All at sea
In his new book, author and historian Angus Konstam uncovers the key role played by four Scots in the bloodiest mutiny in the Royal Navy’s history
The Scots caught up in a bloody mutiny in 1797
Late in the evening of Thursday 21 September 1797, as the frigate HMS Hermione was patrolling the waters of the Caribbean, her crew rose up in bloody mutiny. These were men pushed to their limits by a tyrannical and unstable captain, who meted out floggings with sadistic zeal. That night, off Puerto Rico, something snapped. A little after 11pm, after steeling themselves on stolen rum, a group of armed sailors crept aft to the captain’s cabin, clubbed the marine sentry to the ground, then burst through the door. Captain Hugh Pigot was in his cot, and barely had time to jump to his feet before the mutineers were upon him. Pigot was slashed, hacked and stabbed, then left for dead. This though, was only the start of what would be become an orgy of murder and revenge.
These men knew that they now had to carry their uprising through to its grisly end. They went back on deck, where, with the help of a dozen others, they set upon the officer of the watch. The young lieutenant’s pleas for mercy were ignored. Instead he was hacked to death, and his body thrown over the side. Armed guards were then sent below to take the other officers prisoner. A few of the mutineers returned to the captain’s cabin, where they found that Captain Pigot was bloodied but still alive. This time they finished the job, and his mutilated body was thrown out of the cabin’s great stern windows. That done, the mutiny’s ringleaders set about gaining control of the ship.
Many of the Hermione’s crew might have been every bit as desperate as the mutineers, but until then they hadn’t joined in the revolt. The ringleaders though, knew exactly what to do. They called “all hands”, and ordered the men to help them turn the ship away to the south.
The sailors did what they were told, whether they wanted to or not. This was a key moment in the mutiny. Now, according to naval law, everyone who obeyed the ringleaders was now fully implicated in the mutiny. So, with the whole crew involved, the ringleaders could now deal with the frigate’s officers.
One by one they were dragged on deck, brutally murdered, and then pitched overboard. Two more lieutenants, a midshipman, the purser, the surgeon, the carpenter, the gunner, the boatswain and even the captain’s clerk were all slaughtered. So too was the lieutenant of Marines, Robert Mcintosh from Glasgow, who was already dying of yellow fever. Only the ship’s sailing master and a midshipman were spared, as both were popular with the men. By the time dawn broke over the Caribbean, Captain Pigot and ten of his officers were dead. The deed done, the mutineers decided to keep sailing south to Venezuela on the Spanish Main. There, they handed the warship over to the Spanish. As Britain was at war with Spain and France at the time, this meant these desperate men had now added treason to their litany of crimes.
However, not all of the crew had mutinied. A handful of them refused point- blank to support the rising. Instead they’d insisted on being handed over to the Spanish as prisoners- of- war, alongside the ship’s two surviving officers. One of these loyal crewmen was William Moncrieff, the ship’s cook. He was an Orcadian, aged 36, and the longestserving sailor on the Hermione. Eventually, the Spanish freed the two surviving officers, together with Moncrieff and the other loyal seamen, and they rejoined the fleet. This then, meant that they were able to give a first- hand account of what had happened on the night of the mutiny. Just as importantly, when the time came, if any of the mutineers were brought to trial, they could now be identified by these key witnesses.
The mutiny caused a national outcry. The press and public alike demanded bloody vengeance. So, the Admiralty launched a largescale manhunt for the mutineers – one that lasted until 1805 – the year of Trafalgar. In the end 33 of the mutineers were caught and brought to trial, and of these, 24 of them were hanged for mutiny. Many had changed their names, but thanks to witnesses like William Moncrieff, they were identified and brought to justice. However, the court records show that Moncrieff was also willing to say if someone in the dock hadn’t been an active participant, and had simply been swept along. So, the cook from Orkney helped spare the lives of several of his former shipmates.
Eighteen of the mutineers were identified as ringleaders. These included three Scots; James Bell from Leith, and John Innes and William Herd from Galloway.
All three were in their twenties when the mutiny took place, and were experienced seamen. Bell and Innes had even served with Captain Pigot before. This though, didn’t stop them turning against him. Neither of them though, had actually taken part in murder – instead they had merely incited their shipmates. Herd though, described as from Galloway but of Irish stock, was almost certainly involved in the murder of at least one of the ship’s officers. He was also the only one of the three to be caught and brought to trial, and in May 1798 he was hanged from the yardarm. The fate of the other two though, remains a mystery.
As a historian, my interest in this story was first piqued in the late 1980s, during a visit to the National Maritime Museum in Greenwich. While there I spotted a small painting showing a boarding action from the Age of Sail. It was a stirring scene, painted by the celebrated naval artist Nicholas Pocock. The work was labelled “The cutting out of HMS Hermione, 24 October 1799”.
In the end 33 of the mutineers were caught and brought to trial, and of these, 24 of them were hanged for mutiny
I thought I knew my naval history, but I hadn’t heard about this. Why did Pocock – a man whose paintings celebrated great naval victories – choose the capture of a British warship as his subject? It turned out this was a celebratory painting after all – the recapture of the Hermione from the Spanish in October 1799. I was intrigued, and was determined to find out more. That’s where the historical quest began.
Along the way I discovered a lot more about the most brutal mutiny in Britain’s naval history, and I gradually unearthed a tale involving all the treachery, violence, murder, betrayal and sweet revenge one could wish for. I also found out more about Pigot, a captain who made Bligh of the Bounty look like a pussy cat.
What I never managed to do though, was to find out what happened to the remaining two Scottish ringleaders of the mutiny, James Bell and John Innes. I traced their path to North America, and there the trail went cold.
Almost certainly the two fugitives changed their names, and probably continued to ply their maritime trade on American ships. One day we might find out the truth, a yellowed document or a keepsake unearthed in a Boston attic that links the past to the present. Until then, all we can say is that these two mutineers from Leith and Galloway probably got away with murder.