#the mauritius command

[ola-na-tungee]

Literally every book of the series

[bomberqueen17]

liveblogging the Aubreyad: a snippet from book 4

This is a long snippet that is totally incidental to the plot and does nothing but advance our knowledge of several characters, so of course I could not resist it. Mostly it is an excellent example of what a fucking troll Stephen is.

context: McAdam is the ship's surgeon on a vessel called Nereide, upon which Stephen is being transported to do some intelligence-work. McAdam is another Irishman, from Ulster, and a physician also, of high reputation but fallen on hard times-- his specialty is diseases of the mind, and he remains fascinated by psychological and psychiatric issues, but he himself is now deeply alcoholic to the point of frequent inability to function, though he maintains an unfortunate perspicacity in some matters that perhaps Stephen might wish he did not. He and Stephen do not really get along, and in fact the previous night he had upset Stephen severely. Stephen's good humor, severely tried by recent events, has been restored because he has just been summoned on deck by Nereide's solicitous captain, who is aware that Stephen is a passionate naturalist, to witness a mermaid, who was floating next to the ship as it passed.

McAdam looked singularly unappetizing in the morning light, ill-conditioned and surly: apprehensive too, for he had some confused recollection of harsh words having passed the night before. But, having beheld the mermaid, Stephen was in charity with all men, and he called out, "You missed the mermaid, my dear colleague; but perhaps, if we sit quietly here, we may see another." "I did not," said McAdam, "I saw the brute out of the quarter-gallery scuttle; and it was only a manatee." Stephen mused for a while, and then he said, "A dugong, surely. The dentition of the dugong is quite distinct from that of the manatee: the manatee, as I recall, has no incisors. Furthermore, the whole breadth of Africa separates their respective realms." "Manatee or dugong, 'tis all one," said McAdam. "As far as my studies are concerned, the brute is of consequence only in that it is the perfect illustration of the strength, the irresistible strength, of suggestion. Have you been listening to their gab, down there in the waist?" "Not I," said Stephen. There had been much talk among the men working just out of sight forward of the quarterdeck rail, cross, contentious talk; but the Nereide was always a surprisingly chatty ship, and apart from putting this outburst down to vexation at their late arrival, he had not attended to it. "They seem displeased, however," he added. "Of course they are displeased: everyone knows the ill-luck a mermaid brings. But that is not the point. Listen now, will you? That is John Matthews, a truthful, sober, well-judging man; and the other is old Lemon, was bred a lawyer's clerk, and understands evidence." Stephen listened, sorted out the voices, caught the thread of the argument: the dispute between Matthews and Lemon, the spokesmen of two rival factions, turned upon the question of whether the mermaid had held a comb in her hand or a glass. "They saw the flash of that wet flipper," said McAdam, and have translated it, with total Gospel-oath conviction, into one or other of these objects. Matthews offers to fight Lemon and any two of his followers over a chest in support of his belief.” “Men have gone to the stake for less," said Stephen: and walking forward to the rail he called down, "You are both of you out entirely: it was a hairbrush." Dead silence in the waist. The seamen looked at one another doubtfully, and moved quietly away among the boats on the booms with many a backward glance, thoroughly disturbed by this new element.

[firstofficerrose]

Partway through The Mauritius Command, and Stephen has been, once again, dropped into the sea and very nearly killed.

You would think he's be better at this by now. He nearly drowns a minimum of once per book! But no. This is never going to go well for him.

[joyandcrown]

continuing aubreyad stuff

[xserpx]

"Good morning, Stephen," he said. "You look as pleased as Punch--the trip was to your liking, I hope and trust?"

"The most delightful trip, I thank you, Jack; and a very good morning to you too. Most delightful . . . look!" He held out his two hands, opened them cautiously and disclosed an enormous egg.

"Well, it is a prodigious fine egg, to be sure," said Jack: then, raising his voice, "Killick, light along the breakfast, will you? Bear a hand, there."

"Other things have I brought with me," said Stephen, drawing a green-baize parcel from his pocket and a large cloth bag. "But nothing in comparison with the truly regal gift of that most deserving young man Fortescue. For what you see there, Jack, is nothing less than the concrete evidence of the albatross's gigantic love. Whereas this"—pointing to the gently heaving parcel—"is no more than a poll-parrot of the common green, or West African, species, too loquacious for its own good." He undid the baize, snipped the band confining the parrot's wings, and set the bird upon its feet. The parrot instantly cried. "A bas Buonaparte. Salaud, salaud, salaud," in a metallic, indignant voice, climbed on to the back of his chair, and began to preen its ruffled feathers.

another gem found in "Mauritius Command"

Stephen with his enormous egg, transporting it with him through the air in a bosun's chair from ship to ship.

And then the parrot. (it cries "Down with Bonaparte. Bastard. Bastard. Bastard" in case you wonder) @thekenobee. You know why.

[hey-scully-itsme]

when i finish war and peace i GOTTA do another aubreyad circumnavigation. it's been over a year since I've read most of the books and i need to get more insane about them

[gigamuffin]

i know Tom Pullings probably named his son 'John' because its the most popular name in england, but deep down in my heart i know he named him after Jack Aubrey

[doctorcrabby]

Re-reading/listening “The Mauritius Command”

I forgot how fantastic this is Omg I love him so much i want to take him home with me

I love this even more:

OMG I’m wheezing

Oh HELLO SAILOR yes please do remove your trousers at once

[mycological-mariner]

This series is my hardboiled egg.

[ola-na-tungee]

thank you Mr. O'Brian for making Jack a giant hunk with golden mane and an incredible bass voice. this man can crack SIX walnuts in one hand . I will be forever grateful

[bomberqueen17]

Liveblogging the Aubreyad: Book 4, Mauritius Command, pt 2

ok so we left off with our heroes wandering around the indian ocean doing far too much with too little. Jack is In Charge and depressed about it but good at it, Stephen is pining for the dodo birds but rather grouchily doing extremely effective intelligence things out of pure hatred of Bonaparte, and the cast of supporting characters includes Lord Clonfert who is one-sidedly obsessed with Jack who barely knows he's alive, and Clonfert's doctor McAdam who keeps making unpleasantly keen observations about things and then passing out drunk. And of course Admiral Bertie, remotely in charge of everything from his station at Cape Town, who is just in this to figure out how much prize-money he can wring out of Lucky Jack's remaining luck which turns out largely to be that the guy's just a lot smarter than he looks, not that anyone seems aware of this least of all the guy himself.

But into all of this there will come an important ray of sunshine. Yes. Our favorite supporting character will soon be here.

So news reaches Cape Town from two directions. Firstly they finally get letters from home, but Sophie never dates her letters and hasn't learned to put them in waterproof envelopes, so Jack gets a stack of melted-together, mildewed, largely-illegible updates that he has to enlist Stephen to help him decipher, and they don't have much luck. She is apparently surprisingly well, underlined three times, but between the two of them even with all Stephen's code-breaking expertise they cannot work out just why anyone should be surprised about this. They also hear that Iphegenia and Magicienne are meant to join the squadron, sent via Sumatra.

But secondly they get news from out in the Indian Ocean that the remaining three French frigates have caused a bunch of fucking havoc and have captured yet more valuable British Indiamen-- the Windham is one that will come up again later-- and the HMS Victor, a sloop, along with the Portuguese Minerva, of 52 guns, now repurposed as the French Minerve. So the odds are once again in the French favor, and hurricane season is bearing down upon them.

Jack shifts his pennant back to the Boadicea, as the Raisonnable cannot endure the hurricanes, and off they go, back out to sea.

They encounter HMS Magicienne, who under Captain Curtis has managed to retake the Indiaman Windham but was not able to take the French Venus, Windham's former captor.

Stephen has a collection of gold to use as bribes, and pamphlets to put ashore for propaganda to turn the locals into supporters of the British. He accidentally tips the chest over and Jack has to help him pick it up.

“God help us," cried Jack, gazing at the mass of gold coins lying in a deep curve along the leeward side of the cabin. "What is this?" "It is technically known as money," said Stephen. "And was you to help me pick it up, instead of leering upon it with a stunned concupiscence more worthy of Danae than a king's officer, we might conceivably save some few pieces before they all slip through the cracks in the floor. Come, come, bear a hand, there.”

These go into a series of little bags which the sturdy, sure-footed Bonden is to carry ashore in a specially-made jacket all lined with pockets, as they sensibly determined that Stephen would absolutely drown himself if so weighed-down.

Boadicea, Magicienne, Nereiede now under Clonfert, and Sirius still under Pym, and Otter now under Clonfert's former lieutenant Tompkinson-- all fall to blockading Port-Louis, the capital of Mauritius, while Stephen goes with Grappler, a brig they took from the French when they took St. Paul (now under the command of a young man named Dent), to escort the retaken Indiaman Windham to La Reunion. (Jack had hoped by sending Corbett away he'd relieve the tension since Clonfert and he were on bad terms, but now Clonfert has managed to get on bad terms somehow with the easygoing Pym, to Jack's annoyance.)

Stephen returns with information, and sets out again almost immediately in Nereide, as Clonfert has a local pilot and knows the waters, and the ship draws a shallow draft. Stephen find Clonfert not very good company, but wins his favor by flattering him that his mysterious psychosomatic gut pains are truly impressively painful.

The blockade continues apace, the subversive pamphleteering likewise, and Stephen also manages to get ashore at Rodriguez with enough help from Keating's soldiers that he can excavate the bones he had longed to look for, the remains of a long-extinct dodo-like bird called the solitaire.

The tedium is eventually resolved by a hurricane, which the British squadron puts to sea to ride out, and does, but not without damage. They have to come back to refit at Cape Town, and the Admiral gives Jack very little support in dealing with the corrupt, slow-moving, greedy dockyard; Jack has to personally bribe them, left and right, with money he has to borrow for the purpose. And to cap all, his bosun has stolen so much from the ship that Jack really should court-martial him-- all the petty officers steal a little, it's a perquisite of their various ranks, but too much is too much-- but the simple fact is, there isn't anyone else who can do his job, and so Jack has to let him continue.

Iphegenia turns up, captained by a reasonable young fellow named Lambert, enterprising enough to have his statements of condition all drawn up, ready to go-- 36-gun 18-lb frigate, escorting fourteen transports full of soldiers, so that Rodriguez is sufficiently reinforced-- 1500 soldiers fewer than he'd asked for but Lt. Col. Keating is enterprising enough that he believes he can make it work, so they resolve to set about La Reunion with what they've got.

Clonfert had been competitively driving his ship to be done refitting first, but alas, he is disappointed-- Iphegenia and Magicienne are immediately ready to sail, but Nereide needs 36 hours yet. He also is weirdly competitive in conversation with Jack at various dinners, and Jack is mostly just confused and tries to avoid arguing.

They get to Rodriguez eventually, and Stephen slips away from the conferences of the various commanders and captains once he's given all the advice he feels appropriate-- he wants to go look for more solitaire bones. As he walks, someone else accosts him, calling out from behind him, and he tries to pretend he doesn't hear and walks faster, but his pursuer has longer legs and in fact is--

TOM PULLINGS

you didn't know he'd be in this book did you!!! I was delighted. He has taken the unglamorous but bill-paying job of commanding a transport, rather a career dead-end for a Navy lieutenant but a respectable position nonetheless. He is commanding the unlovely, squat Groper, of no very great sailing qualities but with an amazingly shallow draft, and is his usual cheerful self, delighted to see Stephen. Stephen, wasting no time, promises to honor him with a visit but first in the immediate moment could Tom spare him a sturdy sailor or two of fair average understanding who knows how to wield a shovel? and so while the soldiers are all loading onto the transports, Stephen and a pair of Gropers continue excavating solitaire bones for a precious few more hours.

The squadron sets out before nightfall; a big concern is that La Reunion has heavy surf on the windward side of the island, and the strategy dictates that they land troops on both leeward and windward. Both Keating and Jack are in positions of greater authority than they've ever held before, making decisions about operations the like of which they have not commanded before, and they are nervous but determined, and most importantly the two of them get along very well.

They split up, and the Boadicea is with the transports on the windward side of the island. At first the surf is minimal, but the weather worsens and the surf picks up. Jack moves up the timeline and they go in early to land their troops for fear of it worsening, but it is already severe, and the first few boats manage to get their men ashore but only by dashing against the beach, destroying the boats, and even that is causing some fatalities among the landing parties. (The first landing party was the detachment of seamen, commanded by Clonfert, who proceeds to stand on the battlements waving his sword and being extremely conspicuous throughout the rest of this, though he does no further useful things at this juncture.)

The only thing for it is to make a breakwater, and that involves sacrificing a larger ship. The Groper has a shallow draft; Jack orders Pullings to sail it in, anchor it at the last moment, and ground it on the beach in such a way that it will block the surf. Pullings does this with great promptness and accuracy, and they get a fair number of boats ashore intact, but then the anchor cable snaps and the Groper, her bows already irrevocably stove in, is hurled up onto the beach and shattered entirely.

They can't land the rest of the troops, nor can they get ashore to convey commands, and Keating is at a loss for how to proceed. After giving him a little time, Jack sort of gently steps in and says they can do no more here and must go around the other side to support the assault on the leeward side, and Keating gratefully accepts the support. A volunteer among the soldiers swims ashore to convey these orders, and they sail away.

Stephen goes ashore, and goes to parley with the French, many of whom he already knows and has already been speaking with. Keating gets the rest of his men ashore, sets up the assault beautifully, and has derived a really textbook plan of action that will gain them the island in three to four days' time.

But Stephen comes back with a surrender, to Keating's great disappointment. It has worked; they have the island, and that includes taking all the shipping in St Paul harbor as prizes. Pullings is told to go take his pick as a replacement for Groper, and winds up with a schooner that was formerly a privateer.

Jack, Keating, and the others resolve that now that they have La Reunion they must take Mauritius immediately, must scrape together all that they have and get the rest of the thing done before more orders can come from on high to slow them down, and importantly before the French can do anything about any of it. It will be tricky, but they do have enough ships, enough men, and most importantly they know what they're doing.

La Reunion has two ports-- one is Port-Louis, and the other is called Ile de la Passe or Port Southeast. Jack decides that they should assault Ile de la Passe first, and it's a tricky one with a narrow passage you have to navigate through in order to get to the harbor. The passage is defended by a battery, and since he has Clonfert with his local pilot's knowledge, Jack decides they should be detached to do this, and he should leave it up to them. Part of leadership is letting your underlings have independence.

Stephen goes with Clonfert so he can go ashore and propagandize. But the Nereiedes don't know about Stephen's foibles, and so they let him fall in when he's trying to come aboard, and he is only rescued because one of the local men loading the ship jumps in after him. So Stephen spends the whole transit to Mauritius sick in bed, recovering. Clonfert is kind to him and sits with him and is a completely different person in private, sweet and conciliatory and remarkably kind, and changes dramatically whenever there's a different audience.

McAdam resents how close Stephen and Clonfert have grown, and is rude to Stephen. He also, while drunk, is offensive about Irish Catholics, and on my first readthrough of the book I had to put it down at the point where he starts singing Croppies Lie Down, and could only come back when I'd calmed down a little myself. (I also had assumed McAdam knew Stephen was Catholic, but in the next paragraph Stephen realizes that he in fact does not suspect it.)

Stephen, stung beyond self-control, makes a fling about McAdam's drunkenness and McAdam responds with a fling about Stephen's use of laudanum. But McAdam can't remember the conversation the next day, and is mildly sheepish because he knows they argued but can't remember why.

The rest of the ships are blockading Port-Louis, but Nereiede takes the battery by Ile de la Passe, and then Clonfert spends some time amusing himself by dashing around doing various things ashore, and Stephen gets a lot of propagandizing done, and also manages to get himself a pillow stuffed with dodo feathers, to his great joy.

The French turn up at Ile de la Passe, and the Nereide is reasonably well-prepared but the shore battery is all scattered and apparently has made no plans for this. But I have grown too busy to continue this in a timely fashion so I'm going to divide it here, and I will come back in part 3 to tell you of what ensues!

[firstofficerrose]

I love that Jack remains, at least a year after the events of HMS Surprise, fully convinced that vampires are every bit as real as tortoises.

[lurking-latinist]

I just keep thinking about that conversation near the end of The Mauritius Command that's just like:

Stephen: so you're a mental health specialist right?

McAdam: insofar as such a thing exists here in the 1800s, yes

Stephen: so do you ever get patients with depression?

McAdam: yeah

Stephen: what generally happens to them?

McAdam: well eventually they die like everybody else

Stephen:

McAdam: also sometimes they can do drugs about it

Stephen (who is already doing drugs about it): oh. okay thank you

[mystery-star]

I simply can't get over how wholesome that part where Jack is made Acting Commodore in "Mauritius Command"

Like...

Officially adressed as Commodore Aubrey. LOVE IT.

And his crew 'secretly' made that pendant for Jack because they KNEW he was gonna be 'promoted'.

Then Jack even needing to show his new pendant (that he loves) to Stephen, his best friend.

Just so wholesome. All of it.

[supjello]

just finished the Mauritius Command and…. Clonfert….

[whencyclopedia]

Edward England

Edward England was an Irish pirate who operated in the Caribbean, the Eastern Atlantic, and the Indian Ocean between 1717 and 1720 during the Golden Age of Piracy (1690-1730). Captain England’s successful but brief pirate career came to an end when he was marooned by his crew on the island of Mauritius in 1720.

Early Career

Captain England has his own chapter in the celebrated pirate’s who’s who, A General History of the Robberies and Murders of the Most Notorious Pyrates, compiled in the 1720s. The book was credited to a Captain Charles Johnson on its title page, but this is perhaps a pseudonym of Daniel Defoe (although scholars are still debating the issue, and Charles Johnson may have been a real, if entirely unknown pirate expert). As with many other pirates, the General History is an invaluable source on England’s career, even if there are fictional additions to the factual information laboriously garnered from such sources as court records, official documents, and letters of the period.

Edward England’s real name was possibly Jasper Seager (or Seegar). Like many pirates of the period, England was obliged to join a pirate crew after the ship on which he was serving was captured. England had been an officer on a Jamaican sloop when it was taken by Christopher Winter, who was based at the pirate haven of New Providence in the Bahamas. The General History gives the following not unfavourable assessment of England’s character:

England was one of those men, who seemed to have such a share of reason, as should have taught him better things. He had a great deal of good nature, and did not want for courage; he was not avaricious, and always averse to the ill usage prisoners received: he would have been contented with moderate plunder, and less mischievous pranks could his companions have been brought to the same temper, but he was generally over-ruled. (114)

Following the successful attacks on pirates in their haven at New Providence (now Nassau) by Woodes Rogers, Governor of the Bahamas from 1717, England sailed across the Atlantic to continue his piracy elsewhere. Several merchant ships were captured in the Azores, Cape Verde Islands, and off the coast of West Africa.

In 1718, England himself obliged an otherwise honest man to turn pirate when he captured the Welshman Howell Davis who had been chief mate on a slave ship, the Cadogan of Bristol. The captain of the Cadogan was murdered, and Davis was given command of the slaver despite refusing to formally sign England’s ship’s articles and become a part of his pirate crew. Impressed with Davis’ courage, England allowed him to sail off. Davis ended up in Barbados where he was captured. Davis managed to escape prison, and he continued a pirate career on both sides of the Atlantic, a spree that ended with his death on Principe Island in 1719.

England was, for a time, an associate of the most successful of all pirates in the so-called Golden Age, Bartholomew Roberts (aka 'Black Bart' Roberts, c. 1682-1722). In the relatively small world of pirates, Roberts had taken over the crew of Howell Davis after the latter’s death. Roberts and England operated off the coast of Guinea, West Africa. England operated two ships: his own sloop and another prize renamed Victory. Command of the latter was given to John Taylor and together they raided the western coast of India and took more prize ships. When required, provisions were taken on board at the pirate base on Madagascar.

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