Townsfolk watched apprehensively, sensing the mood of anger and frustration. Some called encouragement but for most it was a disturbing, frightening sight - jolly Jack Tar in an ugly mood.
Aboard Sandwich a meeting was called. Parker, pale-faced but resolute, addressed the Parliament. 'We need to step up our vigilance, keep a strong hand in our discipline.' The assembled delegates waited. 'I have here a list of proposed regulations that we—'
'Enough of yer soddin' regulations! Let's 'ave some action, blast yer eyes!'
'The chair recognises Brother Blake, Inflexible? said Parker warily.
'Are we sittin' around here while they waits us out? Be buggered we are! Look, I heard there's soldiers on th' march fr'm Chatham, comin' over King's Ferry now. So how about some regulations fer that, Mr President?'
The news caused a buzz of dismay, but the fire-breathing Blake stood up and challenged, 'Strike Admiral Buckner's pennant, an' hoist the Bloody Flag fr'm the masthead instead. Every fuckin' man-o'-war t' do the same and be damned t' any who stand in th' way of justice an' our rights!'
In the animated discussion that followed, Parker rapped on the table. 'It's more serious than that. If they are moving troops against us, when we have always been peaceable, we are betrayed, brothers. And we can do only one of two things. Surrender without a pardon, or resist. I leave it to this meeting to decide.'
Kydd laid down his quill while argument raged. Soldiers, sent to Sheerness Fort no doubt. Did this mean a deliberate act of encirclement or was it something more innocent? Whatever the reason, Parker was right: their alternatives were few. Their only chance now was a showof strength to persuade the Admiralty that negotiation was in their own best interest. He raised his voice stoutly over the din. 'We take steps t' secure the fleet.'
'An' what's that supposed ter mean?' Blake stared at him suspiciously. Kydd was not a delegate and had no right to speak, but he was given a hearing.
'All ships t' shift moorings t' the Great Nore, ground tackle down so's we're in a defensive circle, that sort o' thing. Then f'r sure they can't come close without we c'n greet 'em with a broadside. They'll never try that, so we'll be safe 'n' snug.'
'Um, intelligent,' Parker mused. 'They can't accuse us of an offensive action, no provocation, but by this we render ourselves quite beyond their power to harm us.'
'What about th' standin' force o' gunboats?' Hulme had made little contribution so far, but this idea was good. Sheerness as a naval port had its local defences, and these included a small squadron of gunboats.
'We helps ourselves, in course,' said Blake warmly. 'An' then we has th' buggers around us t' see off any cuttin' out tricks b' boats.'
'Er, it sounds a useful move, I'll admit,' said Parker doubtfully. 'We must suppose that if we leave them, they may well be used against us. Very well, we make our plans.'
One by one the men-o'-war of the Nore took up their positions; concentrated in a double crescent their combined broadsides were a fearsome threat. Every vessel in Sheerness that could sail was brought out to join the fleet. Some were fearful of the way things were shaping, and a certain amount of coercion, sometimes forceful, was employed.
The column of soldiers made their appearance on the Queenborough road - two full regiments — but they turned out to be militia, and succumbed quickly to the antics of the seamen ashore, who ran alongside taunting or striking up patriotic songs. The soldiers straggled into their barracks in disarray.
In the dockyard the sailors found allies among the shipwrights. In sympathy with the wronged seamen they resolved never to take any vessel for repair unless it was flying a red flag at main. Blue Town loyally urged on the sailors they had taken to their hearts, and when a flotilla of armed boats from the fleet swept round the point they were roundly cheered.
Eight gunboats were boarded and carried, with most crews joining the mutineers. Without delay, they set out to join the fleet.
'Should be comin' in sight any minute,' said Kydd to Parker, clamping his telescope against a shroud.
'And I'd never have considered Blake the man to do it,' Parker said.
Kydd looked out over the low-lying fortifications. 'He's a short-fused beggar, I know, but he's the kind o' man y'd like next to you in a boardin'.' He saw the masts. 'Here they come, thanks be.'
The gunboats drew abreast of Garrison Point. Then came a jet of smoke and the thud of a gun. The next vessel passed; it also fired. And the next took its turn. There was no mistaking this time: an untidy scatter of black fragments leaped skywards. 'Jesus!' shouted Kydd. 'They're bombardin' the fort!'
Chapter 9
‘Kind in you, Dundas — my own shed a wheel this morning, most aggravatin'.'
The Secretary of State for War did not appear particularly communicative, staring out of his carriage window at the sunset traffic on the Thames as they passed over Westminster Bridge.
'Billy Pitt must be hell-bent on some adventure, callin' a cabinet meeting at such a notice,' Windham, leader of the Commons, offered.
'He has much to consairn him.' The burr of a lowland Scot had not entirely left the secretary, but Windham knew that, of all men, Dundas was closest to the beleaguered prime minister. 'Know it for a fact that Lord Moira is tappin' his friends with a view to bringing him and his gov'ment down — wants Northumberland as premier an' Fox to be a minister.'
'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.