Amazingly, this installment begins with an author’s note — O’Brian reassures us that, when describing the two real-world frigate actions into which he has placed his fictional characters, he has kept strictly to the facts of each action, as recounted by contemporary resources. Here is a quick precis of these actions — both of which are much later in the book: https://www.ctbasses.com/misc/BruceTrinque/aubrey2.html
Chapter one, however, begins by wafting the poor old Leopard into the bay of Pulo Batang, with a very vivid description of her condition and of the crew. She has sails patched with heavy-weather canvas alternating with stuff so thin “…it scarcely checked the brilliant light.” Her crew is too sparse to be Royal Navy, she has no guns, and the officers on deck are shabby, ragged guys in their shirtsleeves. You can tell she was once a 4th rate 50 gun ship — the Nelson chequer hasn’t faded entirely — but only the pennant and a dingy ensign on the mizzen peak marks her as a member of His Majesty’s navy.
The Leopard has only a single carronade to salute the flagship– her salute is answered by the “…deep, full-throated reply…”, and Jack is called aboard. There is one hitch. The wombat:
Many thanks to Nina Lorence-Ganong at Deviant Art for this lovely sketch of Stephen’s wombat committing hat-desecration. I like wombats. They’re adorable, even when eating ones hat:
We still love Steve Irwin. Best wombat cuddler ever!
Despite their shabbiness, the captain’s bargemen are still dressed appropriately — matching Guernsey frocks and white sennit hats. I looked it up. Sennit is another term for ‘straw’ The little clinker-built jolly boat which must pass for a barge right now is similarly made gorgeous by sanding and holystoning “…to a state of unearthly luster….”, as are the decks of the otherwise down-at-heel shabbiness that is the Leopard:
holystoned in the foreground, un-holystoned behinda varnished hata sennit hat.
The next few pages are a god-send for those of us who may have forgotten the denouement of the previous book — Jack’s interview with the Admiral adds some much-needed information: 1. the Admiral doesn’t think much of Americans 2. the admiral knew Louisa Wogan, probably pretty well, and is embarrassed to learn that she may have been an enemy agent 3. Jack is doing his best to protect that sorry excuse for an officer, Grant, who insisted on abandoning ship and, apparently, made it safely to the Cape. 4. Jack saw the American whaler to windward barely 2 days out from Botany Bay, but was ‘advised’ (more on that later) not to give chase, in case of an international incident 5. Jack’s command of the Leopard is at an end — if she can be fixed, she’s only good as a transport, and Jack is to return to England aboard La Fleche as soon as she arrives from Bombay and take command of the Acasta, and 6. Sophie’s letter, along with books and hand-knitted stockings, have finally, finally, caught up to him. I love that drawn-out moment of recognition — Jack really does love his wife.
Jack also values his ‘followers’ — the officers who often began as midshipment under his command, and members of the crew like Killick and Bonden who have a personal attachment to a captain and follow him from command to command. The port Admiral wants to commandeer these guys, and Jack fights tooth and nail for them all. He gets them.
Meanwhile, Stephen is conferring with the Admiral’s political adviser, a discreet, “…subfusc person in a snuff-coloured coat…” who is happy to see Stephen, even if the first word’s out of the doctor’s mouth are “‘How is your penis?”. And thus we see what depths may be plumbed by British intelligence back during the early 19th century. And these are depth which, I am sure, are still being inhabited today. An interesting addenda to explore may be found here: https://militaryhistorynow.com/2022/07/28/before-mi6-the-secret-history-of-british-intelligence/
Stephen and Wallis’ confab yields several interesting developments: 1. Louisa Wogan’s poisoned information (poisoned by Stephen himself and delivered via Brazil as well as the Cape and directly to her in the falsified documents transcribed by Herapath before their escape) has paid off — the American organization has been revealed to Sir Joseph, the French organization is undergoing “….a pretty holocaust…”, and Stephen himself gives Wallis the penultimate gift — the name of the French/American mole in the Foreign Office, and 2. The ‘advice’ Stephen gave to Jack about letting the American whaler pass involved a threat to hang himself “…from the mainyard-spritsail-gubbins if he did not desist…” It’s the best of all possible outcomes, and Stephen is to return to England ASAP on La Fleche and resume operations in Catalonia.
With the burden of his information relieved, Stephen is free to meet back up with Jack, with an attempt to see cassowaries on the way, as well as a desire to see ‘…the fabled upas tree…”. Unfortunately for him, the cassowaries are secretive and British sailors are noisy, and so they retreat “…further into the shade, pursing their beaks.” They’ve already been described as “…intent as hens, only 5 feet high…” They have to be the world’s most outrageous bird:
Also unfortunately for Stephen, La Fleche is expected almost immediately, and he’s certainly put out at the thought of not having any time at all to botanize and naturalize in Java. But the end of this chapter is pure comedy. The Admiral has bet 100 pounds on a game of cricket between ships, and the Leopard’s crew must have a go at that. Jack talks Stephen into it — though we are not sure as to whether Stephen knows exactly what type of ball game he’s going to play. He refers to the bat as a hurley — and this is an entirely different game than cricket, believe me.
The game is a hoot. The Cumberlands know that Stephen doesn’t play cricket. However, he DOES know hurling: he checks the ball, dribbles it, then “…raced on with twinkling steps to mid-off, there checked his run amidst the start silent amazement, flicked the ball into his hand, tossed it high, and with a screech drove it straight at Jack’s wicket, shattering the near stump and sending the upper half in a long, graceful trajectory that reached the ground just as the first of La Fleche’s guns, saluting the flag, echoed across the field.
Press Gang 
FORTUNE OF WAR — CHAPTER ONE
Amazingly, this installment begins with an author’s note — O’Brian reassures us that, when describing the two real-world frigate actions into which he has placed his fictional characters, he has kept strictly to the facts of each action, as recounted by contemporary resources. Here is a quick precis of these actions — both of which are much later in the book: https://www.ctbasses.com/misc/BruceTrinque/aubrey2.html
Chapter one, however, begins by wafting the poor old Leopard into the bay of Pulo Batang, with a very vivid description of her condition and of the crew. She has sails patched with heavy-weather canvas alternating with stuff so thin “…it scarcely checked the brilliant light.” Her crew is too sparse to be Royal Navy, she has no guns, and the officers on deck are shabby, ragged guys in their shirtsleeves. You can tell she was once a 4th rate 50 gun ship — the Nelson chequer hasn’t faded entirely — but only the pennant and a dingy ensign on the mizzen peak marks her as a member of His Majesty’s navy.
The Leopard has only a single carronade to salute the flagship– her salute is answered by the “…deep, full-throated reply…”, and Jack is called aboard. There is one hitch. The wombat:
Many thanks to Nina Lorence-Ganong at Deviant Art for this lovely sketch of Stephen’s wombat committing hat-desecration. I like wombats. They’re adorable, even when eating ones hat:
We still love Steve Irwin. Best wombat cuddler ever!
Despite their shabbiness, the captain’s bargemen are still dressed appropriately — matching Guernsey frocks and white sennit hats. I looked it up. Sennit is another term for ‘straw’ The little clinker-built jolly boat which must pass for a barge right now is similarly made gorgeous by sanding and holystoning “…to a state of unearthly luster….”, as are the decks of the otherwise down-at-heel shabbiness that is the Leopard:
The next few pages are a god-send for those of us who may have forgotten the denouement of the previous book — Jack’s interview with the Admiral adds some much-needed information: 1. the Admiral doesn’t think much of Americans 2. the admiral knew Louisa Wogan, probably pretty well, and is embarrassed to learn that she may have been an enemy agent 3. Jack is doing his best to protect that sorry excuse for an officer, Grant, who insisted on abandoning ship and, apparently, made it safely to the Cape. 4. Jack saw the American whaler to windward barely 2 days out from Botany Bay, but was ‘advised’ (more on that later) not to give chase, in case of an international incident 5. Jack’s command of the Leopard is at an end — if she can be fixed, she’s only good as a transport, and Jack is to return to England aboard La Fleche as soon as she arrives from Bombay and take command of the Acasta, and 6. Sophie’s letter, along with books and hand-knitted stockings, have finally, finally, caught up to him. I love that drawn-out moment of recognition — Jack really does love his wife.
Jack also values his ‘followers’ — the officers who often began as midshipment under his command, and members of the crew like Killick and Bonden who have a personal attachment to a captain and follow him from command to command. The port Admiral wants to commandeer these guys, and Jack fights tooth and nail for them all. He gets them.
Meanwhile, Stephen is conferring with the Admiral’s political adviser, a discreet, “…subfusc person in a snuff-coloured coat…” who is happy to see Stephen, even if the first word’s out of the doctor’s mouth are “‘How is your penis?”. And thus we see what depths may be plumbed by British intelligence back during the early 19th century. And these are depth which, I am sure, are still being inhabited today. An interesting addenda to explore may be found here: https://militaryhistorynow.com/2022/07/28/before-mi6-the-secret-history-of-british-intelligence/
Stephen and Wallis’ confab yields several interesting developments: 1. Louisa Wogan’s poisoned information (poisoned by Stephen himself and delivered via Brazil as well as the Cape and directly to her in the falsified documents transcribed by Herapath before their escape) has paid off — the American organization has been revealed to Sir Joseph, the French organization is undergoing “….a pretty holocaust…”, and Stephen himself gives Wallis the penultimate gift — the name of the French/American mole in the Foreign Office, and 2. The ‘advice’ Stephen gave to Jack about letting the American whaler pass involved a threat to hang himself “…from the mainyard-spritsail-gubbins if he did not desist…” It’s the best of all possible outcomes, and Stephen is to return to England ASAP on La Fleche and resume operations in Catalonia.
With the burden of his information relieved, Stephen is free to meet back up with Jack, with an attempt to see cassowaries on the way, as well as a desire to see ‘…the fabled upas tree…”. Unfortunately for him, the cassowaries are secretive and British sailors are noisy, and so they retreat “…further into the shade, pursing their beaks.” They’ve already been described as “…intent as hens, only 5 feet high…” They have to be the world’s most outrageous bird:
Antiaris toxicaria, on the other hand, deserves a bit more than just a mention as being ‘fabled’. Here’s a bit from an 1858 Scientific American: https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/the-upas-tree-1858-07-31/ as well as a well-written short article from naturespoisons.com: https://naturespoisons.com/2019/07/17/antiarin-upas-tree-antiaris-toxicaria/
Also unfortunately for Stephen, La Fleche is expected almost immediately, and he’s certainly put out at the thought of not having any time at all to botanize and naturalize in Java. But the end of this chapter is pure comedy. The Admiral has bet 100 pounds on a game of cricket between ships, and the Leopard’s crew must have a go at that. Jack talks Stephen into it — though we are not sure as to whether Stephen knows exactly what type of ball game he’s going to play. He refers to the bat as a hurley — and this is an entirely different game than cricket, believe me.
The game is a hoot. The Cumberlands know that Stephen doesn’t play cricket. However, he DOES know hurling: he checks the ball, dribbles it, then “…raced on with twinkling steps to mid-off, there checked his run amidst the start silent amazement, flicked the ball into his hand, tossed it high, and with a screech drove it straight at Jack’s wicket, shattering the near stump and sending the upper half in a long, graceful trajectory that reached the ground just as the first of La Fleche’s guns, saluting the flag, echoed across the field.
hor hor hor…..
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About spectioneer
reader, would-be sailor, writer.