In spring 1797 the Spithead and Nore mutinies came as a terrible shock to a British public who had long since taken the loyalty and effectiveness of their navy for granted. By the end of 1797, the storm had been weathered, most of the wounds had been healed, and many found comfort in forgetting. Yet, for the Admiralty, the mutinies could not truly be forgotten because the previous complacency, once shattered, could never entirely be repaired. The relationship between the sailors, their officers, and the nation had not been destroyed, but it had been changed. The seamen had asserted their value and strength, and they had negotiated with the state in a manner far beyond the capabilities of most popular protests. As a result, the fleet mutinies reveal a great deal about the fabric of British society, the nature and limitations of its institutions, and the attitudes and ideals that held them together. The Spithead and Nore mutinies pushed late-eighteenth-century Britain as close as it came to the brink and, in the process, revealed much that was fundamental about its inner-workings.