A WONDERFUL ACHIEVEMENT
Rawlins knew he could rely on his fellow-countrymen, but at first he
hesitated to say anything to the four Hollanders. At last, however, he
found them anxious to join in with the scheme, and his next effort was
equally successful, for he “undermined” the English renegado-gunner and
three more, his associates. Last of all, the Dutch renegadoes of the
“gunner-room” were won over and persuaded by the four Hollanders.
The secret had been well kept, and Rawlins resolved that during the
captain’s morning watch he would make the attempt. Now where the English
slaves lay in the gunroom there were always four or five crowbars of iron
hanging up. When the time was approaching when the mutiny should take
place, Rawlins was in the act of taking down his iron crowbar when he had
the misfortune to make such a noise with it that it woke up the Turkish
soldiers, and they, in alarm, roused the other Moslems. Everything was in
pitch darkness and it was uncertain as to what would happen. Presently
the Turkish boatswain came below with a candle and searched all the parts
of the ship where the slaves were lying, but he found nothing suspicious
other than the crowbar, which had apparently slipped down. He then went
and informed the captain, who merely remarked that there was nothing to
cause uneasiness, as the crowbar not infrequently slipped down.
But with this unlucky beginning Rawlins deemed it best to postpone
the undertaking for the present. He had intended, with the aid of his
friends, knife in hand, to press upon the gunner’s breast and the other
English renegadoes, and either force them to help, or else to cut their
throats. “Die or consent”—this was to be the prevailing force, and
the watchword was to be, “For God and King James, and St. George for
England.” In the meantime the _Exchange_ continued on her northerly
voyage, farther and farther away from the coast of Barbary. Still
cautious but keen, Rawlins went about the ship’s company, and now had
persuaded the gunners and the other English renegades to fall in with
his project. This was one of the riskiest moments of his enterprise, but
it resulted that there were “reciprocal oaths taken, and hands given”
to preserve loyalty to each other: yet once again was Rawlins to be
disappointed.
For after the renegado gunner had solemnly sworn secrecy, he went up
the hatchway on deck for a quarter of an hour, after which he returned
to Rawlins in the “gunner-room.” Then, to Rawlins’ surprise, in came an
infuriated Turk with his knife drawn. This he presented in a menacing
manner to Rawlins’ body. The latter, cleverly feigning innocence,
inquired what was the matter, and whether it was the Turk’s intention to
kill him. To this the Turk answered, “No, master. Be not afraid: I think
he doth but jest.” But it was clear to Rawlins that the other man had
broken his compact and rounded on him. So, drawing back, Rawlins drew
out his own knife and also stepped towards the gunner’s side, so that
he was able to snatch the knife from the gunner’s sheath. The Turk,
seeing that now the Englishman had two knives to his one, threw down his
weapon, protesting that all the time he had been joking. The gunner also
whispered in Rawlins’ ear that he had never betrayed the plan nor would
he do such a thing. However, Rawlins thought otherwise and kept the two
knives with him all the night.
Very ingenious was the way in which this Rawlins was weaving his net
gradually but surely around the ship. He succeeded in persuading the
captain to head for Cape Finisterre, pretending that thereabouts they
would be likely to come upon a ship to be pillaged. This was perfectly
true, though the Englishman’s intention was to get the _Exchange_ farther
and farther from the Straits of Gibraltar, so that it became less and
less likely that the corsairs would send out reinforcements. On the
6th of February, when about thirty-six miles off the Cape, a sail was
descried. The _Exchange_ gave chase and came up with her, “making her
strike all her sails: whereby we knew her to be a bark belonging to
Torbay, near Dartmouth.” She was laden with a cargo of salt, and her
crew consisted of nine men and a boy. But it came on bad weather, so the
_Exchange_ did not then launch her boat, but ordered the Torbay ship to
let down her boat. Her master, with five men and the boy, now rowed off
to the _Exchange_, leaving behind his mate and two men in the bark. The
Turkish captain now sent ten Moslems to man her. Now among these ten were
two Dutch and one English renegadoes “who were of our confederacy.”
Just as the latter were about to hoist out their boat from the
_Exchange_, Rawlins was able to have a hurried conversation with them.
He quickly warned them it was his intention that night or the next to
put his plan into action, and he advised these men to inform the mate
and two men of the Torbay bark of this plot and then make for England,
“bearing up the helm, whiles the Turks slept and suspected no such
matter.” Rawlins reminded them that in his first watch, about midnight,
he would show them a light by which the men on the bark might know
that the plan was already in action. So the boat was let down from the
_Exchange_ and rowed off to the Torbay bark. The confederates then told
the mate of their intention, and he entirely approved of the plan, though
at first amazed by its ingenuity.
The fact was that the idea was really much simpler than was at first
apparent. Being sailors the English “had the helm of the ship,” for the
Turks, being only soldiers and ignorant of sea affairs, could not say
whether their vessel were sailing in the direction of Algiers or in the
opposite direction. They knew nothing of navigation and practically
nothing of seamanship, so they were, in spite of all their brutality,
more at the mercy of the Christians than they had realised. But, resolved
the plotters, if by any chance these Moslems should guess that the ship
was sailing away from Algiers then they would at once cut the Turks’
throats, and then throw their bodies overboard. It will be remembered
that the master and some of the Torbay bark’s crew were now in the
_Exchange_, and Rawlins made it his business to approach these men
tactfully and ask them to share in the plan. This they resolved to do.
So far so good. Now the number of Turks had been gradually diminishing
since the beginning of the cruise. For, first of all, nine Turks and one
English slave had been sent back to Algiers with the polacca prize; and
now some more had been sent off to the Torbay bark. Had the _Exchange’s_
captain fully realised how seriously he was diminishing the strength
of his own force, he could scarcely have done such a foolish thing.
But throughout the whole plot he was, without ever suspecting it, being
fooled by a clever schemer. Rawlins had all the tact and foresight of
a diplomatist combined with the ability to know when to strike and the
power to strike hard. And all this time, while the captain himself was
diminishing the number of Moslems and simultaneously adding to the number
of Englishmen by the arrival of the Torbay ship, Rawlins, in the most
impudent manner, was going about the ship winning every one except the
Turkish soldiers over to his side. One knows not which to admire most:
his wonderful courage or his consummate skill. For had he made one
single error in reposing confidence in the wrong man, the death of the
Englishman would have been both certain and cruel.
And the following step in Rawlins’ diplomatic advance was even more
interesting still. When morning came again—it was now the 7th of
February—the Torbay prize was quite out of sight. This annoyed the
captain of the _Exchange_ intensely, and he began both to storm and to
swear. He commanded Rawlins to search the seas up and down; but there was
not a vestige of the bark. She was beyond the horizon. In course of time
the captain abated his wrath and remarked that no doubt he would see her
again in Algiers and that all would be well. This remark rather worried
Rawlins, as he began to fear the captain would order the _Exchange_ to
return to the Straits of Gibraltar. But Rawlins did not allow himself to
worry long, and proceeded below down into the hold. Here he found that
there was a good deal of water in the bilges which could not be sucked
up by the pump. He came on deck and informed the captain. The latter
naturally asked how this had come about that the pump would not discharge
this, and Rawlins explained that the ship was too much down by the head
and needed to have more weight aft to raise her bows more out of the
water.
He therefore ordered Rawlins to get the ship trimmed properly. The
captain was swallowing the bait most beautifully; presently he would be
hooked. Rawlins explained that “We must quit our cables and bring four
pieces of ordnance” further aft, and that would cause the water to flow
to the pump. The captain, being quite ignorant of the ways of a ship,
ordered these suggestions to become orders, and so two of the guns which
usually were forward were now brought with their mouths right before the
binnacle. In the ship were three decks. Rawlins and his mates of the
“gunner-room” were warned to be ready to break up the lower deck; and
the English slaves, who always lay in the middle deck, were likewise
told to watch the hatchways. Rawlins himself persuaded the gunner to let
him have as much powder as would prime the guns, and quietly warned his
confederates to begin the mutiny as soon as ever the gun was fired, when
they were to give a wild shout and hand on the password.
The time appointed for the crisis was 2 p.m., and about that time Rawlins
advised the master-gunner to speak to the captain that the soldiers might
come on the poop deck and so bring the ship’s bows more out of the water
and cause the pump to work better. To this suggestion the captain readily
agreed, so twenty Turkish soldiers came aft to the poop, while five or
six of the confederates stole into the captain’s cabin and brought away
various weapons and shields. After that Rawlins and his assistants began
to pump the water. Later on, having made every preparation and considered
all details, in order to avoid suspicion the members of the “gunner-room”
went below and the slaves in the middle deck went about their work in
the usual way. Then the nine English slaves and John Rawlins, the five
men and one boy from the Torbay bark, the four English renegades, the
two Dutch and the four Hollanders “lifting up our hearts and thanks to
God for the success of the business” set to work on the final act of the
cleverly conceived plot.
About noon Roe and Davis were ordered by Rawlins to prepare their
matches, while most of the Turks were on the poop weighing down the
stern to bring the water to the pump. The two men came with the matches,
and at the appointed time Roe fired one of the guns, which caused a
terrific explosion. Immediately this was followed by wild cheering on
the part of the confederates. The explosion broke down the binnacle and
compasses, and the soldiers were amazed by the cheering of the Christian
slaves. And then they realised what had happened—that there had been a
mutiny, that the ship had been surprised. The Turks were mad with fury
and indignation. Calling the mutineers “Dogs,” they began to tear up
planks of the ship and to attack the confederates with hammers, hatchets,
knives, boat’s oars, boat-hook and whatever came into their hands. Even
the stones and bricks of the “cook-room,” or galley, were picked up and
hurled at Rawlins’ party.
But the carefully arranged plot was working out perfectly. Below, the
slaves had cleared the decks of all the Turks and Moors, and Rawlins now
sent a guard to protect the powder, and the confederates charged their
muskets against the remaining Turks, killing some of them on the spot.
The Moslems, who had been such tyrannical taskmasters, now actually
called for Rawlins, so he, guarded by some of his adherents, went to
them. The latter fell on their knees and begged for mercy, who had shown
no mercy to others. Rawlins knew what he was about, and after these
tyrants had been taken one by one, he caused them to be killed, while
other Turks leapt overboard, remarking that “it was the chance of war.”
Others were manacled and then hurled overboard. Some more had yet to be
killed outright, and then at length the victory and annihilation were
complete. By careful plotting and good organisation and a firmness at the
proper time, the whole scheme had been an entire success.
It happened that when the explosion had taken place, the captain was
in his cabin writing, and at once rushed out. But when he saw the
confederates and how matters stood and that the ship was already in
other hands, he at once surrendered and begged for his life. He reminded
Rawlins “how he had redeemed him from Villa Rise,” and that he had since
treated him with great consideration. Rawlins had to admit that this was
so, so he agreed to spare the captain his life. As before mentioned the
captain was an English renegade whose real name was Henry Chandler, he
being the son of a chandler in Southwark. So this man was brought back to
England, as well as John Goodale; Richard Clarke, gunner (_alias_ Jafar
in Turkish); George Cook, gunner’s mate (_alias_ Ramedam in Turkish);
John Browne (_alias_ Mamme in Turkish); and William Winter, ship’s
carpenter (_alias_ Mustapha in Turkish); “besides all the slaves and
Hollanders, with other renegadoes, who were willing to be reconciled to
their true Saviour, as being formerly seduced with the hopes of riches,
honour, preferment, and suchlike devilish baits to catch the souls of
mortal men and entangle frailty in the tarriers of horrible abuses and
imposturing deceit.”
The Englishmen now set to work and cleared the ship of the dead Moslem
bodies, and then Rawlins assembled his men and gave praise to God “using
the accustomed Service on shipboard; and, for want of books, lifted
up their voices to God, as He put into their hearts or renewed their
memories.” And after having sung a psalm, they embraced each other “for
playing the men in such a deliverance.” The same night they washed the
ship of the carnage, put every thing in order, repaired the broken
quarter which had been damaged by the explosion, set up the binnacle
again and made for England. On the 13th February the _Exchange_ arrived
at Plymouth, where they “were welcomed like the recovery of the lost
sheep, or as you read of a loving mother that runneth with embraces to
entertain her son from a long voyage and escape of many dangers.”
As for the Torbay bark, she too had got back to England, having arrived
at Penzance two days before. Her story is brief but not less interesting.
The mate had been informed of Rawlins’ plan, and he and his friends had
agreed. But the carrying out of this had been a far simpler and neater
matter than that which had taken place on the _Exchange_. For once again
mere landsmen had been fooled at the hands of seamen. It happened on this
wise. They made the Turks believe that the wind had now come fair and
that the prize was being sailed back to Algiers. This they believed until
they sighted the English shore, when one of the Turks remarked that “that
land is not like Cape St. Vincent.” To this the man at the helm replied
very neatly, “Yes; and if you will be contented and go down into the
hold, and turn the salt over to windward, whereby the ship may bear full
sail, you shall know and see more to-morrow.”
Suspecting nothing the five Turks then went quietly down. But as soon as
they had gone below into the hold, the renegadoes, with the help of two
Englishmen, nailed down the hatches and kept the rascals there till they
reached Penzance. But one of the other Turks was on deck, and at this
incident he broke out into great rage. This was but short-lived, for an
Englishman stepped up to him, dashed out his brains and threw his body
overboard.
All the other prisoners were brought safely to England and lodged either
in Plymouth gaol or Exeter, “either to be arraigned according to the
punishment of delinquents in that kind, or disposed of as the king
and council shall think meet.” We need not stop to imagine the joy of
welcoming back men who had been lost in slavery. We need not try to
guess the delight of the west-countrymen that at last some of these
renegadoes had been brought back to be punished in England. There is
not the slightest doubt of this story of the _Exchange_ being true, but
it shows that even in that rather disappointing age which followed on
immediately after the defeat of the Armada, there were, at a time when
maritime matters were under a cloud, not wanting English seamen of the
right stamp, men of courage and action, men who could fight and navigate
a ship as in the spacious days of Queen Elizabeth. Happily the type of
man which includes such sailor characters as Rawlins is not yet dead; the
Anglo-Saxon race still rears many of his calibre, and it needs only the
opportunity to display such nerve, daring enterprise and tactful action.