The area of operations in Lewrie and the Hogshead as views from space. The Turks and Caicos are at lower left, Inagua, Bahamas, in the center, and Cuba under the cloud bank in the upper right.

Over the Christmas Holiday we received an extra treat. Dewey Lambdin released a novelette in advance of the release of the newest Alan Lewrie naval adventure, Hostile Shores, scheduled for release on 26 February. This novelette is Lewrie and the Hogshead.

When last we saw Captain Sir Alan Lewrie, Baronet, in Reefs and Shoals  he was the senior officer commanding in the Bahamas after his bête noire, the porcine Captain Francis Forrester, had run his own ship aground while in pursuit of a non-existent threat to the Bahamas and been cashiered by a court-martial. (As a matter of schadenfreude, I enjoy the way that Lewrie is seeing people who detested him and wronged him in the past receive the cleansing benefits of karma. Maybe in some future post I will enumerate those to whom a future reckoning is due.)

The Bahamas are largely a lazy backwater in 1805 and Lewrie is cooling his heels aboard his HMS Reliant leaving the patrolling to his subordinates, a proto-Nelsonian ‘band of brothers’, as he knows the local mercantile interests will panic if Reliant puts to sea.

One of his brigs, HMS Fulmar, arrives in port bearing the survivors of an American merchantman, the Santee, which had run afoul of a Spanish privateer. Bored and under pressure from the American consul to do something, Lewrie investigates. The more questions he asks the more it becomes apparent that the American master is being parsimonious with the truth.

Leaving one of his subordinates as senior officer aboard Reliant, Lewrie takes to sea with two small combatants to find out what happened to the Santee and why its master can’t quite get his stories straight.

Without giving it all away, the plot involves a continuation of that in Reefs and Shoals – the chronic violation of Britain’s attempts to blockade its enemies by American merchants insisting of the right of neutral vessels to trade where they pleased — and explores some of the reasons for the maritime friction that eventually led to the War of 1812.

There is nothing in the novelette that moves either the Lewrie character or the series forward, so if you miss it you won’t find it critical to enjoying the next novel. It is short it is an enjoyable and relatively short read that will be welcomed by Lewrie fans. We hope that Mr. Lambdin does this more frequently in the future.

How effective was French privateering operations against British commerce? Not very. It was a nuisance, siphoning off numerous minor combatants to protect convoys and patrol against privateers but the losses were minor. As a strategic weapon aimed at the British economy it was an abysmal failure.

The highlight of Reefs and Shoals is the small boat action on the St. Mary’s River. Like so many incidents by Pope or O’Brian or Lambdin this one is rooted in fact.

Alone among the major authors of war at sea during the Age of Sail, Lambdin talks about the necessity of any ship engaging in in-shore operations to have the services of a smaller ship, a tender, to enable it to project power in the shallower parts of the littoral zone. In 1805, the HMS Cambrian (40) under the command of Captain John Poo Beresford was cruising the Bahamas straits searching for French and Spanish privateers. Beresford was an energetic officer who played a small role in US naval history by capturing the USS Wasp and recapturing Wasp’s prize, HMS Frolic.

On July 3, after a chase of 22 hours the Cambrian ran the French privateer schooner Matilda into shoal waters presumably in the Little Bahama Banks where Lewrie captures Insolent in Reefs and Shoals. The Matilda was fitted out with 10 long nines. Beresford placed his first lieutenant John Pigot (or perhaps Pigott) in command of her and sent her off to explore the St. Mary’s River in search of a Spanish privateer and two prizes. We can infer from the capture of Matilda and the immediate dispatch of Matilda under Pigot that one of the prisoners probably gave valuable information.

Pigot arrived off Cumberland Island on July 6 and on July 7 proceeded up St. Mary’s River. He traveled 12 miles up the river, probably to the location of the Florida ghost town of Crandall. Crandall at the time had a sawmill and a landing for small craft. The movement was contested with Matilda taking musket and rifle fire from Spanish militia along the banks. Pigot found the privateer and her two prizes (Golden Grove and Ceres) lashed together in a line across the river presenting their broadsides. Pigot dueled with them until Matilda ran aground then ordered his men to the small boats to continue the action. Once he carried the Spanish privateer he used her guns to make the Spanish abandon the two prizes.  With the three ships in his possession he turned all their guns on the militia which now numbered about 100 men and had a fieldpiece at their disposal.

They were quickly routed by the fire from three ships but Pigot found himself stranded by adverse winds. It wasn’t until July 21 that Pigot with Matilda and three prizes descended the St. Mary’s River to the Atlantic. British casualties were two killed, 14 wounded. Pigot, himself, was shot three times — twice in the head and once in the leg — but refused to relinquish command. Spanish naval losses were 25 killed, five of whom were Americans, and 22 wounded. Pigot was promoted to commander.

At that point, I lose track of Commander Pigot. He may be the Robert Pigot who was commissioned in 1796. Maybe he pursued the rest of his career in anonymity, never again afforded the chances he was given in the summer of 1805, or maybe his luck was simply used up and he died at sea or in some nameless engagement. If anyone has information, let me know.

On the eve of Trafalgar we find Lewrie cooling his heels in the Bahamas. Will he make a surprise entrance much as he did at the Battle of Cape St. Vincent? Or will he become involved in the minor British campaigns against French Caribbean possessions? More intriguingly, will he somehow end up with the American Navy and his son, Desmond, during the First Barbary War? He does, you will recall, have significant ties with that young fleet.

Lambdin has foreshadowed that Trafalgar will be of some significance to Lewrie because we know that Hugh Lewrie will be there aboard whatever ship, be it Aeneas or Pegasus, that Lambdin finally decides upon. With his father at death’s door, cut off from his brother-in-law, Gouvernor, because of his chronic infidelities, loathed by his daughter and nearly so by his youngest son, will his only close relation be swept away by French roundshot leaving Lewrie very alone in his middle years?

Will he marry Lydia? He got damned close in this episode (though there was an echo of how he and Caroline decided to get married from The Gun Ketch).

Has Lewrie reformed? Though a commodore sailing on Admiralty orders, Lewrie managed to stay remarkably chaste while cruising the American southern Atlantic seaboard.

So I’m doing what I haven’t done for the past three years: looking forward to the next Alan Lewrie novel.

Note and warning. This synopsis will include spoilers. Spoilers don’t bother me because I usually read the last chapter of a book first. I understand YMMV.

I’m doing what has become my annual post on this blog on the latest Alan Lewrie naval adventure by Dewey Lambdin. This one is title Reefs and Shoals.

January 1805 finds Lewrie still in command of HMS Reliant frigate and heavily engaged with the lovely and available Lydia Stangbourne. Lydia, who we first met in the previous Lewrie adventure, is something of a bookend for Lewrie. She has his healthy libido and a reputation for dissolute behavior. Unfortunately, for her and for Lewrie, her reputation is undeserved and the result of a smear campaign conducted by her vengeful ex-husband after she sought the unthinkable: a divorce because of his beastly appetites.

She is a good match for Lewrie on many levels but now that he’s found a woman who is completely uninterested in matrimony he, being Lewrie, isn’t sure that is what he wants. The relationship is complicated by the fact that Lydia’s brother, Percy (naturally), has married Eudoxia Durshenko (Baltic Gambit,  A King’s Trade), an old Lewrie love interest — though involuntarily not an intimate one.

While awaiting orders, Lewrie renews acquaintance with an old friend, Captain Benjamin Rodgers (Jester’s Fortune and The Gun Ketch). Rodgers now has on board his 74-gun HMS Aeneas Midshipman Sewallis Lewrie (there is some confusion about the ship which I will touch upon later). Lewrie and his son have a meeting that is colored by the fact that Sewallis not only joined the navy against Lewrie’s wishes but he forged a letter from Lewrie to Rodgers to get the appointment. How well Sewallis is adopting to naval life is left ambiguous but Lewrie and son reach a rapprochement on the subject of how Sewallis entered the navy and his future there.

Over dinner, Sewallis, who still adores his mother and hates Lewrie’s many infidelities, seems to warm to Lydia. We’ll see how this works out for him.

In mid-January 1805, Lewrie receives Admiralty sailing orders to go to Bermuda and then the Bahamas to suppress French and Spanish privateers operating in the Caribbean and out of Spanish Florida. He is appointed commodore and is told to assemble a squadron of suitable craft from those he finds on station in either Bermuda or the Bahamas. As part of his duty he is to call upon the British consuls in Wilmington, Charleston, and Savannah and have them encourage the American government to take all possible steps to preserve its neutrality.

Ed. note: A complaint that I’ll make at this stage of the review and not revisit is that at points Lambdin emulates Dudley Pope’s penchant for having a travelogue substitute for narrative. During the ensuing voyage we learn much more about the magnetic deviations surrounding Bermuda and the nature of the waters there and the topography of the Florida Keys… neither of which have diddly squat to do with the story… than we have any right to know.

Bermuda is something of a backwater of the Empire. It is in no danger from the French and it is of no use to British commerce. Here Lewrie finds the first of what will become his squadron. The HMS Lizard sloop under the eccentric naval officer and naturalist Lieutenant Tristam Bury. From there Lewrie proceeds to the Bahamas.

The senior officer on station is none other than his old and unpleasant acquaintance Captain the Honorable Francis Forrester (The French Admiral, HMS Cockerel, A King’s Trade, King, Ship, and Sword). Though taken aback by Lewrie wearing the star of the Order of the Bath and medals for the Battles of St. Vincent and Camperdown, Forrester tries to pull rank on Lewrie and make him part of Forrester’s rather inactive command. Lewrie, as we might expect, is having none of it and forces Forrester to part with two of his smaller combatants: HMS Thorn brig (12) under Lieutenant Peter Darling and HMS Firefly sloop (8) under Lieutenant Oliver Lovett. Neither of whom are in good odor with Forrester. Forrester does so grudgingly and remains mesmerized by the danger of an imminent French and Spanish invasion which on one save him perceives.

While in port he goes ashore in Nassau and is hit by nostalgia for his time there with Caroline. The house they had occupied is now in ruins and occupied by soldiers and hookers making for something of a metaphor to his marriage to Caroline.

Their plan is to patrol the Bahamas Channel into the Florida Straits and from their sail up the Atlantic seaboard of Florida searching for privateers. After leaving the smaller vessels to establish a loose blockade of St. Augustine, Lewrie will check the significant Southern United States ports for evidence of privateers operating there in violation of US neutrality and enlist the British consuls in his operation.

True to form, Lewrie sets about developing aggressive spirit and independence in his subordinate commanders while at the same time intensively drilling them in what he expects of them in action.

Their first success comes in surprising a pair of small Spanish privateers in Biscayne Bay.

Ed note: Here we are visited with a perennial Lambdin annoyance: the rendering of broken accented English into written dialogue. But I won’t mention this further other than to say be forewarned.

The approach to Wilmington also swamps Lewrie in a wave of nostalgia, it was here that he met his wife, Caroline, during the evacuation of troops and Loyalists that followed Cornwallis’s defeat at Yorktown.The British consul there is none other than Lewrie’s good friend Christopher Cashman (Sea of Grey, Havoc’s Sword, A King’s Trade, Baltic Gambit, Troubled Waters). At an informal dinner with Cashman, Lewrie’s diplomatic skills are tested to the limits when he meets Patriot side of his Loyalist wife’s family.

Ed note: There is an anomaly in the story telling as Lewrie is asked if he has ever been to Charleston before and he says that he was there during the Revolution. He forgets his pursuit of Calico Jack Finney into Charleston harbor and sinking him in broad daylight which would undoubtedly still be waterfront legend.

Anchored in the harbor is the French merchantman Otarie, which is obviously a privateer. While engaging in a battle of wits with the French consul, Lewrie renews acquaintances with the Douglas McGilliveray, the nominal uncle of Lewrie’s  illegitimate son, Desmond McGilliveray. Lewrie finds Desmond is prospering in the new American navy. He also engages is a public and most undiplomatic dispute with the French privateer captain.

His visit is Savannah is mostly unsatisfactory. He finds the British consul to be completely disinterested in both his job and in Lewrie’s mission. By deduction, Lewrie concludes that any privateers operating out of American bases must be doing so from Georgia as he is confident the British consuls in Wilmington and Charleston would have ferreted out any such operation. The Georgia coast line has dozens of places for a small ships to shelter and it borders Spanish Florida. While anchored at Savannah, Lewrie also observes some suspicious barge traffic that he can’t adequately explain.

Lewrie rejoins his small squadron off St. Augustine and finds they have been energetically employed in burning and pillaging Spanish commerce. In the process they seize some fishing vessels which they arm and use to explore inlets too shallow for the squadron’s ships. While trolling off Castillo de San Marcos, Lewrie receives a dispatch from Forrester telling him that he expects Lewrie to join him in sailing to Antigua to defend British possessions against a Franco-Spanish fleet he believes is lurking nearby. Lewrie decides Forrester is jousting with his own imagination and decides to pursue his Admiralty orders. The dispatches also alert him to the fact that the French fleet at Toulon has slipped Nelson’s blockade and no one is sure of their destination.

Ed note: As an aside, Lambdin’s internal consistency is not all that it could be. Not only does he pass over Lewrie’s connection with Charleston but he first has HMS Aeneas under Benjamin Rodgers with Sewallis as a midshipman and later has the same ship under another old friend, Thomas Charlton (Jester’s Fortune , Troubled Waters, King’s Captain, King, Ship, and Sword, and Invasion Year), with his older son Hugh as a midshipman, though we were previously told Charlton commanded HMS Pegasus Invasion Year.

Their lucky break happens when they encounter and take the French privateer Insolent in the waters of Little Bahama Bank. Among the crew are two British subjects who, despite having papers declaring themselves naturalized American citizens, are rightfully afraid of being hanged. They reveal the inner workings of how the privateers operate.

Now cognizant of the location, methods, and timing of the privateer operation, Lewrie mounts an expedition into American waters to eliminate them.

There is a brisk battle in the St Mary’s River between the boats of Reliant and her consorts that results in two French privateers being captured and two prizes returned to their rightful owner as well as putting the operation responsible for supplying the privateers and disposing of prizes out of business.

Lewrie arrives in Nassau to find a letter from the Admiral commanding the Leeward Islands that he is now temporary Senior Naval Officer Commanding the Bahamas. Forrester, it seems, not only ran afoul of the admiral by abandoning his station in search for a phantom fleet but he ran his ship aground in English Harbour. He is now awaiting court-martial and almost certain loss of active employment assuming he can avoid being cashiered.

Anytime you challenge the Myth Busters you do so with trepidation but in this specific instance I felt the frequency splinters were mentioned in contemporaneous literature was dispositive and that the experiment set up by the Myth Busters was flawed on various levels.

Now, thanks to poster Karel I’m adding this video to the collection. I think we can now close the book on this discussion.

True to form, Lewrie causes some discomfiture on the part of his commodore, even though he is the senior captain, but in the end they are on friendly terms.

While replenishing supplies in Kingston, Jamaica, Lewrie receives unexpected news from England in the form of a letter informing him he has been knighted for his services to the Crown with the ceremony held in abeyance until his return. The squadron receives orders to return to England but they have to act as convoy escorts en route. The largish, 100+ ship, convoy loses some vessels to French privateers but not so many as to affect the career of the commodore.

Upon arrival in England, Lewrie is eventually seen at Court and knighted by a somewhat befuddled King George III. In the process he makes the acquaintance of Lady Lydia Stangbourne. She is a well connected young woman who has had her reputation besmirched in the course of a rather ugly and public divorce. In short, her reputation will not suffer for her association with Lewrie.

HMS Reliant is caught up in a secret mission being carried out by Admiralty revolving around using floating bombs, torpedoes, against the French invasion fleet in port. In the course of this experience Lewrie renews his acquaintance with the former commander of Lewrie’s HMS Thermopylae, Captain Joseph Speaks, and with Foreign Office operative James Peel.

Reliant tests the devices and eventually takes part on Admiral Lord Keith’s inconclusive raid on Boulogne.

When Lewrie returns from the raid he finds Peel has a distasteful new mission for him.

On the one hand, it doesn’t move the development of Alan Lewrie forward much, if at all. The major focus of the novel seems to be tying up lose ends, like Lewrie’s rocky marriage and the ever diminishing villain Guillaume Choundas, and setting the stage for the second half of Lewrie’s life which, if he avoids court-martial, should see him hoist his flag by the time Waterloo rolls around.

It is obvious that Charitė de Guilleri and Phoebe Aretino are reentering the picture. Lewrie seems to be building an expertise in New Orleans and environs that one suspects will result in him being present for the Battle of New Orleans. As the War of 1812 looms, he will undoubtedly encounter his son who, at last look, was an officer in the US Navy.

Now Lewrie (quick close your eyes if you don’t want to read a spoiler) has two sons in the Navy which will certainly cause him some anxious moments.

His roguish father has started putting his affairs in order which hints at his upcoming demise. Unfortunately, looks like Sir Hugo is destined to die peacefully in his own bed rather than violently in someone else’s.

His half-brother, Gerald, has been absent since Lewrie had him press-ganged into the navy. His half-sister, Belinda, hasn’t made an appearance since the first novel, The King’s Coat. Even though she is pushing 40 she is still a highly desired hooker. It’s hard to believe she won’t reappear at some point.

On the whole, this is not the best of the series. The naval action seems to be an afterthought. A respected, upright Lewrie isn’t quite as much fun as the devious, edgy Lewrie we’ve known in the past. And Lambdin makes some technical errors, like complaining about the “purser’s pound”, i.e. rations being issued at 14 rather than 16 ounces to the pound, a practice which ceased with the Spithead Mutiny. He also describes the cheese in terms that could only be Suffolk cheese which was dropped by the Victualling Board in 1758.

But we’re waiting for the next in the series, The Invasion Year.

We left Lewrie in Baltic Gambit in the aftermath of the Battle of Copenhagen as the captain of HMS Thermopylae. He survives the battle with his professional reputation enhanced but staring the wreckage of his marriage and close friendships in the face.

King, Ship, and Sword picks up with Thermopylae on close blockade of the Dutch ports as peace becomes more and more inevitable. Lewrie, as usual, is in a state of disfavor with the powers at Whitehall and his ship is one of the last to be called home and paid off when the Peace of Amiens is signed.

Lewrie is rudderless. For the first time in years he is on half-pay and he is in such foul odor with the First Lord of Admiralty that he doubts he will ever get back to sea, even if the war does resume. He faces the unpleasant prospect of returning to his rented property at Anglesgreen and resuming life with his very estranged wife, Caroline, with her relatives in close proximity.

Perhaps because he temptations are so few and far between in Anglesgreen, Lewrie is able to reach something of an armed truce with Caroline. His sons are ecstatic to have their hero-father home but his young daughter has imbibed deeply from Caroline’s well of bitterness and wants nothing to do with him.

As Caroline and Alan achieve something of a rapprochement they decide that a second honeymoon would be just the thing to turn over a new page in their relationship. They choose Paris as a destination.

Lewrie has a dual personal/professional purpose for going to Paris (nice alliteration, eh?). During the late war he has collected the swords of five French captains who did not survive their encounter with his various ships. Had they done so he would, as a matter of course, returned their weapons after surrender. He wants to take these to the French equivalent of the Admiralty and have them returned to the next-of-kin. And then there is the matter of his own sword given up to a young Corsican officer on a beach near Toulon in 1793. He wants to ask that Corsican, how now styles himself Emperor of France, to return it to him.

As the Lewrie’s depart a restaurant on their first night in Paris they pass a disfigured cripple who is taken aback by seeing Lewrie. He is none other than Lewrie’s old nemesis, Guillaume Choundas (King’s Privateer, King’s Commander, Havoc’s Sword), now a civilian and eking out a very bleak existence on a small pension.

He sets Caroline out on her own, or rather accompanied by an unsavory guide, to spend her way out of her residual anger at Lewrie’s philanderings while he visits the British consulate to pursue his plan.

Caroline finds her way to the most exclusive parfumerie in Paris. Unfortunately, it’s proprietor in none other than Lewrie’s paramour from Toulon, Phoebe Aretino. (HMS Cockerel; A King’s Commander) Caroline instantly recognizes her name thanks to the poison pen letters she received from another of Lewrie’s love random conquests.

Caroline lets her opinion of Aretino’s character be known rather loudly. As fate would have it another of Lewrie’s lovers, Charitė de Guilleri.

Charitė de Guilleri is still nursing her rage over being used in all manner of ways by Lewrie in New Orleans. She has become a leading voice advocating France recovering Louisiana from Spain and takes her discovery of his presence directly to the head of the National Police.

Her disclosure of his affiliation with the British Foreign Office hits at the same time the office is evaluating the British Consulates’s request to have Lewrie meet Bonaparte to exchange swords as a sign of improved Anglo-French relations.

In the meantime, the Lewrie’s have struck up a relationship with an eccentric British couple, Sir Pulteney and Lady Imogene Plumb.

The Lewries are presented to Napoleon and swords exchanged but not without incident. The upshot is that the head of the National Police orders the Lewries to disappear. Choundas and Charitė de Guilleri are sent along on the mission because they both can recognize Lewrie.

Charitė de Guilleri is upset that Caroline is going to be snuffed as well as Lewrie and that she has inadvertently labeled Aretino as a possible enemy of the regime.

As it turns out the Plumbs were active in smuggling Royalists to England during the Terror and are visiting France during the peace to relive those heady days vicariously. Sir Pulteney still has highly placed contacts and hears that Lewrie has been targeted for assassination. He brings his old network back into action.

Lewrie and Caroline return to England. Choundas meets his end at Lewrie’s hands. Charitė de Guilleri and Phoebe Aretino are ?? we don’t know.

Lewrie returns to England as the nation begins mobilizing for war as the Peace of Amiens unravels. He is given command of a large 38-gun frigate, HMS Reliant and hastily sent to sea as part of a four-ship squadron tasked to prevent French troops from arriving in New Orleans to take possession of Louisiana for France.

Lewrie’s seniority makes him second in command and much to his surprise his advice his heeded by his commodore. A trans-Atlantic chase ensues which ends with the British squadron taking the French squadron at the mouth of the Mississippi.

With Richard Parker’s surrender and imprisonment, the inevitable retribution began. The British Navy had a tradition of leniency towards certain kinds of mutiny but by the same token ruthlessly suppressed mutinies which struck at the authority of the captain. The Nore mutiny clearly fell into the latter category and the mutineers, by their blockade of the Thames, had forfeited any claim to being considered loyal subjects, a theme, we will recall which was relentlessly repeated by Valentine Joyce and the Spithead mutineers.

The sailors involved in the mutiny were under no illusions about what was coming.

As early as June 11 a large boat filled with mutineers sailed from The Nore and was chased by a revenue cutter but escaped. From what we know of the Revenue Service of the era the escape may or may not have been a function of the skill of the crews and sailing properties of the ships.

On the 15th, three boatloads of mutineers from Inflexible, effectively the Ground Zero of the no-surrender faction of the mutiny, seized a small private ship named Good Intent and sailed to Calais. Some men from Montague fled to Holland. Undoubtedly many more of the more visible mutineers were feeling the scratch of hemp rope on their necks and looking for any way out.

Most were not successful. The president of the delegates aboard Standard shot himself when Standard defected from the mutiny on June 13. Two mutineers who had seized a fishing smack were arrested by a revenue cutter about the time of the flight of the Inflexibles to Calais. On June 16 another boat containing thirteen mutineers was captured by a revenue cutter as it left the Thames.

Parker’s court martial convened on board Neptune on June 22, a Thursday, he was convicted on June 26 and on the morning of Friday, June 30 he was hanged from the foreyard of HMS Standard.

Parker’s final words were, “I wish only to declare that I acknowledge the justice sentence under which I suffer, and I hope than my death may be deemed sufficient atonement, and save the lives of others.”

His hope was in vain.

Over the coming weeks one court martial after another was convened. Over four hundred sailors were tried. Fifty-nine were sentenced to death, though in the end only twenty-nine were executed. Nine were flogged through the fleet and we don’t know how many of these died. Twenty-nine more were sentenced to terms of imprisonment which undoubtedly resulted in some of them dying. The tally of actions is below:

Sandwich, 25 court martialed, 15 condemned, 6 hanged, 2 flogged, 9 imprisoned.
Montague, 16 court martialed, 9 condemned, 4 hanged, 6 imprisoned, 4 pardoned.
Director, 12 court martialed, 12 pardoned.
Inflexible, 41 court martialed, 41 pardoned.
Monmouth, 51 court martialed, 11 condemned, 6 hanged, 4 flogged, 4 imprisoned, 29 pardoned.
Belliqueux, 3 court martialed, 2 pardoned.
Standard, 28 court martialed, 10 condemned, 3 hanged, 3 flogged, 7 imprisoned, 15 pardoned.
Lion, 46 court martialed, 46 pardoned.
Nassau, 20 court martialed, 19 pardoned.
Repulse, 6 court martialed, 4 pardoned.
Grampus, 6 court martialed, 5 condemned, 3 hanged, 1 imprisoned.
Prosperine, 7 court martialed, 7 pardoned.
Brilliant, 14 court martialed, 13 pardoned.
Iris, 2 to be court martialed but both deserted before trial.
Champion, 22 court martialed, 22 pardoned.
Comet, general pardon for crew.
Tysiphone, 11 court martialed, 11 pardoned.
Pylades, 8 court martialed, 8 pardoned.
Swan, 11 court martialed, 11 pardoned.
Lancaster, general pardon for crew.
Inspector, 9 court martialed, 5 pardoned.
Vestal, 7 court martialed, 7 pardoned.
Isis, 42 court martialed, 42 pardoned.
Leopard, 41 court martialed, 9 condemned, 7 hanged, 2 imprisoned, 32 pardoned.
Agamemnon, 13 court martialed, 13 pardoned.
Ranger, 13 court martialed, 12 pardoned.

All was not well in the Fleet after this. The wounds were too deep and the mutual trust between the men who sailed the ships and the officers who commanded them was severely damaged. Within the ships there were additional divisions created between those who had been active in the mutiny and those who had tried to thwart it. Sailors who had not been convicted by courts martial were in daily contact with shipmates who had testified against them.

Ships which were thought to remain unreliable were packed off to the Mediterranean Fleet then under St. Vincent. St. Vincent was not a man to be trifled with and he dealt swiftly with rumors of mutiny in his fleet, so much so that St. Vincent complained, “What do they mean by invariably sending the mutinous ships to me? Do they think that I will be hangman to the fleet?”

Mutiny continued to strike the British Navy throughout the Napoleonic wars but never again did it experience anything resembling that tumultuous spring of 1797.

Visit all our posts on the Spithead Mutiny and the mutiny at The Nore.

While their morale may have improved their situation had not. They were cut off from shore, denied supplies, and the government refused to enter into further negotiations with them. Some unnamed genius came up with the idea that two could play at that game and conceived the idea of a blockade of the Thames and, therefore, of London. Accordingly, on the evening of May 31, Richard Parker presented himself at the home of the port commissioner at Sheerness and announced that London was under blockade.

At first, it seemed like this was mere bluster but on June 2 HMS Swan, sloop, began intercepting inbound merchantmen and detaining them. The traffic soon outpaced the capabilities of a single ship and HMS Brilliant (28), HMS Standard (64), and HMS Inspector (16) were called upon to lend a helping hand.

Parker and the mutineers desperately needed a bring the mutiny to an end and this move seems calculated to do just that.

At the same time the government was moving in something of a blind panic of its own. At Pitt’s behest, Parliament passed an act on June 1 which established death as the penalty for anyone who incite soldiers or sailors to mutiny or disobedience. It was followed in short order by another bill which forbade trade with the mutineers. Most importantly, though, the blockade changed the entire climate of opinion in England.

The Spithead mutineers had been assiduous in asserting their readiness to return to duty if the French sailed and had kept frigates and smaller ships out of the mutiny and at their duty protecting convoys. These actions, coupled with the justness of their demands, won the sympathy of the public and prevented the government from taking punitive actions. The blockade of London broke that trust and now the public was not sure The Nore mutineers remained loyal to the nation. This, in turn, gave the government much more leeway in dealing with them and much less incentive to come to a negotiated settlement.

Rumors began to swirl of ominous meetings between delegates and unnamed, though presumably nefarious, persons. Parker was required to repeatedly declare that the mutineers were not in league with French revolutionaries.
On June 6th, Captain William Carnegie, 7th Earl of Northesk, of HMS Monmouth received an order to go on board HMS Sandwich and receive orders from the delegates. Northesk was a highly regarded captain, an accomplished mariner as well as an advocate for his sailors.

To the Rt. Hon. The Earl of Northesk

My Lord,

I am commanded by the Delegates of the Fleet to inform your Lordship that you are requested to repair on board the Sandwich to receive your instructions. A barge will attend your Lordship, and every mark of respect paid your Lordship could wish for.

Northesk, anxious to bring the mutiny to a close, did as requested. After an examination of his record as captain, the delegates presented him with a petition they wished to lay before the King. The objected strongly to the being characterized as rebels and reiterated their loyalty to the Crown. At the same time the petition presented an ultimatum:

[…]Outlaws are contradicted, till we have all our Grievances redress’d and till we have the same supply from and communications as usual with the shore, we shall consider ourselves masters of Nore Shipping. We have already determined how to act, and should be extremely sorry we should be forced to repose in another country, which must evidently be the case if we are denounced as Outlaws in our own.

[…]

And with respect to our own Grievances, we shall allow 54 hours from 8 o’clock on Wednesday June the 7th 1797 to know Your Majesty’s final Answer. […]

Rational men would have immediately seen that pledging loyalty while simultaneously issuing an ultimatum and threatening to take the fleet in to French or Dutch ports would hardly receive a dispassionate hearing within the government but rational men were no longer in charge. The quarantine of the mutinous fleet began to have dire consequences. By the first week of June, some of the ships were running short of potable water and sent messages to other vessels requesting resupply. On June 5th, a tender carrying about 60 sick and injured sailors from the fleet was turned back from the hospital ship at Sheerness and told to take the men back to their ships. Adding insult to injury their pockets were stuffed with pamphlets encouraging the mutineers to capitulate.

Lord Northesk dutifully bore the petition to London and argued their case before the King but to no avail. Captain Knight of HMS Montague was delegated by the Crown to return the complete and utter refusal to the fleet. Lord Northesk resigned from the Navy.

While the government has been rather open about quarantining the mutineers from contact with the shore, it remained very worried that the mutineers would ultimately attempt to take the fleet into enemy ports rather than surrender. To that end Trinity House was ordered to begin removing the buoys and other navigation aids marking the safe channels at the Nore. On June 8 Trinity House announced:

His Majesty having thought fit, by his order in council, to direct the buoys in the several channels to be removed, and the beacons to be cut down:
Notice is hereby given that the several buoys in the North, Nab, and Queen’s Channels are removed, and the beacons cut down accordingly: and further notice will be given as soon as it is judged proper to replace the same.

Working surreptitiously during the day as well as at night all buoys and lights had been removed or destroyed by June 9. The sole remaining navigational aid was the Nore lightship and she had survived only because she was anchored under the guns of Sandwich. The mutineers were outraged and threatened to hang the first senior member, termed an “Elder Brother,” of Trinity House to fall into their grasp.

Such an opportunity shortly came their way, for shortly after the announcement by Trinity House an Elder Brother, a Captain Calvert, was taken as his yacht was returning from a summer pleasure trip. As proved in most cases, the bark of the mutineers was much worse than their bite. He was brought aboard Sandwich but his manner impressed the mutineers and they released him on the condition that he tell them what public opinion was. Calvert, honestly, told them that the country was against them.

As Calvert was leaving he was approached by a group of masters who had been delegated to help sail the ships out of the Nore. They asked Calvert what they should do. He told them that if they piloted the ships they would be hanged. This was underscored later in the day when Captain Knight of Montague brought aboard not only the King’s refusal of their petition but the proclamation outlawing the mutineers.

The mutiny began to collapse. As Parker went from ship to ship to make his case for continuing the mutiny he was met with jeers and catcalls. Aboard HMS Ardent he was accused of using the mutiny to enrich himself. All hope of a negotiated agreement ended, Parker resolved to take the fleet into Texel. On the morning of Friday, June 9, Parker ordered the signal made for the fleet to sail. None of the other ships made any movement to follow the order.

Officers in the fleet were keenly alert to the change of tenor. On the afternoon of June 9 the officers and loyal petty officers and marines on HMS Leopard (50) took her back from the mutineers. A meeting of delegates had taken the leadership of the mutineers from the ship. Lieutenant Joseph Robb organized the loyal crew in the wardroom area of the main deck to load several guns and aim them down the length of the deck. Then on signal he had the canvas and deal wall setting off the wardroom struck and called upon the mutineers to surrender. Meanwhile, another officer led a small group to the lower gun deck where they poured vinegar into the vents of all the guns then cut the anchor cables while a third party made sail.

Almost immediately a similar scene took place aboard HMS Repulse (64). Leopard made good her escape but Repulse came under fire by the mutinous fleet and then, as the tide was out, ran aground. For nearly an hour and a half Repulse withstood the fire of the fleet before the tide came in an she floated free. For all the cannonade, Repulse suffered only one casualty, a lieutenant whose leg was shot away.

Late that night HMS Ardent slipped away exchanging a few shots with Monmouth.

Parker’s desperation became more apparent. On June 10th he again called upon Montague’s Captain Knight to take a message to the King. Now he only demanded a pardon for the mutineers and that the most disagreeable officers be dismissed from their ships. As Knight was departing Montague, his crew presented him with a petition which undercut Parker’s position.

They didn’t even demand a pardon or the removal of offensive officers. They only asked that the King give consideration to granting those requests. The Thames was immediately reopened to commercial traffic.

Of course, now that the government had the mutineers on the ropes it had very little incentive to negotiate and no response was forthcoming. No one knows what transpired in the fleet during the next two days. To observers it seemed like ships were torn in loyalties, first hoisting the Union Jack and then the red flag of mutiny. One after another the ships gave up.

On the 13th, Parker handed the keys of the magazine of HMS Sandwich to Third Lieutenant Nicholas Flatt and the mutiny was effectively ended. Only Inflexible, Montague, and Belliqueux remained outside the control of the government and even they flew the Union Jack. On June 15, they folded and the mutiny was over.

The government was not inclined towards generosity and the stage was set for retribution.

Visit all our posts on the Spithead Mutiny and the mutiny at The Nore.