Taking no chances, Achilles passed down the line of ships at anchor. No red flags, no mutinous cheering, only the grave naval courtesies of a ship rejoining the fleet Under greying skies the 64 found her berth and the great bower anchors tumbled into the muddy grey where the Thames met the North Sea, and she composed herself for rest.
Chapter 6
This Mr Evan Nepean, my lord. He will furnish you with as complete an account as you'd wish and - dare I say it? - more succinct in the particulars.' As a politician and not a seaman, the First Lord of the Admiralty was happy to turn over an explanation of the calamitous events at Spithead to the secretary: he knew the sea cant of the sailors in mutiny and would field the more delicate matters capably.
'Very well, then,' said Lord Stanhope, easing himself wearily into one of the carved seats around the board table. 'Not the details, if you please, just the salient facts.' Stanhope had made an urgent return from Sweden at the news of the outbreak and was plainly exhausted. But his discreet journeyings abroad had earned him the ear of William Pitt, and it would be folly to underestimate his power.
Nepean moved round the table the better to access the hanging maps above the fireplace. He pulled down one of Great Britain. 'As you will appreciate, sir, our concentrations of force for the defence of the kingdom are the Channel fleet here at Portsmouth to be directed against the French in Brest, and at Plymouth we find our advanced squadron. At Yarmouth we have the North Sea fleet, which looks directly into the Netherlands and the Baltic, and near there we have the Nore anchorage and the dockyard at Sheerness to victual and maintain them.
'For some weeks prior to mid-April, discontent became apparent at Spithead, and on the fifteenth of April last this resulted in open mutiny; the seamen refused duty and the fleet was unable to proceed to sea. They are in such a state at this time, and unhappily have been joined in their mutiny by the Plymouth squadron.'
'Is the situation stable?'
'It appears so at the moment, my lord,' Nepean said carefully. 'The mutinous seamen are keeping good order and discipline, and await a resolution. However, I am not sanguine this will continue - in an unfortunate excess of zeal, blood was shed and the seamen are affronted.'
Stanhope pondered. 'So as we speak, in essence, the approaches to these islands are entirely defenceless.'
'The men talk of sailing to meet the French if they make a sally, my lord, and please note that — praise be - the Nore and North Sea squadron are left to us, they did not mutiny.'
'Pray, why do they persist in their mutiny?'
Nepean shot a glance at Earl Spencer — his was the responsibility for some kind of resolution - but the First Lord continued to regard him gravely, so he continued: 'My lord, they have a number of grievances which they demand find redress before they'll consent to any kind of return to duty.' 'And these are?'
'The level of wages, of course, provisions served at short weight, no vegetables in port, that kind of thing.'
Stanhope looked up with a cynical smile. 'And?'
'Er, liberty in port and some oversight with the sick and wounded — and your lordship will no doubt recall that a couple of years ago the army were rewarded with an increase.'
Frowning, Stanhope turned to Spencer. 'It seems little enough. Can we not . . .'
'With the government's position the weaker for Lord Moira's unfortunate interference, any attempt on revenues will upset a delicate situation — we have suspended gold payments at the Bank of England, we are in dire need of every penny to buy off the Austrians, our last ally in all of Europe. Need I go further?'
'Our entire standing in foreign chancellories is threatened, sir. Do you propose to allow the situation to continue indefinitely?'
'No, my lord,' Spencer said heavily. 'We have compounded with the mutinous rascals for a substantial improvement in their pay, we have even secured a free pardon for this whole parcel of traitors, but still they will not yield.' He wiped his forehead wearily. 'They will not listen to Parliament, sir.'
Nepean broke in: 'This is true, sir,' he said smoothly, 'but we have secured the services of Earl Howe to intercede for us with the sailors. He is to coach to Portsmouth shortly, with plenary powers.'
'Earl Howe?'
'Whom the sailors call "Black Dick". He led them to victory in the action of the Glorious First of June, and they trust him like a father.' A wintry smile appeared. 'It is our last resource. If he does not succeed .. .'
Kydd stood in the foretop as one of the last rituals of the transition from live sea creature to one tethered and submissive was enacted. The sails were furled into a pristine harbour stow, the bunt taken over the yard into a graceful 'pig's ear' and plaited bunt gaskets passed to his satisfaction.
He found himself looking up to take in the sombre brown cliffs and bleak seacoast of Sheppey over the mile or so of scurrying drab sea. Emotions of times past returned sharp and poignant. A great deal had happened since he had left home ...