Billy Budd

Seventeen ninety-seven...

...the year of the mutinies of the fleet at Spithead and at the Nore...

...and of the continuing war with republican France.

August the 16th, His Majesty's frigate, Avenger, on a wartime cruise...

...with orders to reinforce the British squadron off the coast of Spain.

John Claggart, master-at-arms, royal navy.

Edwin Fairfax Vere, post captain, royal navy.

The Dansker, sailmaker.

Philip Seymour, first lieutenant.

Julian Ratcliffe, second lieutenant.

Steven Wyatt, gunnery officer.

Enoch Jenkins, maintopman.

Squeak, assistant to Mr. Claggart.

Alan Payne, maintopman.

William O'Daniel, maintopman.

Arnold Talbot, maintopman.

Neil Kincaid, maintopman.

Alfred Hallam, captain of marines.

On the same day, at the same hour...

...the merchant ship, Rights of Man, out of Dundee...

...bound for the West Indies with a cargo of manufactured goods.

Nathaniel Graveling, ship's master.

Amos Leonard, first mate.

Charles Mathews, merchant seaman.

Billy Budd, merchant seaman.

- Down a little. - Down a little, sir.

Weren't it better to heave to, sir? She's a man-of-war.

Not an enemy, is she?

No, sir, she's British.

Her name's the Rights of Man , sir.

It's a dangerous name for a vessel in this day and age.

- Is she heaving to? - No, sir.

Aye. It's worse than any enemy.

If she's British, I'll not heave to.

If she's French, she only wants to sink us.

Every seaman leads his life in the expectation of being sunk.

If she's British, she'll want to take my best men from me, and I'll not stand for that.

Hoist the topgallants.

Hoist the topgallants!

Hey, Budd.

Billy Budd, give us a song.

They calls me Hanging Johnny

Away, boys, away

They says I hangs for money

All hang, boys, hang

At first I hanged my Sally

Away, boys, away

And then I hanged my family

She's hoisting more canvas.

- They appear to be singing, sir. - Yes.

Are they so ignorant they cannot understand our purpose?

Oh, I doubt that it's ignorance which motivates their actions, Mr. Ratcliffe.

Captain Hallam.

- Sir? - We all envy your word of command.

Tell them to heave to, if you will, with my compliments.

Ta.

Away, boys, away

Captain's compliments...

- ...will you heave to? - Captain, they're ordering us to heave to.

There can be no mistaking their meaning now.

That don't prevent me being a bit hard of hearing, do it?

- Fall off. - Fall off, sir.

I'll get the best I can out of her.

She appears to be falling off to make a fair wind of it, sir.

You sure she's not a Frenchman in disguise, sir?

Nothing so adventurous, I'm afraid, Ratcliffe.

Her refusal to heave to proves she's one of ours.

But I will be obeyed.

Send a shot across her bows.

We're at war, Mr. Seymour.

Fire the bow chaser!

Well, I can't pretend to be blind too, can I?

Back the main yard, Mr. Mate.

Backing the main yard, sir?

There's no avoiding it, man. Get up on the focs'le.

If I spit now, I'd get him fair and square, man.

Why do you waste it on him? He's not so bad.

There's no difference between any of them.

Cast off forward.

And what do you want, then?

Down oars.

All together.

All hands on deck.

All hands right over to the focs'le.

Budd. Billy Budd. Get up aloft again. Maybe they won't see you.

Men lined up already, captain?

There's no doubt about your intentions.

Is that why you failed to obey our order?

I never thought I'd see the day when I'd pray for a French sail on the horizon.

A French sail? Why?

Then the royal navy could do its duty for a change...

...protect our merchant ships instead of preying on them.

You have ideas of your own, captain.

I'm not alone in that.

What's this man's record?

- Good. - He looks a likely man.

What, with the whole of the Nore and the mutiny?

Who's the likely man now, lieutenant? Aye, there was officers killed and all.

Where did you hear this?

Aye, it's common knowledge.

We're not long out of port. The mainland's buzzing with it.

Read the newspapers. They're talking about reforms in the House of Commons.

You know what that means.

It means the reforms are nearly a century overdue.

- Who is that? - Billy. Billy Budd.

According to the rights of war...

...a man-of-war can impress a seaman from any other vessel.

- Do you understand that, Billy? - Aye, captain.

You also understand there's nothing I can do?

Aye, captain.

You understand too much too well.

Are you at least sorry to be leaving?

Aye, that I am, captain. It's a good ship, this.

You helped make it good.

A man-of-war, you'll find, is different.

- Different, sir? - Aye, Billy.

Do your work well, keep your mouth shut, except at meal times.

It's not as it is here.

Now, there's a good lad. Go forward and get your gear.

Aye, captain.

My compliments to your captain.

Tell him I regret I do not command a faster ship.

Cast off forward.

Take that oar.

Up together.

God go with you, Billy Budd...

...for it's a fact that you go with God.

Goodbye to you all.

- Goodbye to you too, old Rights of Man. - What do you mean by that, boy?

Nothing, sir.

- All that trouble for only one man. - Must be a reason, sir.

Oh, yes, I can imagine the reason...

...knowing the temper of that vessel's master.

- Well, Seymour, our choice better be good. - Get a rope down.

Do you swear to abide by the Articles of War, to obey orders...

...and, if need be, to lay down your life for king and country?

Aye, sir.

Like that?

- Say "I swear." - I swear.

- Age? - I don't know, sir.

- You don't know your age? - That is, sir, I'm not quite sure.

I think 17, 19, or....

Or....

Eighteen?

Or 15 or 14?

- Place of birth? - Please, sir, I don't know that either.

You don't know your age or where you were born?

I was found one morning in a silk-lined basket...

...hanging on the knocker of a man's door in Bristol.

Silk-lined?

I take it then you're....

- A bastard, sir? - Aye.

Aye.

Sign.

Master-at-arms.

Claggart, our new recruit, William Budd.

I suppose that is your name?

Aye, sir.

You look sturdy enough.

What was your station aboard?

I was a merchant seaman, sir.

We took turns at doing everything.

You'll have a station here.

Maintop, Jenkins' watch.

Squeak, take him below, assign him a hammock...

...show him where to stow his gear.

- Aye, sir. - Thank you, sir.

Well, life's full of surprises, I always say.

And the better for it, Captain Hallam.

Here, mate.

- Back here? - Yeah.

This is your hammock.

All hands on deck to witness ship's punishment.

Best put down your bag, Budd. It'll only be a matter of minutes.

Dansker, look after Budd.

Boatswain...

...do your duty.

Very well, boatswain.

Release the man.

Mr. Ferriman...

...you will see him to sick berth.

Ship's company, dismiss.

Away there, mate.

What was his crime?

God only knows, young man.

You mean you don't know what he did?

Flogging...

...is the only solution to every problem.

I warrant even the culprit himself doesn't know.

It was just his turn.

What is it, Budd?

Did they not indulge in flogging on the Rights of Man?

No, sir.

All right, Budd.

You'll keep your hammock properly lashed in this manner.

Never get caught with your bag out of order.

You wouldn't be wanting to find yourself on ship's report.

Like the lad who was flogged.

- Why was he flogged? - It could've been for one of many reasons.

You mean you don't know?