A Ship of the Line
Forester, C.F., (1970), A Ship of the Line, Penguin Books, Middlesex.
It’s months ago now that I read A Ship of the Line, way back in the summer in fact, but it's taken me this long to get round to writing a review. Still, better late than never I hope.
I think in many ways I preferred A Ship of the Line to The Happy Return. The absence of crayzee South American dictators was a definite plus point for a start! Hornblower is at his absolute contradictory best at the beginning of the story. Witness his compassion for the unfortunate gaolbirds who find themselves aboard the Sutherland in contrast to his unprincipled pressing of the seaman from the East India Company convoy he is under orders to protect.
The infamous convoy incident really highlights was a gambler and risk taker Hornblower is. He weighs the implications of pressing the East India Company’s seamen and the potential repercussions from the Admiralty, decides the odds are in his favour and before you know it he’s signalling:
All-men-have-volunteered. Thank you. Good-bye.
You’ve got to admire the man’s cheek!
And indeed you do get to admire the man’s cheeks in the ludicrous assault on the canal. I mean really, the mental image of a company of sailors dressed only in their cutlasses with a naked Hornblower at their head is too ridiculous for words. You just know as soon as they strip off on the towpath where their clothes are going to end up. And I have to say I almost cheered when the old woman chucked their clothes into the lagoon. Serves them bloody well right for being such exhibitionists!
We also get to see the full extent of Hornblower’s vanity as he delights in his prizes and the riches they will bring him.
He was at least a thousand pounds the richer by his captures, and that was good to think about. He had never before in his life had a thousand pounds. He remembered how Lady Barbara had tactfully looked away after a single glance at the pinchbeck buckles on his shoes. Next time he dined with Lady Barbara he would be wearing solid gold buckles, with diamonds set in them if he chose, and by some inconspicuous gesture he would call her attention to them.
Vanity thy name is Hornblower. Yes, yes, I know that’s a miss-quote ;)
After the high jinks of the canal attack events take a much darker and more sobering turn with the assault on the French column on the road from Malgret to Arens de Mar which is described in brutal and bloody detail. Ditto the failed attack on Rosas. There are still moments of grim humour throughout though. I loved the description of the guns behaving with "a pigheaded obstinacy that might have been instigated by infernal powers with a perverted sense of humour." And also the sailor who halts a team of horses pulling the guns by shouting "Avast! This beggar's got his starboard leg over the line."
As with the previous book, Bush remains very much in the background. He's just there, integral to the running of the ship but rarely drawing attention to himself. Though when Forester does turn our attention to Bush he really stops the reader in their tracks. In The Happy Return it was "Today's Sunday Sir", here it's "Bush felt sometimes that his life was being shortened by his captain's reticence." Well indeed.
One aspect of A Ship of the Line that I really liked is that the incidental characters are really vividly drawn. Poor Villena may be an object of continual derision but he is believable and sympathetic and I felt rather sorry for him, particularly when Hornlower abandon's him on the Pluto. I also adored the dry and unflappable Major Laird, and not just because he’s a fellow Scot. Sarcasm under fire is always such and admirable quality.
I must ask you offeecially, sir, to go back before I call on my men to retreat. Our retirement will necessarily be hurried.
I also fell for Midshipman Longley. The scene were he guides a panic stricken Hornblower down the cliff face is both gripping and touching and I actually shed a tear at his untimely demise.
Which brings us to the final battle. This for me is one of the highpoints of the series so far. There tends to be a certain Teflon quality to Hornblower in the previous books, you know that whatever the odds he is going to emerge victorious in every engagement. This time there’s no escape. The engagement itself is bloody, brutal and chaotic and Hornblower’s reactions are believable and gut wrenching at the same time. I was particularly moved by Hornblower reassuring Longley that he is not afraid with the words “No, sonny, of course your not,” moments before the lad is killed. And the realisation that he must surrender but that there is no flag left to strike is just tragic. For all his vanity and pomposity Hornblower has never seemed more human and sympathetic than he does in defeat at the end of A Ship of the Line.
One final thought, Hornblower reminiscing about the Droits de L'Homme engagement brought me up short.
It was in these very waters that the Indefatigable and the Amazon had driven the Droits de l'Homme into the breakers, and a thousand men to their deaths. The details of that wild fight thirteen years ago were as distinct in his memory as those of the battle with the Natividad only nine months back; that was a symptom of approaching old age.
A wild fight it certainly was...
It’s months ago now that I read A Ship of the Line, way back in the summer in fact, but it's taken me this long to get round to writing a review. Still, better late than never I hope.
I think in many ways I preferred A Ship of the Line to The Happy Return. The absence of crayzee South American dictators was a definite plus point for a start! Hornblower is at his absolute contradictory best at the beginning of the story. Witness his compassion for the unfortunate gaolbirds who find themselves aboard the Sutherland in contrast to his unprincipled pressing of the seaman from the East India Company convoy he is under orders to protect.
The infamous convoy incident really highlights was a gambler and risk taker Hornblower is. He weighs the implications of pressing the East India Company’s seamen and the potential repercussions from the Admiralty, decides the odds are in his favour and before you know it he’s signalling:
All-men-have-volunteered. Thank you. Good-bye.
You’ve got to admire the man’s cheek!
And indeed you do get to admire the man’s cheeks in the ludicrous assault on the canal. I mean really, the mental image of a company of sailors dressed only in their cutlasses with a naked Hornblower at their head is too ridiculous for words. You just know as soon as they strip off on the towpath where their clothes are going to end up. And I have to say I almost cheered when the old woman chucked their clothes into the lagoon. Serves them bloody well right for being such exhibitionists!
We also get to see the full extent of Hornblower’s vanity as he delights in his prizes and the riches they will bring him.
He was at least a thousand pounds the richer by his captures, and that was good to think about. He had never before in his life had a thousand pounds. He remembered how Lady Barbara had tactfully looked away after a single glance at the pinchbeck buckles on his shoes. Next time he dined with Lady Barbara he would be wearing solid gold buckles, with diamonds set in them if he chose, and by some inconspicuous gesture he would call her attention to them.
Vanity thy name is Hornblower. Yes, yes, I know that’s a miss-quote ;)
After the high jinks of the canal attack events take a much darker and more sobering turn with the assault on the French column on the road from Malgret to Arens de Mar which is described in brutal and bloody detail. Ditto the failed attack on Rosas. There are still moments of grim humour throughout though. I loved the description of the guns behaving with "a pigheaded obstinacy that might have been instigated by infernal powers with a perverted sense of humour." And also the sailor who halts a team of horses pulling the guns by shouting "Avast! This beggar's got his starboard leg over the line."
As with the previous book, Bush remains very much in the background. He's just there, integral to the running of the ship but rarely drawing attention to himself. Though when Forester does turn our attention to Bush he really stops the reader in their tracks. In The Happy Return it was "Today's Sunday Sir", here it's "Bush felt sometimes that his life was being shortened by his captain's reticence." Well indeed.
One aspect of A Ship of the Line that I really liked is that the incidental characters are really vividly drawn. Poor Villena may be an object of continual derision but he is believable and sympathetic and I felt rather sorry for him, particularly when Hornlower abandon's him on the Pluto. I also adored the dry and unflappable Major Laird, and not just because he’s a fellow Scot. Sarcasm under fire is always such and admirable quality.
I must ask you offeecially, sir, to go back before I call on my men to retreat. Our retirement will necessarily be hurried.
I also fell for Midshipman Longley. The scene were he guides a panic stricken Hornblower down the cliff face is both gripping and touching and I actually shed a tear at his untimely demise.
Which brings us to the final battle. This for me is one of the highpoints of the series so far. There tends to be a certain Teflon quality to Hornblower in the previous books, you know that whatever the odds he is going to emerge victorious in every engagement. This time there’s no escape. The engagement itself is bloody, brutal and chaotic and Hornblower’s reactions are believable and gut wrenching at the same time. I was particularly moved by Hornblower reassuring Longley that he is not afraid with the words “No, sonny, of course your not,” moments before the lad is killed. And the realisation that he must surrender but that there is no flag left to strike is just tragic. For all his vanity and pomposity Hornblower has never seemed more human and sympathetic than he does in defeat at the end of A Ship of the Line.
One final thought, Hornblower reminiscing about the Droits de L'Homme engagement brought me up short.
It was in these very waters that the Indefatigable and the Amazon had driven the Droits de l'Homme into the breakers, and a thousand men to their deaths. The details of that wild fight thirteen years ago were as distinct in his memory as those of the battle with the Natividad only nine months back; that was a symptom of approaching old age.
A wild fight it certainly was...