A case of life and death in the South Atlantic redefined the boundaries of necessity and continues to intrigue lawyers and writers alike.
On May 19, 1884, a nineteen-ton private yacht Mignonette set sail from Southampton, England, bound for Sydney, Australia. Aboard were four men: Captain Thomas Dudley, mate Edward Stephens, seaman Edmond Brooks, and cabin-boy Richard Parker. Some 1,600 miles off the coast of Africa in the South Atlantic, the yacht was overwhelmed by violent seas and sank within minutes. The crew managed to escape to a small, thirteen-foot lifeboat, armed only with two one-pound cans of turnips to sustain them. What unfolded subsequently became then a cause célèbre, and a defining legal case still taught to students of the English Common Law to this very day.
The four men in the lifeboat rigged a makeshift sail and set off in the direction of Rio de Janeiro. On the third day they opened the cans of turnips. On the fourth day they caught a small turtle. On the sixteenth day, the cabin boy Richard Parker, only seventeen years of age, became very ill from drinking seawater. The idea was then broached that the life of one of the four should be sacrificed to save the lives of the others. Brooks dissented, not wanting to kill anyone. On the nineteenth day Dudley and Stephens agreed to kill Parker if there was no rescue by morning. And so, early the next day, Dudley cut Parker’s throat with a penknife. The three remaining men fed upon his body for four days, when they were rescued by the German barque Montezuma on July 29.
Dudley, Stephens, and Brooks were not shy about saying what had happened. When the Montezuma returned them to Falmouth, England, on September 6, 1884, they repeated their story to customs officials, only to find themselves charged with murder.
However, public opinion was with the three men, including the brother of Richard Parker, also a sailor, who knew as well as any that the sea was a very harsh mistress. There were also legal issues to consider, notably that then under the common law the ‘privilege against self-incrimination’ was absolute. Moreover, some legal commentators considered homicide to be always justifiable if necessary to preserve oneself.
The authorities felt they had no option but to prosecute, not least to set a precedent that limited the defence of necessity, committing both Dudley and Stephens to trial, and dropping the charges against Brooks so his account of what happened in the lifeboat could be used against the others. And yet it was always understood by both the judiciary and the public that any precedent set would not be used against Dudley and Stephens, that they would be treated leniently.
The trial began on November 3, 1884 before judge Baron Huddleston, who was already intent on reaching a guilty verdict, and who more than any saw the need for a precedent to be set on the law of necessity once and for all. The jury was made to understand that they had a choice: find Dudley and Stephens guilty, or opt for a special verdict (as Baron Huddleston wished) where a panel of judges would then decide on the facts of the case and the guilt or innocence of Dudley and Stephens, and, most importantly, set the legal precedent. It should be noted that Baron Huddleston deliberately referred during the trial to the ‘clemency of the Crown’, thereby assuring Dudley and Stephens that they would be reprieved. The jury opted for the special verdict.
In December 1884, the Queen’s Bench Division, under Lord Chief Justice Coleridge, ruled that the defence of necessity could not justify murder, a decision that has endured in legal history. Dudley and Stephens were sentenced to death, but with a recommendation for mercy. While Queen Victoria was expected to pardon them, Home Secretary William Harcourt opted for a six-month prison sentence instead. The men were released on May 20, 1885.
Beyond the legal textbooks, Regina v Dudley and Stephens continues to echo in literary circles. Joseph Conrad’s Lord Jim, though primarily inspired by the real-life ‘non-sinking’ of the pilgrim ship Jeddah, drew heavily on the case’s themes of necessity and survival. Yann Martel, in his 2001 novel Life of Pi, wove in a literary nod by naming the potentially man-eating tiger Richard Parker—an unmistakable allusion to the ill-fated cabin boy. More recently, mystery novelist Elizabeth C. Bunce drew on the Mignonette tragedy in her 2022 children’s book In Myrtle Peril. Edgar Allan Poe, too, had explored the grim dynamics of sacrifice and survival in his only novel, The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket, where a sailor named Richard Parker offers himself up to be consumed by his fellow crew members. Interestingly, Poe’s tale, published in 1838, predates the real Richard Parker’s tragic fate by nearly half a century.
(The author is a novelist, retired investigator with an abiding passion for Chinese history)
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