A week of light and fickle winds brought us through the Channel and well
on our way to Yarmouth Roads, off which we understood Admiral Duncan was
lying. As we passed the Downs, strange and ugly rumours of trouble
ahead met us. One night, as we lay anchored waiting for our wind, I was
on deck at my watch when I caught the sound of oars approaching the
_Zebra_. Shortly after several missives were pitched on deck, one of
which alighted just at my feet.
I examined it with some curiosity. It was a bundle of printed papers
addressed to the sailors of England, calling upon them to insist on the
redress of grievances, and to stand by their brethren who at that moment
were in a state of mutiny at the Nore. Other papers described the
success which had attended a similar mutiny at Spithead a week or so
previously. Another was a flaring proclamation, signed "Parker,
President," on board H.M.S. _Sandwich_ at the Nore, announcing that the
fleet was in the hands of the men; that all the obnoxious officers were
under arrest; that the Thames was under strict blockade; that conditions
had been offered to the Admiralty; and that, if these were not accepted
within a given time, it was the intention of the leaders of the mutiny
to put to sea and hand the ships in their possession to the enemy.
Further, it was stated that the fleet at the Nore was being daily
recruited by deserters from the North Sea squadron and elsewhere; that
arms and supplies were abundant; and that England was at the mercy of
those whom up till now she had treated as veritable slaves. And so on.
All this greatly troubled me; for, from what I knew of the crew of the
_Zebra_, such seditious stuff furnished just the fuel required to set
the spirit of the men in a blaze. The other missives thrown on board,
no doubt containing the same or similar matter, had pretty certainly
fallen into the hands of those who would read the call to mutiny with
different eyes from mine. If so, the mischief was already far gone.
I hastened with my papers to Lieutenant Adrian, who glanced over them
contemptuously.
"All bunkum and wind," said he, pitching them into a corner. "We have
heard this sort of thing before."
"If it is true, sir," I ventured to say, "that the ships at the Nore
have mutinied, we had better give them a wide berth, for it's a catching
thing."
"Pooh! there's no more in it than the cat and a noose or two at the
yard-arms can cure," said he. "However, keep your eyes open, Mr
Gallagher, and report the first sign of mutiny. There's nothing like
nipping it in the bud."
For all the lieutenant's assumed indifference, further consultation with
the captain and the other officers resulted in some needful precautions
being taken. The watches were increased, the ammunition was placed
under extra guard, and picked men were told off to man the helm. As the
south-easterly breeze was rising, too, orders were given to weigh anchor
at once and put to sea.
The men obeyed the orders to set sail in a sullen, mechanical way, which
did not grow more hearty as they saw that every officer carried his
pistol in his belt, and watched the execution of every command with
suspicious keenness.
It was only when the order to turn in gave them the opportunity of
congregating in larger numbers and discussing the proclamation that they
took heart, and arrived at something like a united policy. Had I had my
own way that night, convinced as I was of the inevitable outcome of
delay, I would have clapped down the hatches and left them there to
deliberate till doomsday, or such time as they chose to beg for release
on the captain's terms. As it was, there was nothing to do but to
speculate moodily on what the morrow would bring forth, and meanwhile
make what use we could of the favouring breeze to put as many leagues as
possible between ourselves and the treasonable neighbourhood of the
Nore.
The worst of it was that the honest grievances of the seamen were so
patent, and the injustice they suffered at the hands of officers like
Lieutenant Adrian so flagrant, that had they been fairly stated and
fairly met nothing but good could have come of it. But put forward as
they were likely to be by a crew like ours, and encouraged and fomented
by agitators such as those who had drawn up the proclamation, what issue
was probable but one of desperate struggle and probably bloodshed?
It was plainly seen, when hands were piped next morning, that the temper
of the men had changed for the worse. As they strolled indolently up on
deck, and glanced up at the well-set sails, and saw the bows pointing
due north, and as their eyes fell on the bright pistols and side-arms at
the officers' belts, it was evident they were in some doubt as to what
course to pursue.
They talked together in surly groups, arguing probably that on the high
sea, away from support, and in the presence of a forewarned and
forearmed body of officers, their chances of seizing the ship were not
promising; and one or two were bold enough audibly to regret their folly
for not having struck their blow and hoisted the red flag while the
_Zebra_ lay in friendly company in the Downs.
Finally, as I supposed, it was decided to wait till we reached Yarmouth
Roads, and claim the support of the mutineers there. Meanwhile orders
were obeyed with ominous silence; and worse still, the few loyal men on
whom the officers had counted to stand by them were got at and drawn
into consultation with their messmates, and some of them were seduced
into taking part with the malcontents.
Next afternoon we sighted sails to northward; but as just then the
breeze fell dead, we were unable before nightfall to ascertain whether
they were ships of Admiral Duncan's squadron or not. While Lieutenant
Adrian was deliberating with the other officers as to whether we should
put off a boat to get word of them, the men came aft in a body and
demanded a conference.
Their spokesman was an Irishman whom I recognised as one of the new
hands brought on board at the last moment off Dublin. He was a glib,
noisy fellow, clever most likely at anything but seamanship, of which he
knew nothing, and very little acquainted with the seamen's grievances of
which he elected himself to speak.
Lieutenant Adrian, who was in an ill-enough temper at the time, ordered
him to take himself and the dogs at his heels to the place they came
from, unless he wanted to taste the lash.
The men, who had expected some such reception, stood their ground, and
ordered Callan, for that was the leader's name, to say on.
"It's not yourself we need to speak to," said Callan, "it's the captain.
Let us see him."
"My lads," said the ship's surgeon, who was one of the officers present,
"you are like enough to see your captain in his shroud before morning,
for he is this moment at death's door."
"So much the worse," replied Callan. "There was hope of justice out of
Captain Swift; there's none at all out of the lieutenant."
"There's precious good hope of a rope's end," retorted the enraged
lieutenant hotly.--"Mr Gallagher, see that the fool is put in irons at
once, and any one else that joins with him. We'll soon put an end to
this, even should a man dangle at every yard-arm for it!"
The only reply to this was a cheer from the men, and, what was quite
unexpected, a sudden click of pistols as they drew up in two lines
across the deck.
"Look'ee here, Mr Adrian," said Callan, "we're not the fools you take
us for. While you have been drinking, we have not been idle. The
powder-magazine is ours, and the forward guns are loaded and primed and
turned this way.--Stand aside, lads, and let them see for themselves."
The ranks opened, and sure enough in the forecastle we could see the
muzzles of two twenty-four pounders pointed at the quarter-deck, and
manned by some of the very men of whose loyalty until yesterday there
had been least question.
Lieutenant Adrian, although a bully and a brute, was not lacking in
animal courage, and betrayed no sign of dismay at this discovery.
"If you think we are to be frightened, hang you," said he, "you are much
mistaken. What is it you want?"
A coarse laugh greeted this tame ending to his speech. One old tar put
himself forward before Callan could reply.
"It's like this," said he, with a salute. "We mean no disrespect to the
captain or the service, but--"
"Hold your tongue," said Callan, pushing him aside.--"What do we want?
That's easy told."