A Brig of War

Shadows of Clouds

 September 1798

'I want him flogged, Drinkwater!'

Drinkwater looked up from his breakfast of burgoo at the angry face of Lieutenant Rogers. 'It is not for you to decide the punishment,' he said coldly.

'I know Tregembo's your damned toady, Drinkwater, and that you and the captain are close, but damn it, I threatened him with a flogging and a flogging he shall have!'

'I shall present the facts to the captain and…'

'Oh, devil take the facts man, and devil take your sanctimonious cant…'

'Have a care what you say, Mr Rogers.' Drinkwater stressed the title and resisted the impulse to stand and swing his hand across Roger's choleric face. The restraint was not appreciated.

'Flog him, Drinkwater, or by Christ I'll bring charges against you for failure to maintain good order…'

'You'll do no such damned thing, sir,' snapped Drinkwater. 'You will sit down and be silent while we examine precisely what happened. And, by God, you'll address me as mister.'

'You fail to intimidate me Mister Drinkwater. Your commission predates mine by two weeks. That ain't seniority enough to cut much ice in the right quarters…'

Drinkwater sprang to his feet and leaned across the intervening table. 'Another word, sir, and I'll clap you in irons upon the instant, d'you hear? By God you've gone too far! Two weeks is sufficient to hang you!'

Their faces were inches apart and for a long moment they remained so; then Rogers subsided, answering Drinkwater's questions in resentful monosyllables.

It appeared that during the middle watch Midshipman Dalziell, proceeding forward on routine rounds had stumbled over the feet of Tregembo. The Cornishman had been sleeping on deck. With the three watch system in operation and the brig in the tropics the berth space became intolerable and a number of men slept on deck. There had been an exchange between the midshipman and the able seaman which had resulted in Dalziell bringing Tregembo aft to Rogers. From what Drinkwater had seen of Dalziell he was not surprised at Tregembo's reaction. Drinkwater did not entirely support Earl St Vincent's contention that the men should be made to respect a midshipman's coat. He qualified it by requiring that the midshipman within was at least partially deserving of that respect. He doubted that Mr Dalziell answered the case at all. Besides Drinkwater was damned if Tregembo, or anyone else for that matter, was going to have his back laid open for such a trivial matter.

'Thank you, Mr Rogers.'

'I want the whoreson flogged, d'you hear?' Rogers flung over his shoulder as he withdrew to his cabin. Drinkwater sat in the gunroom alone, sunlight from the skylight sliding in six parallelograms back and forth across the table. He knew Griffiths would not hesitate to flog if necessary. Insolence was not to be tolerated. But had Tregembo been insolent? Drinkwater was by no means certain and he had seen the man flogged before. Griffiths, who had slung his hammock above the guns on the lower deck of a seventy-four understood the mentality of the men. There were always those who would challenge authority if they thought they could get away with it, and he knew many seamen who approved of flogging. Life below decks was foul enough without suffering the molestations of the petty thieves, the queers, the cheats and liars, never mind the drunks who could knock you from a yard in the middle of the night. No, swift retribution was welcomed by both sides.

But only if it was just.

'Mr Lestock, Mr Appleby, you are sitting on a tribunal to determine the precise nature of an incident occurring in the middle watch last night during which the captain of the main top, Able Seaman Tregembo, is alleged to have used abuse against Mr Midshipman Dalziell.'

The two warrant officers nodded, Lestock fidgetting since he had had to be relieved on deck by Trussel and was anxious about observing the meridian altitude of the sun at noon. Appleby was splendidly portentous but, for the moment, silent.

'Lieutenant Rogers,' Drinkwater inclined his head to the second lieutenant sitting opposite with one leg dangling over the arm of his chair, contemptuously examining his nails, 'is in the nature of the accusing officer.' He raised his voice, 'Mr Q!'

The door opened. 'Sir?'

'Pass word for Mr Dalziell and then have Tregembo wait outside to be called.'

'Aye, aye, sir,' replied the boy casting a frightened look round the interior of the gunroom which had changed its normal prefectural atmosphere to one of chilly formality. Dalziell knocked and entered. He had not had the sense to put on full uniform.

'Now Mr Dalziell, this is an inquiry to establish the facts of the incident that occurred this morning…' Drinkwater went laboriously through the formal process and listened to Dalziell's carefully stated account.

He had gone forward on the rounds that were performed by either a master's mate or a midshipman at hourly intervals. He had found the man Tregembo asleep under the fo'c's'le with his legs obstructing the ladder and had stumbled over them. The man had woken and there had been an exchange. As a consequence Dalziell had ordered him below. There had been a further exchange after which Dalziell had brought Tregembo aft to the officer of the watch. 'And Lieutenant Rogers said he would see the man flogged for his insolence, sir.' It was all very plausible, almost too plausible, and the malice in that last sentence set a query against the whole.

They called Tregembo. 'What did you say to Mr Dalziell when he stumbled against you?' asked Drinkwater, careful to keep his voice and expression rigidly formal.

Tregembo shrugged. 'I'd been awakened zur, I thought it was one of my mates,' he growled.

'Were you abusive?' butted in Lestock, 'come man, we want the truth.'

Tregembo shot a glance at Drinkwater. 'Happen I was short with him, zur,' he conceded but repeated, 'I thought it was one of my mates, zur… I didn't know it was Mr Dalziell, zur.'

'A storm in a tea cup,' muttered Appleby and Rogers flushed. Drinkwater was tempted to leave the matter there, but Lestock persisted to fuss.

'What exactly did you say, man?' he asked testily.

Drinkwater sighed, both Rogers and Dalziell were only holding their peace with difficulty. 'Come Tregembo,' he said resignedly, 'what did you say?'

Tregembo frowned. He knew Drinkwater could not protect him and his head came forward belligerently. 'Why zur, what I'd say to a messmate, that he was a clumsy fucker… zur.'

Drinkwater stifled a grin and he saw both Dalziell and Rogers relax, as though their case was proved.

'That seems to be clear abuse,' said Lestock and Drinkwater suddenly felt angry about the whole stupid business. Without Lestock's tactless interjections he might have ended it then and there, but he now had to take the offensive.

'Now think carefully, Tregembo. What was then said to you? Remember we want the truth, as Mr Lestock says.' Tregembo looked at Dalziell, opening his mouth then closing it again before he caught the intense expression in Drinkwater's eyes. He had known the lieutenant long enough to take encouragement from it.

'He called me an insolent whoreson bastard, zur, and told me to get my pox-ridden arse below decks where it belonged.'

Drinkwater swung his glance swiftly to Dalziell. There was no denial from the midshipman, only a slight flushing of the cheeks. Dalziell blurted. 'And he called me a cocky puppy, damn it!'

'Silence, Mister!' snapped Drinkwater. 'Tregembo, do you mind your tongue in future when you address an officer.' The two exchanged glances and Drinkwater dismissed him. He turned to his two colleagues, suddenly aware that he had closed the case without consultation. 'I am sure you agree with me, gentlemen, that Tregembo's initial remarks were made by mistake under the false assumption that another hand had tripped over him. The manner of Mr Dalziell's subsequent ordering of him below was of such a nature as to disqualify him from receiving the manner of address expected from an able seaman to a midshipman.' There was a sharp indrawn breath from Rogers but Drinkwater was undeterred. 'The midshipmen aboard any ship of which I am first lieutenant will be obliged to behave properly. I will not tolerate the apeing of bloods out whoring which seems the current fashion. It would not be in the interests of the ship to flog Tregembo.'

'Damn you, Drinkwater, damn you to hell.' Rogers leapt from the chair.

'Be silent, sir!' stormed Drinkwater, suddenly furious at Rogers. Then, in a quieter tone he turned to the master and surgeon. 'Well gentlemen, d'you agree?'