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<h2> CHAPTER 7 </h2>
<p>JULY 10. Spoke a brig from Rio, bound to Norfolk. Weather hazy, with a
light baffling wind from the eastward. To-day Hartman Rogers died, having
been attacked on the eighth with spasms after drinking a glass of grog.
This man was of the cook's party, and one upon whom Peters placed his main
reliance. He told Augustus that he believed the mate had poisoned him, and
that he expected, if he did not be on the look-out, his own turn would
come shortly. There were now only himself, Jones, and the cook belonging
to his own gang—on the other side there were five. He had spoken to
Jones about taking the command from the mate; but the project having been
coolly received, he had been deterred from pressing the matter any
further, or from saying any thing to the cook. It was well, as it
happened, that he was so prudent, for in the afternoon the cook expressed
his determination of siding with the mate, and went over formally to that
party; while Jones took an opportunity of quarrelling with Peters, and
hinted that he would let the mate know of the plan in agitation. There was
now, evidently, no time to be lost, and Peters expressed his determination
of attempting to take the vessel at all hazards, provided Augustus would
lend him his aid. My friend at once assured him of his willingness to
enter into any plan for that purpose, and, thinking the opportunity a
favourable one, made known the fact of my being on board. At this the
hybrid was not more astonished than delighted, as he had no reliance
whatever upon Jones, whom he already considered as belonging to the party
of the mate. They went below immediately, when Augustus called to me by
name, and Peters and myself were soon made acquainted. It was agreed that
we should attempt to retake the vessel upon the first good opportunity,
leaving Jones altogether out of our councils. In the event of success, we
were to run the brig into the first port that offered, and deliver her up.
The desertion of his party had frustrated Peters' design of going into the
Pacific—an adventure which could not be accomplished without a crew,
and he depended upon either getting acquitted upon trial, on the score of
insanity (which he solemnly avowed had actuated him in lending his aid to
the mutiny), or upon obtaining a pardon, if found guilty, through the
representations of Augustus and myself. Our deliberations were interrupted
for the present by the cry of, "All hands take in sail," and Peters and
Augustus ran up on deck.</p>
<p>As usual, the crew were nearly all drunk; and, before sail could be
properly taken in, a violent squall laid the brig on her beam-ends. By
keeping her away, however, she righted, having shipped a good deal of
water. Scarcely was everything secure, when another squall took the
vessel, and immediately afterward another—no damage being done.
There was every appearance of a gale of wind, which, indeed, shortly came
on, with great fury, from the northward and westward. All was made as snug
as possible, and we laid-to, as usual, under a close-reefed foresail. As
night drew on, the wind increased in violence, with a remarkably heavy
sea. Peters now came into the forecastle with Augustus, and we resumed our
deliberations.</p>
<p>We agreed that no opportunity could be more favourable than the present
for carrying our designs into effect, as an attempt at such a moment would
never be anticipated. As the brig was snugly laid-to, there would be no
necessity of manoeuvring her until good weather, when, if we succeeded in
our attempt, we might liberate one, or perhaps two of the men, to aid us
in taking her into port. The main difficulty was the great disproportion
in our forces. There were only three of us, and in the cabin there were
nine. All the arms on board, too, were in their possession, with the
exception of a pair of small pistols which Peters had concealed about his
person, and the large seaman's knife which he always wore in the waistband
of his pantaloons. From certain indications, too—such, for example,
as there being no such thing as an axe or a handspike lying in their
customary places—we began to fear that the mate had his suspicions,
at least in regard to Peters, and that he would let slip no opportunity of
getting rid of him. It was clear, indeed, that what we should determine to
do could not be done too soon. Still the odds were too much against us to
allow of our proceeding without the greatest caution.</p>
<p>Peters proposed that he should go up on deck, and enter into conversation
with the watch (Allen), when he would be able to throw him into the sea
without trouble, and without making any disturbance, by seizing a good
opportunity, that Augustus and myself should then come up, and endeavour
to provide ourselves with some kind of weapons from the deck, and that we
should then make a rush together, and secure the companion-way before any
opposition could be offered. I objected to this, because I could not
believe that the mate (who was a cunning fellow in all matters which did
not affect his superstitious prejudices) would suffer himself to be so
easily entrapped. The very fact of there being a watch on deck at all was
sufficient proof that he was upon the alert,—it not being usual
except in vessels where discipline is most rigidly enforced, to station a
watch on deck when a vessel is lying-to in a gale of wind. As I address
myself principally, if not altogether, to persons who have never been to
sea, it may be as well to state the exact condition of a vessel under such
circumstances. Lying-to, or, in sea-parlance, "laying-to," is a measure
resorted to for various purposes, and effected in various manners. In
moderate weather it is frequently done with a view of merely bringing the
vessel to a stand-still, to wait for another vessel or any similar object.
If the vessel which lies-to is under full sail, the manoeuvre is usually
accomplished by throwing round some portion of her sails, so as to let the
wind take them aback, when she becomes stationary. But we are now speaking
of lying-to in a gale of wind. This is done when the wind is ahead, and
too violent to admit of carrying sail without danger of capsizing; and
sometimes even when the wind is fair, but the sea too heavy for the vessel
to be put before it. If a vessel be suffered to scud before the wind in a
very heavy sea, much damage is usually done her by the shipping of water
over her stern, and sometimes by the violent plunges she makes forward.
This manoeuvre, then, is seldom resorted to in such case, unless through
necessity. When the vessel is in a leaky condition she is often put before
the wind even in the heaviest seas; for, when lying-to, her seams are sure
to be greatly opened by her violent straining, and it is not so much the
case when scudding. Often, too, it becomes necessary to scud a vessel,
either when the blast is so exceedingly furious as to tear in pieces the
sail which is employed with a view of bringing her head to the wind, or
when, through the false modelling of the frame or other causes, this main
object cannot be effected.</p>
<p>Vessels in a gale of wind are laid-to in different manners, according to
their peculiar construction. Some lie-to best under a foresail, and this,
I believe, is the sail most usually employed. Large square-rigged vessels
have sails for the express purpose, called storm-staysails. But the jib is
occasionally employed by itself,—sometimes the jib and foresail, or
a double-reefed foresail, and not unfrequently the after-sails, are made
use of. Foretopsails are very often found to answer the purpose better
than any other species of sail. The Grampus was generally laid-to under a
close-reefed foresail.</p>
<p>When a vessel is to be laid-to, her head is brought up to the wind just so
nearly as to fill the sail under which she lies when hauled flat aft, that
is, when brought diagonally across the vessel. This being done, the bows
point within a few degrees of the direction from which the wind issues,
and the windward bow of course receives the shock of the waves. In this
situation a good vessel will ride out a very heavy gale of wind without
shipping a drop of water, and without any further attention being
requisite on the part of the crew. The helm is usually lashed down, but
this is altogether unnecessary (except on account of the noise it makes
when loose), for the rudder has no effect upon the vessel when lying-to.
Indeed, the helm had far better be left loose than lashed very fast, for
the rudder is apt to be torn off by heavy seas if there be no room for the
helm to play. As long as the sail holds, a well modelled vessel will
maintain her situation, and ride every sea, as if instinct with life and
reason. If the violence of the wind, however, should tear the sail into
pieces (a feat which it requires a perfect hurricane to accomplish under
ordinary circumstances), there is then imminent danger. The vessel falls
off from the wind, and, coming broadside to the sea, is completely at its
mercy: the only resource in this case is to put her quietly before the
wind, letting her scud until some other sail can be set. Some vessels will
lie-to under no sail whatever, but such are not to be trusted at sea.</p>
<p>But to return from this digression. It had never been customary with the
mate to have any watch on deck when lying-to in a gale of wind, and the
fact that he had now one, coupled with the circumstance of the missing
axes and handspikes, fully convinced us that the crew were too well on the
watch to be taken by surprise in the manner Peters had suggested.
Something, however, was to be done, and that with as little delay as
practicable, for there could be no doubt that a suspicion having been once
entertained against Peters, he would be sacrificed upon the earliest
occasion, and one would certainly be either found or made upon the
breaking of the gale.</p>
<p>Augustus now suggested that if Peters could contrive to remove, under any
pretext, the piece of chain-cable which lay over the trap in the
stateroom, we might possibly be able to come upon them unawares by means
of the hold; but a little reflection convinced us that the vessel rolled
and pitched too violently for any attempt of that nature.</p>
<p>By good fortune I at length hit upon the idea of working upon the
superstitious terrors and guilty conscience of the mate. It will be
remembered that one of the crew, Hartman Rogers, had died during the
morning, having been attacked two days before with spasms after drinking
some spirits and water. Peters had expressed to us his opinion that this
man had been poisoned by the mate, and for this belief he had reasons, so
he said, which were incontrovertible, but which he could not be prevailed
upon to explain to us—this wayward refusal being only in keeping
with other points of his singular character. But whether or not he had any
better grounds for suspecting the mate than we had ourselves, we were
easily led to fall in with his suspicion, and determined to act
accordingly.</p>
<p>Rogers had died about eleven in the forenoon, in violent convulsions; and
the corpse presented in a few minutes after death one of the most horrid
and loathsome spectacles I ever remember to have seen. The stomach was
swollen immensely, like that of a man who has been drowned and lain under
water for many weeks. The hands were in the same condition, while the face
was shrunken, shrivelled, and of a chalky whiteness, except where relieved
by two or three glaring red blotches like those occasioned by the
erysipelas: one of these blotches extended diagonally across the face,
completely covering up an eye as if with a band of red velvet. In this
disgusting condition the body had been brought up from the cabin at noon
to be thrown overboard, when the mate getting a glimpse of it (for he now
saw it for the first time), and being either touched with remorse for his
crime or struck with terror at so horrible a sight, ordered the men to sew
the body up in its hammock, and allow it the usual rites of sea-burial.
Having given these directions, he went below, as if to avoid any further
sight of his victim. While preparations were making to obey his orders,
the gale came on with great fury, and the design was abandoned for the
present. The corpse, left to itself, was washed into the larboard
scuppers, where it still lay at the time of which I speak, floundering
about with the furious lurches of the brig.</p>
<p>Having arranged our plan, we set about putting it in execution as speedily
as possible. Peters went upon deck, and, as he had anticipated, was
immediately accosted by Allen, who appeared to be stationed more as a
watch upon the forecastle than for any other purpose. The fate of this
villain, however, was speedily and silently decided; for Peters,
approaching him in a careless manner, as if about to address him, seized
him by the throat, and, before he could utter a single cry, tossed him
over the bulwarks. He then called to us, and we came up. Our first
precaution was to look about for something with which to arm ourselves,
and in doing this we had to proceed with great care, for it was impossible
to stand on deck an instant without holding fast, and violent seas broke
over the vessel at every plunge forward. It was indispensable, too, that
we should be quick in our operations, for every minute we expected the
mate to be up to set the pumps going, as it was evident the brig must be
taking in water very fast. After searching about for some time, we could
find nothing more fit for our purpose than the two pump-handles, one of
which Augustus took, and I the other. Having secured these, we stripped
off the shirt of the corpse and dropped the body overboard. Peters and
myself then went below, leaving Augustus to watch upon deck, where he took
his station just where Allen had been placed, and with his back to the
cabin companionway, so that, if any of the mates gang should come up, he
might suppose it was the watch.</p>
<p>As soon as I got below I commenced disguising myself so as to represent
the corpse of Rogers. The shirt which we had taken from the body aided us
very much, for it was of singular form and character, and easily
recognizable—a kind of smock, which the deceased wore over his other
clothing. It was a blue stockinett, with large white stripes running
across. Having put this on, I proceeded to equip myself with a false
stomach, in imitation of the horrible deformity of the swollen corpse.
This was soon effected by means of stuffing with some bedclothes. I then
gave the same appearance to my hands by drawing on a pair of white woollen
mittens, and filling them in with any kind of rags that offered
themselves. Peters then arranged my face, first rubbing it well over with
white chalk, and afterward blotching it with blood, which he took from a
cut in his finger. The streak across the eye was not forgotten and
presented a most shocking appearance.</p>
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