Master & Commander (the book) question: what's a prize agent?

I checked “The Ionian Mission” last night, and it is the “by and large” incident in that book. The Worcester was transporting a number of parsons to the Toulon blockade, (including Professor Graham and Mr. Martin), much to Jack’s dismay. On the way there, they were involved in a small battle, during which Stephen was the only injury. Each parson thought it his duty to visit with Stephen, much to his dismay. He found Graham to be the least objectionable of the lot. But during one of Graham’s visits, he saw fit to insult the mental abilities of Naval officers, which annoyed Stephen, leading him to defend the great complexity of sailing ships and the knowledge required to sail them. During this, the following exchange occurred:

“Such tales have I heard of Captain Bentinck’s palls, or rather shrouds, and his triangular courses, of Captain Pakenham’s newly-discovered rudder, of Captain Bolton’s jury-mast, of improved iron-horses, dogs, dolphins, mouses - or mice as some say - puddings…”

“Puddings my dear sir?” cried Graham.

“Puddings. We trice em athwart the starboard gumbrils, when sailing by and large.”

“The starboard gumbrils…by and large” said Graham, and with a passing qualm Stephen recalled that the Professor had an unusually good memory, could quote long passages, naming the volume, chapter, and even page from which they came.

Then at dinner, while Jack was admiring a spotted dog, Professor Graham asked about the phrase, and the officers basically told him it was nonsense. Gumbrils don’t exist, and sailing “by and large” is impossible:

With a piece of fresh Gibraltar bread and arrows drawn with wine he showed the ship lying as close as possible to the breeze: “…and this is sailing by the wind, or as sailors say in their jargon, on a bowline; whereas large is when it blows not indeed quite from behind but say over the quarter, like this.”
“Far enough abaft the beam that the studdingsails will set,” said Whiting.
“So as you see,” continued Harris, “it is quite impossible to sail both by and large at the same time. It is a contradiction in terms.” The expression pleased him, and he repeated, “A contradiction in terms.”

Graham was offended, and insulted Stephen a few minutes later. They didn’t speak again until Graham left the ship. Stephen was sorry that he offended Graham due to his offhand remark, but honestly never expected to see him again.

The only reason Graham showed up again was because Stephen had been put ashore in France to attend a secret meeting of various French agents. He was unaware that Graham was also attending the meeting, although he knew Graham was probably a member of a rival intelligence organization, since he had tried to recruit Stephen. The meeting went bad before anyone even arrived, and Graham accidently shot himself in the foot. Stephen found him and brought him back to the ship, at which point Graham pretty much had to forgive him, both because he was revealed as a fellow (and superior) intelligence agent, and because Stephen saved his life.

Oh, and the bear incident? Absolutely they thought he was real bear. “A led bear knows how to dance. 'Zis is logic.” Stephen had gotten advance notice that all British subjects were going to be arrested, so he & Jack (in the suit) headed south ahead of time. They just happened to come across a detail of French soldiers leading British prisoners to prison. The only reason the French soldier made him dance was to impress one of the female prisoners. But none of those soldiers were searching for Jack specifically (if anyone was).

Here’s a link to a memoir of a Royal Navy captain of the Napoleonic era:
A SAILOR
OF KING GEORGE

THE JOURNALS OF
CAPTAIN FREDERICK HOFFMAN, R.N.
1793–1814

http://www.gutenberg.org/files/27520/27520-h/27520-h.html

It’s not that long a read, and is interesting and sobering as much for the matter-of-fact mentions of deaths of friends and superiors due to tropical diseases as for the battle reports. The tedium of blockade duty is also discussed, as are a couple of years spent as a prisoner of war in France.

The guy was no Jack Aubrey, but he clearly had his moments.

muldoonthief – you’ve got the text. Re both Stephen and Graham, and the bear – “my bad, and my confused”. Apologies.

:bows: A glass of wine with you, Sir (or Madam).

'tis Sir, and thank you; and heaven be praised that we need not fight a duel – I make no doubt that if so, 'twere myself who would be spitted.

It perhaps seems ungrateful of us who love the Aubrey and Maturin series, to home in on isolated things to nitpick; but one small episode which always makes me cringe, is that in the time when the company are temporarily stuck, without a functioning ship, on a little, remote south-east Asian island. To keep morale up, the officers organise a cricket match: with an extreme shortage of players, Stephen is roped in. Being a highly cerebral type, he finds all sports completely boring and incomprehensible; plus, not being English, he knows nothing whatever about cricket. He has dim memories from his youth in Ireland, of the sport of hurling; and concludes that cricket must be very like it. When his turn as batsman comes, he acts as would be appropriate for hurling; chaos ensues.

My feeling is that the novels are full to overflowing with subtle and delicate wit and humour: and have absolutely no need for kids’-comic-type slapstick of the sort of – as above – Stephen as cricketer; and a few IMO similarly “regrettable and forgettable” episodes which come to mind. Ah, well; very few authors could write twenty-odd novels on an ongoing theme, without a few instances of “could do better”.

You do Dr. Maturin an injustice. He was by no means too cerebral for sport, and was quite fond of the sport of hurling, not to mention proud of his skill. He even carved his own bat from the deadly upas-tree. It was only Mr. Eliott’s untimely distraction that prevented him from watching the game to see how cricket differed from hurling.

And Patrick O’Brian was a master of slapstick and gross humor, as well as the subtle and delicate:

“Ah Dr. Maturin. I should dearly love to examine your excrement.”

“Wallis” said Dr Maturin, “I am happy to see you. How is your penis?”

Various descriptions of Babbington’s repulsive romantic conquests, and the physical consequences of such.

And the whole scene where the starving bookseller tries to rob Jack at gunpoint, followed by Jack beating him unconscious, then dragging him home and selling him to Stephen for a guinea.

I fear, kind Sir, that while slights to myself are meaningless and easily forgotten, such insults to Dr. Maturin and Mr. O’Brian are not so lightly passed off.

Fair comment – I tend to do Stephen wrong: too readily seeing him as the archetypal out-of-touch boffin, with no clue about the majority of things in life – a sort of early-19th-century Sheldon Cooper. Agree that that mischaracterises and maligns him.

I reckon that I should try to stop being hyper-critical; and just relax and enjoy what P. O’B. serves up to his readers.

Am willing to bet that there must be a message board specifically dedicated to O’Brian’s works – must investigate.

Was it possibly a satirical reference to James Fenimore Cooper? He had a scene (which he wrote straight-faced) where Natty Bumppo snuck into an Indian camp by impersonating a bear. The unlikelihood of the scene became the subject of jokes from Cooper detractors.

Yesterday my cycling buddies announced we were going on a ride at “6 bells” thinking that meant 6am! Harumph!

I know what you mean, but what was O’Brian’s option? He either had to stop writing, or write books in which not much happened. It just isn’t possible to write historical fiction of the type that O’Brian wrote without this problem.

hmssurprise.org used to be pretty active, but seems to have died down.

One of my favorite scenes is Aubrey sending Babbington ashore to purchase food and confiscates all his money so that he will not go to a house of ill repute.

All most everything in the novels has an historical basis; the sloop taking a frigate, the Mariantus (sp) campaign, the animals Stephen observes, the oceanic volcanic eruption in the Wine Dark Sea. I wonder if “Escape by Bear” has any basis in fact?

Yes, and that other highly unlikely scenario: Jack and Stephen being cast away, “open water” style, and being picked out of the ocean by a crew of Polynesian lesbians who are members of a castration cult.

If anyone can find a basis in historical fact for that one, I’ll eat my hat.

That is so implausible that it must be something O’Brien stumbled across in reading ships logs.
:slight_smile:

So did you show up at 7 or just correct them on the spot?

The Facebook group is fairly active: The Aubrey-Maturin Appreciation Society.

Yeah, that whole scenario is ridiculous - but it’s worth it to see Stephen’s complete trust in Jack’s empty reassurances of rescue, and for Mowett’s immediate reaction when he spots the open window in the empty great cabin. (“The doctor!”)

It’s another great example of slapstick - by the time Jack had dived in after him:

“…Stephen had become strangely entangled in his own net, his head and one elbow tangled in its meshes, its handle down the back of his shirt”.

I don’t really mind, and usually enjoy, the outrageous & slapstick parts of the books. These are sea stories after all.

vontsira, I really think your comparison of Stephen to Sheldon Cooper is completely unjustified. It’s clear that Stephen is hopeless in the nautical line, and 80% of what we see is him at sea, and punctuality is beyond his capability, but in many other aspects of life he’s extremely competent. He’s an excellent and highly admired doctor, naturalist, and agent, he’s well known at Court, respected by Admirals, Lords, and the Regent, is a fearsome swordsman with a “horrid quick murdering lunge”, and eventually married the most beautiful and interesting woman in the entire series.

He’s also a crack shot with a pistol.

What, they all start with the phrase "No shit, there we were … " :smiley:

G, D and R from all the Navy guys out there :stuck_out_tongue:

I read Master and Commander a couple years ago - wasn’t particularly excited by it, though I may someday read another one. I know I read at least part of a Honrblower book when I was a kid, but I’m not sure if I finished it and can’t remember a thing about the story.

I do, however, really like the Richard Bolitho stories, which I discovered around '72, and have copies of most of them.