The Newgate calendar report of the mutiny at the Nore

                                                   Led by

                                             RICHARD PARKER

Richard Parker had received a good education, was bred to the navy, and about the conclusion of the American War was an acting lieutenant in one of his Majesty's ships. He soon came into the possession of a considerable sum of money, and shortly after he arrived in this country and married a farmer's daughter in Aberdeenshire, with whom he received a decent patrimony.

At this time, being without employment, he devoted himself to every species of dissipation, which soon finished his fortune and involved him in debt, on account of which he was cast into the jail of Edinburgh, where he was at the time the country was raising seamen for the navy.

He then entered as one of the volunteers for Perthshire, received the bounty, and was released from prison, upon paying the creditor a part of his bounty. He was put on board the tender then in Leith Roads, which carried him, with many others, to the Nore.

On the passage the captain distinguished Parker, both by his activity and polite address. He was known in the mutinous fleet by the appellation of "Admiral Parker", for Captain Watson, of the Leith tender, before he sailed from the Nore, was ordered, by the crew of the Sandwich, to come on board, which he did, and was then introduced to, and interrogated by, Parker, whom he knew on first sight. Parker also recollected him, and from this circumstance he experienced great favour.

Parker ordered every man on board to treat Captain Watson well, saying he was a seamen's friend, and had treated him well, and that if any man used him otherwise he should instantly be --. Here he pointed to the rope at the yardarm.

Captain Watson took an opportunity of hinting to Parker the impropriety of his conduct, and the consequences that might follow. It seemed to throw a momentary damp on his spirits; but he expressed a wish to waive the subject, and Captain Watson proceeded on his voyage.

The mutiny was happily suppressed, and a considerable reward being offered for the apprehension of Parker, the accounted ringleader, on the arrival of Lieutenant Mott, with the proclamations, etc., the crews of all the ships readily submitted. Parker himself could not oppose this spirit.

In consequence of this the Sandwich came under the guns of Sheerness, and Admiral Buckner's boat, commanded by the coxswain, and containing a picket guard of the West York Militia, went on board, to bring Parker on shore. Several of the officers of the Sandwich were on deck, but very few of the men appeared. As soon as Parker heard that a boat had come for him he surrendered himself to four of the ship's crew, to protect him against the outrages of the other seamen, whose vengeance he feared.

Admiral Buckner's coxswain told the officers on deck his business, and claimed their assistance. The lieutenant drew his sword, and the party, consisting of eight or ten, went down below, where Parker was surrendered into their hands. They tied his hands together behind, and the officers conducted him into the boat, which had eight or ten rowers, and a party of the West York Militia seated in the head, with their faces towards the stern, and their muskets held upright in their hands, ready charged. Parker was seated in the stern part, with his face towards the head; behind him was the coxswain, and before him the lieutenant of the Sandwich, holding a drawn sword over him. On landing, he was much hissed, when he said aloud: "Do not hoot me; it is not my fault. I will clear myself."

He was then sent to Maidstone Jail, under a strong guard, his arms being tied behind his back. After a long trial, which commenced soon after his apprehension, he was found guilty.

After a solemn pause of nearly ten minutes the Lord Advocate rose and, with his head uncovered, read the awful sentence -- viz. "The Court judges Richard Parker to suffer death, and to be hanged by the neck, on board any one of his Majesty's ships, and at such time as the Lords of the Admiralty may think proper to appoint."

The prisoner listened to the sentence without emotion, and addressed the Court as follows:-- "I have heard your sentence; I shall submit to it without a struggle. I feel thus, because I am sensible of the rectitude of my intentions. Whatever offences may have been committed, I hope my life will be the only sacrifice. I trust it will be thought a sufficient atonement. Pardon, I beseech you, the other men; I know they will return with alacrity to their duty."

The president then briefly addressed himself to the prisoner. He said that, notwithstanding the enormity of the crimes of which he had been found guilty, on the fullest and clearest evidence, yet the Court, in order to afford him the necessary time to expiate his offcnces, and to make his peace with God, would then not name any day for his execution, but leave that point to the determination of Lhe lords of the admiralty. The prisoner then withdrew, and was soon put in irons.

The time of his execution was fixed for Friday, the 30th of June. 1797. At eight o'clock in the morning a gun was fired on board his Majesty's ship L'Espion, lying off Sheerness garrison, Vice-Admiral Lutwidge's flagship, and the yellow flag, the signal of capital punishment, was hoisted, which was immediately repeated by the Sandwich hoisting the same colour on her foretop.

The prisoner was awakened a little after six o'clock, from a sound sleep, by the provost-marshal, who, with a file of marines, composed his guard; he arose with cheerfulness, and requested permission might be asked for a barber to attend him, which was granted. He soon dressed himself in a neat suit of mourning (waistcoat excepted), wearing his half-boots over a pair of black silk stockings. He then took his breakfast, talked of a will he had written, in which he had bequeathed to his wife a little estate he said he was heir to, and after that lamented the misfortune that had been brought on the country by the mutiny, but solemnly denied having the least connection or correspondence with any disaffected persons ashore; and declared that it was chiefly owing to him that the ships had not been carried into the enemy's ports.

At half past eight he was told the chaplain of the ship was ready to attend him to prayers upon the quarter-deck, which he immediately ascended, uncovered: at his first entrance on the deck he looked a little paler than corn mon, but soon recovered his usual complexion; he bowed to t lie officers, and, a chair being allowed him, he sat down for a few moments: he then arose, and told the clergyman he wished to attend him: the chaplain informed him he had selected two psalms appropriate to his situation; to which the pris oner, assenting, said, "And with your permission, sir, I will add a third," and named the 51st. He then recited each alternate verse in a manner peculiarly impressive.

At nine o'clock the preparatory gun was fired from L'Espion, which he heard without the smallest emotion. Prayers being soon after closed, he rose, and asked Captain Moss "if he might be indulged with a glass of white wine": which being granted, he took it, and, lifting up his eyes, exclaimed, "I drink first to the salvation of my soul! and next to the forgiveness of my enemies!" Addressing him self to Captain Moss, he said, "he hoped he would shake hands with him"; which the captain did: he then desired "that he might be remembered to his companions on board the Neptune; with his last breath sent an entreaty to them to prepare for their destiny, and refrain from unbecoming levity." His arms were now bound, and the procession moved from the quarterdeck to the forecastle, passing through a double file of marines on the starboard side, to a platform erected on the cat-head, with an elevated projection. Arriving there, he knelt with the chaplain, and joined in some devout ejaculations, to all of which he repeated loudly, "Amen." Rising again, the Admiral's warrant of execution, addressed to Captain Moss, was now read by the clerk, in which the sentence of the court martial, the order of the Board of Admiralty and his Majesty's approbation of the whole proceedings were fully recited, which the prisoner heard with great attention, and bowed his head, as if in assent, at the close of it. He now asked the captain whether he might be allowed to speak, and immediately apprehending his intention might be misconceived he added: "I am not going, sir, to address the ship's company. I wish only to declare that I acknowledge the justice of the sentence under which I suffer; and I hope my death may be deemed a sufficient atonement, and save the lives of others."

He then requested a minute to collect himself, and knelt down alone, about that space of time; then rose up and said: "I am ready." Holding his head up, he said to the boatswain's mate: "Take off my handkerchief (of black silk); which was done, and the provost-marshal placed the halter over his head (which had been prepared with grease,) but, doing it awkwardly, the prisoner said rather pettishly to the boatswain's mate, "Do you do it, for he seems to know nothing about it." The halter was then spliced to the reeve-rope: all this being adjusted, the marshal attempted to put a cap on, which he refused; but, on being told that it was indispensable, he submitted, requesting it might not be pulled over his eyes till he desired it. He then turned round, for the first time, and gave a steady look at his shipmates on the forecastle, and, with an affectionate kind of smile, nodded his head, and said "Good-by to you!" He now said, "Captain Moss, is the gun primed?" -- "It is." -- "Is the match alight?" -- "All is ready."-- On this he advanced a little, and said, "Will any gentleman be so good as to lend me a white handkerchief for the signal?" After some little pause, a gentleman stepped forward and gave him one; to whom bowing, he returned thanks. He now ascended the platform, and repeated the same questions about the gun. He now ascended the platform. The cap was then drawn over his face, and he walked by firm degrees up to the extremity of the scaffold, and dropped a white handkerchief, which he had borrowed from one of the gentlemen present, and put his hands in his coat-pockets with great rapidity. At the moment he sprang off, the fatal bow-gun fired, and the reeve-rope, catching him, ran him up, though not with great velocity, to the yardarm. When suspended about midway his body appeared extremely convulsed for a few seconds, immediately after which no appearance of life remained.

It being ebb of tide, the starboard yard-arm pointed to the Isle of Grain, where scaffolding was erected for the spectators on shore; a considerable number of yachts, cutters, and other craft, surrounded the Sandwich. The last time the prisoner knelt with the chaplain at the cat-head, though he made his responses regularly, his attention was particularly directed the whole time to the armed boats of the fleet, which were plying round on duty. The whole conduct of this awful ceremony was extremely decorous and impressive; it was evident, from the countenances of the crew of the Sandwich, that the general feeling for the fate of their mutinous conductor was such as might be wished: not a word, and scarce a whisper, was heard among them.

The behaviour of this unhappy man, throughout the whole of his trial, was firm and manly; while he was before the Court, decent and respectful, and from the time he received his sentence, till his execution, resigned and penitent. The uncommon fortitude he displayed during his trial did not forsake him even in the last moments of his wretched existence.

                                      The Mutiny At The Nore

                                           Sheerness Guardian June 12th 1869
The following interesting account of the Mutiny at the Nore was written by an eye-witness of the events described, then a workman in the Sheerness Dockyard.

On the 12th May, 1797, I was on board the Sandwich when the mutiny broke out. I saw them point guns that were on the forecastle aft, towards the captain’s cabin, with intent to fire on the officers, in case they attempted to oppose them. The next thing they did was to reeve the yard ropes, with a view to hang any of the officers who might attempt to stay their career.

“First I should have told you how they treated their officers on board the Sandwich. When they had formed their committee, they went on to the quarter-deck, and told the captain that he might keep his cabin. They then called the first lieutenant and told him they wanted no more of his services there was a boat, or if he would step on the forecastle, there was a rope, whichever he pleased.

The ropes were reeved on the yards for the express purpose of hanging any of the officers who might attempt to oppose them, or any of the men who might revolt from their cause. They were all bound upon oath to be true one to the other. The next demand they made was for the keys of the magazine and spirit store-room. The same thing was done in every ship throughout the fleet.

On the 13th May all the delegates came on shore, with a large red flag flying. In that manner they paraded the Blue Houses and Garrison, with a band of music and their colours flying every day.

On the 14th May they went to the sick quarters to enquire how the sick were treated. (The sick quarters were in the buildings known as the “Old Swan,” which were pulled down before Albion Place was built .
“On the 14th the ships of the fleet then in port all began to turn their officers on shore.

About the 22nd, Admiral Buckner left shore to go to the Sandwich, all the delegates following him in boats to the number of twenty-three, to try and settle their grievances if possible, but did not succeed.

On the 28th, about two o’clock in the afternoon, orders were given for the guns round the battery to be shotted and furnaces got ready to heat red hot balls. The inhabitants were in great anxiety of mind.

On the 30th, about two o’clock in the morning, nine or ten guns from the battery were fired The distress and grief which fell upon the three or four thousand inhabitants it is beyond the reach of my pen to describe.
The 31st was a day ever to be remembered in Sheerness for the distress. Mothers were carrying their suckling children at their breasts, and the disconsolate husbands carrying their little property down to the Chatham boat.

From I believe, about the 30th, many of the mutineering ships slipped their cables and ran through the fleet receiving fire from what shall I call them- butchers, yes-not British seaman. and came into the harbour, every man in the ships turning in favour of the King.

June 6th.- we are and have been for some days as we may say in a state of siege.

June 9th.- The wind strong from the East. About two hours before high water the whole fleet their topsails loose, and some guns were fired, which caused us to be very much alarmed.

June 10th.- Things appeared much more favourable. That morning a great number of ships in the fleet did not hoist the red flag, but hoisted up the union jack instead.

The state of the Nore fleet at the time of the Mutiny

Ships	Guns		Ships	Guns		Ships	Guns
Sandwich	90		Inflexible	64		Grampus	54
Brilliant	36		Phaeton	36		Champion	32
Director	64		Niger	32		Tisiphone	24
Iris	32		Le Epsion	24		St. Fiorenzo	36
Swan	18		Clyde	36
On May 31st the following ships joined:-
Standard	64		Montague	74		Monmouth	64
Repulse	64		Lion	64		Isis	50
On June 5th the following also joined:-
Agamemnon	64		Ranger	18		Leopard	50
Belligneux	64		Nassau	64		Inspector	20
Ardent	64		Palades