'They say th' telegraph has news o' Spithead, that th' mutiny is over.'
'I heard that. What d' you think?'
'Dick Parker thinks it's lies 'n' treachery by th' Admiralty, that they want t' get us back under discipline an' take revenge.'
'I asked what you think, Tom.'
Kydd looked down at the disorderly revelry around Blue Town, and nearer, the streets of Mile Town clear of honest folk. Out at sea clustered the ships at the Great Nore, a broad cordon of open water around them. 'Fine view,' he said, taking it all in. 'Gives ye a perspective, as y' might say.' He turned to Kitty. 'What do I think? We wait 'n' see. Dick's right, we don't give up an inch until we c'n see proper proof, real things th' government can't deny after. We stand fast, m' love.'
* * *
As days passed, the rumpus ashore subsided, as much from satiation as from a shortage of means to continue, and the men stayed aboard. The people of Sheerness began to appear on the streets, believing that Spithead was on the point of settlement and that the Nore would soon follow.
But without proof, the Nore did not drop its guard. Routines were maintained, watch was kept. Parker held apart. A lonely figure, he rose regularly at dawn and paced slowly along the decks, his face remote and troubled.
Kydd became increasingly impatient. With the Royal Navy idle in port and a government set to defiance, a resolution must come soon. At the back of his mind, but as menacing as a caged beast, was the question: would the rumoured pardon be general enough to cover each and every one, no matter what their actions?
He returned to his work. The business of victualling was in actuality no real difficulty: the pursers were in the main detested and had been sent ashore but their stewards were quite capable of making out demands on stores, which although signed by delegates were duly honoured by the dockyard.
Even the press-gang was accommodated. New-pressed hands were processed in the usual way aboard Sandwich: the seamen and able-bodied were sent out to the fleet, the quota men and broken-down sailors kept aboard.
Kydd lifted his pen. It was all very necessary, but quill-driving was no work for a seaman. His eyes glazed, but then a round of shouting and cheers broke in.
'Dick!' called McCarthy, one of the delegates sent to Spithead to get the true lay.
Parker emerged from an inner cabin. Kydd was puzzled that he did not appear more enthusiastic.
More men crowded in. 'We done it! 'S all over!' Their elation was unrestrained. 'Got th' pardon an' all, the lot! Th' fuckin' telegraph was right, Black Dick did it f'r us!'
The deck above resounded with the thump of feet as the news spread. A wave of relief spread over Kydd, until he remembered the pardon - the wording would be critical.
'Have you any proof with you?' Parker said edgily.
McCarthy lifted a sea-bag and emptied a pile of printed matter on the desk, some still smeared with printer's ink. 'An' we have one th't Black Dick hisself clapped his scratch on.' Evidently pleased with himself, he added, 'S' now I goes below an' I lays claim ter a week's grog.'
Parker sifted quickly through the papers, and straightened. 'It does seem we have something, I believe,' he said, but the intensity of his expression did not relax. 'The Parliament committee meets here in this cabin this afternoon.'
'No, it don't!' chortled a seaman. 'We meets at th' Chequers, an' after, we kicks up a bobs-a-dyin' as will have 'em talkin' fer ever.'
'Meetin' comes ter order!' bawled Davis, a broad grin belying his ferocity. Red faces and loud talk around the table showed that perhaps the celebration had been a litde early in starting.
Parker had the papers in a neat pile before him, and waited with impatience. The meeting settled down and, with a frosty look to each side, he began: 'You elected me president of the delegates because you trusted me to see through the knavish tricks of the Admiralty. I have to tell you today, I mean to honour that trust.' He picked up a paper. 'This,' he said, dangling it as though it were soiled, 'is what they intend for us. It's all here, and plain to any who have any schooling in law whatsoever. They've been forced to agree on certain points, only by the steadfast courage of our brothers in Spithead, but it's trickery.'
'Why so?' came a shout.
Parker smiled wolfishly. 'For anything to have any meaning, a rise in wages, a full pardon, everything, it has to have the force of Parliament, evidence to the world that for a surety things are to be changed. This means an Act of Parliament! Now, if you inspect this document carefully, you will see that the instrument they choose to promulgate these concessions is an order-in-council, which as you may recollect retains its force for only a year and a day. So, at the end of this time?'
An angry muttering swelled. 'Show us th' paper!' snarled Hulme, the delegate from Director, who had no patience with his more moderate colleagues. Parker ignored him, and placed it neatly out of sight under the pile.