kettles, and other articles, took their leave. The account which they
transmitted home of this newly-discovered colony, was, strange to say,
as little attended to by government as that of Captain Folger, and
nothing more was heard of Adams and his family for nearly twelve years,
when in 1825, Captain Beechey, in the _Blossom_, bound on a voyage of
discovery to Behring's Straits, touched at Pitcairn's Island. On the
approach of the _Blossom_ a boat came off under all sail towards the
ship, containing old Adams and ten of the young men of the island. After
requesting and obtaining leave to come on board, the young men sprang up
the side, and shook every officer cordially by the hand. Adams, who was
grown very corpulent, followed more leisurely. He was now dressed in a
sailor's shirt and trousers, with a low-crowned hat, which he held in
his hand in sailor fashion, while he smoothed down his bald forehead
when addressed by the officers of the _Blossom_. It was the first time
he had been on board a British vessel since the destruction of the
_Bounty_, now thirty-five years ago; and it was evident his mind
recurred to the events of that period. Captain Beechey procured from
Adams a detailed narrative of the whole transaction of the mutiny and
subsequent events, which has since been published by that gentleman, and
of which we have already given an abstract. The little colony had now
increased to about sixty-six, including an English sailor of the name of
John Buffet, who at his own earnest desire had been left by a whaler. In
this man, the society luckily found an able and willing schoolmaster. He
instructed the children in reading, writing, and arithmetic, and
devoutly co-operated with old Adams in affording religious instruction
to the community. The officers of the _Blossom_ went ashore, and were
entertained with a sumptuous repast at young Christian's, the table
being spread with plates, knives, and forks. Buffet said grace in an
emphatic manner, and so strict were they in this respect, that it was
not deemed proper to touch a morsel of bread without saying grace both
before and after it. The officers slept in the house all night, their
bed-clothing and sheets consisting of the native cloth made of the
native mulberry-tree. The only interruption to their repose was the
melody of the evening hymn, which was chanted together by the whole
family after the lights were put out; and they were awakened at early
dawn by the same devotional ceremony. On Sabbath the utmost decorum was
attended to, and the day was passed in regular religious observances.
All that remains to be said of these excellent people, concludes
Beechey, is, that they appear to live together in perfect harmony and
contentment; to be virtuous, religious, cheerful, and hospitable beyond
the limits of prudence; to be patterns of conjugal and parental
affection, and to have very few vices. We remained with them many days,
and their unreserved manners gave us the fullest opportunity of becoming
acquainted with any faults they might have possessed.
In consequence of a representation made by Captain Beechey, the British
government sent out Captain Waldegrave in 1830, in the _Seringapatam_,
with a supply of sailors' blue jackets and trousers, flannels, stockings
and shoes, women's dresses, spades, mattocks, shovels, pickaxes,
trowels, rakes, etc. He found their community increased to about
seventy-nine, all exhibiting the same unsophisticated and amiable
characteristics as we have before described. Other two Englishmen had
settled amongst them; one of them, called Nobbs, a self-constituted
missionary, who was endeavouring to supersede Buffet in his office of
religious instructor. The patriarch Adams, it was found, had died in
March, 1826, aged sixty-five. While on his death-bed he had called the
heads of families together, and urged upon them to elect a chief, which,
however, they had not yet done; but the greatest harmony still prevailed
amongst them, notwithstanding Nobb's exertions to form a party of his
own. Captain Waldegrave thought that the island, which is about four
miles square, might be able to support a thousand persons, upon reaching
which number they would naturally emigrate to other islands.
Such is the account of this most singular colony, originating in crime
and bloodshed. Of all the repentant criminals on record, the most
interesting, perhaps, is John Adams. Nor do we know where to find a more
beautiful example of the value of early instruction than in the history
of this man, who, having run a full career of most kinds of vice, was
checked by an interval of leisure and reflection, and a sense of new
duties awakened by the power of natural affection.
THE STORY OF LORD EXMOUTH
(SIR EDWARD PELLEW).
Edward Pellew, afterwards Viscount Exmouth, was born at Dover in 1757.
At thirteen years of age he went to sea on board the _Juno_ frigate as
midshipman, and later served in the _Blonde_ frigate on Lake Champlain
during the American War. While here, in command of the _Pelican_ in
1782, he defeated three French privateers. Attracting the attention of
his superiors by his cool and intrepid daring, he was sent home with
despatches and strongly recommended for promotion.
On the outbreak of war with France in 1793 he was made captain of the
_Nymph_, a thirty-six gun frigate, which he manned chiefly with Cornish
miners, signalising his appointment by capturing the _Cleopatra_ of
forty guns--"a crack ship of France"--after a brief and brilliant
encounter on the morning of June 18th. The captain of the French frigate
was killed and three lieutenants wounded, besides which she lost sixty
of her men, one hundred and fifty being taken prisoners. Captain Pellew
lost twenty-three men killed and twenty-seven wounded. This being the
first capture after the outbreak of the war, Captain Pellew received the
honour of knighthood. His next appointment was to the _Arethusa_, of
forty-four guns, in which he distinguished himself on many occasions
while serving in the Channel with Sir J. B. Warren's squadron. Sir
Edward Pellew was, however, distinguished not only for his military
skill and prowess but for his heroic humanity. The story of the
shipwreck of the _Dutton_ and of Sir Edward Pellew's gallant rescue of
her crew and passengers has been often told, and we are glad to be able
to quote the description given by his biographer.
In January, 1796, Sir Edward's ship the _Indefatigable_ was refitting in
Plymouth Harbour, and on the 26th Sir Edward and Lady Pellew were
driving to a dinner party when they learned that there was a wreck off
the shore, upon which Sir Edward left the carriage and proceeded to the
Hoe.
"Arrived at the beach, he saw at once that the loss of nearly all on
board, between five hundred and six hundred, was inevitable, without
some one to direct them. The principal officers of the ship had
abandoned their charge and got on shore just as he arrived on the beach.
Having urged them, but without success, to return to their duty, and
vainly offered rewards to pilots and others belonging to the port to
board the wreck--for all thought it too hazardous to be attempted--he
exclaimed, 'Then I will go myself!' A single rope, by which _the
officers_ and a few others had landed, formed the only communication
with the ship, and by this he was hauled on board through the surf. The
danger was greatly increased by the wreck of the masts which had fallen
towards the shore, and he received an injury in the back which confined
him to his bed for a week, in consequence of being dragged under the
main mast. But, disregarding this at the time, he reached the deck,
declared himself and assumed the command. He assured the people that
every one would be saved if they quietly obeyed his orders; that he
himself would be the last to quit the wreck, but that he would run any
one through who disobeyed him. His well-known name, with the calmness
and energy he displayed, gave confidence to the despairing multitude. He
was received with three hearty cheers, which were echoed by the
multitude on shore, and his promptitude and resource soon enabled him to
find and apply the means by which all might be safely landed. His
officers, in the meantime, though not knowing that he was on board, were
exerting themselves to bring assistance from the _Indefatigable_. Mr.
Pellowe, first lieutenant, left the ship in the barge, and Mr. Thomson,
acting master, in the launch; but the boats could not be brought
alongside the wreck and were obliged to run for the Barbican. A small
boat belonging to a merchant vessel was more fortunate. Mr. Esdell,
signal midshipman to the port admiral, and Mr. Coghlan, mate of the
(merchant) vessel, succeeded, at the risk of their lives, in bringing
her alongside. The ends of two additional hawsers were got on shore, and
Sir Edward contrived cradles, to be slung upon them, with travelling
ropes to pass forward and backward between the ship and the beach. Each
hawser was held on shore by a number of men, who watched the rolling of
the wreck, and kept the ropes tight and steady. Meantime a cutter had
with great difficulty worked out of Plymouth Pool, and two large boats
arrived from the dockyard, under the directions of Mr. Hemmings, the
master-attendant, by whose caution and judgment they were enabled to
approach the wreck, and received the more helpless of the passengers who
were carried to the cutter. Sir Edward, with his sword drawn, directed
the proceedings and preserved order, a task the more difficult as the
soldiers had got at the spirits before he came on board and many were
drunk. The children, the women and the sick were the first landed. One
of them was only three weeks old, and nothing in the whole transaction
impressed Sir Edward more strongly than the struggle of the mother's
feelings before she would entrust her infant to his care, or afforded
him more pleasure than the success of his attempt to save it. Next, the
soldiers were got on shore, then the ship's company, and finally Sir
Edward himself, who was one of the last to leave her. Every one was
saved, and presently afterwards the wreck went to pieces."
"Nothing," says Mr. Giffard in his "Deeds of Naval Daring," "could equal
the lustre of such an action, except the modesty of him who was the hero
of it. Indeed, upon all occasions, forward as he was to eulogise the
merits of his followers, Sir Edward was reserved, almost to a fault,
upon everything connected with his own services. The only notice taken
of the _Dutton_ in the journal of the _Indefatigable_, is the short
sentence, 'Sent two boats to the assistance of a ship on shore in the
Sound;' and in his letter to Vice-admiral Onslow, who had hoisted his
flag at Plymouth a day or two before, he throws himself almost out of
sight and ascribes the chief merit to the officer who directed the
boats:--
"'DEAR SIR,--I hope it happened to me this afternoon to be
serviceable to the unhappy sufferers on board the _Dutton_; and
I have much satisfaction in saying that every soul in her was
taken out before I left her, except the first mate, boatswain
and third mate, who attended the hauling of ropes to the shore,
and they eased me on shore by the hawsers. It is not possible to
refrain speaking in raptures of the handsome conduct of Mr.
Hemmings, the master-attendant, who, at the imminent risk of his
life, saved hundreds. If I had not hurt my leg and been
otherwise much bruised, I would have waited on you; but hope
this will be a passable excuse.--I am, with respect, sir, your
most obedient humble servant,
"'ED. PELLEW.'"
Services performed in the sight of thousands could not thus be
concealed. Praise was lavished upon him from every quarter. The
corporation of Plymouth voted him the freedom of the town. The merchants
of Liverpool presented him with a valuable service of plate. On the 5th
of March following he was created a baronet as Sir Edward Pellew, of
Ireverry, and received for an honourable augmentation of his arms a
civic wreath, a stranded ship for a crest, and the motto "Deo adjuvante
Fortuna sequatur." This motto, so modest, and not less expressive of his
own habitual feeling, was chosen by himself, in preference to one
proposed which was more personally complimentary.
In 1799 he removed into _L'Impétueux_, of seventy-four guns, and later
to _Le Tonnant_, of eighty guns, soon after being raised to the rank of
rear-admiral and placed in command of the fleet in the East Indies,
where he exterminated the French cruisers and remained until 1809. After
this he served in the North Sea and then in the Mediterranean. His
services were rewarded with a peerage, to which he was raised as Baron
Exmouth, and a pension of £2,000 a year. In 1816 he proceeded to the
Barbary States on a mission to liberate the Christian slaves; but
finding on his return that his treaties were disregarded, he returned to
Algiers and bombarded the town, reducing the enemy to submission, for
which service he was made a viscount. In 1817 he was appointed to the
chief command at Plymouth, and in 1821 he returned from active service,
but was made Vice-admiral of England in 1832. "Few men," says a
biographer, "in the naval service of this country--eminently
distinguished as many have been--ever bore so prominent a part, or
evinced more determined courage and coolness in the discharge of their
arduous duties than did this gallant, humane and active officer. He
seemed to be a very _beau idéal_ of a British sailor; his undaunted
courage and enterprise was strikingly shown in his manly aspect, and
though a perfect disciplinarian, his hearty and encouraging words
produced a magic effect on his officers and men, while they always felt
the fullest confidence in his skill and intrepidity. He died in January
1833."
THE GLORIOUS FIRST OF JUNE.
On January 21st, 1793, Louis XVI. of France was guillotined, and in the
following month the French Republic declared war against England. Fully
sensible of their inability to cope with the English in regular naval
warfare the French contented themselves for some time with sending out
cruisers and small squadrons and even single ships; and these were so
successful that in the month of May, 1794, ninety-nine ships were taken
by the French, whereas only one, a frigate of thirty-eight guns, was
captured by the English.
At length the French government were compelled to attempt a naval
armament on a larger scale, for their harvest failed them, and in dread
of famine they were compelled to look abroad for sources of supply. The
stability of their own government depended upon the success with which
they dealt with this difficulty, for it was not to be expected that a
new government, deriving its power and authority from the people, would
be able to continue if the nation became irritated and excited by the
pressure of famine. And yet the difficulties that beset their path were
all but insurmountable. The nations of Europe were almost without
exception hostile to them, and America was almost the only country to
which they could look for help, and the task of convoying supplies from
America while the English were masters of the sea was one attended with
very great difficulty and risk.
The French Government, however, had only a choice of difficulties. If
they sent their fleet to sea it must encounter the English fleet; if
they did not send a fleet to sea they were sure to lose their convoy of
provisions and worse disasters would follow. There can be no doubt,
however, that, under the circumstances, the utter destruction even of
the whole fleet would have been a much less serious evil than the loss
of the provision convoy, for the fleet might, in the course of time, be
replaced, but if the provisions were taken France would either be
actually starved or the people, under the apprehension of starvation,
would rise against the government.
It was therefore resolved to send the French fleet to sea; and about the
middle of May a fleet, under the command of Rear-admiral Villaret,
sailed from Brest; Jean Bon St. Andre, one of the representatives of the
people, sailing on board the admiral's ship to stimulate and encourage
the expedition.
Lord Howe, aware of the expected convoy, proceeded to sea early in the
same month with twenty-six sail of the line in the hope of intercepting
it. On the 19th as he was cruising off Brest, he received information
that the enemy's fleet had put to sea, and on the same evening he
received despatches from Rear-admiral Montague, who was also cruising in
the Channel, which induced him to attempt a junction of the two fleets.
Had this been effected Lord Howe would have had a very great superiority
over the French fleet; but in the meantime he learnt that the French
were but a few leagues to the westward, and he was consequently obliged
to alter his course to go in quest of them.
Early in the morning of May 28th the advanced English frigates
discovered the French fleet far on the weather bow of the English
admiral's ship. At first the enemy did not appear to see the English,
for they came down for some time in very loose order; but when they came
nearer they hauled to the wind. They were, however, very slow in
completely forming in regular order of battle, occupying indeed several
hours in the operation. This circumstance was of great consequence to
Lord Howe, as it afforded time for the detached part of the British
fleet, commanded by Rear-admiral Pasley, to be placed advantageously for
effecting an impression on their rear; and in the meantime the whole of
the English fleet was making a nearer approach.
In the French official report of the engagement given by Jean Bon St.
Andre, he observes that while the two fleets continued manoeuvring, one
of the ships, _La Révolutionnaire_, from motives not understood by the
rest of the fleet, slackened its sails on the approach of the English;
and that Admiral Pasley taking advantage of this circumstance, led on
his division and attacked this vessel. In the conflict the British
rear-admiral had his top mast disabled; assistance was therefore
immediately ordered, and Lord Hugh Seymour, in the _Leviathan_, pushed
up also to attack the _Révolutionnaire_, and was supported by Captain
Parker, of the _Audacious_. The captain of the _Révolutionnaire_ was
killed and the vessel greatly damaged. English official accounts add
that the _Révolutionnaire_ struck to the _Audacious_. Night, however,
put an end to the conflict; and in the morning a French ship fell in
with the _Révolutionnaire_ and towed her into Rochefort.
During the whole of the night of the 28th the two fleets continued in
sight of each other; and on the morning of the following day Lord Howe
made the signal for the fleet to tack, with the intention, if possible,
of making some further impression on the rear of the enemy. As soon as
the French admiral perceived this manoeuvre he also made the signal for
his fleet to wear from van to rear, and continued edging down in a line
for the purpose of bringing the van of the British fleet to action. Lord
Howe upon this made the signal for passing through the enemy's line, and
a severe action commenced. The _Cæsar_, which was the leading ship of
the British van, did not, however, keep to the wind; and this
circumstance appearing likely to prevent the movement of passing the
French line from taking its full and proper effect, the admiral
immediately tacked, and being followed and supported by the
_Bellerophon_ and the _Leviathan_, passed through between the fifth and
sixth ships of the line of the enemy. Lord Howe having accomplished this
part of his plan, put about again, in preparation for renewing the
attack; but after manoeuvring and counter-manoeuvring for some time the
French wore round and stood away in order of battle, on the larboard
tack, followed by the British fleet in the same order. The fleets then
remained separated a few miles; and as there was a very thick fog they
were seldom seen by each other. This fog lasted for the greater part of
the two following days.
The object of the British admiral, hitherto, had been to obtain the
weather-gauge of the enemy, in order that he might not only compel him
to fight, but to fight on terms and in a situation comparatively
favourable to himself. Having succeeded in this object, an opportunity
occurred on June 1st for bringing the French fleet to close and general
action. Lord Howe accordingly threw out the signal for his ships to bear
up together and come to close action, between seven and eight o'clock in
the morning. The French fleet originally consisted of twenty-six sail of
the line, and the British of the same force; but on the part of the
former the _Révolutionnaire_ had been towed into Rochefort; and on the
part of the latter the _Audacious_ had parted company after her
engagement with the _Révolutionnaire_.
The battle immediately commenced and was carried on in a very courageous
manner on both sides; but though the revolutionary spirit of the French
officers and seamen incited them to fight with more obstinacy than they
generally displayed in naval engagements, it could not give them
discipline, skill and experience equal to that of the British, and they
soon became sensible that the victory could not be with them. Several of
the ships on both sides were dismasted, and the carnage was very great.
In the French official account of the battle it was stated that the
officers and crew of _Le Vengeance_, of seventy-four guns, displayed a
true republican spirit; that after the lower decks were under water and
destruction inevitable, they continued to fire the upper tier; and that
at the moment the ship went to the bottom the air resounded with the cry
of "Vive la république, vive la liberté et la France."
Giffard in his "Deeds of Naval Daring" gives several anecdotes of
incidents which occurred during this famous day. He says, "On the
morning of June 1st Rear-admiral Neuilly, pointing out to Captain
Troubridge, at that time a prisoner on board the _Sans Pareil_, our
fleet sailing parallel to them, said, 'Your people are not disposed to
fight; they won't venture down.' Troubridge, who had seen the signal
flying for breakfast on board the ships of the British fleet, was at the
time partaking of the same meal, and, dropping the loaf he held, he
placed his hand on the French officer's shoulder, saying, 'Not fight!
stop till they have had their breakfasts. I know John Bull well, and
when his belly is full, you will get it. Depend on it, they will pay you
a visit in half an hour.' In a few minutes after the British fleet bore
up to engage. During the action Troubridge was sent below, where for
some time he leaned against the fore-mast. Suddenly he felt the
vibration of the mast as it was struck by a shot, and heard it fall over
the side, when, grasping the astounded Frenchman appointed to guard him
with both hands, he began to caper about with all the gestures of a
maniac. Lord Howe, in the _Queen Charlotte_, wished to be placed
alongside the _Montagne_, the French admiral's ship, and gave his orders
to his master accordingly. As they approached the French line it
appeared so compact and close that a doubt was expressed whether they
could get through; while closing with the _Montagne_, the master, who
held the helm, called out that they would be on board the next ship.
'What's that to you, sir?' said Lord Howe. Bowen, the master, as bold a
man as his admiral, replied coolly in an undertone, 'If you don't care,
I am sure I don't. I'll go near enough to singe some of our whiskers.'
The _Queen Charlotte_ dashed through the line, brushed the ensign of the
French admiral's (_Villaret Joyeuse_) flag ship on one side, grazing on
the other the _Jacobin's_ mizen shrouds with her jibboom, an exploit
which has never been equalled, although approached by Collingwood at
Trafalgar. The cannonade was tremendous and our gunnery most effective.
The broadside poured into the stern of the _Montagne_ as the _Queen
Charlotte_ passed made a hole, said the sailors, large enough to row the
admiral's barge through it. Howe's masts were shot away as the
_Montagne_ ceased firing; this gave her the opportunity to make off to
leeward. The _Queen_, _Defence_, _Marlborough_, _Royal George_, and
_Brunswick_ were the only ships which, like Howe's, pushed through the
enemy's line on that memorable and eventful day. The _Queen_, in which
Lord Gardner's flag was flying, was dreadfully cut up; her Captain,
Hutt, died of his wounds, and has a monument in St. Paul's. Gardner
learned during the engagement that a near relative, to whom he was
attached, was killed. He went on giving his orders in an unaltered tone;
but as the wind for a moment cleared off the smoke, marks of tears were
on his face; they were easily traced, for it was besmeared with smoke
and powder. The _Defence_, Captain Gambier, got into the midst of the
French ships, lost her main and mizen masts and behaved in the most
gallant manner. Captain Berkeley of the _Marlborough_ was carried off
deck wounded, and the second lieutenant, Seymour, afterwards Sir
Michael, lost an arm. The ship was reduced to a wreck, but was fought to
the last by Lieutenant Monckton. While the bowsprit of the _Impétueux_
was over the _Marlborough's_ quarters, a sailor, leaping over, said he
would pay them a visit. He was called to take a sword. 'I'll find one
there,' he said, and actually came back with two of the enemy's
cutlasses in his hands. The _Brunswick_ had a figure-head of the duke,
with a laced cocked-hat on; the hat was shot off. The crew thinking that
a prince of that house should not be uncovered in the face of an enemy,
sent a request to their captain to supply the loss. He ordered his
servant to give them his cocked-hat. The carpenter nailed it on, and
there it remained until the battle was over. These incidents, amidst a
terrific fire, paint our sailors as they were and as they are. Harvey,
the captain of the _Brunswick_, died of his wounds."