1953-07-03 0050 Adventures of Horatio Hornblower the Yellow Fever

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Call all hands.

Speak to quarters.

Unload the guns.

Stand by the starboard battery. One broadside into it, if you please, Captain Bush.

Pointers on target.

Lint stops ready.

Eye eyes all ready.

Fire! Fire!

Presenting Michael Redgrave as C.S.

Forrester's indomitable man of the sea, Horatio Hornblower.

Music THE END.

Now that I'm much older than I was then, I look back on myself in those days with amazement.

The island of Haiti was beautiful.

A paradise of blue water and green hills. Parrots and cockatoos flashed brightly all around us.

But I gave them no heed.

Standing on the ramparts of that captured fort, my whole attention was centered on the telescope which Lieutenant Bush held tight to his eye. I yearned to have a chance at it myself. But he was my superior. A man can't thrust himself forward, even at such a time as that.

Lieutenant Bush.

Yes?

If you're not using the telescope, sir.

Yes?

Oh, yes.

Much good it does. Anything? No. What are the Spaniards across the channel? They can make out no activity, sir. Who's in command there, Hornblower? You speak their lingo? Our prisoners have told you? The captain, a general is named... Dylan Waver. Second in command, Colonel Ortega. Oh, a fine kettle of fish. The don's holding one side of the entrance to the bay and we the other. What do we do now? Captain Buckland ought to be here. He's the one to say. Yes, sir. Eh? Oh, yes. Don't say very much, does he? Well, I... Oh, I know what's in your mind as well as mine. He's silly, shall he?

Sir?

Yes?

There's a sale. It's the renown, sir.

How soon will she make the channel? Well, it's heavy going, apparently, sir. I... I'd say a matter of two hours, possibly.

Lecter and Bush, sir.

Mr.

Davies sends his compliments.

He says the Spanish vessels up there in the bay are growing busier than ants round a honeypot.

The merchantmen?

Hornblower.

This way, sir. We can get a clearer view from over here, sir. He's right.

They're going to try to slip past us. Once clear, they'll scatter like sheep.

Oh, why doesn't Captain Buckland get here?

THE END.

Lively there. Run out those cannons.

Loads of them ready, sir.

Spanish guns, but they'll serve. Make certain they do, Mr.

Davey.

They'll range across the channel.

Aye, sir. Almost to the other fort. Not quite.

Ah, just as well they can't. Just the dung and we will be battering each other to bits.

Sir.

Old blower, what are you doing here?

Sir.

Your orders were to keep an eye on the shipping. Yes, sir. I detailed Midshipman Brown.

Sir.

Do you think we could use hot shot? Hot shot?

Heat the cannonballs red hot. Start fires aboard the Spaniards. Too much more damage that way, don't you think, sir?

Well, we'll be fortunate to hit them at all as it is. Well, that's it, exactly. Heat them red hot, eh? Yes, sir. Well, it was never done at sea.

Well, it's too much risk at sea, sir. Wooden ships, there's a risk of setting yourself on fire. But there's the furnace for it. The dons make it a custom, do you see, sir? Uh, special metal baskets to carry the ball in and transfer.

It to the guns.

Hornblower, have you any idea how to load hot trucks? Well, if one such cannonball touched the powder, we'll all be blown sky high.

Well, we could use wet wads as well as dry wads, sir. Done it before? Well, no, sir, never. Lift it at all, Blower, sir. What is it, Dawson? Midshipman Brown sent you? Aye, sir. He says to tell you one of them vessels is up to anchor. She's heading for the channel now. Oh. Lieutenant Bush. Please, sir, let's try. There's time. Very well, Hornblower.

Tell half a detail to keep the cannonballs, will you, please? Number four and number six gone over, Mr.

Davy. Number three is short.

Swab out the guns.

Out of the way!

Wet wads.

Out of the way! Out of the way!

Out of the way! Oh, that's not good. No, Mr. Hornblower, something's got amiss.

Number four gun.

Number four gun, what's this cannonball doing on the ground? It won't fret in the muzzle, sir. Oh, nonsense. Why shouldn't it fit?

There's another. Same thing that happened with number four, sir.

Hornblower. It's all my fault, sir. It's those cursed cannonballs. They're overheated. Overheated? They're too long in the furnace. They've lost their shape. They won't fit the ball. Belay any more firing. It's no use, sir. I'm sorry, Lieutenant Bush. Oh, are you now? Yes, I overreached myself. Oh, maybe not.

Why?

What do you mean? Well, stop looking at the guns and you'll see for yourself. See for.

Spaniard!

His last headway is swung around across the channel. Look, is that smoke? It is. He's on fire, sir. Aye, that is. There go the sails. Yes, and the others have turned back. They're afraid to venture the channel. Red-hot cannonballs.

I shall report this to Captain Buckland. And by the speed they're returning, I shall think they'll be here in under an hour.

Yes, yes, yes.

Very good, Mr. Bush. Another of young Hornblower's bright schemes.

I understand.

Quite. Sir, I only made mention of him. And proper that you did.

But a man can become a bit tired of... Oh, well, never mind. My commendations, Hornblower.

Thank you, sir. What's that? It's not one of ours, sir.

No. Spanish bugle.

But the Lord Harry, if it's an attack... Quickly, outside. We must see. Oh, on the parapet there.

An attack?

No, sir. What is it, then? What is it? Well, I'll be damned. A small boat. Aye, sir.

Coming over from the Spanish side. Use them as bugles so we won't open fire on them.

And why not, Mr. Davies?

Sir, if you please.

They're flying a white flag. They must want to parley. I suppose they do.

Oh, very well, Mr.

Hornblower. You speak Spanish. Take an escort and meet whoever it is outside the fort. Aye, sir.

If you must fetch him in, be certain he's blindfolded. I've no wish to... have the Dons know all about us. You bring an offer of surrender, sir?

Surrender?

My terms are unconditional surrender.

Sir, you mistake me. Surrender, yes, but of us? No. I'm here to accept your surrender.

Our surrender?

Colonel, I've no time for... It is not a jest, sir. Nonsense, all the same. Look about you, Colonel.

You said yourself, two days ago this fortress was yours, and now it's ours.

See, the fortunes of war. Exactly. It's in our hands. Your shipping is bottled up.

Sir, if the captain will permit, you are not used to this climate, are you?

What's that to do with your request? A great deal.

Believe me, one must be accustomed to this climate to stay alive, you know.

What are you driving at?

I speak of the dreaded Vomito Negro.

What's that? Vomito Negro.

The.

Oh, how do you say? Lieutenant, if you would be so good, my English fails me.

Well, Hornblower.

Sir, Colonel Ortega means yellow fever. Yellow fever? Yes, sir. Vomito Negro.

The colonel says they are used to the climate, but we are not.

Yellow fever, he says. He says it's bound to strike us.

Seem most certain. A most dangerous illness. There is much here among the natives. The Captain General Villanueva suggests that you abandon this fortress at once.

We shall make no attempt to stop your withdrawal.

But believe me, Captain, if you stay within a very short time, you will all die of yellow fever.

Even now, so many years later, I can close my eyes and see it before me again.

High noon on that fabulous island. There was no wind.

The Spanish flag across the bay hung idle on the flagstaff just as ours did.

Colonel Ortega had long since returned across the water.

Nothing moved except the birds, the black butcher birds wheeling above us.

The brilliant cockatoos and parrots.

And even they, like us, seem to be panting under the heat. The tremendous noonday heat of the tropics.

What in the world are you doing?

Well, that lot of men are over beyond the parapet. Well, it looks like one of them has gone berserk. Well, we'd best get over there. No, I won't risk it.

Let go of me.

Don't at least stop your mouth. Here, what's going on? Yellow fever.

That's what must strike us if we stay.

Yellow fever. Silence.

Silence.

Mr. Davy, you should have quieted him before I found it necessary to do so myself. Have him put under guard. Aye, sir.

Mr. Hornblower, sir.

Yes?

Is it true what he said? Yellow fever?

There's no sign of yellow fever.

The men say that Spanish colonel said it's bound to hit us, sir. They say.

Never mind what they say. You've been given an order, Mr. Davy. Aye, sir.

Pettis! Turnbuckle! Take his arms and legs. Lively now.

Up with it! A lawn blower. How did they find out? Rumor like that will lead to panic. How did they find out? How do they always find out? Mr. Bush, this might be serious. Do you think we should inform the captain?

I stood by as the captain and Lieutenant Bush talked it over. Their faces grave and worried. Something had to be done. To withdraw would mean defeat.

More than defeat. Disgrace.

From the narrow barred window that overlooked the bay, I could see the Spanish vessels at anchor. We were on the tip of a narrow peninsula that jutted out to form one horn.

Of the bay.

The ships were far back at the base of the headland.

Now, if there were only... Well, it's perfectly clear to me what we have to do. I know, sir, but if there are... Captain Buckland... Hornblower, pray do not interrupt. No, but, sir, I... If you please, Mr.

Hornblower. Yes, sir.

Bush, I'm afraid we're done. Now that the men are aware, there's no hope for us. No, sir.

We'll have to do as the Spaniards have told us. Will you please make the appropriate signal to them? We shall embark for the Renown... Captain Buckingham... The warblower!

Well, what is it now? We could move a gun over land.

A gun?

Yes, sir. Oh, not one of these from the fort. Oh, I should hope not. Twenty-four pounders. Two and a half tons each. Garrison carriages.

Practically immovable.

But we could use one from the Renown, sir. One of those long nine pounders we've got mounted as bow chasers. They have a range near as good as these.

You wait a bit. The Renown's up here with us.

The Spanish missiles.

Are far in the rear of the bay. And a good four miles. Sir, we needn't drag it from here. Sir, if I may.

Look, I hold up my thumb and forefinger. Now, the bay is the space in between. We're here, out where the thumbnail is. No need to tell me what I know full well. A good four miles, sir. But if the renown sails round the headland... Around the thumbnail, is that it, Homelander?

Sway it up to the top of the cliff and across the base of the thumb. I mean the land, you know. And we have the Don's ships under fire, sir. We'd be firing.

I see, yes.

A question of whether it'll do any good. They need those ships, sir. If they see they're going to be destroyed, they'd be frightened. They'd rather surrender to us than be marooned on this island at the mercy of the natives.

Possible. Yes, it's more than possible, sir. It could be done. Hornblower, don't overreach yourself. Yes, sir. Turn the tables, eh? A gun on the headlamp.

Mr.

Bush, do you think it might succeed? I suggest we try it, sir.

We had to wait till dark so the Spaniards wouldn't guess what we were up to.

The day seemed endless. But finally night came.

The sudden black, deep night of the tropics. Lieutenant Bush was left in command of the captured fortress. The Renan picked up a vagrant breeze and silently we slipped round the headland until we reached the proper spot.

Oh, one more point, sir. One of the men was in a panic this morning. Donnelly, I believe. Yes, sir. I understand you took him with you. Well, I meant a particular point of it, sir. You see, he's ashore with Davey now. But why him? The man's in a panic.

Well, I thought it best to keep him active, sir. He'd be much too busy to be concerned about yellow fever then, sir.

Oh, I see.

Oh, well, off you go, Hornblower.

Good fortune.

It needed more than good fortune. In the darkness, it was hard, cruel work. With slings and ropes, we swayed the gun up from the launch and manhandled it over towards the bay. There were swarms of gnats and mosquitoes, and every sound in the thick, heavy growth around us made us wary of natives and savage beasts.

But we saw none. By dawn, the gun was in position, and we waited. Seven bells, sir. Yes, so it is. They've no idea we're above them, sir. They shall soon enough. You've sighted that gun yourself, Dawson. Sir, if the first.

Shot don't hit that vessel square, you can flog me a good dozen at the main mast.

Well, I believe we can open fire, Mr.

Davy.

Aye, sir.

Open fire!

Check the target, Mr. Davy.

Silence there!

It's a midship, sir.

Yes, square on board. Proceed, Mr.

Davey.

Nine more rounds.

Aye. The gun crew sweated as they fired. The sound of the shots echoed off the hills. But it was more than an echo below us. On board the Spanish vessels, men struggled fantastically to sever anchor cables and get out of range.

The ship on which our gun.

Bore became a smoking wreck, a mess of cordage and shattered timbers.

The firing went on... Six.

Seven.

Mr. Davy, what in the devil was that?

The gun's unbushed, sir.

Unbushed? Aye, sir.

The plug ran the touch hole. The powder blast unseated it.

Yes, yes, I see it. Can't fire another round with that.

Shall we jettison the gun, sir, and retire back to the ocean side? No. But we haven't got another plug.

Mr. Davies, the fort expects us to fire ten rounds. Those were Captain Buckland's orders. Ten rounds, and all we've done is... Mr. Holmbra, sir! Oh, you're Donnelly, huh? I have a spare plug with me, sir. I can get it fitted in with a.

Bit of time.

Good man. You can?

Yes, sir.

No more worry about yellow fever then, eh, Donnelly? No, sir. Only about the gun now, sir. Get it, sir. It may take a little while. I'll have to find it out.

THE END.

Hold your fire!

Why, Lieutenant Bush.

Hold your fire. Captain Buckland's compliments.

I should have volunteered to run four miles at that pace.

What is it, Mr. Bush? I don't understand it. Don't you, Hornblower? It worked. What? The Spaniards have capitulated.

No sooner had you opened up than Ortega came flying across the channel.

You should have seen his bumboat. No Spaniards ever use their oars so fast. Aye, capitulation. They'll abandon the fort and blow it up. We'll take them as prisoners to Jamaica. There's not enough room aboard the Renan. Oh, said the Renan.

We'll use their own craft as prison ships.

The ships are included? Oh, don't look so surprised, Thornblower. Your idea to begin with, wasn't it?

Aye.

The three to the left. Prizes a war.

Prizes? We'll get prize money.

Mr.

Davies.

Mr. Davies, take care of that gun. It must be back aboard the Renown before sunset.

Aye, sir. It worked.

I was... No, no.

I had my doubts, too. May I say? Yes, what? Well, I... I'd like to say I've been envious of you before now.

Oh, poor.

If you're superior, I... Well, I resent it. I can resent you no longer. You're brilliant and I'm not, and that's the way it is.

You deserve every.

Credit and I'll not grudge it. Hornblower, may I call you Horatio? I'd like to be your friend.

Why, I'm flattered. I don't know what to say. I... Mr. Bush, do you realize I don't even know your first name?

Horatio Hornblower, starring Michael Redgrave, is based on the novels by C.S.

Forrester.

Music composed and conducted by Sidney Torch. Produced by Harry Allen Towers.

The Lone Ranger.

1953-07-03 0050 Adventures of Horatio Hornblower the Yellow Fever

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