I took it quite the opposite, there not being much charity in evidence generally and because men of such education and expertise as Stephen having come from backgrounds of privilage. He’d also mentioned his predicament.
I, too, took it as a polite fiction on Aubrey’s part. Stephen’s reaction seems to indicate that this was an unexpected procedure.
Regarding epaulettes: I am reminded of Hornblower and the Hotspur, where Hornblower is instantly recognisable in the blockading fleet at Brest by virtue of he being the only officer with a single epaulette.
I have to say I’m fast developing an interest in captains of RN ships-of-the-line at Trafalgar. It’s difficult to find one who didn’t start from a similar position as young Babbington and who wasn’t commanding a hugely complicated craft by his mid 20s.
Can’t help but think any of them would give Jean-Luc Picard a run for his money!
I’ve lately embarked upon my third or fourth sojourn through the series. Each time the jargon becomes a bit easier to understand, but being the hopeless landlubber that I am, I still have a difficult time understanding the finer points of tacking, wearing, luffing up, etc. Not to worry, though. I may miss out on some aspects of the action, but it doesn’t diminish the story. O’Brian has, in fact, become something of a guilty pleasure for me of late. His writing is one of my primary distractions from all of the other things I should be doing at any given time.
When I worked at the library, and first saw a copy of Master and Commander, but I digress, one of my patrons claimed to have written to C. S. Forestor, asking about manuvers in one of the novels. He said he received diagrams of wind and sail in the action described. That would be cool, and certainly should appear in The Annotated Patrick O’Brian. 
I’ve done enough sailing that I should be able to follow it, but frankly it’s damn hard work mapping out and keeping in your head all the locations and manouevres etc while still trying to just enjoy the yarn. So I’ve given up.
Were cannon balls always solid iron (or solid whatever they’re made of)? What kind of noise did they make as they traveled? Were the balls ever filled with gunpowder?
I’m still waiting for the movie in the mail, but tonight we caught a few minutes Gangs of New York. The gangs were being fired upon from a ship in the harbor. There was a sound like a jet flying overhead, and it looked like the cannon balls were exploding on impact. Is that realistic at all?
This Wikipedia article says that explosive shells fired from mortars were used in Europe starting in the middle 1500’s, and explosive shells fired from cannon by 1823, so they were available.
Throught out the timeframe of the Aubrey/Maturin novels normal cannonballs are solid iron.
There are such beasts as gunpowder filled balls, but these are normally referred to as ‘bombs’ not cannonballs and are fired from mortars, not the regular cannons. They further would generally only be carried by specific bomb ships, which mount the mortars in special housings in the centre of the ship, rather than being arrayed along the sides like the normal cannon batteries.
The reason they can do this is the bombs were lobbed at the enemies in a ballistic arc, rather than the direct fire of cannons. The other problem was the only timing device was a physical fuse, which had to burn out before the bomb exploded, the only way to adjust that explosion time was to physically trim the fuse. There are many stories (including a few second hand accounts in the novels I believe) of a bomb landing on the deck of a ship, but the fuse being extinguished prior to it exploding. I’m not sure when Gangs of New York is set, but during the Aubrey/Maturin timeframe definitely no ‘exploding on impact’.
I understand that bombs were therefore mainly used in shore bombardments, or by shore installations. Imagine the difficulty of aiming a bomb fired on a ballistic tractegory from your ship which is likely heeling and skipping about in the ocean at another ship trying to avoid your fire and also being tossed about on the ocean, now you not only have to hit that target, but correctly estimate how long it will take the bomb to get there so that you can appropiately trim the fuse! Not an easy job.
Just to add the novel series ‘technically’ only runs to 1815 or so, prior to the shells to be fired from cannons were invented, and well before (according to that wiki article) they were adopted by the navies from 1840 on.
Of course O’Brian plays fast and loose with chronology in the series, especially after book 6 through to about book 18 or so. But the end books in the series is definitely around 1815 or so.
I am trying to remember a phrase. Can someone help me out?
Whenever Jack receives orders from the admiralty, he is to “proceed with all due XXX to YYY where he will ZZZZ”. What is XXX?
I have been racking my brains but I keep coming up with ‘all deliberate speed’ but I know that’s wrong.
despatch, still used in commercial maritime circles now
The credits for Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World list (IIRC) an artillery regiment as the source of the cannon fire sound effects, so I daresay that what you hear in the movie is as accurate as possible. There’s a fairly distinct whooshing sound that contains both low and high tones – kind of a high whistle combined with a bass groan. I distinctly recall when I saw the movie in the theater that the advantages of modern cinematic sound equipment were put to great effect. Even with your eyes closed, you could follow the path of the cannon ball as it sped past you, moving right to left, or back to front.
Jack Aubrey is based, in part, on Lord Thomas Cochrane. Master and Commander, in particular, is basically a novelization of Cochrane’s adventures aboard a sloop called the Speedy–including such details as pretending to be a Dutch trader to fool a Spanish frigate, and later the doctor holding the helm while every man-jack boarded and captured the frigate.
The actual character of Aubrey is very different from Cochrane, who was evidently a very witty but proud and prickly man, not at all like Jack. In one of the later books Maturin notes in his diary something along the lines of “I see much less of Cochrane in Jack these days.”
One example of Cochrane’s wit occurred when he was recruiting volunteers for his first post-ship position. Jack, in that position, relied on posters drawn up by the impoverished writer. Cochrane’s poster said he was looking for “men who could run a mile carrying a sack of Spanish gold,” which I thought was a nice touch.
After Master and Commander, the incidents in Jack’s life do not match Cochrane’s much at all, up to the book Reverse of the Medal, which is also closely based on an incident from Cochrane’s life. In the book Jack is clearly innocent of the fraud in question. Cochrane always claimed that he was innocent, but some researchers have evidently concluded that he was probably guilty of rigging the stock market. In any case, like Jack, Cochrane was dismissed from the service but eventually reinstated.
One of Cochrane’s midshipmen went on to become a best-selling novelist himself, and modeled his heroic captains on Cochrane, so his life has been grist for the novelist’s mill for a long time indeed.
Excellent! Thank you. I wanted to steal the phrase for a blog about my own nautical adventures.
“The bombs bursting in air, gave proof through the night, that our flag was still there.”
I believe there was also something of an unspoken gentleman’s agreement not to use explosive shell against ships for a very long time after said shell had been developed, because it would devastate ships so effectively. When explosive shell finally was used against wooden ships routinely (Sevastopol, iirc, and the American Civil War), navies very quickly sought out ironclads, and technological revolution swept away the beautiful and effective wooden fleets almost immediately.
Yeah, it seems like there was an agreement not to sink an enemy ship unless absolutely necessary. I suppose it could have been because they’d lose the prize money, but I’m getting the impression (just from M&C) that these guys held back, that there was some sympathy (or mutual respect) for fellow sailors. I was surprised that they tried to rescue enemy sailors and didn’t just leave them to drown. Made me feel all warm and fuzzy, actually.
Hey, I’ll pull the guy out of the drink because it may be me that is swimming around with no where to go next time!
Is that Marryat?
My impression is that they always want to take a ship rather than sink or burn it, but their primary concern is the prize money or salvaging the enemy ship and its supplies for their own use. But if they think the odds are against taking it, they aim to damage the ship. Either way, they always do their worst, aiming with deadly intent up to the moment the other ship strikes its colors. Then they immediately stop the killing and begin to rescue enemy sailors and they’ll treat the wounded.
From The Mauritius Command, Jack on the *Boadicea *is about to engage with the French Venus, and explains to Stephen:
Jack is pragmatic about the killing he feels required to do, even though he tends to fall into melancholy after an action. He disapproves of those captains (blue-light captains, I think he calls them?) who like to have a sermon preached to the men before a battle, thinking that it doesn’t make sense to talk of turning the other cheek just before you’re about to do your level best to kill as many of the enemy as possible.