Chapter 7

July 10. Spoke a brig from Rio, bound to Norfolk. Weather hazy,
with a light baffling wind from the eastward. To-day Hartman
Rogers died, having been attacked on the eighth with spasms after
drinking a glass of grog. This man was of the cook’s party, and
one upon whom Peters placed his main reliance. He told Augustus
that he believed the mate had poisoned him, and that he expected,
if he did not be on the look-out, his own turn would come
shortly. There were now only himself, Jones, and the cook
belonging to his own gang—on the other side there were five. He
had spoken to Jones about taking the command from the mate; but
the project having been coolly received, he had been deterred
from pressing the matter any further, or from saying any thing to
the cook. It was well, as it happened, that he was so prudent,
for in the afternoon the cook expressed his determination of
siding with the mate, and went over formally to that party; while
Jones took an opportunity of quarrelling with Peters, and hinted
that he would let the mate know of the plan in agitation. There
was now, evidently, no time to be lost, and Peters expressed his
determination of attempting to take the vessel at all hazards,
provided Augustus would lend him his aid. My friend at once
assured him of his willingness to enter into any plan for that
purpose, and, thinking the opportunity a favourable one, made
known the fact of my being on board. At this the hybrid was not
more astonished than delighted, as he had no reliance whatever
upon Jones, whom he already considered as belonging to the party
of the mate. They went below immediately, when Augustus called to
me by name, and Peters and myself were soon made acquainted. It
was agreed that we should attempt to retake the vessel upon the
first good opportunity, leaving Jones altogether out of our
councils. In the event of success, we were to run the brig into
the first port that offered, and deliver her up. The desertion of
his party had frustrated Peters’ design of going into the
Pacific—an adventure which could not be accomplished without a
crew, and he depended upon either getting acquitted upon trial,
on the score of insanity (which he solemnly avowed had actuated
him in lending his aid to the mutiny), or upon obtaining a
pardon, if found guilty, through the representations of Augustus
and myself. Our deliberations were interrupted for the present by
the cry of, “All hands take in sail,” and Peters and Augustus ran
up on deck.

As usual, the crew were nearly all drunk; and, before sail could
be properly taken in, a violent squall laid the brig on her
beam-ends. By keeping her away, however, she righted, having
shipped a good deal of water. Scarcely was everything secure,
when another squall took the vessel, and immediately afterward
another—no damage being done. There was every appearance of a
gale of wind, which, indeed, shortly came on, with great fury,
from the northward and westward. All was made as snug as
possible, and we laid-to, as usual, under a close-reefed
foresail. As night drew on, the wind increased in violence, with
a remarkably heavy sea. Peters now came into the forecastle with
Augustus, and we resumed our deliberations.

We agreed that no opportunity could be more favourable than the
present for carrying our designs into effect, as an attempt at
such a moment would never be anticipated. As the brig was snugly
laid-to, there would be no necessity of manoeuvring her until
good weather, when, if we succeeded in our attempt, we might
liberate one, or perhaps two of the men, to aid us in taking her
into port. The main difficulty was the great disproportion in our
forces. There were only three of us, and in the cabin there were
nine. All the arms on board, too, were in their possession, with
the exception of a pair of small pistols which Peters had
concealed about his person, and the large seaman’s knife which he
always wore in the waistband of his pantaloons. From certain
indications, too—such, for example, as there being no such thing
as an axe or a handspike lying in their customary places—we began
to fear that the mate had his suspicions, at least in regard to
Peters, and that he would let slip no opportunity of getting rid
of him. It was clear, indeed, that what we should determine to do
could not be done too soon. Still the odds were too much against
us to allow of our proceeding without the greatest caution.

Peters proposed that he should go up on deck, and enter into
conversation with the watch (Allen), when he would be able to
throw him into the sea without trouble, and without making any
disturbance, by seizing a good opportunity, that Augustus and
myself should then come up, and endeavour to provide ourselves
with some kind of weapons from the deck, and that we should then
make a rush together, and secure the companion-way before any
opposition could be offered. I objected to this, because I could
not believe that the mate (who was a cunning fellow in all
matters which did not affect his superstitious prejudices) would
suffer himself to be so easily entrapped. The very fact of there
being a watch on deck at all was sufficient proof that he was
upon the alert,—it not being usual except in vessels where
discipline is most rigidly enforced, to station a watch on deck
when a vessel is lying-to in a gale of wind. As I address myself
principally, if not altogether, to persons who have never been to
sea, it may be as well to state the exact condition of a vessel
under such circumstances. Lying-to, or, in sea-parlance,
“laying-to,” is a measure resorted to for various purposes, and
effected in various manners. In moderate weather it is frequently
done with a view of merely bringing the vessel to a stand-still,
to wait for another vessel or any similar object. If the vessel
which lies-to is under full sail, the manoeuvre is usually
accomplished by throwing round some portion of her sails, so as
to let the wind take them aback, when she becomes stationary. But
we are now speaking of lying-to in a gale of wind. This is done
when the wind is ahead, and too violent to admit of carrying sail
without danger of capsizing; and sometimes even when the wind is
fair, but the sea too heavy for the vessel to be put before it.
If a vessel be suffered to scud before the wind in a very heavy
sea, much damage is usually done her by the shipping of water
over her stern, and sometimes by the violent plunges she makes
forward. This manoeuvre, then, is seldom resorted to in such
case, unless through necessity. When the vessel is in a leaky
condition she is often put before the wind even in the heaviest
seas; for, when lying-to, her seams are sure to be greatly opened
by her violent straining, and it is not so much the case when
scudding. Often, too, it becomes necessary to scud a vessel,
either when the blast is so exceedingly furious as to tear in
pieces the sail which is employed with a view of bringing her
head to the wind, or when, through the false modelling of the
frame or other causes, this main object cannot be effected.

Vessels in a gale of wind are laid-to in different manners,
according to their peculiar construction. Some lie-to best under
a foresail, and this, I believe, is the sail most usually
employed. Large square-rigged vessels have sails for the express
purpose, called storm-staysails. But the jib is occasionally
employed by itself,—sometimes the jib and foresail, or a
double-reefed foresail, and not unfrequently the after-sails, are
made use of. Foretopsails are very often found to answer the
purpose better than any other species of sail. The Grampus was
generally laid-to under a close-reefed foresail.

When a vessel is to be laid-to, her head is brought up to the
wind just so nearly as to fill the sail under which she lies when
hauled flat aft, that is, when brought diagonally across the
vessel. This being done, the bows point within a few degrees of
the direction from which the wind issues, and the windward bow of
course receives the shock of the waves. In this situation a good
vessel will ride out a very heavy gale of wind without shipping a
drop of water, and without any further attention being requisite
on the part of the crew. The helm is usually lashed down, but
this is altogether unnecessary (except on account of the noise it
makes when loose), for the rudder has no effect upon the vessel
when lying-to. Indeed, the helm had far better be left loose than
lashed very fast, for the rudder is apt to be torn off by heavy
seas if there be no room for the helm to play. As long as the
sail holds, a well modelled vessel will maintain her situation,
and ride every sea, as if instinct with life and reason. If the
violence of the wind, however, should tear the sail into pieces
(a feat which it requires a perfect hurricane to accomplish under
ordinary circumstances), there is then imminent danger. The
vessel falls off from the wind, and, coming broadside to the sea,
is completely at its mercy: the only resource in this case is to
put her quietly before the wind, letting her scud until some
other sail can be set. Some vessels will lie-to under no sail
whatever, but such are not to be trusted at sea.

But to return from this digression. It had never been customary
with the mate to have any watch on deck when lying-to in a gale
of wind, and the fact that he had now one, coupled with the
circumstance of the missing axes and handspikes, fully convinced
us that the crew were too well on the watch to be taken by
surprise in the manner Peters had suggested. Something, however,
was to be done, and that with as little delay as practicable, for
there could be no doubt that a suspicion having been once
entertained against Peters, he would be sacrificed upon the
earliest occasion, and one would certainly be either found or
made upon the breaking of the gale.

Augustus now suggested that if Peters could contrive to remove,
under any pretext, the piece of chain-cable which lay over the
trap in the stateroom, we might possibly be able to come upon
them unawares by means of the hold; but a little reflection
convinced us that the vessel rolled and pitched too violently for
any attempt of that nature.

By good fortune I at length hit upon the idea of working upon the
superstitious terrors and guilty conscience of the mate. It will
be remembered that one of the crew, Hartman Rogers, had died
during the morning, having been attacked two days before with
spasms after drinking some spirits and water. Peters had
expressed to us his opinion that this man had been poisoned by
the mate, and for this belief he had reasons, so he said, which
were incontrovertible, but which he could not be prevailed upon
to explain to us—this wayward refusal being only in keeping with
other points of his singular character. But whether or not he had
any better grounds for suspecting the mate than we had ourselves,
we were easily led to fall in with his suspicion, and determined
to act accordingly.

Rogers had died about eleven in the forenoon, in violent
convulsions; and the corpse presented in a few minutes after
death one of the most horrid and loathsome spectacles I ever
remember to have seen. The stomach was swollen immensely, like
that of a man who has been drowned and lain under water for many
weeks. The hands were in the same condition, while the face was
shrunken, shrivelled, and of a chalky whiteness, except where
relieved by two or three glaring red blotches like those
occasioned by the erysipelas: one of these blotches extended
diagonally across the face, completely covering up an eye as if
with a band of red velvet. In this disgusting condition the body
had been brought up from the cabin at noon to be thrown
overboard, when the mate getting a glimpse of it (for he now saw
it for the first time), and being either touched with remorse for
his crime or struck with terror at so horrible a sight, ordered
the men to sew the body up in its hammock, and allow it the usual
rites of sea-burial. Having given these directions, he went
below, as if to avoid any further sight of his victim. While
preparations were making to obey his orders, the gale came on
with great fury, and the design was abandoned for the present.
The corpse, left to itself, was washed into the larboard
scuppers, where it still lay at the time of which I speak,
floundering about with the furious lurches of the brig.

Having arranged our plan, we set about putting it in execution as
speedily as possible. Peters went upon deck, and, as he had
anticipated, was immediately accosted by Allen, who appeared to
be stationed more as a watch upon the forecastle than for any
other purpose. The fate of this villain, however, was speedily
and silently decided; for Peters, approaching him in a careless
manner, as if about to address him, seized him by the throat,
and, before he could utter a single cry, tossed him over the
bulwarks. He then called to us, and we came up. Our first
precaution was to look about for something with which to arm
ourselves, and in doing this we had to proceed with great care,
for it was impossible to stand on deck an instant without holding
fast, and violent seas broke over the vessel at every plunge
forward. It was indispensable, too, that we should be quick in
our operations, for every minute we expected the mate to be up to
set the pumps going, as it was evident the brig must be taking in
water very fast. After searching about for some time, we could
find nothing more fit for our purpose than the two pump-handles,
one of which Augustus took, and I the other. Having secured
these, we stripped off the shirt of the corpse and dropped the
body overboard. Peters and myself then went below, leaving
Augustus to watch upon deck, where he took his station just where
Allen had been placed, and with his back to the cabin
companionway, so that, if any of the mate's gang should come up,
he might suppose it was the watch.

As soon as I got below I commenced disguising myself so as to
represent the corpse of Rogers. The shirt which we had taken from
the body aided us very much, for it was of singular form and
character, and easily recognizable—a kind of smock, which the
deceased wore over his other clothing. It was a blue stockinett,
with large white stripes running across. Having put this on, I
proceeded to equip myself with a false stomach, in imitation of
the horrible deformity of the swollen corpse. This was soon
effected by means of stuffing with some bedclothes. I then gave
the same appearance to my hands by drawing on a pair of white
woollen mittens, and filling them in with any kind of rags that
offered themselves. Peters then arranged my face, first rubbing
it well over with white chalk, and afterward blotching it with
blood, which he took from a cut in his finger. The streak across
the eye was not forgotten and presented a most shocking
appearance.