Fire
Title: Fire
Author: Anteros
Characters: Hornblower, Kennedy, Pellew, Bracegirdle
Rating: G
Notes: I'm a few days late with this now, but never mind. This is for eglantine_br who wondered what they were doing on the Indy at midsummer. Bretons, Cornish, Scots, they all share common traditions.
Indefatigable at sea, off Point Saint Mathieu, June 1796
It was Hornblower who had been first to notice the unusual activity on shore, shortly before the end of fore noon watch. The Indefatigable was cruising off Point Saint Mathieu, west of Brest, having been replaced on her usual station at the mouth of Brest Roads by the Amazon. Hornblower immediately reported to the captain who accompanied his junior lieutenant to the masthead to observe the activity.
A wooden structure of some kind was being hastily constructed in front of the ruins of the old monastery, not far from the edge of the shore.
“They seem to be building something Sir,” Hornblower pointed out rather unnecessarily, passing the glass to his captain.
“Hmmm yes, so it seems Mr Hornblower,” Sir Edward Pellew replied thoughtfully, “just as I expected.” Hornblower waited for further orders but the captain simply returned his glass and descended to the deck.
Hornblower remained aloft watching the activity from the masthead until the bell sounded the change of watch and his stomach compelled him to retreat to the wardroom.
“He didn’t seem greatly concerned,” Hornblower grumbled to Kennedy over dinner. He was distinctly put out by the captain’s apparent lack of interest in the unusual goings on ashore. “He just said that he’d expected something like this.”
“What do you think the frogs are up to?” the marine lieutenant enquired from the far end of the table.
“I couldn’t say,” Hornblower replied loftily, “but the captain is clearly one step ahead of them. Presumably he’s received intelligence reports.”
Lieutenant Bracegirdle smiled quietly but said nothing.
All afternoon the activity continued and by the end of first dog watch, the edifice by the shore line had resolved into a large pyre.
Hornblower had remained on deck all day, keeping a close eye on the shore. “Well, it’s definitely a signal station of some sort,” he observed to Kennedy who was standing by his side, leaning against the lee rail.
“You think so?" Archie replied. He appeared rather lost in thought, though it hadn’t escaped Hornblower’s notice that had been watching proceedings with as much interest as the rest of the crew.
Hornblower was almost asleep on his feet by the time the bell sounded the end of first watch. He had stubbornly stayed on deck all afternoon and into the evening, watching the makeshift signal station by the ruined monastery. By the time the long summer evening finally faded into night a large crowd had gathered around the pyre. But now it was pitch dark, there was nothing to be seen and Hornblower could barely keep his eyes open a second longer. Stifling a yawn he turned to descend from the quarterdeck and was surprised to find himself face to face with Kennedy.
“What are you doing here Archie? You’re not on watch are you?”
“No, Bracegirdle’s on middle watch.”
“Then what are you doing on deck at this ungodly hour?” Hornblower snapped, tiredness making him irritable.
“I came to watch,” Kennedy replied somewhat obscurely.
Hornblower couldn’t see Archie’s face clearly, but he could vividly picture his tilted smile and arched brow.
“Came to watch what? You just said you weren’t on watch.” Hornblower knew it was exactly the response his infuriating companion expected, but he was too dog tired to even attempt a smart riposte.
“To watch that.” Kennedy replied, pointing towards a patch of darkness where the faintest spark of amber had begun to glow. As Hornblower watched the spark grew into an ember and suddenly flickered into flame.
“Archie!” he cried, all weariness forgotten, “they’re signalling! We must beat to quarters.”
But Kennedy appeared unaccountably unmoved by the urgency of the situation.
“Oh, I don’t think there’s any need for that.”
“But Archie, something’s afoot, we must report to the captain immediately!”
“No need, Horatio,” Archie replied, inclining his head towards the weather side of the quarterdeck, “he’s already seen it.”
Hornblower hadn’t noticed the captain appear on deck, but there he was, standing with the first lieutenant watching the flame on the shore as it flickered and grew. They were talking quietly but there was no urgency in their conversation, no order to clear for action, no signal to beat to quarters.
“What’s he waiting for? He must be waiting to see who they’re signalling to.” Hornblower whispered, answering his own question.
“I don’t think they’re signalling to anyone Horatio.”
Hornblower turned to Kennedy incredulously, “Are you trying to tell me that lighting a six-foot high pyre at midnight, right on the edge of the shore isn’t a signal?”
“Well, yes, it is a signal, I suppose, but they’re not actually signalling to anyone.” Kennedy replied “At least not to anyone except themselves.”
“What on earth are you talking about Archie?” Hornblower was beyond bemused. Not for the first time, his friend was making no sense at all.
“It’s just a fire,” Kennedy stated simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “for midsummer.”
“For what?” Clearly Hornblower was missing something.
“Midsummer, Horatio, it’s the equinox.”
“No it's not, it's the solstice,” Hornblower sniffed, he prided himself on his knowledge of observational astronomy and celestial navigation.
"Oh, yes, of course you're right," Archie conceded with a sheepish smile. "The point is, it's midsummer."
"It may well be midsummer, Mr Kennedy, but why the fire?" Hornblower persisted.
“Why?” Kennedy paused, momentarily lost for words. “Now you ask, I don’t rightly know. I suppose it marks the turning of the year. It’s just what you do at midsummer.”
“Well it’s not what I do.” Hornblower replied rather stiffly. His father had taught him to disdain superstition, and if he had one complaint of the Royal Navy it was the ingrained credulity of officers and men alike.
“No? No, I suppose not,” Kennedy replied quietly, ignoring Hornblower’s obvious scorn. “They used to do it at home when I was a boy.”
“What, you used to build a bloody great pyre and set fire to it?”
“Good heavens no, not us! Father didn’t approve of that kind of thing at all. But some of the older tenants still did it when I was small. Every year at midsummer they built a great bonfire on the top of the hill overlooking the kyles. I crept out of the house one year and went up the hill to try and see what they were doing.”
“And what were they doing?” Hornblower’s disdain was checked by the image of the small boy stumbling up the hill in the darkness towards the tantalising crown of light.
“I don’t know!” Archie laughed. “One of the men spotted me, clipped me round the ear and sent me home. I got such a hiding when my father found out.”
“Your father sounds like a very sensible man Archie.” Horatio observed, not entirely seriously. “I can’t imagine Captain Pellew would put up with that kind of nonsense either.”
“Ah now there you’re wrong Mr Hornblower. While you had your eyes glued to the shore this afternoon, the captain was telling us how the fishermen in Cornwall used to do exactly the same thing. He had more luck than me though,” Archie added a touch wistfully, “the fishermen never clipped him round the ear and sent him home.”
“I shouldn’t think they would have dared!” Horatio laughed, his exhaustion and ill humour melting away as the light on the shore flickered and grew.
The wind had dropped; just the faintest breath of the land breeze stirred the waves, and carried the good smell of wood smoke and warm earth out across the water. The blanket of low cloud that had obscured the horizon all evening had lifted, and by the clear light of the perigee moon they could clearly see the figures congregated around the fire. The spring tide had risen to its highest and the light from the fire reflected on the water, reaching out towards the ship, a slender thread of light connecting them to the people on the shore.
Kennedy and Hornblower remained on deck throughout the middle watch talking quietly, side-by-side, watching as the fire gradually sank back into its golden embers and the light was finally extinguished by the rising sun.
Author: Anteros
Characters: Hornblower, Kennedy, Pellew, Bracegirdle
Rating: G
Notes: I'm a few days late with this now, but never mind. This is for eglantine_br who wondered what they were doing on the Indy at midsummer. Bretons, Cornish, Scots, they all share common traditions.
Indefatigable at sea, off Point Saint Mathieu, June 1796
It was Hornblower who had been first to notice the unusual activity on shore, shortly before the end of fore noon watch. The Indefatigable was cruising off Point Saint Mathieu, west of Brest, having been replaced on her usual station at the mouth of Brest Roads by the Amazon. Hornblower immediately reported to the captain who accompanied his junior lieutenant to the masthead to observe the activity.
A wooden structure of some kind was being hastily constructed in front of the ruins of the old monastery, not far from the edge of the shore.
“They seem to be building something Sir,” Hornblower pointed out rather unnecessarily, passing the glass to his captain.
“Hmmm yes, so it seems Mr Hornblower,” Sir Edward Pellew replied thoughtfully, “just as I expected.” Hornblower waited for further orders but the captain simply returned his glass and descended to the deck.
Hornblower remained aloft watching the activity from the masthead until the bell sounded the change of watch and his stomach compelled him to retreat to the wardroom.
“He didn’t seem greatly concerned,” Hornblower grumbled to Kennedy over dinner. He was distinctly put out by the captain’s apparent lack of interest in the unusual goings on ashore. “He just said that he’d expected something like this.”
“What do you think the frogs are up to?” the marine lieutenant enquired from the far end of the table.
“I couldn’t say,” Hornblower replied loftily, “but the captain is clearly one step ahead of them. Presumably he’s received intelligence reports.”
Lieutenant Bracegirdle smiled quietly but said nothing.
All afternoon the activity continued and by the end of first dog watch, the edifice by the shore line had resolved into a large pyre.
Hornblower had remained on deck all day, keeping a close eye on the shore. “Well, it’s definitely a signal station of some sort,” he observed to Kennedy who was standing by his side, leaning against the lee rail.
“You think so?" Archie replied. He appeared rather lost in thought, though it hadn’t escaped Hornblower’s notice that had been watching proceedings with as much interest as the rest of the crew.
Hornblower was almost asleep on his feet by the time the bell sounded the end of first watch. He had stubbornly stayed on deck all afternoon and into the evening, watching the makeshift signal station by the ruined monastery. By the time the long summer evening finally faded into night a large crowd had gathered around the pyre. But now it was pitch dark, there was nothing to be seen and Hornblower could barely keep his eyes open a second longer. Stifling a yawn he turned to descend from the quarterdeck and was surprised to find himself face to face with Kennedy.
“What are you doing here Archie? You’re not on watch are you?”
“No, Bracegirdle’s on middle watch.”
“Then what are you doing on deck at this ungodly hour?” Hornblower snapped, tiredness making him irritable.
“I came to watch,” Kennedy replied somewhat obscurely.
Hornblower couldn’t see Archie’s face clearly, but he could vividly picture his tilted smile and arched brow.
“Came to watch what? You just said you weren’t on watch.” Hornblower knew it was exactly the response his infuriating companion expected, but he was too dog tired to even attempt a smart riposte.
“To watch that.” Kennedy replied, pointing towards a patch of darkness where the faintest spark of amber had begun to glow. As Hornblower watched the spark grew into an ember and suddenly flickered into flame.
“Archie!” he cried, all weariness forgotten, “they’re signalling! We must beat to quarters.”
But Kennedy appeared unaccountably unmoved by the urgency of the situation.
“Oh, I don’t think there’s any need for that.”
“But Archie, something’s afoot, we must report to the captain immediately!”
“No need, Horatio,” Archie replied, inclining his head towards the weather side of the quarterdeck, “he’s already seen it.”
Hornblower hadn’t noticed the captain appear on deck, but there he was, standing with the first lieutenant watching the flame on the shore as it flickered and grew. They were talking quietly but there was no urgency in their conversation, no order to clear for action, no signal to beat to quarters.
“What’s he waiting for? He must be waiting to see who they’re signalling to.” Hornblower whispered, answering his own question.
“I don’t think they’re signalling to anyone Horatio.”
Hornblower turned to Kennedy incredulously, “Are you trying to tell me that lighting a six-foot high pyre at midnight, right on the edge of the shore isn’t a signal?”
“Well, yes, it is a signal, I suppose, but they’re not actually signalling to anyone.” Kennedy replied “At least not to anyone except themselves.”
“What on earth are you talking about Archie?” Hornblower was beyond bemused. Not for the first time, his friend was making no sense at all.
“It’s just a fire,” Kennedy stated simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “for midsummer.”
“For what?” Clearly Hornblower was missing something.
“Midsummer, Horatio, it’s the equinox.”
“No it's not, it's the solstice,” Hornblower sniffed, he prided himself on his knowledge of observational astronomy and celestial navigation.
"Oh, yes, of course you're right," Archie conceded with a sheepish smile. "The point is, it's midsummer."
"It may well be midsummer, Mr Kennedy, but why the fire?" Hornblower persisted.
“Why?” Kennedy paused, momentarily lost for words. “Now you ask, I don’t rightly know. I suppose it marks the turning of the year. It’s just what you do at midsummer.”
“Well it’s not what I do.” Hornblower replied rather stiffly. His father had taught him to disdain superstition, and if he had one complaint of the Royal Navy it was the ingrained credulity of officers and men alike.
“No? No, I suppose not,” Kennedy replied quietly, ignoring Hornblower’s obvious scorn. “They used to do it at home when I was a boy.”
“What, you used to build a bloody great pyre and set fire to it?”
“Good heavens no, not us! Father didn’t approve of that kind of thing at all. But some of the older tenants still did it when I was small. Every year at midsummer they built a great bonfire on the top of the hill overlooking the kyles. I crept out of the house one year and went up the hill to try and see what they were doing.”
“And what were they doing?” Hornblower’s disdain was checked by the image of the small boy stumbling up the hill in the darkness towards the tantalising crown of light.
“I don’t know!” Archie laughed. “One of the men spotted me, clipped me round the ear and sent me home. I got such a hiding when my father found out.”
“Your father sounds like a very sensible man Archie.” Horatio observed, not entirely seriously. “I can’t imagine Captain Pellew would put up with that kind of nonsense either.”
“Ah now there you’re wrong Mr Hornblower. While you had your eyes glued to the shore this afternoon, the captain was telling us how the fishermen in Cornwall used to do exactly the same thing. He had more luck than me though,” Archie added a touch wistfully, “the fishermen never clipped him round the ear and sent him home.”
“I shouldn’t think they would have dared!” Horatio laughed, his exhaustion and ill humour melting away as the light on the shore flickered and grew.
The wind had dropped; just the faintest breath of the land breeze stirred the waves, and carried the good smell of wood smoke and warm earth out across the water. The blanket of low cloud that had obscured the horizon all evening had lifted, and by the clear light of the perigee moon they could clearly see the figures congregated around the fire. The spring tide had risen to its highest and the light from the fire reflected on the water, reaching out towards the ship, a slender thread of light connecting them to the people on the shore.
Kennedy and Hornblower remained on deck throughout the middle watch talking quietly, side-by-side, watching as the fire gradually sank back into its golden embers and the light was finally extinguished by the rising sun.