 |
|
Bligh and his
loyalists being cut adrift in the open boat by the Bounty mutineers
in this early 19th Century lithograph. A man on board the ship is show throwing
a cutlass to the outstretched arms of one of the men in the boat. The
four naval swords were the only protective weapons the Bligh and his men were allowed.
|
Old
habits die hard. Like browsing through the daily almanac feature on Wikipedia
for blog post inspiration. I
was reminded that on April 28, 1789 crew
members on the HMS Bounty under the leadership
Fletcher Christian, a young
gentleman serving as an unpaid
volunteer with the functional status
of a warrant officer and mate, mutinied against their captain, Royal Navy Lt. William Bligh. Bligh,
an officer who had sailed under James
Cook and was already a veteran captain of tropical voyages to the Caribbean
and South Seas, and several loyal crewmen we set adrift with scant
supplies in an open launch. The mutiny and its aftermath would become one of the great sea yarns of all time.
What
has this to do with poetry? say you.
Plenty, says I. It inspired verse almost from the
beginning, including an effort by Bligh himself in one of his several literary attempts to clear his reputation. In 1823 no less a figure than George Gordon, Lord Byron himself
published a fictionalized and highly romanticized account in a mini-epic poem The Island. Since that
time the story and it characters have inspired dozens of renderings by bards, balladeers, and poets down to contemporary hip-hop rappers.
The
Bounty, a small three masted, square rigged former
collier—a veritable lumbering tub—had been purchased by the
Royal Navy especially for an unusual mission—to bring a cargo of breadfruit trees
from Tahiti to the West Indies where they were hoped to
become a cheap source of food for slaves on sugar plantations. Mature breadfruit trees produced scores of
large, pulpy and starchy fruit yearly with very little
care required in moist tropical climates. They were a staple of the Polynesian
diet and had been spread by those far
ranging people across the South
Pacific.
An
Admiralty temporarily between wars with plenty of experienced officers and crews available could engage in such economic missions. Bligh, then 43, was recalled to active duty
with the Royal Navy after a few years as a commercial
master in the Caribbean trade, in
1787 especially for this mission.
Earlier, he had been sailing
master on Captain James Cook’s third and final voyage of exploration in the
South Seas. When Cook was killed, Bligh
returned home to England in command of his ship, the HMS Resolution and made
his final report to the Admiralty. No
one in the service was a better fit for the mission.
 | |
| Lt. William Bligh from the frontpiece of his own account of the mutiny and his open boat voyage to safety. |
Bligh
handpicked many of the crew,
including former shipmates from the Resolution.
He also added a young gentleman, Fletcher Christian with whom he had made three voyages in the
Caribbean. Bligh had taken to Christian
and the two had developed a master/apprentice relationship. They younger man aspired to a Royal Navy
career and studied navigation under
Bligh. He did not have the family connections or the money to buy an appointment as a midshipman,
so Fletcher, like a few others came aboard as civilian volunteers. Some were listed and paid as able bodied seamen. On board, however, they were treated as
regular midshipmen and junior officers.
Christian rose during the voyage to become virtual First Mate, although the once close relationship between the two
men soured.
The
rest of the crew was typical of the Royal Navy at the time. There were a handful of old salts but much of the crew was made up of hapless young men
swept up by Navy press gangs in England, shanghaied while drunk or drugged—virtually kidnapped. Such men on voyages that could last years
were always a ticking time bomb. The notoriously
harsh discipline of the Royal Navy, including floggings to the edge of
death—and sometimes beyond—for even trifling
offences, was considered necessary
to keep crews under control.
Bligh,
although a strict commander with a quick temper, was not considered a
particularly brutal officer. In fact log
books show that he employed the lash far less frequently than almost any other
commander in the service. Later, one of
the few complaints of his conduct as captain of the Bounty by his brother
officers was that the eventual mutiny would never have occurred if he
had “earned the respect and fear of the
men” by more frequent floggings. He
could, however, lash men with vicious
tongue, dishing out humiliations
that seemed worse than physical
injury. As their relationship
deteriorated on the long voyage, Christian often felt that wrath and scorn.
The
voyage to Tahiti took a full year from October 1787 to October 1788. Bligh’s rigorous demand for hygiene, strict
attention to a healthy diet for
the crew, a three watch system that
left the crew better rested than the Royal Navy’s usual four watches with
officers and crews going on and off duty every four hours, and restrained physical punishment resulted
in an exceptionally fit crew and
good moral. Contrary winds prevented Bligh from
following Cook’s route around Cape Horn so
the ship had to cross the South Atlantic to pass the Cape of Good Hope into the Indian
Ocean. There were layovers for provisions and repairs
at False Bay east of the Cape and at
Adventure Bay on Tasmania.
At
Tahiti Bligh established friendly relations with the local chief, who
remembered him being with Cook 15 years earlier. After gifts
of assorted trade goods, Bligh
asked only for young breadfruit trees, which grew with abundance on the
island. For the Tahitians it was like
trading away sand. Christian was put in
charge of a shore party and established a camp near the main village. For more than five months work went into to
gathering, potting, and loading on board more than 1000 young trees. Much of that work was done by the
natives.
 |
| The Bounty's crew found Tahitian women and their seemingly casual acceptance of multiple partners irresistible. However modern anthropologists believe that all was not a consensual as myth would have it. The local chief directed/allowed some of his women to engage in sex with the visitors as part of trade practices and not all of the women offered may have been willing. There is also evidence of both rape and abuse by the seamen. A few relationships like Christians were established. This 1782 portrait of Poedua, daughter of Orea, King of Ulietea by John Webber illustrates the allure of Polynesian women. |
Meanwhile
both those living ashore and those birthing on board had plenty of leisure
time. Almost everyone spent it with the
women, whose culture was sexually accommodating. Many took multiple partners others settled in
with a single companion. Christian did
both, eventually taking up with Mauatua,
to whom he gave the name Isabella
after a former sweetheart. After a few months, almost all of the
shore party and many on board were diagnosed
and treated for venereal disease, which was rife among the natives. That included Christian.
Bligh,
although he did not participate,
took a tolerant view of the hijinks until it began to take a toll
of work performance. The longer the crew
stayed, the worse it got. As it became
clear that the ship was ready to sail, three men tried to desert in a small boat but
were captured, returned, and
flogged. When the ship finally sailed on
April 4, 1789 moral was low but no
one expected a mutiny.
But
Bligh was now hypercritical of the
performance of his crew and junior officers.
Christian was the target of the most abuse and was driven to consider jumping overboard and committing suicide. Things came
to a head when Bligh accused him
of stealing from his personal stash of coconuts. Christian considered trying to desert on a raft but two of the acting midshipmen
convinced him that the crew would be with him if he stayed with the ship and
seized control.
On
April 29 Christian and part of the crew seized Bligh and bound him in his cabin.
Christian was surprised when less than half of the crew actively
supported him. Although no one
resisted—the small ship did not have a complement
of Royal Marines to protect the
Captain and suppress mutiny—many swore allegiance to Bligh and others tried to
remain neutral. After a period of
confusion, Christian decided to put the Captain and two or three of his
strongest supporter over the side in the ship’s small dory. Other clamored to be
included. Eventually he had to allow the
launch, the largest of the ship’s three boats be used. Bligh was joined by 18 other men. Four men with special skills were kept on
board with a promise to be released in Tahiti.
Other loyalists or neutrals were also onboard since the launch was
dangerously overloaded. Bligh and his
men were given about a week’s worth of
food and water and Bligh was allowed some navigational instruments. As the ship cut the boat loose, four cutlasses were thrown down for
protection against hostile natives should them men reach an island.
Christian
had a reduced compliment of 25 men on board the Bounty, almost half of them not active participants in the
mutiny. With a sense of doom, he set
sail for Tahiti assuming that Bligh and the others, thousands of miles from a
safe port were doomed.
But
Bligh was one of the great navigators in the British Navy and his discipline of
his crew paid off. He strictly rationed
the food and water—enough daily to barely sustain life. Some rainfall was captured and a few fish were landed. He set sail first to the relatively nearby
island of Tofua to lay in more
supplies. The natives there were at
first friendly but quickly became
hostile. Bligh barely got his men
off the island when an attack killed
one man. After that the captain decided
to avoid other inhabited islands until he could reach the nearest European
outpost—Timor in the Dutch East Indies about 3,500 nautical or 4000 statute miles. The boat was
at sea most of the next 45 days at sea.
After crossing thousands of miles of open waters, the boat sailed up the
coast of Australia and the Great
Barrier Reef before finally reach a Dutch outpost at Coupang harbor on the island of Timor on June 14. He had lost only the one man to hostile
action.
But
at Coupang and in the festering Dutch capital of Batavia, several men died of disease—likely malaria and being weakened by
starvation. Bligh and four of his most
loyal crew caught a ship for England to which he finally returned on March 14,
1790. He was hailed as a hero for his
epic journey in the small boat. He was
officially brought to court martial in
October but quickly acquitted by a sympathetic court in October. He was promoted to Captain at last and given command of the HMS Providence with orders to complete his breadfruit. He sailed in August of 1791.
 |
| Bounty Bay of Pitcairn Island with the wreckage of the burnt and scuttled ship in the foreground |
Christian
and the Bounty sailed for Tahiti,
arriving at that island on September 22, 1789.
They found the natives far less welcoming than before and the crew was
badly split between Bligh loyalists, Christian’s supporters, neutrals, and men
who simply wanted to debauch themselves
in Tahiti. 15 men voted to stay on the
island. Christian and 8 followers, and
one loyalist detained for his skill as an armorer,
decided to flee to greater safety.
After inviting several Tahitians, including several women and children
on board for a feast, he quietly cut anchor and sailed away, essentially
kidnapping the Tahitians. They decided
to seek refuge on a remote island south east of Tahiti not on any British
charts. After a long search they found
deserted Pitcairn Island in January
1790. The Bounty was stripped of
everything useful and burned to
prevent its discovery by the Royal Navy.
The mixed group of mutineers and Tahitians settled into an uneasy
community, despite nearly ideal conditions.
Fletcher and Isabella gave birth to a son, Thursday October Christian. Other
children were born. But there were
jealousies over the remaining women and the Tahitian men resented the
mutineers. In September 1793 some of the
Tahitian men made a coordinated attack on the Europeans. Christian and four others were hacked to
death. The four surviving Englishmen
also eventually fell out. One was
murdered by the others.
Eventually
only one mutineer, John Adams,
remained alive. But he was finally able
to bring harmony to the surviving community, taught religion and letters to
the children and built a stable, even thriving community. The Royal Navy finally accidentally discovered
the colony in 1808, deciding to take no action against Adams.
The
men on Tahiti also fared poorly. They
soon divided into two hostile groups, one made up largely of Bligh loyalists
who tried to maintain some discipline and order, and the other of
debauchers. One drunkenly murdered
another who was then killed by the dead man’s Tahitian friends. At least one
“went native” adopting local dress, learning the language and customs, and
getting Polynesian tattoos over much
of his body.
Meanwhile
the Admiralty had dispatched the HMS Pandora,
under Captain Edward Edwards, to
capture the mutineers and return them to England to stand trial. The ship arrived at Tahiti on March 23, 1791, and within a few days all 14
surviving Bounty men had either surrendered or been captured. Edwards made no distinction between loyalists
and mutineers, decided to bring them all back in chains to face court
martial. On the return voyage the Pandora ran aground on the Great Barrier Reef. In the confusion one escaped with other non-Bounty prisoners and four drowned. The remaining men were bound for yet another
long open boat trip to Coupang. They reached England on June 19, 1792 and
faced court martial in September.
Bligh,
who had promised to vouch for the
loyal men, was still absent on the second breadfruit expedition. Testimony included revelations and allegations of
Bligh’s behavior that began to swing public
sentiment against him. Even many
formerly staunchly supportive Navy officers turned. Radical
Whigs now took up the missing Christian as a hero against tyranny and cast the mutineers along the lines of the liberators of the Bastille. Tories
worried that they would become revolutionary
rallying cries.
At
the court martial the testimony of four of the men that they were loyal men
detained by Christian went unchallenged and they were acquitted. Testimony by
survivors of Bligh’s open boat went against the others, two of whom maintained their innocence and offered their voluntary
surrender to the Pandora as evidence of their good intentions. But the court found all of the remaining six men
guilty and sentenced them to hang with
recommendations of mercy for the two men who maintained
their innocence. Those men were
ultimately pardoned by King George
III. One of the men obtained a stay
of execution and ultimately was reprieved
and pardoned. The remaining three, all common seamen with no family connections and who were too poor for legal representation were hung at Portsmouth on October 28, 1792. The Whig press charged that “money had bought
the lives of some, and others fell sacrifice to their poverty.”
Fletcher
Christian’s brother, a prominent jurist, published the proceedings of
the court, much of it critical of Bligh along with an Appendix of other
accounts that tended to vindicate Fletcher and vilify Bligh. Bly responded with his own book, long in
preparation, A Voyage to the South Sea Undertaken by Command of His Majesty: For the
Purpose of Conveying Bread-Fruit Trees to the West Indies. Although the account of his open boat voyage
won back some lost support, Bligh’s reputation was never the same. In the wake of the Court Martial report and Appendix the Admiralty let Bligh sit on the beach without a command.
Eventually
Bligh found enough support to be given a ship.
In the next few years he commanded ever larger and heavier war ships carrying more guns with each new assignment. In 1796
while in command of the 64 gun HMS Defiant his crew joined in the
broad Spithead Mutiny involving 16
ships in protests over the treatment,
pay, and conditions of common seamen.
It was more like an industrial
strike than a traditional mutiny.
The shocked Royal Navy actually met
most demands and promised pardons
to the mutineers.
The
next year Bligh and the Defiant were
at the Nore, an anchorage in
the Thames when another mass mutiny
broke out. This one lacked the unity of
Spithead and many ships and crews slipped away from the mutineers only to be fired upon by them. A blockade
of London was attempted. Demands
were expanded to include an immediate peace
with France—considered proof that the mutineers were republican revolutionaries. Eventually
the mutiny failed when its leader, Richard
Parker hoisted a signal for the mutinous ships to sail for France. This was a step to far toward treason and
most ships refused to sail. The mutiny
was crushed by loyal ships and Parker arrested and hung. 29 others were hanged, 29 were imprisoned,
and 9 flogged, while others were sentenced to transportation to Australia.
In
neither of these mutinies was any action or abuse by Bligh cited as a reason
for the insurrection. He was only peripherally involved at Spithead. At the Nore when he re-gained control of his
ship and crew, he was engaged in action against the mutineer. But his presence at both mutinies re-enforced
the public image of him.
Bligh
did enjoy successes, however. On October
11 the Defiant, back on war sea duty engaged three Dutch ships at the Battle of Camperdown, defeating them, and capturing one prize with
the Dutch admiral on board. In 1801 at the Battle of Copenhagen Bligh and his 56-gun ship of the line HMS Glatton
were specifically cited by Admiral Horatio Nelson for a leading
part in the victory.
 |
| In this pro-rebellion primative painting New South Wales Gov. Bligh is depicted as being arrested by troops while hiding under his bed, something that almost surely did not happen. |
In
1805 Bligh’s reputation as a disciplinarian earned him an extraordinary appointment—Royal
Governor of New South Wales with
an annual income of £2000, a fortune. When Bligh arrived in Sydney his old imperiousness, sharp tongue, demand to instant obedience quickly put him at odds with both influential and wealthy
local planters and the officers off
the New South Wales Corps. When he attempted to suppress a long established but
illegal rum trade by Army officers
and key settlers, the 400 soldiers of the New South Wales Corps under the
command of Major George Johnston
marched on Government House in Sydney and arrested and deposed Bligh. A rebel
government was established. Bligh sailed
on the HMS Porpoise to Hobart in
Tasmania seeking support for move to re-assert control. The authorities there refused to get involved
and Bligh was kept a virtual prisoner on the Porpoise for two years.
Finally,
in January 1810 he got word from
London that the rebellion had been declared illegal and a mutiny. Bligh returned to Sydney to gather
evidence for Johnston’s Court Martial but was never restored to his position. He returned to England aboard the Porpoise with the new rank of Commodore. Although Johnston
was convicted of mutiny, he was only cashiered
from the service and allowed to return to Sydney to resume his lucrative business dealings. The lightness of the sentence was a slap
in the face to Bligh.
He
did get further promotions, first to Rear
Admiral and then to Vice Admiral of
the Blue, but he never again got a significant sea command. His last duties were preparing navigation
charts and making improvements to the sea wall and removal of sand bars in Dublin’s River Liffey—an important but unglamorous assignment.
Bligh
died in London on December 17, 1817 at the age of 63 and he was buried in a
family plot under a monument capped by
a carved breadfruit.
 |
| The book that cemented the images of Bligh and Christian. |
A
few years later Lord Byron portrayed him as a not quite irredeemable villain to Fletcher Christian’s dashing hero in his The
Island. Most subsequent accounts
have followed that interpretation. Most
notably Charles Nordhoff’s and James Norman Hall’s 1932 international Best Seller Mutiny
on the Bounty. That became the
first of the Bounty Trilogy which also included Men Against the Sea about
Bligh’s open boat sail to safety and Pitcairn’s Island. The Bounty story had already been filmed in a 1916 silent version and in 1933 an Australian
dram/documentary hybrid starring the very young Errol Flynn as Christian was released.
But
mighty MGM bought the rights to Nordhoff and Hall’s book for
their 1933 classic Mutiny on the Bounty staring Charles Laughton as Bligh, Clark
Gable as Christian, and Franchot Tone
as a midshipman and Christian’s best friend. Laughton’s Bligh was a memorable ogre and Gable always a hero. In 1962 the studio revisited the Bounty in a Super Panavision wide screen epic famously starring Marlon Brando as Christian and Trevor Howard as Bligh. It is best remembered for behind the scenes as Brando hijacked
the production, ran up production costs astronomically,
and went native involving himself
with and eventually marrying his Tahitian
leading lady. The film was a critical and box office flop
which nearly killed the most prestigious
studio in Hollywood history.
 |
| Even today, for most of us Clark Gable and Charles Laughton are Fetcher Christian and William Bligh. |
In
1982 a version of the story not based on Nordhoff and Hall’s book was brought
to the screen after nearly a decade in
development by director David Lean. The
Bounty instead was based on the revisionist
Captain Bligh and Mr. Christian by
Richard Hough which took a much more
sympathetic view of Bligh without excusing him his faults. It was originally intended to be made into
two films, one covering the voyage of the Bounty,
Tahitian layover, mutiny, and Christian’s attempt to find safety for his
followers and the other on Bligh’s open boat sail. Lean wanted completely historically accurate
film and had a full scale replica of the Bounty constructed even before the script was completed. Warner
Bros., fearing a money-pit disaster like MGM’s second effort, withdrew funding for the film forcing
Lean to jam two films into one. A search
for a new backer ended with Italian producer Dino De Laurentiis,
who was best known for big, splashy
films. During pre-production the
original screen writer, Robert Bolt suffered
a stroke and was unable to finish the script,
which was finished by journeyman
writer and BBC presenter Melvyn
Bragg.
Lean
completed the casting including Anthony
Hopkins as Bligh, and rising Australian star Mel Gibson as
Christian. Conflicts with De Laurentiis caused
Lean, the most acclaimed British
director of his generation, to drop out.
Gibson had enough clout with
the producer to bring on his friend Roger Donaldson who had no experience
on such an epic film. The production shot on location in Australia,
Tahiti, and London was plagued with production problems, especially un-cooperative weather. But somewhat amazingly, it came in under budget.
The
film opened to wildly mixed reviews. Some praised it for its accuracy and for
showing how the Tahitian, far from living as idealic children of nature were exploited and abused by
the Bounty crew and mutineers. They also appreciated showing that Bligh and
Christians were friends and started out with an almost father/son relationship that some though had homoerotic undertones. Other
critics found the script a mess and felt that Gibson lacked the charisma of Gable and Brando. Gibson thought the film was a failure
because it was not revisionist enough.
It still tried to cling to Christian as a hero and Bligh as a villain,
at least until he redeems himself in
the open boat.
In the old
version, Captain Bligh was the bad guy and Fletcher Christian was the good guy.
But really Fletcher Christian was a social climber and an opportunist. They
should have made him the bad guy, which indeed he was. He ended up setting all
these people adrift to die, without any real justification. Maybe he’d gone
island crazy. They should have painted it that way. But they wanted to
exonerate Captain Bligh while still having the dynamic where the guy was
mutinying for the good of the crew. It didn’t quite work.
The film had
some success at European film festivals and
did moderately well at the box office but
was not the blockbuster that De
Laurentiis counted on.
And, as Gibson
predicted, it was not enough to rescue Bligh from the image of a tyrant still
etched in the public mind by the powerful performance of Charles Laughton all
those years before.
Here are two of
the early poems—Bligh’s apologia and Byron’s Romance—that fixed the story in
the public mind.
Captain’s Log -
22.23
27th
April 1789 –
How subtle did
the harmony of quill,
against this
parchment drenched of one disdain,
afford to not
subside or whether still,
the crew as one,
a nightfall weather vain.
A time when
fluid ounce became a quart,
if asked if fury
raged when keenest sought,
the splendour
being close to chivalry,
forgets the
golden rule, “no rivalry” ...
What melody is
this when moonlight mesh,
compares with
fragrance from the one besides,
inventiveness to
steer their wanton fresh
Tahiti's beauty
more than makes resides,
enough of this
abatement to prowess,
that goods and
things like this are duly kept,
but women? Oh,
but no I say, have leapt.
Endearing as
they are, my eyes have closed,
enough to see
for sorrow, their desire,
what innocense
there was have I disclosed
the passion of
the crew is close to fire!
Delirious a
thought attaches stealth,
as mighty as
those cargoes found elope,
maintain to
course the survey as we’d hope
would honey
sweet the rage review one’s wealth?
Capstan to the
turn of wind behind,
sets sail
amongst what rapture petals do
those women with
their anthers in pursue,
of frolic did
intentions seek their kind?
Incredible if
blameless few could stay,
delicious even -
thinking I, as them
could entertain
good fortune with dismay
returning
without slender to condemn.
(hesitates)
... look back as often will a candid pry,
if all let loose
on board the Bounty, high
from issues due
to those left fresh deny,
with delicate
annoyance. ~ Captain Bligh.
—William
Bligh
 |
| Lord Byron. |
The Island
Canto
I
I.
The morning
watch was come; the vessel lay
Her course, and
gently made her liquid way;
The cloven
billow flashed from off her prow
In furrows
formed by that majestic plough;
The waters with
their world were all before;
Behind, the
South Sea's many an islet shore.
The quiet night,
now dappling, ‘gan to wane,
Dividing
darkness from the dawning main;
The dolphins,
not unconscious of the day,
Swam high, as
eager of the coming ray;
The stars from
broader beams began to creep,
And lift their
shining eyelids from the deep;
The sail resumed
its lately shadowed white,
And the wind
fluttered with a freshening flight;
The purpling
Ocean owns the coming Sun,
But ere he
break- a deed is to be done.
II.
The gallant
Chief within his cabin slept,
Secure in those
by whom the watch was kept:
His dreams were
of Old England’s welcome shore,
Of toils
rewarded, and of dangers o'er;
His name was
added to the glorious roll
Of those who
search the storm-surrounded Pole.
The worst was
over, and the rest seemed sure,
And why should
not his slumber be secure?
Alas! his deck
was trod by unwilling feet,
And wilder hands
would hold the vessel’s sheet;
Young hearts,
which languished for some sunny isle,
Where summer
years and summer women smile;
Men without country,
who, too long estranged,
Had found no
native home, or found it changed,
And, half
uncivilised, preferred the cave
Of some soft
savage to the uncertain wave-
The gushing
fruits that nature gave untilled;
The wood without
a path- but where they willed;
The field o’er
which promiscuous Plenty poured
Her horn; the
equal land without a lord;
The wish- which
ages have not yet subdued
In man- to have
no master save his mood
The earth, whose
mine was on its face, unsold,
The glowing sun
and produce all its gold;
The Freedom
which can call each grot a home;
The general
garden, where all steps may roam,
Where Nature
owns a nation as her child,
Exulting in the
enjoyment of the wild
Their shells,
their fruits, the only wealth they know,
Their
unexploring navy, the canoe
Their sport, the
dashing breakers and the chase;
Their strangest
sight, an European face
Such was the
country which these strangers yearned
To see again- a
sight they dearly earned.
III.
Awake, bold
Bligh! the foe is at the gate!
Awake! awake!-
Alas! it is too late!
Fiercely beside
thy cot the mutineer
Stands, and
proclaims the reign of rage and fear.
Thy limbs are
bound, the bayonet at thy breast;
The hands, which
trembled at thy voice, arrest;
Dragged o'er the
deck, no more at thy command
The obedient
helm shall veer, the sail expand;
That savage
Spirit, which would lull by wrath
Its desperate
escape from Duty’s path,
Glares round
thee, in the scarce believing eyes
Of those who
fear the Chief they sacrifice:
For ne’er can
Man his conscience all assuage,
Unless he drain
the wine of Passion- Rage.
IV.
In vain, not
silenced by the eye of Death,
Thou call’st the
loyal with thy menaced breath
They come not;
they are few, and, overawed,
Must acquiesce,
while sterner hearts applaud.
In vain thou
dost demand the cause: a curse
Is all the
answer, with the threat of worse.
Full in thine
eyes is waved the glittering blade,
Close to thy
throat the pointed bayonet laid.
The levelled
muskets circle round thy breast
In hands as
steeled to do the deadly rest.
Thou dar’st them
to their worst, exclaiming- “Fire!”
But they who
pitied not could yet admire;
Some lurking
remnant of their former awe
Restrained them
longer than their broken law;
They would not
dip their souls at once in blood,
But left thee to
the mercies of the flood.
V.
“Hoist out the
boat!” was now the leader’s cry;
And who dare
answer “No!” to Mutiny,
In the first
dawning of the drunken hour,
The Saturnalia
of unhoped-for power?
The boat is
lowered with all the haste of hate,
With its slight
plank between thee and thy fate;
Her only cargo
such a scant supply
As promises the
death their hands deny;
And just enough
of water and of bread
To keep, some
days, the dying from the dead:
Some cordage,
canvass, sails, and lines, and twine,
But treasures
all to hermits of the brine,
Were added
after, to the earnest prayer
Of those who saw
no hope, save sea and air;
And last, that
trembling vassal of the Pole-
The feeling
compass- Navigation’s soul.
VI.
And now the
self-elected Chief finds time
To stun the
first sensation of his crime,
And raise it in
his followers- “Ho! the bowl!”
Lest passion
should return to reason’s shoal.
“Brandy for
heroes!” Burke could once exclaim-
No doubt a
liquid path to Epic fame;
And such the
new-born heroes found it here,
And drained the
draught with an applauding cheer,
“Huzza! for
Otaheite!” was the cry.
How strange such
shouts from sons of Mutiny!
The gentle
island, and the genial soil,
The friendly
hearts, the feasts without a toil,
The courteous
manners but from nature caught,
The wealth
unhoarded, and the love unbought; sic
Could these have
charms for rudest sea-boys, driven
Before the mast
by every wind of heaven?
And now, even
now prepared with others' woes
To earn mild
Virtue’s vain desire, repose?
Alas! such is
our nature! all but aim
At the same end
by pathways not the same;
Our means- our
birth- our nation, and our name,
Our fortune-
temper- even our outward frame,
Are far more
potent o’er our yielding clay
Than aught we
know beyond our little day.
Yet still there
whispers the small voice within,
Heard through
Gain’s silence, and o’er Glory's din:
Whatever creed
be taught, or land be trod,
Man’s conscience
is the Oracle of God.
—George
Gordon, Lord Byron
