The Bounty: The True Story of the Mutiny on the Bounty (24 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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Writing to Bligh some years after the events, Edward Lamb, who had sailed with Bligh and Christian on the
Britannia
’s last voyage as chief mate, back when they were working in the West Indies, made some skeptical observations about Fletcher Christian. “When we got to sea, and I saw your partiality for the young man,” the former mate told Bligh, “I gave him every advice and information in my power, though he went about every point of duty with a degree of indifference, that to me was truly unpleasant; but you were blind to his faults, and had him to dine and sup every other day in the cabin, and treated him like a brother, in giving him every information.”
Britannia
’s last voyage as chief mate, back when they were working in the West Indies, made some skeptical observations about Fletcher Christian. “When we got to sea, and I saw your partiality for the young man,” the former mate told Bligh, “I gave him every advice and information in my power, though he went about every point of duty with a degree of indifference, that to me was truly unpleasant; but you were blind to his faults, and had him to dine and sup every other day in the cabin, and treated him like a brother, in giving him every information.”
All available evidence indicates that this favoritism had continued on the
Bounty.
Of Christian—and of Peter Heywood—Bligh was shortly to write, “These two were objects of my regard and attention . . . for they realy promised as professional Men to be an honor to their Country.” This was high praise from Bligh and suggests that in spite of whatever specific causes of complaint he may have had against the master’s mate, he was not, all in all, dissatisfied with his protégé’s progress. It was then not Bligh who broke with Christian, but Christian who broke with Bligh.
Bounty.
Of Christian—and of Peter Heywood—Bligh was shortly to write, “These two were objects of my regard and attention . . . for they realy promised as professional Men to be an honor to their Country.” This was high praise from Bligh and suggests that in spite of whatever specific causes of complaint he may have had against the master’s mate, he was not, all in all, dissatisfied with his protégé’s progress. It was then not Bligh who broke with Christian, but Christian who broke with Bligh.
Exactly why or precisely when Christian had began to succumb to the pressure of serving under his irascible commander is impossible to ascertain. In reports that would later emerge he was quoted as saying he had been in hell “for weeks past,” “for two weeks,” or in other words, since the
Bounty
left Tahiti. Central to Christian’s state of mind appears to have been the extraordinary idea that Bligh might either break or flog him. Bligh’s log hints darkly at “condign” and “corporal punishment” being in order, so it is not impossible that he made such a threat in one of his passions. But if so, one would expect an event of such blazing significance to be referred to by Morrison or Fryer; or Heywood in his letters; or in testimony in the court-martial; or in later rumored accounts. No such allegation was ever made.
Bounty
left Tahiti. Central to Christian’s state of mind appears to have been the extraordinary idea that Bligh might either break or flog him. Bligh’s log hints darkly at “condign” and “corporal punishment” being in order, so it is not impossible that he made such a threat in one of his passions. But if so, one would expect an event of such blazing significance to be referred to by Morrison or Fryer; or Heywood in his letters; or in testimony in the court-martial; or in later rumored accounts. No such allegation was ever made.
Sixteen months earlier, at the riverside inn with his brother Charles before the
Bounty
sailed, Fletcher Christian had gained a breathtaking insight into how powerless a man could be made, officer or seaman, in the hands of a tyrannical captain, as his brother related all that had happened on the
Middlesex.
Bounty
sailed, Fletcher Christian had gained a breathtaking insight into how powerless a man could be made, officer or seaman, in the hands of a tyrannical captain, as his brother related all that had happened on the
Middlesex.
“His passions were raised against me, to a more violent degree than formerly. Let him speak the truth, and he cannot assign a reasonable cause . . . sent for me, bent me, ordered me to be flogged to death”; so had Fletcher learned one of the men in the
Middlesex
mutiny had protested his treatment. From his impassioned brother, who had leaped into the fray, Fletcher had also learned there was honor in resistance.
Middlesex
mutiny had protested his treatment. From his impassioned brother, who had leaped into the fray, Fletcher had also learned there was honor in resistance.
The fact that Bligh invited Christian to join him on the usual terms of friendship at his table suggests that Bligh himself, for all his passionate language, did not seriously entertain any such thoughts of violence against his master’s mate. “Passionate” was a term that would be used of Bligh throughout his life, even by his supportive relatives. Cook had been passionate too; behind his back his men had referred to his impressive foot-stamping, fist-shaking rages as “
heivas,
” after the exuberant Tahitian dances. The impotence of young officers in the face of their captains’ intemperate rule was, moreover, simply an established fact of naval tradition. “The state of inferior officers in his majesty’s service is a state of vassalage,” an officer of this era had reflected. “[T]hat power of reducing them to sweep the decks, being lodged in the breast of a captain, is often abused through passion or caprice.”
heivas,
” after the exuberant Tahitian dances. The impotence of young officers in the face of their captains’ intemperate rule was, moreover, simply an established fact of naval tradition. “The state of inferior officers in his majesty’s service is a state of vassalage,” an officer of this era had reflected. “[T]hat power of reducing them to sweep the decks, being lodged in the breast of a captain, is often abused through passion or caprice.”
Bligh’s passions were verbal, not physical, and it is unlikely that he was aware of half of what he said. Nonetheless, something had shaken Christian to the core.
“He is subject to violent perspirations, and particularly in his hands, so that he soils any thing he touches,” Bligh would write of Christian, in his description of this apparently well-made, well-looking young man. One may be sure that Christian was sweating now.
By late afternoon of this unpleasant day, Bligh headed the
Bounty
due west, so as to pass to the south of Tofua, and be on course for her jog to the Endeavour Strait; this represented a decisive stage on the homeward voyage, since to turn back, for any reason, would be to sail against the now prevailing easterly wind. The evening passed without incident, and if Bligh was oblivious that some dark and critical line had been crossed in Christian’s mind, it appears everyone else was too. Only in relentless painstaking retrospect would anything be detected amiss.
Bounty
due west, so as to pass to the south of Tofua, and be on course for her jog to the Endeavour Strait; this represented a decisive stage on the homeward voyage, since to turn back, for any reason, would be to sail against the now prevailing easterly wind. The evening passed without incident, and if Bligh was oblivious that some dark and critical line had been crossed in Christian’s mind, it appears everyone else was too. Only in relentless painstaking retrospect would anything be detected amiss.
John Fryer had the first watch of the night, eight P.M. to midnight, and noted with pleasure that at about ten o’clock the weather cleared. About an hour later Bligh came on deck, as was customary, to give Fryer his orders for the night.
“We at that time was upon speaking terms,” Fryer noted.
A welcome breeze had arisen, promising better sailing than had been seen for some days. Both men stood looking out over the ruffled night water and observed the new moon, which Fryer noted would be “lucky for us to come on the coast of New Holland.”
“Yes, Mr. Fryer,” replied Bligh, “it will be very lucky for us.” Shortly afterward, Bligh took his leave and went below.
At midnight, Fryer was relieved by William Peckover, who, according to Fryer, “had a very pleasant watch.”
“[E]very thing very quiet on board,” as Fryer wrote. Four hours later, at four A.M., Peckover in turn was relieved by Fletcher Christian. The
Bounty
was by now some ten leagues south of Tofua.
Bounty
was by now some ten leagues south of Tofua.
After taking leave of Fryer, Bligh had retired to his small and windowless cabin; perhaps he had looked in on the nursery to admire the well-ordered ranks of flourishing plants and the pleasing wake of his ship through the great cabin window. As was his habit, Bligh left his door open and unlocked, so as to be immediately accessible if he were needed. Presumably, he would have fallen asleep by midnight.
He was awoken five hours later, at dawn, by the weight of hands being pressed upon him. In sheer astonishment, he came to his senses to find Fletcher Christian, Charles Churchill, John Mills, the gunner’s mate, and Thomas Burkett, seaman, under arms. Bligh was roughly seized and his hands bound behind his back.
“Murder!” Bligh shouted at the top of his voice, as he was pushed up the stairway in his nightshirt, passing other men, also under arms, stationed outside his cabin door. Once on deck, there was a blur of confused activity, voices shouting, mocking, giving orders, whispering encouragement. Christian was calling for a boat to be lowered; first one was chosen and then another. Some two and a half hours later, the ship’s large launch was in the water, and Christian was giving orders for men to enter it.
Different people made different pleas to Christian. Bligh, tied in his nightshirt and naked from the waist down, was hoarse from shouting. One by one, with small bundles of belongings, the men Christian ordered passed over the side of their ship into the boat below.
John Samuel, the clerk, at considerable personal risk had secured Bligh’s log, commission and the all-important “pursery” books. “All this he did with great resolution, being guarded and Strictly Watched,” wrote Bligh. Nevertheless, fifteen years of charts, surveys and drawings had to be left behind.
Christian, so distracted and in such disarray as to frighten those who looked on him, continued to hold the rope that bound Bligh, and to point a bayonet at his chest.
“[H]e seemed to be plotting instant destruction on himself and everyone,” Bligh would write, “for of all diabolical looking Men he exceeded every possible description.” Hayward and Hallett had been ordered into the boat, while Fryer begged to remain but was sent over the side. But, contrary to all the mutineers’ expectations, other men, with Purcell in the lead, voluntarily filed over the side to join their captain.
The launch measured 23 feet in length; at its widest, it had a breadth of 6 feet 9 inches; its depth was 2 feet 9 inches. Eighteen men were now stowed in her, along with the possessions and supplies they had been able to garner: 150 pounds of bread, 32 pounds of pork, 6 quarts of rum, 6 bottles of wine and 28 gallons of water—enough, under normal circumstances, for some five days.
“Come, Captain Bligh, your Officers and Men are now in the Boat and you must go with them,” Christian said, addressing Bligh with haunting formality.
“When they were forcing me out of the ship, I asked him, if this treatment was a proper return for the many instances he had received of my friendship,” Bligh recorded. He also implored Christian more directly: “Consider Mr. Christian, I have a wife and four children in England, and you have danced my children upon your knee.
“[H]e appeared disturbed at my question, and answered with much emotion, ‘That!—captain Bligh,—that is the thing—I am in hell—I am in hell.’ ”
Christian would later confess to being taken aback by the number of men who of their own volition left the
Bounty.
The launch was by now a fearful sight, so overcrowded that she showed no more than seven inches of freeboard above the calm morning water. Later, a defense made by those who remained on the ship would be that it was evident to all that to join the boat would have been tantamount to suicide. “Something more than fear had possessed them to suffer themselves to be sent away in such a manner without offering to make resistance,” was Christian’s own wondering assessment.
Bounty.
The launch was by now a fearful sight, so overcrowded that she showed no more than seven inches of freeboard above the calm morning water. Later, a defense made by those who remained on the ship would be that it was evident to all that to join the boat would have been tantamount to suicide. “Something more than fear had possessed them to suffer themselves to be sent away in such a manner without offering to make resistance,” was Christian’s own wondering assessment.
Men loyal to Bligh, who had sought to join the launch and been turned away, now called out to Bligh to remember them. In the confusion of those few terrible and incomprehensible hours, many would forget who said what, who stood where, even who stood under arms. Words would be remembered and misremembered, facial expressions recalled with ambiguity. But one incident was graven into the memory of everyone who saw it. With his ashen men crowded into the launch, surrounded by the boundless Pacific, with no charts and little food, their captain addressed the loyalists detained on board. In a voice that carried across what seems to have been a sudden silence, Bligh called out, “Never fear, my lads; I’ll do you justice if ever I reach England!”
RETURN
England, 1790
On the evening of March 13, 1790, moving cautiously through dangerous, foggy weather, a Dutch East Indiaman approached the Isle of Wight. Impatiently peering through the fog, and taking pointed note that the Dutch captain was “very much frightened” by the thick conditions, was Lieutenant William Bligh, a passenger. Catching an Isle of Wight boat, Bligh was in Portsmouth by midnight. The following morning he left by post chaise for London, and by Monday morning the fifteenth, he was at the Admiralty’s door. It was ten and a half months—321 days—since the mutiny on the
Bounty,
and William Bligh had returned to England.
Bounty,
and William Bligh had returned to England.
The story of the extraordinary events in the Pacific, and of Lieutenant Bligh’s 3,618-mile voyage in an overloaded open boat, was immediately the talk of London. In all the centuries of the kingdom’s remarkable naval history, no feat of seamanship was deemed to surpass Bligh’s navigation and command of the
Bounty
’s 23-foot-long launch, and few feats of survival compared with his men’s forty-eight-day ordeal on starvation rations. For months afterward, national and local press carried stories about the
Bounty
and Bligh’s “wonderful escape at sea.”
Bounty
’s 23-foot-long launch, and few feats of survival compared with his men’s forty-eight-day ordeal on starvation rations. For months afterward, national and local press carried stories about the
Bounty
and Bligh’s “wonderful escape at sea.”
“This officer only holds the rank of Lieutenant in our navy,” the
English Chronicle
stated, “and the distresses he has undergone, entitle him to every reward—In navigating his little skiff through so dangerous a sea, his seamanship appears as matchless, as the undertaking seems beyond the verge of probability.”
English Chronicle
stated, “and the distresses he has undergone, entitle him to every reward—In navigating his little skiff through so dangerous a sea, his seamanship appears as matchless, as the undertaking seems beyond the verge of probability.”
Those with keen interest in the story were soon able to look forward to reading Bligh’s remarkable adventure in his own words. Less than two months after his return to England, the imminent publication of Lieutenant Bligh’s “Narrative,” illustrated and with charts, was announced in the London press. In June the book appeared: a slender work of only eighty-eight quarto pages, entitled
A Narrative of the Mutiny, on Board His Majesty’s Ship Bounty
;
and the Subsequent Voyage of Part of the Crew, in the Ship’s Boat, From Tofoa, one of the Friendly Islands, to Timor, a Dutch Settlement in the East Indies.
Taken directly and with little embellishment from Bligh’s log and the notebook he had kept in the launch, this essentially modest work was the first public account of both his ordeal in the boat and the mutiny of the
Bounty.
From the outset, the
Narrative
had been conceived as only part of what would eventually be a more expansive and complete work, but even in its abbreviated form it received enormously favorable reviews.
A Narrative of the Mutiny, on Board His Majesty’s Ship Bounty
;
and the Subsequent Voyage of Part of the Crew, in the Ship’s Boat, From Tofoa, one of the Friendly Islands, to Timor, a Dutch Settlement in the East Indies.
Taken directly and with little embellishment from Bligh’s log and the notebook he had kept in the launch, this essentially modest work was the first public account of both his ordeal in the boat and the mutiny of the
Bounty.
From the outset, the
Narrative
had been conceived as only part of what would eventually be a more expansive and complete work, but even in its abbreviated form it received enormously favorable reviews.
Bligh’s
Narrative
began with the mutiny, with the taunts and rough laughter, the threats to blow out his brains and the oaths of the pirates—“Damn your eyes, you are well off to get what you have.” As the
Bounty
slipped behind the launch, cries of “Huzza for Otaheite” had been raised by the mutineers.
Narrative
began with the mutiny, with the taunts and rough laughter, the threats to blow out his brains and the oaths of the pirates—“Damn your eyes, you are well off to get what you have.” As the
Bounty
slipped behind the launch, cries of “Huzza for Otaheite” had been raised by the mutineers.
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