Paid in Full
Title: Paid in Full
Author: Anteros
Characters: Hornblower, Pellew, Kennedy
Rating: G
Notes: Just a bit of gap filling towards the end of The Duchess and the Devil. Hornblower's perspective on his improbable return and subsequent departure from the Indefatigable. More to follow.
I
Despite the unexpected news of the confirmation of his lieutenant’s commission, it was with a sinking feeling of dread that Hornblower faced Captain Pellew after the “Duchess” and the first lieutenant had departed from the great cabin. He had hoped to escape with them, but Pellew had stopped him as he turned to the door and requested he present a more detailed account of events since La Reve had sailed from Gibraltar, until their improbable reunion aboard the Indefatigable that very morning. Hornblower knew it would be foolishness of the highest order to attempt to conceal the truth from a man as perceptive as Captain Sir Edward Pellew, but he also knew there was more than his own honour at stake. Feeling uncomfortably like Daniel in the lion’s den, Hornblower squared his shoulders and launched into a version of events that he desperately hoped would satisfy Pellew’s professional curiosity while deflecting any questions that might prove awkward to answer.
He related a detailed and faithful account of the loss of La Reve and their encounter with the Spanish fleet. He explained his reasons for entrusting the duchess with the Admiralty despatches, admitted that this had comprised her unforgivably and carefully skirted round any details that might have called Miss Cobham’s true identity into question. He told of the unexpected discovery of Mr Kennedy at El Ferrol and the precarious condition of his health, but he said nothing of the depths to which he had sunk or his attempt to take his own life rather than return to his ship. He shouldered the blame for the disastrous escape attempt while omitting any mention of Hunter’s belligerent insubordination and blatant disobedience of direct orders. Mr Hunter was to be remembered only as a brave and loyal shipmate who had paid the ultimate price, and sacrificed his own life to save the lives of those unfortunate souls who had foundered on the Devils Teeth.
All the while the captain listened, pacing grimly backwards and forwards before the stern windows like a great caged lion. By the time Hornblower stopped speaking his mouth was dry and his palms sweating. The captain paused in his promenade as if gathering his thoughts and then launched his full broadside. Hornblower had expected the worst and when it came, it was worse then he had expected. He was so dumbstruck by the full force of the captain’s tirade that he could only stand and gape. As Pellew thundered on about his punctilious attitude to matters of honour, burdening Her Grace with the despatches, risking life and limb to save a few Dons, Hornblower found his mind straying back to a similar dressing down he had received from his father as a boy.
He couldn’t recall quite how old he’d been, seven or eight perhaps, he had slipped away from the watchful eye of the housekeeper while his father, overworked as always, was out on his afternoon rounds. Preoccupied as he was with his work, Doctor Hornblower rarely had time to indulge his only son with childish games or displays of affection. He had always been a naturally reserved man and had only grown more so since his wife’s untimely passing. Horatio knew that there was a prescription to be delivered to the neighbouring village and, ever the dutiful son, he reasoned that if he could deliver it he would gain not only his father’s approval but also, perhaps, some of his precious time. However the journey had taken his eight year old legs considerably longer than he had anticipated and unable to find the correct house he had ended up hopelessly lost. Long after dark, the local farrier stumbled across him quite by chance and returned him home; miserable, wet and defeated. Dr Hornblower had been furious and despite Horatio’s pitiful protestations that he had been trying to help, he was given the hiding of his life. What he remembered most vividly though was that after mercilessly leathering his backside, his father had seized him in his arms and held him so tightly that the air was all but squeezed from his lungs. Despite having bravely bitten his lip and uttered never a sound throughout his punishment, Horatio had been so astonished by this unexpected display of affection that he promptly burst into tears. His father simply held him tightly until the tears ebbed away and then shooed him off to bed via the kitchen. Later, tucked up in bed, Horatio had revelled in the memory of his father’s embrace, the unfamiliar feel of the rough wool of his jacket against his cheek, the overpowering smell of soap and tobacco and the strong arms encircling him. For a brief moment he wondered if it was worth undertaking another expedition, to see if it would result in a similar outburst of affection, however the smarting of his backside suggested otherwise.
Hornblower was so lost in reverie that it took him a moment to realise that Captain Pellew had stopped pacing and roaring and was now standing staring at him as if in expectation of an answer.
Hornblower cleared his throat awkwardly “Sorry, sir?”
“Mr Kennedy, Hornblower, what of Mr Kennedy?” Pellew frowned irritably and resumed his pacing. “You restore Mr Kennedy, a man presumed lost, a man who has spent two years in Lord only knows what hell holes, to his liberty and his ship, and now you expect him to return to prison? Did Mr Kennedy agree to this Hornblower? Well? Did he man?”
Hornblower swallowed hard and focused all his attention on an indeterminate spot just beyond Pellew’s left ear. “Yes sir…no sir. Mr Kennedy volunteered to come in to the boat sir. He…he would not be left behind.” There was no need to add the word “again”, it was clearly understood.
“Indeed. Of that I am quite sure.” Pellew’s frown deepened. “And did Mr Kennedy also give his parole and word of honour to return?”
“No sir.”
“No sir? Why not sir?!” Pellew stopped abruptly and glared at his junior officer.
“Mr Kennedy was not allowed parole sir.”
“Not allowed parole? Why ever not? He is an officer of his Britannic Majesty’s Royal Navy, surely even the Dons could see that?”
“I think…I believe, sir, Mr Kennedy was not allowed parole as he repeatedly attempted to escape.”
“Did he now?” The captain raised an enquiring eyebrow.
“Aye sir, five times I believe sir.”
Pellew’s eyebrows ascended further yet up his forehead.
“Are you telling me Mr Hornblower, that Mr Kennedy attempted to escape from prison five times and now that the has finally gained his freedom you expect him to return to prison on your word alone?”
“No, sir.” Hornblower choked out the words, his voice thick and hoarse.
“Well Mr Hornblower I can only hope that Mr Kennedy values your word of honour more than his own liberty.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We shall see what Mr Kennedy and the rest of your men have to say soon enough. First go and get yourself fed and cleaned man. I wouldn’t put a miscreant midshipman ashore looking like that, never mind a commissioned lieutenant of my ship. Look at your self man!”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Hornblower looked up and smiled weakly.
“One last thing Hornblower, I’m proud of you boy. Couldn’t have done better myself.” Pellew cleared his throat loudly and turned to gaze out the bright stern windows.
Hornblower nodded uncertainly at his back and departed.
II
The entire ships company had turned out to see the men of Hornblower’s division assembled on the starboard side of the main deck. Kennedy was standing in front of them, erect but pale, his eyes screwed up against the bright morning sun. Hornblower himself was stationed at the far end of the line. He felt a sickness in the pit of his stomach that not even the unaccustomed rolling of the ship could account for. That these men would give up their very freedom to preserve the honour of a junior officer of such staggering incompetence that he had sailed them right into the middle of the Spanish fleet was arrogance of the highest order. He had failed to command their loyalty during their previous incarceration, the idea that they would willingly follow him back to prison, meek as lambs, now seemed laughable. And as for Kennedy? Hornblower couldn’t even bring himself to look at Kennedy.
The captain had descended the quarterdeck companion and was pacing the deck in front of the men with slow measured strides. Hornblower’s mind was working feverishly, churning over the fate that awaited him when he returned to El Ferrol, ignominious and alone.
“It would seem that Mr Hornblower has been most unkind to you men.” Though facing the men of his division the tone of the captain’s voice made it clear he was addressing the entire ships company.
“He has given his parole to the Dons that he will return.”
Would he be held accountable for those that failed to return?
“More than that, he has given your parole.”
Would he be deemed to have besmirched his honour and violated his parole? How would Don Massaredo react to this unforgivable desecration of his sacred principals of honour?
“However his word does not bind yours.” Pellew had reached the end of the line and was standing in front of Styles just feet from Hornblower.
How would they punish him? Would they throw him in the pit again? The very thought of that suffocating horror was almost enough to unman him.
“You are free to remain here among your old comrades aboard your own ship,”
And what of the Transport Board and the Admiralty? How would Captain Pellew report this debacle to the authorities?
“or you can return with Lieutenant Hornblower…”
Even if he survived the war and was eventually released he would surely be dismissed from the service in disgrace. Though by then his career would be in tatters anyway. Not worth the scrap of paper his new lieutenant’s commission was written on.
"…to imprisonment in Spain.”
Pellew had stopped right in front of Kennedy but his penetrating gaze was fixed on Hornblower. The silence stretched for an age, broken only by the creaking of the ships timers and the mewing of the gulls overhead. No one spoke.
That was it, he had failed the test, he would return to prison alone and in disgrace.
“If Mr Hornblower has given his word…that holds good for me sir.”
Shaken from his maudlin trance, Hornblower glanced down the line in disbelief. And there was Kennedy squinting up at the captain, grim faced but determined. He felt like the breath had been knocked from his lungs. Surely he had misheard?
“Does he speak for all of you?” The captain was addressed in the men now. Would they recognise Kennedy’s word as an officer and follow his lead?
“He does sir.”
It took Hornblower a moment to realise who had spoken. He had vainly hoped that if any of them would choose to honour his parole then perhaps it would be Matthews or even Styles, he had not expected Oldroyd to step forward. But there he was, managing to look both sheepish and proud all at the same time.
He had not misheard. They were coming with him, they had chosen to follow his word and, not only that, they had chosen to follow Kennedy’s word. Hornblower let out a long breath and gazed up at the sky. For the first time since he had left the beach at El Ferrol in the teeth of the storm he noticed that it had stopped raining.
“Very well. Mr Bracegirdle set course for land, we’ll go in under a flag of … truce.” Captain Pellew grimaced at the last word as though it’s very expression was distasteful.
Then the company was breaking up, the hands returning to their stations and their duties. His own division remained on deck, proud but bewildered. The master and the Duchess were descending on him, smiling broadly. As he turned towards their congratulations Hornblower glanced towards Kennedy. He alone remained motionless among the bustle of the crew, gazing silently at the deck, though whether in dejection or contemplation Hornblower could not say. Amidst the smiles and congratulations Hornblower was conscious of the debt he owed these men and Kennedy more that most. His word alone had bound them more surely than any locks, bars or chains. He was indebted and now it was his duty to pay that debt in full.
Author: Anteros
Characters: Hornblower, Pellew, Kennedy
Rating: G
Notes: Just a bit of gap filling towards the end of The Duchess and the Devil. Hornblower's perspective on his improbable return and subsequent departure from the Indefatigable. More to follow.
I
Despite the unexpected news of the confirmation of his lieutenant’s commission, it was with a sinking feeling of dread that Hornblower faced Captain Pellew after the “Duchess” and the first lieutenant had departed from the great cabin. He had hoped to escape with them, but Pellew had stopped him as he turned to the door and requested he present a more detailed account of events since La Reve had sailed from Gibraltar, until their improbable reunion aboard the Indefatigable that very morning. Hornblower knew it would be foolishness of the highest order to attempt to conceal the truth from a man as perceptive as Captain Sir Edward Pellew, but he also knew there was more than his own honour at stake. Feeling uncomfortably like Daniel in the lion’s den, Hornblower squared his shoulders and launched into a version of events that he desperately hoped would satisfy Pellew’s professional curiosity while deflecting any questions that might prove awkward to answer.
He related a detailed and faithful account of the loss of La Reve and their encounter with the Spanish fleet. He explained his reasons for entrusting the duchess with the Admiralty despatches, admitted that this had comprised her unforgivably and carefully skirted round any details that might have called Miss Cobham’s true identity into question. He told of the unexpected discovery of Mr Kennedy at El Ferrol and the precarious condition of his health, but he said nothing of the depths to which he had sunk or his attempt to take his own life rather than return to his ship. He shouldered the blame for the disastrous escape attempt while omitting any mention of Hunter’s belligerent insubordination and blatant disobedience of direct orders. Mr Hunter was to be remembered only as a brave and loyal shipmate who had paid the ultimate price, and sacrificed his own life to save the lives of those unfortunate souls who had foundered on the Devils Teeth.
All the while the captain listened, pacing grimly backwards and forwards before the stern windows like a great caged lion. By the time Hornblower stopped speaking his mouth was dry and his palms sweating. The captain paused in his promenade as if gathering his thoughts and then launched his full broadside. Hornblower had expected the worst and when it came, it was worse then he had expected. He was so dumbstruck by the full force of the captain’s tirade that he could only stand and gape. As Pellew thundered on about his punctilious attitude to matters of honour, burdening Her Grace with the despatches, risking life and limb to save a few Dons, Hornblower found his mind straying back to a similar dressing down he had received from his father as a boy.
He couldn’t recall quite how old he’d been, seven or eight perhaps, he had slipped away from the watchful eye of the housekeeper while his father, overworked as always, was out on his afternoon rounds. Preoccupied as he was with his work, Doctor Hornblower rarely had time to indulge his only son with childish games or displays of affection. He had always been a naturally reserved man and had only grown more so since his wife’s untimely passing. Horatio knew that there was a prescription to be delivered to the neighbouring village and, ever the dutiful son, he reasoned that if he could deliver it he would gain not only his father’s approval but also, perhaps, some of his precious time. However the journey had taken his eight year old legs considerably longer than he had anticipated and unable to find the correct house he had ended up hopelessly lost. Long after dark, the local farrier stumbled across him quite by chance and returned him home; miserable, wet and defeated. Dr Hornblower had been furious and despite Horatio’s pitiful protestations that he had been trying to help, he was given the hiding of his life. What he remembered most vividly though was that after mercilessly leathering his backside, his father had seized him in his arms and held him so tightly that the air was all but squeezed from his lungs. Despite having bravely bitten his lip and uttered never a sound throughout his punishment, Horatio had been so astonished by this unexpected display of affection that he promptly burst into tears. His father simply held him tightly until the tears ebbed away and then shooed him off to bed via the kitchen. Later, tucked up in bed, Horatio had revelled in the memory of his father’s embrace, the unfamiliar feel of the rough wool of his jacket against his cheek, the overpowering smell of soap and tobacco and the strong arms encircling him. For a brief moment he wondered if it was worth undertaking another expedition, to see if it would result in a similar outburst of affection, however the smarting of his backside suggested otherwise.
Hornblower was so lost in reverie that it took him a moment to realise that Captain Pellew had stopped pacing and roaring and was now standing staring at him as if in expectation of an answer.
Hornblower cleared his throat awkwardly “Sorry, sir?”
“Mr Kennedy, Hornblower, what of Mr Kennedy?” Pellew frowned irritably and resumed his pacing. “You restore Mr Kennedy, a man presumed lost, a man who has spent two years in Lord only knows what hell holes, to his liberty and his ship, and now you expect him to return to prison? Did Mr Kennedy agree to this Hornblower? Well? Did he man?”
Hornblower swallowed hard and focused all his attention on an indeterminate spot just beyond Pellew’s left ear. “Yes sir…no sir. Mr Kennedy volunteered to come in to the boat sir. He…he would not be left behind.” There was no need to add the word “again”, it was clearly understood.
“Indeed. Of that I am quite sure.” Pellew’s frown deepened. “And did Mr Kennedy also give his parole and word of honour to return?”
“No sir.”
“No sir? Why not sir?!” Pellew stopped abruptly and glared at his junior officer.
“Mr Kennedy was not allowed parole sir.”
“Not allowed parole? Why ever not? He is an officer of his Britannic Majesty’s Royal Navy, surely even the Dons could see that?”
“I think…I believe, sir, Mr Kennedy was not allowed parole as he repeatedly attempted to escape.”
“Did he now?” The captain raised an enquiring eyebrow.
“Aye sir, five times I believe sir.”
Pellew’s eyebrows ascended further yet up his forehead.
“Are you telling me Mr Hornblower, that Mr Kennedy attempted to escape from prison five times and now that the has finally gained his freedom you expect him to return to prison on your word alone?”
“No, sir.” Hornblower choked out the words, his voice thick and hoarse.
“Well Mr Hornblower I can only hope that Mr Kennedy values your word of honour more than his own liberty.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We shall see what Mr Kennedy and the rest of your men have to say soon enough. First go and get yourself fed and cleaned man. I wouldn’t put a miscreant midshipman ashore looking like that, never mind a commissioned lieutenant of my ship. Look at your self man!”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Hornblower looked up and smiled weakly.
“One last thing Hornblower, I’m proud of you boy. Couldn’t have done better myself.” Pellew cleared his throat loudly and turned to gaze out the bright stern windows.
Hornblower nodded uncertainly at his back and departed.
II
The entire ships company had turned out to see the men of Hornblower’s division assembled on the starboard side of the main deck. Kennedy was standing in front of them, erect but pale, his eyes screwed up against the bright morning sun. Hornblower himself was stationed at the far end of the line. He felt a sickness in the pit of his stomach that not even the unaccustomed rolling of the ship could account for. That these men would give up their very freedom to preserve the honour of a junior officer of such staggering incompetence that he had sailed them right into the middle of the Spanish fleet was arrogance of the highest order. He had failed to command their loyalty during their previous incarceration, the idea that they would willingly follow him back to prison, meek as lambs, now seemed laughable. And as for Kennedy? Hornblower couldn’t even bring himself to look at Kennedy.
The captain had descended the quarterdeck companion and was pacing the deck in front of the men with slow measured strides. Hornblower’s mind was working feverishly, churning over the fate that awaited him when he returned to El Ferrol, ignominious and alone.
“It would seem that Mr Hornblower has been most unkind to you men.” Though facing the men of his division the tone of the captain’s voice made it clear he was addressing the entire ships company.
“He has given his parole to the Dons that he will return.”
Would he be held accountable for those that failed to return?
“More than that, he has given your parole.”
Would he be deemed to have besmirched his honour and violated his parole? How would Don Massaredo react to this unforgivable desecration of his sacred principals of honour?
“However his word does not bind yours.” Pellew had reached the end of the line and was standing in front of Styles just feet from Hornblower.
How would they punish him? Would they throw him in the pit again? The very thought of that suffocating horror was almost enough to unman him.
“You are free to remain here among your old comrades aboard your own ship,”
And what of the Transport Board and the Admiralty? How would Captain Pellew report this debacle to the authorities?
“or you can return with Lieutenant Hornblower…”
Even if he survived the war and was eventually released he would surely be dismissed from the service in disgrace. Though by then his career would be in tatters anyway. Not worth the scrap of paper his new lieutenant’s commission was written on.
"…to imprisonment in Spain.”
Pellew had stopped right in front of Kennedy but his penetrating gaze was fixed on Hornblower. The silence stretched for an age, broken only by the creaking of the ships timers and the mewing of the gulls overhead. No one spoke.
That was it, he had failed the test, he would return to prison alone and in disgrace.
“If Mr Hornblower has given his word…that holds good for me sir.”
Shaken from his maudlin trance, Hornblower glanced down the line in disbelief. And there was Kennedy squinting up at the captain, grim faced but determined. He felt like the breath had been knocked from his lungs. Surely he had misheard?
“Does he speak for all of you?” The captain was addressed in the men now. Would they recognise Kennedy’s word as an officer and follow his lead?
“He does sir.”
It took Hornblower a moment to realise who had spoken. He had vainly hoped that if any of them would choose to honour his parole then perhaps it would be Matthews or even Styles, he had not expected Oldroyd to step forward. But there he was, managing to look both sheepish and proud all at the same time.
He had not misheard. They were coming with him, they had chosen to follow his word and, not only that, they had chosen to follow Kennedy’s word. Hornblower let out a long breath and gazed up at the sky. For the first time since he had left the beach at El Ferrol in the teeth of the storm he noticed that it had stopped raining.
“Very well. Mr Bracegirdle set course for land, we’ll go in under a flag of … truce.” Captain Pellew grimaced at the last word as though it’s very expression was distasteful.
Then the company was breaking up, the hands returning to their stations and their duties. His own division remained on deck, proud but bewildered. The master and the Duchess were descending on him, smiling broadly. As he turned towards their congratulations Hornblower glanced towards Kennedy. He alone remained motionless among the bustle of the crew, gazing silently at the deck, though whether in dejection or contemplation Hornblower could not say. Amidst the smiles and congratulations Hornblower was conscious of the debt he owed these men and Kennedy more that most. His word alone had bound them more surely than any locks, bars or chains. He was indebted and now it was his duty to pay that debt in full.