Grandfather’s Yarns.

Southern Cross, Volume 2, Issue 25, 15 September 1894, Page 3

Grandfather’s Yarns.

AN EXCHANGE AT SEA. POTATOES FOB GROG. . TRAGIC RESULTS. MUTINOUS CONVICTS. CAPTURE and RE-CAPTURE. A BOY’S PITIFUL FATE. (All Rights Resisted). '

No. 2QJ ‘ Tell us a yarn to-night, Grandfather, please,’ we all clamoured, we haven’t heard one for a long time,’ ‘ Very well, boyS, I’ll tell you about a voyage we made down to New Zealand in the latter end of February 1835. We were just off the North Cape one day when 'ire spoke.a schooner, and the captain asked'me if I’d .go aboard and see if they could spare us some potatoes. So we went aboard and found the schooner laden with timber going to the Bay of Islands. I forgot 'the schooner’s name, but she was a nice tidy craft; but I think the captain was as ugly a fellow as I ever saw. He had a long scar almost from his forehead to his neck, on one side of his face, which gave him a -villainous look. It must have been a desperate gash ; we heard afterwards that he received it on his way out from England. His crew mutinied and in the scuffle he was pretty well knocked about. When he i-eached Sydney he had his certificate taken from him, and was never allowed to take charge of a ship again. ‘ Well, this afternoon he said he couldn’t sell us any potatoes but that he’d give us so he gate us two Maori baskets full, and I asked him if there was anything he’d like in return. He said he’d like some gr«g if we had any to spare ; so I went hack to the Lucy Ann and told Captain Anglem. He filled a fivegallon keg and took it aboard the Schooner himself.- That night the crew all got drunk, and somehow or other they had a row with the captain, who struck some of them ; so thty in their drunken frenzy threw him overboard. On reaching the Bay of Islands the mate failed to report in time and he was taken with the rest to Hobartown. The crew yvere all hanged, and the mate was imprisoned for life, ‘ But of course we knew nothing of this till long afterwards. The next day Captain Anglem asked me if I would go ashore with my boat’s crew to try and get some potatoes from the Natives. I never gave it a thought. that the Maories might be savage but one of my men refused to go, so the cooper volunteered to go instead.

We went into a little bay I tbink it was tbe most beautiful little place I ever saw. There was a splendid beach, and such luxuriant foliage in tbe back ground, whilst in the foreground pumpkins and melons were growing almost to the water’s edge. We all took a fancy to the place, and if we’d had a bad captain would never have gone back to the ship. ‘ There were numbers of natives there, but we couldn’t understand a word they said. They seemed to understand us, though, and appeared very friendly. They hauled our boat up and loaded it with pumpkins, melons, potatoes and fruit of all kinds far more than we could carry. ‘ After we had been there about an hour or so we noticed the women making great preparations for a feast of some kind ; so we thought it w.js time to go. We took a good deal of the stuff out of our boat and hauled it back to the water, when, to our consternation about forty Maories came and fairly carried the boat a good deal higher up than it had been before. ‘ We all felt a bit v scared, and the

cooper, a little Irishman fairly; trembled. For a few minutes I couldn’t think'what to do, and then I remembered that Captain Anglem—who was fairly well acquainted with the Maori customs had'told me that if ever they meant foul play they sent the women and children away. There were plenty of women and children about, so I felt safe, and told the others what Anglem had told me. “ Presently the Maories beckoned to us to come and have something to eat; so went. We tried hard to eat what they gave us, but, good gracious, they gave us each about enough for six men ! However, they didn’t seem to object to our want of appetite, but packed up all that we left for us to take with us.,

“At last we set off for the ship, accompanied by about 50 Maories in canoes. There were four canoes, and each had had as much as it would hold of vegetables, fruit, flax, and fresh pork, besides seven good-sized pigs, which they insisted on us taking. “ It was fun to see the faces of those on board as we all came alongside. When the Maories clambered up on deck they presented the things to Captain Anglem, who was very pleased, and wanted to make them some return. But all they took was one miserable little blanket. I don’t believe you could buy such a small one now if you wanted to. It was simply ridiculous to see their delight —they danced about on the deck till the poor little Lucy Ann trembled again. They thonght they had made a splendid bargain, poor things, and returned to their homes brimful of g!ee. “ I remember, sometimes in the twenties it was, a ship named the Lady Wellington was taking prisoners to Norfolk Island. The had been out from Sydney two or three days when the prisoners rose and took the brig. “ They put the soldiers and crew in chains below, and took charge of the vessel themselves. One day they came into the Bay of Islands for yater, I think. When the old pilot went aboard he thought they were a queerlooking lot, and also noticed the broadarrow on everything. So when he had taken-them in he told Capt. Duke, who was there in his whaler The Sisters, and Duke told him that when he took them out again he was to take them down betwen The Sisteis and another whaler, and that they would fire on the crew and take the Lady Wellington. „The pilot did that and the brig was easily taken, for they had no ammunition, and only the arms that the soldiers had had —a few swords and cutlasses. “ All the prisoners were chained and put below, and the soldiers and former crew restored. Captain Duke and the old pilot went with them to Sydney. “There were nine respites amongthem, and they were all hanged ; the rest of the prisoners (about 15 in number) getting life sentences. One of the respites was s boy about sixteen years old. “ In those days the gaol in Sydney was-overhung on one side by a street which was a little higher than the wall, though sufficiently far away to prevent communication in any underhand way. Yet from this street one could see quite plainly into the prison yard, and hear what was said, too.

When the morning - of execution came a tremendous crowd gathered as usual to see the ghastly sight. Most of them made some sort of speech before they were executed, and they all swore that the boy had nothing to do with the taking of the brig ; also they intended no harm to those they put below, for they meant to land them the day after being in the Bay of Islands.

“ But it was no use their saying anything. One after the other they wer hanged, till at last the boy’s turn came, hi ever can I forget that scene. He stood motionless for a moment, till the captain, put his hand {kindly on the lad’s shoulder, and then he turned and looked at the silent crowd above him. There was a slight breeze blowing, and it lifted the bright golden curls from his high forehead. He

looked 1 round fearlessly enough, with a bright brave look on his face.

“ With a wave of his hand he began —‘ Is it likely/ he said, ‘ that : I should lie now, for in a few moments I shall meet the living God. Ido not fear death • but still I swear that I am as innocent as a baby of what I was brought out from England for, and, as all of the others have said before me, I am innocent of any part in taking the brig. And I am to be hanged like a dog. Oh, mother, mother!’ For an instant his composure forsook him, and he wept like a child. The chaplain comforted the poor boy. Small wonder that he broke down — : to be hanged just when for every boy life should be at its brightest. The crowd was much moved. Scarcely an eye was dry—women sobbed, men groaned, and from the seething mass the cry rose again and again— ‘ A reprieve, a reprieve ! Ask the Governor for a reprieve.’ “As well ask a stone wall. Everyone knew it was useless, and the hangman was impatient to have finished his task. The boy quickly recovered himself, and looking around again, said — ‘ May God forgive all those concerned in my death, for I do.’ The chaplain spoke a few words to him, the rope was placed around his neck, the board he was standing on removed, his hands were clasped as if in prayer, and then —it was all over. “ I have never seen a crowd so deeply affected, and that old pilot had to be put under the protection of the police all the time he was in Sydney, or I believe they would haye killed him. I often saw him down in New Zealand afterwards, and if ever Tommy Chasland was drunk he always gave him a rough turn about that poor boy.”