H.M.S. Cockerel: The Alan Lewrie Naval Adventures #6

451 Pages·2009·1.85 MB·English

by  Dewey Lambdin

Fiction The Alan Lewrie Naval Adventures #6 McBooks Press DDeeTwwhe Alaeen Leyywrie Naval Adventures #6
1793: after four years ashore, the thrill of the HH
high seas await Alan Lewrie once more. Finding LLaammbbddiinn
life as a gentleman farmer and family man oppres­
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sive, Lewrie is gratified when Revolutionary France
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threatens war and the Royal Navy beckons. Aboard
the H.M.S. Cockerel Lewrie must deal with a diffi­
cult captain and disgruntled seamen. But in the
..
Mediterranean he throws caution to the wind as he SS
meets the bewitching Lady Emma Hamilton and
finds himself at the Battle of Toulon. Outnumbered ..

three­to­one, Lewrie takes on the French in a desper­
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ate bid to help the Royalists escape.
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Praise for Dewie Lambdin
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“You could get addicted to this series. Easily.” kk
—The New York Times Book Review
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“His mastery of period naval warfare gives his bat­
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tles real punch.” —Publishers Weekly
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“The brilliantly stylish American master of salty­
tongued British naval tales.” —Kirkus Reviews ll
Dewey Lambdin is a self­proclaimed “Navy brat”
and a sailor since 1976. He has worked as a director, LD
writer and producer for television and advertising.
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McBooks Press ISBN 978-1-59013-131-2 b
51795
www.mcbooks.com
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$17.95 US • $19.95 CAN n
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H.M.S. Cockerel
The Alan Lewrie Naval Adventures
The King’s Coat
The French Admiral
The King’s Commission
The King’s Privateer
The Gun Ketch
H.M.S. Cockerel
A King’s Commander
Jester’s Fortune
King’s Captain
Sea of Grey
Havoc’s Sword
The Captain’s Vengeance
A King’s Trade
Troubled Waters
The Baltic Gambit
H.M.S. Cockerel
Dewey Lambdin
The Alan Lewrie Naval Adventures #6
McBooks Press, Inc.
www.mcbooks.com
Ithaca, New York
Published by McBooks Press, Inc. 2009
Copyright © 1995 Dewey Lambdin
First published in the U.S.A. By Donald I. Fine, Inc., New York
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or
any portion thereof in any form or by any means, electronic or me-
chanical, without the written permission of the publisher. Requests
for such permissions should be addressed to McBooks Press, Inc.,
ID Booth Building, 520 North Meadow St., Ithaca, NY 14850.
Cover and interior design by Panda Musgrove.
ISBN: 978-1-59013-131-2
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available upon
request.
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Printed in the United States of America
9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Once again,
For my father,
Lt. Comdr. Dewey Lambdin, USN
With thanks to:
The U.S. Naval Institute for many reference works; MacKenzie of the
Maritime Information Centre, at the Iain National Maritime Museum,
Greenwich, England; To Doug Cantrell at Nashville Tech Community
College for his excellent map of Toulon; To Genevieve and her books
Merde and Merde, Encore where I garnered such wonderfully feelthy
phrases; and thanks to Genoa and Foozle, who cat-napped long enough
for me to get a good day’s work in, now and then.

BOOK I
Quid faciat laetas segetes, quo sidere terram vertere,
Maecenas, ulmisque adiungere vites conveniat, quae
cura boum, qui cultis habendo sit peccori, apibus
quanta experientia parcis, hinc canere incipiam.
What makes the crops joyous, beneath what star,
Maecenas, it is well to turn the soil, and wed
vines to elms, what tending the kine need, what
care the herd in breeding, what skill the thrifty
bees—hence shall I begin my song.
Georgics
Book I, 1–5
Virgil

CHAPT ER 1
Ooh, sir, watch out f’r the . . .”
Wherever I go lately, Alan Lewrie mused, rather resignedly,
I seem to be arse-deep in shit. Oh, well.
He waved off the towheaded young “daisy-kicker” at the Olde
Ploughman Public House’s hitching rail, who stood with silent of-
fer to towel the offending matter from his glossy top boots.
“No use, lad,” Lewrie said as he swung up into the saddle.
“There’s plenty more where I’m going.”
“Oh, aye, sir, so they be!” The lad chirped, letting go the reins he
held. Lewrie dug ha’pence from his wash-leather purse and flipped
it to the daisy-kicker, who whooped with glee, as if the coin were
the first he’d ever earned, as if Lewrie did not reward his chore
each time he departed from the Olde Ploughman.
“’Ta, yer honour, sir!” The boy called as Lewrie turned his horse
west on the High Street. “’Night, Squire Lewrie!”
Lewrie touched the wide brim of his hat with a riding crop in reply
as he clucked his tongue and kneed his mount to a brisk walk.
Squire, Alan sighed with a snort; not exactly true, was it? Squires
were freeholders who rented land to others, while he was only a
tenant, a rent payer himself. Now if I sublet, he thought: perhaps
to a well-off hermit (and was there such a creature as an eremite
with the “blunt,” he wondered?) who wished half an acre down
by the creek, where he could pile himself up a grotto and become
Lewrie’s tenant. Performing, perhaps, the odd Jeremiad—thrice on
Market Days—talking in tongues or dancing like a Dervish, or old
Saint Vitus, would I then be a squire at last? Or even less welcome
in the parish? Might be worth doing, at that—it’d drive Caroline’s
uncle Phineas batty!
His horse paced through the village of Anglesgreen, heading west
for the vale between the rolling hills, hooves clopping on the icy
earthen road, as candles and lanterns were lit in the windows of