Parker looked up, his
face venomous. 'This is my concern, not yours. I'm president, not you! If you
don't like the way we're proceeding, with democratic votes, then you'd better
run.'
Kydd sat in the deserted foretop, his
back to the mast, staring out over- the Nore. There had been so little time to
stop and consider: he had been carried along by events and was as powerless to
affect them as a leaf in a fast stream. The ever-spreading consequences of
their actions, the multiplying dire possibilities, the implications for all he
held loyal and true, was it too late to turn away?
It had begun with the
noblest of motives, and this had held him to the cause. But this had not
changed: what had were the stakes. Now it was the mutineers against the world
on a numbing scale. Parker placed final victory for the mutiny against distress
to the country as a whole, and this was something Kydd could not accept.
But could he desert,
and betray the trust and reliance of his shipmates, especially if at this point
they might be winning? He knew he could not.
He had respected Parker,
even admired his knowledge and learning, but there were troubling flaws in his
character. And his influence as president over the more hot-blooded men showed
a worrying lack of common leadership. In effect, the belligerents were taking
control.
If they sparked off some sort of
confrontation, it would most certainly end quickly and bloodily. He could not
have this on his conscience, no matter what the outcome.
This, then, was what it
came down to: he would not desert, he would remain - not so much in devotion to
the cause but to do what he could to restrain the hotheads. Resolved, he swung
over the edge of the foretop and regained the deck.
'Mr Kydd, we bin
lookin' fer you,' Hulme called, catching sight of him. 'Plannin' fer the
blockade in the bays - chop, chop!'
The bays forward on the
main deck, both sides, could hold more men than the Great Cabin, the better to
hear the detailed planning. Kydd took up position to one side and noticed
Parker looking at him suspiciously.
'Our Great Plan,'
Parker announced, once they had all settled. 'A complete blockade of the
Thames.'
It did not take long to go over the main
items. The blockade was to consist of battleships spaced at half-mile intervals
anchored right across the channel, lying to their anchors in the tide: this
would ensure that any vessel passing through would take a full broadside on
both sides from a ship-of-the-line — effectively, utter destruction. Each side
of the line would be patrolled by a frigate and ship-sloop. An anchoring ground
on both sides of the Thames was designed as a holding area for the arrested
ships.
'This will be your authority,' Parker
said, holding up a paper. 'Warrant of detention, signed by the committee.'
More details, then the meeting broke up
in noisy cheerfulness. It was a daring stroke, and action instead of the
boredom of waiting. Some were uneasy: perhaps this would set government and
Admiralty implacably against them, with avenging to be wrought afterwards, no
matter the result.
But Thomas Jepson, the
lively fiddler of Sandwich, put the sailors' feelings best: 'We gets what we
ask, or all London '11 be in an uproar Sat'day night.'
The next morning Kydd joined
Parker on the fo'c'sle head. Standing in the desultory rain, arms folded and
looking out over the grey expanse of the Thames estuary, the president of the
delegates affected not to notice him.
'Goin' well, then,' Kydd said.
Parker glanced once at
him. 'You're with us.'
'Aye.'
'Made peace with your
conscience?' 'I know what I have t' do.'
Unbending, Parker
pointed to the battleships. 'I should suppose they'll kedge and warp across.'
'Wi' this useful
easterly an' on the ebb? They'd be lubbers if they don't cast t' larb'd an'
make a board across t' their place, lettin' go the stream anchor .. .' He
tailed off, aware that he was contradicting Parker.
'You'd never make a
politician, but always a damn fine seaman, Tom.' Parker laughed.
They both looked
out at the scene. Without officers, and with the minimum of fuss, the big
ships-of-the-line took up their moorings and, under topsails and fore-'n'-aft
canvas, leaned to the wind to find their allotted places. Within hours, they
were in position, and the sea highway to the capital was securely closed.
'This
is what I want to see,' said Parker. It was the several picket craft sailing to
intercept merchantmen, working together with the patrolling frigates to
shepherd them to a holding anchorage. One by one merchant captains found
themselves joining a growing number of vessels crowding the mud-flat.
As the numbers swelled,
Parker grew more sombre. 'To see it happen, to know it is my work - it gives me
no pleasure, if you'll believe me. Did I do right? Or have I brought down forces
of vengeance that will undo our precious cause?'
Three
sailors deserting from Lion were brought to the gangway. The committee decided
on two dozen lashes to be applied immediately. But by night disaffected seamen
could take boats and reach the Essex mud-flats, the remote marshlands of
eastern Sheppey or the Isle of Grain, and disappear.
HMS
Maria was a victualler from Deptford. She was laden with stores and provisions
for Jervis - newly created Earl St Vincent - and his fleet still at Lisbon.
Given the Admiralty's non-supply to their own fleet, the committee deemed it
proper that the stores should rightfully go to where they were most needed.
Kydd was soon entering this accession of stores in open declaration and making
out disbursement lists.
The
Inflexible men took more direct means. Several boats were taken ashore where
sheep were seized from terrified farmers and carried bleating out to sea.
Others relieved a fishing smack of its catch.
Days
passed: newspapers told of fear and disorder, chaos on the trading floors,
hunts for Jacobin spies.
Editorials were full of rage at the
mutineers. Still there was no word of a peace mission.
Parker toured the ships
to raise spirits. Some, like Montagu, Director and Inflexible, turned on him,
demanding yet more acts against the silent Admiralty, while others begged a
resolution before their world disintegrated.
'We cannot cravenly
surrender now,' Parker said softly. 'They'll crucify us for what we've done.'
He smiled wanly. 'Do you know, Tom, there are now proclamations posted in
Sheerness that accuse me of "divers acts of mutiny, treason and
rebellion" and promising five hundred pounds for my apprehension? How long
before we all have our fame published so far and wide?'
Kydd saw Parker's
despondent look. 'They must yield! It c'n only be a matter of time, Dick.'
Parker didn't reply.
The breakthrough came just after
dawn. The lookouts in the maintop of Sandwich hailed the deck. 'Deck hooooo! Ships
— men-o'-war, ships-o'-the-line — standin' toward!'
Eager eyes identified
the remainder of the North Sea squadron: Agamemnon, previously Nelson's own
famed ship-of-the-line; Ardent, of equal force; Leopard and Isis, 50-gun ships.
They all flew the Bloody Flag at the main.
'Now! Now we have it!
Dare I say it?' Parker said, exulting in the moment. 'We have a fleet, such a
fleet that is the biggest in England!' The tension of the days fell away, men
manned the shrouds and cheered themselves hoarse.
'With this force,'
Parker said, his eyes bright and staring, 'I can do anything. I've more power
than any admiral — I can descend on whole countries and make them quiver.
There's nothing I can't do. Think of it!'
The Parliament of the
Delegates was called instantly; the agenda, final determination. Discussion
raged - but there was really only one issue: how to wrest attention and redress
for their grievances.
Parker let the
arguments roll on, then stood up tall and proud. 'There is only one course now
left to us, brothers. I'm speaking of the King.' He got complete attention. 'As
I detailed to this Parliament at the beginning of this affair, it is my
contention that the King is surrounded by ministers and advisers who are evil,
self-seeking and avaricious. Now we have the power to cut through those who
have until now ensured that we are never heard, and approach His Majesty
directly.' He paused and smiled. 'I therefore ask this committee for a form of
wording of a loyal address to His Majesty, detailing our grievances. Thank you,
brother seamen.'
There was general
polite applause then discussion began again, but not for long. 'Loyal address
be buggered!' Blake snapped. 'We tells 'im what we want, an' that's all.'
There were hearty
roars, then Hulme put in harshly, 'An' that sharp 'n' quick, too. We gives 'im
a time.'
The idea took root and
Blake shouted, 'One day is all, lads.'
'Give
'im time — two days,' said Hulme.
'Right. We dates it fer
next morning, Toosday, eight o' the clock, an' he has until eight on Thursday
t' give us our reply,' Fearon said, nudging Kydd to note it down.
'We
needs some time t' get it to the palace,' Davis intervened.
'Then we adds six hours
t' that,' Fearon dictated.
Kydd wrote as if in a dream. To demand
things of a king! They had reached the end of their hold on reality.
Parker stood up. 'Find the captain
of Monmouth, if you please, Brother Davis. He's the Earl of Northesk and has
the ear of the King. He is to be alongside ready for my letter to His Majesty
within two hours.'
The cabinet waited in respectful
silence for Pitt to begin. His strained face was sufficient warning that his
news would not be in any wise good. Finally he raised his eyes, his voice
unnaturally soft. 'By Admiralty telegraph I have received the most appalling
news.' He broke off to cough harshly into his handkerchief. 'This morning at
dawn the remainder of the North Sea fleet went over to the mutineers.' Spencer
went white.
'So there is no
mistaking the situation. I will go over the main points. At the moment there is
at our most vulnerable point a battle fleet fully armed and manned by desperate
men, larger by far than even Jervis and Nelson had at St Vincent. With the
final rising there is now no chance whatsoever that any force can be brought to
bear to end this situation.
'We have endured this blockade as long
as we can. Our losses are catastrophic and there are no more reserves. And now
Captain the Earl of Northesk has brought the final disgrace, an ultimatum
addressed to the King himself. I will attend His Majesty after this meeting.'
He paused, choosing his words. 'The
mutineer chief now has a number of possibilities, all of which are deadly to
this country. He can sail wherever he wishes, and menace whoever he will. He is
untouchable. He may wish to use this power to threaten us, and by that I
include the promise to deliver his fleet to the enemies of this country,
France, the Dutch, any. I need hardly say that, in that event, England is
certain of defeat. I confess before you now that I can no longer see any
further act of significance that can have any effect on the outcome of this
miserable affair.'
'There's still Trinity House, Prime
Minister,' Spencer stuttered.
'Yes, my lord, you'll spare me the
details of my worthy and salty old gentlemen's valiant endeavours, please. But
in the main, just what are their chances?'
'They have started at
the northern limits, around the Swin, but there is difficulty . . .'
'Quite so. I
understand,' Pitt said wearily. 'Putting that aside, we have to face reality, gentlemen.
And that is, we have tried and we have lost. There is now no further course
left. Except one. Grenville, it is with the deepest reluctance imaginable, but
I have decided that the time has come to approach the French and treat for
peace.'