The Bomb Vessel by Richard Woodman Page B

under my command some days ago.’
    Martin looked up at Drinkwater from a pair of watery blue eyes that stared out of a thin, parchment coloured face. Drinkwater fought down his sense of injustice and wounded pride. Feeling like a whipped midshipman he applied the resilience of the orlop, learned years ago.
    ‘If my conduct displeased you I apologise, sir. I had no intention of causing you any concern. As to the manner of my commissioning I can only say that I exerted every effort to hasten the matter. I was prevented from so doing by the officials of the dockyard.’
    ‘The dockyard officers have their own job to attend to, Mr Drinkwater, you cannot expect them to give priority to a bomb tender
    ‘ Aware that he had offended (Martin was probably related to some jobber in the dockyard), Drinkwater could not resist the opening.
    ‘Precisely my point, sir,’ he said drily. Martin’s upper lip curled slightly, a mark of obvious displeasure, and Drinkwater added hastily, ‘I mean no offence, sir.’
    He stared down the commander who eventually said, ‘Now, to your orders for the next week
    ‘
     
    ‘Your sport was most profitable, Mr Q,’ said Drinkwater laying down his knife and fork upon an empty plate.
    ‘Thank you sir. Did you favour the widgeon or the teal?’
    ‘I fancy the teal had the edge. Mr Jex, would you convey my appreciation to the cook.’
    Jex nodded, his mouth still full. Drinkwater looked round the table. It was a cramped gathering, sharing his small cabin with the officers were the two stern chasers and two 24-pound carronades in the aftermost side ports.
    The cloth was drawn and the decanter of blackstrap placed in front of Drinkwater. They drank the loyal toast at their seats then scraped their chairs back. A cigar or two appeared, Trussel brought out a long churchwarden pipe and Willerton slipped a surreptitious quid of tobacco into his mouth. Lettsom took snuff and Drinkwater reflected that apart from himself and Rogers and Mr Quilhampton all those present, which excepted Mr Mason on deck, were well over forty-five, possibly over fifty. The preponderance of warrant officers carried by Virago ensured this, but it sometimes made Drinkwater feel old before his time, condemned to spend his life in the society of elderly men. He sighed, remembering the attitude of Captain Martin. Then he remembered something else, something he had been saving for this moment. ‘By the way gentlemen, when I was aboard Explosion this morning I learned some news from London that will affect us all. Has anyone else learned of it?’
    ‘We know that Admiral Ganteaume got out of Brest with seven of the line,’ said Rogers.
    ‘Aye, these damned easterlies, but I heard that Collingwood’s gone in pursuit,’ added Matchett. Drinkwater shook his head.
    ‘You mean, sir, that it is intended to defend the Thames by dropping stone blocks into it?’ asked Quilhampton ingenuously.
    ‘No, young shaver, I do not.’ He looked round. No one seemed to have any idea. ‘I mean that Billy Pitt’s resigned and that Mr Speaker Addington is to form a new government
    ‘ Exclamations of surprise and dismay met the news.
    ‘Well, ‘twill be of no account, Addington’s Pitt’s mouthpiece
    ‘
    ‘No wonder there are no orders for us
    ‘
    ‘So the King would not stomach emancipating the papists.’
    ‘Damned good thing too
    ‘
    ‘Come Mr Rogers, you surely cannot truly think that?’
    ‘Aye, Mr Lettsom, I most certainly do, God damn them
    ‘
    ‘Gentlemen please!’ Drinkwater banged his hand on the table. The meal was intended to unite them. ‘Perhaps you would like to know who is to head the Admiralty?’ Their faces turned towards him. ‘St Vincent, with Markham and Troubridge.’
    ‘Who is to replace St Vincent in the Channel, sir?’
    ‘Lord Cornwallis.’
    ‘Ah, Billy Blue, well I think that is good news,’ offered Lettsom, ‘and I hear St Vincent will be at Sir Bloody Andrew Snape Hammond’s throat. He has