Our delegates, at his suggestion, immediately communicated with those
of the _Clyde_, an old fellow-cruiser, commanded by Captain Cunningham.
That officer, on account of his justice, humanity, and bravery, enjoyed,
as did Sir Harry, the confidence of his ship's company. An arrangement
was therefore made between the captains and their crews that, should the
mutineers persevere in their misconduct, they would take the ships out
from amidst the fleet, fighting our way, if necessary, and run for
protection under cover of the forts at Sheerness. Every preparation was
made. We waited till the last moment. The mutineers showed no
disposition to return to their duty. The _Clyde_ was the in-shore ship;
she was therefore to move first. We watched her with intense interest,
while we remained still as death. Not one of our officers appeared on
deck, and but few of the men, though numerous eager eyes were gazing
through the ports. The _Clyde_ had springs on her cables, we knew, but
as yet not a movement was perceptible. Suddenly her seamen swarmed on
the yards, the topsails were let fall and sheeted home. She canted the
right way. Hurrah! all sail was made. Away she went; and, before one
of the mutinous fleet could go in chase, she was under the protection of
the guns on shore. It was now our turn; but we had not a moment to
lose, as the tide was on the turn to ebb, when we should have had it
against us. What was our vexation, therefore, when the order was given
to get under weigh, to find that the pilot, either from fear,
incompetency, or treachery, had declared that he could not take charge
of the ship! Sir Harry would have taken her out himself; but the delay
was fatal to his purpose, and before we could have moved, boats from the
other ships were seen approaching the _San Fiorenzo_. They contained
the delegates from the fleet, who, as they came up the side, began, with
furious looks, to abuse our men for not having fired into the _Clyde_,
and prevented her escaping. High words ensued, and so enraged did our
men become at being abused because they did not fire on friends and
countrymen, that one of the quartermasters, John Aynsley by name, came
aft to the first lieutenant, and entreated that they might be allowed
"to heave the blackguards overboard."
Note. The plan was proposed and executed by the late Mr W. Bardo,
pilot, then a mate in the navy. He returned to the _San Fiorenzo_, and
piloted her as he had the _Clyde_, when her own pilot refused to take
charge.
A nod from him would have sealed the fate of the delegates. I thought
then, (and I am not certain that I was wrong) that we might at that
moment have seized the whole of the scoundrels, and carried them off
prisoners to Sheerness. It would have been too great a risk to have run
them up to the yard-arm, or hove them overboard, as our men wished, lest
their followers might have retaliated on the officers in their power.
No man was more careful of human life than Sir Harry, and it was a plan
to which he would never have consented. The delegates, therefore,
carried things with a high hand, and, convinced that our crew were loyal
to their king and country, they ordered us to take up a berth between
the _Inflexible_ and _Director_, to unbend our sails, and to send our
powder on board the _Sandwich_, at the masthead of which ship the flag
of the so-called Admiral Parker was then flying. That man, Richard
Parker, had been shipmate with a considerable number of the crew of the
_San Fiorenzo_, as acting lieutenant, but had been dismissed his ship
for drunkenness, and having lost all hope of promotion, had entered
before the mast.
Our people had, therefore, a great contempt for him, and said that he
was no sailor, and that his conduct had ever been unlike that of an
officer and a gentleman. Such a man, knowing that he acted with a rope
round his neck, was of course the advocate of the most desperate
measures. Everything that took place was communicated immediately to
Sir Harry, who advised the men to pretend compliance, and, much to our
relief, the other delegates took their departure. As soon as they were
gone, Sir Harry told the ship's company that, provided they would agree
to stand by him, he would take the ship into Sheerness, as before
intended. The men expressed their readiness to incur every possible
risk to effect that purpose. The almost unarmed condition of the ship
at the time must be remembered. The men set zealously to work to
prepare for the enterprise. Springs were got on our cables. All was
ready. The flood had made. The object was to cast in-shore. The men
were at their stations. We were heaving on the spring--it broke at the
most critical moment, and we cast outward. There was no help for it.
Nothing could prevent us from running right in among the two ships of
the mutinous fleet which I have mentioned, and which lay with their guns
double shotted, and the men at quarters, with the lanyards in their
hands, ready to fire at us. Our destruction seemed certain; but not for
a moment did our captain lose his presence of mind. Calm as ever, he
ordered the quartermaster Aynsley to appear on deck as if in command,
while the officers concealed themselves in different parts of the ship,
he standing where he could issue his orders and watch what was taking
place. All was sheeted home in a moment, and we stood in between the
two line-of-battle ships, the _Director_ and _Inflexible_. The ship, by
this time, had got good way on her. It appeared that we were about to
take up the berth into which we had been ordered, when Sir Harry
directed that all the sheets should suddenly be let fly. This took the
mutineers so completely by surprise, that not a gun was then fired at
us. Sir Harry next ordered the helm to be put "hard-a-port," which
caused the ship to shoot ahead of the _Inflexible_--we were once more
outside our enemies. Springing immediately on deck, he took the
command, crying out, in his encouraging tone, "Well done, my lads--well
done!"
A loud murmur of applause and satisfaction was heard fore and aft; but
we had no time for a cheer.
"Now clear away the bulkheads, and mount the guns," he added.
Every man flew with a hearty will to obey his orders. And need there
was; for scarcely were the words out of his mouth than the whole fleet
of thirty-two sail opened their fire on us. The shot flew like hail
around us, and thick as hail, ploughing up the water as they leaped
along it, chasing each other across the surface on every side of the
ship. We could have expected nothing else than to be sunk instantly,
had we had time for consideration; but, as it was, wonderfully few
struck our hull, while not a shroud was cut away, nor was a man hurt.
The huge _Director_, close to us, might have sent us to the bottom with
a broadside, but not a shot from her, that we could see, came aboard us.
"They have not the heart to fire at us, the blackguards!" observed one
of the men near me.
"It may be that, Bill; but, to my mind, they're struck all of a heap at
seeing the brave way our captain did that," answered another. "If we'd
had the guns mounted he'd have fired smack into them. We send our
powder aboard that pirate Parker's ship! we unbend our sails to please
such a sneaking scoundrel as he!"
"It's just this, that the misguided chaps are slaves against their will,
and they haven't become bad enough yet to fire on their countrymen, and
maybe old friends and shipmates," said a third.
Such were the opinions generally expressed on board. It was reported
afterwards that the _Director_ fired blank cartridges, and this may have
been the case, but I think more probably that her people were first
struck with astonishment at our manoeuvre, and then, with admiration at
the bravery displayed, purposely fired wide of us. As, however, we were
frequently struck, some shots by traitorous hands must have been aimed
at us from her, or from some of the other ships. In little more than
two hours the bulkheads were cleared away from the cabin door, to the
break of the quarter-deck, (the whole space having, as I before said,
been fitted up with cabins for the suite of Her Royal Highness). The
guns on both sides were got up from the hold and mounted, and we were
ready for action. As soon as the task was accomplished, the men came
aft in a body, and entreated, should any ships be sent after us by the
mutineers, that they might be allowed to fight to the last, and go down
with our colours flying, rather than yield, and return to the fleet at
the Nore.
Sir Harry readily promised not to disappoint their wishes.
We stood on, but as yet no sign was perceptible of chase being made
after us. It was possible, we thought, that no ship's company could be
induced to weigh in pursuit. They well knew that we should prove a
tough bargain, had any single ship come up with us. Should we prove
victorious, every man might have been hung as a pirate. As to Parker,
he dared not leave his fleet, as he ventured to call it.
Our master, although a good navigator, did not feel himself justified in
taking charge of the ship, within the boundaries of a Branch pilot, and
we were therefore on the look-out for a pilot vessel, when a lugger was
discovered on the lee-bow, and we were on the point of bearing down to
her, when we made out first a ship or two, then several sail, and
lastly, a whole fleet, which we guessed must be the North Sea Fleet
standing for the Nore. We were steering for them, to give the admiral
notice of what had occurred, when the red flag was discovered flying on
board them also. They had, as it appeared, left their station in a
state of mutiny, having placed the admiral and all the officers under
arrest. To avoid them altogether was impossible, and before long a
frigate bore down to us. Should our real character be discovered, we
must be captured by an overwhelming force. Still Sir Harry remained
calm and self-possessed as ever. As the frigate approached, he ordered
all the officers below, and giving the speaking-trumpet to Stanley, the
quartermaster, told him to reply as he might direct. The frigate hailed
and inquired what we were about. "Looking out to stop ships with
provisions, that we may supply the fleet," was the answer. The people
of the frigate, satisfied with this reply, proceeded to rejoin the
fleet, while we, glad to escape further questioning, made sail in chase
of the lugger. She was a fast craft, and led us a chase of four hours
before we captured her. She proved to be the _Castor and Pollux_
privateer of sixteen guns. Having taken out the prisoners, and put a
prize crew on board, we were proceeding to Portsmouth, when the lugger,
being to windward, spoke a brig, which had left that place the day
before, and from her gained the information that the mutiny had again
broken out at Spithead. Under these circumstances, Sir Harry thought it
prudent to anchor under Dungeness until he could communicate with the
Admiralty. This we did; but it was a time of great anxiety, for the
mutineers might consider it important to capture us, to hold Sir Harry
and his officers as hostages, and to wreak their vengeance on our men.
We got springs on the cable, and the ship ready for action. During the
middle watch a ship was made out bearing down towards us; she was high
out of the water, and was pronounced by many to be a line-of-battle
ship. Sir Harry was on deck in an instant--the private signal was
made--would it be answered? Yes; but there was no security in this, as,
should the ship's company have mutinied, they would naturally have
possessed themselves of it. The drum beat to quarters, the fighting
lanterns were up, their light streaming through our ports. Our men
earnestly repeated their request to be allowed to sink rather than
surrender to the mutineers. No sight of the sort could be finer, as the
brave fellows stood stripped to the waist, dauntless and resolute, not
about to fight with a common foe, but one that would prove cruel and
revengeful in the extreme. The wind was extremely light, and the
stranger closed very slowly. The suspense was awful. In a short time
we might be engaged in a deadly struggle with a vastly superior foe, and
deadly all determined that it should be. Nearer and nearer the stranger
drew; at length our captain hailed. The answer came: "The _Huzzar_!
Lord Garlais! from the West Indies." She anchored close to us, and we
exchanged visits. Her people, ignorant of the mutiny, could not
understand the necessity of the precaution we had taken. They were so
struck, when made acquainted with what had occurred, at the bravery and
determination of our ship's company, that they immediately swore they
would stick by us, and that, should any ship be sent to take us back to
the Nore, they would share our fate, whatever that might be. I am sure
that they would have proved as good as their word, but daylight came,
and no enemy appeared. We lay here for some time, that Sir Harry might
ascertain what was occurring on shore. He found that most active and
energetic measures were being taken to repress the mutiny, and in a few
days we heard that the ship's company of the _Sandwich_ had taken her
into Sheerness, and allowed their late leader, Parker, to be arrested by
a guard of soldiers, sent on board for that purpose by Admiral Buckner.
We sailed for Plymouth, and another ship was appointed to have the
honour of taking over the Princess Royal.
I must say a word or two about that mutiny. I am convinced that the
proportion of disaffected men was comparatively small. The seamen had
grievances, but those would have been redressed without their proceeding
to the extremities into which they plunged, led by a few disappointed
and desperate men like Parker. Had greater energy been shown from the
first, during some of the opportunities which occurred, the whole affair
might have been concluded in a more dignified manner, at a much earlier
date. I will instance one occasion. Having one day got leave from the
delegates of our ship, while we lay off Sheerness, to go on shore, I
landed at the dockyard. I found, as I passed through it, that I was
followed by the whole body of delegates, walking two-and-two in
procession, Parker and Davis leading, arm-in-arm. Just as we got
outside the gates, the Lancashire Fencibles appeared, coming to
strengthen the garrison. As soon as the seamen got near the soldiers,
they began to abuse them in so scurrilous a manner, that the officer in
command halted his men, and seeing the admiral and superintendent, close
to whom I at the time was standing opposite the gates, he came, and,
complaining of the insults offered to himself and men, asked permission
to surround and capture them. So eager did I feel, that I involuntarily
exclaimed, "Yes! yes! now's the time!" The admiral, on hearing me,
turned sharply round, and demanded how I dared to speak in that way?
"Because there they all are, sir, and we may have them in a bunch!" I
replied, pointing to Parker, Davis, and the rest. The admiral told me
that I did not know what I was saying; but I did, and I have no cause to
suppose that I was wrong. When the truly loyal and heroic conduct of
our ship's company became known, it was intended to raise a sum in every
seaport town in England to present to them. From some reason, however,
the Government put a stop to it, and the only subscription received was
from Ludlow in Shropshire, from whence the authorities sent 500 pounds
to Sir Harry Neale, which he distributed to the ship's company on the
quarter-deck.
CHAPTER TEN.
ORLO AND ERA.
A TALE OF THE AFRICAN SLAVE TRADE.
There exists an extensive district on the west coast of Africa, about
forty miles to the north of the far-famed river Niger, known as the
Yoruba country. Sixty years ago it was one of the most thickly
populated and flourishing parts of equatorial Africa, the inhabitants
having also attained to a considerable amount of civilisation, and made
fair progress in many industrial arts.
Then came those dreadful wars, carried on by the more powerful and cruel
chiefs, for the purpose of making slaves to sell to the white traders,
who carried them away to toil in the plantations of North and South
America and Cuba, and the prosperity of the once happy people of Yoruba
was brought to an end. The savage rulers of Dahomey and Lagos now
became notorious for the barbarities they inflicted on the unoffending
tribes in their neighbourhood. The Yoruba country was the chief scene
of their hunting expeditions. Towns and villages were attacked and
burned; the able-bodied men and young women and children were carried
off into slavery; the aged were ruthlessly murdered, fields and
plantations were laid waste, and a howling wilderness was left behind.
At length the scattered remnants of the population who had escaped from
slavery and death assembled together in a spot among rocks, especially
strong by nature, where they hoped to be able to make a stand against
their persecutors. Here they built a town, to which they gave the name
of Abbeokuta, or the place among the rocks. It increased rapidly in
population and extent, for numerous were the unfortunates in search of a
home, and rest, and peace.
Lagos, one of the chief strongholds of the slave-dealers, which the
Yorubans most had to fear, has since been taken possession of by the
British, and has been declared an English colony or settlement; but
Dahomey, governed by its bloodthirsty monarch, with his army of six
thousand Amazons and five thousand male warriors, still exists as a
terrible scourge to the surrounding territories.
On the confines of the Yoruba country existed a beautiful village which
had hitherto escaped the ravages of the relentless slave-hunting foe.
It was situated on the banks of a rapid stream, which gave freshness to
the air, and fertility to the neighbouring plantations. Palms, dates,
and other trees of tropical growth, overshadowed the leaf-thatched
cottages, in which truly peace and plenty might be said to reign.
Although true happiness cannot exist where Christianity is not, and
where the fear of the fetish and the malign influence of the spirit of
evil rules supreme over the mind, the people were contented, and
probably as happy as are any of the countless numbers of the still
benighted children of Africa. Rumours of wars and slave-hunts reached
them, but they had so long escaped the inflictions others had suffered,
that they flattered themselves they should escape altogether. So little
accustomed are the negro race to look to the future, contented with the
pleasures of the passing moment, that as they did not actually see the
danger, they allowed no anticipation of evil to mar their happiness.
The hearts of the dark-skinned children of that burning clime are as
susceptible of the tender sentiments of love and friendship as many of
those boasting a higher degree of civilisation, and a complexion of a
fairer hue. No couple, indeed, could have been more warmly attached
than were young Orlo and Era, who had lately become man and wife, and
taken up their abode in the village. They were industrious and happy,
and from morning till night their voices might be heard singing as they
went about their daily work. Orlo employed himself principally in
collecting the various products of the country to sell to the traders
who occasionally visited the district,--palm oil, and gold dust from the
neighbouring rivulet, and elephants' tusks, and skins which he took in
the chase.
At length Era gave birth to a child, a little boy, which proved a great
addition to their happiness, and drew still closer the bonds of their
affection. Indeed no people can be fonder of their children than are
the negroes of Africa.
Soon after little Sobo was born Orlo set off on a hunting expedition
with several other villagers, telling Era that he must get her some
fresh soft skins for their child's bed, and that he must be more
industrious than ever, as he had a family to provide for.
Era entreated him not to be long away.
"Two or three days will see me back, laden with the spoils of the
chase," was his answer, in a cheerful tone.
Era's heart sank within her--why, she could not tell. With anxious eyes
she watched him and his companions as, with bows, and arrows, and lances
in hand, they disappeared among the trees.
Seldom had Orlo and his party been more successful. More than one lion,
several antelopes, and numerous monkeys were killed. Even a huge
elephant was conquered by their skill and cunning. The skins of the
animals slaughtered were hidden in safe places, to be taken up on their
return. Excited by their success they proceeded even farther than they
intended. Night surprised them, and collecting together they formed a
camp, with fires blazing in the centre to keep off the savage beasts
roaming around.
Their supper having been discussed, they were merrily laughing and
talking over their adventures when they were startled by some terrific
shouts and cries close to them. They grasped their arms, but before a
bow could be drawn a body of warriors rushed in on them with clubs and
swords, knocking over or cutting down all who stood at bay or attempted
resistance. Some endeavoured to escape, but they were completely
surrounded. Several were killed by their savage assailants, and their
bodies were left where they fell. The greater number were secured with
their arms bound tightly behind them, and they found themselves captives
to the troops of the King of Dahomey, towards whose capital they were
marched away in triumph. They had heard enough of the fate which had
befallen so many of their countrymen to know that they must never more
expect to taste the sweets of liberty; but they were scarcely aware of
the horrible cruelty to which the will of the tyrant King of Dahomey
might compel some of them to submit. Bitter, too, was the anguish which
poor Orlo suffered when he felt that he should for ever be separated
from his beloved Era.
The journey was long and tedious, and the captives' feet were torn by
the thorns and cut by the hard rocks over which they had to pass; but
whenever they lagged behind they were urged on by the long spears of
their relentless captors. Arrived at the capital, they were astonished
at its extent and the number of its inhabitants, and, more than all, by
the vast army they saw drawn up for the inspection of the king. They
had little opportunity of seeing much, for they were soon conducted into
a large low building, where they were secured by iron shackles, back to
back, to a long beam, scarcely able to move.
After remaining here for several days Orlo and others were separated
from their companions and carried to a building on one side of the great
square of the city, where all public ceremonies were performed.
Dreadful shrieks assailed their ears both by day and night. They heard
they were uttered by the human victims offered up by the savage king to
the spirits of his departed ancestors.
They were not long left in doubt as to what was to be their fate. They
also were to be destroyed in the same manner. Some of their number on
hearing this sank into a state of apathy, others loudly bemoaned their
cruel lot, and others plotted how they might escape, but Orlo could
think only of his beloved Era, and the anxiety and anguish his absence
would have caused her.
At length Orlo and nine others were taken out and told they were to
enjoy the high privilege of being sacrificed in presence of their king.
They were now dressed in white garments, and tall red caps were put on
their heads. Their arms and legs were then bound securely, and they
were placed in a sitting posture in small canoe-shaped troughs, and thus
in a long procession were carried around the square amid the cruel
shouts of the savage populace. At length they reached a high platform
or slope in the centre of the square, on which sat the king, under the
shade of a vast umbrella, surrounded by his courtiers and chiefs. Below
the platform were collected a vast mob of savages, their hideous
countenances looking up with fierce delight at the terrible drama which
was to be enacted. Among the crowd stood several men of gigantic
stature, even more savage-looking than the rest, armed with huge knotted
clubs. These they knew instinctively were their intended executioners.
Not one of them attempted to plead for mercy; that they knew were vain.
Their eyes glanced hopelessly round, now on the assembled throng below,
now on the groups collected on the platform, not expecting to meet a
look of compassion turned towards them. But yes, among one group they
see a man of strange appearance. His skin is white, and by his fine
dress, glittering with gold, they believe him to be a great chief. He
advances towards the king, whom, with eager look, he addresses in a
strange language. What he says they cannot tell, till another man of
their own colour speaks, and then they know that he is pleading for
their lives; not only pleading, but offering a large ransom if they be
given up to him. How anxiously they listen for the reply! The king
will not hear of it. The spirit of his father complains that he has
been neglected; that his nation must have become degenerate; that they
have ceased to conquer, since so few captives have been sent to bear him
company in the world of shades. Again the strange white chief speaks,
and offers higher bribes. Curious that he should take so much trouble
about some poor black captives they think. What can be his object?
What can influence him?
He does not plead altogether in vain. The king will give him four for
the sum he offers, but no more. He would not dare thus to displease the
shade of his father, and the white chief may choose whom he will. The
victims gaze anxiously at his countenance. It is merciful and benign
they think--unlike any they have before seen. Which of them will he
select?