Horatio Hornblower - Fighting The Spanish On The Renoun

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One broadside into it, if you please, Captain Bush.

Point is on target.

Wind stops ready.

Eyes are ready.

Fire on it.

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Presenting Michael Redgrave at CS Foresters in Dominable Land of the Sea.

Horatio Hornblower.

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The feeling of success was strange and new or met eventful voyage of my younger days.

Yet it was unmistakably in the air for all of us, officers and men alike.

The new year of 1800 and two dawned with a brighter promise, even there in the West Indies, far from home.

We've taken two Spanish fortresses, destroyed a nest of private ears, and gained security for future convoys making use of the Monae passage.

Now wonder my new friend, Bush, now the second end command of the renowned, stood grinning to himself there on the portodeck as he applied his eye to the ship's telescope.

Morning, Miss Bush.

Happy New Year.

Surely I'm right this is New Year's Day, despite the temperature.

Hornblower, happy New Year to you too.

I hope you've burst his air because you look happy enough what you've turned on again on the sea.

On the second fourth year of the harbour, our party's leaving there.

Oops, putting off from the landing right now.

Yes, there'll be some fireworks any moment then.

Oh, not sure they've got a little farther off.

Tell me.

Does Captain Buckham seem at all elated to you, Bush?

Oh, particularly.

No, what to me, it's strange, isn't it?

Three price ships lying off our stern that go with us to make a five hundred pounds prize money for our good captain.

Then the London knows the hands are pleased enough with the five shillings they'll cook.

Perhaps he's only thinking of the fourth private year we had to sing.

I don't suppose I'll ever understand that, man.

Two Spanish fortresses taken, one of them already destroyed them.

The second of them gone.

Our boat party's safely away.

Now all we do is Spanish guns rule the entrance to Semana Bay,

when she's sentenced of smoke and flying basement.

I have two tons of gunpowder with quite sufficient worth it.

We should be losing sail now.

Soon as he's nubbed, sends up word for these cabbages.

There are always four ships, three price ships, and we're ourselves,

down with full of prisoners and their women.

The least our voyage to Jamaica won't be boring.

The women must be watched, I'd say.

Coming aboard, I thought the men seemed tractable and I've even resigned.

Probably had enough of that weird island there.

Tropic heat, rebellious natives, yellow fever.

Some of them have been stationed there in garrison for years,

but they're selling wives and daughters.

If bailful looks could kill they'd have willed every man of us.

They don't mind showing they can aid to their world,

separating them the way we have ought to take care of that.

There are only about 50 women and their children,

batten down in our midshipments first,

and Murray in centuries always on guard remember,

playing its fixed and muskets loaded here.

And all four hundred of their men,

stowed on our lyrgum deck,

every half-sweighed guarded by six prisoners

aboard each of the three prizes to remember,

except not as many.

And we've got good men of our own aboard those prizes.

Look, there goes Hilfengsmaring, Captain Buckman's gig.

He's boarding the one they call,

La Gadi Tama.

Yes.

No.

Yushan is if I still haven't convinced you.

I'll be convinced once we're safely in Kingston Harbor.

And that's a four week away.

You'll have to let them up, you know, for exercise and air,

conditions down there,

and no better than doing a slave ship.

Oh, aren't you, lad?

And look here, on blower.

I'll be a bit more cheerful, will you?

Oh, you mean nightmares?

Hmm.

Well, isn't sending word this time?

Our captain comes himself.

We're dead in bush.

No, captain?

It's a...

It looks as if the damage ashore is complete enough, doesn't it, sir?

Yes.

We'll get underway just as soon as the shore boats hoisted in.

If you please.

I accept.

All hands dead by to get underway.

All hands on my own way.

All hands on my own way.

All hands on my own way.

And host that shore boat line that I'm in to, you know?

Oh, bush was entitled to feel satisfied, as opposed as one day followed another without event.

There we were, a small armada.

One but his ship, shepherding three Spanish prizes.

Four specks alone and tiny, in a vast, sun-wrenched sea.

On the renown, we will have short-handed, both as two officers,

and men.

Although each of the prize crews was small enough in all conscience,

this fact produced no crisis.

Watch succeeded watch, and all was calm.

A tight and proper routine seemed to have been established.

Yet I still couldn't avoid a slight uneasiness.

Oh, sir!

Exercise period, sir.

I'm sorry, sir.

I'm sorry, sir.

I'm sorry, sir.

I'm sorry, sir.

I'm sorry, sir.

I'm sorry, sir.

Exercise period, sir.

Yes, the regular hour after...

No doubt.

Bush, look, am I seeing things again or am I right?

That woman over there by the hatchback, beside the century.

She doesn't look exactly solid.

No, she's fine.

Sure, she's flirting with one of our Marines.

Sergeant, please!

Come here, please.

Sit down, gentlemen.

Sit down.

Thank you for coming.

Oh, shut the door, please, Lieutenant Bush.

Certainly.

Tomorrow afternoon, we should reach Kingston.

I haven't tightened up too much on sailing orders during the voyage.

So long as we could keep the three prize ships under surveillance.

But now that we'll be entering a British harbour,

some changes are called for a thing.

Are changes, sir?

Yes, Mr. Bush.

Can't have those Spanish vessels struggling along in any fashion.

Simply won't do.

Must keep at least a trim formation.

Understood, gentlemen.

Yes, sir, of course.

But may I respectfully suggest that, in this instance,

well, appearances aren't really as important.

Yes, sir.

But may I respectfully suggest that, in this instance,

well, appearances aren't really as important.

No, Mr. Orbla, you may not.

And listen, if you please, to my instructions.

Yes, sir.

Mitcherman Brown will replace Mr. Orbla,

temporarily a second lieutenant of the renown under Lieutenant Bush.

Mr. Orbla, this afternoon, well before night four,

you will transfer to the first of the private years, like Aditana.

Yes, from there, in consultation with the other prize crews,

you will please organize a more efficient disposition

bring all three into port in an orderly manner.

Sir, now be permitted to point out that, well,

we're already shorthanded aboard the renown.

I don't know why it is that certain officers

feel called upon to offer me advice when I don't ask it.

Very well, gentlemen.

That will be all I think for the moment.

That will be all I think for the moment.

No!

No!

That statement I almost believed myself.

Once aboard get it on, I set about hoisting signals so our other two prize crews pursuing

Buckland's instructions is best record.

As Bush told me his story later, I was able to piece together pretty clearly much of

what had happened aboard the Runaan in my absence.

It was a dark and lovely Caribbean night under bright stars when Bush completed his

last evening runs. He was dog tired and soon asleep.

The usual ship sounds did not disturb him in the least, but sometime after midnight,

Bush became suddenly awake. His ears told him that something was amiss.

There was a lot of cries. There was a lot of peeps on deck. A woman screamed.

When there was another rush of eat, Bush had left him his cot. Snatched his sword and

fist was in a blanket against the cabin bulkhead.

They were upon him in an instant and scrapped his sword blade before to tear it from that grip.

Struck widely as a pressing mob, kicked out of his bare feet at the attack.

Bush struggled to rally them. A few more of the crews were now on foot to his side.

Suddenly he found himself sprawled on the deck. He was stuck down. He was bathed in blood.

His own and out of others. His head swam. He was weak beyond belief.

And then the two mouths seemed to die away.

Bush, Bush, Bush, they've come from that there, swam his bride.

Who's come? I do believe it's the long blower, sir. With his bride, it's true.

That's all it is. All you're allowed and so can still walk. This way now we can drive him back.

This is Mr. Bush, sir. What? Here he is. They might never know him at the moment.

He's fair trampled, too. Yes. Bush. Bush, are you conscious?

Of course, Bush speaks to me. Bush! One blower. Did they?

Did they take the shabby? I'm not. I'm glad to say.

Thank God that you and a few others held him off too. We got there.

They never reached the quarter-deck. Where was Captain Buck?

Well, they took him prisoner while he was still there a bit.

Oh, he's alright. We released him as soon as we got the Spaniards under control.

Bush, Bush! Here, man, he's unconscious again now. Lift him gently now.

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Hello, Bush.

Welcome to some fresh food too soon.

First day?

Lemonade.

That's very thoughtful of you, Armler.

You know this. There's a very great dealer.

I'd like to say to you, Winnie.

In gratitude.

Left and right, what's Lemonade?

Bumper from Shaw has already been alongside.

Port some lemons for you, that's all.

I didn't mean Lemonade, you know.

Last night, though, this is no time for you to talk.

Are you feeling anyhow?

Movement not very easy, eh?

No, I should think no.

Drive tells me he had to close a lot of gashes in your body.

Oh, 50's for you. It's his home.

I arrived this spring.

I'm setting up like a crazy goat.

Well, that'll mean some mending up in base hospital ashore.

Not bad.

I have a feature quite well up there.

I'd rather envy you at the moment.

Things are going to be slightly difficult aboard.

Was I dreaming last night?

Oh, did you tell me that they'd taken Captain Buckland

to his bed?

Oh, it's true enough.

They bound him with his bedding, and he'll ever help us

throughout the battle for the ship.

I, of the West Park,

or she's his, his hand-dog looked this morning.

Poor old Buckland.

Oh, Captain, I sleep in bed.

I suppose you'll never live that down.

Will there be a court of inquiry?

Do you imagine it was bound to be?

You see, Bush, you are a lucky to be you.

Whatever happens, it's going to be embarrassing.

Own blower.

How the devil should those prisoners escape from?

Come in.

Oh, right, you, sir.

Nice to be able to stop in and see Mr. Bush.

Afternoon, Captain.

Good afternoon, Mr. Bush.

All right, just looking on you for a moment

before going ashore.

You were going ashore to make your reports?

Yes.

Well, it's, it's a beautiful afternoon, sir.

As far as I can charge you.

You do look most impressive, sir.

There's spotless white trousers and uniform coats.

And your sword?

Oh, yes, I've dressed with the utmost care.

And the finest I could find.

I've carefully prepared my reports.

And I wish to hear what I would get.

Oh, sir.

I don't say that, sir.

I wish I were.

Your gig's alongside, sir.

Three prizes are just anchoring as standard.

Thank you, Mr. Brown.

Nice to be off in a moment.

Hi, sir.

Yes, remember the Spanish prizes, Captain?

They'll bulk very large to the gold braid ashore.

Oh, well, I...

How in heaven's name did those Spanish maniacs escape?

Well, it must surely have been due to the...

Well, carelessness of the Marine Guardser.

Certainly it was well planned.

Perhaps none of the women...

Well, quite so themselves in exchange for a portrayal.

But they're seeming complacency.

Must have led some of our men to leave a hatch away, unfastened.

Yes, I...

We must institute an investigation at once.

Sergeant Billings has already reported, sir.

Quite certain, after much inquire, that two Marines were responsible.

And both of them died in the fighting last night.

Oh, well, at any rate, I want you, gentlemen, to know...

I've treated you well in these reports.

For instance, Mr. Hornblower, I've given you a full credit for what you did at Haiti.

And for boarding the ship when the prisoners rose.

Thank you, sir.

More than I deserve.

Well, I'll be off.

Good fortune to you, Mr. Bush, if you've been taken ashore before I'm back.

Oh, thank you, sir.

And...

Good luck to you, sir.

Well, ashore.

A man on his way to the gallows might look rather like that, don't you think, Bush?

Yes.

Well, get some sleep now, if you can, sir.

I'll attend to my other duties, and then we'll see that you get ashore.

Yes, sir.

After we'd piped Captain Buckland off, there was much else to be seen to,

while with, for the stretcher bearers from Kingston.

Meanwhile, up on deck, I asked Sergeant Clive about Bush.

Yes, Mr. Hornblower, his condition is rather serious.

Well, you didn't tell me that this morning.

You've grown feverish, and with so many wounds, both large and small, I fear infection.

Oh, well, he's not in such a bad shape as those three seamen who stood with him.

Don't worry, they've a really excellent naval hospital here, I have informed.

Ah, I do believe that's the hospital lighter now.

Am I mistaken?

I think your arm is second out there.

Dawson, stand by to receive those stretcher men from the boat coming alongside.

There should be stretchers for six men in all.

Here we are, Mr. Bush.

Sounds a bit blinding, isn't it?

Hornblower, I knew there was something I had to ask you.

What's that?

I kept coming back to bother me all morning.

When you recaptured the renom, that's not you.

Came all the way from the getty town.

Well, yes, naturally.

How did you know that anything was wrong, you were so far away?

Oh, I heard a couple of musket shots at first, and then I saw the renom come up into the wind,

and that seemed aimless and peculiar.

Oh, you collected all three prize crews together?

Was that his guess?

Well, the thing that puzzles me is to be more three of our seamen.

Would you afraid of losing the prizes, Hornblower?

They all carried prisoners aboard, better to lose the prizes than the renom, Bush.

Besides?

Besides what?

Well, I had every sheet and heliod cut in the prizes before we left them.

I took them so much time to read new ones that we had no trouble at all, retaking them.

Oh, so that was it.

And you had to retake them.

Yeah.

By the holy, you had a busy night all in all of this, rather.

In the book of the nomen, and what's those things?

I saw it.

All of us, steady ramen.

Pull for sure.

Goodbye, Hornblower.

Good luck and carry on.

Goodbye, Bush.

We'll be waiting for you here in the renom.

A ratio Hornblower, starring Michael Redgrave,

is based on the novels by C.S. Forester.

Music composed and conducted by Sydney Torch.

Produced by Harry Allen Towers.

Music composed and performed by C.S. Forester.

Music composed and performed by C.S. Forester.

Music composed and performed by C.S. Forester.

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