The outrageous act of insubordination on open sea, known as “The Mutiny of the Bounty,” has proved, from the lasting interest it has excited, and from its extraordinary results, one of the most wonderful events in the annals of our navy. The memory of the foul crime has flourished, not only in tales, dramas, and poetry, but in the very good that Providence worked out of it. Pitcairn’s Island, where the mutineers and their descendants settled, and Norfolk Island, whither the latter have removed, are models of civilisation to the whole Polynesian world. In poetry, the Mutiny has been done the highest, and, indeed, the unfairest honour. Lord Byron’s magnificent production, “The Island; or, Christian and his Comrades,” has converted the guilty mutineers into a band of heroes; and his lordship, with a morbid taste for criminals of the corsair stamp, has thrown a glow of chivalry over deeds which deserved only the whipping post and the gallows. He, too, passes over, in a very few impressive lines, the great and real heroism of the whole affair—a heroism that deserved an Odyssey for its record. I allude to the conduct of Captain, afterwards Admiral, William Bligh, a seaman, illustrious in consequence, who, when his mutinous crew cast him and nineteen others adrift in an open boat, guided and cheered his associates with undaunted energy and perseverance, through a sail of more than 3,500 miles, until they arrived safe at the Dutch settlement, in the island of Timor, without losing more than one man. Lord Byron wrongfully compares with the Spartans of Thermopylæ, Christian and his comrades, who, with one or two exceptions, as they afterwards turned out, were murderous vagabonds merely. A far juster comparison would have been that of William Bligh and his companions in the open boat, with the unconquered spirits that defended the pass of Thermopylæ. The British navy ought well to be proud of the memory of Captain Bligh. Before proceeding to a summary of the mutiny, a word or two may be said biographically of the principal actors in the terrible transaction.

To begin with Bligh, a giant spirit in difficulty. He was a scion of the family to which belong the Earls of Darnley, and he was the grandson of Richard Bligh, Esq., of Tinten, near Bodmin, in Cornwall, and the son of William Bligh, Esq., by Jane, his wife. He was born at Bodmin in 1753, and received a home education. He went very early in life into the royal navy, and was soon remarked for his aptness and his steady and sensible performance of his duty. After passing his examination as lieutenant, he, on the understanding that his promotion should go on, went as sailing master, under Captain Cook, and was for four years with that great navigator, in the Resolution. In Cook’s history of his researches in the Southern Pacific, Bligh’s name frequently occurs. Bligh was a lieutenant when he was appointed to command the Bounty. He was a strict disciplinarian, but by no means a harsh or unamiable man. He would have his orders obeyed, but he, at the same time, was always studious of the comfort and happiness of the men under him. By his own family and by all his associates in his profession he was thoroughly beloved and respected.

Fletcher Christian, master’s mate on board the Bounty, and the chief and worst mutineer, was a man of good family and education, and had actually owed his advancement in the service to Captain Bligh. He was the brother of Professor Christian, Chief Justice of Ely, the well-known editor of “Blackstone’s Commentaries.”

Peter Heywood, a midshipman on board the Bounty, who joined the mutiny, and who, after being convicted and pardoned for it, redeemed his character and became a captain in the royal navy, was of a very respectable family, and was grandson of Mr. Heywood, Chief Justice of the Isle of Man. Peter Heywood was, no doubt, the Torquil of Lord Byron’s poem.

Edward Young, a midshipman, and another mutineer, was nephew of Admiral Sir George Young, Bart.

Alexander Smith, alias John Adams, the most remarkable of the mutineers, and afterwards the famous patriarch of Pitcairn’s Island, was a sailor of the ordinary class.

David Nelson, the botanist, a credit to his great name, who sailed with and shared the perils of Bligh, was a man of much scientific knowledge. He had been in Captain Cook’s last voyage, and was appointed to the Bounty on the recommendation of Sir Joseph Banks.

The circumstances of the mutiny were as follow:—

His Majesty’s ship Bounty, an armed vessel, was fitted out under the express desire of King George III., and sailed from England in the winter of 1787, commanded by Lieutenant Bligh, on a voyage to the Society Islands to gather bread-fruit trees, and to bring them for transplantation to the British West India settlements, in which climate, it was the opinion of Sir Joseph Banks, they might be successfully cultivated, and prove a succeedaneum for other provisions in times of scarcity.

The Bounty actually departed on its voyage from Spithead on the 23rd December, 1787, and after having to change its first intended course by Cape Horn for the Cape of Good Hope, arrived at Otaheite, the chief of the Society Islands, on the 25th October, 1788. Here Bligh and his crew were received in the most friendly way by the gentle inhabitants of the island, and here they passed a delightful but too enervating period of five months and a half. The worst of it was, the charms of the place proved too strong a temptation for the seamen of the Bounty. The women of Otaheite had fascinated them to a degree that deprived them of all sense of right or duty. Well might a locality in the island be termed “Point Venus.” The whole territory seemed a Paphos, for in no savage land had there before ever been found women so beautiful, so agreeable, and so affectionate. I have it from one of Captain Bligh’s descendants, that the captain always attributed the mutiny solely to the irresistible desire of the crew to return to the society of the Otaheite women.

Byron, in his poem, agrees with Bligh in this view, and thus depicts Otaheite:—

Byron’s description of the Otaheite girl, Neuha, gives a fair idea of the charms of the female population of Otaheite:—

A slight sign of a mutinous intention was shown at one time during the stay on the island. Charles Churchill, the ship’s corporal, and two seamen, William Musprat and John Millward, temporarily deserted; but, after some days’ search for them, they surrendered, and threw themselves on Bligh’s mercy. He generously, but not wisely, as it turned out, forgave them. Bligh had made good, however, the object of his voyage, so far as to have received on board a great number of the bread-fruit trees in various stages of growth, and there was every prospect of their being capable of preservation. The ship, thus laden, quitted Otaheite on the 4th of April, 1789, and continued her course in a westerly direction, touching at one more island, and then meditating her progress through the Pacific Ocean towards the Moluccas. The ship lost sight of the Friendly Islands on the 27th of that month, and everything like good order was supposed to prevail on board—even the mid-watch was relieved without the least apparent disorder; but at daybreak on the 28th, the cabin of Captain Bligh, who commanded the Bounty, was forcibly entered by the officer of the watch, Fletcher Christian, assisted by Churchill, Mills, and Burkitt, who dragged him instantly on the deck, menacing his life if he attempted to speak. His endeavour to exhort and bring back the conspirators to their duty proved of no avail. Each of the desperadoes was armed with a drawn cutlass or a fixed bayonet, and all their muskets were avowed to be charged.

Captain Bligh discovered, when he came upon deck, several of the crew and most of the officers pinioned; and while he was thus contemplating their perilous state, the ship’s boat was let over her side, and all who were not on the part of the conspirators, to the number of nineteen besides the captain, were committed to the boat, and no other nourishment afforded to them than about 140 lbs. of bread, 30 lbs. of meat, one gallon and a half of rum, a like portion of wine, and a few gallons of water. A compass and quadrant were secured by one of these devoted victims as he was stepping into the boat; and thus abandoned, the mutineers, after giving them a cheer, stood away, as they said, for Otaheite.^[17] The captain, in the dreadful situation, found his boatswain, carpenter, gunner, surgeon’s mate, with Mr. Daniel Nelson, the botanist, and a few inferior officers, amongst those who were likely to share his fate. After a short consultation, it was deemed expedient to put back to the Friendly Islands: and accordingly they landed on one of these, in hopes they might improve their small stock of provisions, on the 30th of April, but were driven off by the natives two days after, and pursued with such hostility that one man was killed and several wounded. It was then deliberated whether they should return to Otaheite and throw themselves on the clemency of the natives, but the apprehension of falling in with the Bounty determined them with one assent to make the best of their way to Timor; and to effect this enterprise—astonishing to relate!—they calculated the distance, near 4,000 miles, and in order that their wretched supply of provisions might endure till they reached the place of destination, they agreed to apportion their food to one ounce of bread and one gill of water a day for each man. No other nourishment did they receive till the 5th or 6th of June, when they made the coast of New Holland, and collected a few shell-fish; and with this scanty relief they held on their course to Timor, which they reached on the 12th, after having been forty-six days in a crazy, open boat, too confined in dimensions to suffer any of them to lie down for repose, and without the least awning to protect them from the rain, which almost incessantly fell for forty days. A heavy sea and squally weather for great part of their course augmented their misery. The governor of this settlement, which belonged to the Dutch, afforded them every succour they required. They remained here to recruit their strength and spirits till the 20th of August, when they procured a vessel to carry them to Batavia. They reached Batavia on the 2nd of October, and from thence Captain Bligh and two of the crew embarked for the Cape of Good Hope, and the rest of the crew were prepared to follow as soon as a passage could be obtained. Captain Bligh reached the Cape about the middle of December, and soon after took his passage for England, which he reached on the evening of the 13th of March, and arrived in London on the 14th. Bligh’s published narrative of this wonderful escape, the result of his own indomitable courage and perseverance, is a work elegantly written and full of the deepest interest. It well deserves a place by the side of the great fiction “Robinson Crusoe” and the true voyages of Captain Cook. Bligh’s own account of the landing at Timor is so graphic, that I cannot refrain from giving it here:—

“I now,” he writes, “desired my people to come on shore, which was as much as some of them could do, being scarce able to walk; they, however, were helped to the house, and found tea, with bread-and-butter, provided for their breakfast.

“The abilities of a painter, perhaps, could seldom have been displayed to more advantage, than in the delineation of the two groups of figures, which at this time presented themselves to each other. An indifferent spectator would have been at a loss which most to admire—the eyes of famine sparkling at immediate relief, or the horror of their preservers at the sight of so many spectres, whose ghastly countenances, if the cause had been unknown, would rather have excited terror than pity. Our bodies were nothing but skin and bones, our limbs were full of sores, and we were clothed in rags. In this condition, with the tears of joy and gratitude flowing down our cheeks, the people of Timor beheld us with a mixture of horror, surprise, and pity. The governor, Mr. William Adrian Van Este, notwithstanding extreme ill-health, became so anxious about us, that I saw him before the appointed time. He received me with great affection, and gave me the fullest proofs that he was possessed of every feeling of a humane and good man. Sorry as he was, he said, that such a calamity could ever have happened to us, yet he considered it was the greatest blessing of his life that we had fallen under his protection; and, though his infirmity was so great that he could not do the office of a friend himself, he would give such orders as I might be certain would procure us every supply we wanted. A house should be immediately prepared for me, and, with respect to my people, he said that I might have room for them either at the hospital or on board of Captain Spikerman’s ship, which lay in the road; and he expressed much uneasiness that Coupang (the Dutch capital in Timor) could not afford them better accommodations, the house assigned to me being the only one uninhabited, and the situation of the few families that lived at this place such that they could not conveniently receive strangers. For the present, till matters could be properly regulated, he gave directions that victuals for my people should be dressed at his own house.

“On returning to Captain Spikerman’s house, I found that every kind relief had been given to my people. The surgeon had dressed their sores, and the cleaning of their persons had not been less attended to, several friendly gifts of apparel having been presented to them. I desired to be shown to the house that was intended for me, which I found ready, with servants to attend. It consisted of a hall, with a room at each end, and a loft over-head, and was surrounded by a piazza, with an outer apartment in one corner, and a communication at the back part of the house to the street. I therefore determined, instead of separating from my people, to lodge them all with me, and I divided the house as follows:—One room I took to myself, the other I allotted to the master-surgeon, Mr. Nelson, and the gunner; the loft to the other officers, and the outer apartment to the men. The hall was common to the officers, and the men had the back piazza. Of this disposition I informed the governor, and he sent down chairs, tables, and benches, with bedding and other necessaries for the use of every one.

“The governor, when I took my leave, had desired me to acquaint him with everything of which I stood in need; but it was only at particular times that he had a few moments of ease, or could attend to anything, being in a dying state with an incurable disease. On this account I transacted whatever business I had with Mr. Timotheus Wanjon, the second of this place, who was the governor’s son-in-law, and who also contributed everything in his power to make our situation comfortable. I had been, therefore, misinformed by the seaman, who told me that Captain Spikerman was the next person in command to the governor.

“At noon a dinner was brought to the house, sufficiently good to make persons, more accustomed to plenty, eat too much. Yet, I believe, few in such a condition would have observed more moderation than my people did. My greatest apprehension was, that they would eat too much fruit, of which there was great variety in season at this time.

“Having seen every one enjoy this meal of plenty, I dined myself with Mr. Wanjon; but I felt no extraordinary inclination to eat or drink. Rest and quiet I considered as more necessary to the re-establishment of my health, and, therefore, retired soon to my room, which I found furnished with every convenience. But, instead of rest, my mind was disposed to reflect on our late sufferings, and on the failure of the expedition; but, above all, on the thanks due to Almighty God, who had given us power to support and bear such heavy calamities, and had enabled me at last to be the means of saving eighteen lives.”

All, however, did not live to reach England. David Nelson, the botanist, died at Coupang, of fever, brought on by fatigue. Elphinstone, the master’s mate, and two seamen, Hull and Linkletter, died at Batavia; Robert Lamb and Mr. Ledward, the surgeon, were lost on the return passage. “Thus,” concludes Bligh, “of nineteen who were forced by the mutineers into the launch, it has pleased God that twelve should surmount the difficulties and dangers of the voyage, and live to revisit their native country.”

To now return to the mutineers.

They, to the number of twenty-five, after getting rid of the captain and his adherents, sailed back, in the Bounty, to Otaheite, but on landing there, Christian and eight of his comrades, in dread of the offended majesty of the British Admiralty, sought a safer refuge in the neighbouring Pacific Island of Pitcairn. From what ensued, the names of Christian’s eight followers should be recorded. They were Edward Young, midshipman; John Mills, gunner’s mate; Matthew Quintal, seaman; William McCoy, seaman; Alexander Smith, otherwise John Adams, seaman; John Williams, seaman; Isaac Martin, seaman; and William Brown, gardener. When the Bounty reached Pitcairn’s Island she had on board these nine of the crew, with nine Otaheitan women; six Otaheitan men, three of whom had wives; and a little girl, who afterwards became the wife of Charles Christian, of the family of Fletcher. They burnt the Bounty after arriving at Pitcairn’s Island.

They had not, writes the Rev. Mr. Murray, in his admirable account of Pitcairn, long set foot on the island, ere it became a stage for the display of every evil passion. They were “hateful, and hating one another.” During the frightful period of domestic warfare between the Europeans and the blacks, in which the former often adopted the tremendously simple rule of might against right, the blacks made common cause together; and having planned the murder of their imperious masters, they went, from time to time, into the woods to practise shooting at a mark, and thus became tolerably good marksmen. Their murderous plot reached the ears of the wives of the mutineers; and the females are said to have disclosed it to their husbands, just before the time appointed for the massacre, by adding to one of their songs these words, “Why does black man sharpen axe? To kill white man.”

In the course of the deadly struggles occurring between the several parties, Christian, Mills, Williams, Martin, and Brown, were murdered in the year 1793, by the Otaheitan men, whom they had brought to the island with them. Christian was the first to fall a victim to their revenge. Mills was the next. Adams was shot, the ball entering at his shoulder and coming out at his neck. He fell; but suddenly sprang up and ran. They caught him; and a blow was aimed at his head with the butt-end of a musket. This he warded off with his hand, having his finger broken by the blow. On his again escaping, he ran down the rocks toward the sea; but his pursuers called out to him, that if he would return, he should not be hurt. He returned accordingly, and they troubled him no more. All the Otaheitan men were killed in the same year, one of them having been destroyed by Young’s wife, with an axe. As soon as she had killed the last survivor but one of the Otaheitans, she gave a signal to her husband to fire upon the remaining black, which was done with fatal precision. This woman, Susannah, who afterwards married Thursday October Christian, Fletcher Christian’s son, died at an advanced age, in the year 1850. She was the last survivor of the Bounty.

But other horrors remained behind. In 1798, M‘Coy, in a fit of delirium tremens, brought on by drunkenness, having thrown himself from the rocks into the sea, was drowned. Quintal, a violent and headstrong man, after threatening the lives of his companions, was killed by Young and Adams, who, in 1799, took away his life with an axe, in self-defence. Thus, six of the mutineers were murdered, and one committed suicide. Edward Young died of asthma, in 1800. Adams, as has been seen, was severely wounded in one of the contests that took place, but had recovered. Only two of the fifteen men who had landed from the Bounty (Young and Adams) died a natural death. The news of the mutiny and the sufferings of Bligh excited a great sensation in England. Bligh was at once made a commander; and Captain Edwards was forthwith dispatched to Otaheite, in Her Majesty’s ship Pandora, to search for the Bounty, and to arrest and bring back to England the mutinous crew. The Pandora reached Otaheite the 23rd March, 1791, and before the vessel anchored, Coleman, the armourer of the Bounty, came in a canoe, and gave himself up. Two days afterwards the whole of the crew of the Bounty, who had stayed at Otaheite, surrendered themselves, with the exception of two, who fled to the mountains, and were murdered by the natives.

After a tempestuous voyage and a shipwreck, in which four of his prisoners perished, Captain Edwards succeeded in bringing ten of the mutineers to England. These were tried by court-martial.

By the 15th article of war, statute 22 George II., cap. 33, every person in, or belonging to, the fleet, who shall run away with any of His Majesty’s ships or vessels of war, shall, on being convicted of such offence, by the sentence of the court-martial, suffer death; and by the 16th article of war of the same statute, every person in, or belonging to, the fleet, who shall desert or entice others to do so, shall suffer death, or such other punishment as the circumstances of the offence shall deserve, and a court-martial shall judge fit: and by the 19th article of war of the same statute, if any person in, or belonging to, the fleet, shall make, or endeavour to make, any mutinous assembly, upon any pretence whatever, every person offending herein, and being convicted thereof by the sentence of the court-martial, shall suffer death.

The court-martial in this case was held at Portsmouth, on board His Majesty’s ship Duke, on the 12th September, 1792. Vice-Admiral Lord Hood was the President. The officers who sat at the trial were Captains Sir A. S. Hamond, Bart., John Colpoys, Sir George Montagu, Sir Roger Curtis, John Bazeley, Sir Andrew S. Douglas, John T. Duckworth, John N. Inglefield, John Knight, Albemarle Bertie, (afterwards Admiral of the White, K.B., and a Baronet), and R. G. Keats.

The names of the ten prisoners, capitally charged with mutiny and piracy, were Peter Heywood, James Morrison, Thomas Ellison, Thomas Burkitt, John Millward, William Muspratt, Charles Norman, Joseph Coleman, Thomas M^cIntosh, and Michael Byrne.

The trial was concluded on the sixth day, the 18th of September, when the prisoners were brought in. The court having agreed that the charges of running away with the ship and deserting His Majesty’s service had been proved against six of the prisoners, they found Heywood, Morrison, Ellison, Burkitt, Millward, and Muspratt guilty, and adjudged them to suffer death by being hanged by the neck on board one of His Majesty’s ships-of-war. The court acquitted Norman, Coleman, McIntosh, and Byrne, and recommended Peter Heywood and James Morrison to His Majesty’s mercy.

On the 24th of October, 1792, the royal warrant was dispatched, granting a free pardon to Heywood (he died a captain, R.N., the 10th of February, 1831) and to Morrison, with a respite for Muspratt. At the same time was sent a warrant for executing Burkitt, Ellison, and Millward. Muspratt was afterwards pardoned. Millward and Muspratt, with Churchill, were the men who had been deserters at Otaheite, and who had been forgiven by Bligh for that offence. Burkitt had been forward in the mutiny on board the Bounty. Ellison was a mere boy on the occasion of that act of violence; he is thus described in the list forwarded from Batavia in October, 1789:—“Thomas Ellison, seaman, aged seventeen years, five feet three inches high, fair complexion, dark hair, strong made; has got his name tattooed on his right arm, and dated October 25, 1788.”

Morrison, before his connection with the Bounty, had served in the navy as a midshipman, and, after his pardon, had been appointed gunner of the Blenheim, in which he perished with Admiral Sir Thomas Troubridge. In a violent gale on the 1st of February, 1807, that vessel was lost, with all the passengers and crew on her way from Madras to the Cape of Good Hope.

Burkitt, Ellison and Millward were executed, pursuant to their sentence, on the 26th of October, 1792, on board the ship Brunswick, in Portsmouth Harbour. Captain Hammond reported that the criminals had behaved with great penitence and decorum, had acknowledged the justice of their sentence, and exhorted their fellow-sailors to take warning by their untimely fate, enjoining them, whatever might be their hardships, never to forget their obedience to their officers, but to remember the duty which they owed to their king and country. The captain said that a party from each ship in the harbour, and at Spithead, had attended the execution; and that from the accounts he had received, the example seems to have made a salutary impression on the minds of all the ships’ companies present.

More than sixteen years elapsed after that act of justice before aught more was heard of the remaining mutineers of the Bounty, when, in 1808, the captain of an American schooner, by chance wintering at Pitcairn’s Island, made the wonderful discovery thus narrated by himself:—

“We left the friendly Marquesans on the 2nd of September, and were proceeding on our voyage, to regain the port of Valparaiso, steering a course which ought, according to the charts, and every other authority, to have carried us nearly three degrees of longitude to the eastward of Pitcairn’s Island, our surprise was greatly excited by its sudden appearance; it was in the second watch that we made it. At daylight we proceeded to a more close examination, and soon perceived huts, cultivation, and people; of the latter, some were making signs, others launching their little canoes through the surf, into which they threw themselves with great dexterity, and pulled towards us.

“At this moment, I believe, neither Captain Bligh (of the Bounty) nor Christian had entered any of our thoughts; and in waiting the approach of strangers, we prepared to ask them some questions in the language of those people we had so recently left. They approached us; and for me to picture the wonder which was conspicuous in every countenance at being hailed in perfect English, ‘What was the name of the ship, and who commanded her?’ would be impossible; our surprise can alone be conceived. The captain answered, and now a regular conversation commenced. He requested them to come alongside, and the reply was, ‘We have no boat-hook to hold on by.’ ‘I will throw you a rope.’ ‘If you do we have nothing to make it fast to.’ was the answer. However, they at length came on board, exemplifying not the least fear, but their astonishment was unbounded. After the friendly salutation of ‘Good morrow, sir,’ from the first man who entered, Mackay, for that was his name, said, ‘Do you know one William Bligh in England?’ This question threw a new light on the subject, and he was immediately asked ‘If he knew one Christian?’ and the reply was given with so much natural simplicity, that I shall here use his own words: ‘Oh, yes,’ said he, ‘very well; his son is in the boat there, coming up; his name is Friday Fletcher October Christian; his father is dead now—he was shot by a black fellow.’ Several of them had now reached the ship, and the scene was become exceedingly interesting; every one betrayed the greatest anxiety to know the ultimate fate of that misled young man, of whose end so many vague reports had been in circulation, and those who did not ask questions, devoured with avidity every word which led to an elucidation of the mysterious termination of the unfortunate Bounty.

“Christian was shot by a black fellow—it was supposed through a jealousy which was known to exist between the people of Otaheite and the English; he was shot while at work in the yam plantation; the man who shot Christian was afterwards shot by an Englishman. A further dispute arose between the Otaheitans and English after the death of Christian, when the blacks rose and shot two Englishmen and wounded John Adams, the only surviving man of the mutineers, who saved himself from being murdered by hiding himself in the wood; and the same night the women, enraged by the murder of the English, to whom they were more partial than their countrymen, rose and put every Otaheitan to death in his sleep. This saved Adams. His wounds were soon healed; and, although old, he enjoys good health. Christian brought with him from Otaheite, in the Bounty, nine white men, six blacks, and eleven women; and at that time there were forty-eight persons on the island. Adams had told them he had been on the island about twenty-five years; that the Bounty was run on shore, and everything useful taken out of her, and then set fire to and burnt. Christian was shot about two years after he came to the island, his wife having died soon after the birth of his son; and he taking by force the wife of one of the blacks to supply her place, was the chief cause of his being shot; and his son, Friday Fletcher October Christian, was the oldest person on the island, except John Adams. They were allowed to marry at the age of nineteen or twenty, but not to have more than one wife, as it was considered wicked to have more; and being asked if they had been taught any religion, they answered, ‘A very good religion,’ and to their credit they went through the whole of the Belief, and said that John Adams had taught it them by order of F. Christian; and he caused a prayer to be said every day at noon: ‘I will arise and go to my father, and say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son,’ which they continued to say every day, and never neglected it.

“John Adams was a fine-looking old man, approaching to sixty years of age. We conversed with him a long time relative to the mutiny of the Bounty and the ultimate fate of Christian; he denied being accessary to, or having the least knowledge of, the conspiracy.

“He told me he was perfectly aware how deeply he was involved; that by following the fortune of Christian he had not only sacrificed every claim to his country, but that his life was the necessary forfeiture for such an act, and he supposed would be exacted from him was he ever to return. Notwithstanding all these circumstances, nothing would give him so much gratification as that of seeing once more, prior to his death, that country which gave him birth, and from which he had been so long estranged. There was sincerity in his speech; I can hardly describe it, but it had a very powerful influence in persuading me that these were his real sentiments. My interest was excited to so great a degree that I offered him a conveyance for himself and any of his family who chose to accompany him. He appeared pleased at the proposal, and, as no one was then present, he sent for his wife and children; the rest of the little community surrounded the door. He communicated his desire, and solicited their acquiescence. Appalled at a request not less sudden than in opposition to their wishes, they were all at a loss for a reply. His charming daughter, although inundated with tears, first broke silence. ‘Oh, do not, sir,’ said she, ‘take from me my father—do not take away my best, my dearest friend.’ Her voice failed her—she was unable to proceed; she leaned her head on her hand, and gave full vent to her grief. His wife, too (an Otaheitan), expressed a lively sorrow. The wishes of Adams soon became known among the others, who joined in pathetic solicitation for his stay on the island. Not an eye was dry; the big tears stood in those of the men; the women shed them in full abundance: I never witnessed a scene so fully affecting, or more replete with interest. To have taken him from a circle of such friends would have ill become a feeling heart; to have forced him away, in opposition to their joint entreaties, would have been an outrage to humanity. With an assurance that it was neither our wish nor intention to take him away against his inclination, their fears were at length dissipated. His daughter, too, had gained her usual serenity; but she was lovely in her tears, for each seemed to add an additional charm. Forgetting the unhappy deed which placed Adams in that spot, and seeing him only in the character he now is, at the head of a little community, adored by all, instructing all in religion, industry, and friendship, his situation might be truly envied, and one is almost inclined to hope that his unremitting attention to the government and morals of this extraordinary little colony, will ultimately form an equivalent for the part he formerly took.

“Several books belonging to Captain Bligh, which were taken out of the Bounty, were then in the possession of Adams, and the “First Voyage of Captain Cook” was brought on board the Briton. In the title-page of each volume the name of Captain Bligh was written, and I suppose in his own writing. Christian had written his own name immediately under it, without running his pen through, or in any way defacing, that of Captain Bligh. On the margin of several of the leaves were written, in pencil, numerous remarks on the work; but, as I consider them to have been the private remarks of Captain Bligh, and written unsuspecting the much-lamented event which subsequently took place, they shall by me be held sacred.”

From that time forward the colony at Pitcairn’s Island was again and again visited, and eventually became a continual subject of public interest. Adams remained its revered patriarch till 1829, when he died at the age of sixty-nine. The colony was afterwards admirably directed by the Rev. G. H. Nobbs, who, as chaplain of the Island, was ordained by the Rt. Rev. Dr. Bloomfield, bishop of London; and before returning to Pitcairn after his ordination he had an interview with the Queen and the Prince Consort, who both evinced the warmest and most cordial concern in the welfare and happiness of the colonists. As time went on and the numbers in the colony increased, Pitcairn’s Island became too small for their support, and they were, on their own wish, removed by Government to Norfolk Island, a lovely spot which had recently been given up as a convict settlement. I cannot better conclude this account of the Islanders than with the following interesting extract, which is from a letter written by Captain W. H. Denhem, of Her Majesty’s ship Herald, in charge of the survey in the South-Western Pacific Ocean, under date “Norfolk Island, 16th June, 1856,” having reference to the Pitcairn Islanders taking possession of their new settlement, Norfolk Island:—

“On the morning of the 31st instant, having arranged with Lieut. John Hutchinson and Mr. J. W. Smith, assistant-surveyors, in regard to completing the survey of the island and its inlets, together with lines of soundings to the edge of the bank upon its surrounding aspects, in connection with our survey of last year, I effected a landing.

“Looking to the date of the transport Morayshire, which left Sydney under the instructions of his Excellency the Governor-General and of Captain Stephen G. Fremantle, to bring the Pitcairn Island community to this island, I had reason to expect them every day. And as the presence of one of Her Majesty’s ships at the new home of that interesting people would doubtlessly cheer them, as well as afford them essential aid in landing and organising, on the one hand, whilst as simultaneously as possible clearing the island of its residue as a penal settlement (upon all of which points and general views I was cognizant of the wishes of the Government), I became solicitous of being on the spot. I therefore had only to hope that the transport would arrive before my primary object in taking Norfolk Island en route, to the Polynesian Islands could be accomplished.

“Fortunately, on Sunday the 8th instant, although a gloomy and boisterous day, with considerable surf, the Morayshire not only closed with the island, but being joined by the Herald, and assisted by a tracing of our survey, she took up a favourable position for disembarkation, and by sunset the Pitcairn community, numbering 194 persons, were comfortably housed as well as landed without accident. I was invited to their first evening Church service at their new home, when a special thanksgiving was rendered unto God for the preservation vouchsafed, and His guidance implored in the new era they had just entered upon. It was an exemplary manifestation of habitual piety that would not allow fatigue, amounting with many to almost exhaustion, nor that excitement in the robust at the extreme novelty of matters around them, to interfere with their wonted primary duty in life; on the contrary, these artless, self-denying people, seemed to gather physical comfort and energy as they responded to our beautiful Church Service, rendered the more touchingly so by their admirable chanting, as they listened patiently and devoted to the well-adapted exhortation of their reverend pastor and counsellor, the Rev. George Hunn Nobbs. This gentleman could not rest until he had explained to me the pervading gratitude which the arrangements for the transit and reception of his flock had excited.

“To the manner in which Acting-Lieut. Gregorie managed their embarkation, so that every moveable article, even to the ‘gun’ and ‘anvil’ of the Bounty, has been transferred; to the accommodating spirit in which the master of the transport followed out his undertaking on a five weeks’ passage, during which the most tender treatment was necessary for alarming cases of sea-sickness that ceased not from island to island, including a birth which took place; and finally, to the joyful sight of one of the Queen’s ships, in whose boats, under Lieut. John Hutchinson, of the Herald, and in the separate charge of Messrs. Nixon, Howard, and Nugent, they were landed, while the commissariat officer and myself greeted them individually as they set foot on shore, and conducted them to the comfortably-prepared quarters, until they made their own selections from the ample dwellings erected for them, may be attributed the happy accomplishment of an event so vitally important to this peculiar community, in conformity with the deep interest taken in them by Her Majesty and the Government.

“The ensuing week has been successfully employed in landing all the seventy years’ gathering of chattels belonging to the Pitcairners, notwithstanding the precarious seaboard of this island, causing the ships to put to sea every night. They could, therefore, duly observe yesterday’s Sabbath in the fitted-up church they had seen, and in which the sacrament was most impressively administered to us, together with every adult of the new congregation—a privilege I can never forget. Another solemnity marked this Sabbath, which, by our attending, assuaged the general depression which their first mourning visit to the cemetery was calculated to inflict; it being their custom for the whole of the community to attend each funeral. In the present case it was to inter a female infant, which had been embarked in a most delicate state, but had survived the voyage, though beyond medical relief when placed under the care of one of my medical officers, Mr. Denis Macdonald, in whose arms, as a slight consolation to its parents, it expired.

“Adverting to Pitcairn Island, future voyagers may find fresh beef there, as its late settlers left a bull and nine cows upon it. The pigs were destroyed, lest they might, in time, break through the fence and disturb the graveyard.”

A word or two remain to be said about Bligh. His subsequent career was also one of public distinction: he was made a post-captain, and went on a second and successful voyage, with the same object as the first, to Otaheite. He was absent on it at the time of the court-martial. In 1797 the Admiralty employed him to go among the mutineers of the Nore, to endeavour to call the misguided men to a sense of duty; he behaved on the occasion with great courage and discretion. In 1801 Bligh commanded the Glatton, at the battle of Copenhagen, under Lord Nelson, and was publicly thanked by his Lordship after the action. He was subsequently Governor of New South Wales, and became finally a Vice-Admiral of the Blue. He died in Bond-street, London, on the 7th December, 1817, and was interred in the churchyard of St. Mary’s, Lambeth, where a tomb has been erected to his memory. Admiral Bligh married, at Douglas, Isle of Man, Elizabeth, daughter of Richard Beetham, LL.D., Comptroller of the Customs, Isle of Man, by his wife, Miss Campbell, daughter of Principal Campbell, of Glasgow College. (Dr. Beetham was a contemporary at college of David Hume, Adam Smith, and Lord Selkirk, and an intimacy was kept up between them in after-life.)

Admiral Bligh, by his marriage, had two sons, who died in infancy, and six daughters, one of whom only, Miss Jane Bligh, still survives. Three of the daughters were married—viz., 1. Harriet, who married Henry Barker, Esq., of Willsbridge, and left issue; 2. Mary, who married, first, Lieutenant Putland, of the family of Putland, of Brayhead, in the county of Wicklow, by whom she had no issue; and secondly, Lieutenant-General Sir Maurice O’Connell, K.C.H., and by him left Lieutenant-Colonel R. O’Connell, R.A., and other issue; 3. Elizabeth, who married Richard Bligh, Esq., barrister-at-law, and left issue.

I cannot conclude without expressing how very much I am indebted in the above particulars to the work entitled, “Pitcairn: the Island, the People, and the Pastor,” by the Rev. Thomas Boyles Murray, M.A., which has had merited success, and which deserves even still more extensive perusal.

The mutiny of the Bounty is an event that should be a solemn warning to every seaman in the navy, showing, as it does, the magic power of discipline, and the misery of insubordination. Bligh, and those who adhered to him, were preserved for nearly 4,000 miles in an open boat by the mere maintenance of discipline; while Christian and most of his guilty comrades, though having an armed vessel of war in their absolute power, perished miserably, because they had forsaken that system of duty and obedience which is the life-spring and the sacred safeguard of their profession.