Ramage stopped talking, certain he had made a lame and ineffectual speech, which would have done little more than embarrass the men, so he was startled to hear them cheering again, this time even louder.
As the men were dismissed by their officers he walked under the half deck to look at his cabins for the first time. There the cabin, coach and bedplace seemed larger than usual because they were bare of furniture and the four 12-pounders were down on the dock, not lashed in their usual position, two in the cabin and one each in the coach and bedplace. The canvas-covered deck was painted in a chessboard pattern of black and white, and the sternlights, six big windows with stoneground glass, meant that the cabin had plenty of light. But, Ramage admitted, without a dining table, chairs, settee, armchairs, wine cooler and a desk, both cabin and coach were as inviting as empty warehouses.
He thought for a few minutes. The furniture that he had in the Calypso was very worn: the settee sagged so much that it looked more like a nest in the middle, and the armchair was even worse. His desk and the dining room table had been inherited from the French captain, who obviously had not been fussy about scratching the tops of both. No, all that furniture could stay in the Calypso, a present to her next captain (assuming the dockyard people did not steal it), and he would start fresh with the Dido, buying new furniture. It would give Sarah something to do - she could also choose material for curtains and cushions: she had excellent taste, and Jessop could take her round in the carriage to visit Portsmouth's selection of furniture shops.
And a cot. He suddenly remembered the bedplace was bare, too, and all that was fitted towards the captain's getting a good night's sleep were two eyebolts in the deckhead from which to sling the cot.
The tiny cabin of the captain's clerk was built on to the starboard forward corner of the bedplace, and he walked outside to inspect it. There was no disguising the fact that it was little more than a hutch, but luckily the man wanted little more than room for a small table and a chair and enough room to swing a hammock. Ramage was sure that Luckhurst, his clerk, was more than content: the fact that a hammock was slung showed that the man had already moved in. Well, from now on he was going to be busy - there would be plenty of reports, surveys and returns 'according to the prescribed form' and applications to be made in the next few days before the Dido sailed.
He went back into the cabin and opened the door leading to the balcony stretching across the stern, outside the sternlights. Extending the width of the ship, it was going to be a joy, enabling him to walk back and forth in the fresh air with privacy. And he only had to look over the side and he would see the Dido's wake curling astern beneath him. Yes, a seventy-four was a great improvement on a frigate.
Except . . . There was one important exception. A seventy-four was a damned big ship. From memory, a ship as big as the Dido would be about 275 feet from the end of the spanker boom to the end of the jibboom. In other words she was that long from the aftermost end to the fore end. And the actual ship, forgetting the booms? Well, about 200 ft from the figurehead at the bow to the end of his balcony.
Ramage's thoughts were interrupted by a call from the door, and he realized that Rennick had posted a Marine sentry. 'First lieutenant, sir.'
'Send him in.'
Aitken was carrying a small grey volume. He stopped by the door and looked around. 'Bit sparse at the moment, sir,' he said ruefully.
'Yes, but leave all my stuff in the Calypso. I'm going to buy new for this ship.'
Aitken grinned and said: 'A good idea, sir: that settee was getting a bit uncomfortable!'
'I'll warn her ladyship to buy something special for you,' Ramage said ironically.
'You're too kind, sir,' Aitken said with a straight face. 'By the way, sir, I've brought you a copy of the Port Signals and General Orders. They're not as bad as some I've seen, but I seem to have spent most of my time filling in forms and making reports.'
'Now you hope I'm going to do it.'
Aitken grinned. 'I've been using your clerk, Luckhurst, so he knows his way through the Orders. May I ask how her ladyship is keeping?'
'She's looking forward to seeing you all. You will be able to escort her through the ship: she is staying at The George with me, and one of her first jobs will be to furnish this cabin and the coach.'
'And the Marchesa, sir?'
'She's well. At the moment she is away staying with some friends in the country. I think she'll be sad to hear we've left the Calypso. She had grown fond of the ship during the voyage back from Naples.'
'The ship's company are always asking after her and her ladyship. They reckon the ladies bring them luck.'
'I hope so,' Ramage said soberly. 'Now, what reports have we got to send in today?'
Aitken gave him a grey book. 'I've already done the second order, where it says the captain is to deliver a statement of defects and deficiencies of sails, rigging and stores.'
'That was quite a big job.'
'It was,' Aitken said ruefully. 'It took Southwick and me all day. Still, having the yards down and most of the rigging stripped off made it easier.'
Ramage opened the book and started reading the 'Orders and Instructions'. Aitken had already dealt with the second, and the third needed no action: admirals, captains or commanders were to attend courts martial in frock uniforms with white breeches, and officers at all times when on shore were to wear their 'established uniform' with swords. Subsequent instructions said no work was to be done on Sundays except loading provisions, stores or water, and applications for leave of absence from an officer of a ship refitting had to be sanctioned by the port-admiral. Well, he already had permission to sleep on shore at The George.
A return had to be made daily of all men impressed the previous day but, the orders warned, men were not to be impressed from outward-bound vessels - a pity but understandable: it would be unfair to weaken a ship at the beginning of a long voyage.
And so the instructions went on, covering arriving at Spithead with sick seamen, dealing with newly raised men, and 'No beat of drum is to be admitted . . . except those established, viz. the Reveille, Troop, Retreat and Tattoo.'
There were also warnings. 'It being a practice with the enemy, when they make a capture, to keep an Englishman in the prize, to make answer when hailed by a British ship, particular caution is to be observed . . .'
Except in cases of 'urgent necessity', boats were not to be absent from their ships at mealtimes, and all boats belonging to ships at Spithead were to leave the shore so as to be back on board by sunset. All working parties were to have their breakfast before being sent on duty, and they were to be at their work by six o'clock in summer and as soon as practicable in winter. 'Boats were 'to attend to take them to their dinners at a quarter before twelve, and they are to return to their duty at the expiration of an hour'.
There were forty-four printed instructions, but several more had been added in neat copperplate handwriting, and right at the end, headed 'General Order', was a long note about examinations for lieutenant. Their Lordships, it said, directed that the examination for candidates 'touching their qualifications to serve as lieutenants in the Royal Navy' should take place at Portsmouth, Plymouth and Sheerness as well as at Somerset House on the first Wednesday in every month. A candidate, Ramage noted, because this would very soon concern Paolo Orsini, had to bring: a certificate from the Navy Board saying how long he had served; his journals; certificates from captains under whom he had served of his 'diligence, sobriety and obedience to command', along with a certificate from the minister of the parish where he was born, or some other proof that he had reached the age of nineteen.