Chapter Twenty.
The Mutiny Quelled.
The report of the commencement of the mutiny at Spithead had caused great alarm among the merchants in London, as well as throughout the country. This second, and far more serious, outbreak at the Nore made many dread the very worst results. The courage and determination exhibited by the King and others in authority soon restored confidence, and active measures were taken to compel the rebellious crews to submit. The shores on each side of the river were lined with batteries, the forts at Tilbury and Sheerness and Gravesend were furnished with furnaces for red-hot shot. The buoys at the Nore and along the coast were taken up, so that the ships would have had considerable difficulty in getting away. Many, indeed, would probably have been stranded in the attempt.
Off Woolwich lay the “Neptune,” a 98-gun Ship, which was manned by volunteers raised by the subscriptions of the merchants of London. A little lower down was the “Lancaster,” 64, whose crew had returned to their duty; as also the “Agincourt,” with several gunboats. A number of merchant vessels were also fitted up as gunboats, and manned by volunteer crews. These were placed under the command of Sir Erasmus Gower, as Commodore, and ordered to drop down the river, and to proceed forthwith to attack the rebels.
We must now return on board the “Sandwich.” Parker, who had assumed the title of Admiral, was still implicitly obeyed by the crews of most of the ships. Notice was brought to him, however, that a few were showing signs of disaffection. This, possibly, might have made him tremble for the stability of his power, and he resolved to collect all the ships he had reason to suspect closer round him. In shore lay two ships at this time: the “Clyde,” commanded by Captain Cunningham, and the “Saint Fiorenzo,” commanded by Sir Harry Burrard Neale.
The “Saint Fiorenzo” had sent delegates to the fleet, but they had from the first voted for moderate measures. Accordingly, Parker sent an order to the two ships to come in and anchor close to the “Sandwich.” Not long afterwards they were seen to get under weigh.
One of them, however, the “Saint Fiorenzo,” soon afterwards brought up again; and the other, instead of obeying Parker’s orders, stood up the river towards Sheerness. Parker, in a great rage, ordered a body of delegates to go on board the “Saint Fiorenzo,” and to bring her in and place her between the “Inflexible” and “Director,” when her sails were to be unbent, and her gunpowder sent on board the “Sandwich.” The delegates, on going on board the “Saint Fiorenzo,” abused her crew for allowing the “Clyde” to escape them without firing into her, and threatened them with the vengeance of Admiral Parker, if they did not obey his orders. In spite of the threatening aspect of the “Saint Fiorenzo’s” crew, her delegates expressed their readiness to comply, and at length the mutineers took their departure. A short time afterwards the “Saint Fiorenzo” was seen to get under weigh, and to stand out under all sail towards the fleet. On she came till she got in between the two line-of-battle ships. By the orders of Parker, who seems to have suspected her intentions, the crews of the different ships stood at their guns, which were double-shotted, with the lanyards in their hands, ready to sink her. Her crew had been made aware of this by the delegates. Suddenly all her sheets were let fly, her helm was put hard aport, and she shot ahead of the “Inflexible.” The moment afterwards her brave captain, Sir Harry Burrard Neale, sprang on deck, crying out, “Well done, my lads!” A loud shout rose from the deck of the “Saint Fiorenzo.” On seeing this, Parker ran up the signal to fire, the “Sandwich” herself setting the example; and immediately the whole fleet of thirty-two sail began blazing away at the “Saint Fiorenzo.” The shot fell as thick as hail round her. Still she stood on, though of course without returning the fire. There was a strong breeze, and she was a fast ship. Though so many guns were firing at her, and she was frequently hulled, not a rope was shot away, nor was a single man killed, or even hurt.
On she stood, and not till she had got to some distance did Parker think of ordering any ship to pursue her. He walked the deck for some minutes in a state of agitation. He was afraid of getting under weigh himself, lest during his absence other ships might desert. He possibly thought it very likely that if he ordered any other ship to pursue, her crew might refuse to return. The seamen formed their own opinions on this transaction, and came to the conclusion that there was not that unanimity in the counsels of their leaders, which they boasted of possessing. Even now they desired to evince their loyalty, and on the 4th of June, which was his Majesty’s birthday, the whole fleet fired a royal salute, and dressed the ships with flags as usual. The red flag was, however, kept flying at the maintopmast head of the “Sandwich.”
One of the captains most beloved by the seamen was the Earl of Northesk, commanding the “Monmouth,” a 64-gun ship. The mutineers having their confidence somewhat shaken, determined to request him to try and effect a reconciliation with the Government. The delegates went on board the “Monmouth,” and invited him to meet the mutineer committee on board the “Sandwich.” His lordship accordingly went on board, attended by one officer, and found sixty delegates seated in the state cabin, with Parker at their head. He undertook to carry up their terms to the Government, pledging his honour to return on board, with a clear and positive answer, within fifty-four hours. He told them, however, that from the unreasonableness of their demands, they must not expect success. He immediately proceeded to London, where, after conferring with the Admiralty, he accompanied Earl Spencer to the King.
As might have been expected, the demands of the seamen were rejected as exorbitant and unreasonable. An officer immediately carried down the refusal of the Lords of the Admiralty to the rebel fleet. Soon after this was known, several ships attempted to make their escape from the mutineers. One, the “Leopard,” succeeded and got up the Thames. Another, the “Repulse,” unfortunately ran aground, when she was fired on by the “Monmouth;” and one of the officers lost his leg, and a seaman was wounded. The “Ardent,” the third ship, effected her escape, but passing the “Monmouth” was fired at, and several of her crew were killed and wounded. Confusion and discord now pervaded the rebel councils. On the 10th of June, many other mutinous ships struck the red flag, and the merchant vessels were allowed to proceed up the river. On the 12th, most of the other ships also hauled down the rebel flag, only seven keeping it flying. The next day the remainder intimated an inclination to submit. However, the crews in all cases were not unanimous, and many desperate struggles took place on board the ships between the partisans of the officers and those who still wished to hold out. Happily at this juncture of affairs an officer arrived on board the “Sandwich,” with the King’s proclamations and Acts of Parliament, of which it appeared that Parker had kept the crews ignorant.
The deception which had been practised on the men by the delegates so enraged them, that the crew of the “Sandwich” carried the ship under the guns of the fort of Sheerness. As soon as she anchored, a boat with a guard of soldiers came off, and making their way on deck, ordered Parker to deliver himself up. As they appeared, one of the delegates belonging to the “Standard,” who was on board, pointing a pistol at his own head, shot himself dead. Parker, as soon as he heard that a boat had come off, placed himself under the protection of four of the ship’s crew, the rest of the seamen threatening forthwith to hang him. He and about thirty more delegates were immediately handed over to the soldiers, and they were landed amidst the hisses of the surrounding multitude, and committed to the prison in the garrison of Sheerness. The first batch of mutineers having been so easily captured, the rest of the ringleaders, and all others in any way implicated in the mutiny on board the various ships, were immediately placed under arrest. In the list of the unhappy men to be tried for their lives was the name of Andrew Brown.
Poor Harry! he felt grievously his position. He had protested against the proceedings of the mutineers, but how could he prove this? He could not deny that he had written out a number of documents issued by Parker, and the excuse that he had done so under compulsion was too commonly made by others to allow him to have much hope of its being believed in his case. Up the Thames was the prison ship. Here Harry, with a number of mutineers, was conveyed. Many of his companions were desperate characters, who seemed only to dread the punishment they might receive. He felt that unless he could be proved innocent, death was the only alternative he could desire. Yet it was hard to die. He had looked forward to a life of happiness with one to whom his undivided heart was given; one well worthy of the affections of the best of men. His honour was gone. His name, if it was known, would be blasted, and he must die the death of the worst of criminals. One gleam of hope alone remained. As he was led off by the soldiers sent to apprehend the mutineers, Jacob Tuttle had shaken his hand, and though he did not speak, had given him a significant look, which had evidently been intended to keep up his spirits. Happily Tuttle had taken no part in the mutiny, and had been among the first to urge his shipmates to return to their duty. Still how could an illiterate seaman, unable even to write, be able to help him?
The trial of Richard Parker very soon after this took place on board the “Neptune,” of 98 guns, off Greenhithe, a few days having been allowed him to prepare for his defence. No trial could have been more fair or just. Parker defended himself with considerable ability. Nothing, however, could be stronger than the evidence brought to prove that he was one of the chief instigators of the mutiny, and that he had acted as the chief of the mutineers. The court accordingly adjudged him to death. Parker heard his sentence with a degree of fortitude and composure which excited the astonishment of all present. He submitted, he said, still asserting the rectitude of his intention.
“Whatever offences may have been committed,” he added, “I hope my life will be the only sacrifice. Pardon, I beseech you, the other men. I know that they will return with alacrity to their duty.”
On the 29th of June, Parker was conveyed on board the “Sandwich,” the ship on board which he had acted so prominent a part. On being conducted to the quarter-deck, the chaplain informed him that he had selected two psalms appropriate to his situation. Parker assenting, said, “And with your permission, sir, I will add a third,” and named Psalm thirty-one. Prayers being ended, he arose from his knees and asked the captain if he might be indulged with a glass of white wine. On its being presented to him, he exclaimed, lifting up his eyes, “I drink, first, to the salvation of my soul; and next, to the forgiveness of all my enemies.” He then begged that Captain Moss would shake hands with him. This the captain did. He then desired that he might be remembered to his companions on board the “Neptune,” with his last dying entreaty to them to prepare for their destiny and to refrain from unbecoming levity. On being led to the scaffold on the forecastle, he asked whether he might be allowed to speak.
“I am not going to address the ship’s company,” he added; “I only wish to acknowledge the justice of the sentence under which I suffer, and to pray that my death may be considered a sufficient atonement for the lives of others.”
Turning round, he then asked if any person would lend him a white handkerchief. This, after a little delay, was handed to him. He then begged that a minute might be allowed him to recollect himself, when he kneeled down about that space of time. Then rising up, he said, with considerable dignity, and perfect coolness, “I am ready,” and firmly walked to the extremity of the scaffold. For an instant he stood there, full of life and strength, with a head to plan, and nerve to carry out his objects. He dropped his handkerchief, the gun was fired, and he was run up to the yard-arm. A struggle, and he was dead.
For more than a month the court-martial continued sitting and trying the other mutineers. A considerable number received sentence of death; among them was Andrew Brown. Several were ordered to be flogged from ship to ship, and others were confined in the Marshalsea prison for certain periods.
Parker’s was the first death, but many of the other ringleaders were directly afterwards executed at the yard-arms of their respective ships. The prisoners were tried in succession, and the sentence was forthwith carried out on those who were condemned to death. Harry fully expected ere long to be called forth to undergo his sentence, and he came to the resolution of not attempting any effort to escape his doom.