THE MUTINY AT PORTSMOUTH.

It was resumed on May 7th. As Parliament had delayed in passing the appropriations for the increase of pay and pensions, the crews rose en masse and disarmed all their officers, although still abstaining from actual violence. Lord Howe, always a popular officer with the men, and their especial idol after his great victory of June 1st, 1794, was sent down by the Cabinet with full power to ratify all the concessions which had been made, and to do his best to convince the men that the Government had no desire of evading them. He completely mollified the men, and even succeeded in exacting an expression of regret and contrition for their outbreak. He assured them that their every grievance should be considered, and a free pardon, as before, given to all concerned. The men again returned to duty. The fleet at Plymouth, which had followed that of Portsmouth into the mutiny, did the same; and thus, in a month from the first outbreak, as far as these two great fleets were concerned, all disaffection, dissatisfaction, and discontent had passed away, through the tact and judicious behaviour of Lord Howe. There can be no doubt that the tyranny of many of the officers had a vast deal to do with the outbreak. In the list of officers whom the men considered obnoxious, and that Lord Howe agreed should be removed, there were over one hundred in one fleet of sixteen ships.

Strange to say, the very same week in which the men of the Portsmouth fleet returned to their duty, acknowledging all their grievances to be removed, the fleet at the Nore arose in a violent state of mutiny, displaying very different attributes to those shown by the former. Forty thousand men, who had fought many a battle for king and country, and in steadfast reliance upon whose bravery the people rested every night in tranquillity, [pg 252]confident in their patriotism and loyalty, became irritated by ungrateful neglect on the one part, and by seditious advisers on the other, and turned the guns which they had so often fired in defence of the English flag against their own countrymen and their own homes.

Richard Parker, the chief ringleader at the Nore, was a thoroughly bad man in every respect, and one utterly unworthy the title of a British sailor, of which, indeed, he had been more than once formally deprived. He was the son of an Exeter tradesman in a fair way of business, had received a good education, and was possessed of decided abilities. He was a remarkably bold and resolute man, or he would never have acquired the hold he had for a time over so many brave sailors. He was unmistakably

“The leader of the band he had undone,

Who, born for better things, had madly set

His life upon a cast,”

and until overtaken by justice, he ruled with absolute sway.

Parker had, eleven years previously, entered the navy as a midshipman on board the Culloden, from which vessel he had been discharged for gross misconduct. A little later, he obtained, however, a similar appointment on the Leander frigate, and was again dismissed. We next find him passing through several ships in rotation, from which he was invariably dismissed, no captain allowing him to remain when his true character disclosed itself. It did not usually take long. At length he became mate of the Resistance, on which vessel, shortly after joining, he was brought to a court-martial and “broke”—i.e., his commission taken away—and declared incapable of serving again as an officer. After serving a short time as a common sailor on board the Hebe, he was either invalided or discharged, for we find him residing in Scotland; and as he could no more keep out of trouble ashore than he could afloat, he was soon in Edinburgh gaol for debt. But men were wanted for the navy, and he was eventually sent up to the fleet as one of the quota of men required from Perth district. He received the parochial bounty of £30 allowed to each man. He joined the Sandwich, the flag-ship of Admiral Buckner, Commander-in-Chief at the Nore. The best authorities believe him to have been employed as an emissary of the revolutionists, as, although he had only just been discharged from gaol, he had abundance of money. His good address and general abilities, combined with the liberality and conviviality he displayed, speedily obtained him an influence among his messmates, which he used to the worst purpose. He had scarcely joined the fleet when, aided by disaffected parties ashore, he began his machinations, and speedily seduced the majority of the seamen from their duty. In some respects the men followed the example of those at Portsmouth, selecting delegates and forwarding petitions, but in other respects their conduct was disgracefully different. When mastery of the officers had been effected, Parker became, in effect, Lord High Admiral, and committed any number of excesses, even firing on those ships which had not followed the movement. Officers were flogged, and on board the flag-ship, the vessel on which Parker remained, many were half-drowned, as the following account, derived from an unimpeachable source,[128] [pg 254]will show. Their hammocks were fastened to their backs, with an 18-pounder bar-shot as a weight; their hands were tied together, likewise their feet. They were then made fast to a tackle suspended from a yard-arm, and hauled up almost to the block; at the word of command they were dropped suddenly in the sea, where they were allowed to remain a minute. They were again hoisted up, and the process repeated, until about every sign of life had fled. The unfortunate victims were then hoisted up by the heels; this was considerately done to get rid of the water from their stomachs. They were then put to bed in their wet hammocks.