360: "The
history of Peggy Stewart marks a tenderness of heart that never will be
heard without emotion.
history of Peggy Stewart marks a tenderness of heart that never will be
heard without emotion.
Byron
He was of
honourable descent. His mother's ancestors were sprung from a
half-brother of Mary Stuart's, and his father's family dated back to
1400. When he was at Timor, Bligh gave a "description of the pirates"
for purposes of identification by the authorities at Calcutta and
elsewhere. "George Stewart, midshipman, aged 23 years, is five feet
seven inches high, good complexion, dark hair, slender made . . . small
face, and black eyes; tatowed on the left breast with a star," etc.
Lieutenant Bligh took Stewart with him, partly in return for the
"civilities" at Stromness, but also because "he was a seaman, and had
always borne a good character. " Alexander Smith told Captain Beachey
(_Narrative of a Voyage to the Pacific_, 1831, Part I. p. 53) that it
was Stewart who advised Christian "to take possession of the ship," but
Peter Hayward, who survived to old age, strenuously maintained that this
was a calumny, that Stewart was forcibly detained in his cabin, and that
he would not, in any case, have taken part in the mutiny. He had,
perhaps, already wooed and won a daughter of the isles, and when the
_Bounty_ revisited Tahiti, September 20, 1789, he was put ashore, and
took up his quarters in her father's house. There he remained till
March, 1791, when he "voluntarily surrendered himself" to the captain of
the _Pandora_, and was immediately put in irons. The story of his
parting from his bride is told in _A Missionary Voyage to the Southern
Pacific Ocean in the Ship Duff_ (by W. Wilson), 1799, p.
360: "The
history of Peggy Stewart marks a tenderness of heart that never will be
heard without emotion. . . . They had lived with the old chief in the most
tender state of endearment; a beautiful little girl had been the fruit
of their union, and was at the breast when the Pandora arrived. . . .
Frantic with grief, the unhappy Peggy . . . flew with her infant in a
canoe to the arms of her husband. She was separated from him by
violence, and conveyed on shore in a state of despair and grief too big
for utterance . . . she sank into the deepest dejection, pined under a
rapid decay .
honourable descent. His mother's ancestors were sprung from a
half-brother of Mary Stuart's, and his father's family dated back to
1400. When he was at Timor, Bligh gave a "description of the pirates"
for purposes of identification by the authorities at Calcutta and
elsewhere. "George Stewart, midshipman, aged 23 years, is five feet
seven inches high, good complexion, dark hair, slender made . . . small
face, and black eyes; tatowed on the left breast with a star," etc.
Lieutenant Bligh took Stewart with him, partly in return for the
"civilities" at Stromness, but also because "he was a seaman, and had
always borne a good character. " Alexander Smith told Captain Beachey
(_Narrative of a Voyage to the Pacific_, 1831, Part I. p. 53) that it
was Stewart who advised Christian "to take possession of the ship," but
Peter Hayward, who survived to old age, strenuously maintained that this
was a calumny, that Stewart was forcibly detained in his cabin, and that
he would not, in any case, have taken part in the mutiny. He had,
perhaps, already wooed and won a daughter of the isles, and when the
_Bounty_ revisited Tahiti, September 20, 1789, he was put ashore, and
took up his quarters in her father's house. There he remained till
March, 1791, when he "voluntarily surrendered himself" to the captain of
the _Pandora_, and was immediately put in irons. The story of his
parting from his bride is told in _A Missionary Voyage to the Southern
Pacific Ocean in the Ship Duff_ (by W. Wilson), 1799, p.
360: "The
history of Peggy Stewart marks a tenderness of heart that never will be
heard without emotion. . . . They had lived with the old chief in the most
tender state of endearment; a beautiful little girl had been the fruit
of their union, and was at the breast when the Pandora arrived. . . .
Frantic with grief, the unhappy Peggy . . . flew with her infant in a
canoe to the arms of her husband. She was separated from him by
violence, and conveyed on shore in a state of despair and grief too big
for utterance . . . she sank into the deepest dejection, pined under a
rapid decay .
