Advent Calendar Day 4 Fic: Warships of Letters
My offering this Advent is a flagrant plagiarism, rip off loving tribute to a delightful little BBC Radio 4 series called Warhorses of Letters, a comedy drama about ‘The romantic correspondence between two of history's most important horses: Napoleon's mount Marengo and the Duke of Wellington's own Copenhagen’ which was brought to my attention by the ever lovely feroxargentea, give her joy of her good taste in comedy.
But on the other hand, if you don’t like what follows, you should definitely blame her for telling me about it!!
Oh, and esteven too, for setting this plot bunny running…
If you could possibly mentally read the Desaix’s letters in a French accent it would probably help, and if are able to pick up the BBC’s i-player where you are then I thoroughly recommend you listen to series 2 which is on now, because even though it is about horses it is certainly our era. (end of advert!)
Warships of Letters
The following is a packet of extraordinary love letters between the Sloop Sophie (14 guns) of His Majesty’s Royal Navy and the Desaix (74 guns) a Ship of the Line of Napoleon’s French Navy. The letters were found quite by accident by a team of lofty historians cataloguing the historical sail-borne fungi on a pile of old sails in the Old Sail Loft at the Historic Dockyard, Chatham. The letters were wrapped in a double wrapper of oiled silk and canvas and secreted beneath the well-worn bunt of a mainsail.
The year is December 1801
My dear Mlle Desaix, it is Mlle, is it not?
(Oh, please say you are not a Mme, I feel sure my heart would break if you were married...)
I hope you don’t mind the impertinence, but I felt I had to write and tell you how much I admire you. I know it is an awful cheek - you are this magnificent ship-of-the-line with your 74 guns and I am only a little 14-gun brig (although I am called a Sloop in the service because my captain is a Master and Commander - it’s all terribly complicated) but Oh! I just think you are wonderful! So very pretty and such sweet lines! And the way you move through the water - really, swans aren’t in it!
I doubt you will remember it, but we have actually met. It was a few months ago a couple of miles off Cabo Roig, Spain. You were out with some friends when I spotted you, you were with Formidable, Indomptable, and - Muiron, I think it was, yes Muiron. We actually had a bit of a skirmish I’m afraid: I ran between you and Formidable and you fired upon me! More than once!! It was a bit naughty of me I know, but worth a try (LOL!). It didn’t work of course, not surprising really; after all you are one of the best warships in the Med and just so completely marvellous - but nothing ventured nothing gained as they say. Of course I don’t blame you at all for shooting at me, we are on opposite sides after all, and it’s our job, but if it had been left to me I think I would have just sat there, my sails flapping in the breeze, lost in admiration. You really are so totally gorgeous… J
Anyway, I just thought I would write and tell you that - even though ‘technically’ we may be enemies - I think you are the most wonderful ship there is and I admire you tremendously.
Love
Sophie
x
Sophie Cherie,
Of course I remember you! Who could forget such an enchanting and brave little ship? How well you moved, and so very nimble in stays, the others and I were all full of admiration for your spirit, it was merveilleuse (the French for marvellous, you know?) - we talked of little else for days. It was perhaps not the most sensible of things to do though, you mauvaise fille, there were three of us, all so much bigger than you and you could have been very badly injured, or even sunk entirely, but oh - so brave!
However, if the rumours are correct (and you know how small the Mediterranean can be when it comes to gossip…) dashing and courageous manoeuvres are something of a speciality with you, no? It was you who took that 32-gun xebec-frigate, the Cacafuego, single-handedly, was it not? Such audacity, I applaud you! I have a great fondness for audacity in a ship; it is why I love being a Ship-of-War: it is so much better to risk everything in one glorious action than spend years trundling back and forth with cargo or the mails like some damned mule. Bah!
You are so sweet to write to me and say such lovely things, (although I do not think I am so very beautiful, personally I think my stern is a little too big for true elegance). I was quite touched by your très charmante letter and, I confess, I am a little intrigued too. I feel I would like to get to know you better - will you write to me again? What happened after our little ‘skirmish’? I lost sight of you altogether, although I think perhaps your Captain came aboard. I hope you were not too badly mauled, and thank you for being so understanding about my firing on you - believe me, it was not my choice.
With warmest affection I embrace you to both larboard et starboard, as is the fashion à la France.
Mlle (yes, I am most certainly a Mlle) Desaix.
Dear Mlle Desaix,
OMG, you wrote back! You actually wrote back!! And you remembered me!!! I am quite taken aback and my sails are now so all a-quiver with excitement I can barely write - thank you, thank you, thank you for your lovely words to me, I shall treasure them always!
Of course, your stern is not too big! It is a beautiful stern, nice and high. I must confess I am terribly fond of a pretty behind; I love to look on them, and yours is one of the loveliest I have seen. I think my captain is fond of a good rear too, he is always saying he prefers it a little by the stern, and I know he dearly loves to rake it too. Oh, how I hope we did not rake you in such a way though!
I confess I cannot remember very much about the finer details of our little battle now, it was all so busy and exciting once the cannonballs started flying and I am still really quite new to this kind of thing. Before Captain Aubrey came aboard (that’s my captain’s name -he’s called Lucky Jack in the service, but between you and me I think I’m the lucky one!) I led a very quiet life, quite dull and boring really. Since then, however - Oh My!! Lots of action, strings of prizes, and yes the Cacafuego incident is true! (I am actually really blushing you mentioned it, but actually really really pleased too!). My own stern is nothing to write home about I’m afraid, very low-slung, far too close to the water for my liking, and ever since Captain Aubrey re-stowed my hold it’s even lower L. It is really quite disappointing. I suppose it is your favourite part of a ship too? Please, please, don’t let my saggy posterior put you off, and please write again soon.
I have decided to adopt your French ways, and I embrace you too à larboard et starboard, - and then the larboard again for good measure! Sorry, but I can’t help myself!!
Love,
Sophie
xxx
P.S. After our encounter I was taken to Algeciras for a bit, but the berth they put me in was a long way from you and I couldn’t see you at all (Boooo!!) and then later I was exchanged for three gunboats and a wherry. I don’t know whether I should be insulted or not… I am so glad I am not part of the French Navy though - not that I wouldn’t have loved serving alongside you of course, but even though I am Spanish-built, I feel English through and through and always will, and I love, love, love being part of the Royal Navy.
Much love.
S.
Ma Petite Cherie Sophie,
I remember your Captain - a tall, blond fellow with striking blue eyes was he not? A little cut about perhaps, but an excellent sailor I understand which, for we ships, is by far the most important thing. I am so glad you found someone who matches your courage and bravado, what a waste to have such a spirited vessel as yourself in the hands of a shy or timid captain.
No sweetheart, you did not strike me on my stern, (though what a delightful thought that is, ooh la la!) - but helas, your friends did when they attacked in Algeciras Bay, shattering my windows and a locker beneath. I believe your Captain Aubrey (such a nice name, I feel sure he must have French blood in him somewhere…) was in the cabin with my own excellent Captain Christy-Palliere (a wonderful sailor, you would like him very much I think) having breakfast when it happened. But do not concern yourself ma petite, we have excellent carpenters who worked very fast and now you would not know I had been hit at all, and it is, as they say, The Fortune of War, no?
You should not be concerned at all about your rear view, it is a perfectly lovely little stern and not at all saggy (yes, I looked!) - and you do have the most cunning little quarterdeck, which must make other brigs of your size terribly jealous. I know the fashion is for making much of the stern these days, but I confess I have always preferred a well-stowed top-hamper myself and there, my dear Sophie, you excel! What a mainsail you have, I could not take my eyes off it! It is perhaps a little larger than is quite usual for such a daintily built vessel, but it looks so wonderfully well on you. I almost regret we were never in a position to be yardarm to yardarm, the thought of being entangled in your rigging is quite, quite, distracting - One Day, perhaps…
I am sorry you have been exchanged, and that we will thus have no chance to serve together, but I understand your feelings on the matter entirely, and I share them for my own Navy. So, you are actually Spanish eh? That explains A Lot! Most of the English vessels I have met are frowsy ugly little tubs, no sense of style at all, and frigid - oh so frigid! But you - you are full of hot Mediterranean passion from stem to stern and clew to earing, I knew at once you had to be a proper European!
I must go, I am having my bottom scraped this afternoon - such an indignity, but worth it for the extra speed. Write soon, my little darling, I long to hear more from you.
I embrace you à larboard et starboard encore and lovingly caress your bowsprit.
Your own Desaix
Here the letters end. We have heard there may be more hidden in a locked shot-locker box languishing in Shotts, and we are pursuing our enquiries, but so far we have not been able to verify the facts. We can but hope...