CHAPTER THREE.
Roused discipline alone proclaims their cause, And injured navies urge their broken laws. Pursue we in his track the mutineer. BYRON.
Man, like all other animals of a gregarious nature, is more inclined tofollow than to lead. There are few who are endued with that impetus ofsoul which prompts them to stand foremost as leaders in the storming ofthe breach, whether it be of a fortress of stone or the more dangerousone of public opinion, when failure in the one case may precipitate themon the sword, and in the other consign them to the scaffold.
In this mutiny there were but few of the rare class referred to above:in the ship whose movements we have been describing not one, perhaps,except Peters. There were many boisterous, many threatening, but noone, except him, who was equal to the command, or to whom the commandcould have been confided. He was, on board of his own ship, the verylife and soul of the mutiny. At the moment described at the end of thelast chapter, all the better feelings of his still virtuous heart werein action; and, by a captain possessing resolution and a knowledge ofhuman nature, the mutiny might have been suppressed; but Captain A---,who perceived the anxiety of Peters, thought the child a prize of nosmall value, and, as Adams brought him aft, snatched the boy from hisarms, and desired two of the party of marines to turn their loadedmuskets at his young heart--thus intimating to the mutineers that hewould shoot the child at the first sign of hostility on their part.
The two marines who had received this order looked at each other insilence, and did not obey. It was repeated by the captain, whoconsidered that he had hit upon a masterpiece of diplomacy. Theofficers expostulated; the officer commanding the party of marinesturned away in disgust; but in vain: the brutal order was reiteratedwith threats. The whole party of marines now murmured, and consultedtogether in a low tone.
Willy Peters was the idol and plaything of the whole crew. He hadalways been accustomed to remain on board with his father, and there wasnot a man in the ship who would not have risked his life to have savedthat of the child. The effect of this impolitic and cruel order wasdecisive. The marines, with the sergeant at their head, and littleWilly placed in security in the centre, their bayonets directed on thedefensive, towards the captain and officers, retreated to the mutineers,whom they joined with three cheers, as the child was lifted over thebarricade of hammocks, and received into his father's arms.
"We must now submit to their terms, sir," said the first lieutenant.
"Any terms, any terms," answered the terrified captain: "tell them so,for God's sake, or they will fire. Adams, go forward and tell them wesubmit."
This order was, however, unnecessary; for the mutineers, aware of theimpossibility of any further resistance, had thrown down the barricadeof hammocks, and, with Peters at their head, were coming aft.
"You consent, gentlemen, to consider yourselves under an arrest?"inquired Peters of the first lieutenant and officers, without paying anyattention to the captain.
"We do, we do," cried Captain A---. "I hope you will not stain yourhands with blood. Mr Peters, I meant the child no harm."
"If you had murdered him, Captain A---, you could not have injured himso much as you have injured his father," retorted Peters; "but fear notfor your life, sir: that is safe; and you will meet all the respect andattention to your wants that circumstances will permit. We war not withindividuals."
It was a proud moment for Peters to see this man cringing before him,and receiving with thanks the promise of his life from one whom he hadso cruelly treated. There was a glorious revenge in it, the full forceof which could only be felt by the granting, not the receiving party:for it could only be appreciated by one who possessed those fine andhonourable feelings, of which Captain A--- was wholly destitute.
If the reader will consult the various records of the times which we arenow describing, he will find that every respect was personally paid tothe officers, although they were deprived of their arms. Some of themost obnoxious were sent on shore, and the intemperate conduct of othersproduced effects for which they had only to thank themselves; but, onthe whole, the remark made by Peters was strictly correct: "They warrednot with individuals,"--they demanded justice from an ungratefulcountry.
It is true that the demands in this mutiny were not so reasonable as inthe preceding; but where is the _man_ who can confine himself to theexact balance of justice when his own feelings are unwittingly throwninto the scale?
As I before stated, it is not my intention to follow up the details ofthis national disgrace, but merely to confine myself to that part whichis connected with the present history. Peters, as delegate from hisship, met the others, who were daily assembled, by Parker's directions,on board of the _Queen Charlotte_, and took a leading and decided partin the arrangements of the disaffected fleet.
But Parker, the ringleader, although a man of talent, was not equal tothe task he had undertaken. He lost sight of several important featuresnecessary to insure success in all civil commotions: such as rapidityand decision of action, constant employment being found, and continualexcitement being kept up amongst his followers, to afford no time forreflection. Those who serve under an established government knowexactly their present weight in the scale of worldly rank, and theextent of their future expectations; they have accustomed themselves tobound their ambition accordingly: and feeling conscious that passiveobedience is the surest road to advancement, are led quietly, here orthere, to be slaughtered at the will and caprice of their superiors.But the leader of the disaffected against an established government hasa difficult task. He has nothing to offer to his followers butpromises. There is nothing on hand--all is expectation. If allowedtime for reflection, they soon perceive that they are acting an humblepart in a dangerous game; and that even though it be attended withsuccess, in all probability they will receive no share of theadvantages, although certain of incurring a large proportion of therisk. The leader of a connected force of the above description rises toa dangerous height when borne up by the excitement of the time; but letit once be permitted to subside, and, like the aeronaut in his balloon,from which the gas escapes while it is soaring in the clouds, he isprecipitated from his lofty station, and gravitates to his owndestruction.
He must be a wonderful man who can collect all the resources of apopular commotion, and bring it to a successful issue. The reason isobvious--everything depends upon the leader alone. His followers arebut as the stones composing the arch of the bridge by which the gulf isto be crossed between them and their nominal superiors; he is thekeystone, upon which the whole depends--if completely fitted, renderingthe arch durable and capable of bearing any pressure; but if too smallin dimensions, or imperfect in conformation, rendering the whole labourfutile, and occasioning all the fabric previously raised to beprecipitated by its own weight, and dispersed in ruin and confusion.
This latter was the fate of the mutiny at the Nore. The insurrectionwas quelled, and the ringleaders were doomed to undergo the utmostpenalty of martial law. Among the rest, Peters was sentenced to death.
In the foremost part of the main-deck of a line-of-battle ship, in asquare room, strongly bulk-headed, and receiving light from one of theports, as firmly secured with an iron grating--with no other furniturethan a long wooden form--his legs in shackles, that ran upon a heavyiron bar lying on the deck--sat the unfortunate prisoner, in companywith three other individuals--his wife, his child, and old Adams, thequartermaster. Peters was seated on the deck, supporting himself byleaning against the bulkhead. His wife was lying beside him, with herface hidden in his lap. Adams occupied the form, and the child stoodbetween his knees. All were silent, and the eyes of the three weredirected towards one of the sad company, who appeared more wretched anddisconsolate than the rest.
"My dear, dear Ellen!" said Peters, mournfully, as a fresh burst ofgrief convulsed her attenuated frame.
"Why, then, refuse my solicitations, Edward? If not for yourself,listen to me for the sake of your wife and child. Irr
itated as yourfather still may be, his dormant affection will be awakened, when he isacquainted with the dreadful situation of his only son; nay, his familypride will never permit that you should perish by so ignominious adeath; and your assumed name will enable him, without blushing, to exerthis interest, and obtain your reprieve."
"Do not put me to the pain of again refusing you, my dearest Ellen. Idesire to die, and my fate must be a warning to others. When I reflectwhat dreadful consequences might have ensued to the country from ourrebellious proceedings, I am thankful, truly thankful, to God, that wedid not succeed. I know what you would urge--my wrongs, my undeservedstripes. I, too, would urge them; and when my conscience has pressed mehard, have urged them in palliation; but I feel that it is only inpalliation, not in justification, that they can be brought forward.They are no more in comparison with my crime than the happiness of oneindividual is to that of the nation which I assisted to endanger,because one constituting a part of it had, unauthorised, oppressed me.No, no, Ellen, I should not be happy if I were not to atone for myfaults; and this wretched life is the only atonement I can offer. Butfor you, and that poor child, my dearest and kindest, I should go to thescaffold rejoicing; but the thoughts--O God, strengthen and support me!"cried the unhappy man, hiding his face in his hands.
"Fear not for me, Edward. I feel here," said Ellen, laying her hand onher heart, "a conviction that we shall soon meet again. I will urge youno more love. But the boy--the boy--Oh, Edward! what will become ofthat dear boy when we are both gone?"
"Please God to spare my life, he'll never want a father," said oldAdams, as the tears found a devious passage down the furrows of hisweather-beaten face.
"What will become of him?" cried Peters with energy. "Why, he shallretrieve his father's faults--wash out the stain in his father'scharacter. He shall prove as liege a subject as I have been arebellious one. He shall as faithfully serve his country as I haveshamefully deserted it. He shall be as honest as I have been false; andoh, may he be as prosperous as I have been unfortunate--as happy as Ihave been miserable. Come hither, boy. By the fond hopes I entertainof pardon and peace above--by the Almighty, in whose presence I mustshortly tremble, I here devote thee to thy country--serve her bravelyand faithfully. Tell me, Willy, do you understand me, and will youpromise me this?"
The boy laid his head upon his father's shoulder, and answered in a lowtone--"I will;" and then, after a short pause, added, "but what are theygoing to do with you, father?"
"I am going to die for my country's good, my child. If God wills it,may you do the same, but in a more honourable manner."
The boy seemed lost in thought, and, after a short time, quitted hisfather's side, and sat down on the deck by his mother, without speaking.
Adams rose, and taking him up, said, "Mayhap you have that to talk ofwhich wants no listeners. I will take Willy with me, and give him alittle air before I put him in his hammock. It's but a close hole,this. Good night to you both, though I'm afeard that's but a wish."
But a wish indeed!--and it was the last that was ever to close upon theunhappy Peters. The next morning was appointed for his execution.There are scenes of such consummate misery, that they cannot beportrayed without harrowing up the feelings of the reader,--and of thesethe climax may be found in a fond wife, lying at the feet of her husbandduring the last twelve hours of his mortal career. We must draw thecurtain.
And now, reader, the title of this work, which may have puzzled you,will be explained: for, intelligible as it may be to our profession, itmay be a mystery to those who are not in his Majesty's service. Thebroad-headed arrow was a mark assumed at the time of the Edwards (whenit was considered the most powerful weapon of attack), as distinguishingthe property of the King; and this mark has been continued down to thepresent day. Every article supplied to his Majesty's service from thearsenals and dockyards is thickly studded with this mark; and to befound in possession of any property so marked is a capital offence, asit designates that property to be the _King's own_.
When Adams left the condemned cell with Willy, he thought upon what hadpassed, and as Peters had devoted the boy to his King and country, hefelt an irresistible desire to mark him. The practice of tatooing isvery common in the navy; and you will see a sailor's arm covered withemblems from the shoulder to the wrist; his own initials, that of hissweetheart, the crucifix, Neptune, and mermaids being huddled together,as if mythology and Scripture were one and the same thing. Adams wasnot long in deciding, and telling our little hero that his father wishedit--he easily persuaded him to undergo the pain of the operation, whichwas performed on the forecastle, by pricking the shape of the figurerequired with the points of needles, and rubbing the bleeding parts withwet gunpowder and ink. By these simple means the form of a broad-headedarrow, or the King's mark, was, in the course of an hour, indeliblyengraved upon the left shoulder of little Willy, who was then consignedto his hammock.