University of Virginia Library

4. CHAPTER IV.

The brig put to sea, as I had supposed, in about an
hour after he had left the watch. This was on the
twentieth of June. It will be remembered that I had
then been in the hold for three days; and, during this
period, there was so constant a bustle on board, and so
much running to and fro, especially in the cabin and
staterooms, that he had had no chance of visiting me
without the risk of having the secret of the trap discovered.
When at length he did come, I had assured him
that I was doing as well as possible; and, therefore, for
the two next days he felt but little uneasiness on my account—still,
however, watching an opportunity of going
down. It was not until the fourth day that he found
one. Several times during this interval he had made up
his mind to let his father know of the adventure, and
have me come up at once; but we were still within
reaching distance of Nantucket, and it was doubtful,
from some expressions which had escaped Captain Barnard,
whether he would not immediately put back if he
discovered me to be on board. Besides, upon thinking
the matter over, Augustus, so he told me, could not imagine
that I was in immediate want, or that I would hesitate,
in such case, to make myself heard at the trap.
When, therefore, he considered everything, he concluded
to let me stay until he could meet with an opportunity
of visiting me unobserved. This, as I said before, did

not occur until the fourth day after his bringing me the
watch, and the seventh since I had first entered the
hold. He then went down without taking with him any
water or provisions, intending in the first place merely
to call my attention, and get me to come from the box
to the trap—when he would go up to the stateroom and
thence hand me down a supply. When he descended
for this purpose he found that I was asleep, for it seems
that I was snoring very loudly. From all the calculations
I can make on the subject, this must have been
the slumber into which I fell just after my return from
the trap with the watch, and which, consequently, must
have lasted for more than three entire days and nights at
the very least. Latterly, I have had reason, both from
my own experience and the assurance of others, to be
acquainted with the strong soporific effects of the stench
arising from old fish-oil when closely confined; and
when I think of the condition of the hold in which I
was imprisoned, and the long period during which the
brig had been used as a whaling vessel, I am more inclined
to wonder that I awoke at all, after once falling
asleep, than that I should have slept uninterruptedly for
the period specified above.

Augustus called to me at first in a low voice and
without closing the trap—but I made him no reply.
He then shut the trap, and spoke to me in a louder, and
finally in a very loud tone—still I continued to snore.
He was now at a loss what to do. It would take him
some time to make his way through the lumber to my
box, and in the mean while his absence would be noticed
by Captain Barnard, who had occasion for his services
every minute, in arranging and copying papers connected
with the business of the voyage. He determined, therefore,
upon reflection, to ascend, and await another opportunity
of visiting me. He was the more easily induced
to this resolve, as my slumber appeared to be of the most
tranquil nature, and he could not suppose that I had
undergone any inconvenience from my incarceration. He
had just made up his mind on these points when his attention
was arrested by an unusual bustle, the sound of

which proceeded apparently from the cabin. He sprang
through the trap as quickly as possible, closed it, and
threw open the door of his stateroom. No sooner had
he put his foot over the threshold than a pistol flashed
in his face, and he was knocked down, at the same moment,
by a blow from a handspike.

A strong hand held him on the cabin floor, with a
tight grasp upon his throat—still he was able to see
what was going on around him. His father was tied
hand and foot, and lying along the steps of the companion-way
with his head down, and a deep wound in the
forehead, from which the blood was flowing in a continued
stream. He spoke not a word, and was apparently
dying. Over him stood the first mate, eying him with
an expression of fiendish derision, and deliberately
searching his pockets, from which he presently drew
forth a large wallet and a chronometer. Seven of the
crew (among whom was the cook, a negro) were rummaging
the staterooms on the larboard for arms, where
they soon equipped themselves with muskets and ammunition.
Besides Augustus and Captain Barnard, there
were nine men altogether in the cabin, and these among
the most ruffianly of the brig's company. The villains
now went upon deck, taking my friend with them, after
having secured his arms behind his back. They proceeded
straight to the forecastle, which was fastened
down—two of the mutineers standing by it with axes—
two also at the main hatch. The mate called out in a
loud voice, “Do you hear there below? tumble up with
you—one by one, now, mark that—and no grumbling.”
It was some minutes before any one appeared: at last
an Englishman, who had shipped as a raw hand, came
up, weeping piteously, and entreating the mate in the
most humble manner to spare his life. The only reply
was a blow on the forehead from an axe. The poor
fellow fell to the deck without a groan, and the black
cook lifted him up in his arms as he would a child, and
tossed him deliberately into the sea. Hearing the blow
and the plunge of the body, the men below could now be
induced to venture on deck neither by threats nor promises,

until a proposition was made to smoke them out.
A general rush then ensued, and for a moment it seemed
possible that the brig might be retaken. The mutineers,
however, succeeded at last in closing the forecastle effectually
before more than six of their opponents could
get up. These six, finding themselves so greatly out-numbered
and without arms, submitted after a brief
struggle. The mate gave them fair words—no doubt
with a view of inducing those below to yield, for they had
no difficulty in hearing all that was said on deck. The
result proved his sagacity, no less than his diabolical villany.
All in the forecastle presently signified their intention
of submitting, and, ascending one by one, were
pinioned and thrown on their backs together with the
first six—there being in all, of the crew who were not
concerned in the mutiny, twenty-seven.

A scene of the most horrible butchery ensued. The
bound seamen were dragged to the gangway. Here the
cook stood with an axe, striking each victim on the head
as he was forced over the side of the vessel by the other
mutineers. In this manner twenty-two perished, and
Augustus had given himself up for lost, expecting every
moment his own turn to come next. But it seemed that
the villains were now either weary, or in some measure
disgusted with their bloody labour; for the four remaining
prisoners, together with my friend, who had been
thrown on the deck with the rest, were respited while
the mate sent below for rum, and the whole murderous
party held a drunken carouse, which lasted until sunset.
They now fell to disputing in regard to the fate of the
survivers, who lay not more than four paces off, and
could distinguish every word said. Upon some of the
mutineers the liquor appeared to have a softening effect,
for several voices were heard in favour of releasing the
captives altogether, on condition of joining the mutiny
and sharing the profits. The black cook, however (who
in all respects was a perfect demon, and who seemed to
exert as much influence, if not more, than the mate himself),
would listen to no proposition of the kind, and
rose repeatedly for the purpose of resuming his work at

the gangway. Fortunately, he was so far overcome by
intoxication as to be easily restrained by the less blood-thirsty
of the party, among whom was a line-manager,
who went by the name of Dirk Peters. This man was
the son of an Indian squaw of the tribe of Upsarokas, who
live among the fastnesses of the Black Hills near the
source of the Missouri. His father was a fur-trader, I
believe, or at least connected in some manner with the
Indian trading-posts on Lewis river. Peters himself
was one of the most purely ferocious-looking men I ever
beheld. He was short in stature—not more than four
feet eight inches high—but his limbs were of the most
Herculean mould. His hands, especially, were so enormously
thick and broad as hardly to retain a human
shape. His arms, as well as legs, were bowed in the
most singular manner, and appeared to possess no flexibility
whatever. His head was equally deformed, being
of immense size, with an indentation on the crown (like
that on the head of most negroes), and entirely bald.
To conceal this latter deficiency, which did not proceed
from old age, he usually wore a wig formed of any hairlike
material which presented itself—occasionally the
skin of a Spanish dog or American grizzly bear. At
the time spoken of he had on a portion of one of these
bearskins; and it added no little to the natural ferocity
of his countenance, which betook of the Upsaroka character.
The mouth extended nearly from ear to ear; the
lips were thin, and seemed, like some other portions of
his frame, to be devoid of natural pliancy, so that the
ruling expression never varied under the influence of
any emotion whatever. This ruling expression may be
conceived when it is considered that the teeth were exceedingly
long and protruding, and never even partially
covered, in any instance, by the lips. To pass this man
with a casual glance, one might imagine him to be convulsed
with laughter—but a second look would induce a
shuddering acknowledgment, that if such an expression
were indicative of merriment, the merriment must be that
of a demon. Of this singular being many anecdotes
were prevalent among the seafaring men of Nantucket.
These anecdotes went to prove his prodigious strength
when under excitement, and some of them had given
rise to a doubt of his sanity. But on board the Grampus,
it seems, he was regarded at the time of the mutiny
with feelings more of derision than of anything else. I
have been thus particular in speaking of Dirk Peters,
because, ferocious as he appeared, he proved the main
instrument in preserving the life of Augustus, and because
I shall have frequent occasion to mention him
hereafter in the course of my narrative—a narrative, let
me here say, which, in its latter portions, will be found
to include incidents of a nature so entirely out of the
range of human experience, and for this reason so far
beyond the limits of human credulity, that I proceed in
utter hopelessness of obtaining credence for all that I
shall tell, yet confidently trusting in time and progressing
science to verify some of the most important and
most improbable of my statements.

After much indecision and two or three violent quarrels,
it was determined at last that all the prisoners
(with the exception of Augustus, whom Peters insisted
in a jocular manner upon keeping as his clerk) should
be set adrift in one of the smallest whaleboats. The
mate went down into the cabin to see if Captain Barnard
was still living—for, it will be remembered, he was
left below when the mutineers came up. Presently the
two made their appearance, the captain pale as death,
but somewhat recovered from the effects of his wound.
He spoke to the men in a voice hardly articulate, entreated
them not to set him adrift, but to return to their
duty, and promising to land them wherever they chose,
and to take no steps for bringing them to justice. He
might as well have spoken to the winds. Two of the
ruffians seized him by the arms and hurled him over the
brig's side into the boat, which had been lowered while
the mate went below. The four men who were lying
on the deck were then untied and ordered to follow,
which they did without attempting any resistance—Augustus
being still left in his painful position, although he
struggled and prayed only for the poor satisfaction of

being permitted to bid his father farewell. A handful of
sea-biscuit and a jug of water were now handed down;
but neither mast, sail, oar, nor compass. The boat was
towed astern for a few minutes, during which the mutineers
held another consultation—it was then finally cut
adrift. By this time night had come on—there were
neither moon nor stars visible—and a short and ugly sea
was running, although there was no great deal of wind.
The boat was instantly out of sight, and little hope
could be entertained for the unfortunate sufferers who
were in it. This event happened, however, in latitude
35 ° 30′ north, longitude 61 ° 20′ west, and consequently
at no very great distance from the Bermuda Islands.
Augustus therefore endeavoured to console himself with
the idea that the boat might either succeed in reaching
the land, or come sufficiently near to be fallen in with by
vessels off the coast.

All sail was now put upon the brig, and she continued
her original course to the southwest—the mutineers
being bent upon some piratical expedition, in which,
from all that could be understood, a ship was to be intercepted
on her way from the Cape Verd Islands to Porto
Rico. No attention was paid to Augustus, who was
untied and suffered to go about anywhere forward of the
cabin companion-way. Dirk Peters treated him with some
degree of kindness, and on one occasion saved him from
the brutality of the cook. His situation was still one of
the most precarious, as the men were continually intoxicated,
and there was no relying upon their continued
good-humour or carelessness in regard to himself. His
anxiety on my account he represented, however, as the
most distressing result of his condition; and, indeed, I
had never reason to doubt the sincerity of his friendship.
More than once he had resolved to acquaint the mutineers
with the secret of my being on board, but was restrained
from so doing, partly through recollection of the
atrocities he had already beheld, and partly through a
hope of being able soon to bring me relief. For the
latter purpose he was constantly on the watch; but, in
spite of the most constant vigilance, three days elapsed

after the boat was cut adrift before any chance occurred.
At length, on the night of the third day, there came on a
heavy blow from the eastward, and all hands were called
up to take in sail. During the confusion which ensued,
he made his way below unobserved, and into the state-room.
What was his grief and horror in discovering
that the latter had been rendered a place of deposite for
a variety of sea-stores and ship-furniture, and that several
fathoms of old chain-cable, which had been stowed
away beneath the companion-ladder, had been dragged
thence to make room for a chest, and were now lying immediately
upon the trap! To remove it without discovery
was impossible, and he returned on deck as quickly
as he could. As he came up the mate seized him by
the throat, and demanding what he had been doing in
the cabin, was about flinging him over the larboard bulwark,
when his life was again preserved through the interference
of Dirk Peters. Augustus was now put in
handcuffs (of which there were several pairs on board),
and his feet lashed tightly together. He was then
taken into the steerage, and thrown into a lower berth
next to the forecastle bulkheads, with the assurance
that he should never put his foot on deck again “until
the brig was no longer a brig.” This was the expression
of the cook, who threw him into the berth—
it is hardly possible to say what precise meaning was
intended by the phrase. The whole affair, however,
proved the ultimate means of my relief, as will presently
appear.