The day was fixed and the mutineers passed the greater part of the night in whispered talk, arranging details, and going to Mathews the cook and others to gain them over. Staffe, the carpenter, slept on the poop. In the morning they were on deck, standing at the hatchway, waiting for the Captain to come up. Hudson was entirely without suspicion. He got up as usual, and, stepping on the deck, was seized by Thomas and Bennet Mathews the cook, while W. Wilson tied his hands behind his back. The unfortunate captain struggled and called for help and Staffe the carpenter and two other loyal men ran to his assistance, only to be overpowered by the mutineers, who had got possession of the ship. The shallop, an open boat, was then hauled up alongside. The poor sick men were pulled out of their berths, and forced into the boat, including Mr Woodhouse. Hudson when he saw what was intended, as a last hope called upon Prickett to remonstrate with the mutineers, but the rascal kept in his berth, shamming illness, and said not a word. Staffe, the carpenter, would have been allowed to remain, but he declared that he would rather die with true men than live as the associate of cowards. He got into the boat with his chest. Then young Hudson, who had been his father’s companion in all his voyages, was dragged out of his berth and forced into the boat. Arnold Ladley, another good man and true, went into the boat rather than remain with such infamous wretches, giving his candid opinion of them as he went over the side. John King, another loyal man, also got into the boat; Captain Hudson followed. The shallop was cast adrift with nine men crowded into her, one fowling-piece, some powder and shot, an iron pot, and a little meal.
One of the sick alone deserved his fate, a man named Michael Butt. He had readily agreed to the captain and his son being cast adrift, and so thought he was safe. But Mathews the cook declared that his chum, Sylvanus Bond, should not go, so Butt, kicking and struggling, cursing and swearing, was forced into the boat in Bond’s place.
The ship stood clear of the ice, and then hove to while the mutineers ransacked the captain’s cabin. This aroused a hope in the minds of the forlorn men in the boat that the villains had relented. They pulled with all their might and soon came close to the ship again. But they were doomed to cruel disappointment. As they came alongside, the mainsail was let run, yards braced to the wind, and topsails hoisted. The murderers fled as if from an enemy. Hudson and his doomed companions were never heard of more.
“Hudson’s unburied bones for ever sleep
In the dim silence of the caverned deep;
Left on the wide and lonely wave to die
He fix’d in scorn his proudly mournful eye,
Where the light breath of the invisible gale
Seem’d to dissolve the fast-receding sail.”
Thirteen remained on board, with different degrees of guilt. Juet, Green, W. Wilson, Moter, Pierce, Thomas and Mathews were criminals of the worst type. Bylot, who was made captain, and Prickett were criminal consenting parties through cowardice. Francis Clements was equally criminal. Bond the cooper, and Edward Wilson the surgeon were less guilty, and the boy Sims was probably not to blame.