Authors: C.C. Humphreys
Absolute Honour (45 page)
In the first novel in the series,
Jack Absolute,
my hero witnessed a production of the play. During it he mused on how Sheridan, to whom he had told the story one drunken
night, ‘had usurped his youthful folly for a romantic comedy, when the original was more of a farce and, in the end, almost
a tragedy.’ The one word I regret now is ‘almost’. But I only had the vaguest notions then of how this new novel would develop.
It was one of the main reasons I had to return to the very beginning of Jack’s life and tell his whole story – including the
episode that became
The Rivals.
An audience at the play (and I have seen it twice in the last two years, in London and New York) would spot the similarities
– the baronet’s son assuming the role of an impoverished Ensign to woo a young lady addicted to romantic novels; the pugnacious
Irishman; the domineering father trying to force his son to marry whom he chooses … and
choosing the very woman Jack wants to marry! I have had great fun blending, and distinguishing, play and novel. Jack does
take the
nom de coeur
of Beverley, Fagg is his servant, Sir James is undoubtedly modelled on Sir Anthony Absolute in all his bellowing tyranny.
And close readers may even spot the odd line – ‘Thirsty work on the roads!’; ‘Their regular hours stupefy!’ and, especially,
‘This is what comes … of reading!’ I hope all this is considered homage and not plagiarism!
The episode Sheridan steals for his comedy (and I’ve stolen back – did I mention how weird it gets?) turns into the tragedy
within these pages. I always hope that Jack grows with every outing, his experiences shaping the man. I want each book to
be
about
something and this one, as the title suggests, is about honour. If men of the age were obsessed by it, living by it and very
often dying for it, they still debated it fiercely – this ‘fine, imaginary notion’, this ‘shadow’, as Addison had it in his
play,
Cato.
Jack is part of that debate; he assumes one thing, learns something else – perhaps that honour has a price that it is often
very high indeed.
Research for this book, as ever, was partly on my feet. I did get to Bath, spending several days with one of my editors, the
tremendous Rachel Leyshon. She not only lives there, but lives in Gay Street where, at this very period, one of my main sources,
Tobias Smollett, began the great
Humphrey Clinker
whose pages I have pillaged for details of the town and its ways. It was not the only coincidence – while there I was browsing
a theatre history in the library only to discover that an actor in the Theatre Royal company of 1760/1761 was one Mr Harper
– this is
after
I knew that Fanny Harper (his wife) would have to be in the company there!
I didn’t, annoyingly, get back to Rome. But Smollett was again very useful with his
Travels through France and Italy,
about manners, food and, especially, odours – Johnson didn’t satirize him as Dr Smellfungus for nothing. And the
collection
The Stuart Court in Rome
edited by Edward Corp was excellent. For all things Jacobite, Robert Louis Stevenson was my benchmark; and I was thrilled
when, on my way back from Bath, I stopped at the Llandoger Trow pub on the old Bristol Docks, where they used to pay out the
prize money (and where I used to drink when I was at the Old Vic Theatre), to discover that it was considered the model for
the Admiral Benbow tavern in
Treasure Island.
As readers of my other novels will know, I love to get to the battlefields, walking Saratoga for
Jack Absolute,
climbing the cliffs at Quebec for
The Blooding of Jack Absolute.
Alas, I couldn’t get to Spain and Portugal for this one (I plead a baby boy at home!) but that was only part of my problem.
The war fought there is little written about, at least in English, warranting a mere page and half in Fortescue’s
History of the British Army.
But this campaign was where Jack’s regiment, the Sixteenth Dragoons, fought and where John Burgoyne made his reputation for
the dawn assault on Valencia de Alcántara. The Sixteenth’s regimental history gave a little more detail – and I apologise
to any descendents of Lieutenant Maitland for stealing his heroics for my man, both there and at Villa Velha. After that,
it was down to maps and imagination – and the Internet, of course, that wonderful resource with its myriad photographs of
the various scenes. Speaking of names, I have also changed the name of the Irish regiment involved in the attempted mutiny
to Traherne’s. I’m sure the stalwarts of the real Blayney’s would have got up to no such shenanigans.
As with Sheridan, I was very excited to be able to do another tribute in this book – to C. S. Forester’s
Hornblower.
Though I admire Patrick O’Brian, I do find some of the jargon impenetrable – and decided to therefore attempt a slight pastiche,
making Jack find it impenetrable too.
Naval Warfare in the Age of Sail
by Bernard Ireland, and N.A.M Rodger’s
The Wooden World
were priceless resources, as was
the hefty dictionary
The Sailor’s Word Book.
For privateers, the contemporary
Voyages and Cruises of Commodore Walker
was astonishing in its detail. I think/hope it’s all accurate but this is such a well-known field I’m sure one of you will
write to let me know that I’ve braced the mizzen sail to larboard when I should have shorten’d afore!
Other aspects: for grenades, I found a marvellous period manual
Royal Engineers Field Instructions.
And my cavalry manoeuvres and drill were superbly set out in a
Field Exercise for Gentleman and Yeoman Cavalry by An Officer of the Light Dragoons.
Red Hugh’s cures are genuine folk remedies for fevers from the period – those spiders must have been much employed! As for
his rendering of men unconscious –pressing the wrist at a certain point – this is a technique from Akido which I have studied
(but never perfected). Japanese, I know. But I tend to believe that warriors the world over know the same tricks. For his
language, I have returned to plays and discovered an original copy in the British Library of a work by Sheridan’s father,
Thomas, entitled
The Brave Irishman.
As to the name itself – my editor was informed that McClune would have been a surname of an Ulster Protestant and thus an
unlikely candidate for a Jacobite assassin. Fortunately, I did not have to shed his mellifluous moniker – I simply re-checked
my
Family Names in Ireland
to confirm that McClune is ‘to be distinguished from MacCloon which is an Ulster variant’ while McClune is an ancient (‘Dalcassian’)
and thus Catholic – name from Ballymaclune, County Clare.
Once again, I have many people to thank. Since much of the plot hinged on triumphing over a left-handed swordsman, the time
I spent at the Haverstock Fencing Club, invited by their secretary Jackie Harvey and talking to countless fencers, was priceless.
I am always indebted to my wife, Aletha, for good advice and help, and to my son, Reith Frederic, for starting to sleep through
the night, as well as
Piers Johnson for giving me shelter during the day to write. My agents at ICM were their usual calm and thorough selves, especially
Kate Jones and, in America, Liz Farrell, who has broken me through there at last.
Rachel Leyshon was, as always, a great copy-editor and, this time, a great guide to Bath as well. I should also again mention
my Canadian publisher, the ever enthusiastic Kim McArthur and her wonderful team of Ann Ledden, Janet Harron and Taryn Manias.
While, in the UK, Susan Lamb, Juliet Ewers, Genevieve Pegg and Angela McMahon are equally brilliant and tireless.
But a special thanks must go to the man to whom this book is dedicated. Jon Wood is not only a terrific editor of the words,
he is also a tireless advocate of my work whose support and friendship is one of the main reasons I can now write for a living.
Perhaps though, at the end of this novel especially, I should again acknowledge a man who has given me so much pleasure and
inspiration – Richard Brinsley Sheridan. Your health, sir, wherever you are, and … oh yes, thanks for the plot!
C.C. Humphreys
London, December 2005
AN ORION EBOOK
First published in Great Britain in 2006 by Orion Books.
First published in ebook in 2011 by Orion Books.
Copyright © 2006 C. C. Humphreys
The moral right of C. C. Humphreys to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN: 978 1 4091 3858 7
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