*
* *
He emerged shortly from the fore-hatch,
defiant and watchful. By now the news was around the ship and he knew eyes
everywhere would be on him. The seamen seemed to take it all in their stride,
grinning and waving at him. He went further aft. The master was by the
mizzen-mast, hands on hips, staring down at him. He reached the gangways and
passed by the boat spaces. Binney was on the opposite gangway and caught sight
of him; he turned, hurried aft and disappeared.
He reached the
quarterdeck but Cockburn pushed in front of him, barring his way. 'The
quarterdeck is not the place for you any more, Kydd,' he said stiffly.
'I've got ev'ry right,'
he snarled and, thrusting Cockburn contemptuously aside, he stalked on to the
quarterdeck. All those who were aft froze.
Hawley strode out, and
placed himself squarely in front of Kydd. He jammed on his gold-laced cocked
hat at an aggressive angle and glowered at Kydd. 'You've just ten seconds to
save your neck. Make your obedience and—'
'Sir,' said Kydd,
touching his forehead. His gaze locked with Hawley's, not moving for a full ten
seconds. Then he deliberately turned forward. 'You men at th' forebrace bitts,'
he threw, in a hard bellow. 'Pass the word f'r the delegates.'
He turned slowly and
waited until Coxall hastily made his appearance, Farnall close behind with a
dozen men.
'I lay a complaint. Against this
officer.' Kydd's fierce stare held Hawley rigid. 'He means t' break his solemn
word, an' move against you - us!' There was an awed shuffling behind Kydd. 'I
demand he be turned out o' th' ship, an unsuitable officer.'
There was hesitation
for a fraction of a second: the incredible enormity of what he had done pressed
in relendessly on Kydd, the knowledge that the moment could never be put back
into its bottle, but in his exaltation that he had done right he would dare
anything.
'Get y'r gear, sir. One
chest is all,' Coxall said firmly. Two seamen moved forward and stood on each
side of the officer, much the same as they would for a man to be led to the
gratings for lashes.
'He's
turned ashore — away larb'd cutter, Joe.'
Shocked, Hawley turned
to confront Kydd. 'I shall see you dance at the yardarm if it's the last thing
I do on earth.'
Coxall said evenly,
'Now then, sir, no sense in makin' it worse'n it is.'
It was like waking yet still being in a
dream. Kydd moved about the decks, passing familiar things, trying to bring his
mind to reality, yet all the while recalling Hawley in the receding boat,
staring back at him.
Cockburn ignored him. The gunroom was
full of tension, and it was impossible to remain, so Kydd slung his hammock
forward. Some regarded him with wonder and curiosity, as though he were a
condemned man walking among them.
The master waited until
there was no one near and came up to Kydd, removing his hat. 'It's a brave
thing ye're doing, Mr Kydd, an' I need to say as how I admires it in you.' His
hands twisted the hat and he finished lamely, 'If it weren't f'r m' pension
coming ver' soon— which I needs for m' wife and her sister livin' with us—
I'd be there alongside ye an' all.'
In a half-world Kydd
waited for word from the delegates — they said they needed to contact the
president. He paced up and down, the exaltation ebbing little by little.
Then word came. 'Fr'm
Mr Parker. He wants yer to go aboard Sandwich — an' help 'im personal, like.
C'n we bear a hand wi' yer dunnage, mate?'
Parker was waiting for Kydd at the
entry-port; his handshake was crisp and strong. 'A sincere welcome to you, my
friend,' he said. 'Be so good as to join me at a morsel for dinner - we've a
lot to discuss.'
As Kydd sat down at the
table, Parker's eyes glowed. 'Tom, it's very good to see you here. It was my
heartfelt prayer.' Kydd beamed. 'But might I ask why're you in the rig of a
foremast hand? Where are your breeches, your blue coat?'
'O' course, I wanted to
show me heart with our tars. Tell me, Dick, how goes things?'
Parker pushed back his
plate with a smile, hooked his waistcoat with his thumbs and tilted back his
chair. 'Success is very near, Tom, be assured of that.' He jumped to his feet.
'Come with me.'
They went out on to the
sweeping curve of the admiral's stern walk. Before them was the entire anchorage
of the Nore, dozens of ships of all descriptions, each tranquil and still.
'There! You see? Every
one is owing allegiance to the great cause we have set in train. Each one like
a link in a chain binding to the next, so we have an unbroken bond uniting us
all. And see them - ships-of-the-line, frigates, even fire-ships — all with but
one mind.'
'A rousin' fine sight,' Kydd agreed. The
very presence of the fleet before him was a calm assertion of the lightness of
their course, a comforting vision of thousands of like-minded seamen ready to
hazard all for what they believed. He lingered, savouring the grand vista of
men-o'-war about him, then rejoined Parker inside.
He was sitting at the admiral's
secretary's working desk, rummaging and assembling papers. 'So! To work, then.
Now, what are we going to do with you, Mr Thomas Kydd? Achilles already has her
delegates, and Sandwich is the Parliament ship for the fleet. No, I fancy your
talents can command a higher position. You seem to have a practicality rooted
in intelligence that I have seen rarely, and a loyal heart. However—' He
pondered, then looked up, vexed. 'The delegates can be a disputatious and
difficult crew at times and, I'm grieved to say, not always motivated by
reasons of selflessness. In you I perceive a purity of purpose and a noble
soul, and if only it were in my power to raise you high — but this is not
possible. We are agreed to be an assembly of equals, and as president I - I can
only be the voice of my people. I'm sorry, Tom.'
'Don't ye concern y'self f'r me, Dick.
I'll bear a fist with anythin' I can. Never did want t' top it the bigwig,
anyway. But y' must find somethin' I c'n do — y' must have a clinkin' great
pile o' things t' do?'
Parker's face eased.
'Well, now, since you offer — you've no idea how much detail such a venture as
ours commands, yet to neglect it is folly, leading inevitably to calamity and
ruin. Consider this. We are many thousand, here together. How are we to be fed
and watered without there are arrangements of supply? And if we vote on
regulations of conduct, how are these to be given out to the fleet,, unless
they are written out fifty times? Do accept to be my aide at least, I beg, and
take these duties from my hands.'
'Aye,' Kydd said firmly, 'I will.' This
was something he could do that had clear value. He would find men who could
read and write, set them up at their tasks, and he himself could be available
to Parker as needed.
'My very sincere
thanks, Tom.' He held out his hand. 'I'll remember this day.'
The papers were loosely
organised: minutes of meetings, rough drafts of proclamations, messages from
delegates - it needed pulling together. Kydd put a proposal to Parker: 'C'n I
find two good men t' stand by me, an' a private cabin?' He would need somewhere
his papers would be safe.
'Of course. The
admiral's dining cabin will not be entertaining this age — the table will serve
well, and we may meet round it. I have in mind two who can assist. Both have
their letters and are not friends to the bottle.'
Kydd gathered his resources; he sent his
assistants to secure boxes for the papers, then set about sorting and reading
them. Parker had a fine, imaginative flair for words, with ringing phrases and
legal-sounding threats. It appeared, though, Kydd had to conclude, that his
inclination was more towards the florid than the detailed.
At one point a
well-built, fine-looking seaman entered the big cabin. 'William Davis, cap'n of
Sandwich' he rumbled, with a hard-jawed grin. 'Do I see Tom Kydd, come fr'm the
Caribbee?' 'Aye,' Kydd said.
'Quartermaster's mate in Artemis as was,
goin' aroun' the world? Gets turned over inta — what, some sail-o'-the-line?'
'Trajan'
'An' ends up in a squiddy cutter,
saves 'em all after a spell in a boat?' 'Th' same.'
'Then tip us yer
daddle, cully,' he said warmly, holding out his hand. 'Thoroughbred seaman like
you is who I wants now under m' lee while we're in shoal waters like this'n.'
Kydd was grateful for the uncomplicated
trust: Davis appeared the very best kind of blue-water seaman and he knew he
had a friend in whatever lay ahead. 'Tell me, Bill, d'ye know much about Dick
Parker?'
Davis sat down, his
seaman's gear - knife, marline spike, fox yarns around his neck — incongruous
reflected in the deep mahogany of the table. 'Well, it's true about 'im bein'
an officer, was a reefer in Mediator fer the American war, then shipped in Assurance
but the poor bugger ran up agin Bully
Richards who does 'im fer contempt. Court martial an' he's disrated 'n' turned
afore the mast. Few years later, an' he gets ill an' goes ashore. Dunno what
'appened next, 'cos he ends up in clink fer debt, buys his way out b'
volunteerin' fer the quota. Don't know much else — he's eddicated, you c'n tell
that, comes fr'm Exeter, but wife in the north somewheres. But don't y' ask 'im
too much about that, he's struck on 'er, very close they is.'
Kydd worked through the
afternoon; at five bells Parker returned. He was buoyed up as he greeted Kydd.
'If you'd wish it, there's room in the boat for another when I make my visits.
It'll be a chance to see something of our achievement.'
Kydd decided papers and
lists, however important, could wait: it was about time he knew something of
the greater arena.
Before, the barge, a
thirty-two-footer finished in green, scarlet and gilt and under fourteen oars,
was to be seen conveying captains and admirals. Now it was crowded and noisy
with oarsmen, two men arguing over a giant Union Flag, a seaman's band with
trumpets, flutes and drums led by the ship's fiddler, and general revellers.
Many wore ribbons threaded through their hats, some the popular band of blue
with 'Success to the Delegates' in gold. There was no sign of liquor that Kydd
could detect.
Davis took the tiller,
Parker and Kydd with him in the sternsheets. 'Where to, Dick?' Davis shouted,
above the din.
'Director
- then Inflexible, of course, we'll see.'
'Yair. Let go,
forrard!' he roared at the bowman. 'Give way together, m' lads!'
The boat surged away
from Sandwich and the band struck up immediately. They approached Director: her
ship's company, drawn by the merriment, lined her decks. Some mounted the
rigging, and cheers sounded, rolling around the anchorage. Parker rose and
waved, more cheers came. He looked down at Kydd, flushed and distracted, but
there was no mistaking the elation in his face.
They
went about under Director's stern, the racket of the band echoing back from the
formidable lines of the 64, then shaped course for Inflexible. As they
approached the big ship-of-the-line there was the flat thud of a gun and smoke
eddied away from the fo'c'sle.
'A
salute to th' president,' said Kydd.
Parker acknowledged him with a smile.
'The Inflexibles are our most ardent,' he shouted, in Kydd's ear.
Again the decks were
lined, and cheers rang out. When Parker rose, this time he shook both fists in
the air, bringing a storm of raucous applause. He repeated his success at the
next ship, the frigate Proserpine, which promptly erupted in volleys of cheers.
'I believe this calls for a libation of sorts,' Parker said happily. 'Bear up
for the dockyard steps, Bill.'
Just as soon as the
boat came alongside, the men scrambled ashore and formed up into a parade, as
the band took up a rowdy thumping. The huge flag was proudly held high and
taken to the front of the procession.
'Do come with me, Tom. My place is
at the fore, and you should share the honours.' Without waiting for a reply, he
strode up to the head and bowed to the assembling crowd. Kydd followed, and
eased into line behind Parker, who turned and pulled him abreast of himself.