Read The Bounty: The True Story of the Mutiny on the Bounty Online

Authors: Caroline Alexander

Tags: #History, #Europe, #Great Britain, #Military, #Naval

The Bounty: The True Story of the Mutiny on the Bounty (44 page)

BOOK: The Bounty: The True Story of the Mutiny on the Bounty
10.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
 
Relieved at midnight by John Norton, he had turned below and slept until daylight, when Cole woke him to tell him the ship was taken.
 
“I hope, Mr. Morrison, you have no intention to join Christian’s party?” Cole asked.
 
“I answered him, ‘
No, Sir,
you may
depend
upon it, that I will
not;
for it is
far
from
my
intentions.’ ”
 
In its essential outline, Morrison’s account accorded with those already told. After speaking with Cole, he had hastened forward to the head, from where he had cautiously looked out to see the deck ringed with armed men. Bligh was standing between the guns guarded by Christian, who held a bayonet in one hand and had his other on Bligh’s shoulder.
 
Seeing for himself how things stood, Morrison went aft and again bumped into Cole, who asked him to help clear the cutter. After Purcell succeeded in obtaining the bigger launch, Morrison had turned his attention to clearing her. A hasty exchange with Fryer about attempting to retake the ship was interrupted by Quintal, who ordered Fryer back to his cabin. In the meantime, the launch had become so crowded with equipment and possessions “that those who
were
in her began to cry out that she would
sink
alongside if
any more
came into her.” From the deck, where he stood guarded, Bligh called out, “you can’t
all
go in the Boat,
my lads don’t
overload her, some of you
must
stay in the Ship.”
 
When, despite his pleas, Christian ordered Fryer into the boat, Morrison began “to reflect on my own Situation.” Like Heywood, he foresaw sure death if he joined the boat. Moreover, as he now told the court, he had witnessed “Mr. Fryer and Most of the Officers go into the boat without the least appearance of an effort to
rescue
the Ship.” He had been “heartily
rejoiced
” by Thomas Hayward’s hint “that he intended to knock Chal. Churchill down,” but when this intention fizzled out, he “gave over all hopes.” Morrison’s last act on behalf of his captain had been to hand into the boat some twenty-five pieces of pork and several gourds of water. Begging Christian for a musket for the men, he had been curtly refused, but had managed to obtain cutlasses, “two of which I handed in
my self
and Churchill bought the other two and said, ‘
There,
Captain Bligh! you
don’t
stand in Need of
fire arms
as you are Going among your
friends,
’ ” this last being a mocking reference to Bligh’s recent fraught dealings with the Friendly Islanders.
 
As the boat cast off, Morrison had heard Bligh “desire to speak to Mr. Christian but
he
gave Orders that
no person
should answer.”
 
This ended Morrison’s narration of events. The more important part of his defense—and that greatly looked forward to by the court spectators—still remained, the rebuttal of the specific charges made against him by Hayward and Hallett.
 
The first, and least serious, of these charges was Hayward’s claim that Morrison had looked “rejoiced,” not “depressed,” when he helped prepare the boat for Bligh. It was Morrison’s expression, Hayward told the court, that induced him to regard him as a mutineer.
 
“This Honorable Court knows that
all
men do not bear misfortunes with the
same
fortitude or equanimity of mind,” Morrison now countered, “and that the face is
too often
a bad index to the Heart.” Interestingly, he did not attempt to deny that he had worn a suspect expression on that day. Rather, as he told the court, he had deliberately dissembled “to deceive those, whose
Act
I abhorred, that I might be at liberty to
seize
the
first
Opportunity that
might
appear favourable, to the retaking of the Ship.” Bligh himself, Morrison pointed out, had allowed in his letter that he had erroneously thought “from the Carpenters
sullen
and
ferocious
aspect” that Purcell was a mutineer.
 
More damaging were the charges made by Hallett that Morrison had appeared at the taffrail under arms.
 
“Amidst such
Crowd, Tumult,
and
Confusion
might not the Arms in the hands of another wedged by my side
easily
be thought to be in
my possession
?” Morrison now asked passionately of the court. And why, if he had been a mutineer, would he have chosen to wield arms only after Bligh and his men “were placed in a
helpless situation
” and no use of arms was necessary? If after deliberation the members of the Honorable Court found “
any doubts
remain in
their
minds” respecting his innocence, Morrison reminded them that “it has always been Accounted the
Glory
of
Justice
in a
doubtful
Case to throw
Mercy
into the Ballance.”
 
Morrison turned to William Cole, the
Bounty
boatswain and his own immediate superior, to attempt to redress Hallett’s second damaging claim, that as the lumbered boat veered away, Morrison had called “in a jeering Manner, ‘If my friends enquire after me, tell them I am somewhere in the South Seas.’ ”
 
“Do you recollect,” Morrison now asked Cole, “hearing me make use of any sneering expressions—particularly over the Stern?”
 
“I heard him say that if anybody asked for him, to let them know that he was to the Southward of the Line or something to that Purport,” replied Cole, no doubt unexpectedly; clearly he was not going to be as cooperative in picking up hints from Morrison as he had been with Peter Heywood.
 
“Do you recollect that it was by the Clumsiness and Awkwardness of John Norton, that two or three Pieces of the Pork went overboard and that you damned his Clumsy Eyes, and shoved him away from receiving any more of it?” asked Morrison, furiously changing the subject.
 
“No, I do not remember it,” Cole replied, conceding, “I know three or four Pieces went overboard.” And when Morrison asked that his “Character at large” be told to the court, Cole had only compliments: “He was a Man of very good Character in the Ship; he was Boatswain’s Mate and steered the Captain he was attentive to his duty, and I never knew any harm of him in my life.”
 
Morrison’s last witness was William Purcell, who bluntly and briefly denied all that Hallett and Cole had said: he had never seen Morrison under arms, and he had never heard him use “jeering speeches.” Questioned by the court, Purcell elaborated. Yes, he had heard
someone
speak jeeringly from the stern, but he could not say who it had been. Like Cole and Fryer, Purcell gave Morrison a very good character, “diligent, and attentive.”
 
It would not appear that Morrison had effectively negated any of the most damaging charges against him; on the contrary, Cole had confirmed Hallett’s memory of his jeering speech. But the fact that a lowly boatswain’s mate had stood his ground with such consistent, unapologetic fearlessness made a favorable impression on the court.
 
“This ship appears to have abounded with men above the common herd of uninformed illiterates,” wrote the officer reporting on the trial, while singling out “the boatswain’s mate” for special commendation. Morrison’s clear, emphatic diction, his willingness to attack the most damaging charges head-on and his refusal to make maudlin appeals for mercy were impressive. The boatswain’s mate had addressed the superior officers who held his fate man to man—and this was admired.
 
 
 
Morrison’s highly ambiguous defense was followed by that of Charles Norman, carpenter’s mate, the third of the men generally held to be innocent. Just turned thirty-five, Norman had been baptized in the Holy Trinity Church at Gosport, across Portsmouth Harbour. From the boat that daily ferried him and his fellow prisoners between the
Hector
and the
Duke,
he was able to see his home; on calm, still nights he could hear the church’s bells. A Gosport baptism would suggest that his was a naval or seafaring family.
 
At five foot nine, tall and slender, Norman had light brown hair and fair skin pitted with the scars of smallpox. He had also, as Bligh had described, a “Remarkable Motion with his head and eyes,” suggestive of some kind of nervous tic.
 
Like Hayward and Hallett, Norman had shared Christian’s fateful watch. Sometime between five and six in the morning, Norman had been charged by Mr. Christian to “Coil up the Ropes on the quarter Deck.”
 
“When I had done I saw a large Shark alongside and call’d out, ‘There’s a Shark on the larboad quarter.’ ”
 
“Don’t make a noise,” Hayward said, while Hallett called out for a shark hook. Christian then reappeared and ordered Norman to “go aft and unship the Gangboard ready for Drawing water for washing Decks.” While Norman went aft, and Hayward and Hallett watched the shark, the mutiny took place. Norman saw Christian vanish down the fore hatchway and minutes later Churchill and four others armed and “loading as they Came Aft.
 
“. . . [I]n about two Minutes after Christian Came aft with a Drawn Cutlass in his hand and follow’d them down the Hatchway. I was standing by the Larboard Gangway and I heard Captain Bligh Call out, ‘What’s the matter, What’s the matter, Murder!’ ”
 
From below, Churchill called out “in terrible threats” for a line to bind Bligh, and John Mills, gunner’s mate, complied. Shortly after, Bligh was led up by Christian and Churchill; the captain’s “hands were tied and he was in his Shirt without any Breeches or Trowsers.” In these humiliating conditions, Bligh was placed between the guns, where Christian assumed guard.
 
“Churchill then Came to me With a Drawn Cutlass and Pistol and in a Commanding Voice ordered me to Clear the Yams out of the Small Cutter. I ask’d him for What, to which he replied ‘Do as I order you.’ ”
 
When this notorious, unseaworthy cutter was cleared, she was swung out and launched into the water with Norman still inside her. It was then he, more than anyone else, who had first appreciated just how useless the boat was.
 
“She was not long Out before I call’d out that she would sink if she was not hoisted in as I could not keep her free with bailing, her bottom being Eaten so much by the Worms.” Back on the ship, he assisted Purcell in preparing the bigger launch. He wanted to go with his captain, he told the court, but Christian gave orders that he, along with Coleman and McIntosh, was to remain on the ship.
 
“[O]n hearing this I was affraid to go over the side for fear of being Shot at, and I can solemnly swear before God and this Honorable Court that I was kept against my Own Consent and I told Mr. Hallet to remember me to my Wife and family.”
 
While the always unaccommodating Hallett could not, under examination, recall the last claim, Norman’s account was otherwise borne out not only by Purcell but by William Bligh. Back in March 1790, two weeks after Bligh’s return, Norman’s brother had written to Bligh and received a welcome response: His “unfortunate Brother” had been kept on the
Bounty
against his will, and Bligh had “recommended him to Mercy—his friends may therefore be easy in their Minds on his account,” Bligh concluded in this now all-timely letter, which was presented to the court, “as it is most likely he will return by the first ship that comes from Otaheite. He was in very good health.”
 
The court had no questions for Norman, a fact that in his case probably boded well, and he withdrew to make way for Thomas Ellison, able seaman.
 
Although he had stated his age as nineteen on the ship muster, Ellison had been between sixteen and seventeen when the mutiny occurred, and as his defense would show, he, like Heywood, would make a plea for his “youth and inexperience.” Stocky and stout at five foot three and “strong” made, as Bligh had noted, the youth was dark-haired and fair-skinned.
 
Ellison had come to the
Bounty
through the recommendation of Duncan Campbell, Bligh’s wealthy uncle-in-law, and had sailed with Bligh—and therefore with Christian—all those years ago in the West Indies, on the
Lynx
and the
Britannia,
both Campbell’s ships; or as Ellison put it, “both is ship.” With his dropping of
h
s, his
w
s for
v
s (“He being wex’d”), Ellison wrote as he spoke, and in doing so betrayed not only his cockney origins, but the fact that he had prepared his defense without mentoring or guidance. Who he was and how he had come to Campbell’s notice is not known. The
Bounty
muster lists him as being from “Deptford”; this dockyard community might have been his name or simply the port where he was mustered. That Campbell—and Bligh—looked out for the lad is evident from the affectionate comments Bligh had made in letters to his uncle-in-law on the
Bounty
’s outward journey: “Tom Ellison is improving [and] will make a very good seaman”; “Tom Ellison is a very good Boy and will do very well”; and more indulgently, “Tom Ellison [is] very well but is not a particle taller than when he left home but is fat as he can well be.” That the ship’s arrival in Tahiti represented a landmark in the boy’s life was evident from the single tattoo he bore on his right arm: his own name and “October 25th 1788,” the date on which the
Bounty
had sighted the island.
BOOK: The Bounty: The True Story of the Mutiny on the Bounty
10.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

A God in Every Stone by Kamila Shamsie
The Ghost Exterminator by Vivi Andrews
Star League 8 by H.J. Harper
Risen by Lauren Barnholdt, Aaron Gorvine
The Cowards by Josef Skvorecky
The Tree by Colin Tudge