Part 18

“Lieutenant Justice, of the _Sandwich_, was the second witness that was called. He knew nothing personal about me. Captain O’Bryen, of the _Nassau_, knew nothing about me. Captain Fancourt, of the _Agamemnon_, knew nothing personal about me. Captain Cobb, of the _Lion_, knew nothing of me. Captain Parr of the _Standard_, knew nothing personal of me. Captain Watson, of the _Isis_, and Captain Hargood, of the _Leopold_, knew nothing personal concerning me; and therefore, I have no observations to make upon their evidence. The next witness called was Mr. Snipe, surgeon of the _Sandwich_: He deposed, that on the 14th of May he was ordered to attend on deck, to be present at the punishment of a man of the name of Campbell, and that I ordered him to receive a dozen lashes. I was then upon the gangway, and had been sent there by the delegates to see the punishment executed. Mr. Bray, the master, who had then the command of the ship, was consulted about the punishment. The man had been convicted of getting beastly drunk, though he had said he had drunk nothing but small beer. I was then desired to caution the ship’s company not to get drunk till the business was settled; for if they did, they would undergo the same punishment as this man, which was what they had all agreed to inflict. With respect to his evidence about the sick man in irons, he was confined for disrespect to Captain Moss; and the answer which he states was given by me to him shows that he did not wish to interfere in the medical department. He says, also, that he was desired by me to use his influence with Admiral Buckner, that the whole sick of the fleet should be permitted to go on shore. This shows that we had a great regard for the sufferings of our fellow-creatures. Doctor Snipe further says, that when he went on shore he promised to return, but that he took good care not to do it till the ship was again under the command of Captain Moss. I wish here to ask whether it was praiseworthy and humane in the surgeon to leave the ship, when there were so many people dangerously sick on board, merely because his situation on board was not so comfortable as he could have wished? Captain Surridge, of the _Iris_, says he saw me with the delegates at the Commissioner’s house, in conversation with the admiral, and that I delivered the articles from the North Sea fleet. I declare, in the most solemn manner, that I had no conversation upon that occasion, but desired the Commissioner to examine the delegates of that fleet, in order to find out what would satisfy the minds of the men in that fleet. He says he saw no disrespect in my behaviour to the admiral. Captain Dickson of the _Espion’s_ evidence is answered by the observations I made upon the evidence given by the Admiral. Captain Wood, of the _Hound_, says that I told him not to be so violent with the delegates. I went on board the ship to secure his safety, for he had threatened to put the delegates to death. I desired the ship’s companies to be attentive to their officers, and not to make any slight or unfounded complaints of grievances. He says he was ordered out of his ship, and that the person who communicated the orders to him said it was by my direction. I declare solemnly, that I could safely assert, if I was going into the presence of God to-night, that I gave no such order; and that I did not know he was turned out of his ship, till I heard it stated in evidence in court. With respect to what he says of my having threatened to make beef-steak of the pilot at the yard-arm, for having put us into a foul berth, I deny having used any such expression, or that I ordered the anchor to be let go. With respect to the yard ropes, they were rove before I got on board; but in the confusion that necessarily prevailed, it was very easy for the captain to have mistaken the time of these circumstances happening, and the identical person who ordered them. Lieutenant Flat, of the _Sandwich_, said he did not know me before the disturbance broke out on board that ship; but, as I shall have occasion to ask that gentleman some more questions, I shall make no observations upon his evidence at present. William Levingstone, the boatswain of the _Director_, says: I was on board the _Director_ when she fired on the _Repulse_ while she was on shore; that I asked for a boat, with a flag of truce, to go on board that ship, in the hopes of being able to save innocent blood, and that I valued not my life. He says, also, that he heard me give the orders to fire, and that after it had commenced he did not see me. Samuel Hallard, the carpenter of the _Director_, says he saw me on board that ship, and heard me ask for the boat, to prevent, if I could, innocent blood from being spilt; that he heard the guns fired, but did not hear me give orders for it. The evidence of both these witnesses applies to the same time and the same facts; therefore my answer applies equally to both. In the first place it is necessary for me to account for my being on board the _Director_ at that time: there was a request for our band of music to sail round the different ships, and play three tunes—viz., “God save the King,” “Rule Brittania,” and “Britons strike Home”—and also that we should show the journal of our proceedings. I was directed by the delegates to comply with these requests. While I was in the boat I was told that the _Repulse_ was getting under weigh, and was advised to go on board the _Sandwich_. When I got on board I was told that the _Director_ was getting a spring upon her cable, in order to bring her broadside to bear upon the _Repulse_. I was then ordered by the delegates to go on board the _Director_; I went, and found the guns upon the quarterdeck loosed. I then desired permission to address the ship’s company, and pointed out to them the impropriety and cruelty of one brother firing upon another, and asked for a boat and a flag of truce to endeavour to prevent the consequences of such a measure. Finding myself refused, I determined to find out to what extremities they were inclined to go, and therefore I asked them if they would slip their cables and run alongside the _Repulse_; I was extremely happy to find they would not do it, for I proposed it merely to sound their intentions. I will now state to the court my reason for asking for a flag of truce. As the wind was favourable and the tide was rising I expected every minute to see the _Repulse_ get afloat, and make for Sheerness harbour. I wished, if possible, to get into her wake with the flag of truce to prevent her being fired at; for I hoped the other ships would respect the flag of truce, and not fire upon the _Repulse_ for fear of hurting her. I failed in my endeavours, and was obliged to give way to the storm, and to sanction measures which I abominated; and the orders I gave on that occasion were extorted from me by compulsion. I remained in the _Director_ till she ceased firing, in hopes of catching a favourable moment for softening matters; it is clear, therefore, that Burry must have mistaken some other person who might be at the gun with him, and might have used such language, for I will prove that I was on the _Director_ till the afternoon. Burry says that he saw me on board the _Monmouth_ that day, and that I assisted in pointing and fitting the gun at which he was six or seven times; and that I was not content with firing a nine-pound shot, but that I put in a crowbar. He speaks of being confined in different parts of the ship by a man called Captain Vance; and that I shook my fist when the _Repulse_ was afloat, and said, “D—n me, she is afloat;” and that I would send one of the outside ships after the _Leopard_ and send her to hell. On asking him if he had received any bribe or promise for giving this hellish account, he said he had not. I went back to the _Sandwich_ in the _Ardent’s_ boat. John Summerland does not recollect seeing me at any gun, or actively employed with my clothes off; but he says that I said I would get an outside ship and send her after the _Leopard_. In this particular both the witnesses agree; but I will call witnesses to prove to the court that I was not on board the _Monmouth_ while she was firing at the _Repulse_; and under the general confusion that must have prevailed at such a moment, it cannot be supposed that I had either leisure or inclination to go looking for such Don Quixote-like adventures. I saw the _Monmouth_ very active in firing upon the _Repulse_, and took the same measures with that ship that I had done with the _Director_. If I said I would take an outside ship and send her after the _Leopard_, it was with a view of preventing the _Monmouth_ from quitting her station to attack the _Repulse_, for I immediately went on board the _Sandwich_. Before the _Sandwich_ was delivered up to her officers, the _Montague_ made a signal for the delegates to assemble on board her; I did not go on board; their proceedings were extremely violent. Having now closed the remarks I had to make upon the evidence that has been given against me, I have only a few words to address to the court, not to remind them that where mercy can be shown it ought to be granted; but, assured from the candid manner in which the court has proceeded that justice will be done, I have only to ask that the evidence given by G. Burry may be examined in the strictest manner. I ask this for the purpose of clearing up my character, which is far dearer to me than a thousand lives; and though it has been misrepresented in the public prints, I hope the innocence of my intentions will appear. My country allows me justice; and justice I am sure I shall have from this honourable court.”

The prisoner then proceeded to examine his own witnesses, who were—the Right Hon. Lord Northesk, captain of the _Monmouth_; Captain John Knight, of the _Montague_; Mr. J. Swanson, gunner; Matthew Hollister, seaman of the _Director_; Thomas Burry, William Nobbs, and George Nicholls, seamen of the _Monmouth_; Samuel Beer, of the _Monmouth_; Matthew Hollister. Their evidence was but immaterial.

The evidence being closed, the President desired to know if there were any other witnesses, as the court would willingly continue its sittings to a late hour in order to get their testimony. The prisoner answered that he had no more evidence to examine. He hoped the circumstance of his giving up the command of the ship, and the other parts of his conduct, would receive the most favourable construction. At half-past one the court was cleared, and, at ten minutes before four, the prisoner being called in, the Deputy Judge-Advocate read the sentence of the court. After the commission under which the court sat had been read, it stated that it had proceeded to try Richard Parker on the charge of mutiny, disobedience of orders, and insolence to his officers; and that the said Richard Parker had been heard in his defence. The court did adjudge, that the whole of the said charge was fully proved, and that the said Richard Parker was guilty of the said crimes which it enumerated—crimes as unprecedented in their nature as wicked and destructive in their consequences. The court did, therefore, adjudge him, the said Richard Parker, to be hanged by the neck till he was dead; and the said Richard Parker was ordered to suffer death accordingly.

_Prisoner_: “I shall submit to your sentence with all due respect, being confident of the innocence of my intentions, and that God will receive me into favour; and I sincerely hope that my death will be the means of restoring tranquillity to the navy, and that those men who have been implicated in the business may be reinstated in their former situations, and again be serviceable to their country.”

_President_: “The court, in consideration of the repentance which is necessary to expiate your heinous offences, is willing to grant you some time for that purpose, and has not, therefore, ordered the sentence to be put into immediate execution, but leaves it to the Admiralty to appoint when and where you are to suffer.”

The prisoner bowed, and withdrew.

The behaviour of the unhappy man throughout the whole of his trial was firm and manly, and, while he was before the court, decent and respectful. During the trial the solicitor of the Admiralty received two letters for Parker, in one of which, from his brother, was enclosed a five-pound bank-note. They were delivered to him immediately in court.

The execution of Parker took place on the 30th June, 1797. On that day, at eight in the morning, a gun was fired from his Majesty’s ship _L’Espion_, lying off Sheerness garrison, Vice-Admiral Lutwidge’s flag-ship; and the yellow flag, the signal of capital punishment, was hoisted, which was immediately repeated by the _Sandwich_ hoisting the same colour on her fore-top. The _Sandwich_ was stationed rather above Blackstakes, the headmost ship of the fleet. The garrison was immediately under arms on the gun firing, and proceeded in single files along the south shore of the Medway, near to Queenborough, to be present at the execution. All the gates were then shut, and each ship sent a boat off, with a lieutenant and a party of marines, to attend the _Sandwich_; and the crews of all were piped to the forecastle, and the marines drawn up on the quarterdeck, to be witnesses of the execution. The prisoner was awakened a little after six o’clock from a sound sleep by the marshal-provost, 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 him. 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 bequeathed to his wife a little estate he said he was heir to—and after that lamented the misfortunes that had been brought on the country by the mutiny, but solemnly denied having the least connection or correspondence with any disaffected persons on shore; and declared that it was chiefly owing to him that the ships were not carried into the enemy’s ports. On his coming on deck he looked a little paler than common, but soon recovered his usual complexion. The chaplain told him that he had selected two appropriate psalms; to which the prisoner desired to add the 51st, and then recited each alternate verse in a manner peculiarly impressive. He heard the preparatory gun fired, at nine, without the smallest emotion; and prayers being ended, he rose, and asked Captain Moss if he might be indulged with a glass of white wine, which being immediately 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 all my enemies!” Addressing himself 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 entreating them to prepare for their destiny, and to refrain from unbecoming levity.” His arms being now bound, the procession moved to a platform erected on the cat-head, with an elevated projection. There Parker knelt with the chaplain, and joined in some devout ejaculations, to all which he repeated loudly, “Amen.” 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 may save the lives of others.” He now requested a minute to collect himself, and knelt down alone for that space of time; then rising up, said, “I am ready,” and, holding his head up with considerable dignity, said to the boatswain’s mate, “take off my handkerchief” (of black silk); which being done, 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 reeved rope. All this being adjusted, the provost attempted to put a cap on, which he refused; but on being told it was indispensable, he submitted, requesting that it might not be pulled over his eyes till he desired it. He then turned round for the first time, gave a steady look at his shipmates on the forecastle, and, with an affectionate smile, nodded his head, and said, “Good bye 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 a signal?” After some little pause, a gentleman stepped forward and gave him one; to whom, bowing, he returned his thanks. He now ascended the platform, repeated the same question about the gun, evidently to gain the time he wished, for the perfect completion of what he had preconcerted in his own mind; then, the cap being drawn over his face, walking by firm degrees up to the extremity of the scaffold, he dropped the handkerchief, put his hands in his coat-pockets with great rapidity, and at the moment he was springing off, the fatal bow gun fired, and the reeve rope catching him ran him up, though not with great velocity, to the yard-arm. When suspended about midway, his body appeared extremely convulsed for a few seconds, immediately after which no appearance of life remained. The instant he was visible to the garrison from the yard-arm, the telegraph was put in motion to announce it to the Admiralty, and from the clearness of the atmosphere and quickness of working, the advice must have been received in seven minutes. He suffered exactly at half-past nine, and was lowered down after hanging at the yard-arm a full hour; when the yellow flag was struck, and his body instantly put into a shell that had been prepared for it, with all his clothes on; and soon after it was taken in one of the _Sandwich’s_ boats, and rowed to the east point of the garrison, and there being landed was carried to the new naval burying-ground at Sheerness, out of the Red Barrier Gate, leading to Minster; the coffin-lid was here taken off in the presence of the spectators for a few minutes. His countenance appeared not much altered, but his eyes were wide open. He was interred exactly at noon. The whole conduct of this awful ceremony was extremely impressive. It was evident, from the countenance 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 scarcely a whisper, was heard.

Parker’s body was not allowed to rest in the naval burying-ground, in consequence of an affecting incident. His wife, it seems, was in Scotland when the Nore mutiny broke out, and on hearing that her husband was the ringleader, she hastened to London to endeavour to dissuade him from pursuing his guilty career. She arrived too late; Parker was tried and condemned; and she only reached Sheerness in time to witness his execution from a boat which approached the _Sandwich_ as near as it was permitted. She saw her husband appear on deck between two clergymen. She called on him, and he heard her voice, for he exclaimed, “There is my dear wife from Scotland.” Immediately afterwards she fell back in a state of insensibility, and did not recover till some time after she was taken ashore. She was excited almost to madness by the information that the surgeons would probably disinter the body that night. She therefore resolved on the following plan:—She hung about the churchyard till dusk, and then she contrived with some friends to scale the churchyard wall, and went to her husband’s grave. She there had the coffin dug up, and the lid removed, and after clasping the cold hand of Parker, she got several men to undertake the task of lifting the body. This was accomplished successfully, and at three o’clock in the morning, the shell containing the corpse was placed in a van and taken to Rochester, where, for the sum of six guineas, Mrs. Parker procured another waggon to carry it to London. On the road they met hundreds of persons all inquiring about and talking of the fate of “Admiral Parker,” as the common people called him. At eleven P.M. the van reached London; here the widow stopped at the Hoop and Horse Shoe, on Tower hill, which was full of people. A great crowd by-and-by assembled about the house, anxious to see the body of Parker. The Lord Mayor heard of the affair, and came and asked the widow what she intended to do with her husband’s remains. She replied, “To inter them decently at Exeter or in Scotland.” The Lord Mayor said the body would not be taken from her, but prevailed upon her to have it decently buried in London. Arrangements were made with this view, and finally the corpse of Parker was inhumed in Whitechapel churchyard, although not until it had to be removed to Aldgate workhouse, on account of the crowds attracted by it, which caused some fears lest “Admiral” Parker’s remains should create a public commotion.

The _Gentleman’s Magazine_ for 1797 thus records this singular affair:—

“The body of Parker, the mutineer, which was taken out of the new naval burying-ground at Sheerness, was brought to the Hoop and Horse Shoe public-house, Queen-street, Little Tower-hill, on Saturday evening. So large a concourse of persons assembled before the house next day, that a party of constables were stationed there, in order to keep the mob from breaking into the house; and the corpse was removed in the afternoon to the workhouse, in Nightingale-lane, by order of the parish officers. Mrs. Parker was taken before the sitting magistrates in Lambert-street, and examined touching the object of her taking up the body. Her answer was, ‘For the purpose of a more decent interment.’ It was buried this morning early in the vaults of Whitechapel church.”

Mrs. Parker long survived her husband, and latterly fell into distress; and among other relief received by her was at one time £10, and at another £20, from King William IV.

In the year 1797 lay in his death-illness the master spirit of that political period, the Right Hon. Edmund Burke, who, heart-broken at the loss of his only son, took no further interest in the concerns of private life, but devoted his whole mind to the state of public affairs. Amid the startling and depressing news of Napoleon’s triumphant campaign in Italy, the victory of St. Vincent somewhat revived Burke’s spirits, but then these naval mutinies came to sadden him again—to sadden but not to subdue him. The ministry of the day sought counsel and courage from the dying man’s energy. One of the conferences of Government with him is thus referred to in an able biography of Wilberforce:—“During the awful crisis of the mutiny, he (Wilberforce) saw the last gleams of (take him for all in all) the greatest luminary of the eighteenth century.” Wilberforce, in his own diary, says:—“Monday, April 17.—Heard of Portsmouth mutiny; consultation with Burke ... The whole scene is now before me. Burke was lying on a sofa much emaciated, and Windham, Laurence, and some other friends were around him. The attention shown to Burke by that party was just like the treatment of Ahithopel of old; it was as if one went to inquire of the oracle of the Lord.”