ade them prisoners or
allowed a few, among whom were medical officers, to go on shore.

The men demanded increase in pay and other allowances; and it must be
confessed that, upon the whole, they had their grievances. It was not
before several anxious weeks had gone by that the differences were
settled.

It was the good old admiral Lord Howe who himself brought the king's
free pardon to the men, and the Act of Parliament granting them their
just demands. He was a very great favourite, and looked upon as quite a
father to the fleet.

Then on the 17th of May the ships put to sea.

[Illustration: "_Up and down the streets, carrying red flags, his
fellows marched._" Page 133.]

We must remember that seamen in the royal navy in those old days had a
good deal to complain of. The pay was inadequate, the food was often
unfit for human consumption, leave was seldom given in port, and
discipline was often maintained by the cat-o'-nine-tails, the services
of which might in nine cases out of ten have been dispensed with.

Just a word or two about the mutiny at the Nore, and I have done, for
ever I trust, with so shocking a subject. The men here were far more
insolent and overbearing in their demands. The president of the
mutineers--fancy calling a mutineer a president!--was, worse luck, a
Scotsman from Perth, of the name of Parker. He indeed ruled it for a
time with a high hand, and was virtually admiral of the fleet at
Sheerness, up and down the streets of which, carrying red flags, his
fellows marched, in order to secure the sympathy of civilians.

At this time, it will be remembered, Admiral Duncan was blockading the
Texel, hemming in the Dutch fleet so that they might not join the
French. Was it not a terrible thing that with the exception of two
ships--the _Venerable_ (the flagship) and the _Adamant_--his fleet
should desert him, sail across the water and join the scoundrel Parker
at the Nore?

Poor Scotch Duncan! When even the men of the flagship showed signs of
revolting, he drew them around him, and in a voice which seemed almost
choked with rising tears addressed them in words that were at once
simple and touching. His concluding sentences were somewhat as
follows:--

"Often and often, men, it has been my pride with you to look into the
Texel on a foe which dreaded to come out to meet us. But my pride is
humbled now indeed; and no words of mine can express to you the anguish