by Oliver Optic
CHAPTER XIV.
MUTINY.
"To be a hero, stand or fall, Depends upon the man; Let all then in their duty stand, Each point of duty weigh, Remembering those can best command Who best know to obey."--DIBDIN.
It is terrible to think and to remember that about this time our countrywas in the greatest danger of being conquered and lost through mutiny.Of all evils that can befall a navy this is surely the worst.
There was a mutinous spirit in the fleet of Sir John Jervis after thebattle of St. Vincent, which the gallant knight used all his endeavoursto quell. He was a brave and most energetic officer, and not only did hehave the good of his country at heart, but he spared no effort to renderthose who served under him happy and comfortable. I do not refer to theofficers only, but to the men as well. One would not be far wrong insaying that he knew almost every man in the fleet. He loved his people,and liked to have them happy, going among them, and even suggestinggames and amusements. Those were the days of tossing cans, and ofSaturday nights at sea, and the drinking of the healths of wives andsweethearts. So long as the men kept sober, Jervis rather liked this,and was never better pleased than when, on the last evening of the week,he heard the voices of the men raised in song, or the squeaking of themerry fiddle and gleesome flute.
But Sir John would have discipline, etiquette, and dress.
Jack Mackenzie was never more honoured nor pleased than when he andM'Hearty were asked to dine with the admiral on board the flagship, the_Victory_. Sir John was jovial, nay, even jolly. Jack was shy, but hehad to talk, and much to his own surprise soon found himself as much athome in the admiral's society as he would have been in that of his ownfather.
As for M'Hearty, nothing put that good fellow out, and at the admiral'srequest he gave a very graphic account indeed of his doings in thecockpit on the day of the battle. Sir John laughed heartily when thedoctor wound up seriously with the words, "But, dear Sir John, I _was_thirsty."
To have seen this admiral to-night, no one would have believed that hehad that day signed the death-warrant of the ringleader of the mutineerson board the _Marlborough_. But so it was, and to-morrow he should die.
It was on board the _Marlborough_ that the mutiny had found a hot-bed.It was on board the _Marlborough_ that Sir John determined this manshould be hanged, hoisted up by the hands of his own messmates, whom hisseditious eloquence had seduced from duty's path.
It was a stern resolve. The captain of the _Marlborough_ had come onboard to beg that the man might be executed in some other ship. Hismessmates, he averred, would never hang him, but would break at once outinto open mutiny. This officer was dismissed to his ship with one of theseverest reprimands ever administered to any captain in his majesty'sservice.
Down below, in a darksome cabin of the cockpit of the _Victory_, Jackwent to see an old shipmate of his, a boatswain who had been with himin the _Ocean Pride_. He was wounded, but recovering, and was delightedto have a visit from one he had known as a mere boy.
And not far from this gloomy cabin was the cell in which the unhappy manwas confined who next morning early should pay the penalty for hisinsubordination. Jack just caught one glimpse of his gray unhappy face,in which his dark eyes gleamed like living coals. That face haunted himin his dreams throughout the livelong night.
He saw that face again next morning, as the man was being taken to theship to be hanged _by his messmates_. The same gray, cadaverous hue, thesame dark and stony stare. "Had he a wife," Jack wondered, "or a sisterthat loved and cared for him, or prattling children who would never seetheir sailor 'daddy' more?" Oh, the sadness of it!
The whole fleet witnessed that punishment from rigging and decks. Everyprecaution was taken to insure its being carried out. Captain Campbellof the _Blenheim_ superintended. Launches armed with carronades wereranged near the _Marlborough_, and the orders they had were to open fireat once upon the rebellious ship if the men refused obedience, or daredto open a port, and, if need be, to sink her with all hands, in presenceof the fleet.
But see! the trembling wretch stands out upon the cat-head, the awfulrope around his neck. The end is rove through a block in the fore-yardarm, and taken down and round the deck, so that every man may help topull.
Bang! A great gun is fired from the flagship. The sound thrills throughevery heart, and every eye is turned towards the _Marlborough's_cat-head. The rope trembles, is tightened, and finally--there is an end.
The mutiny is nipped in the bud, and the fleet is saved.
But thus it must ever be. Mutiny is a monster that must be crushed bythe iron heel of force, ere yet it is fully hatched.
* * * * *
Jack was not sorry when all was over and the boats returned to theirrespective ships. To relieve his mind he went to see Murray. The poorboy smiled feebly, and held out his white worn hand to clasp that ofJack.
"I've been thinking of home, and my little sweetheart, sir."
"Have you a little sweetheart?"
"Yes; look!"
He took out a miniature from his breast--one of the sweetest young facesJack had ever seen.
"That is why I don't want to die, sir."
Jack heaved a sigh. But after this all the spare time he had he passedby the side of young Murray's cot. And now came the terrible bombardmentof Cadiz.
