It was resumed on May 7th. As Parliament had delayed in passing the appropriations for the increase of pay and pensions, the crews rose _en masse_ and disarmed all their officers, although still abstaining from actual violence. Lord Howe, always a popular officer with the men, and their especial idol after his great victory of June 1st, 1794, was sent down by the Cabinet with full power to ratify all the concessions which had been made, and to do his best to convince the men that the Government had no desire of evading them. He completely mollified the men, and even succeeded in exacting an expression of regret and contrition for their outbreak. He assured them that their every grievance should be considered, and a free pardon, as before, given to all concerned. The men again returned to duty. The fleet at Plymouth, which had followed that of Portsmouth into the mutiny, did the same; and thus, in a month from the first outbreak, as far as these two great fleets were concerned, all disaffection, dissatisfaction, and discontent had passed away, through the tact and judicious behaviour of Lord Howe. There can be no doubt that the tyranny of many of the officers had a vast deal to do with the outbreak. In the list of officers whom the men considered obnoxious, and that Lord Howe agreed should be removed, there were over one hundred in one fleet of sixteen ships. Strange to say, the very same week in which the men of the Portsmouth fleet returned to their duty, acknowledging all their grievances to be removed, the fleet at the Nore arose in a violent state of mutiny, displaying very different attributes to those shown by the former. Forty thousand men, who had fought many a battle for king and country, and in steadfast reliance upon whose bravery the people rested every night in tranquillity, confident in their patriotism and loyalty, became irritated by ungrateful neglect on the one part, and by seditious advisers on the other, and turned the guns which they had so often fired in defence of the English flag against their own countrymen and their own homes. Richard Parker, the chief ringleader at the Nore, was a thoroughly bad man in every respect, and one utterly unworthy the title of a British sailor, of which, indeed, he had been more than once formally deprived. He was the son of an Exeter tradesman in a fair way of business, had received a good education, and was possessed of decided abilities. He was a remarkably bold and resolute man, or he would never have acquired the hold he had for a time over so many brave sailors. He was unmistakably “The leader of the band he had undone, Who, born for better things, had madly set His life upon a _cast_,” and until overtaken by justice, he ruled with absolute sway.