Richard Parker’s unfortunate wife had not left Scotland, when the news reached 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 not known. 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 into 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 condition of unspeakable wretchedness, the whole of that night, and at four o’clock in the morning went to the riverside 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 wrung by hearing every person she met talking on the subject of her distress, and now the first waterman to whom she spoke refused to take her as a single passenger. “The brave Admiral Parker is to die to-day,” he said, “and I can get any sum I choose to ask for carrying over a party.” Finally, the wretched wife was glad to go on board a Sheerness market boat, but no boat was allowed to run up alongside of the _Sandwich_. In her desperation she called on Parker by name, and prevailed on the boat people, moved by the sight of her distress, to attempt to approach, but they were stopped by a sentinel who threatened to fire at them, unless they withdrew. O Parker was the truest husband, Best of friends, whom I love dear; Yet when he was a-called to suffer, To him I might not then draw near. Again I ask’d, again I pleaded, Three times entreating,--all in vain; They even that request refused me, And ordered me ashore again. As the hour drew nigh, she saw her husband appear on deck walking between two clergymen. She called to him, and he heard her voice, for he exclaimed, “There is my dear wife from Scotland.” Then, happily, she fainted, 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 ballad says:--