to die!—for not being active in my Endeavours to suppress it—Cou’d the Evidences who appeared on the Court Martial be tried,
they
would also suffer for the same & only Crime of which I have been guilty—But I am to be the Victim!” The memory of Hayward and Hallett’s tears of fear as they had been forced into the boat were bitterly vivid.
 
“But, so far from repining at my Fate—I receive it with a Dreadful kind of Joy, Composure, & Serenity of Mind!” Peter continued, collecting himself, “—well assured that it has pleased God to point me out, as a subject, thro’ which, some greatly useful, tho’ at present unsearchable, Intention of the Divine Attributes, may be carried into Execution, for the future Benefit of my Country.”
 
Carried away, he was working toward a great and improbable crescendo: “Then—why shou’d I repine at being made a Sacrifice for the Good of perhaps Thousands of my Fellow Creatures! forbid it Heaven! Why shou’d I be sorry to leave a World in which I have met with nothing but Misfortunes . . . ?”
 
It would appear that while for Peter the turn of events was devastating and unexpected, for Graham “the Business” was very much under control. Graham may have been relying on a two-pronged approach from the beginning. In the best of all worlds the strangely muted alibi that had been nudged from Cole would have done the trick, but failing this, a pardon could be counted on.
 
On September 22, the minutes of the court-martial were sent to the Admiralty in London. These, with the written verdict, were to accompany the court’s recommendation and to be sent together to the King, currently enjoying the last of his annual outing to Weymouth. Aaron Graham left for London the same day.
 
At this time too Peter screwed up his courage to write directly to Nessy with his doleful news; every person involved in “the Business” steered away from addressing poor Mrs. Heywood, who had all but collapsed with grief. To Dr. Scott, the trusted family friend, he had allowed himself to vent his fear and anger, along with expressions of resignation. But to his sister, Peter made a valiant, gallant effort to appear tranquil and at peace: “[C]onscious of having done my Duty to God & Man, I feel not one Moment’s anxiety on my own Account,” he assured her. But, as he imagined the effect of the news on his family, he briefly cracked, “Oh! my Sister—my Heart yearns, when I picture to myself the Affliction—indescribable! which this melancholy News must have caused in the Mind of my much honored Mother! But—let it be your
peculiar Endeavour
to watch o’er her Grief & mitigate her pain . . . we had only Hope then,” he recalled of the optimistic days immediately before the trial, “& have we not the same now? Certainly endeavour then my Love to cherish that Hope.”
 
Despite Peter’s heartfelt plea that she attend to their mother, it became impossible for Nessy to remain in Douglas. The erratic schedule of the mail packets was driving the household wild, and family and friends were now in agreement that Nessy should go to the mainland, so that at least one member of the family would be in a position to monitor events and be within call of Peter. Amid the flood of delayed mail was a letter from Aaron Graham repeating an offer to play host to Peter’s sister if she wished to come to London. This invitation Nessy now spontaneously accepted.
 
Consequently, only days later, on October 1, while the family was at breakfast, word was brought to the Heywood household that a fishing boat was set to sail from Douglas for Liverpool in half an hour. A glance out the window of the house showed that the weather was bad and the wind contrary; evidently the small boat was hoping to beat a coming storm. Fearful of being isolated once again, Nessy grabbed a few things and raced to the harbor.
 
The subsequent voyage in tempestuous winter seas was to take forty-nine hours of hard sailing in the face of the driving wind. For two nights, Nessy did not sleep. Wrapped in her plaid shawl, she huddled on the vessel’s bare planks and tried only to stave off the piercing, wet cold and the “villainous smells” of the fishing boat.
 
“[L]et me but be bless’d with chearing influence of
Hope,
” she wrote to her mother when she finally arrived in Liverpool, “and I have
spirit
to undertake any thing!” Soaked to the skin by the waves that had broken over her when her boat reached the mouth of the Mersey, Nessy stopped only long enough to meet up with her brother James and dine with family friends; young Henry had already sailed on his next voyage. The same evening, she and James departed by mail coach to London. The following day, as the coach changed horses at Coventry, she dashed off a quick note to her mother, noting that although she had not slept for three days she could “scarcely feel a sensation of Fatigue.”
 
Nessy and James arrived in London at six in the morning of October 5. At the coaching inn, she changed her clothes and took breakfast, and then dispatched her brother with her visiting card to Aaron Graham’s house. Within an hour, James returned in Graham’s coach accompanied by Graham himself, who warmly greeted Nessy. Shortly afterward, the coach deposited the exhausted siblings at Graham’s fine home on Great Russell Street.
 
Mrs. Graham and one of her two daughters were currently in the country. It is not clear at what point during Nessy’s stay Graham’s wife returned. The former Sarah Dawes, Mrs. Graham had pretensions of nobility, being a first cousin of Sir Henry Tempest, a roguish and dissolute baronet with whom both Grahams were very close. But of this lady of the house, Nessy had nothing to report in her frequent letters to the Isle of Man. Of Mr. Graham and his younger daughter, Maria, on the other hand, she could not say enough: “[H]e has a most prepossessing Countenance with Eyes in which are strongly pictured the sympathetic Worth & Goodness of his Heart,” she gushed to her mother. Maria was “a beautiful Girl about my own Size,” of fifteen or sixteen. Most impressive of all, Mr. Graham was full of reports of his conversations with Peter.
 
“I look upon him to be the most amiable young Man that can possibly exist”; so Mr. Graham had told her, Nessy reported proudly to her mother after a long and highly satisfactory discussion about Peter’s situation.
 
“But Sir may I really be sure it
will
be settled to our Satisfaction?” Nessy had implored Graham.
 
“You may indeed Ma’am depend upon it” had been the magistrate’s prompt and gratifying response. “[W]as not this charming?” Nessy concluded to her mother. Her own eyes were heavy with fatigue and it was now after teatime.
 
Two days later, James set out for Portsmouth. Once again, Nessy had been absolutely forbidden to see Peter: “Mr. Graham does not wish it,” Nessy allowed. But the day after her arrival, she wrote her beloved brother directly, telling him that she was in London and anxiously inquiring after how he was faring.
 
“[T]ell me for God’s sake how you are—if your Health shou’d suffer by the dreadful Evils you have borne with such exemplary Fortitude—but I will not—dare not give Way to the Idea of losing you!” poor Nessy almost wailed. Peter’s surprised response came the next day, praising her “little
Bravery
of Spirit” in making the journey and reassuring her of his health—and imploring her “For Gods Sake” to let nothing prompt her to come to see him. To have Nessy’s exalted sentiments unleashed in the dark gun room before the other prisoners and awkward guards was a possibility not even to be imagined.
 
It was the evening of October 7, a Sunday, when one of the guards on the
Hector
informed Peter that a brother of his was waiting in the ward-room, and asked if he “would wish to see him?” Amazed, Peter found himself some minutes later before James. An officer gave the two brothers the privacy of his own cabin for what was Peter’s first sight of any member of his immediate family since he had taken leave of his father in the summer of 1787. The two embraced with great emotion, and James was incautious enough to let fall “some
womanish Tears,
” in Peter’s words, which he suppressed on receiving a “civil Check” from his younger brother. For an hour, the brothers were allowed to meet alone: “the Goodness of the Officers to him is beyond Expression,” James reported to Nessy. Spending the night in Portsmouth, he returned to the
Hector
the following day to enjoy a full eight hours with Peter: “when with me he is suffered to be
without Irons.

 
These visits considerably lightened Peter’s mood, although, as he gently remonstrated with Nessy, he was surprised when James appeared because she “did not mention” in her letter that he was also in London; in her highly strung emotional state, Nessy had edited brother James entirely out of the picture.
 
“I am sure he will do all he can to supply my place,” Nessy wrote to Peter, a little sniffily. The change in Peter’s spirits was already evident from his letters. For her part, while James enjoyed the privileges she would have given her heart for, Nessy reconciled herself to sticking close to the Grahams, scarcely leaving their house except on two occasions to take a turn around the Bloomsbury Park neighborhood. Her “chief Recreation & Happiness,” she told her sister Mary, was “in talking of Peter” with Mr. Graham, or if he was called away on his frequent “particular business,” with young Maria, who was a student of the pianoforte. Nessy had taken a great shine to Maria and was soon contentedly composing poetry for her:
 
 
M
ild as the vernal Breeze which softly blows
A
nd sheds new sweetness on the damask Rose
R
estless softness plays in ev’ry Smile
I
nsinuation void of Art and Guile
A
nd youthful Loveliness our Hearts beguile . . .
 
 
 
In their letters to each other, both Peter and Nessy rarely failed to mention their indebtedness to Mr. Graham’s goodness: “Oh! my lov’d Peter—what a Friend he is!” Nessy exclaimed, again and again. And elsewhere, “he loves you as his own Son.” She was also impatient for Peter to meet her new friend Maria.
 
“[T]ake Care of your Heart my dear Peter when you see her,” Nessy admonished her brother coyly; and one must wonder what passed through the young man’s mind as, shackled in irons, he read these words by the vague, low light of the gun shafts. Peter’s description of his domestic life on Tahiti does not appear to have been highly detailed, and he may have omitted the fact that he and a Tahitian woman had lived as man and wife for nearly a year in his charming mountain cottage. Maria Graham, “fair & rather pale than otherwise,” with her “most interesting Countenance” and “soft
speaking
hazle Eyes & . . . most bewitching gentleness of Manner,” with her petticoats and pianoforte—suffice to say, Peter was never to make mention of Maria Graham.

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