Fic Post
Hornblower, rated G, thanks to princess_s and anteros_lmc for advice and beta duties. This fic probably wouldn't exist witout sarlania's The Slave Ship and the film Amazing Grace
It should not have been necessary to sail to port so soon after leaving the Indies but the sea has little regard for the schedules of man. Hornblower had agreed with Captain Carter’s assessment that it was folly to limp on to Madeira and so they had set course for Philadelphia; the nearest safe harbour from where the Atlantic had battered them. They are both grateful they had journeyed so far north when the storm hit, there were reports of new unrest in Central America and neither relished the prospect of docking there. Hornblower supposes he can give up any ambition to be home for Christmas. One of Carter’s midshipmen had ventured forth with the idea that Hornblower could secure passage on the new Trans-Atlantic steam ship, as if it was a marvelous adventure Hornblower could embark on. Hornblower is too old for such adventures now.
Carter is more than capable of handling the repairs himself so it leaves Hornblower at some leisure in the city. His business in Trinidad was concluded successfully and he is confident of the report he is to make to the Admiralty on his return. His mind is at ease as he wanders through the city, it is almost like a holiday. He is returning to the ship when the boy falls in step with him.
“That’s a fine looking ship, Sir, she a frigate or one of those ships of the line?” When Hornblower turns to see who is addressing him there is a boy of sixteen; perhaps seventeen walking along side him. The tone of his voice is congenial, as if he is saying good day to Hornblower in the park. His skin is a rich, dark colour and Hornblower cannot help but notice the lash marks that are visible. Hornblower pauses in his stride and turns. The boy is smiling easily at him and states, “It’s always been a dream of mine, to serve on a frigate, or a ship of the line, whichever it is. You looking for men?”
“I was looking for new boots, not recruits, and it’s a frigate.” It is only then that Hornblower notices another boy, younger, sullen and standing behind the older one. Hornblower’s gaze is interrupted by the older boy, holding his hand out to Hornblower.
“I’m Ben.”
Hornblower knows of officers who wouldn’t dream of offering their hand to him in a handshake, but he takes Ben’s hand and shakes it, introduces himself. There’s a boldness in the boy and Hornblower admires that. Ben gets rights to the point.
“I’m a good worker, Sir” He gestures to the boy behind him, “We both are. Your frigate couldn’t use two more good, reliable, men?”
“You have a great desire to go to sea, Ben?” Hornblower watches the younger boy as he says it; looking away from Ben and himself as they speak.
Ben’s tone shifts, it is less congenial and more urgent, “We have a great desire to be away, Sir.”
Hornblower suspects they are runaways. There are free communities they could seek shelter in within the United States; there is even Canada. Hornblower can only conclude someone is therefore in pursuit of them and Ben suspects their capture may be close at hand. In all propriety Hornblower should excuse himself, perhaps give them some money to aid their further escape. They are not in British jurisdiction and it is none of his business. He finds himself unable to simply walk away though. Looking to delay the decision, he turns to the younger boy.
“And what is your name then?”
The boy continues to look away from him, as if Hornblower does not exist for him, Ben elbows the boy gently and declares, “This is my little brother, Sir.”
The boy raises his eyes at last, “My name is Richard.”
It is like someone has struck Hornblower in the chest. The boy is looking up at him now and Hornblower can see his eyes properly. They are not so very different from his own son’s eyes, but where his Richard’s eyes were wide and shone at that age this Richard’s are glazed and heavy. He makes up his mind in an instant.
“Follow me.”
~
Carter had once been one of Hornblower’s lieutenants, an age ago it seems. He looks from Ben and Richard to Hornblower and back again at Ben and Richard. He sighs and calls for the boatswain to show Ben and Richard to the ratings mess. It is the following day when a message comes from the dock requesting that two men, looking for two runaway slaves, be allowed to come on board.
Carter defers to Hornblower on the matter, and stands behind him while Hornblower sits as the men are ushered in. The man who takes the lead reminds Hornblower of Jack Simpson, it’s something about the set of the mouth that betrays he is a man who revels in his business. There are no pleasantries.
“You have our employer’s property on board. We want it back.”
Hornblower feigns confusion and turns to Carter, “Have we procured wood or provisions from an unreliable source, Captain? That would be very unlikely.”
“Indeed.” Carter is playing along.
The man loses his temper at that, “You know damn well what we mean! They were seen getting on to this boat! Hand them over!”
Hornblower remains seated, he will not honour them by rising, “I shall explain this to you once, gentlemen. You are on a British ship. The British Empire does not recognise slavery and therefore your employer cannot claim ownership of that which only belongs to God and themselves. You have no authority here.” Hornblower stands at that statement to depart, turning to Carter, “It is possible these gentlemen will seek redress with the city authorities, tell them any attempt to interfere with the business of one of Her Majesties frigates will result in us opening fire on the city.”
It is a bluff, Hornblower would not carry out such an action, but he wants to leave these men with no doubt that Hornblower is the one who holds the power here. That on this ship he is below only God and even that is a matter of debate. He can hear their chokes of outrage as he exits.
Carter joins him on the quarter deck once they have set sail later that day. They stand in silence for a moment before Hornblower feels obliged to state, “The decision was mine, if there are any consequences I shall answer for them.” Hornblower doubts there will be; no one from the city or port authorities had embroiled themselves in the affair before they set sail.
Carter pauses, considering the appropriate response, before replying with an, “Aye, aye, Sir.”
~
It is to be expected, that Hornblower’s mind would cast back to those days. He had clung to no opinion regarding the slave trade and its consequences. He supposes, like many, he did not give it much thought at all, he regarded it as something that was perhaps unpleasant but did not concern him.
They had been newly returned from Spain, Archie and he, and visiting Archie’s parents at their house in London. Horatio had returned early, leaving Archie at the theatre house for the next performance and on arrival it had been insisted on that he take tea with Lady Kennedy and her friends in the morning room. He had sat awkwardly amongst them and quietly asked the girl who was serving him if there was any sugar to be had. The girl had looked mortified and unsure of herself; Horatio had no idea what he had said. It was Lady Kennedy who called over to him, “We participate in the boycott, Lieutenant Hornblower, perhaps you would like to try some lemon in your tea? It is quite refreshing.” She had smiled at him and Horatio could tell it was an assurance, that she did not want him to be embarrassed.
But he had been.
Archie had shared his parents abolitionist sentiments, although when they first met his opinions were no more sophisticated than ‘my Papa says’. Horatio had been vaguely scandalized, it was commonly said that Wilberforce was a revolutionary although with the benefit of long life Hornblower now knows he was nothing of the sort. While Archie grew more sceptical regarding his Papa’s general opinions slavery was never an issue they came to disagree about. One of the lieutenants on the Indy’s family had made their money in Bristol and had taken great offence to Archie’s opinions, spitting at them, “And where does the Kennedy money come from? Does your Papa pluck it from trees or does he send your mother on to the street for it?” Only Horatio’s intervention had stopped Archie from striking him.
Horatio had believed the lieutenant was not without a point. The Kennedy’s had the money and leisure to be principled. Archie had seethed for weeks though and Horatio had held his tongue. He knew the Kennedy’s had no interests in the slave trade; that they knew off, there were probably a hundred ways they supported it unwittingly, for it was impossible to do otherwise. It seeped into every fabric of Britain, it had made Britain. The abolition of the trade was seven years away then, and the abolition of the institution entirely thirty eight.
Archie had not been conscious when he was removed from Renown, he was not aware of the context of his surroundings in Kingston. Horatio had occasionally wondered what he witnessed on his journey to the court house. Bush had resided in Kingston for a time during his recovery but only spoke of it directly once, late at night in a tavern, “The things I saw there, Sir…” He had taken another drink and said no more than that, but it was enough.
A slave ship had arrived while Horatio prepared the Retribution. Horatio had gagged at the stench from it, the stink of degradation, of something that was rotten to the core. He had seen them disembark the poor souls who had survived the voyage and he had felt a churning in his gut. Anger and shame that such a thing was allowed to occur by men who called themselves civilized. The thought had come uninvited to him, he would not stand here and watch; he would intervene. He would not care that they would mock him and it would be futile, he would do it anyway. Hornblower had turned away though, and held the handkerchief that was proffered to him to his nose.
~
Hornblower meets Carter on the quarter deck in the morning as customary; they are making good time and have hopes to be back in England shortly after the New Year. He notes Ben about his work, tying knots as if he did not only learn to do so a week ago. Carter follows Hornblower’s gaze, “He’s picked it all up quickly.”
Hornblower turns to face Carter, “Is there any reason why he shouldn’t?”
Carter shakes his head, “None at all, Sir.” With that Carter nods at him and departs. Hornblower knows that Carter is uneasy with the situation but will trust that Hornblower is at least a man willing to take the blame if any is due. Hornblower is not overly concerned; there is precedent for offering American slaves a place in the British ranks after all.
It is only two souls, two for all the times Hornblower turned away and convinced himself it was not his concern. If he is wrong in his assumptions and one day will face judgment at least he can say that once he did not walk on. He is looking out at the horizon when he hears a burst of noise. Hornblower turns to see the child, Richard, suddenly laughing at some antics of the other ratings.
It should not have been necessary to sail to port so soon after leaving the Indies but the sea has little regard for the schedules of man. Hornblower had agreed with Captain Carter’s assessment that it was folly to limp on to Madeira and so they had set course for Philadelphia; the nearest safe harbour from where the Atlantic had battered them. They are both grateful they had journeyed so far north when the storm hit, there were reports of new unrest in Central America and neither relished the prospect of docking there. Hornblower supposes he can give up any ambition to be home for Christmas. One of Carter’s midshipmen had ventured forth with the idea that Hornblower could secure passage on the new Trans-Atlantic steam ship, as if it was a marvelous adventure Hornblower could embark on. Hornblower is too old for such adventures now.
Carter is more than capable of handling the repairs himself so it leaves Hornblower at some leisure in the city. His business in Trinidad was concluded successfully and he is confident of the report he is to make to the Admiralty on his return. His mind is at ease as he wanders through the city, it is almost like a holiday. He is returning to the ship when the boy falls in step with him.
“That’s a fine looking ship, Sir, she a frigate or one of those ships of the line?” When Hornblower turns to see who is addressing him there is a boy of sixteen; perhaps seventeen walking along side him. The tone of his voice is congenial, as if he is saying good day to Hornblower in the park. His skin is a rich, dark colour and Hornblower cannot help but notice the lash marks that are visible. Hornblower pauses in his stride and turns. The boy is smiling easily at him and states, “It’s always been a dream of mine, to serve on a frigate, or a ship of the line, whichever it is. You looking for men?”
“I was looking for new boots, not recruits, and it’s a frigate.” It is only then that Hornblower notices another boy, younger, sullen and standing behind the older one. Hornblower’s gaze is interrupted by the older boy, holding his hand out to Hornblower.
“I’m Ben.”
Hornblower knows of officers who wouldn’t dream of offering their hand to him in a handshake, but he takes Ben’s hand and shakes it, introduces himself. There’s a boldness in the boy and Hornblower admires that. Ben gets rights to the point.
“I’m a good worker, Sir” He gestures to the boy behind him, “We both are. Your frigate couldn’t use two more good, reliable, men?”
“You have a great desire to go to sea, Ben?” Hornblower watches the younger boy as he says it; looking away from Ben and himself as they speak.
Ben’s tone shifts, it is less congenial and more urgent, “We have a great desire to be away, Sir.”
Hornblower suspects they are runaways. There are free communities they could seek shelter in within the United States; there is even Canada. Hornblower can only conclude someone is therefore in pursuit of them and Ben suspects their capture may be close at hand. In all propriety Hornblower should excuse himself, perhaps give them some money to aid their further escape. They are not in British jurisdiction and it is none of his business. He finds himself unable to simply walk away though. Looking to delay the decision, he turns to the younger boy.
“And what is your name then?”
The boy continues to look away from him, as if Hornblower does not exist for him, Ben elbows the boy gently and declares, “This is my little brother, Sir.”
The boy raises his eyes at last, “My name is Richard.”
It is like someone has struck Hornblower in the chest. The boy is looking up at him now and Hornblower can see his eyes properly. They are not so very different from his own son’s eyes, but where his Richard’s eyes were wide and shone at that age this Richard’s are glazed and heavy. He makes up his mind in an instant.
“Follow me.”
~
Carter had once been one of Hornblower’s lieutenants, an age ago it seems. He looks from Ben and Richard to Hornblower and back again at Ben and Richard. He sighs and calls for the boatswain to show Ben and Richard to the ratings mess. It is the following day when a message comes from the dock requesting that two men, looking for two runaway slaves, be allowed to come on board.
Carter defers to Hornblower on the matter, and stands behind him while Hornblower sits as the men are ushered in. The man who takes the lead reminds Hornblower of Jack Simpson, it’s something about the set of the mouth that betrays he is a man who revels in his business. There are no pleasantries.
“You have our employer’s property on board. We want it back.”
Hornblower feigns confusion and turns to Carter, “Have we procured wood or provisions from an unreliable source, Captain? That would be very unlikely.”
“Indeed.” Carter is playing along.
The man loses his temper at that, “You know damn well what we mean! They were seen getting on to this boat! Hand them over!”
Hornblower remains seated, he will not honour them by rising, “I shall explain this to you once, gentlemen. You are on a British ship. The British Empire does not recognise slavery and therefore your employer cannot claim ownership of that which only belongs to God and themselves. You have no authority here.” Hornblower stands at that statement to depart, turning to Carter, “It is possible these gentlemen will seek redress with the city authorities, tell them any attempt to interfere with the business of one of Her Majesties frigates will result in us opening fire on the city.”
It is a bluff, Hornblower would not carry out such an action, but he wants to leave these men with no doubt that Hornblower is the one who holds the power here. That on this ship he is below only God and even that is a matter of debate. He can hear their chokes of outrage as he exits.
Carter joins him on the quarter deck once they have set sail later that day. They stand in silence for a moment before Hornblower feels obliged to state, “The decision was mine, if there are any consequences I shall answer for them.” Hornblower doubts there will be; no one from the city or port authorities had embroiled themselves in the affair before they set sail.
Carter pauses, considering the appropriate response, before replying with an, “Aye, aye, Sir.”
~
It is to be expected, that Hornblower’s mind would cast back to those days. He had clung to no opinion regarding the slave trade and its consequences. He supposes, like many, he did not give it much thought at all, he regarded it as something that was perhaps unpleasant but did not concern him.
They had been newly returned from Spain, Archie and he, and visiting Archie’s parents at their house in London. Horatio had returned early, leaving Archie at the theatre house for the next performance and on arrival it had been insisted on that he take tea with Lady Kennedy and her friends in the morning room. He had sat awkwardly amongst them and quietly asked the girl who was serving him if there was any sugar to be had. The girl had looked mortified and unsure of herself; Horatio had no idea what he had said. It was Lady Kennedy who called over to him, “We participate in the boycott, Lieutenant Hornblower, perhaps you would like to try some lemon in your tea? It is quite refreshing.” She had smiled at him and Horatio could tell it was an assurance, that she did not want him to be embarrassed.
But he had been.
Archie had shared his parents abolitionist sentiments, although when they first met his opinions were no more sophisticated than ‘my Papa says’. Horatio had been vaguely scandalized, it was commonly said that Wilberforce was a revolutionary although with the benefit of long life Hornblower now knows he was nothing of the sort. While Archie grew more sceptical regarding his Papa’s general opinions slavery was never an issue they came to disagree about. One of the lieutenants on the Indy’s family had made their money in Bristol and had taken great offence to Archie’s opinions, spitting at them, “And where does the Kennedy money come from? Does your Papa pluck it from trees or does he send your mother on to the street for it?” Only Horatio’s intervention had stopped Archie from striking him.
Horatio had believed the lieutenant was not without a point. The Kennedy’s had the money and leisure to be principled. Archie had seethed for weeks though and Horatio had held his tongue. He knew the Kennedy’s had no interests in the slave trade; that they knew off, there were probably a hundred ways they supported it unwittingly, for it was impossible to do otherwise. It seeped into every fabric of Britain, it had made Britain. The abolition of the trade was seven years away then, and the abolition of the institution entirely thirty eight.
Archie had not been conscious when he was removed from Renown, he was not aware of the context of his surroundings in Kingston. Horatio had occasionally wondered what he witnessed on his journey to the court house. Bush had resided in Kingston for a time during his recovery but only spoke of it directly once, late at night in a tavern, “The things I saw there, Sir…” He had taken another drink and said no more than that, but it was enough.
A slave ship had arrived while Horatio prepared the Retribution. Horatio had gagged at the stench from it, the stink of degradation, of something that was rotten to the core. He had seen them disembark the poor souls who had survived the voyage and he had felt a churning in his gut. Anger and shame that such a thing was allowed to occur by men who called themselves civilized. The thought had come uninvited to him, he would not stand here and watch; he would intervene. He would not care that they would mock him and it would be futile, he would do it anyway. Hornblower had turned away though, and held the handkerchief that was proffered to him to his nose.
~
Hornblower meets Carter on the quarter deck in the morning as customary; they are making good time and have hopes to be back in England shortly after the New Year. He notes Ben about his work, tying knots as if he did not only learn to do so a week ago. Carter follows Hornblower’s gaze, “He’s picked it all up quickly.”
Hornblower turns to face Carter, “Is there any reason why he shouldn’t?”
Carter shakes his head, “None at all, Sir.” With that Carter nods at him and departs. Hornblower knows that Carter is uneasy with the situation but will trust that Hornblower is at least a man willing to take the blame if any is due. Hornblower is not overly concerned; there is precedent for offering American slaves a place in the British ranks after all.
It is only two souls, two for all the times Hornblower turned away and convinced himself it was not his concern. If he is wrong in his assumptions and one day will face judgment at least he can say that once he did not walk on. He is looking out at the horizon when he hears a burst of noise. Hornblower turns to see the child, Richard, suddenly laughing at some antics of the other ratings.