'Fox! The wily beggar — you know he
waited on the King?'
'Aye, he did, and His
Knobbs saw him, would you credit it? Didn't say a word to him, I'm told.'
The carriage clattered
off the bridge at New Palace Yard, passing the twin flambeaux at its entrance
crackling in the gathering dusk. It swung right into Parliament Street with a
loud creaking of leather springs, then slowed and came to a stop.
Dundas thumped on the
roof with his stick. 'Dammit, man, we have to be in—'
A caped coachman leaned
down. 'The mobility, sir,' he said heavily. Dundas leaned out of the window. A
straggling, noisy crowd was astride the road: some of them bore crude banners,
others were supporting an effigy.
'Drive
on!' Dundas snapped, and withdrew inside.
He hefted his stick —
it was capped with a heavy silver embossing. Windham loosened his sword, a
paltry spadroon. Neither man spoke as the coachman urged the carriage forward
with cracking whip.
'No
war! Down with Pitt!' came angry shouts.
Dundas leaned out of
the window again. 'Don't stop!' he roared. The driver plied his whip, but the
horses were now shying at the ugly crowd ahead, flicking their heads to the
side, eyes bulging white.
The mob fell back
sullenly before the charging carriage, with its scarlet and green
coat-of-arms, but as it plunged among them, some beat at the sides, screaming.
A stone shattered a window to the front, then another. More blows drummed on
the side of the carriage as it thundered through the mob.
The horses whinnied in
terror, but the impetus now was to get away, and in a terrified clatter of
hoofs the wildly swaying carriage was through to the safety of the White Hall
precinct with its redcoat guard.
'Thank you, gentlemen, for your prompt
attendance — you will find your celerity is amply justified by events.' Pitt
rubbed his eyes in weariness, staring at the new Corinthian columns as though
they were on the point of dissolving.
They filed in:
Grenville, the stern and principled Foreign Minister; the Duke of Portland,
Home Secretary; the Secretary of State for War and the War Minister, still
pale from their experience in the carriage. The big oval table was bare except
for a small sheaf of papers and a glass of port before the Prime Minister.
'Do be seated. A muzzier, Henry? I heard
you were accosted by the mob.'
'If
you please, Prime Minister.'
'Good. Now, this is the
essence.' Pitt's pale, noble face was slashed with lines of strain.
Windham wondered how
any single person could take the whole weight of this utterly new kind of war,
let alone keep aloof from the fierce political brawling in the Commons every
day.
'The situation abroad
is critical.' Taking up his port Pitt gestured to Grenville to continue.
'Indeed. Since Rivoli
the Austrians have lost heart. I now find they are dickering secretly with
General Buonaparte for peace, their price Venice - which, of course, is now in
his gift. We've been thrown out of the Mediterranean, not a ship further in
than Gib, and we find that the French by autumn will be in occupation of the
left bank of the Rhine. This is something that last happened a thousand years
ago.' Grenville stopped, and looked grimly about the table. 'In short, we've
not a single friend left. The coalition is finished.'
Pitt put down his glass
with extreme care. 'The whole business of war has put an intolerable stress on
our resources. The National Debt frightens me, and I won't hide it from you, gentlemen,
that unless a miracle occurs or we can think of a radical new way of taxing, we
shall be bankrupted.'
The Home Secretary
muttered indistinctly; the others stared grimly.
'You will ask what more can happen —
then I shall tell you. If our standing abroad is so sadly diminished, our
domestic is worse. Those bad harvests leave us with precious litde to show for
four years of war, we are balanced on a knife edge of economics, but our
precious trade, the life-blood of our islands, this is to be guarded with all
we have. And we nearly lost it all to those mutinous wretches at Spithead.
Fortunately they've been appeased, and Dundas tells me the Channel fleet is now
back at sea again. A damn near thing, gentlemen, for a run on 'Change would
ruin us in every chancellory in Europe.'
His eyes glazed, and he
made a visible effort to recruit his strength. 'Now, it seems, we have a new
mutiny, this time at the Nore. I was assured — the Admiralty were confident —
this would blow over just as soon as we'd acceded in the Spithead case. But
now, far from returning to duty, they're making new demands and saying our
general pardon doesn't cover them. The admiral in those parts — that useless
ninny — says that guns have been fired at a king's ship, and the Sheerness fort
has been bombarded.
'My friends, this is a
far more serious matter altogether. Grenville has unimpeachable intelligence
that the Dutch are preparing a major fleet challenge from the Texel at the
goading of the French. If they succeed by our ships useless at their moorings,
then they can within hours secure the Channel for a massed landing. If they get
wind of this mutiny it will be all up with us, I fear.'
He finished his port in
one and set down his glass. 'I — we cannot withstand a second mutiny and
consequent concessions. This administration would certainly fall. Added to
which, each hour the mutineers are free to strut about is encouragement to
every crackpot radical in the land. As we talk, Sheerness is en fete for their
mutinous heroes, and the garrison is now considered unreliable. What we are
faced with must be accounted the worst crisis I have ever encountered.
'So, I want
suggestions, plans, strategies, anything, but this rising must be stopped -
now! Charmed or crushed, it has to be over speedily and the ringleaders
punished, visibly. I trust I'll have your strongest recommendation for action.
'Oh, and quite incidentally,
I have the Lord Chancellor's ruling on the applicability of the King's Pardon
to the Nore. It is that the mutineers were right in the essentials, their
offences are indeed not within the purview of the Spithead pardon.'
'Th' poxy, slivey, cuntbitten
shicers!' Hulme would not be consoled.
'An' so say we all,' Kydd agreed,
with feeling. 'Dick,
I owns y' was right. I'd never have
thought 'em shabs enough f'r that grass-combin' move. If we'd accepted th'
pardon we could all be— Well, we didn't.' It was a low blow, a cold-blooded act
of policy. 'We stands fast,' Kydd said sturdily.
'Yes, Tom, the only thing we can
do.' Parker seemed to find strength in Kydd's words, and raised his voice: 'Do
you all listen! We know where we stand now. There's no going back, lads. We
either win or die.
'The ancient Romans
carried a bundle of sticks to show to all that one stick might be taken and
easily broken, yet all taken together you may not break them. And when Benjamin
Franklin put pen to the Declaration of Independence, he swore that "Now,
indeed, we must all hang together, or, most assuredly, we shall all hang
separately."
'Now, there are
some — we may hazard who - are, as one might say, lacking in zeal. There are
some who would let others risk all to win for them while they keep in with the
authority. Still more are thinking to desert their shipmates. These are a
danger and peril to all of us. We have to take steps to prevent them loosening
our unity — by any means. If necessary, by compulsion!
'Joe, I want you and
your mate to spend your hours visiting each ship. See yard-ropes are rove and
the Bloody Flag flies high and free! All hands to wear a red ribbon in his hat
in token of our struggle.
'Cap'n Davis, every
morning at sunrise, the men of Sandwich are to clear lower deck and give three
rousing cheers. And you entertain on board every Thames pilot you can find -
they shall not remain at large and free to navigate any foolish expedition the
government thinks to send against us.
'There is a
special service awaiting Brother Hulme. Word has been passed to us that in the
Thames beyond Tilbury, at Long Reach, lies Lancaster sixty-four and others. We
mean to set them free to drop down-river to join our company. You may use any
measures to secure the ships against those who would wish to maintain their
tyranny.
'And to all you brave
hearts, it is now time to take courage. Let none doubt that we are resolved —
at the cannon's mouth, if need be — to stay true to our cause.'
There was a breathless
silence in the Great Cabin, then Blake scrambled to his feet. 'An' it's three
times three fer our Pres-i-dent Parker! Let's hear it, y' shabs!' The cheers
echoed deafeningly while Parker sat, red with pleasure, eyes sparkling.
'An' then we toasted like good 'uns
damnation to their lordships 'n' Pitt 'n' his scurvy crew!' Kydd laughed.
Kitty did not join in.
'Thomas — please! Ye have to know, people are afraid. They know y’ don' have
the pardon an' they're worried f'r what ye'll do now. An' some of y' sailors
are takin' boats 'n' landin' in Whitstable 'n' Faversham t' kick up a bobbery.
Honest folks now takin' agin you, m' love.'
Kydd's heart softened
at the genuine worry in Kitty's face. 'M' dear Kitty,' he said sofdy, holding
her tight, 'it'll all be over soon - we're united, see, and they has t' treat
wi' us. An' the first thing we asks afore we talks is a right full pardon fr'm
the King.'
She dropped her eyes and, in a
muffled voice, said, 'I know you, Thomas. You'll be true t' the end, th' last
one t' yield, an' then they'll take y' up as a ringleader, an' then — an' then
.. .' She turned away and wept.
A cold wave stole over
Kydd: women often had a second sight denied to men. 'Come, now, Kitty, that's a
fine carry-on f'r a man t' take away. Mark my words, lass, I'll wager their
lordships '11 be down here, and a-treatin' with us, like they did in Spithead,
in only a day or so,' he said strongly. But the chill feeling stayed.
'Did he, by God!' Parker heard the
seaman out, his face darkening. 'Is he not aware who is the power in this
anchorage? Does he think to top it the mandarin in our presence? Pass the word
for Bill Davis, if you please, Tom, we're going ashore to set straight our
Admiral Buckner.'
The barge glided in
to the steps, and the president of the delegates and his staff stepped ashore.
They strode direcdy across to the fort gate, ignoring the sentry, and went
straight to the commissioner's house. 'Mr Parker, president o' the delegates,
t' see the admiral,' Kydd told the flag lieutenant at the door.
'He is not to be
disturbed,' the officer replied, his face tight.
'He'll see Mr Parker
now,' Kydd said, moving closer.
'Impossible.
He's hearing charges at this moment.'
Parker stiffened. 'Why
do you think we're here, sir?' He moved closer.
'Very
well. I will tell the admiral.'
Parker did not wait.
Following the lieutenant into the room, he stood, feet astride, surveying the
occupants. 'Captain Hartwell,' he acknowledged to the dockyard commissioner.
'Captain Cunningham,' he added, seeing the captain of Clyde to one side. They
glowered back at him.
'Yes, what is it, Mr Parker?'
Admiral Buckner asked, obviously embarrassed.
'You have two marines in your custody, I
understand, Admiral,' Parker snapped. 'Please to yield their persons to me.'
'I don't understand, Mr
Parker. These men were taken up in the town drunk and riotous, and as they are
members of the fleet it is of course my duty to detain them.'
'That, sir, is
precisely why I am here,' said Parker, in hard tones.
'Sir?'
Buckner's voice was weak and unsure.
Parker paced forward.
'Sir, your flag no longer flies and your authority is now gone. These are then
my prisoners and will be disciplined by the fleet.'