Mutiny on the Bounty

by Peter Fitzsimons

  A few days later, however, when things are calmer – the Captain of the Chatham has been careful not to allow too much interaction, for obvious reasons – some of the sailors are surprised to see a double-canoe pull up alongside, bearing ‘three women, all dress’d in White Linen Shirts, and having each a fine young child in their arms, perfectly white’.67

  Hello, sailors!

  Meet Peggy Stewart, with her beautiful daughter, Charlotte, together with Mary McIntosh, Mary Burkett and their own tiny tots. They seek news of their husbands, last seen departing on the Pandora.

  Most persistent is Peggy, who returns again and again, with gifts for the sailors, seeking someone who can give her the answer to the question she is obsessed by:

  ‘Do you think George Stewart will be hanged?’

  ‘I do not know,’ replies clerk Edward Bell to her, in his cabin, on the last day before departure.

  ‘If he is alive when you return,’ the weeping woman begs him, ‘tell him you saw his Peggy and his little Charlotte, and that they were both well and tell him to come to Tahiti and live with them, or they will be unhappy.’68

  In fact, they are already unhappy as Peggy now bursts into tears.

  As the Chatham weighs anchor and starts moving towards the open sea, still Peggy stays in her canoe, waving, waving, waving until … finally, her tiny form sinks beneath the waves and she is gone.

  20 November 1791, Batavia, homeward Heywood

  Peter Heywood places several sheets of paper on the desk before him, and after dipping his quill in ink, starts the most important missive of his life, his account of the Mutiny, to be sent to his beloved family back on the Isle of Man.

  Batavia, November 20th, 1791.

  My Ever Honoured and Dearest Mother,

  At length the time has arrived when you are once more to hear from your ill-fated son, whose conduct, at the capture of that ship in which it was my ill fortune to embark, has, I fear, from what has since happened to me, been grossly misrepresented to you by Lieutenant Bligh, who, by not knowing the real cause of my remaining on board, naturally suspected me, unhappily for me, to be a coadjutor in the mutiny …

  Oh! my dearest mother, I hope you have not so easily credited such an account of me; do but let me vindicate my conduct, and declare to you the true cause of my remaining in the ship, and you will then see how little I deserve censure, and how I have been injured by so gross an aspersion. I shall then give you a short and cursory account of what has happened to me since

  How I came to remain on board was thus …69

  And so Peter Heywood, after writing furiously into the night, with a lightened heart pens his final words.

  I hope this will be sufficient to undeceive those who have been so ungenerous as to express, and others who have been so credulous to believe, all that is laid to my charge. I can say no more, but remember me to my dearest brothers and sisters &c., and believe me still to be

  Your most dutiful and ever obedient son,

  Peter Heywood.70

  Early 1792, Pitcairn, Mutineer wants a wife

  The bunk of Jack Williams is achingly cold, every night. His first Native wife, Faahotu, died a year ago now, after a long illness, and sexual desire builds. True, all the women on the island are already taken, but he is not bothered by that detail.

  For he is insistent, and at the regular meetings of the Mutineers – they gather at the home of one or other, every couple of weeks to talk things through – makes his position clear.

  ‘If I am not provided with a wife,’ he declares, ‘I will leave Pitcairn on the Bounty’s Jolly Boat.’71

  Well, then!

  In the name of peace, and against the advice of Christian, the Mutineers decide to draw lots, with the wives themselves, of course, not consulted.

  And the winner is …

  Toofaiti, the wife of Talaloo. In fact, she only used to be the wife of Talaloo, because the Mutineers all agree she now belongs to Williams.

  Fair’s fair, after all.

  Now while Toofaiti co-operates, and that night takes her few meagre possessions to Williams’ hut, and sleeps in his bed, Talaloo takes an exceedingly dim view of proceedings.

  Storming away, the distraught and furious Talaloo – trouble on two legs – takes to the hills, plotting revenge.

  While this would be a problem in itself, the bigger problem soon emerges.

  He is not alone in his outrage.

  One by one, all the other Native men on Pitcairn visit Talaloo, sit with him, talk things through, and yes, build on each other’s anger at the white men. Finally, it is Ohoo, one of the ‘husbands’ of Tinafornia who comes up with a possible solution. Let’s kill every white man on the island. Why should we be slaves to these white devils who pretended to be our friends, only to take us far from everything we knew, work us to the bone, and then take our wives?

  Slowly, around the fire with Talaloo, a plan is hatched for the mass slaughter of the Mutineers. Carefully, word is passed to Toofaiti that she will soon be liberated.

  Axes are sharpened, spears are fashioned, as a dark cloud of tension descends on Pitcairn. The Mutineers are aware that the Natives are restless, but not overly concerned.

  Two people on the island, however, are highly troubled by the way things are heading.

  One is Christian, who continues to be a voice of reason, insisting to both blacks and whites that the only way forward is to turn to each other, and not on each other.

  The other one who is agitated, naturally enough, is Toofaiti herself. To find herself traded like a sack of potatoes, being handed around between Tahitian and English men alike, with never any question as to her own desires, is more than merely aggravating. She waits for the moment to let all know that she is a woman who can decide her own fate.

  So it is that one day, while she is with some of the other women, washing garments in the sea, she starts to sing an improvised song, one with searing words, that makes the other women stop and stare …

  Why does black man sharpen axe?

  To kill white man.

  Why should the Tahitian men sharpen their axes?

  To cut off the Englishmen’s heads72

  The assistant botanist Billy Brown’s wife, Sarah, no sooner hears the song than she instantly grasps its intent, and quickly goes off to find Isabella and tell her the news: murder is coming to Pitcairn. Isabella, in turn, quickly tells miti Titriano, dear Fletcher, who has no sooner heard the news than he grabs his musket, loads it, and goes off in search of the Tahitian men to tell them that their plot has been discovered. The afternoon crackles with tension. The island seethes. A storm that has been a long time coming is suddenly about to break all over them.

  Only a few minutes walk from the village, Christian comes across the ringleader Ohoo.

  ‘Ohoo!’ he calls.

  I know all about the plot to kill us. I know that you are behind it.

  When Ohoo shouts back at him, clearly entirely unrepentant and intent on going through with the plot, Christian lifts his musket, aims it right at him and pulls the trigger.

  There is a flash, a puff of smoke, a massive roar, and the musket’s muzzle bursts forth a belch of flame.

  Ohoo?

  He remains standing.

  Christian, wanting only to scare and intimidate, not maim or murder, has loaded his musket with powder alone, not shot.

  Alas, rather than be intimidated, Ohoo now appears convinced he has supernatural powers, able to withstand even the white man’s weaponry, for he openly mocks Christian.

  Against that, he also understands that in such situations discretion really is the better part of valour, and before Christian can reload, Ohoo is on his way to join Talaloo at his hideaway in the hills.

  •

  Fishing at Pitcairn requires the execution of an ancient art.

  The Tahitian women are very good at it. With each one taking a bag and a small net, they form up in a line across the shallows by the shore, up to their middle. Standing ti
ghtly side by side, they trap fish in their nets, ‘made of the membranous stratums of the coconut tree, sewed together’,73 pluck them up and put them in their bags. Not only have they been raised to it, nurtured on its skills, but they also appear to have a natural patience that does not come easily to the men.

  On this day Toofaiti is with the other women, catching fish, when she hears an unmistakable low whistle. It can only have come from one person, and she knows who. Sure enough, gazing into the bushes whence the whistle has come, she sees one branch moving on this otherwise totally still day and makes her way to it.

  Talaloo.

  He wants her to come back to him, come to live in the hills.

  She makes a decision on the spot, and now joins Talaloo and Ohoo at their hiding spot in the hills.

  That night, Williams sleeps alone once more, bereft that Toofaiti has left him. He had won her fair and square by drawing lots, and thought he had won her heart, too, but now is alone. When yet one more Tahitian, Timoa, goes off to join the group in the hills, the situation becomes urgent.

  The Mutineers are not only losing labour and wives, the island is now forming into two armed camps. Should they send out a punitive expedition to put an end to it?

  For the moment, the answer is no. The very features of Pitcairn that encouraged them when they occupied it, the cruel mountain passes and many caves, now aid the black renegades. For they, too, would be able to see the white men coming from a long way off, and, even without muskets, be able to do enormous damage by virtue of spears, hurled rocks, and even landslides prepared above the narrowest of passes.

  Instead, the white men send the Tahitian Native most onside, Menalee, as an emissary. His task is, first and foremost, to see if he can find the Tahitians.

  It takes several days, but finally Menalee returns with the news.

  Yes, he has found two of them, including Ohoo, as cautious as he is cunning, who had hidden himself on the far side of the island. But no, they do not wish to return to the white men, and nothing will convince them to return.

  Very well, then. Perhaps a punitive expedition after all? No, not by the white men. That would be too risky. Have Menalee do it. After much discussion with the Native men who are still with them, and who ‘finding their plot discovered, purchased pardon by promising to murder their accomplices’,74 the Mutineers decide to send Menalee back to visit Talaloo, Toofaiti and Timoa, bearing three puddings. While two of the puddings would be normal English fare, and given to Toofaiti and Timoa, the one given specifically to Talaloo would be poisoned. Ideally, the poison would be enough to kill him, and show the penalty to the other Natives for disobeying the white men.

  One morning late in January 1792, Menalee sets off, with the three puddings, with the normal ones in his left hand and the poisoned one firmly in his right hand, with Christian, by one contemporary account, ‘promising to reward him handsomely if he succeeded, but, if he did not, he was to lose his own life’.75

  Sure enough, Talaloo, Toofaiti and Timoa appear pleased to see him, until such time as he brings out the puddings. This is … strange? Men do not bring men puddings. Talaloo is suspicious from the first, and instead of eating the pudding Menalee carefully proffers him, puts it aside, uneaten, while sharing in his wife Toofaiti’s pudding.

  Mindful of his instructions to kill Talaloo, Menalee comes up with another plan. You all should know that I have left our shared wife Mareva nearby, and she would love to see you. Would you like to come with me through the narrow mountain passes to see her? She is only a short distance off, waiting by a bread-fruit tree!

  All three agree, and they are soon on their way, with Menalee carefully positioning himself last on the narrow hill pathway, directly behind Talaloo.

  As they approach a particularly narrow pass, where there is no room to manoeuvre left or right, and certainly no way for Talaloo to go forward or back, when he is no more than a sitting duck, Menalee carefully draws his pistol, brings it up to the back of Talaloo’s head, meaning he simply can’t miss, and, yes … pulls the trigger.

  What follows is a truly shocking … CLICK.

  The gun has misfired! But Talaloo has heard it all right, and whirls around to see Menalee with the pistol pointed at him, about to have another go. This second, he lives or dies. At this very spot, suddenly, there is a slight opening on the path, enough for him to get past Toofaiti. Like a scalded cat, thus, he takes a bound forward, past his wife, and starts running. Menalee, realising he will never have another chance from this close, also bounds forward, giving chase, and, quickly bringing him down, the two fight on the ground, wrestling, and raining blow after blow on each other.

  ‘Vahine fa’aipoipo! Wife!’ roars Talaloo. ‘Help me kill this man!’

  ‘Toofaiti!’ yells Menalee, in turn. ‘You must help me kill your husband!’76

  Toofaiti makes her decision in an instant. Grabbing a rock, she brings it down hard on the head of … Talaloo, her first husband, stunning him in two ways and allowing Menalee to get a rock of his own. Together, while the shocked Timoa simply stands witness, the two beat Talaloo to death. When it is done and Talaloo lies still, his crushed-in head a bloody mess, the two stand, covered in blood from head to toe.

  Escaping the attention of everyone to this point – most particularly including the entirely oblivious Talaloo – is that Toofaiti has long been in love with Williams! All of the assurances, thus, from her fellow Tahitians, that she would soon be back in the arms of Talaloo had been taunts to her heart. Yes, Williams had won her by drawing lots, but she had felt lucky in turn as he had long before won her heart. And now, as she has so comprehensively demonstrated, she so loves Jack that she will kill to be with him.

  •

  Here they come!

  From the village below, they see three figures emerge from the high mountain passes, a number which is already promising. But who is it?

  It does not take long to find out. Once it is clear that Talaloo is not among them, and two of the figures are covered in blood, it is obvious that the mission must have been accomplished in another manner, and the Mutineers rush forward. In short order, the news tumbles out, much as Toofaiti tumbles into the waiting arms of Williams, only minutes before the two return to his house. Toofaiti is now his wife, for now and forevermore, with no rivals.

  While pleased to hear of the death of Talaloo, still there is a problem. Somewhere out there, Ohoo is still alive and likely plotting to kill one or all of the white men. He, too, will have to be dealt with, but this time they will not bother with poisoned puddings.

  •

  All is in readiness. After several sorties of a very careful nature, the faithful Menalee knows well Ohoo’s hidden camp, in a thick grove on the southern side of the island. On this day in late January, Menalee and Timoa leave together on a visit to Ohoo, with Menalee carefully tucking his primed pistol into his belt, secreted from view by the marro around his waist.

  And there he is!

  Ohoo rises warily as he sees his two Tahitian friends approaching, weeping.

  Ohoo, our brother, they call, the tears running down their cheeks. We have missed you. We are so sorrowful to have been without you for so long.

  Relieved that they come in peace, Ohoo comes forward to embrace them, his arms out wide, at which point Menalee whips out his pistol and shoots him dead.

  This time, there is no mistake.

  •

  The emaciated Mutineers captured by the Pandora arrive back at Portsmouth on 18 June 1792, aboard His Majesty’s Ship, Gorgon – a 44-gun troopship returning from New Holland, which had picked them up at the Cape of Good Hope. No sooner has the ship dropped anchor than the prisoners, in chains, have been dragged into the sunlight, and are soon in a Cutter with a posse of hefty Marines, heading across the harbour to the guardship HMS Hector, where they must await their court martial. Among them of course is Peter Heywood, and amazingly, secure among his few possessions, he still has his Book of Common Prayer – in which, on the fl
y leaves he has, in Tahitian, noted events of great importance. Sept 22nd 1789 Mya Toobooai mye; Mar. 25th 1791 We ta Pahee Pandora … 77

  Only three days later, the letter young Peter had, back in Batavia, written to his mother, arrives at the Heywood family home on the Isle of Man. With a start, his frail mother recognises the careful handwriting – he had always been such a neat, elegant boy – and calls for her daughter Nessy to come quickly!

  It is Peter. He has written to us! Taking the letter from her mother’s shaking fingers, Nessy composes herself and reads it out loud to her mother, brothers and two younger sisters, stifling a sob of relief at his earnest words: ‘I never, to my knowledge, whilst under his command, behaved myself in a manner unbecoming the station I occupied …’78

  She knew it!

  She had known all along, and had been telling everyone, her beloved Peter is no Mutineer. And now she quickly pens her own heartfelt response on behalf of the family.

  My dearest and most beloved brother,

  Thanks to that Almighty Providence which has so miraculously preserved you, your fond, anxious, and, till now, miserable Nessy, is at last permitted to address the object of her tenderest affection in England! Oh! My admirable, my heroic boy, what have we felt on your account …! How blessed did your delightful and yet dreadful letter from Batavia make us all!79

  For all her expressed love, Mrs Heywood has few illusions – it will likely need a miracle, some divine intervention, for her son to survive this. For hanging remains the most likely result for all those accused of being Mutineers. But at least there is one thing in their favour – Bligh is still away on his Tahiti venture, completing his mission of getting the bread-fruit, and, if they move quickly, he will not be back in time, and so won’t be able to give evidence.

  In what little time remains, the Heywood family must do everything they can to save Peter’s life. One thing that turns up in their initial inquiries gives them hope. Apparently, one of his co-accused, a James Morrison, kept a journal throughout the whole journey, which details Bligh’s bastardry and brutality, and gives context to the Mutiny.