“That’s the kind of stuff our admirals are made of. We have no quarrel with the majority of our officers. They’re straight, they’re honest, and they’re true to their game. Our quarrel is with Parliament and the Admiralty; our struggle is with the people of the kingdom, who have not seen to it that our wrongs are put right, that we have food to eat, water to drink, and money to spend.”
He waved a hand, as though to sweep away the criticisms he felt must be rising against him.
“Don’t think because I’ve spent four years in prison under the sternest discipline the world offers, and have never been a seaman before, that I’m not fitted to espouse your cause. By heaven, I am—I am—I am—I know the wrongs you’ve suffered. I’ve smelled the water you drink. I’ve tasted the rotten meat. I’ve seen the honest seaman who has been for years upon the main—I’ve seen the scars upon his back got from a brutal officer who gave him too big a job to do, and flogged him for not doing it. I know of men who, fevered with bad food, have fallen, from the mainmast-head, or have slipped overboard, glad to go, because of the wrongs they’d suffered.
“I’ll tell you what our fate will be, and then I’ll put a question to you. We must either give up our stock of provisions or run for it. Parker and the other Delegates proclaim their comradeship; yet they have hidden from us the king’s proclamation and the friendly resolutions of the London merchants. I say our only hope is to escape from the Thames. I know that skill will be needed, but if we escape, what then? I say if we escape, because, as we sail out, orders will be given for the other mutiny ships to attack us. We shall be fired on; we shall risk our lives. You’ve done that before, however, and will do it again.
“We have to work out our own problem and fight our own fight. Well, what I want to know is this—are we to give in to the government, or do we stand to be hammered by Sir Erasmus Gower? Remember what that means. It means that if we fight the government ships, we must either die in battle, or die with the ropes round our necks. There is another way. I’m not inclined to surrender, or to stand by men who have botched our business for us. I’m for making for the sea, and, when I get there, I’m for striking for the West Indies, where there’s a British fleet fighting Britain’s enemies, and for joining in and fighting with them. I’m for getting out of this river and away from England. It’s a bold plan, but it’s a good one. I want to know if you’re with me. Remember, there’s danger getting out, and there’s danger when and if we get out. The other ships may pursue us. The Portsmouth fleet may nab us. We may be caught, and, if we are, we must take the dose prepared for us; but I’m for making a strong rush, going without fear, and asking no favour. I won’t surrender here; it’s too cowardly. I want to know, will you come to the open sea with me?”
There were many shouts of assent from the crowd, though here and there came a growl of dissent.
“Not all of you are willing to come with me,” Dyck continued vigorously. “Tell me, what is it you expect to get by staying here? You’re famished when you’re not poisoned; you’re badly clothed and badly fed; you’re kept together by flogging; you’re treated worse than a convict in jail or a victim in a plague hospital. You’re not paid as well as your grandfathers were, and you’re punished worse. Here, on the Ariadne, we’re not skulkers. We don’t fear our duty; we are loyal men. Many of you, on past voyages, fighting the enemy, lived on burgoo and molasses only, with rum and foul water to drink. On the other ships there have been terrible cruelty and offence. Surgeons have neglected and ill-treated sick men and embezzled provisions and drinks intended for the invalids. Many a man has died because of the neglect of the ship’s surgeons; many have been kicked about the head and beaten, and haven’t dared to go on the sick list for fear of their officers. The Victualling Board gets money to supply us with food and drink according to measure. They get the money for a full pound and a full gallon, and we get fourteen ounces of food and seven pints of liquor, or less. Well, what do you say, friends, to being our own Victualling Board out in the open sea, if we can get there?
“We may have to fight when we get out; but I’m for taking the Ariadne into the great world battle when we can find it. This I want to ask—isn’t it worth while making a great fight in our own way, and showing that British seamen can at once be mutineers and patriots? We have a pilot who knows the river. We can go to the West Indian Islands, to the British fleet there. It’s doom and death to stay here; and it may be doom and death to go. If we try to break free, and are fired on, the Admiralty may approve of us, because we’ve broken away from the rest. See now, isn’t that the thing to do? I’m for getting out. Who’s coming with me?”
Suddenly a burly sailor pushed forward. He had the head of a viking. His eyes were strong with enterprise. He had a hand like a ham, with long, hairy fingers.
“Captain,” said he, “you’ve put the thing so there can be only one answer to it. As for me, I’m sick of the way this mutiny has been bungled from first to last. There’s been one good thing about it only—we’ve got order without cruelty, we’ve rebelled without ravagement; but we’ve missed the way, and we didn’t deal with the Admiralty commissioners as we ought. So I’m for joining up with the captain here”—he waved a hand towards Dyck—“and making for open sea. As sure as God’s above, they’ll try to hammer us; but it’s the only way.”