Hamps to Wilts

ortsmouth has been a naval base of one sort or another for about two thousand years, give or take, though it really became a going concern on a large scale in the late 17th century, and is now a major Royal Naval establishment, the sort of place where aircraft carriers and the like are parked. The older parts of the dockyard, mostly dating to the early-to-late 18th century, have been to a great extent preserved through long and continuous use and the Royal Naval Museum occupies one of the old warehouses (1763); its door faces HMS Victory (laid down 1759, launched 1765, commissioned 1778), permanently drydocked but still in commission, maintained as a living museum, doing homage to Vice Admiral Horatio, Viscount Nelson KB, Duke of Bronte, whose flagship she was at Trafalgar, where in 1805 the Admiral orchestrated the greatest naval victory of the Napoleonic Wars, and in so doing was mortally wounded by a French musket-shot while standing on his quarterdeck. He died below on the orlop deck, and his body was preserved in a cask of brandy for the voyage back to England, where he was given a state funeral that in size and solemn pomp rivaled that of kings. He was self-aggrandizing, vain, showy and something of a prig, and his affair with Emma, Lady Hamilton (quite his equal in the vanity class) was the subject of a great deal of talk both malicious and envious. For all that, he was a fearless and inspirational leader, and his performance, and that of his subordinates , was one of the keys to the vital English dominion of the seas during the long war against the forces of the fellow the British styled The Tyrant Bonaparte.

The Age of Nelson has inspired many writers, and at the top of the list stands the late Patrick O'Brian, whose Aubrey-Maturin novel sequence (called without blush the Aubreiad by many) has provided countless hours of pleasure for the many who have had the great fortune to read the twenty novels, from 'Master and Commander" to "Blue at the Mizzen". O'Brian's mastery at recreating that bygone world both afloat and ashore, its language, customs, culture and people, together with his ability to explore the nature of friendship, love and adventure in a style compared to that of Austen brings together in readership a diverse company of men and women of discernment and intelligence, and any gathering devoted to exploring the world of O'Brian's works is a special one.

uch was the weekend of September 21 - 23, 2001: under the able and enthusiastic direction of Colin White, Britain's recognized authority on things Nelsonian ably seconded by Ms. Carolyne Heneghan and her staff at the Museum, a diverse and congenial group of O'Brian enthusiasts and experts from both sides of the Atlantic was treated to a weekend of lectures, tours, music and fine fellowship amidst surroundings that would have been well-known to Lucky Jack Aubrey as well as to his role model, Horatio Nelson.

As mentioned previously, Greg Hill (on the far left, another member of the Texas Contingent, which included the redoubtable Dr. Anthony Gary Brown) was staying in the room next to ours; he, the Association Football fan, had gone up to Manchester the previous day to see United flay some unfortunate opponent and was driven down late in the afternoon. While he was in transit we had walked down to a decent shopping precinct to get batteries for the camera and some t-shirts for me - our concept of the climate we would encounter was a bit off the mark, alas, and I was heavy on unneccessary warm things and badly needing more warm-weather kit. Sharon, naturally, was suitably coated and sweatered the entire time.

The O'Brian Weekend opened that evening in the Royal Naval Museum's Sailing Navy Gallery, with wine and canapes followed by a fascinating concert, as the Cleyndert String Quartet performed selections of music featured in the novels, interspersed with readings by Mrs. Lauren Farnhill and Mr. Tim Stokes of selected passages chosen by Gunroom members, about Jack Aubrey and Stephen Maturin's music-making. It was all quite pleasant, as you may imagine; all that was missing were little gilt chairs and liveried servants, and a view of Port Mahon. Of course, our view from the Museum's front door was the splendid sight of HMS Victory and the old Dockyard stretching out behind. We met a charming group of attendees, and were pleased to find that several other Americans had chanced the crossing to be present; there were nearly forty of us from all places, as memory serves.

ext morning, after a hearty George breakfast - every breakfast we ate was hearty, come to think on it - we took our leisurely stroll to the Dockyard gate, passed through the usual tight security, and made our way to the Museum again for the morning lecture, given by Geoff Hunt, RMSA, the superb painter of marine subjects whose evocative and highly accurate works have adorned the covers of O'Brian's Aubrey-Maturin novels for the past decade and more, together with other works of fiction and nonfiction (a reproduction of his "Ionian Mission" cover was used on the front of the Weekend announcements and schedules); many of the original O'Brian cover paintings were hung on the wall adjacent to the stairway which led up to our lecture space, and we all spent time studying these gems as we passed up and down over the course of the weekend. We'd met Geoff in the course of the Smithsonian O'Brian event a year previous, and were glad to see and hear from him again. After coffee, we were treated to Surgeon Vice Admiral Sir James Watt's enlightening presentation on the Eighteenth Century Naval Surgeon, with Dr. Lind as its centerpiece; Sharon buttonholed Sir James afterwards, asking for a copy of his talk with a view towards aiding her Epidemiology students in the future.

Following a buffet lunch, Dr. Michael Duffy of Exeter University spoke on the state of Eighteenth Century Naval Intelligence, posing the question of just exactly what did Stephen Maturin know and when did he know it? Or did he know it at all? This food for thought accompanied a final tea, followed by a VIP tour of the Victory herself, from top to bottom and back again. We remembered to refrain from standing upright once we were below, of course. And in the evening we returned to the Victory's lower gundeck, nattily attired, for a formal dinner served on the hanging tables between the guns where the crew once partook of their wittles; we, of course, weren't obliged to bang on our mess-kids until the chief of our mess brought our rations back from the galley, but instead were served by an efficient and discreet waitstaff. Following Grace from the Revd Mr. Peter Wadsworth, Rural Dean of Gosport, President of the Mess Colin White made some well-chosen opening remarks, and after supping on such delicacies as Ashgrove Trout, Beef Aubrey and Chocolate Surprise, with excellent wines with each course, the cheeses (untoasted) and Port made their appearance, along with a round of toasts. The Loyal Toast was given by Victory's CO, Lt. Cmder. Frank Nowosielski - we drank it sitting, Navy-fashion, of course - and a toast, with appreciation, to Patrick O'Brian was offered by Dr. Campbell MacMurray OBE, the Director of the Naval Museum. A particularly kind gesture was a toast to us Americans who had braved whatever perils to come there. And then, to our pleased astonishment, Colin offered a toast to Sharon and me as honeymooners, a toast accompanied by the gift of a bottle of rather nice - Pol Roger - Champagne! Rarely do I find myself speechless, but this time I managed little more than a murmur of thanks. We'd been in the UK less than a week, and had already garnered a number of unforgettable moments, and this one leads the list still. There are honeymoons, and there are very special honeymoons indeed.

A soundly-slept night and another of the George's excellent breakfasts prepared us for the final day of the Weekend, which opened with a lecture on Jack Aubrey's ships by Brian Lavery of the National Maritme Museum, a scholar and author of the first rank, and a recognized authority on the subject of Nelson's Navy; his talk was followed by coffee and then Mr. Brian Patterson of the Royal Dockyard Historical Society took us on a walking tour of the old Royal Dockyard. For security reasons photography inside the dockyard itself was discouraged, but just outside the College Road gate is a memorial statue of Robert Falcon Scott RN, better known as simply Scott of the Antarctic.

fter a jaunt round the yard we returned to the Museum for a sit-down three-course meal and, replete, a final lecture from Colin White on Jack Aubrey's battles and the Royal Navy in the Napoleonic Wars. This was followed by tea and closing remarks from Colin, and our Weekend had come to a close. Before leaving I presented Colin with a Texas Seaport Museum cap which I hope he has found occasion to don from time to time. It was difficult to make that final journey through the dockyard gate after such an enjoyable three days, and many is the time we've wished to return, since the O'Brian Weekend is now a regular feature. In the meantime we fondly recall the sights, sounds, tastes, and most especially the people we were privileged to meet there. And next time we might have the time to visit HMS Warrior, the first steam warship of the Royal Navy, berthed just outside the dockyard and seen every day we were there.

That night it was back to packing the suitcases, and next morning we bade a reluctant farewell to the George and its most excellent proprietors, Jo and Ken, with whom we hope to stay again soon. We then trundled our luggage (heavier with a few choice items from the Museum Gift Shop, of course) into a taxi and then went a couple of blocks back toward what was once Portsmouth Hard, unloaded onto the pavement near the Keppel's Head and The Ship Anson (seen on the right) and spent a good chunk of the morning hiring a car from National; the unforeseen difficulty turned out to be the luggage, which would not all fit into the sedan with automatic transmission we had planned for, and so we were obliged to take an estate wagon - station wagon to us Merkins - with stick shift but just enough room to cram all our bags into the back. Having thus managed this next crucial step in our journey, and putting Sharon's manual transmission skills to the test, we consulted our maps and proceeded generally northwesterly, to the M27 and then the A36 to Salisbury and points north, hoping to end the day in or at least near Bath. The distance was not so great for those of us used to the wide open spaces of Texas, but getting used to driving in the UK is not all that easy; one becomes accustomed to being on the left-hand side, the interesting stoplights, the blood pressure-increasing roundabouts and zebra crossings and such, but one of these days someone in the Roads Ministry will figure out that putting up signs telling one just what road one is on would be most helpful.

Next: Spires and Baths

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