hornblower fic: no turning back
TITLE: No Turning Back
WORD COUNT: 9500 words
RATING: G
CHARACTERS: William Bush, Edward Pellew
SPOILERS: Lord Hornblower
DISCLAIMER: Hornblower belongs to CS Forester.
NOTES: Many thanks thehappyreturn for beta and some invaluable advice, and many thanks also to black_hound for help on sailing matters!
It was a bright and clear November morning and a fair wind was blowing from the North East. The mid-channel squadron, under the temporary command of Vice-Admiral Sir Edward Pellew, was cruising under easy sail in the Channel in the Bay of the Seine making around 3 to 4 knots. Having performed a series of manoeuvres to the satisfaction of the Admiral, the five ships of the line, four frigates and three sloops in the squadron turned their helms around to sail with the wind one point abaft the beam. They made for an impressive sight; skyscrapers of cloth and wood and twine thrusting their fragile forms into the heavens.
In the great cabin of one of these ships sat her short, stocky captain who was in the middle of writing a letter in a small tight script. He was in his late forties with pepper grey hair and a pair of brilliant blue eyes. His open shirt showed evidence of battles fought and won and unlike his fellow officers he wore a pair of trousers instead of breeches and stockings; one of the few concessions to his present condition he had allowed himself. The captain’s figure and manner possessed the natural authority of a commander who handled a ship skilfully with the instinct of one born and bred to the sea. A man who would bravely lead his men into any action, spill his blood with the rest of them and sacrifice his life in the protection of others and the perusal of his duty. A knock on the door of the great cabin heralded the arrival of the ship’s first lieutenant. “Sir, the Admiral has signalled to desire the immediate presence of yourself and Captain Howard aboard the flagship."
Surprise, confusion and anxiety flashed through the captain’s eyes for a moment as he considered the order.
"Affirm, Mr Hill," he ordered gruffly. "Have my barge prepared and tell Redmond to lay out my dress coat. I shall be finished presently."
The door closed and a sudden stillness descended. The captain sat unmoving in his chair and briefly contemplated the shadows cast by the rising sun. Exhaling slightly, his legs twitched as he turned to finish the letter.
My dears, I must now take my leave for I have jut been ordered to the Admiral but for what purpose I do not know. He has been extremely testy ever since Heathcote failed to cut of the rear of the Toulon fleet to bring to a general action. I hope the prize money I have sent you all have helped in some way to relieve the situation at home. As for myself, I shall write again before we depart to take up our stations outside Toulon once more.
Until then, I am forever &etc
Your loving brother William
***
When Captain William Bush ascended the side of the Caledonia, he was warmly greeted by the ship's captain and taken down into the Admiral's quarters on the upper gun deck.
"Ah Captain Bush sir!" cried Pellew when Bush was shown into the Admiral’s day cabin. "Come in! Come in! I dare say you know Captain Howard sir!"
"Yes sir. Thank you sir." Bush reached out and shook both officers' hands. "I hope I find you both well."
"Yes, Mr Bush. Tolerably so," replied the Admiral huffily but his eyes sparkled with an energy that belied his age.
"Now gentlemen, we have a pretty situation here. I have received a request from an old friend of mine. Commodore Hornblower, as you know, is back on active duty and has just recently prevented one of our ships from falling into the hands of the dastardly French! Now, given the mood and inclination in certain quarters of Le Havre, he has decided to enter the city and claim it for the King. The Commodore has asked for assistance and I have decided to detach your ships from the squadron to join him."
Bush was most pleasantly surprised and he smiled inwardly at the thought of serving under Hornblower once more. When he had last seen Sir Horatio, it had not been under the most pleasant nor happiest of circumstances. Having brought the squadron home, Bush had left almost immediately for the Mediterranean without any knowledge of whether Hornblower had survived or not. Bush was not a fanciful man. Nor was he a man to give in to sentiment and brooding, yet it was impossible that he wouldn't have picked up something from serving under a man who spent many hours in solitary contemplation. Many hours on endless blockade had been spent in agonized wakefulness as Bush pondered on a world without Horatio Hornblower, on what would become of Lady Barbara and little Richard. So it had been a great relief to hear of Hornblower's recovery and return to England. However-"
"... and I expect your firsts to see to the marines. For I trust, Captains," said Admiral Pellew, "That you will both do me the honour of dining aboard the Caledonia before you weigh anchor for Le Havre."
Bush and Howard bowed politely, assured the Admiral that it is they who would be honoured, and gracefully accepted the invitation.
***
Dinner was a splendid affair, as can be expected in the flagship of one of the most respected and lauded Admirals in the Royal Navy. Bush had always been a man of modest means, and even after obtaining command of Nonsuch he had always dined in simplicity. But Pellew had always had a reputation in the service for providing a fine, often extravagant, table as well as decent wines as one may find these days. Now, even though the invitation only extended to the Caledonia's officers, the food and champagne present was fit for a gathering of admirals.
Conversation centered on the Marquess of Wellington's successes in Spain and his steady advance across the Pyrenees, the Prussian Army's successes and the American War. It was felt by all present that the War had not long to run and it was soon back to England and half-pay for most of them. Bush shuddered slightly at the memory of the previous period of peace. Painful enough was the impoverished conditions he was forced to endure. But even that could not compare with the hollowness in his heart every time a ship unslipped her moorings and sailed into the sunset while he wasted away ashore. But his future, it seems, now lay in France.
As if the cabin had detected Bush's train of thoughts, the discussion now turned to praise of Hornblower's actions against the mutineers, a ploy Bush was convinced few other officers could have dreamed up, much less execute to the level of perfection his former captain had done. But Hornblower had always been one to think of original ideas that confounded the enemy as well as accomplish improbable feats of navigation. Yet Hornblower had always believed and attributed many of his successes to luck or to the enemy's incompetence.
Bush looked up from his contemplation and turned his attention back to the officers around the table who were all enveloped in drunken gaiety and chatter. Almost all, for the Admiral was studying Bush with a keen eye. Nonplussed, Bush met Pellew's eyes as the Admiral leaned forward slightly and said in a low voice, "Captain Bush, I would like to see you briefly before you leave."
***
"How do you feel, sir?"
Bush looked up from his claret in confusion. The Admiral was staring out the stern windows looking at the wake of the Caledonia with a thoughtful, abstracted air. t was strange that Pellew had requested to see him, most peculiar indeed. Bush shifted his uneven weight slightly to better accommodate the roll of the cabin, and asked: "I'm sorry sir. I'm not sure I understood your question."
"About the Commodore's return to active duty, Mr Bush."
"I-I- think no one else could have settled the problem on the Flame better than Commodore Hornblower, sir. However-"
"Yes?" snapped Pellew, turning suddenly to face Bush. In that instance, Bush saw the unguarded emotion in the Admiral's eyes and wondered, not for the first time, what it would have been like to serve under the great Sir Edward during his glory days as a frigate captain, as Hornblower had done. Images of Hornblower and Sir Edward on the quarterdeck of the Indefatigable on a stormy January morning formed in the forefront of Bush's mind, to be replaced with memories of an azure sky, a wide horizon and the Lydia running joyfully over a rolling sea.
Swallowing slightly, Bush looked his admiral in the eye and said: "Well sir, to tell you the truth, sir, I am a little concerned about the Commodore’s health. If the situation aboard the Flame had not arisen, I do not believe he should have returned so soon to command, for I know he often overexerts himself, sir."
A pause, and the Admiral bowed his head slightly. "You speak my thoughts exactly, Captain Bush. You must have deduced by now, Captain, that it was no mere coincidence that I chose you to assist Commodore Hornblower in Le Havre?"
"The thought had crossed my mind, sir, and I am grateful for your consideration."
"Consideration be damned! Both of us, Mr Bush, have a common regard for Hornblower. He was the most promising young officer to have served under me, Mr Bush, and I often consider him as one of my own. You sir, have a friend in Hornblower, and unless I'm very much mistaken not many people can call him that. Why your experiences! Your experiences would have brought any brother officers together. As such, Captain, it is natural for an Admiral to want not only an extremely capable officer to assist in a most delicate operation, but a friend who would have the trust and confidence of the officer in charge."
Bush was astounded. Pellew was well known for his directness of manner but he had never seen his Commander in Chief speak so forwardly. Nevertheless Bush’s bright blue eyes sparkled as he assured Pellew that he would do his utmost to help Hornblower. As he did so, the Admiral smiled broadly and extended his hand for Bush to shake with the utmost warmth and sincerity. “I have every confidence in your ability, Captain Bush. I judge men by what I see them do, and your accomplishments in the Mediterranean do you every credit. I wish you every success in Le Havre. God speed you on your way sir!
***
When Bush was piped down the sides of the Caledonia a few minutes later, he was in a gay mood and even managed to reject his Coxswain's predictable offer of assistance with a cheerful "Damn you!" As the barge began to pull away, Bush turned to gaze one last time at Hornblower’s old mentor and Captain standing upon the quarterdeck. As the boat got under weigh, the Admiral tipped his hat in its direction. Smiling, Bush set his eyes upon the dear old Nonsuch and marveled at the light that shone through her sails, giving her a glorious, heavenly appearance. There was no turning back.
Author's Note: I have taken some liberties with Pellew's command during the year 1813. Sir Edward Pellew was commander in chief of the Mediterranean during the period 1811-1814, and again between 1815 and 1816. During the months that the events of this part of Lord Hornblower had taken place in, he would have been either at Toulon blockading the French fleet, or at Mahon for the winter. So I've thought of the best possible scenario to fit in with Forester's canon, that is, Pellew leaving the Med to his second in command Sir Sidney Smith, and taking up temporary command in the Channel.