[Gutenberg 44498] • The Wreck of the Grosvenor, Volume 2 of 3 / An account of the mutiny of the crew and the loss of the ship when trying to make the Bermudas

CHAPTER I.

As the men had been up all night, I recommended the carpenter to go to

them and tell them that the watches would not be altered, and that the

watch whose spell it was below should turn in.

Some, it appeared, asked that rum should be served out to them; but

the carpenter answered that none should be given them until breakfast

time, and that if they got talking too much about the drink, he'd run

a bradawl into the casks and let the contents drain out; for if the

men fell to drinking, the ship was sure to get into a mess, in which

case they might be boarded by the crew of another vessel and carried to

England, where nothing less than hanging or transportation awaited them.

This substantial advice from the lips of the man who had been foremost

in planning the mutiny produced a good effect, and the fellows who had

asked for spirits were at once clamorously assailed by their mates;

so that, in their temper, had the carpenter proposed to fling the rum

casks overboard, most of the hands would have consented and the thing

being done.

All this I was told by the boatswain, who had left the poop with the

carpenter, but returned before him. I took this opportunity of being

alone with the man to ask him some questions relative to the mutiny,

and particularly inquired if he could tell me what was that intention

which the man named "Bill" had asked the carpenter to communicate

to me, but which he had refused to explain. The boatswain, who was

at bottom a very honest man, declared that he had no notion of the

intention the carpenter was concealing, but promised to try and worm

the secret out of Johnson or others who were in it, and impart it to me.

He now informed me that he had come into the mutiny because he saw the

men were resolved, and also because they thought he took the captain's

part, which was a belief full of peril to him. He said that he could

not foresee how this trouble would end; for though the idea of the men

to quit the ship and make for the shore in open boats was feasible,

yet they would run very heavy risks of capture any way; for if they

came across a ship while in the boats they could not refuse to allow

themselves to be taken on board, where, some of the mutineers being

very gross and ignorant men, the truth would certainly leak out; whilst

as to escaping on shore, it was fifty to one if the answers they made

to inquiries would not differ so widely one from another as to betray

them.

But at this point our conversation was interrupted by the carpenter

coming aft to ask me to keep watch whilst he and the boatswain turned

in, as he for one was "dead beat," and would not be of any service

until he had rested.

It was now broad daylight, the east filled with the silver splendours

of the rising sun. I descried a sail to windward, on the starboard

tack, heading eastward. I made her out through the glass to be a small

topsail schooner, but as we were going free with a fresh breeze we soon

sank her hull.

The sight of this vessel, however, set me thinking on my own position.

What would be thought and how should I be dealt with when (supposing I

should ever reach land) I should come to tell the story of this mutiny?

But this was a secondary consideration. My real anxiety was to foresee

how the men would act when I had brought them to the place they wished

to arrive at.