Damn the Defiant! (1962) - full transcript

Corrected and synched
by Fingersmaster. Enjoy!

Up your oars!

Come on, jump to it!
Press-gang, muster on the jetty!

Mr. Scott-Padget,
I shall return to Defiant in three hours.

We shall be there too, sir,
with a full crew ready and anxious to serve.

Thank you, Mr. Scott-Padget.

Press-gang.

Help!

Follow him!

Catch him!
Don't let him get away!

- Press gangs are busy tonight.
- Yes. Probably ours.



Down there!

- We're a few men short.
- A few?

- Well, a few dozen.
- Well, things get worse.

It seems the English sailor's
lost his taste for fighting.

Oh, I doubt that, sir.
Maybe he's lost his taste...

for the conditions
in which he's expected to fight.

- Must have discipline.
- Of course, sir.

But we must admit His Majesty's Navy
uses a heavy hand.

On occasion, perhaps, too heavy.

Apart from any finer feelings,
it could be dangerous.

A lower deck is too often
like a prison hulk.

No freedom, irregular pay,
and food that even rats won't touch.

Sorry, sir.
Speaking out of turn.

True, every word.



You've enough trouble ahead
without provoking any.

Still, that's up to the
Lords of the Admiralty to settle.

This is our business.
Sailing orders, Crawford.

Thank you, sir. I understand I make for
Corsica and report to Admiral Jarvis.

Correct.
And with all possible speed.

Try not to get involved
in any side issues on the way.

- Aye, aye, sir.
- How's your glass?

Your first lieutenant,
Mr. Scott-Padget--

what do you make of him?

Well, from a brief meeting, I would
judge him to be both efficient and keen.

So keen that he's out now
with a press-gang.

I hate tattling. No question
about the man's efficiency...

utter devotion to duty
and all of that.

- But I ought to warn you--
- If you'll forgive me, sir.

I would prefer to make up
my own mind about him.

Stop!

You mustn't register king's press.
That will never do.

Don't take him, please.
We've only been married three days.

You don't want him. He's not a sailor.
He's never been to sea in all his life.

We shall teach him.

You can't take him from me.
You can't!

- Sir, I beseech you, have pity on us.
- Bring him along.

These men are from the Defiant.

Press-gang.

From our ship, I think.

We're all navy men here.
They can't touch us.

Just the same, we'd have
some explaining to do, wouldn't we?

- You have to come along with us.
- You can't do that. He's a gentleman.

Well, of course I am.
Take your filthy hands off me!

Sir?

Am I in error, sir?

Thank heaven you're here.
Perhaps, you'll tell him.

- You can see I'm a gentleman.
- Look at these lovely clothes.

- Take him, Dawlish.
- But you can't--

Now, Vizard, you sail tomorrow?

Yeah, Mediterranean.

So you'll have to count us out for the present.

There's no need.

When your ship joins the fleet there,
spread the word.

If the Mediterranean Fleet
and the Channel Fleet...

struck at the same time,
we'd win our demands overnight.

You're going to act soon then?

As soon as we are ready, every ship
in the Channel Fleet will mutiny.

- Before spring?
- That depends.

How does your crew stand?

We've got 40 more pledges.

We've sworn half the ship's company already.

Good.

Poor men.

Driven like cattle.

I don't understand it.
Having to be pressed to go to sea?

Not everyone wants to leave
their homes, Harvey.

But think of it, Mother--
sailing in the Defiant...

and fighting the French.

You sound just like your father.

Anyway, the admiral
may not agree to let you go.

Father's back!

- What did the admiral say?
- Say?

About Harvey.

No objection.

After all, it's the custom.

- He thinks it's time you went to sea.
- Thank you, Father.

Gather your things and we'll get you
settled in Defiant tonight.

I'm ready!

Sorry, Mother.

Good-bye, my dear.
Look after yourself.

- Good-bye, Mother.
- Wait for me below.

He'll find things a bit different
from the training ship.

He's only 12.

Oh, don't worry.
He can take care of himself.

How long this time?
A year?

- Less, perhaps.
- Only perhaps?

I hate good-byes on the jetty.

- I know what you're going to say.
- So I'll take my leave of you now.

You left me days ago, as soon
as you caught sight of the sea.

God keep you both.

- Well, what do you think of her?
- She's beautiful.

Toss your oars. Up!

We'd better say good-bye. Once we sail,
there'll be no occasion to talk.

- Good-bye, Father.
- Good-bye, Harvey.

- Bows.
- Aye, aye, sir.

Carry on, Mr. Crawford.

Boats ahoy!

Captain's jolly boat
coming alongside, sir!

Up your oars! Up!

- Full company aboard, sir.
- Very good.

Mr. Scott-Padget,
this is Midshipman Crawford.

You must be very proud to serve
in the same ship as your father.

Yes, sir, I am.

Mr. Kilpatrick, will you take the
captain's son down to the gun room...

and introduce him
to his mess mates?

Stand by to hoist
captain's jolly boat.

Please pass the word that Mr. Crawford
is to be treated like any midshipman.

I quite understand.

Lots of women still aboard.
Mostly wives, I reckon.

Hello, my love.

Who are they?

Them? They're the pressed men.
Come on. Follow me.

Bye, my love.

Get those wretched women
off the ship!

- Hoist away!
- Dawlish!

- Swing them over!
- Clear the decks!

See you next trip, Nell.

All supplies aboard, sir,
checked and correct.

Thank you, Mr. Scott-Padget.
Parade the recruits.

Aye, aye, sir.

- Parade recruits.
- Get on deck!

- Lively!
- You men, look lively, will you?

Come on! Fall in at the end
of these two lines.

- Where are you going?
- I must see the captain immediately.

- I've been wrongly pressed.
- Get in that line!

Recruits ready for inspection, sir.

There's a man here says he's been
wrongly pressed. Wants to be put ashore.

- I brought him in myself.
- Says he's a gentleman, sir.

- He's a fraud.
- I'm not. I'm as good as--

I insist that my antecedents are
as honorable as your own doubtless are.

- What is your name?
- Perceval Palliser Wagstaffe.

Wagstaffe. Are you by any chance
related to Admiral Wagstaffe?

Remotely, yes.
He's a distant cousin.

- But he would speak for you?
- I'm sure he would.

- How well do you know him?
- Intimately.

- You visit his house?
- Oh, yes, often.

You claim that, do you?

Do you also claim to be a madman?

For to have constantly visited
someone who does not exist--

Not exist?
Would I not know my own cousin?

I invented him a moment ago.

What are you?

A clerk?

Keep silence!

Yes, sir. I'm promised
my articles to study law.

Very well, Mr. Dawlish.

- Recruits ready for inspection, sir.
- Thank you, Mr. Scott-Padget.

The usual beach combings.
It'll take a lot of hard work.

They haven't been sworn yet.

What does the surgeon say?

Ah, Mr. Goss.

Well, they'll do.
They'll do very well, sir.

- Excuse me, sir.
- What?

I wish to appeal.
There's been a dreadful mistake.

- No mistake.
- But I'm a gentleman.

The man's an impostor.
I questioned him.

- If you'll excuse me, sir.
- Mr Scott-Padget?

I must ask you
not to turn your back.

I apologize, sir.
My other duties--

Until you get permission to the contrary,
your duty is here with me.

Now, lads, don't think
it's the end of the world.

This is a good ship with a fine crew...

many of whom were pressed
like yourselves.

We have every hope of an exciting cruise...

and--who knows-- rich prizes.

So, learn your duties,
obey orders...

and no harm will come to you.

The only enemy is the Frenchman.
Remember that.

Mr. Dawlish, read these men
the Articles of War.

They are compulsorily enlisted.

Now, Mr. Scott-Padget,
you may proceed with your other duties.

Thank you, sir.

You'll muster on the forecastle
where I shall read you the Articles of War.

Turn forward and follow me!

Boatswain, get those men moving.
Use your starter on them.

Aye, aye, sir.
Jump to it, you swabs!

Anchors aweigh!

Up aloft there! Come on there!
Look lively, lads!

Next!

Set the foresail.

Set the foresail!

Give her the mainsail.

Set the mainsail!

- Keep her full.
- Aye, aye, sir.

Set the jib!

Don't look down, you swab!

Keep 'em moving,
damn your eyes!

Go higher, you scum!

Last man down,
send him for punishment!

Boatswain, get them moving!

Come on there! Jump to it!

That's not good enough.
We'll do it again. Now.

Come on! Up the riggin'!
Get up!

Come on now!
Come along the rig there!

Have you died up there?
Keep 'em moving!

Much better.

You've accomplished wonders with this crew.

- Thank you, sir.
- Don't press them too hard.

12 minutes, 45 seconds to beat.

They'll do it this time.

Hey!

- Is he badly hurt?
- Leg broken, sir.

- Get him below to the surgeon.
- Aye, aye, sir.

- That'll be enough drill for today.
- Get this man below to the surgeon.

- Carry on down below.
- Dismiss the starboard watch!

Mr. Scott-Padget,
will you have dinner with me tonight?

- Starboard watch secure.
- Thank you, sir.

And what about the man
injured this morning?

Oh, not too good.

If he doesn't improve,
I may have to take the leg off.

I'm sorry.

Mr. Scott-Padget's already asked me
when he can return to duty.

You don't like Scott-Padget, do you?

- I've served with him before.
- Oh, when was that?

In the Beadle, sir.
Bad ship that was.

Far too much flogging.

There was a man killed.

- Under punishment?
- Yes, sir.

I think I can deal with Mr. Scott-Padget.

Maybe, sir.

Do you know what happened
to the Beadle's captain?

Their Lordships of the Admiralty broke him...

as they broke the captain of his previous ship.

- Influence?
- Aye, sir.

When somebody of enormous power
has a mistress...

and that mistress has a son...

that young man has very powerful
influence at his back.

I see.

He's one of the most brilliant
young officers I've ever seen.

A future Drake or Hawkins...

with a vicious streak and a silver spoon
and he has to land on my quarterdeck.

Sir, it could be the making of him.

Good evening, Mr. Scott-Padget.

- Can I offer you a glass of Madeira?
- Thank you, sir.

- I'll be going, sir.
- Thank you, Mr. Goss.

You'll be interested to know
our sailing orders.

We join the Mediterranean Fleet
at Corsica, reporting to Admiral Jarvis.

Convoy duty. Orders say,
"With all possible dispatch"...

so we shall not put in at Gibraltar.

But you'll have ample time
to train the crew.

I hope so, sir. I should like to use
next week in gunnery practice.

Good.

Starboard watch to scuppers!

I well realize the difficulties
of working up a green crew in wartime...

but as soon as possible I would like you
to go more easily with them.

The first few weeks,
we're inclined to use methods...

that none of us like.

- Are you questioning my methods, sir?
- I haven't said so.

I know the value of discipline
as well as you do.

- Discipline is all that matters, sir.
- It's never all that matters, Mr. Scott-Padget.

But it can exist, even rigidly,
in a happy ship.

The ideal is always possible, sir,

if the men cooperate.

I'm sure they will.

I'll give you a toast--

To Defiant, an efficient ship
and a happy one.

An efficient ship, sir.
And death to the French.

That rather depends on your gun drill.

Mr. D'Arblay, get these men
into position and keep them there.

- Elevate. Set.
- They're jumping about like rabbits.

- Prime.
- Fire!

Get back!

Oh, sir, I never meant to--

Sergeant, put this man under arrest...

- for making to strike an officer.
- No, sir! No!

You'll be flogged for this.
Six dozen lashes.

Wheatley, you're under arrest.

You made to strike an officer?

No, sir. I wouldn't have hit out, sir.
Honest.

I've learnt that much.

But you did put up your fists?

Well, answer me!

On an impulse of anger, sir,
instantly regretted.

What was that?

On an impulse of anger, sir,
instantly regretted.

- Where did you learn that phrase?
- It's true, sir.

Threatening an officer
is a court-martial offense.

But in the circumstances
and because of your clean sheet...

I'm going to be as lenient as I may--
two dozen lashes.

I said six dozen, sir.

- March him out, Sergeant.
- Right turn. Forward march.

There were a score of people close by.
They heard what I promised him.

It was not your decision to make.

Gentlemen, did you take note
of that phrase he used?

Phrase, sir?

"An impulse of anger,
instantly regretted."

Of course, it may mean nothing.

But in my opinion, he'd been drilled in it.

- Drilled, sir? By whom?
- I wish I knew.

- Our man remembered his little piece.
- Yeah. Didn't save him, did it?

Maybe it helped. Only two dozen.
Scott-Padget must have nigh run mad.

Two dozen. You know
what that means, don't you?

- Shut your mouth, Silly Billy.
- Means a soft captain.

My old captain on the Swift--
Captain Shaw--

he never gave less than six dozen.

Yeah, that's what he gave me.

Six dozen. Look here!

All hands on deck
to witness punishment!

- All hands on deck!
- Go on, jump to it!

Jump to it!

Ship's company, attention!

Ship's company ready
to witness punishment, sir.

Carry on.

Prisoner ready for punishment, sir.

- Commence punishment!
- Start the roll!

One!

Two!

Three!

Four!

Five!

Six!

Seven!

Eight!

Nine!

Ten!

Eleven!

Twelve!

Thirteen!

Fourteen!

Fifteen!

Sixteen!

Seventeen!

Eighteen!

Nineteen!

Twenty!

- Twenty-one!
- Only three more.

- Twenty-two!
- Look at your feet.

Twenty-three!

Twenty-four!

Punishment completed, sir.

Cut him down.

Aye, aye, sir.

Cut him down.

Ship's company, turn forward!

Dismissed!

- Musketeers, turn forward.
- Fair weather, Mr. Ponsonby.

Dismissed!

"I, Richard Dawlish, master-at-arms
aboard His Majesty's Ship Defiant...

do solemnly make oath and swear
that I will be true to the cause...

and serve as one
of the council of action...

even to the laying down of my life."

Well done, Dawlish.

"Corsica, Leghorn,
last remaining British bases."

Message ends.

- Acknowledge.
- Aye, aye, sir.

- Grave news, sir.
- Yes.

Napoleon's overrunning Italy.

- He's bound to bring Spain on his side.
- Yes.

Therefore, I presume you want to change plans
and put in here at Gibraltar.

- I've seen no signal countermanding our orders...
- No, but since...

which are to proceed to Corsica
with all possible dispatch.

Set the gallants.

Take over the watch, Mr. Ponsonby.

Yes?

It is my opinion, sir, that we
put back to Gibraltar immediately.

Have you set the gallants?

Not yet, sir.

Why not?

If we proceed to Corsica now, sir,
we may be sailing into a hopeless trap.

- I have my orders.
- Yes, sir.

Which were to join Admiral Jarvis,
who may no longer be at Corsica.

You're well informed.

He's bound to sail back here, sir,
where his fleet will be safe--

where he won't be bottled up,
trapped...

cut off from his bases and supplies
by a strong enemy fleet.

Admiral Jarvis is not a fool, sir.

I'm sure he'd be happy
to hear you say so.

I think you underestimate him, sir.
He would have done as I say.

My responsibility--and yours too--
is to carry out existing orders.

We're also responsible
for the safety of this ship.

To risk it for orders
which events have outdated...

instead of using
our imagination and initiative--

When you get your own command,
you can sail by imagination if you wish.

My ship will continue to follow
instructions from the Admiralty.

Whatever the consequences?

You may have the power of life and death
over every man aboard this ship, sir.

But I warn you,
if we come through this voyage safely--

Yes? If?

To have followed Admiralty instructions
may not be quite enough.

I will say this to you only once, sir.

I will not be bullied or threatened,
and I intend to be obeyed.

Your friends in London mean nothing to me.

And while you serve in this ship,
they will mean absolutely nothing to you!

You can go now.

- Steady as she goes!
- Steady, sir.

Mr. Ponsonby, set the gallants!
Smartly, Mr. Ponsonby. Smartly.

Aye, sir.

- Topmen aloft, set the gallants!
- Yes, I can.

Get those midshipmen out of the rigging.
This is a ship of war, not a nursery.

Aye, sir. On deck,
Mr. Pardoe, Mr. Crawford!

Top main squared off!

Set the gallants!
Lively now!

I want you to find the senior
midshipman for me.

Mr. Kilpatrick, sir?

Tell him that I shall see him
in the gun room immediately.

Aye, aye, sir.

Get that hatch open, Grimshaw.
Let some air into the magazine.

Did you hear what I said?
Open that hatch.

But, sir,
we had it open yesterday.

I don't care whether it was open
yesterday or the week before.

I'm giving you an order.
Open that hatch!

But, sir,
orders is once a week.

Stand up, you insolent dog!

Mr. Scott-Padget wants to see you,
sir, in the gun room.

- What the devil does he want?
- I don't know. He said immediately.

- Get that hatch open at once!
- Aye, aye, sir.

Carry on with the report,
Sergeant Kneebone.

- I've got three more.
- I've got seven.

- Five. That's all.
- That's good enough.

We'll have the whole ship pledged
by the time we get to the fleet.

- Meantime, we write our petition.
- Petition?

Why is everybody afraid
of the word "mutiny"?

I'm not afraid of the word
if it fits, but it don't.

You seize one ship, that's mutiny.
No one ever got away with it.

You seize the whole fleet,
there's nothing they can do about it.

They can't hang every man afloat.
There aren't enough yardarms.

We'll make 'em listen to us.

Till then, spread the gospel...

same as the boys back at Spithead
are doing this instant minute.

Yeah, wait and wait and wait.

Yes, Evans, wait.
Till the time comes.

When the time comes, Vizard,
Scott-Padget--

Mr. Kilpatrick, you've been before
the Commissioning Board three times...

and each time you failed.

- Yes, sir.
- What age are you--33, 34?

- Thirty-five, sir.
- Thirty-five?

Then your chances of becoming an officer...

- are getting slight, aren't they?
- Yes, sir.

Unless the board had reason to believe
that you had special qualities.

Special qualities, sir?

Yes. Ingenuity in a difficult situation.

Courage, loyalty to a particular officer--

an officer with influence
who might go out of his way to use it.

Yes, sir.
I think I see, sir.

Now, you're responsible, aren't you...

for the discipline of younger midshipmen
when they kick over the traces?

Make 'em kiss the gunner's daughter.
Yes, sir.

- Yes. Without fear or favor.
- Sir.

How about young Mr. Crawford?
How does he take it?

Like a man, I hope.

- Actually, I've not yet had occasion--
- Not yet had occasion?

If he's made of good stuff,
he must be high-spirited.

And if he's high-spirited,
he must get into mischief.

And if he gets into mischief,
he must be punished.

The captain insisted on no favoritism.

- I think you heard him say that.
- Yes, sir.

Well, be watchful, Mr. Kilpatrick.

- And diligent.
- Yes, sir.

And if you ever need my advice,

don't hesitate to ask for it.

Thank you, sir.

- Now, don't lie, son.
- I didn't do it, sir.

Are those your initials or not?

Yes, but I just made a little scratch.
You could hardly see it.

Oh, you did?
First you say one thing, now another.

Well, I thought--
It's all so marked about anyway.

But it shouldn't be. There's a mess rule
against defacing the tabletop.

I've been lenient with you,
Mr. Crawford. Much too lenient.

- Anything to say?
- Only that someone else must have--

- Nothing to say, sir.
- Nothing to say?

The very time when you should have.
Here we call that "dumb insolence."

Bring the lamp closer, carpenter.

- Yes, there is a trace of worm.
- I thought you should know about it.

Nothing a little whitewash won't cure.
I don't think the ship's falling apart.

I thought it might work its way
through to the midshipmen's berth.

- Perhaps you'd be good enough to look.
- Very well, if you think it important.

Somebody being taught his manners?

Overdoing it, isn't he?

- That will do, Mr. Kilpatrick.
- Aye, sir.

All right, get up.

May I ask what he's being
punished for, Mr. Kilpatrick?

Cutting his initials
on the mess table.

- Where is this trouble you mentioned?
- Chapman!

It's just a patch of uncoated timber.
Is that what you brought me in here for?

I thought you should see, sir.

The wind's freshening, sir,
as I expected.

- Why have you countermanded my orders?
- Sir?

I ordered the gallants to be set.
When I come on deck, I find nothing.

- I judged with the following wind--
- You judged, Mr. Scott-Padget?

You judged?

- Simply a matter of good seamanship.
- Sir, you're impertinent.

I will not have every decision
I make questioned by you.

Go below and stay there until you're
told to come on deck. Is that clear?

Yes, sir. Quite clear.

- Mr. D'Arblay, set the gallants.
- Aye, aye, sir.

Set the gallants!

All haul together, lads!

There you are. Come on.

A beating every day for a week.

Why doesn't the captain
do something about it?

What can he do?

- You all right, lad?
- Thank you.

Come on, then.
We'll go down together.

Easy now.

Muster on the gun deck. Move!

These stripes are coming along
very nicely.

They're still bloody painful, sir.

His own son, eh?

What's the matter with the captain?
Can't he see what's going on?

Hey, you!
Come here. Sit down.

Now, what you said just now out there.
"Captain can't do anything."

- What do you mean by that?
- I was just guessing.

Well, suppose he went
for Scott-Padget over this.

There'd be a court-martial.
There'd have to be.

And they'd prove that he was attacking
an officer to protect his own son.

That would finish him.

And if Scott-Padget has influence,
it could be easily done.

How much law do you know, lad?

Oh, well, I told you,
I was just guessing.

So, Scott-Padget's gonna rule the roost,
run the ship his way.

- It's a chance, isn't it?
- What for?

Scott-Padget.

Put a knife in his back.
Give him Jonah's toss.

- Don't be a fool.
- Now look.

Suppose the captain found him gone
tomorrow. Do you think he'd care?

We're not after one man.
We're after bigger things.

And we'll get it,
if we're patient.

That's the only word you know,
isn't it?

I know this, Evans-- that if we touch
one officer aboard this ship...

our whole cause is lost.

Do you think he heard?

That old drunk?
What's it matter?

Crawford, didn't I tell you
to have this place cleaned up?

- But I did.
- You call this filthy mess clean?

It seems as if I shall have to teach you
another lesson. Come over here.

I hope I'm not disturbing you, sir.

Not in the least, Mr. Goss.

I thought, sir, I should report that--

Report what?

Well, the man Wheatley's
recovering well from punishment...

and the other three men injured
have gone back to duty, sir.

- You told me all this yesterday.
- Aye, yes, sir.

Really, I wish, sir,
to make a suggestion.

Well, forgive me if I--
What I mean is--

If he could spend a few days
in the sick bay...

he'd be out of their hands,
you see.

Who would be out of whose hands?

Your son.

What are you trying to tell me?

Well, I can hear everything.
My quarters is just opposite, you see.

And when these punishments go on--

Is my--Is Mr. Crawford
the only one punished?

Oh, no, sir. But when two or three
get beaten, he's always one of them.

Well, it's got to stop, sir. I've heard
things said on the lower deck.

- The men are beginning to think--
- Think what?

- Well, what I mean is--
- Yes?

Mr. Scott-Padget's compliments, sir.
He begs you for an audience, sir.

At once, if possible.

He said it is of the most
vital importance, sir.

Mr. Crawford,
you should be in sick bay.

No, sir.
I'm not ill, honestly.

- Please, may I take him your answer, sir?
- No.

I'll deliver it myself.

- You asked to see me.
- I didn't expect you to come here, sir.

At this moment, all I want to do
is thrash you and clap you in irons.

But that would suit you very well,
as we both know.

- I fail to understand you, sir.
- Do you?

I have no intention of following
your previous captains onto the beach.

Is that clear?
Now, what do you want from me?

Only to be restored to duty, sir.

I have no wish to be confined here
when I'm needed on the quarterdeck.

What makes you think you're needed there?

- There's a sea running.
- Very slight.

I've been listening to the signs of it.
I know that I'm right.

You always have to be right.

So in case we have to reduce sail...

may I return to the deck?

It is my place...

and my duty.

Your first duty on leaving this cabin...

will be to see that all is well
in the midshipmen's berth.

- But surely Mr. Kilpatrick will--
- Will do as you tell him.

I want the boy left alone.

He's taken more than enough.

You mean your son, sir?

You know very well I mean my son.

I shall see to it for you, sir.

May I now be returned to duty?

You may.

Why are we not under full sail?

I judged it to be inadvisable, sir.

- Now, Waggie, just carry on working.
- What do you want?

- You.
- We need a lawyer.

- But I'm not a lawyer yet.
- No, but you've studied law.

You can find your way about a document
better than we can.

I might give advice,
but that's all.

Now, listen. We want you
to help us with our petition.

- For redress of grievances?
- "Redress." That's the sort of word.

And a lot of other words
for a lot of grievances.

Some of the men haven't been
off this ship for years.

- Why don't they make a run for it?
- Run for it?

Get caught and flogged like him?

Leave me alone.
I won't join a mutiny.

It's not a mutiny.
And you're gonna help us prove that.

You're taking the oath.

What are they doing there?

- What's this little gathering for?
- Just making up some rope, sir.

Hard work with these louts
lying on it. Move them!

Come on. Get moving.
Jump to it! Come on! Get moving!

Watch out, or next time
you'll be in for real trouble.

- I'm sorry, sir. It was my fault.
- Yours?

Yes, sir. I pulled on the rope,
tripped him.

Make damn sure you don't
have any more accidents, Vizard.

Otherwise, I'll have a look
at your backbone.

Boatswain?

What's the matter with you?
Are you out of your mind?

Vizard, I will join.

Good lad.

You'll be flogged for this.
Sergeant!

- Take him forward, put him under guard.
- Jones!

Another flogging.

Pass the word.

We do a full tryout
tomorrow at eight bells.

♪ It's ten long years ♪

♪ Since last I see thee ♪

♪ Far away ♪

♪ Your lonely river ♪

♪ It's ten long years ♪

♪ Since last I see thee ♪

♪ A way I'm bound to go ♪

First Lieutenant said keep
a sharp lookout to starboard, Pardoe.

Thank you.

You men on gun three,
jump to it!

Station two marines
in the after well deck at six bells.

- Steer east-nor-east.
- East-nor-east, aye, aye.

Yes, sir?

In the last few minutes,
have you noticed anything?

- Noticed what, sir?
- A number of small things.

For instance, a man shouting
without a sound.

- I don't know what you mean, sir.
- All right.

He saw you do it.
Why did you?

That's the signal. I'm supposed to shout
to the lads to give three cheers.

Well, next time we have a tryout,
you be more careful.

When are we going to do it?
The real thing?

You'll be told.

Meantime, we've done what we said.
We join the fleet tomorrow in Corsica...

with something to show 'em--

a fully pledged ship...

ready for action.

Not a single bloody ship.

Nothing in the harbor.

Not a stick nor a spar.

Looks like we're on our own, then.

What happened to them?
Where are they?

They must have sailed.

If there are no British ships,
there'll soon be some French ones.

- I suggest we leave here immediately.
- We're going to.

And put back to Gibraltar
as I suggested in the first place?

- Bring her about, Mr. Scott-Padget.
- Yes, sir.

Boatswain, stand by to wear ship!

Mr. Ponsonby, I want you
to find Midshipman Crawford.

Send him into the tops
for two days.

- A punishment, sir?
- Do as I tell you.

Mr. Scott-Padget, I wish to speak
to the ship's company informally.

Muster all hands,
if you please.

All hands to the after well deck!

All hands muster in the well deck!
Come on! Jump to it!

We are heading back
to Gibraltar, sir, aren't we?

We'll stay on this course
for the time being.

Well, lads,
I've got some explaining to do.

We seem to have lost the fleet,
and I don't know where to find them.

I've mustered you because I want you
to know the orders for the fleet and us.

Which are to escort a great convoy
of timber ships...

from the far side of Italy
right back...

to England.

Timber to build ships of align and frigates.

More like her. Defiant.

Now it's our duty to go
to the place of rendezvous...

and see if the convoy is there.

If it isn't,
well, we've done our best.

If it is,

we'll bring it back...

in the face of Frenchmen,
Spaniards...

or anyone else
who cares to try and stop us.

- Back to your duties.
- Carry on.

Italy, Mr. Scott-Padget.

Hello, Harvey.
I brought you some biscuits.

- Thank you.
- How long have you done here now?

- Day and a half.
- Old Scott-Padget must be getting soft.

It wasn't him.
It was Ponsonby.

- Oh? Why?
- Pardoe, a ship!

Deck there! Sail-ho!
Starboard beam!

A frigate and a merchantman,
both French...

on the starboard beam!

Beat to quarters!

Mr. Scott-Padget, set all sails.
Give her every stitch.

- Aye, aye, sir.
- Mr. Scott-Padget...

I'll not have an officer
carrying a rope's end.

All right, there!
Overhaul the gear!

Very good, sir.

Set the gallants and flying jib!

- One gun ready!
- Two gun ready!

- Three gun ready!
- Four gun ready!

Cast loose!

- Forward your guns!
- Heave! Heave!

Heave!

- Ship ready and cleared for action, sir!
- Thank you, Mr. Scott-Padget.

Lads, we'll fight her
as if all England were watching.

- Helm up.
- Helm up, sir.

Let her fall off a little more.

Aye, aye, sir.

It's getting closer.

Stand fast!
Take the wounded away!

Steady. Fire!

Steer small.

- Aim for a mast.
- Fire!

Fire!

Fire!

Fire!

- Take over boarding party.
- Aye, aye, sir!

Board!

Help me!

I'll kill you!

Gun crews, stand by to board.
Mr. Ponsonby.

Board!

All right, you--

Captain of Marines!
Tell the Captain of Marines to board!

- Aye, aye, sir.
- Marines, board!

The ship's ours, sir!
Now for the merchantman!

She's stuck her colors.
We'll take her as a prize.

Everything's in order, sir.
Both ships.

Take him below, Sergeant Kneebone.

He says the English fleet
has made for the Atlantic, sir.

- I don't believe it.
- It's what I've said all along.

If the fleet's gone back, we may be the
only English ship in the Mediterranean.

Do you still insist
on making that rendezvous?

I only insist on carrying out my orders,
which are to escort a convoy.

But there won't be a convoy, sir. Only a
French ship of the line waiting for us.

- I can see it now.
- Yes, I think you can.

- You've been proved right once before.
- Exactly, sir.

But on this occasion,
I feel you're wrong.

There will be no French ship
of the line, only the fear of one.

- Sir--
- Listen.

- They're celebrating already.
- Sir--

And why not?
There'll be prize money for all hands.

Plenty of prize money
with these two beauties.

- You'd do well to pay attention.
- I've detailed the crews...

to sail them back: the third lieutenant
in command of the frigate.

Good luck, Mr. D'Arblay.
A pleasant voyage to Rochefort.

- Thank you, sir.
- You must listen to what I have to say.

I've put Mr. Kellahorn
in charge of the merchantman.

I've given him a junior midshipman
to assist him.

Mr. Crawford.

Mr. Crawford?

Take care of that ship.

- Aye, aye, sir.
- Get her back safely.

Pull away. Hoist away.

I thought you wanted to have the boy
on board with you, sir.

I thought so too.

I made a mistake.

Now I've put it right.

Faster! Keep moving! Faster!

Jump to it, you lazy dogs! Jump!

Mr. Scott-Padget!

They fought well yesterday, sir,
because I got them into fighting trim.

I'll have no officer carrying
a rope's end, much less using one.

- I couldn't find Kilpatrick.
- I'm suspending you for this watch.

- For carrying a rope's end?
- For disobeying an order.

From now on, I shall take steps
that will astound you.

You have astounded me, sir,
many times, in many ways.

What was that?
I think you need a hard lesson, sir.

When you return to this deck,
you'll keep watch...

and watch four hours on
and four hours off, day and night.

I'm a senior officer, sir,
not a midshipman.

Not a midshipman.

- I apologize, sir, if I've offended--
- Damn you! Get below!

- I simply wanted to say--
- Still you argue and disobey.

Mr. Ponsonby, when off duty, this
officer will report every two hours...

fully dressed and equipped
to the officer of the watch...

who will inform me
that he has done so.

Now get below.

Look at 'em.
They've forgotten the petition already.

In our business, bloody Scott-Padget
was the best friend we had.

Carry on, Mr. Scott-Padget.

Sir, officer under punishment
has reported with all equipment correct.

Thank you, Mr. Ponsonby. Small chance
of a convoy still being here.

- Any change in course, sir?
- Not yet.

Sail-ho! Deck there!

Large sail two points forward
of the larboard beam!

What is she? Can you tell?

She's a frigate, sir!

Do you hear, Mr. Scott-Padget?
A single frigate, not your ship of the line.

- Beat to quarters.
- Aye, aye, sir.

Beat to quarters!

They think this is a safe road now.

We'll run with her and take a closer
look. Bring us round to nor-nor-west.

Aye, aye, sir.

- Steer nor-nor-west.
- Nor-nor-west.

Number five's ready to go on!

- Number one ready.
- Number two ready.

- Three ready!
- Four ready!

- Number five, ready!
- All guns ready, sir!

Cleared for action, sir.
Fighting lanterns ready.

- Gun ports not yet open.
- Thank you.

She's a Venetian, all right.
- Neutral, then.

Unless Venice has been overrun
by the French.

No flag. No signal.

Why not?

She must be able to see our colors.

And she must have heard us
clear for action, sir.

- Mr. Ponsonby, private night signal.
- Aye, aye, sir.

Hoist the night signal.

No reply.

The gun ports are opened, sir.

We can't sit here
waiting for her broadside.

I'm just as suspicious as you are,
Mr. Scott-Padget,

but we must be sure.

We cannot expose the ship like this,
sir. We must fire now.

All right, Mr. Scott-Padget.
Run out your guns.

- Aye, aye, sir.
- But hold your fire.

Run out your guns!

Heave!

What ship are you?

We are His Majesty's ship Defiant.

What ship are you?

Fire party to number five gun!

Mr. Ponsonby, it's his arm!
Get him below!

Hudson, King, quickly!
Get the captain below!

The captain's been hit!
Take your orders from me!

Ready!

Fire!

Who's that out there?

What's happening?

Goss.

- Has Defiant been taken?
- Why, no, sir.

Whose are those voices?

Uh, Mr. Scott-Padget.
The captain.

Did Goss tell you?

- I took the Venetian, sir.
- Did we lose many men?

Nothing to speak of--
a dozen or so.

And wounded, about threescore.

If you'll allow me, sir.
I'm needed.

She went down later, sir, but before
she did, we took a great deal off her.

Crates of it.
All on its way to France.

But there's a much bigger prize.

Bring in the Frenchman.

Though you wouldn't believe it
to look at him...

this absurd figure
is Colonel Giraud...

the political adviser
to Napoleon himself.

All right. Take him away.

It's fortunate for us...

that Colonel Giraud
omitted to destroy all his papers.

He knows of plans
for the invasion of England.

Does he know when?

Within the next few weeks, sir.

He must be sent to London.

Yes, of course, sir.

As soon as I've made the necessary
repairs, we shall make all speed.

- You've done extremely well.
- Thank you, sir.

And Mr. Scott-Padget...

this crew serves well
if you don't drive them too hard.

I shall remember that, sir.

"Change our vile body
that it may be like His glorious body...

according to the mighty workings...

whereby He is able to subdue
all things to Himself."

That ends the burial service
for those killed in action.

Turn forward and--

Stand by, all hands.

I can't waste time with assemblies,
so this must serve a second purpose.

Stand by to witness punishment.

All hands to witness punishment!

- Two dozen, just for lookin' at him.
- Stow it.

- Commence the punishment!
- Start the roll!

Keep low.

She'll take over her masts.

She'll lop them off!

Keep down. Keep down.

Goss, are you there?

I'm-- Boy, where's Mr. Goss?

On deck, sir--
for the flogging.

Flogging?
I authorized no flogging.

Twenty-three!

Twenty-four!

Punishment completed, sir.
Two dozen lashes.

- Cut him down!
- Aye, aye, sir.

Enjoy yourself?
You won't for long.

I'll have your throat out,
you bloody swine!

Another two dozen!

- Aye, aye, sir!
- Another two dozen!

What's the matter
with you, Evans?

It's got worm in it.
I'll eat weevils and maggots.

I'm damned if I'll eat red worms.

Good food thrown on the deck?
You're getting spoiled here.

- That's an offense. You know that.
- Yes.

A flogging offense, Evans.
You know that too, don't you?

- He sent you, didn't he?
- What's that?

Yes, sir. I know it.

So while we consider the best course
of action, pick it up!

It's fit. Eat it.

Eat it. That's an order.

You'll swing for this,
every man jack of you!

He's right. The penalty
for striking an officer is hanging.

And we're all in it.
We'll have to move fast.

Well, what shall we do?

There is only one thing to do.

Give the signal.

- When? Now?
- As soon as we can.

We'll go at eight bells.
Same as before, if you can remember.

Now, Morrison, get up on deck
and warn everyone you meet.

- Right.
- Wagstaffe, go and tell Dawlish.

- What about me then?
- You? Get up aloft.

And this time,
let's hear your cheer.

- Who's officer of the watch?
- Ponsonby.

Where's Scott-Padget?
Where is he?

Get out of here!

I want all officers confined
to their quarters...

under guard by marines.

Now listen to me, Evans.
I'm warning you.

You use that knife,
and you're a dead man.

All right, lads.
No excitement. No rushing on deck.

And wait for the cheer.

Now take some more, sir.

You'll stand better
what I've got to do.

Get ready.

Now grab him.

Look lively.
Put your backs into it.

All right, you there.
Start on number four gun.

Hip hip hooray!

What's happening there?

- Leave me alone!
- You shut your mouth, son.

Don't move, sir.

This means your death, Vizard.

Take him below.

Stand still!

Get out.

All right, Mr. Goss.
No one will come in here.

Stay on the door.

- What's he saying?
- It's about us...

being revolutionaries like him.

Well, he's important to the captain.
He wants to see me about him right away.

You got the petition?
All right. Take care of him.

We are revolutionaries, you know.
Only they done things properly.

- Who?
- The Frenchies with the guillotine.

For two days we've had this ship,
and Scott-Padget's still alive.

Wait.

Go now.

Come in.

You wish to see me, sir--
Mr. Crawford?

Sit down.

Where are we heading?

Oh, my committee aren't decided yet.

Caribbean, South America,
anywhere but England.

It's of England
I wish to speak to you.

The Frenchman, Colonel Giraud,
has vital information...

about an intended invasion.

- That's the truth.
- Invasion?

He knows the landing places
and the approximate date.

That much has been got out of him.

But he knows a great deal more.

He must be handed over
for further questioning at once.

Handed over? Who to?

Admiral Jackson is in command...

of the squadron blockading Rochefort.

Sail Defiant to Rochefort?
Is that what you're asking?

Sail her up to the squadron,
alongside English men-of-war?

Yes, I am asking you to do that...

if you care for the safety
of your country.

If you don't wish
to see her humiliated...

and overrun by Frenchmen, yes.

What will become of us?

How can I promise anything?

Their Lordships at the Admiralty
do not encourage mutiny.

It was never intended--
not this way.

Oh, for heaven's sake, man.
What way then?

A petition?

I see.

A bit late for petitions now.

All right.
We'll sail to Rochefort.

- But if we do, will you stand by us?
- I'll do my best for you--

all of you.

I'll submit all the facts in your favor.

But I warn you...

if any harm comes to a single officer--

A single officer, eh?

I understand.

Very sorry you lost the arm, sir.

So he's promised to speak for us
when the time comes.

- Can we trust him?
- Yes.

What, trust an officer?

To hell with England.
Let 'em have their invasion.

Stow it!
I've got a family back home.

I don't want these Frenchmen
tramping through my house.

Nor mine either.

Sergeant, watch him.
All our lives depend on this.

Well, for the present,
we're agreed.

We head for Rochefort
and the blockade squadron.

Aye. Agreed.

Sails on starboard bow!

That's the squadron, all right.

Deck there!
Flagship on the starboard bow!

- Strike topsail!
- Lively there!

Stand by to drop anchor!

Stand by to drop anchor!

Wagstaffe,
get your signals party ready.

Aye, aye.

Wait here.

You're mad.

You're out of your minds--
all of you--

dealing with an admiral.

Admiral Jackson’s an honest, seagoing man.

- He'll listen to us.
- Oh, yeah.

He'll agree to anything,
till we surrender.

- Then he'll hang the lot of us.
- No, he won't.

- I served under him in '89.
- All right. You'll see.

Mr. Crawford.

Vizard.

- Which of us goes to the flagship?
- None of us.

Why risk being clapped in irons?
I'll make them come to us.

Send over the anchor.

- Boat ahoy!
- Flagship!

Toss your oars up.

Sergeant.

Leave the prisoner under escort.
Take charge of the starboard gangway.

- Keep the prisoner below.
- Flagship's jolly boat alongside.

- Take me to the captain.
- This way, sir.

Harvey.

He arrived here with the prize ships
and stayed on with the admiral, sir.

I've brought an urgent dispatch
from the admiral.

Give that to me.

It's happened.
They've done it at Spithead.

The fleet mutinied.

The lords of the Admiralty
agreed to this?

Every item, sir.

- All you asked for.
- There's far more. Look, sir.

"Full pardon
for all those involved...

has been signed
by His Majesty the King."

- This changes things, don't it?
- It changes everything.

Well, lads.
You heard the news!

What happens to us?

I'll go to the admiral now...

and I'm sure I can promise you
everything you wish...

so long as I leave
an orderly ship behind me.

You shall have that, sir.

Sergeant Kneebone, I want all officers
set free at once. Bring them on deck.

You can't let 'em go, Vizard.

You're throwing it all away--
all we've worked for.

Jenkins, get down to the gun room,
release the midshipmen.

We're releasing the officers.
Release the officers.

Will it please you
to come on deck, sir?

- What's happened?
- The mutiny's over--all made right.

- Made right?
- In orders from the fleet, sir.

Take your hands off me.

You mutinous filth!

Don't think you can turn your coats
and be forgiven.

- It's not as easy as that.
- Mr. Scott-Padget...

I would advise you,
for your own sake, to say no more.

You're compounding the offense!
You're in it with them!

Well, your friends will be dealt with.
I'll see to that.

And I'll have you broken when Their
Lordships hear what I have to tell them!

You're under arrest.

You've done for us all, Evans.

What's it matter?
You all wanted him dead, didn't you?

You're as bad as him.

And between you,
you've finished the lot of us.

Give me a knife!

Get back!

We had everything,

and he took it from us!

- Let's go while we still got the chance.
- Let's get away while the fog's thick.

They're right, Vizard.

I want no sound.

We're going to weigh anchor
and make sail.

- Weigh anchor.
- Quiet now.

Anchor's aweigh!

Set the courses!

Course west-sou-west.

- Course west-sou-west.
- West-sou-west.

- Lookout, let's hear you!
- Sail on the starboard quarter!

Sail? Where?

I see only ships in anchor.

Deck there, sail is an enemy frigate!
And another!

The French are out!
The French!

Mr. Richmond, weigh anchor,
beat to quarters.

- Aye, aye, sir.
- The French are on the move, sir.

Make to all ships.
Prepare to engage the enemy.

The French have used the fog too.

They're heading straight
for our squadron.

Look. That red glow.

A fire ship, set on a true course
in the offshore breeze.

She'll take the flagship!

Straight in her path,
and they can't move in time.

Nor the others,
the way they're lying.

They're going to burn!
They'll burn!

Vizard, I'm striking no bargains
and making no promises.

This ship is in your hands.

There's nothing to stop you
running away, but the enemy is there.

- All hands muster aft!
- Lively there!

Sir.

Well, lads,
you see what's happening.

The French are out of Rochefort...

and we are the only English ship
under sail.

We must give time to the flagship
to weigh anchor.

We are going for that fire ship.

Sergeant, let's hear your drums
beat to quarters.

Mr. Ponsonby, bring her about.

- Steer for the fire ship.
- Aye, aye, sir.

Come on, every man of you!

My God, sir. Look.

Bring your starboard guns to bear.

- Hit her with everything you've got.
- Aye, aye, sir.

Steady.

Fire.

Get the wounded away!

- Open fire!
- Fire!

Get this fire out of midships!
Fire party!

Fire!

Mr. Ponsonby, we'll go under
the bows of the fire ship.

Wait! Hold your fire!

Hold your fire!

- Ease your helm.
- Aye, aye, sir.

Steady.

Steady as she goes, sir.

- Hard a-starboard.
- Hard a-starboard, sir.

- Stand by with grappling irons.
- Stand by with grappling irons!

Now!

We've got her!

She's coming around!

They've done it!

- Let go of grappling irons.
- Let go of grappling irons!

All larboard guns
to bear on the fire ship.

All larboard guns
to bear on the fire ship!

Fire!

The flagship's under way, gentlemen,
and into the fight.

The French are running, sir,
back into port!

Look there, sir!

They're a good crew, sir.

Signal from the flagship, sir.

"Thank you, Defiant,
for swift and honorable action."

Thank you for swift and honorable action.

No mutineers...

on board this ship now, sir.

Bring her about, Mr. Ponsonby.

- We join the squadron.
- Aye, aye, sir.

Stand by to go about!

Thank you, Mr. Crawford.

-- English --