The Kings Own | Page 8

on board with his father, and there
was not a man in the ship who would not have risked his life to have
saved that of the child. The effect of this impolitic and cruel order was
decisive. The marines, with the sergeant at their head, and little Willy
placed in security in the centre, their bayonets directed on the defensive,
towards the captain and officers, retreated to the mutineers, whom they
joined with three cheers, as the child was lifted over the barricade of
hammocks, and received into his father's arms.
"We must now submit to their terms, sir," said the first lieutenant.
"Any terms, any terms," answered the terrified captain: "tell them so,
for God's sake, or they will fire. Adams, go forward and tell them we
submit."

This order was, however, unnecessary; for the mutineers, aware of the
impossibility of any further resistance, had thrown down the barricade
of hammocks, and, with Peters at their head, were coming aft.
"You consent, gentlemen, to consider yourselves under an arrest?"
inquired Peters of the first lieutenant and officers, without paying any
attention to the captain.
"We do, we do," cried Captain A---. "I hope you will not stain your
hands with blood. Mr Peters, I meant the child no harm."
"If you had murdered him, Captain A---, you could not have injured
him so much as you have injured his father," retorted Peters; "but fear
not for your life, sir: that is safe; and you will meet all the respect and
attention to your wants that circumstances will permit. We war not with
individuals."
It was a proud moment for Peters to see this man cringing before him,
and receiving with thanks the promise of his life from one whom he
had so cruelly treated. There was a glorious revenge in it, the full force
of which could only be felt by the granting, not the receiving party: for
it could only be appreciated by one who possessed those fine and
honourable feelings, of which Captain A--- was wholly destitute.
If the reader will consult the various records of the times which we are
now describing, he will find that every respect was personally paid to
the officers, although they were deprived of their arms. Some of the
most obnoxious were sent on shore, and the intemperate conduct of
others produced effects for which they had only to thank themselves;
but, on the whole, the remark made by Peters was strictly correct:
"They warred not with individuals,"--they demanded justice from an
ungrateful country.
It is true that the demands in this mutiny were not so reasonable as in
the preceding; but where is the man who can confine himself to the
exact balance of justice when his own feelings are unwittingly thrown
into the scale?

As I before stated, it is not my intention to follow up the details of this
national disgrace, but merely to confine myself to that part which is
connected with the present history. Peters, as delegate from his ship,
met the others, who were daily assembled, by Parker's directions, on
board of the Queen Charlotte, and took a leading and decided part in
the arrangements of the disaffected fleet.
But Parker, the ringleader, although a man of talent, was not equal to
the task he had undertaken. He lost sight of several important features
necessary to insure success in all civil commotions: such as rapidity
and decision of action, constant employment being found, and
continual excitement being kept up amongst his followers, to afford no
time for reflection. Those who serve under an established government
know exactly their present weight in the scale of worldly rank, and the
extent of their future expectations; they have accustomed themselves to
bound their ambition accordingly: and feeling conscious that passive
obedience is the surest road to advancement, are led quietly, here or
there, to be slaughtered at the will and caprice of their superiors. But
the leader of the disaffected against an established government has a
difficult task. He has nothing to offer to his followers but promises.
There is nothing on hand--all is expectation. If allowed time for
reflection, they soon perceive that they are acting an humble part in a
dangerous game; and that even though it be attended with success, in
all probability they will receive no share of the advantages, although
certain of incurring a large proportion of the risk. The leader of a
connected force of the above description rises to a dangerous height
when borne up by the excitement of the time; but let it once be
permitted to subside, and, like the aeronaut in his balloon, from which
the gas escapes while it is soaring in the clouds, he is precipitated from
his lofty station, and gravitates to his own destruction.
He