Horatio Hornblower - Hornblowers First Command

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Presenting Michael Redgrave as C.S. Faresters in Dominable Land of the Sea.

Horatio Hornblower.

I have been invited home at time for Christmas,

feeling a fivefold seedier still, of course,

for somehow, in following a French retreat from Rica, I had picked up one of those illnesses

which scourge armies on land.

I had quite a bit of it, in fact.

Then my old friend, Captain Bush, had brought me home aboard the Nonsert,

home to Smolvich, where the days passed quietly.

It was a really wonderful day.

But I began to want to see a old bush again.

So, not long after New Year's Day, we cooked him down for a mandarin for a winter weekend with us.

It was old times again.

Well, some port, what you say.

The wagons have left it, I'm dread to see.

You know, one night up in the Gulf of Rica, you seemed amused by a yarn of mine

from my midshipman days, Bush.

I never told her did I by my first independent command of what it led to in the way of

well, self-knowledge.

You know, extremely young men are rather sad to come and play down there as one grows older.

They're terrible to resolve that everything must turn out right to their monstrous earnestness.

Oh!

I haven't been so long aboard the Intifactical Bull. I'm the captain of the Ull.

I just come there as a corp-y midshipman, even though from the Justinian,

until reached a figure of the line, had made quite dazzle just then.

We were on patrol in the bay of Biskay, and we'd fallen on conroy of French merchant ships,

most opportune. The French men of war, which should have been escorting them for

press, or otherwise engaged that day, for our own police to attack the

miles further out in the Atlantic. As the unescorted merchantman, said towards

home, filled with a full revolutionary France, needed so desperately, Captain

Pellue, set out to capture them as many as he could.

Statshe, the crisis, one by one.

That French is too slurred to surrender, Lieutenant Mason. Give it a shot across her

bowels and the nine powders. Aye, sir.

Not into our whole confounded Mason. I didn't mean that man. Only meant

cripple her. Aye, sir. That last one was dangerous in nearer water life.

Got layers changed for the bay, far into our rigging. Ready?

Pull out!

Another one, sir? No, wait. Isn't that flag coming down?

Why, yes, I don't believe it is.

I time it did. That last shot had good elevation.

Ruined the slings at four tops of the yard. In the sailors' down.

All right, all right. Let's heat two close beside her.

How about broadside, ready, Mason? In case she tries some trick.

Give him a speaking trumpet.

Oh, hi there!

What break are you?

Margie Gallaud, of Bordeaux.

Twenty-four days out of New Orleans, in America, with rice.

Rice? That'll sell for a pretty penny, sir.

When we get our home to England, two hundred tons, I should imagine.

And twelve in our crew at most.

Huh. Yes.

You'll need a price crew of, uh, I'd say four, eh?

It's a midshipman's command.

Now, uh, let me see.

Mr. Hondur!

Yeah, wait. Don't want to go all the way over side.

Are you trying to knock us all breathless, huh?

Never mind. I'm going to doke. Get a feather weight.

Why, it's young horn blower. I thought the old man was sending gun at office, sir.

I suppose I was all, all that was left out.

Or, he'll see, easiest to spare at this point, Mr. Hondur.

Full for the French break, man.

All right, then. Thank you for managing. All right, Mr. Hondur.

That French girl's likely to be nasty.

I feel sure, sir, that I can.

Your first command, I suppose.

Well, well, yes.

Still, it is a command in a way, isn't it?

Even if it's such a short watch, huh?

I hope it will be a short watch.

A horn blower.

You never know when a prize ship and prisoners watch that French crew.

If you don't, they'll free-take the ship and have you had a French jail, everyone, you know it?

Wanting to sport you heading for.

Well, sir, I suppose whatever ports near it is.

We both gazed up at the French breakers and cut it through alongside.

Stuck by our fire, her four tops will be our dangle precariously

and the jib-hallear did slacked way off.

The sail was flapping loudly in the wind.

How many were you on, Hondur?

Well, the captain told me to take four of them and they'd better be chopping them then.

You have to get that jib in first, or you will be in a bad condition.

I see. Shall I pick four good men from you or from my crew?

They're very much obliged, if you would, sir. You know them better than I do.

All right.

Matthews.

I, sir.

Garson.

I, sir.

I, sir.

I, sir.

I, sir.

I, sir.

I, sir.

Keep them away from drinking. They'll be all right.

Well, here, well, then, Mr. Hondur.

Watch out when you spring up those main chains, not to wipe water in between the two vessels you'll notice.

They're Matthews. Give Mr. Hondur a hand.

On his other side.

Wait for it, sir.

Get ready.

Now, jump, sir.

I heard myself of all arms and legs like a leaping frog at the brig's main chains.

My knees slipped off, and the rolling brig alert made Thai deep into the boiling sea.

But one of the Siemens had preceded me.

He grabbed up my wrists and hauled me aboard.

A three-hour The Siemens followed us.

A little worse for where I led the way onto the deck.

Well, man, we'll recognize her a bit first.

Aye, aye, sir.

We'll be close in one day.

Don't worry.

Take care of yourself on blow-up.

Thank you, sir.

I will.

Don't see me in this signs of life aboard, I must say.

Matthews.

Men off, sir.

A little off of them, around that hatch cover, see?

Oh, yes.

Hand on my dirt.

I advanced slowly off.

Suddenly, something was raised towards the sky, but the heads of a crouching man.

I halted and looked again at.

It was an up-tilted wine bottle.

They'd broken open the wine stores,

were cheating their captors of their, at least, in this prompt and practical way as possible.

I couldn't really say I blame them much.

They've made the best of their time, sir. That's apparent.

One of the group is white hair blowing in the wind, rose to meters.

His lips seem to be shaping some pronouncement of importance,

searching earnestly for the right words to use.

To the devil, finish the English!

Put that bottle down.

I didn't need to remember Ross's warning.

If I didn't solve this situation instantly,

my boarding party would be at the wine along with this French crew,

and a frightening picture rose up in my mind,

a disabled ship drifting by the Bay of Biscay,

manned by a tipsy crew.

A quick show of authority was called up.

Put it down, dear, you hear me?

You understand, English?

If not, at least you can see that I'm armed, and here's my pistol.

Put that down!

He's a bad user. Good for you, sir.

Take these men followed, Matthews. You and two others.

Lock them up for somewhere below.

Aye, aye, sir.

My first command, such as it was,

and my first lesson in my loneliness at command,

brings to a man at sea.

And suddenly, ever, midst these plans,

a sickening thought struck through me.

I'm decked to find Hunter.

Hunter! Hunter, come here!

Yes, sir. Hunter, what is it, sir?

Look, it's occurred to me.

Nothing's been done to see if the bridge is taking any water.

You know, one of those shops we fired at a mayor of Hunter

below the waterline.

That's so, so we'd better sound the well.

Not a drop of water on the rod.

Dryers yesterday's panic in.

We can't keep the cautious at much longer, sir,

and the winds coming up very gusty like.

Oh, very good. Well, I'll, I'll be up Hunter.

Call all hands at once.

Aye, aye, sir.

I disguised my image.

I'll be right back.

I'll be up Hunter. Call all hands at once.

Aye, aye, sir.

I disguised my inner feelings as best I could,

but it was soon apparent with the wind nor delay

that we'd have to go about.

All hands, worship!

Aye, aye, sir!

With but four men to handle topsils,

and close hall the brig on the starboard deck,

the task took all that was left of the night.

By the time we brought her safely round,

all hope of an easy two days one had vanished.

True, we were heading away from the dangerous shores of France,

but we were also heading away from the French shores of England.

That French captain's been helping his head off, sir!

Insist, he's got to talk to you.

Important!

I'll release him, Hunter.

Bring him up to me.

My men, they are angrily, very angrily.

Sir, my men.

I also.

My Aussie.

I have a cook, good.

Well, perhaps we can arrange a truce then, captain.

If your men are not allowed on deck,

your cook to provide food for all of us,

will you agree to make no attempt to take the ship from us?

Well, that we shall talk later, sir.

There is another concern of more importance at this moment.

Well, she rides a little heavily.

Do you know what things are?

A heavily?

Well, yes.

Perhaps, but perhaps she leads.

Oh, no, no.

Oh, no, no.

Oh.

There's no water in there.

We've tested the well.

Tested the well?

But, more dear, you would find none in the well.

Do you not know how cargo?

Do you remiss?

Do you read?

What?

We are carrying a cargo of rice.

A cargo of rice?

What?

Well, yes, I recall now, but, but after all,

the rice from New Orleans, no leaf would be apparent in the well.

Rice would have far better drop of water in the hold.

Just, but one shot from your car said,

Frigate, struck us in the hull.

Did you not know?

Yes, well.

Hunter!

Hunter!

Hunter, that trot hit her, after all.

Where is she?

Well, I don't know yet.

It must be somewhere on the port side for her, though.

We're going to have a look.

You and Matthews put a burlin' round me and learn the way.

We're heating on this tack on.

I'll have a good view over the side.

The swaying of the bridge, the sea closed over my head.

But there it was.

Below the waterline, a splintered jagged hole.

He's so on there!

I'm so on why I close on notice to the deck scene forward there.

What?

It is opening.

What?

Hunter!

Hunter, look!

The pitch is even bouncing out of it.

And just beyond, sir.

See that other spot?

There's something awful wrong.

It's coming and ridges from the deck scene.

Or, too.

I have just thought.

Rice!

Rice!

The rice can't go.

Is that it?

It falls below.

What?

I've got well into it now, sir.

So it's swelling.

The rice that soaks will double.

Even treble it's volume.

This ship will burst wide open with this cargo arm.

Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear.

I remember the unnatural creeks and groans below

and I cursed myself for inexperience.

A black moment.

And if I hadn't spoken sharply, I'd have broken down in tears.

So don't we get that sail over that hole the better then?

Hunter, there are friends from our front.

I don't simply stand there standing.

Hi, I said.

I said the ship was hiding in the lake.

She's lower in the water already.

It was silent, sir.

One crisis after another.

I have to think.

I'll hear what that sail would hear me then.

Sir, I don't like the look of it.

Straight out, I don't.

She's settling down and up and not below as well as on deck.

That rice is pushing her apart in every sea.

Well, Matthews, I...

Look, he's there, sir.

Even that batten down hatch covers pushing upwards.

See?

Well, I...

I'll...

Cheterson and the cargo, then, Matthews.

Get some prismas together and we'll start.

Hunter!

Hi, sir.

Take off your men off that sail.

Work, open the hatches and bring up the cargo fast.

They all worked with a wheel, even the prismas.

And as they lifted off the hatch covers, brown forms.

Shot out the abruptly, rice bags, forced upwards,

but the pressure of others below.

Bag by bag, the rice was hauled up from the hold and cast overboard.

Sometimes the bag split, spewing rice in every direction.

It was fantastic.

And finally, the lower bags, wetter and more swollen, jammed the hatch with.

Even the tackles weren't swayed them up now.

Is that it, Hunter?

Great, sir, sir.

But we've relieved quite a bit our will say, sir.

And the sail's ready.

Good.

Keep the rice party working to see if they can get rid of more cargo.

Our lines roll through the grommets of the sail.

Oh, yes, sir.

Our square feet of sailage followed.

Oh, put your other men to that, then.

Work the sail under the hull and drag it off to the hole.

I said, begging your pardon, sir, what are you doing?

Oh, I'm undressing.

I want to see it properly in place.

And this time I'll go over without any clothes on.

Hunter, get a Berlin ready for me.

Fall is men.

Make it and wet.

I lost a lot of skin.

The ship was rolling most of this time.

But I managed to see the fathered sail in place against the hull.

A hairy mass sucked in instantly into position.

The hull seemed fairly plugged in.

And they hold me up.

Well, sir?

They got a few more bags out of the old while you was gone.

Good.

I met Hunter on that ship, can I?

Hunter, hand me that shirt, will you?

Yeah.

She's riding better now.

You noticed, don't you, sir?

Yes, and the wind's improving.

We'll lay her on our original course, Hunter.

Nor he's spying on us.

Hi, sir.

Well, Bush, another glass of port.

Thank you, Horatio.

But go on, please.

Well, I was limped with lack of sleep, with cold and exhaustion

and accumulated burdens.

You know, I'd started with the highest of results.

And now, badly dampened.

At least I'd earned some lessons in that 24-hour span.

And for the moment, all seemed well enough with ship and men.

And as we ploughed heavily along, I even felt a tiny glow of pride.

I'm earned or not.

I squared my shoulders and I took my stand there on the poop,

straddling with my hands behind my back.

I was still in command of my ship, Bush, such as she was.

And despite the grinning fates and all my worries,

she was heading home to England on a course I'd actually laid off myself.

Yes, very young and earnest men.

They are a bit sad, you know.

Yes, they do.

Well, Bush, finished your port?

Yes.

Well, mustn't keep my lady wife waiting, must we?

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Horatio Hornblower, starring Michael Redgrave,

is based on the novels of C.S. Forester,

music composed and conducted by Sydney Torch,

produced by Harry Allen Towers.

Music

Music

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