expression grew troubled at the memory, and his voice changed when he resumed: 'Yeah, fine sort o' seaman. Well, he sees we ain't the stores aboard ‘ll let us sail, an' gets to speakin' with the men. Right reasonable he was, says Cap'n Troubridge would see 'em right if they shows firm.' He looked round the table gravely. 'He says as if they weren't t' take the barky to sea until she was stored proper, it was only their right. Gets half a dozen of his mates an' goes about th' ship organisin'. S' next mornin' they all stands fast when it's 'hands t' unmoor ship' — jus' that, willin' t' do any duty but unmoor, they was.'
'Well, where did you stand in this?' Kydd asked.
Morice's eyes flicked once at him, and he continued, 'An' the cap'n listens, calm as y' like. Lets Cocoa Jack have his say, nods 'n' says, 'Fair enough,' or some such. 'Yes,' he says, when they asks f'r a pardon if they goes back t' duty.'
'Did they get one?'
'Sure they did, and fr'm the cap'n's own mouth in front of the whole company.'
Kydd let out his breath. 'So all square and a-taunto then,' he said.
'Not quite,' Morice said, in an odd manner. 'Hands turn to, but quick as a flash, when they wasn't expectin' it, Troubridge has 'em all clapped in iron garters, an' before they knows it they're in a court martial in the flagship f'r mutiny.' He paused significantly. 'They claims pardon - but funny thing, mates, th' court couldn't find any evidence o' one, no written pardon.' Another pause. 'So five on 'em, includin' Cocoa Jack, gets taken out 'n' hung on the fore yardarm afore the whole fleet.'
While he drained his pot noisily the others exchanged glances. Letting the atmosphere darken, Lane waited and then growled, 'I was in Windsor Castle previous t' this'n, left before they has their mut'ny.' He looked for attention. 'Now that was a downright copper-bottomed, double-barrelled swinger of a mut'ny.
'Remember it's a bigger ship, ninety-eight she was, a stronger crew, and they has the admiral an' all on board. An' it's just the same year as yours, mate, but out in th' Med. Can't swear t' the details, 'cos I'd left b' then, but I heard it all fr'm mates later. Now, ye'll find this a tough yarn, but it's true enough — in the flagship an' all, so hear this. They mutinies because they don't like the admiral, the cap'n, the first 1'tenant an' the bo'sun, and demands they all gets changed!'
There was a shocked silence, until Morice chuckled. 'Yeah, heard o' that one,' he said, to the chagrin of Lane who was clearly winding up to a climax.
'Well, what's t' do then?' Kydd demanded.
Lane finished resentfully, 'No court martial — barring the cap'n only, I should say, an' the cap'n, first luff an' not forgettin' the bo'sun, all gets turned out o' their ship, just as they says.'
'That's all?'
'Is all,' confirmed Lane, 'ceptin' they gets a pardon, every one.'
The surprised grunts that this received were quickly replaced by a thoughtful quiet. Cockburn soberly interjected: 'This is different. At Spithead it's not just one ship but the whole fleet. The Admiralty will never forgive them — there'll be corpses at every yardarm for months.'
'I saw in Th' Times the mutineers are talkin' to Parliament, even got 'em to print their demands in th' paper. It's already past the Admiralty - wouldn't be surprised if Billy Pitt himself ain't involved,' Kydd said.
'Good Lord! I didn't know that.' Cockburn appeared shaken by the news. 'If that's so then this - well, it's never gone so far before. Anything can happen.'
Lane's face tightened. 'O' course, you knows what this means f'r us . ..'
'It's about to start here,' said Cockburn.
The gunner gave a hard smile. 'No, mate. What it means is that Parlyment has t' finish this quick — that means they'll be askin' us an' the North Sea fleet t' sail around to Spithead an' settle it wi' broadsides.'
'No!' Kydd gasped.
