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Call all hands.
Beat the quarters.
Mount up the guns.
Stand by the starboard battery.
One broadside into it, if you please, Captain Bush.
Pointers on target.
Blind stops ready.
Eye eyes all ready.
Fire!
Fire! Presenting Michael Redgrave as C.S. Forrester's indomitable man of the sea, Horatio Hornblower.
THE END.
Many years have passed since that terrible day when the probability of death and defeat stared me in the face. But I can close my eyes even now and feel again that exhaustion and faintness that I dared not let any man see. It was a nightmare pause in a nightmare battle.
Two partially disabled ships drifting rapidly apart, and each with no purpose than to patch its wounds and return to destroy the other.
I can see the nativity again. Now the score's cleared, sir.
How does she bear?
About two points on the starboard beam, sir. Ah, there. She's hope, too. Looks a bit lopsided without her foremost. Hmm.
She seems to have made no attempt as yet to rig a new one. Well, as soon as we can carry some sail off, so that we can beat the wind over the inhabitants at our mercy... We must try and do it before nightfall, Mr.
Bush, or we may lose her altogether in the dark.
And now what's this?
It's the funeral party, sir. Oh.
They're already going out there.
How many? Fourteen, sir.
Very well. Mr.
Bush, have all hands stop work, but remain where they are.
I intend no disrespect to the dead.
But this ceremony must be swift or the living may be endangered.
Aye, aye, sir. We therefore commit their bodies to the deep.
I think we checked the leaks now, sir. The sail is bothered under the bottom and seems to be holding. I've been able to release all but 20 men from the pumps. Sure, and everything ready now for hoisting the mast?
All ready, sir. Right. Now, Mr. Bush, it is important that nobody should haul or carry out any movement except by orders.
I shall try to use the pitching of the ship to help in the raising of the mast.
And if any man acts without my orders, I'll have him flogged. Aye, aye, sir.
Hands to the wingless. Mr.
Gellar, attend to those swings. Aye, aye, sir.
Mr.
Galbraith, into the mission cage.
Aye, sir.
Never do it.
The ropes will slip off the mast head. If it jerks away from that stump, it'll sweep the dick of the broadside.
You trust the old man. He knows what he's doing, old man. Oh, I hope he does.
Where'd you go, there? Hoist away, there.
Easy.
A fast hoisting.
There. There. See that?
Clever the old man is. As the boughs went up, so he ups the mast a bit. Then when the boughs dropped, he lays off. Oh, nice timing, that is. He better not make no mistakes, though. He won't make no mistakes. I've never seen him make one. Oh, don't he look tired, don't he?
Yeah, water. Indeed, by the time the long and dangerous struggle with the mast was over and it stood vertical at last, while the men fished it firmly to the stump of the old mizzen, I was sick with weariness. I'd been on my quarterdeck for over eight hours with neither rest nor food. Through the stress and labor of the battle... I was beginning to find it difficult to concentrate upon anything, so that Bush.
Had spoken twice before I could force myself to listen.
I said, sir, that it's a magnificent piece of work, if you'll allow me to.
Say so, sir.
Shall I set up the topmost and yards now, sir?
I fear it'll be useless to attempt to carry any canvas in this wind and streams to Bush, and the tributary.
Is barely in sight now. Just a smudge on the horizon, sir. Aye. There's not much chance of renewing the action till the wind takes off a bit. Yes, I cannot imagine the Admiralty accepting that statement in a report. But it's true enough, sir. We're badly knocked about and the weather's too rough to carry on the fight.
Nevertheless, the report will be received with pitying smiles, Mr.
Bush.
The excuse is too old.
Like the uncharted rock which always causes a wreck. The Admiral is 10,000 miles away, and they can't judge the strength of this storm from there. If even though I should be accused of cowardice, there's nothing I can do until the weather moderates it. No, sir, there's not. But in that case, sir, why not take a rest? You look mortally tired, sir. Indeed you do. Let me send and have a burst screened off for you in the wardroom.
It'll stick, Mr.
Bush.
You who need a rest, dismiss the starboard watch and go below and turn in.
While the enemy is in sight, I shall stay on deck. But, sir, I think... I gave you an order, Mr.
Bush.
Aye, aye, sir. Good fellow, Bush, but a fool. A sentimental fool. He'd treat me like an old woman if I'd let him. I wonder how Lady Barbara is getting on.
Oh, confounded.
Here's that idiot of a steward. Now, can't anybody leave me alone? Well, Paul Will, what do you want? Well, I've been to attend to the lady, sir. I've screened off a bit of the Orlop for her, sir. The Orlop? But the wounded are in there. Well, they're mostly quiet now, sir. Well, I couldn't leave her in the cable tier. I've spun the hammock for her. She nicked into it like a.
Bird, sir.
Took a bit of grub, too, in her. Glass of wine, she did.
Very good.
Well, now, it stands to reason, sir... A frigate in the sea like this and a battle like what we've had is... Well, it's a bit rough on an high-born lady.
Just confine yourself to facts and keep your opinions to yourself, Paul Wheel. The high-born lady joined this ship of her own free will, knowing that she was about to go into action.
Aye, aye, sir. Now, about you, sir. Here's some dry clothes and a chest in the storeroom. I'm afraid the last broadside dumped everything in your cabin. I don't want any dry clothes. Of course you don't, sir. I wouldn't suggest it, except in.
Well, if it takes cold, sir, you won't be fit when they catch us up within the pivot deck. Will you change up here, sir, or come below?
Now, now, look. If I just lash this here hammock chair to the rail, sir, you could sit there when you've changed and have this biscuit and rum, couldn't you, sir? And this here boat cloaker will keep some of the spray off you. And you won't have to leave the deck. Pongwheel, are you.
Presuming to give me orders? Orders, sir?
Me? Me?
I hope someone knows my place, sir.
It's all right, Mr.
Bush, sir.
You can turn in now. Captain's in his chair and sleeping like a baby, sir.
Good heavens, I must have dozed off.
What time is it, I wonder?
Yes.
Impossible.
It's after midnight. As black as the Earl of Hell's riding boots.
Hmm.
Feels to me as though the weather's improving. Let's have a look at the vehicle.
Ah, Mr.
Bush.
Wind's shifting southerly and moderated, sir. Wish there was a bit of starlight even. I can't see a thing. The Dividad might be 20 miles away or only 200 yards. Yes, I doubt she's close. She was going away to lure it rapidly when we lost her. She can't have carried out all the repairs she'll need in this weather. What do you think she'll do, sir?
That fellow Crespo commands her as no fool. I believe he'll try to avoid us until he can get into the Gulf of Fonseca and refit. He'd like us to follow him into the Gulf so he'd have the advantage of the shore batteries as well. But he can't make much sail in his crippled condition, sir. But even if he could, the wind is wrong for getting to the gulf.
I had observed that fact, Mr. Bush.
I believe he'll reach far out to sea and cross southwards as far as he can. I shall return to.
My chair until daylight and attempt to work out what is likely to be his position at dawn.
Aye, aye, sir.
Morning, sir.
The sea is going down fast, sir, and the wind's taken off. Some will be up in ten minutes.
Yes, we'll make sail if you please, Mr. Bush. Here is the course you are to sail. But as I gave the course, I knew that it was sheer guesswork. Every yard I sailed might be away from the Tertibidad while she hurried to safety. My heart was heavy.
With misgiving, for I knew that if I had failed, there would be many who would attribute that failure to incompetence or cowardice. As the sun lifted over the horizon, I paced the quarterdeck with every appearance of unconcern, determined not to allow anyone to guess at the doubts and fears which tormented me. When the light should be sufficient for the masthead lookout to scan the horizon, I might be justified or ruined. Yet even my resolution to remain calm must have wavered when my gloomy thoughts.
Were pierced by a wild cry from aloft.
No!
We found her, sir. We found her. You are right again, sir. Look, sir. You can see her from here with the glass. Dead ahead. Ah, she's coming round, sir. She's running away.
Yes, Crespo wishes to postpone action. He prefers discretion to heroics, and quite rightly, Mr. Bush.
However.
Set every stitch we can carry. Send the hands to breakfast. If we engage, there's no telling when they'll eat again, if ever. Aye, aye, sir.
Hands to breakfast. We're gaining, sir. She'll not get away this time. We'll blow her right out of the water.
Never underestimate your opponent, Mr. Bush. Those 24 pounds of hers are heavy metal.
We have a ship which is leaking like a sieve. Has a makeshift rig and is 64 men short. And our firing force is far inferior to hers. You think the wind's going to hold, sir? Seems to me as if the sun's swallowing it. Oh, it's getting mighty hot, too. It'll be just our luck to lose the wind now. I can't trim it anymore.
Hi, you at the wheel.
I hear a small blast here. I can't, sir, begging your pardon. There ain't enough wind.
Javis, he's right. The wind's gone, sir. And look at that sky. It's like brass. But in a dead calm and well out of range. We will tow with the boat. Have the launch and cutter hoisted out.
Boats away!
Cutter's crew! Launcher's crew!
Now then, men.
You've got a hard task, but it must be done. You've got to pull. Pull till your muscles crack and your hands burst.
Now get your clothes off and pull naked.
I'll have you relieved in an hour.
Now! Pull!
All together and get.
Away!
Look at that, Mr.
Gerald.
That puffer stroke from the TV dad. Yes, he carried two long 18s a half. We're going to run the gauntlet of those for the next hour. That was nearer. About 50 yards of our starboard quarter.
Mr. Gerrard, ask Mr. Marsh to see what he can do with the long mine on our fo'c'sle.
Aye, sir. I know it's not much use, but don't cheer the men to feel that we're replying.
Aye, sir. Please, ready and waiting. Very good, Mr. Marsh.
Show them some shooting. Stand by, gun crew.
Give me the radio.
You can't relate to son of a.
Very good. Try again.
Here comes some more bullets. Ah, that one got us just above the waterline.
Followed. Oh, well done, Mr.
Marsh.
Right alongside her.
Hello.
What's she up to now, sir? About to put her bows round.
Yes, Mr.
Bush. We shall now have 25 guns trained on us instead of two.
She's positioning for a broadside.
We shall have some pebbles about our ears, eh, long lads?
Let's show them that Englishmen don't care.
There are no shooting. Not more than two hits. Mr. Galbraith. Let that main gullet stay spliced directly.
Aye, sir. Mr.
Bush, at what distance would you say she is now? Oh, three parts of a mile, I should say, sir.
So I think. I fear our carronades will not be effective at that distance. Relieve the boat's screws and see if fresh men can pull us nearer.
Aye, aye, sir.
It was intolerably hot.
The smell of pitch from the deck seams, the bitter tang of powder and the smell of the blood from the wounded... combined with my fatigue and anxiety to make me feel deathly sick.
I feared to disgrace myself by being sick in front of the men. They, too, no longer joked at the guns. They were beginning to sulk at the punishment.
It was a bad sign. Sullivan!
Sullivan!
Sir, here's Sullivan.
You're your fiddle? Aye, sir, I have that. Well, we'll have a hornpipe. Benskin, Hall, McAvoy.
A hornpipe from each of you and a guinea for.
The man who does his.
Best.
On my words, Mr. Gerald, this will be a tale told and retold in years to come. How Captain Hornblower had his ship towed into action with hornpipes being doused on her main deck. The launch is sunset. A shot smashed into pieces. Pick our survivors up quickly.
The sea is full of sharks.
Starboard the helm. 400 yards.
400 yards.
Now, Mr.
Gerrard, we shall begin to swing round.
You may open fire first as your guns bear.
Thank you, sir.
Talk your luck, sir. Take your aim.
The lads, hundreds of them.
Sir, Captain Hornblower, sir, Mr.
Howell sent me. Yes, well?
Starboard side chain pump knocked all to pieces.
Well, my boy?
Well, he's rigging another one, sir, but it'll be an hour before it works. He told me to tell you the water's gaining a little, sir.
Very well.
Please, sir. There was 14 men all knocked to smash at the pump. Horrible, sir. I see one man, sir.
It's him. Hello, boy.
Come back to Mr. Howell and tell him Captain is sure that he will do his best. Oh, I see. There's too much smoke to see properly, but it's my belief we've hit her hard, sir. Confirm this smoke. It's like being in a fog.
Ah, crystal. What is it?
I think I can feel a very light air blowing inside. Yes, I believe there is. Ah, look at that. Look. The smoke's blowing away, sir. Oh. Just look at the certificate.
Oh, she's a wreck. The dirty oven's not standing. Rigging all round her like a net. And look at that great hole in her side. There's three gun ports platted into one there.
She's low in the water, but she's still fighting, by heaven.
We'll be on her soon. The closer we are, the quicker we'll finish it.
And stand by for the tail borders. Robert, get an ace load with great shots. Look, look at them crows down there, folks. They're going to try and board us. Well, here they come. Terrorists, fire!
Weapons cleaned. A thousand musket balls smacked into us.
She's finished.
There's no crew left.
She's firing.
The curse for her hallway.
Will they surrender? Never! I seek some distinction in this! You must surrender! You've done all that brave men can do!
Cast fire, you fool!
You sit on fire! Surrender while you can! Never!
Man's mad, Mr.
Bush.
We must call off or we shall cast fire, too.
Fan the blazes, sir! By heaven, sir! Look at those flames! He's fired on himself!
I think not, Mr.
Bush.
It was our guns at Point Blank Range. He'll burn my car.
She's sinking! She's going down! She's gone, by heaven. Vanished as though she'd never been.
You will join me in a salute to a very gallant enemy, Mr.
Bush.
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 END
