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During the next four days, Stewart, Coleman, Skinner, and I were conscious of little save our own misery. A frigate’s orlop deck is a foul place in which to be confined at any time, and with the ship at anchor, in the lee of a tropical island, the heat and stench were scarcely to be endured. Our sentinels were changed every two hours, and I remember with what longing we watched the departing guard returning to the freshness of the open air. Food was brought to us morning and evening, and only thus were we able to distinguish night from day, for no sunlight penetrated to our quarters. Our victuals were the rancid salt beef and hard bread which the Pandora had carried all the way from England, with never an addition of the fresh meat, fruit, and vegetables which the island furnished in such abundance. But more than food we craved fresh air and the luxury of movement. Our leg irons were made fast to ringbolts in the planking, and although we could rise to our feet, we could take no more than one short step in either direction.

On the fifth morning of our confinement, the corporal of marines appeared with an extra guard. My leg irons were removed and I was taken up the ladderway and aft along the gun-deck to a cabin on the starboard side of the vessel. It was the surgeon’s cabin, and the surgeon himself, Dr. Hamilton, was awaiting me there. He dismissed the guard and then, observing that I was in handcuffs, recalled the corporal and requested that these be removed. The man was reluctant to comply.

“Lieutenant Parkin’s orders were....”

“Nonsense,” the doctor interrupted. “Take them off. I’ll answer for this man’s safety.” The irons were then removed and once more the corporal retired. The surgeon turned the key in the lock, smiling as he did so.

“I’m not taking this precaution against yourself, Mr. Byam,” he said. “I wish our conversation to be uninterrupted. Please to be seated.”

He was a sturdily built man of forty, or thereabout, with a pleasant voice and manner. He looked like a ship’s surgeon and a capable one. I felt drawn to him immediately. After the treatment accorded us by Edwards and Parkin, mere courtesy seemed, by contrast, the highest of virtues. I seated myself on his clothes chest and waited for him to speak.

“First,” he said, “about your studies of the Tahitian language. You will wonder how I know of them. Of that, presently. Have you continued them during your sojourn here?”

“I have, sir,” I replied. “Not a day has passed that I have not added to my dictionary. I have also compiled a grammar for the use of those who may wish to study the language hereafter.”

“Good! Sir Joseph Banks was not mistaken, I see, in the confidence he placed in you.”

“Sir Joseph! You know him, sir?” I asked, eagerly.

“Not as intimately as I could wish. In fact, I met him only shortly before the Pandora sailed; but he is an esteemed friend of friends of mine.”

“Then you can tell me whether he believes me guilty in this affair of the mutiny. Do you yourself, sir, think I could have been so mad as to have joined it? And yet I have been treated by Captain Edwards as though I were one of the ringleaders.”

The surgeon regarded me gravely for a moment.

“I will say this, Mr. Byam, if it will afford you comfort. You have not the look of a guilty man. As for Sir Joseph, despite all that has been said against you, he still believes in your innocence....

“Wait! Allow me to continue,” he went on as I was about to interrupt him. “I am as ready to hear what you have to say as you are to speak; but let me first inform you how serious the charges laid against you seem to be. I have been informed on this matter by Sir Joseph, who has not only talked with Captain Bligh, but has read the sworn statement concerning the mutiny which he has furnished to the Admiralty. I will not give the details. One will suffice to show how deeply you are implicated. On the night before the Bounty was seized, Captain Bligh himself, coming on deck during the middle watch, surprised you and Mr. Christian in earnest conversation. And Captain Bligh, so he insists, overheard you say to Mr. Christian: ‘You can count on me, sir,’ or words to that precise effect.”

I was so taken aback as to be speechless for a moment. However strange it may seem, although I had the clearest recollection of the conversation with Christian, this vastly important detail had quite slipped from memory. The excitement of the events immediately following had, I suppose, driven it from my mind. Now that it had been recalled to me, I realized at once how black the appearances against me must be, and that Bligh was justified in placing the most damning construction upon what I had said. What could he have believed except that I was pledging my allegiance to Christian in his plan to seize the ship?

Dr. Hamilton sat with his hands clasped, his elbows on the arms of his chair, waiting for me to speak.

“It is plain from your manner, Mr. Byam, that you have a recollection of such a conversation.”

“I have, sir. I said those very words to Mr. Christian, and under the circumstances described by Captain Bligh.” I then proceeded to tell him the whole story of the mutiny, omitting nothing. He heard me through without comment. When I had finished he gazed at me keenly; then he said, “My boy, you have convinced me, and here’s my hand on it!” I shook it warmly. “But I must tell you that my conviction is due to your manner rather than to the matter you have related. You must see for yourself that the very plausibility of your story is against it.”

“How is that, sir?” I asked.

“Understand—I believe you; but put yourself in the place of the ships’ captains who will sit at the court-martial. Your sincerity of manner in telling the story will have weight with them too, but they will be justified in ascribing this to your longing to escape death. As to the story, could you blame them for thinking it a little too perfect to fit the facts? It meets your necessities so well. The damning words to Christian are completely explained. And your going below, on the morning of the mutiny, just before the launch was cast off, is perfectly explained as well. There is not one of those captains who will not say to himself: ‘This is such a tale as one would expect an intelligent midshipman, eager to save his life, to invent.’ ”

“But, as I have told you, sir, Robert Tinkler overheard the conversation with Christian. He can corroborate every word of my testimony.”

“Yes; Tinkler, I think, saves you. Your life is in his hands. He reached England safely with the rest of Captain Bligh’s party. To return to your story, you see how difficult it will be to convince a court-martial that Mr. Christian, presumably a man of intelligence and one capable of reflection, would have considered the mad plan of casting himself adrift on a tiny raft, for the purpose of making his way, alone, to an island peopled with savages?”

“It would not seem improbable if they knew Christian’s character and the abuse he had received from Captain Bligh.”

“But these officers will know nothing of Christian’s character, and their sympathies will all be with Captain Bligh. You will have to prove your story of that conversation beyond the shadow of a doubt. Was there no one at that time to whom he revealed his plan to leave the ship? Such a man would be a most important witness for you.”

“Yes; John Norton, one of the quartermasters. He prepared the raft for Christian.”

The surgeon opened a drawer in his table and brought forth a paper.

“I have here a list of the men who went with Captain Bligh in the launch. Twelve of the party survived to reach England.”

He glanced down the list, and then looked at me gravely.

“Norton, I am sorry to say, is not one of them. According to this record he was killed by the savages on the island of Tofoa.”

It was a shock to me to learn of Norton’s death, and I realized what a misfortune the lack of his evidence would be for me. Mr. Nelson, too, was dead, having succumbed to a fever when the party reached Coupang. Mr. Nelson was not only my friend; he was also a witness who could have vouched for my intention to leave the ship. With these two gone, my chance for acquittal seemed much less hopeful. Dr. Hamilton took a more encouraging view of the situation.

“You must not be disheartened,” he said. “Tinkler’s evidence is vastly more important to you than that of Norton and Mr. Nelson, and you may be sure that he will be summoned. Sir Joseph Banks will see to it that every scrap of evidence in your favour is brought to bear. No, take my word for it, your case is far from hopeless.”

His quiet confident manner reassured me, and for the time I put aside all thought of what my fate might be. Mr. Hamilton then related, briefly, what I was most eager to hear: the story of what had happened to Bligh and his party after the launch had been cast adrift. They had first called at the island of Tofoa, for water and other refreshment, but the savages, seeing that the party lacked the means of defending themselves, attacked them in such numbers that a massacre of the entire company was barely averted. As it happened, Norton was the only man to be killed. Their subsequent adventures made up a record of appalling hardships, and had any one but Bligh been in command, there is little doubt that the launch would never have been heard of again. On the fourteenth of June, forty-seven days after the mutiny, they reached the Dutch settlement at Coupang Bay, on the island of Timor, a distance of more than twelve hundred leagues from Tofoa. After recuperating for two months among the kindly inhabitants of Coupang, a small schooner was purchased and fitted out for the voyage to Batavia, where they arrived on October 1, 1789. Here three more of the party died: Elphinstone, Lenkletter, the remaining quartermaster, and Thomas Hall, a seaman. Ledward, the acting surgeon, was left behind at Batavia, and the rest of the party embarked in ships of the Dutch East India Company for the voyage home. Robert Lamb, the butcher, died on the passage, leaving but twelve of the nineteen men who had set out from the Bounty’s side.

“In all the annals of our maritime history there has never been such an open-boat voyage as this,” Dr. Hamilton continued. “You will understand the excitement and interest aroused when Bligh reached England. I was then in London, and for weeks the story of the mutiny and the voyage of the launch were the chief topics of conversation everywhere. The whole country rang with Bligh’s praises, and the sympathy for him is universal. It would be useless to deny the fact, Mr. Byam—those who remained in the Bounty are all considered scoundrels of the blackest description.”

“But did Captain Bligh say nothing,” I asked, “of the men who were kept against their inclination? I fully understand, now, his bitterness toward me, but there are others whom he knows to be innocent, and he pledged himself to do them justice if ever he reached England. Stewart and Coleman are in irons at this moment, as you may know. They are as guiltless as any of those who went with Captain Bligh.”

“I have read the instructions furnished to Captain Edwards by the Admiralty,” he replied. “They contain a list of the names of those who remained in the Bounty, and you are all considered mutineers. No distinction is made amongst you, and Captain Edwards is instructed to keep you so closely confined as to preclude all possibility of escape.”

“Does this mean that we shall be confined where we are now until the Pandora reaches England?”

“Not if Captain Edwards will follow my advice. His instructions also say that, in confining you, he is to have a proper regard for the preservation of your lives. In this matter I am equally responsible with him, and I would not answer for the life of a pig kept for months on end on the orlop deck. I shall do my best to persuade him to remove you to more healthful quarters.”

“And if possible, sir,” I urged, “persuade him to permit us to speak with one another.”

“God bless my soul! Do you tell me that he has denied you that small privilege?” The surgeon regarded me with a grim smile. “Captain Edwards is a just man, Mr. Byam. You will understand, perhaps, what I mean by this? He will carry out his instructions to the letter, and if ever he errs, it will not be on the side of leniency. But I think that I can promise you relief in some small matters. At any rate, be assured that I shall try. To return to the matter of your studies: you have your manuscripts at your house, I presume?”

All of my personal belongings had been left at Tautira. I told the surgeon of my friend, Tuahu, and that, if I might send him word, he would bring my chest to the ship. Dr. Hamilton asked that I write his name on a slip of paper.

“I will find him,” he said. “Sir Joseph is extremely anxious that these manuscripts of yours should not be lost.”

“It would be a godsend to me, sir, if I might continue my work on the voyage home.”

“Sir Joseph had requested this very thing, in case you should be found,” the surgeon replied. “Captain Edwards will, I believe, grant permission.”

This news cheered me greatly. I should have an occupation that would suffice to make the long confinement endurable, and as Stewart, Coleman, and Skinner were all proficient in the Indian tongue, if we were permitted to converse my studies could be carried on with their help.

Mr. Hamilton glanced at his timepiece.

“I must send you below soon,” he said. “I had Captain Edward’s consent to this interview that I might question you with respect to the manuscripts. He is ashore this morning. I have taken advantage of the fact to enlarge upon my privilege.”

He rose, unlocked the door of his cabin, glanced out, and closed it again.

“I shall enlarge upon it still more,” he said. “Sir Joseph has charged me with another commission. In case you could be found, he asked me to deliver this letter to you.”

Dr. Hamilton busied himself with some papers of his own while I read my letter. It was from my mother, of course. I still have it to this day, but I need not consult it to refresh my memory. For all the years that have passed, I can recall it, word for word:—

My dear Son:—

I have only just learned that I may have this precious opportunity to write to you. I must make every moment count, and waste none in unnecessary words.

When Captain Bligh returned with the news of the dreadful fate of the Bounty, I wrote to him at once, and received from him the letter which I enclose. What may have happened to turn him against you, I cannot conceive. After the receipt of so cruel a message I did not again write to him, but you must not believe that I have been greatly distressed. I know you too well, dear Roger, to have the least doubt of your innocence.

I know what your anxiety, on my account, will be upon the arrival of the Pandora, when you learn that you are counted among the mutineers. Imagine then, dear son, that you have been able to write to me, explaining fully the circumstances, and imagine that your letter has reached me. I am as certain as though I had this letter before me that events over which you had no control caused you to remain in the Bounty, and I await with perfect confidence your homecoming and the clearing of your name from this infamous charge.

My only concern for you is at the thought of the hardships you may have to suffer as a prisoner on the long voyage to England. But they can be borne, and remember, my son, that home is beyond them.

Sir Joseph has talked with Captain Bligh, and you will be gratified to know that he does not share Mr. Bligh’s belief that you were one of his enemies. I have not been told upon what ground you are charged with conspiracy, but in closing his letter to me, Sir Joseph said: ‘I confidently expect that the proof of your son’s innocence only awaits the day when the Pandora returns and all the facts shall be known.’ I not only expect it. I am as sure of it as I am of the light of to-morrow’s sun.

Good-bye, my dear Roger. I may not write more. The Pandora is to sail within three or four days, and my letter must go to London by this night’s coach. God bless you, my son, and bring you safely home! Believe me, my dear boy, I can smile at the thought of the preposterous charge against you. May England breed many such villains as you are supposed to be.

Dr. Hamilton was kindness itself. Our quarters on the orlop deck were as dark as a cave and I could never have read my letter there. He permitted me to go over it again and again in his cabin until I knew it by heart. The enclosed letter from Bligh to my mother was, surely, the most cruel and heartless message that has ever been sent to the mother of an absent son:—

London, April 2nd, 1790.

Madame:—

I received your letter this day, and feel for you very much, being perfectly sensible of the extreme distress you must suffer from the conduct of your son, Roger Byam. His baseness is beyond all description, but I hope you will endeavour to prevent the loss of him, heavy as the misfortune is, from affecting you too severely. I imagine he is, with the rest of the mutineers, returned to Otaheite.

I am, Madame,

William Bligh.

I returned to our dark hole in a vastly different frame of mind than when I left it. As we passed along the lower deck I caught glimpses through the scuttles of the Matavai beach, and the canoes and the boats from the frigate plying back and forth between the ship and the shore. Those brief bright glimpses brought home to me the preciousness of freedom, the inestimable boon of being merely alive and at liberty. I made no attempt to compute the length of time that must pass before it could be mine again.