baker at Bedfont, and that the prisoner was a bailiff. On the 22nd June,
the latter was entrusted with a writ of execution against Mr. Spurling;
and accompanied by his follower, a man named Taylor, he proceeded to
Bedfont, to secure his person. The debt amounted to 16_l._ 7_s._; and at
two o'clock at night the prisoner made his appearance at the
prosecutor's house. Upon his being required to explain his business, he
said that he had a writ, and that Mr. Spurling must accompany him to
Newgate. Mr. Spurling demurred at proceeding to prison at so late an
hour at night, and suggested that he might settle the demand; but the
prisoner, with all the insolence usually assumed by persons holding
similar situations, declared that there was no use in talking, and that
the prosecutor must hire a post-chaise, and go off with him at once.
This new demand of a post-chaise was looked upon as a hardship, almost
equal to that of going to prison, by Mr. Spurling, and he offered his
own one-horse chaise for the purpose of his transportation to town, but
all was of no avail; the bailiff and the bully were united in the person
of Mr. Scoldwell, and nothing but a post-chaise and an immediate visit
to Newgate would suit his pleasure. At length, however, Mr. Taylor, his
follower, whose caution was rather greater than that of his master,
ventured to inquire what sort of a settlement could be tendered by Mr.
Spurling, and the latter immediately offered to pay 15_l._, which he had
in the house, and to give security for the remainder of the debt. "Have
you a watch?" peremptorily demanded Mr. Scoldwell, "if so, I must have
it;" and the poor baker was compelled to give up his watch, worth four
times the amount of the balance of the demand. The officer, however, was
not yet satisfied. "Such gentlemen as we," said he, "cannot come into
the country without something to cover our expenses. You must pay us for
our trouble and time;" and ten shillings in halfpence, the amount of the
day's earnings in the shop, were handed over to him. His wife was as
much an object of consideration as himself, he next suggested. She had
been deprived of his company, and he must carry something to her by way
of a recompense. Were there no fowls in the house? Mr. Spurling had
none. A goose would do;--Mrs. Scoldwell was very fond of goose, and Mr.
Spurling being entitled to a goose which was feeding on the common,
Taylor was despatched to take possession of it on behalf of his master.
Still, however, the bailiff was dissatisfied; and he demanded that some
additional security should be given for the debt; and having discovered
that the baker had a lease of his house, he procured that also to be
delivered to him, together with a note for forty pounds, with a
condition, that unless the debt and costs were paid within twenty-one
days all should be his. Thus pretty well secured, the prisoner, between
four and five o'clock in the morning, proposed to depart, and the baker
proceeded to his oven. While there, however, he saw the prisoner go to
his stable where his ducks were confined, and in the morning the two
ducks, mentioned in the indictment, were found to have been carried off.
On his way to London, the prisoner joked with the stage-coachman about
his having done the baker out of his watch, and having carried off his
ducks without his knowledge; and Mr. Spurling having subsequently
redeemed his watch, lease, and the note of hand for 40_l._, by paying
the balance of the debt and the costs, he immediately gave the prisoner
into custody.
These facts being clearly proved in evidence, the Recorder summed up the
case to the jury, and a verdict of guilty was returned.
The prisoner was afterwards sentenced to seven years transportation a
punishment which he richly deserved.
JOSEPH HODGES AND RICHARD PROBIN.
CONVICTED OF CROSS DROPPING.
The trick of cross-dropping has become so notorious of late years, that,
any description of the mode in which it was practised is almost
unnecessary. As, however, this is the first case of the kind with which
we have met in the course of our search in the records of crime, we
shall give it a place in our calendar.
The dupe, in this instance, was William Headley, an ironmonger at
Cambridge, who, on the trial of these robbers, deposed that on the 7th
of July 1796, he was in town, going from Shoe-lane to the Angel Inn, St.
Clement's, to take a place on the outside of the coach to go into
Wiltshire; when he met Hodges who was a stranger in Butcher-row, and
left him to take his place. He went on to Clare Market, where Hodges
overtook him, and they walked together through Portugal-street. While in
that street Hodges suddenly stopped, and clapping his cane on a parcel
which was lying on the ground, said that he had a "finding." He picked
up the parcel, and opened the outer covering, and the witness saw in it
something like a red pocket-book. He inquired what it was? but the
prisoner refused to show him in the street, and they, in consequence,
went into a public-house in order to open it. Having called for some
liquor, the prisoner opened the parcel, and produced from it what looked
like a diamond cross, and a receipt in the following terms:--
"London. 20th June, 1796. Received of John King, Esq. the sum of three
hundred and twenty pounds, for one brilliant diamond cross, by me,
William Smith."
The prisoner seemed much alarmed and confused on seeing this, but the
witness having read the receipt, suggested that the parcel should be
taken to Mr. Smith. This, however, was opposed by Hodges, who asked
whether they had not better inquire of the gentleman sitting by (the
prisoner Probin) what his opinion was? This was assented to, and upon
his being addressed, he suggested that Hodges ought to give the witness
a present, as having been by when the cross was found, and that he
should keep it. The cross was then taken out and examined, and Hodges
said that he did not mind giving the witness something, but he must go
to his banker's first, and get some drafts changed. He then went out,
leaving the cross with the witness and Probin, but returned, saying that
his banker was out, and could not be seen until four o'clock, and a
meeting at that hour was eventually appointed to take place at the Angel
Inn, St. Clement's. Each party then gave his name. Hodges said that he
came from Worcester, and was a hop-merchant; and Probin said that his
name was William Jones, and that he lived at No. 7, Charing-cross. A
discussion now took place, to whom the care of the cross should be
entrusted; and Probin suggested, that the witness perhaps would be
better satisfied if it were left in his hands, and that if he deposited
something he might carry it away until four o'clock. He asked what would
be required, and they said that he ought to leave one hundred pounds at
least. He then produced a Bank bill, payable on demand, for that amount
from his stocking, where he had concealed it, and handing it to Hodges,
he said that that would do. The witness then went away, but subsequently
showing the cross to a friend, he found that it was quite valueless.
Information was, in consequence, given at Bow-street of the robbery, and
both prisoners were apprehended in the course of the ensuing day, money
to the amount of nearly fifty pounds being found on each. It afterwards
turned out, that the prisoner Hodges changed Mr. Headley's Bank bill
almost immediately after he had received it. In his possession was found
a second cross, precisely similar to that palmed off upon the
prosecutor.
The prisoners being found guilty, were sentenced to be transported for
seven years.
THE MUTINY AT THE NORE. RICHARD PARKER.
EXECUTED FOR MUTINY.
In the year 1797, when the threatening aspect of affairs abroad made the
condition of her naval force a matter of vital consequence to Britain,
several most alarming mutinies broke out among the various fleets
stationed around the shores of the country. In April of the year
mentioned, the seamen of the grand fleet lying at Portsmouth disowned
the authority of their officers, seized upon the ships, and declared
their determination not to lift an anchor, or obey any orders
whatsoever, until certain grievances of which they complained were
redressed. After some delay, satisfactory concessions were made to them
by the government, and the men returned to their duty. But the spirit of
insubordination had spread among other squadrons in the service, and
about the middle of May, immediately after the Portsmouth fleet had
sailed peacefully for the Bay of Biscay, the seamen of the large fleet
lying at the Nore broke out also into open mutiny. The most prominent
personage in this insurrection was an individual named Richard Parker,
whose history it is our object in this paper to lay before the reader.
Richard Parker was a native of Exeter, where he was born about the year
1765 or 1766. His father was a reputable tradesman, and kept a baker's
shop at St. Sidwell's, in the bounds of the city mentioned. Young Parker
received an excellent education, and in the course of time went to sea,
which he had chosen as the scene of his future career. He served for a
considerable period in the royal navy as midshipman and master's mate,
and at one period also, it is said, held the post of lieutenant. He
appears to have given up the naval profession on his marriage with Miss
Ann Machardy, a young lady resident in Exeter, but of Scottish origin,
being a member of a respectable family in the county of Aberdeen. This
connexion led Parker to remove to Scotland, where he embarked in some
mercantile speculations that proved unsuccessful. The issue was, that he
ere long found himself involved in difficulties, and without the means
to maintain his wife and two children. In Edinburgh, where these
embarrassments fell upon him, he had no friends to apply to, and, in a
moment of desperation, he took the king's bounty, and became a common
sailor on board a tender at Leith. When he communicated to his wife the
step he had taken, she was in the greatest distress, and resolved to set
off instantly for Aberdeen, in order to procure from her brother there
the means of hiring two seamen as substitutes for her husband. Though
successful in raising the necessary funds, no time was allowed her to
complete her project. On her return from Aberdeen, she was only in time
to see the tender sail for the Nore, with her husband on board. Her
grief on this occasion was bitterly aggravated by the death of one of
her children. Parker's sufferings were shown to be equally acute by his
conduct when the vessel sailed. Exclaiming that he saw the body of his
child floating on the waves, he leaped overboard, and was with
difficulty rescued and restored to life.
It was in the beginning of May 1797 that Parker reached the Nore, or
point of land dividing the mouths of the Thames and the Medway.
Probably on account of his former experience and station as a seaman,
he was drafted on board the Sandwich, which was the guard-ship, and bore
the flag of Admiral Buckner, the port-admiral. The mutinous spirit which
afterwards broke out, certainly existed on board of the Nore squadron
before Parker's arrival. Communications were kept up in secret between
the various crews, and the mischief was gradually drawing to a head. But
though he did not originate the feeling of insubordination, the ardent
temper, boldness, and superior intelligence of Parker, soon became known
to his comrades, and he became a prominent man among them. Their plans
being at length matured, the seamen rose simultaneously against their
officers, and deprived them of their arms, as well as of all command in
the ships, though behaving respectfully to them in all other respects.
Each vessel was put under the government of a committee of twelve men,
and, to represent the whole body of seamen, every man-of-war appointed
two delegates, and each gun-boat one, to act for the common good. Of
these delegates Richard Parker was chosen president, and, in an unhappy
hour for himself, he accepted the office. This representative body drew
up a list of grievances, of which they demanded the removal, offering to
return immediately afterwards to their duty. It is unnecessary to
specify these demands further, than that they related to increase of pay
and provisions, a more equal division of prize-money, liberty to go on
shore, proper payment of arrears, and other points of naval discipline.
A committee of naval inquiry subsequently _granted_ almost all that was
demanded, thereby acknowledging the general justice of the complaints
made. Parker signed these documents, and they were published over the
whole kingdom with his name, as well as presented to Port-admiral
Buckner, through whom they were sent to government.
When these proceedings commenced, the mutineers were suffered to go on
shore, and they paraded about Sheerness, where a part of the fleet lay,
with music, flags (_red_ in colour--the customary hue of
insubordination), and other appendages of a triumphal procession. But,
on the 22d of May, troops were sent to Sheerness to put a stop to this
indulgence. Being thus confined to their ships, the mutineers, having
come to no agreement with Admiral Buckner, began to take more decisive
measures for extorting compliance with their demands, as well as for
insuring their own safety. The vessels at Sheerness moved down to the
Nore, and the combined force of the insurgents, which at its greatest
height consisted of twenty-four sail, proceeded to block up the Thames,
by refusing a free passage, up or down, to the London trade. Foreign
vessels, and a few small craft, were suffered to go by, first receiving
a passport, signed by Richard Parker as president of the delegates. In a
day or two the mutineers had an immense number of vessels under
detention. The mode in which they kept these was as follows:--The ships
of war were ranged in a line, at considerable distances from each other,
and in the interspaces were placed the merchant-vessels, having the
broadsides of the men-of-war pointed to them. The appearance of the
whole assemblage is described as having been at once grand and
appalling. The red flag floated from the mast-head of every one of the
mutineer ships. It may be well imagined that the alarm of the citizens
of London was extreme. The government, however, though unable at the
period to quell the insurgents by force, remained firm in their demand
of "unconditional submission as a necessary preliminary to any
intercourse." This, perhaps, was the very best line of conduct that
could have been adopted. The seamen, to their great honour, never seemed
to think of assuming an offensive attitude, and were thereby left in
quiet to meditate on the dangerous position in which they stood in
hostility to a whole country. They grew timorous; the more so, as the
government had caused all the buoys to be removed from the mouth of the
Thames and the adjacent coasts, so that no vessel durst attempt to move
away for fear of running aground. The mutineering vessels held together,
nevertheless, till the 30th of May, when the Clyde frigate was carried
off through a combination of its officers with some of the seamen, and
was followed by the St. Fiorenzo. These vessels were fired upon, but
escaped up the river.
On the 4th of June, the king's birth-day, the Nore fleet showed that
their loyalty to their sovereign was undiminished, by firing a general
salute. On the 5th, another frigate left the fleet, but its place was
supplied by a sloop and four men-of-war, which had left Admiral Duncan's
fleet at the Texel to join the mutiny. On the 6th, Lord Northesk met the
delegates by desire on board the Sandwich, and received from them
proposals for an accommodation, to which the unfortunate Parker still
put his name as president. The answer was a direct refusal, and this
firmness seems to have fairly humbled the remaining spirit of the
mutineers. From that time one vessel after another deserted the band,
and put themselves under the protection of the fort at Sheerness. On the
10th, the merchantmen were allowed by common consent to pass up the
river, and such a multitude of ships certainly never entered a port by
one tide. By the 12th, only seven ships had the red flag flying, and on
the 16th the mutiny had terminated, every ship having been restored to
the command of its officers. A party of soldiers went on board the
Sandwich, and to them the officers surrendered the delegates of the
ship, namely, a man named Davies, and Richard Parker.
Richard Parker, to whom the title of Admiral Parker had been given by
the fleet and by the public during the whole of this affair, was the
individual on whom all eyes were turned as the ringleader of the
mutineers. He was brought singly to trial on the 22d of June, after
being confined during the interval in the black-hole of Sheerness
garrison. Ten officers, under the presidency of Vice-Admiral Sir Thomas
Paisley, composed the court-martial, which sat on board the Neptune, off
Greenhithe. The prisoner conducted his own defence, exhibiting great
presence of mind, and preserving a respectful and manly deference
throughout for his judges. The prosecution on the part of the Crown
lasted two days, and on the 26th, Parker called witnesses in his favour,
and read a long and able defence which he had previously prepared. The
line of argument adopted by him was--that the situation he had held had
been in a measure forced upon him; that he had consented to assume it
chiefly from the hope of restraining the men from excesses; that he had
restrained them in various instances; that he might have taken all the
ships to sea, or to an enemy's ports, had his motives been disloyal, &c.
&c. Parker unquestionably spoke the truth on many of these points.
Throughout the whole affair, the injury done to property was trifling,
the taking of some flour from a vessel being the chief act of the kind.
This was mainly owing to him. But he had indubitably been the head of
the mutineers. He was proved to have gone from ship to ship giving
orders, and haranguing the men--to have been cheered as he passed
along, and treated with the honours of a chief. Nothing could save him.
He was sentenced to death. When his doom was pronounced, he stood up,
and uttered these words in a firm voice: "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."
On the morning of the 30th of June, the yellow flag, the signal of
death, was hoisted on board of the Sandwich, where Richard Parker lay,
and where he was to meet his fate. The whole fleet was ranged a little
below Sheerness, in sight of the Sandwich, and the crew of every ship
was piped to the forecastle. Parker was awaked from a sound sleep on
that morning, and after being shaved, he dressed himself in a suit of
deep mourning. He mentioned to his attendants that he had made a will,
leaving his wife heir to some property belonging to him. On coming to
the deck, he was pale, but perfectly composed, and drank a glass of wine
"to the salvation of his soul, and forgiveness of all his enemies!." He
said nothing to his mates on the forecastle but "Good bye to you," and
expressed a hope that "his death would be deemed a sufficient atonement,
and save the lives of others!" He was strung up to the yard-arm at
half-past nine o'clock. A dead silence reigned among the crews around
during the ceremony. In closing their account of this affair, the
journals of the day state that the body of Parker was put into a shell,
and interred, within an hour or two after the execution, in the New
Naval Burying Ground at Sheerness. A curious sequel to this account,
however, it is now in our power to present to the reader.
Richard Parker's unfortunate wife had not left Scotland, when the rumour
came to her ears that the Nore fleet had mutinied, and that the
ringleader was one Richard Parker. She could not doubt that this was her
husband, and immediately took a place in the mail for London, to save
him if possible. On her arrival, she heard that Parker had been tried,
but the result was unknown. Being able to think of no way but
petitioning the king, she gave a person a guinea to draw up a paper,
praying that her husband's life might be spared. She attempted to make
her way with this to his majesty's presence, but was obliged finally to
hand it to a lord-in-waiting, who gave her the cruel intelligence that
all applications for mercy would be attended to, except for Parker. The
distracted woman then took coach for Rochester, where she got on board a
king's ship, and learnt that Parker was to be executed next day: she sat
up, in a state of unspeakable wretchedness, the whole of that night, and
at four o'clock in the morning went to the river-side, to hire a boat to
take her to the Sandwich, that she might at least bid her poor husband
farewell. Her feelings had been deeply agonised by hearing every person
she met talking on the subject of her distress, and now, the first
waterman to whom she spoke exclaimed, "No! I cannot take one passenger.
The brave Admiral Parker is to die to-day, and I will get any sum I
choose to ask for a party." Finally, the wretched wife was glad to go on
board a Sheerness market-boat, but no boat was allowed to come alongside
the Sandwich. In her desperation she called on Parker by name, and
prevailed on the boat-people, by the mere spectacle of her suffering,
to attempt to go nearer, when they were stopped by a sentinel
threatening to fire at them. As the hour drew nigh, 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. By this time
all was over, but the poor woman could not believe it so. She hired
another boat, and again reached the Sandwich. Her exclamation from the
boat must have startled all who heard it. "Pass the word," she cried, in
her delusion, "for Richard Parker!" The truth was now told to her, and
she was further informed that his body had just been taken ashore for
burial. She immediately caused herself to be rowed ashore again, and
proceeded to the churchyard, but found the ceremony over, and the gate
locked. She then went to the admiral and sought the key, which was
refused to her. Excited almost to madness by the information that the
surgeons would probably disinter the body that night, she waited around
the churchyard till dusk, and then, clambering over the wall, readily
found her husband's grave. The shell was not buried deep, and she was
not long in scraping away the loose earth that intervened between her
and the object of her search. She got the lid removed, and then she
clasped the cold hand of her husband in her own!
Her determination to possess the body aroused the widow from the
enjoyment of this melancholy pleasure. She left the churchyard, and
communicated her situation to two women, who, in their turn, 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 conveyed 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." At eleven P.M. the van
reached London; but here the poor widow had no private house or friends
to go to, and was obliged to stop at the Hoop and Horse-Shoe on
Tower-Hill, which was full of people. Mrs. Parker got the body into her
room, and sat down beside it; but the secret could not long be kept in
such a place, more particularly as the news of the exhumation had been
brought by express that day to London. A great crowd, by and bye,
assembled about the house, anxious to see the body of Parker, which,
however, the widow would not permit. The Lord Mayor heard of the affair,
and came to ask 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 that the body would not be taken from her, but
prevailed on her to have it decently buried in London. Arrangements were
made with this view, and finally the corpse of the unfortunate 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,
and which caused some fears lest "Admiral Parker's remains should create
a civil war." After the closing ceremony was over, Mrs. Parker, who had
in person seen her husband consigned to the grave, gave a certificate
that all had been done to her satisfaction. But, though strictly
questioned as to the parties who had aided her in the disinterment, she
firmly refused to disclose their names.