Commentary: The Slave Ship (1/2)
For draugdur, who wanted a commentary of one of my fics - basically notes on the whole writing process like a commentary track on a DVD. After looking at my list of Hornblower fics, I settled on this one. It was recent enough so that I actually remember what I did, and it had quite an strange conceptual history I thought would be interesting to share with everyone.
For the unmarked fic, go HERE
Part Two HERE
My comments will be in bold
This fic was written for a paintings challenge I held back in August/September. Basically what one had to do was to write a fic based on an Age of Sail painting as a prompt. I had a great big list of paintings, but I knew immediately which one I would do. I love JMW Turner's work, and his painting, The Slave Ship spoke to me like no other painting did. Firstly, it was beautiful. Yes, it was beautiful despite the terrible nature of the subject and secondly, I loved Ioan Gruffudd in Amazing Grace and the moment I saw the painting I immediately thought of that movie and all the issues about slavery that I could cover. It was, if you forgive the cliche, love at first sight. So, to the story.
First thing I did was think of a time frame within the book universe. As everyone on my flist knows, I am a bookverse person, because I just love the characterisations in the book so much more. For time frame, I had to think of a setting. I wanted a naval encounter. Obviously then the first thing I thought of was the Middle Passage between Africa and the Americas in the Slave Triangle (this is a subject I learnt in History in Year 10, and it really stuck). This meant setting the story somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean.
In CSF universe, there were three instances of Hornblower being in the Atlantic:
1. Lieutenant Hornblower
2. Before and after the events of The Happy Return
3. In Admiral Hornblower
I crossed off the last one because as a Bush girl I wanted Bush in the story, and of course he'd died by those stories *sobs*. The first one was a possibility, but I wanted Hornblower in charge. I wanted him to be a captain and IMO there were already way too many fics set during that period, in both bookverse and tv seriesverse. (Does that even make sense?). So The Happy Return it was!
Having gone over the last of the Lydia’s accounts with his first lieutenant, Hornblower was in cheerful mood as he put on his shabby jacket and made his way to the quarterdeck. The Lydia was flying over the waves now, making way beautifully thanks to the new spars and sails they’d acquired on St Helena’s. By his calculations, they would see Scilly in a month, and then onto home and an uncertain future.
Now I didn't expect anyone to notice this, but I started my story the same way that Hornblower and the Atropos started: Having climbed through the locks....
So the question for me then was, beginning or end of The Happy Return? I simply thought it would be interesting to explore what happened on the voyage back to England after Lady Barbara left the ship. That's a whole three months of material! So I decided to have the ship a few weeks out from St Helena's which, for those not verse in Napoleonic War history, was the island where Napoleon Bonaparte was exiled to after Waterloo. (I thought it was pretty cool how CSF had Hornblower visit the Island. It was obviously done on purpose XD)
And we know how terrible Bush is with his mathematics, so he needs Hornblower to make sense of the accounts. =)
There was no question of expecting anything more than a nod of approval from the Admiralty over his actions in the Pacific. He would consider himself fortunate if he wasn't reprimanded over his reckless, blundered handling of El Supremo. He was just grateful that he’d managed to recapture and sink the Natividad and so avoid the embarrassment of having to explain to the Admiralty and the Government why he had handed the ship over to a maniac.
And then there was the matter of Barbara. The very thought of her brought a flush to his cheek. He was still mindful of their cold parting, his refusal bitter in his tongue. There was times during the trip around the Horn when he’d been tempted… but no. There was never going to be anything between them, not while she was a Wellesley and he a lowly post captain, one who could barely pay for the clothes on his back. No, he had Maria and should be, must be, content with her adoration.
Okay, so a recap of what happened in The Happy Return and more pessimism from our moody captain. I was also trying to echo how Hornblower felt during Flying Colours, when he was in agony over losing the Sutherland and having to face a Court Martial when and if he returned to England, not stopping to think about how heroic his actions were.
Strangely, these thoughts, which would have normally sent Hornblower into one of his foul moods, did nothing to burst that bubble of happiness that grew from his meeting with Bush. Even the whipping wind and gathering clouds that promised a dirty evening could not dislodge him from this ledge of contentment he’d found himself perched on. Hornblower only hoped it didn’t show - it wasn’t fitting for any officer to be walking around the ship with a silly grin plastered upon his face.
The bell echoed down the length of the Lydia. Once. Twice. Four times. With a start, Hornblower remembered his invitation to dine in the wardroom that afternoon. Noting the strain on the sails and with a final glance at the horizon, he passed some instructions to the quartermaster before wandering to his cabin to change.
Although this story is gen, I like to insert bits within the story that could be interpreted as slashy. This is one of those scenes. Just what did Hornblower and Bush do in the great cabin, apart from working on the Lydia's accounts, to leave Hornblower in such a good mood? I'll leave that up to your imagination, folks!
***
“I have no doubt that Wellington will soon make another foray into Spain, if he hasn’t done so already.”
Hornblower groaned silently into his glass as Gerard brought up the topic of Arthur Wellesley’s retreat from Spain for what seemed like the hundredth time that afternoon. The younger Wellesley brother’s recent success had dominated conversations ever since they’d left St Helena’s with several months of newspapers and dispatches. Hornblower glanced at Bush who was sitting on his left, and was pleased to see that his first lieutenant was also looking slightly bored. Bush, aware of his captain’s gaze, turned his head slightly and they shared a rare smile.
This was just to fulfill my obsession with Wellington. No other purpose, really. =)
For those that don't know, before Wellington the nations fighting against France, in particular the English army, had limited success against Bonaparte's Grand Armee. So when Wellington took control of the Army in the Spanish Penninsular and won a couple of spectacular victories, it really set the public alight. This was a public that felt bereft of heros after Nelson's death, and Wellington had arrived to step in Nelson's shoes. His success garnered him honour after honour, and he failed or lost a battle so rarely that when he did, it became the talk of the nation (and many others). I figured that the story would be set around 1809/1810, so Wellington's retreat to Portugal, and the French Army (lead by Massena, I believe) following, expecting to push the English back into the sea but only to find their path blocked outside Lisbon by the Lines of Torres Vedras.
The smile between Hornblower and Bush was inspired by the smile they shared in the Episode Duty in the TV series, you know, the one over dinner after Horatio's wedding night before those annoying Americans arrived? (Well, one American and one French). Anyway....
“I am sure of it, Mr Gerald,” said Hornblower smoothly in reply to his lieutenant’s questioning glance. “After all, he’s already demonstrated several times that Bonaparte’s army can be beat.”
Hornblower may be a moody bastard, but he has pretty good interpersonal skills, IMO
“And beat quite decisively too,” laughed Crystal. “Even Nelson would’ve approved.”
The conversation drifted away to Wellington’s battles in India and Captain Simmonds, who had served in India, was called upon to describe the Battle of Assaye. Wellington’s army’s ability to hold its own against the French had astounded everyone - himself included. He had always scorned - no that was too strong a word - he had always viewed army officers with disdain, a sentiment no doubt shared by many of his peers. The fact that rank could be brought and was expected to be brought rather than earned through merit rankled his sensibilities. Hornblower knew that there were gentlemen of ability in the Army despite its tendency towards upper class bias- Edrington for one and Wellington was evidently another. But they were the minority and that probably explained the Army’s previous string of failures on mainland Europe. A point, Hornblower grinned inwardly, often bandied by everyone in the navy from the common sailor to the politicians over at Westminster.
More fangirly references to Wellington. But hey, there's not entirely irrelevant, after all, Hornblower just courted his sister and it was hot topic during that time. Edrington - another tv series reference. I quite liked him, actually. He was a little snobbish but aren't all army officers snobbish? I mean, look at Wellington!
Hornblower, having risen to his rank merely due to his own accomplishments and not that much patronage (okay, don't look at me like that. I like Pellew, okay? Anyway, not as much as some others, Nelson, for example?) would not look very kindly on the army's system of promotion. And there's the reference to Army/Navy antagonism. =)
There was a knock on the cabin door and Galbraith scurried in with a look of excitement lighting up his thin face. The drunken chatter died away as he made his way to Hornblower’s side.
Inspired by that moment near the beginning of Captain Horatio Hornblower, the 1950 movie with Peck and Mayo. You know, how the little midshipman runs enthusiastically into Hornblower's cabin as he was about to eat, runs out with Horatio's message but kept on getting called back at the door by Hornblower. (Once about not running, once about closing the door &c). Each time he comes back to Hornblower's desk a little slower. It's a delightful scene.
“Sir, Mr Gray sent me down to tell you that a strange sail has been spotted off our bow fifteen or twenty miles distant, heading north-west.”
“Any indication of nationality or type?”
“Too distant to tell, sir.”
“Very well. Tell Mr Gray to carry on our present course and send for me when some indication of their purpose can be discerned.”
“Aye, aye sir! But...” a flash of confusion flickered across Galbraith’s face as he absorbed the information. Hornblower raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, Mr Galbraith?”
“Nothing, sir. By your leave, sir?”
Hornblower indicated the door with an incline of his head and turned to the table. Expectant faces stared back at him as he fought back a bark of laughter. There was every possibility that it might be a French privateer or frigate, but seeing that they were on a common trade route, it was more than likely to be a merchant ship or another English man-of-war. He raised his glass and drained its contents.
“How about a game of whist, gentlemen?”
Ahhh the inscrutable Hornblower! Not revealing his hands even to his officers, not wanting to seem too excited. And of course whist. What else can I say?
With this whole dinner setting, I wanted it to feel somewhat like the one in Master and Commander, the movie that is, except obviously a bit more formal and uptight because people, let's face it, the HH series is just so very series and quite bereft of humour. There wouldn't be any opportunity for the weevil joke in Hornblower, and I cannot imagine Hornblower sprouting out puns (I nearly typed buns XD).
***
Half an hour later, after Hornblower had won the first rubber, Galbraith came running back into the room, flushed and out of breath.
“Sir, Mr Gray says that the ship appears to be a barque, and not flying any flags.”
Beside him, a sigh of disappointment escaped from Bush’s lips. Hornblower grinned smugly. As he thought, only a merchant ship. Nevertheless, it might be carrying letters and the most recent news from England.
The sigh is a reference to his rather bloodthirsty nature. We know how much Bush loves a battle, any battle. His eyes literally lights up at the thought of a fight and prize money. Yeah. That's partly why I love him so much *g*
“Very well, tell Mr Gray I will be on deck presently.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
Hornblower took the next three tricks and won the second rubber. Gerard threw down his cards with an amused grin. “The game’s yours, sir.”
Hornblower ducked his head to avoid seeing the glances he knew his officers would be exchanging.
“Ha-h’m, it does appear to be that way, Mr Gerard.”
Hornblower beating everyone at whist? *ticks* Hornblower being modest? *ticks* Hornblower's little cough? *ticks*
He stood and reached for his hat. Chairs scraped as Gerard and Crystal followed suit, leaving Bush to tidy the cards on the table.
I just had to put that in. We know Hornblower can be pretty mean to his first lieutenant at times, but Bush, being his wonderful perpetually cheerful self, doesen't really mind. Besides, I like to think him a sticker for neatness and propriety. Hence, if the cards are strewn all over the table, he just had to tidy it.
“Very well gentlemen, let’s see what news our barque has for us, shall we?”
Without another word he strolled out of cabin and onto the quarterdeck. The wind had veered and picked up several knots so he ordered for the sails to be trimmed. A glance at the horizon showed him the barque not seven miles distant and seemingly unaware of their proximity. He pulled up his telescope and noted its distinctive fore-and-aft rigged aft-most mast and the shape of its hull. From the way it lumbered across the waves, it was probably short-handed. However, it didn’t seem to be wallowing in a way that indicated it carried significant cargo. At their present course, they would probably intersect it in less than two or three hours, well before the sun sets.
Bush joined him on the quarterdeck and Hornblower silently handed him the glass, watching his face as he scanned the horizon. “Do you reckon she’s one of ours, sir?” he asked suspiciously.
“It would appear so,” Hornblower replied shortly.
“It’s just strange, sir, that she would be travelling alone without a convey, especially in these waters.”
How many of these quarterdeck sharing the watchglasses scenes have we seen in both bookverse and tv seriesverse (there I am doing it again *grrr*)?
Hornblower did not answer. The same question had arisen in his mind the moment Galbraith had informed him of its nature back in the cabin. Despite the Royal Navy’s blockade of the enemy fleets back home, frigates and privateers have been able to slip out and play havoc on Britain’s trade, hence the need for escorted convoys. This ship’s captain was either very, very stupid or very, very confident. The other option, the one that Bush was entertaining, was less likely but still viable nonetheless.
France couldn't beat Britain's fleets, but they certainly did wreck havoc on their commerce! I put this in to point out that Hornblower had been relatively lucky that he'd rarely had to sail with a convoy, and also to foreshadow events in A Ship of the Line where Hornblower is tasked with convoy escort duties and hilariously ends up pressing their men. =)
Bush had lowered his glass and was looking at him questioningly.
“We’ll unreef the fore-tops’ls, Mr Bush.”
“Aye, aye sir.”
Bush returned the telescope with a slight smile. Hornblower stood for a moment and watched him give his orders in that familiar, clear, strong voice of his. He shivered and turned to watch the ship through his glasses once more.
Another one of those "interpret as you will" scenes. XD I had a bit of trouble with sailing sequences here. I had absolutely NO IDEA what sails should be reefed/unreefed or furled and when, so I just made an educated guess based on my Trafalgar Companion book and online resources. I also spent a while thinking about the directions of the chase. The Lydia is sailing from South to North and then North East via the gulf stream (I think that's the route ships take, correct me if I'm wrong) whereas the slave ship would be going in a North Westerly direction. So they would be sailing perpendicular to each other. This sounds simple, but trust me, it took me several edits before I settled it to my satisfaction.
Strange.
Hornblower frowned as he saw more sails being bent on the barque. Something was wrong. Surely they must have noticed the Lydia by now?
“Mr Bush - our flag, if you please.”
A few minutes later, the Union Jack was flapping in the strong evening breeze. Hornblower looked at the barque for a reaction. The quarterdeck was almost silent with tension and anticipation as minutes ticked by. Finally, the response came. The barque set all sail possible in this wind and picked up speed, visibly pulling away from the Lydia.
“Looks like it’s trying to avoid us, sir,” remarked Bush as he rejoined him with his own telescope in hand. “Shall I set more sail, sir?”
Hornblower nodded. “Mr Galbraith, the log, if you please.”
The sails were set and a few minutes later Galbraith reported that the Lydia was making a good 12 knots. Not her best but it will be enough to reach the barque before nightfall. Hornblower doubted even the stupidest man would risk setting more sail in this weather - especially if the barque was loaded with cargo.
BTW, I'm not sure but did Galbraith die in A Ship of the Line or not? I do know CSF was particular found of killing of the mids, especially those Hornblower had taken a liking to.
And what was it loaded with? Hornblower immediately dismissed troop transport as it was too small and a man of war usually accompanied them. And given the latest news suggesting that Bonaparte was amassing his forces for some major campaign in Europe, it was highly unlikely that he would send a major invasion force to England’s colonies.
Reference to the invasion of Russia, 1812.
There was every possibility that the barque was an enemy or neutral merchant ship, but somehow the idea didn’t sit right with Hornblower. The design was British and every instinct in his body told him that she was British. And there was really only one reason that a British ship would run from a man of war flying the Union Jack.
It was the only possibility that made sense, and the implications sent a chill through Hornblower’s blood.
It had only been three years since the Slave Trade Act was passed through parliament and two years since the Royal Navy had started to enforce it. But enforcement was lax. Quite a few of Hornblower’s fellow captains had interests in the slave trade and its associated industries - cotton mainly. On occasions like this a suspect ship would be ‘lost in the dark’ or somehow find a way to outsail a man of war. Hornblower had seen a slave auction when he was in Port Royal a decade back and its memory left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Okay, I admit, the title of the fic spoiled the big review. But the picture itself spoilt it, so even if I'd chose a different title, the revelation would've been moot point anyway.
Reference to Amazing Grace and Wilberforce. It wasn't until 1832 that the Slave Trade was banned across the British Empire.
And reference to Lieutenant Hornblower. I mean, surely, while he was waiting for Bush to recover or while he was busy fitting out The Retribution, he would've seen slave auctions?
“She’s not a trooper, sir, that’s for sure,” commented Bush, breaking Hornblower’s stream of thought. He glared at his first lieutenant who, as usual, was unperturbed and continued to chatter. “Most likely a merchant, sir, given we’re on a rather busy area of sea.”
Bush loves to chat Hornblower up, even if Hornblower's response is usually a glare or just stony silence.
Hornblower decided to humour him - given that there was nothing else to be amused about.
“What kind of cargo do you think she’s carrying, Mr Bush?”
Bush looked mildly surprised. “From the way she is riding in the water, I would assume something light, sir. Cotton, maybe?”
If the situation were not so serious, Hornblower would have laughed out loud at the irony. Instead he only replied, “We shall soon find out.”
Bush is mildly surprised because Hornblower rarely asks for his opinion.
Ironic, because cotton was one of those things that the slaves were sold for. The cotton grown in the Americas would be sent back to England.
Back with Part Two in a few hours!