University of Virginia Library

7. CHAPTER VII.

July 10. Spoke a brig from Rio, bound to Norfolk.
Weather hazy, with a light baffling wind from the eastward.
To-day Hartman Rogers died, having been attacked
on the eighth with spasms after drinking a glass
of grog. This man was of the cook's party, and one
upon whom Peters placed his main reliance. He told
Augustus that he believed the mate had poisoned him,
and that he expected, if he did not be on the look-out,
his own turn would come shortly. There were now
only himself, Jones, and the cook belonging to his own
gang—on the other side there were five. He had
spoken to Jones about taking the command from the
mate; but the project having been coolly received, he
had been deterred from pressing the matter any further,
or from saying anything to the cook. It was well, as it
happened, that he was so prudent, for in the afternoon
the cook expressed his determination of siding with the
mate, and went over formally to that party; while
Jones took an opportunity of quarrelling with Peters,
and hinted that he would let the mate know of the plan
in agitation. There was now, evidently, no time to be
lost, and Peters expressed his determination of attempting
to take the vessel at all hazards, provided Augustus
would lend him his aid. My friend at once assured him
of his willingness to enter into any plan for that purpose,

and, thinking the opportunity a favourable one, made known
the fact of my being on board. At this the hybrid was
not more astonished than delighted, as he had no reliance
whatever upon Jones, whom he already considered as
belonging to the party of the mate. They went below
immediately, when Augustus called to me by name, and
Peters and myself were soon made acquainted. It was
agreed that we should attempt to retake the vessel upon
the first good opportunity, leaving Jones altogether out
of our councils. In the event of success we were to
run the brig into the first port that offered, and deliver
her up. The desertion of his party had frustrated Peters's
design of going into the Pacific—an adventure
which could not be accomplished without a crew, and
he depended upon either getting acquitted upon trial on
the score of insanity (which he solemnly averred had
actuated him in lending his aid to the mutiny), or upon
obtaining a pardon, if found guilty, through the representations
of Augustus and myself. Our deliberations
were interrupted for the present by the cry of “All
hands take in sail,” and Peters and Augustus ran up on
deck.

As usual, the crew were nearly all drunk; and, before
sail could be properly taken in, a violent squall laid the
brig on her beam-ends. By keeping her away, however,
she righted, having shipped a good deal of water.
Scarcely was everything secure, when another squall
took the vessel, and immediately afterward another—no
damage being done. There was every appearance of a
gale of wind, which, indeed, shortly came on, with great
fury, from the northward and westward. All was made
as sung as possible, and we laid to, as usual, under a
close-reefed foresail. As night drew on, the wind increased
in violence, with a remarkably heavy sea. Peters
now came into the forecastle with Augustus, and we
resumed our deliberations.

We agreed that no opportunity could be more favourable
than the present for carrying our design into effect,
as an attempt at such a moment would never be anticipated.
As the brig was snugly laid to, there would be

no necessity of manœuvring her until good weather,
when, if we succeeded in our attempt, we might liberate
one, or perhaps two of the men, to aid us in taking her
into port. The main difficulty was the great disproportion
in our forces. There were only three of us, and in
the cabin there were nine. All the arms on board, too,
were in their possession, with the exception of a pair of
small pistols which Peters had concealed about his person,
and the large seaman's knife which he always wore
in the waistband of his pantaloons. From certain indications,
too, such, for example, as there being no such
thing as an axe or a handspike lying in their customary
places, we began to fear that the mate had his suspicions,
at least in regard to Peters, and that he would let
slip no opportunity of getting rid of him. It was clear,
indeed, that what we should determine to do could not
be done too soon. Still the odds were too much against
us to allow of our proceeding without the greatest caution.

Peters proposed that he should go up on deck, and
enter into conversation with the watch (Allen), when he
would be able to throw him into the sea without trouble,
and without making any disturbance, by seizing a good
opportunity; that Augustus and myself should then come
up, and endeavour to provide ourselves with some kind
of weapons from the deck; and that we should then
make a rush together, and secure the companion-way
before any opposition could be offered. I objected to
this, because I could not believe that the mate (who was
a cunning fellow in all matters which did not affect his
superstitious prejudices) would suffer himself to be so
easily entrapped. The very fact of there being a watch
on deck at all was sufficient proof that he was upon the
elert—it not being usual, except in vessels where discipline
is most rigidly enforced, to station a watch on
deck when a vessel is lying to in a gale of wind. As I
address myself principally, if not altogether, to persons
who have never been to sea, it may be as well to state
the exact condition of a vessel under such circumstances.
Lying to, or, in sea-parlance “laying to,” is a

measure resorted to for various purposes, and effected in
various manners. In moderate weather, it is frequently
done with a view of merely bringing the vessel to a
stand-still, to wait for another vessel, or any similar object.
If the vessel which lies to is under full sail, the
manœuvre is usually accomplished by throwing round
some portion of her sails so as to let the wind take them
aback, when she becomes stationary. But we are now
speaking of lying to in a gale of wind. This is done
when the wind is ahead, and too violent to admit of carrying
sail without danger of capsizing; and sometimes
even when the wind is fair, but the sea too heavy for the
vessel to be put before it. If a vessel be suffered to
scud before the wind in a very heavy sea, much damage
is usually done her by the shipping of water over her
stern, and sometimes by the violent plunges she makes
forward. This manœuvre, then, is seldom resorted to in
such case, unless through necessity. When the vessel
is in a leaky condition, she is often put before the wind
even in the heaviest seas; for, when lying to, her seams
are sure to be greatly opened by her violent straining,
and it is not so much the case when scudding. Often,
too, it becomes necessary to scud a vessel, either when
the blast is so exceedingly furious as to tear in pieces
the sail which is employed with a view of bringing her
head to the wind, or when, through the false modelling
of the frame or other causes, this main object cannot be
effected.

Vessels in a gale of wind are laid to in different manners,
according to their peculiar construction. Some
lie to best under a foresail, and this, I believe, is the
sail most usually employed. Large square-rigged vessels
have sails for the express purpose, called storm-staysails.
But the jib is occasionally employed by
itself—sometimes the jib and foresail, or a double-reefed
foresail, and not unfrequently the after-sails, are made
use of. Foretopsails are very often found to answer
the purpose better than any other species of sail. The
Grampus was generally laid to under a close-reefed
foresail.

When a vessel is to be laid to, her head is brought
up to the wind just so nearly as to fill the sail under
which she lies, when hauled flat aft, that is, when
brought diagonally across the vessel. This being done,
the bows point within a few degrees of the direction
from which the wind issues, and the windward bow
of course receives the shock of the waves. In this situation
a good vessel will ride out a very heavy gale of
wind without shipping a drop of water, and without any
further attention being requisite on the part of the crew.
The helm is usually lashed down, but this is altogether
unnecessary (except on account of the noise it makes
when loose), for the rudder has no effect upon the vessel
when lying to. Indeed, the helm had far better be left
loose than lashed very fast, for the rudder is apt to be
torn off by heavy seas if there be no room for the helm
to play. As long as the sail holds, a well-modelled
vessel will maintain her situation, and ride every sea, as
if instinct with life and reason. If the violence of the
wind, however, should tear the sail into pieces (a feat
which it requires a perfect hurricane to accomplish
under ordinary circumstances), there is then imminent
danger. The vessel falls off from the wind, and, coming
broadside to the sea, is completely at its mercy: the
only resource in this case is to put her quickly before the
wind, letting her scud until some other sail can be set.
Some vessels will lie to under no sail whatever, but
such are not to be trusted at sea.

But to return from this digression. It had never been
customary with the mate to have any watch on deck
when lying to in a gale of wind, and the fact that he
had now one, coupled with the circumstance of the missing
axes and handspikes, fully convinced us that the
crew were too well on the watch to be taken by surprise
in the manner Peters had suggested. Something, however,
was to be done, and that with as little delay as
practicable, for there could be no doubt that a suspicion
having been once entertained against Peters, he would
be sacrificed upon the earliest occasion, and one would

certainly be either found or made upon the breaking of
the gale.

Augustus now suggested that if Peters could contrive
to remove, under any pretext, the piece of chain-cable
which lay over the trap in the stateroom, we might possibly
be able to come upon them unawares by means of
the hold; but a little reflection convinced us that the
vessel rolled and pitched too violently for any attempt
of that nature.

By good fortune I at length hit upon the idea of working
upon the superstitious terrors and guilty conscience
of the mate. It will be remembered that one of the
crew, Hartman Rogers, had died during the morning,
having been attacked two days before with spasms after
drinking some spirits and water. Peters had expressed
to us his opinion that this man had been poisoned by
the mate, and for this belief he had reasons, so he said,
which were incontrovertible, but which he could not be
prevailed upon to explain to us—this wayward refusal
being only in keeping with other points of his singular
character. But whether or not he had any better
grounds for suspecting the mate than we had ourselves,
we were easily led to fall in with his suspicion, and determined
to act accordingly.

Rogers had died about eleven in the forenoon, in violent
convulsions; and the corpse presented in a few
minutes after death one of the most horrid and loathsome
spectacles I ever remember to have seen. The
stomach was swollen immensely, like that of a man
who has been drowned and lain under water for many
weeks. The hands were in the same condition, while
the face was shrunken, shrivelled, and of a chalky
whiteness, except where relieved by two or three glaring
red splotches, like those occasioned by the erysipelas:
one of these splotches extended diagonally across
the face, completely covering up an eye as if with a
band of red velvet. In this disgusting condition the
body had been brought up from the cabin at noon to be
thrown overboard, when the mate getting a glimpse of it
(for he now saw it for the first time), and being either

touched with remorse for his crime or struck with terror
at so horrible a sight, ordered the men to sew the body
up in its hammock, and allow it the usual rites of seaburial.
Having given these directions he went below,
as if to avoid any further sight of his victim. While
preparations were making to obey his orders, the gale
came on with great fury, and the design was abandoned
for the present. The corpse, left to itself, was washed
into the larboard scuppers, where it still lay at the time
of which I speak, floundering about with the furious
lurches of the brig.

Having arranged our plan, we set about putting it in
execution as speedily as possible. Peters went upon
deck, and, as he had anticipated, was immediately accosted
by Allen, who appeared to be stationed more as
a watch upon the forecastle than for any other purpose.
The fate of this villain, however, was speedily and silently
decided; for Peters, approaching him in a careless
manner, as if about to address him, seized him by the
throat, and, before he could utter a single cry, tossed him
over the bulwarks. He then called to us, and we came
up. Our first precaution was to look about for something
with which to arm ourselves, and in doing this we
had to proceed with great care, for it was impossible to
stand on deck an instant without holding fast, and violent
seas broke over the vessel at every plunge forward.
It was indispensable, too, that we should be quick in our
operations, for every minute we expected the mate to be
up to set the pumps going, as it was evident the brig
must be taking in water very fast. After searching
about for some time, we could find nothing more fit for
our purpose than the two pump-handles, one of which
Augustus took, and I the other. Having secured these,
we stripped off the shirt of the corpse and dropped the
body overboard. Peters and myself then went below,
leaving Augustus to watch upon deck, where he took
his station just where Allen had been placed, and with
his back to the cabin companion-way, so that, if any one
of the mate's gang should come up, he might suppose it
was the watch.

As soon as I got below I commenced disguising myself
so as to represent the corpse of Rogers. The shirt
which we had taken from the body aided us very much,
for it was of a singular form and character, and easily
recognisable—a kind of smock, which the deceased wore
over his other clothing. It was a blue stockinett, with
large white stripes running across. Having put this on,
I proceeded to equip myself with a false stomach, in imitation
of the horrible deformity of the swollen corpse.
This was soon effected by means of stuffing with some
bedclothes. I then gave the same appearance to my
hands by drawing on a pair of white woollen mittens,
and filling them in with any kind of rags that offered
themselves. Peters then arranged my face, first rubbing
it well over with white chalk, and afterward splotching
it with blood, which he took from a cut in his finger.
The streak across the eye was not forgotten, and presented
a most shocking appearance.