Horatio Hornblower - Rejoining The Fleet

Call our hands, beat the quarters.

Hello, Tigger. Stand by, let's tell them what better.

One broadside, in order to please Captain Bush.

Point of them, target.

Windstuff ready.

I am ready! Fire!

Presenting Michael Redgrave as C.S. Farsters in Domino Man of the Sea, Horatio Hornblower.

Presenting Michael Redgrave as C.S. Farsters.

Presenting Michael Redgrave as C.S. Farsters in Domino Man of the Sea, Horatio Hornblower.

It may seem absurd now that I still dreaded to return to England.

But in spite of my present years and honours, I'm under no illusions as to the fickle nature of the public.

And neither was I then.

Whatever it occurred since, there was no gain saying the fact that I had lost my ship, the suppolend in battle,

and that I should be called to account for it.

If the court marshal should decide that I was at fault, his grace, or even death, might await me.

My thoughts were as somber as the grey door on the Butman as I paced the deck of the Witch of Endor

and the coast of France fell away over the horizon.

Come to the horrid, what color is that?

At the sound of the English voice, words failed me for a moment.

At least there was no need now to hide in the mist.

On the other hand it brought nearer all the future which I was dreading.

I said what color is red?

Well, I'd fly my colors to the last.

If my career was to end, it would end with a joke.

In particular, Majesty's arms, cattle, witch of Endor.

Catch him, Horatio Hornblur.

What's the matter?

Come on, arms!

Actions are coming for me!

What did you say that everyone?

You must think we're mad, Sir, the Witch of Endor has been a French prize for a year.

And you've been dead for six months?

How long are you there?

How long do I need?

You think so long?

Hello, Mr. Bush.

Easier in under the stern of that two decker and bring it to the wind under the leaf.

As the boat bore me to the triumph side and I stared at the familiar beauty of a ship of war again.

The two yellow streaks along their sides, checkered with gunports.

Appendent of the main, the hands on her deck, the red coat of the Marines.

As I heard the distant voice of a burst in roaring of the seaman,

all the familiar sights and sands of the navy in which I had grown up,

I was hard put to it to restrain my emotion.

This was indeed the end of my long captivity and flight.

Hardy was there on deck, his huge bulk towering over everybody.

I saw his expression all turn.

Good God!

It is Hornblower.

Welcome back. Give me a hand, sir.

How did you come here, sir?

How did you take the witch?

How did I come back from the grave?

Is that what you want to ask, Lowe?

It's a long story.

How are you?

Better come under my cabin, Hornblower.

It must be a pretty difficult time for you.

Didn't you know Lincoln was killed?

No.

Don't worry about me.

I've heard nothing for months.

She died of his wounds at the boat.

Oh, I see.

Have you heard anything of my wife?

Well, I remember reading that she was awarded a civilist pension

by the government when the news of your death arrived.

No other news had it.

There was a child on the way.

Oh, none that I know of.

But then I've been four months on this ship.

I wouldn't hear anything.

Over the horizon, Lowe was appearing a long line of ships,

close hold.

They were in rigid, regular line.

And as we watched, they went about in succession.

In perfect order, as if changed together.

The channel Fleet was a drill.

18 years of drill at sea had given them unquestioned superiority

over any other fleet in the world.

Victory is in the van.

Yeah.

Take my glass.

Jingle midshipman.

You'll start.

Jingle triumphs to flagship.

Have on board Captain Horatio Hornblower.

While Hardy dictated his message, I looked through the glass.

A sweet echo with her admiral's flag of the main

was leading the long line of ships.

The broad stripes on her side,

listening in the sunlight.

She'd been jobless as flagship at St Vincent.

Holdings in the Mediterranean.

And Nelson's at St Deppelgaard.

No, she was dismal, Jimmy's.

And fatigued, if ever there was one.

Signal hoist was soaring up her yard arm.

Hardy was busy dictating replies.

Admiral signalling for you to go aboard.

I trust you'll do me the honor of making use of my barge ratio.

The time's barge was pented.

Primrose yellow picked out with black.

And so were her ore blades.

Her crew wore Primrose colored jumpers with black neckplots.

As I took my seat, I reflected gloomily in.

That I'd never been able to afford to dress my barge

as crew in a fancy regard.

Hardy must be a wealthy man, I suppose,

with his travel guard prize money and his pension

as Colonel of Marines.

I could not help contrasting our positions.

He abandoned it wealthy, famous.

Myself poor and distinguished.

And a waiting trial.

Please, resign!

Welcome aboard, Captain Honda.

I'm Calendar, captain of the fleet.

His lordship gave instructions for you

to be shown to his cabin.

Will you come this way?

Thank you.

I don't suppose you remember me,

but I was first left in it on the Amazon

when you were in the Interfaticable.

On the contrary, I remember you very well.

In fact, I was a certain boat,

but still at portness.

Oh, you remember that, do you?

Well, I'd only been first for a week then,

and I had to throw him away to button somebody.

Over here is his lordship cabin.

Thank you.

Will you make us all come to home while I tell him you're here?

Lord Gambier's cabin was not nearly so ornate

as hard as it'd been.

The most conspicuous item was the big brass band Bible

on the table.

I sat down on a cushioned locker

and stared gloomily out of the stern window.

The next hour I might easily decide my whole fatal.

And pardon me, sir.

I am the admiral's clerk.

Yes.

He's lordship who receives your report shortly.

In the meantime.

Well?

What's such a hiding my hundred back?

On the freight set that I have bad news for you.

What news?

Well, come along, man, out with it.

I thought I had an odd expression on his face,

and although I spoke up boldly enough, my heart sank.

Was it possible that my case had already been pre-judged?

Was I to be arrested, tried, condemned, shot?

I remembered having seen this paragraph in the morning.

Chronicle of three months ago, sir.

I shouted to his lordship and captain calendar.

As they decided it ought to be shown to you as early as possible.

Well?

His lordship said.

Well, give me the paper.

What is the paragraph?

On the freight, it's very bad news, sir.

What's coming, blaster?

Let me see it.

The lord give it, sir, and the lord take it away.

Blessed be the name of the lord.

We regret to announce the death in child bed,

on the seventh of this month of Mrs. Maria Hondler.

Whether of the late captain Horatio Hondler,

Bernaparte's martin victim.

The tragedy occurred in Mrs. Hondler's lodgings at South Seat,

and we're given to understand that the child, the fine boys, help him.

His lordship instructed me, sir, to inform you of his sympathy.

He will not expect your report yet, and he thought you might wish to seek

the consolation of religion in your cabin.

Yes.

The lord give it, sir, and the adult.

Get out!

Get out!

In the actual battle of Rosas, my lord,

before I surrendered the Sutherland,

one hundred and seventeen of my ship's company were killed,

and one hundred and forty-five wounded.

Forty-four of the latter died before I was taken to Rosas.

A tragically high proportioned captain.

Good God, more than half your crew out of action before you surrendered.

If you remember, my lord, Thompson and Indiana,

in the last ninety-two out of the three hundred of Crete,

and everyone said what a gallant defense he made.

I was aware of it.

But please go on, captain.

Well, I told how I'd witnessed the destruction of the French squadron,

how Coyard had arrived to take me to Paris, and about escape.

I made but slight mention of the corn to the grass,

and a voyage down the Lois.

But I went into some detail about the capture of the Witch of Endor.

As I pointed out, a knowledge of harbour arrangements that not,

and the navigation difficulties of the Lois,

might be of great future value.

Good God, man!

How can you be so cold-blooded about it,

once you've...

Captain Talender, I have requested you before,

not to allow you to the deity,

and that blasphemous fashion.

Any repetition will incur my serious dispeasure.

No, let me see. That cutter will be useful.

She couldn't carry the dispatches,

and I should not have to weaken the main body of the fleet.

This deterrent of yours, Bush, I'll promote him into harvest commander.

I gave a gasp of pleasure.

Promotion to commander meant almost certain post-rank within the year.

Bush deserved it, of course, but Admiral's usually had some favourites,

some nephew, or old friend's son, awaiting the first vacancy.

But that was by no means all.

Promotion of my lieutenant to commander was a high compliment to me.

It set the seal of official approval on my actions.

This decision of campers was a public announcement that I had acted correctly.

Thank you, Lord, thank you.

I hope you will continue to be my guest until I sail for Potsmouth next week.

It would be best, I think.

Yes, Lord, thank you.

But however delicate the illusion,

I knew that the last remark was a reminder of my position,

and that I was technically under arrest.

I all established custom, I must be under the supervision of an officer of equal rank while under arrest.

There could be no question of being sent home in the witch of Endor.

Come in.

Bush!

Bush, by all means wonderful company.

The man sent that here.

Let me take those puzzles.

By heaven, it's good to see your honest old face again, Bush.

Look, have a drink.

Have you been getting on?

Well, what have you been doing? Did you?

It's very easy, sir, easy.

I'll tell you about it, sir.

First of all, this is the first chance I've had to thank you for my promotion, sir.

Oh, don't thank me. You must thank Lord Gambia.

I know, I owe it to all the same.

They're going to post me as captain this week.

They won't give me a ship, not with this wooden liquor mine,

but there's a job at Sheerness waiting for me.

I'd never been a captain, but for you, sir.

Oh, rubbish.

Well, how are you?

How are you?

Oh, fine, sir. Thanks, sir.

You?

Oh, there.

I was...

I was sorry to hear about Mrs. Hornblower, sir.

Yes.

I took the liberty of bringing out your letters.

Oh, thank you.

The package is a sword, I'm sure, sir.

Oh, well, let's open it and see.

Well...

By heaven's...

Oh, Bush.

I never expected to see this again.

I know that ghost gathered anywhere, sir.

It's the hundred-gainish sword that the patriotic fund gave you

for your defeat of the divi-dad in a specific...

Yes.

Ah, you should see the newspapers.

Your famous serve.

So you ought to be.

And there's plenty more news.

Oh, what news, Bush?

There's a witch of indoors, sir.

Oh, yes, what about it?

The navy body yesterday at the price court.

All thousand pounds was the price, sir.

I was greatly impressed by the tact

with which Bush allowed me to assimilate all this.

I would not have expected such delicacy

from the tough old campaigner.

But I was already beginning to realize

that I still had much to learn about people.

The first dozen letters were from people unknown to me,

but all congratulatory.

Two were from Madman, a parent-living,

and two more from peers.

Then...

I saw letter in the hand which was known to me.

And my heart constricted as I stared at the envelope.

It was from Lady Barbara.

Bush, on the ship,

on the portsmiths and all the present world,

spun and vanished to the side of the letter.

I was not reading.

I was listening again to that dear modulated voice,

which I had not heard for so many, many weirdy months.

It is hard for me to write this letter.

So overwhelmed, am I, with pleasure and surprise,

at hearing that you are free and well?

I hasten to let you know that I have your son here

in my care.

My son, Barbara, has him.

Oh God bless her.

When he was left orphaned,

I ventured to take charge of him

and make myself responsible for his upbringing.

While my brothers,

lords, wealthy and wellington,

consented to act as his godfather

that his baptism,

where at he was consequently given the names

of Richard, Arthur, Horatio.

Richard, Arthur, Horatio,

and wellington and wellington behind him.

Well, the boy's fortunes already made.

Richard is a fine, healthy boy,

with a wonderful resemblance to his father,

and he has already greatly endeared himself to me.

Let me assure you that I shall look upon it

as a pleasure to continue to have charge of Richard

until the time comes for you to take him away.

I can easily guess that you will be much occupied

with affairs on your arrival in England,

but you will be very welcome,

should you care to call here to see your son,

who grows in intelligence every day.

After this moment, I'd hardly thought about the child.

My paternal instincts had not been touched by a child

I had never seen,

and besides,

they were warped by memories of the little Horatio,

who had died of smallpox in my arms,

so many years ago.

But now, I felt a sudden wave of affection

for the unknown little chap who had managed

to endear himself to Barbara in London.

Why Barbara had taken him?

Was it because we dodened childless,

she had sought for a convenient orphan to adopt him?

Was it that she still cherished memories

and kept in hauntler,

whom at the time she believed to be dead?

Time stood still while I stared at the letter and wondered.

Bush was saying something.

I tore myself back to the present with an effort.

Sorry to interrupt, sir.

Yes, sir.

They questioned me at White Hall,

and I thought you ought to know,

but they calling me an evidence of the court marshal, sir.

The court marshal?

For a few wonderful moments,

I've forgotten that threat hanging over my life.

The court marshal.

If that were to go against me,

not all the sons or lords and ladies in Christendom

could help me.

It was more than my life at stake.

It was my reputation, my honor, my whole future.

Horatio 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.

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