This request was so incongruous, after all she had witnessed, that Georgiana very nearly protested she had not had anything to do with the ship missing stays, but then thought that clearly Matthew knew this and had other reasons for wishing for her presence there. Perhaps he wished to speak of dinner, although it seemed an odd time to do so. She therefore met him near the companion-ladder and went down with him.
It was only when they were in the sleeping cabin that he sighed and said, “Men detest the notion of an informer, so much so that those such as Grant, whose life might very well be bettered and would in no way be harmed by telling me of what happened just now, will not do so, even if I ask him directly. Even when the ship struck ice last winter, I could get nothing but the vaguest recollections of what had happened, immediately after the event. So I realise I put you in an awkward position when I ask if you saw what happened, that led to the ship missing stays.”
“I do not see it as awkward at all,” Georgiana said. “Surely no one could think I have greater allegiance to anyone on board this ship above you.”
She proceeded to tell him of all she had seen, and of precisely what Lieutenant Holmes had said, to confirm when he asked that she had not heard any of the preparations that even she, a newcomer to this nautical world, knew were involved in tacking or wearing the ship. When she had done so, he shook his head and said, “Were Holmes merely obstinate, or merely incompetent, I might be able to deal with him. He is both, however, and he puts all of our lives at risk because of it. Thank God this did not happen on a lee shore or in battle, although I suppose in those instances, I would have been on deck and able to prevent such a thing.”
“I believe Grant did all he could,” Georgiana said. “He was very upset over what happened.”
“He would make twice the officer Holmes is. It was Grant who ordered the boat lowered, was it not?”
Georgiana confirmed that it was, and Matthew promised he would speak to the young man, so as to praise his actions in a difficult situation. First, however, he must speak to Holmes, and it was clear by his countenance that this was not a conference he was eager to have.
“I wish to use the great cabin for this,” he said. “It would not be nearly the same to speak to him here. I shall invite the men of the embassy to go on deck and have a glass of Sillery, with the weather so fine. Will you help me, if any of them are reluctant?”
Georgiana promised that she would, and after Hawke had been summoned to bring up the Sillery and have it ready on deck, Matthew entered the great cabin and made his invitation. There were no reluctant men, however; even the greatest landlubbers among them could tell something out of the ordinary had happened, and must have understood that Matthew presently needed all those trappings of power commensurate with his position on the ship. With a great deal of cheer – perhaps false, perhaps not, for Matthew had acquired some very fine Sillery in Gibraltar – they left the cabin to make their way on deck. Georgiana followed them, after a sympathetic look to her husband for what he must do.
Matthew had managed to get the men out of his cabin, but this did not equate to privacy – there was hardly such a thing to be had on a ship of this size. Therefore, although everyone genteel on deck attempted to ignore that it was happening (the seamen had no such qualms), it was difficult to ignore the sound of raised voices – mostly Matthew’s, although Lieutenant Holmes was froward enough for a few interjections – coming from the great cabin.
The men of the embassy, therefore, made a great deal of cheerful remarks regarding the weather and the Sillery, until the voices within the great cabin quieted, and Mr. Grant’s presence was requested there. Georgiana watched him go and wondered how it would wear on poor Matthew, to go halfway around the world with such a man as Holmes as his second lieutenant.
Chapter 12
As the Caroline continued south, the weather grew still warmer and drier, so that Georgiana took to wearing the lightest of her muslin dresses and went more often to the quarterdeck, where the breeze made the air less stifling than it was in the cabin. Therefore, she had often observed the ceremony of noon, when the master would gather around him his mates and the midshipmen, and they would all look to the sun with their sextants, note the time, and report it to Matthew.
Today, however, Mr. Travis looked to Matthew and said, “Noon, sir, and almost a’top the line.”
“Very well, Mr. Travis. I expect Neptune shall hold court here this evening.”
Any further conversation between them was drowned out by the boatswain piping the hands to dinner, their feet thundering across the deck and down below. Georgiana did not understand how they could stand to eat their dinner so early, and was glad the officers kept to a later dining hour, although it was still earlier than she had been used to on land.
This was one of the evenings in which she and Matthew dined alone in their little cabin, and when they were very nearly finished, lingering over the Sage Derby – this and a few other of the delicacies her brother had sent reminded Georgiana of home, and she had hoarded them for these private dinners so as to make them last longer – she asked Matthew what he had meant about Neptune holding court.
“Ah, yes, we have a ceremony that is performed when the ship crosses the equator, and the Caroline will have done so by now. You shall see when we go on deck. Oh, and do not wear a bonnet. A parasol may do, if the sun is still strong.”
Georgiana thought it must be quite a ceremony, if even females must keep their heads uncovered, but she was entirely unprepared for what she encountered on deck. She and Matthew took their places on the quarterdeck and were joined there by the officers and men of the embassy, as the seamen crowded in forward.
With a great deal of boisterous noise, one of the seamen came up from the side of the ship, wearing a wooden crown and a great long beard made of rope, with a trident in his hand. He was accompanied by another man, dressed as a woman with a wig made of rope, and some other ridiculously dressed companions. They were explained by Matthew as being Neptune, his wife Amphitrite, his assistant Badger-Bag, and the rest of his court, and they commenced dancing about merrily and splashing a good deal of water around them.
“All ye, who ‘as not been across the line, come for’ard an’ be redeem’d!” Neptune called out, stamping his trident on the deck.
Georgiana felt Matthew’s hand upon her shoulder, urging her to step forward.
“Me?” she all but squeaked.
“Yes you, dearest, unless you have somehow neglected to tell me of another time you crossed the equator,” he murmured.
Georgiana stepped forward, as did several of the men from the embassy. She felt, however, that much of the ship was looking at her, and soon enough Neptune came before her, bowing so deeply his beard flounced against the deck, to the laughter of all. Georgiana gave him a reasonable curtsey in return, her face hot at having the attention of the whole ship’s company focused upon her, although she did not think anything too vexing could happen to her, the captain’s wife.
The Caroline was comprised mostly of comparably wealthy seamen; many of them had followed Matthew for years and had been with him through the capture of many prizes, so pewter was more common upon their dinner tables than wood, and it was a fine pewter cup that Neptune was handed, by Badger-Bag. Neptune looked over to the captain for his acquiescence, then proceeded to pour a small quantity of water upon the crown of Georgiana’s head.
She coughed and spluttered as the salty water ran down her face, and listened to the ship’s company laugh at her predicament. Georgiana felt, now, that she must not show herself to be delicate about what had happened to her, and in truth it was not nearly so bad as what she had been imagining. So she looked up at Neptune, then curtsied deeper than she ever had before – even when she had been presented to Queen Charlotte – and the men roared with laughter, applauding cheerfully as she stepped back toward Matthew and watched Neptune approach the first of the men in the embassy.
“You did well,” Matthew said, lookin
g amused, and handing Georgiana his handkerchief so she could mop at her face. “They will love you even more than they already do, for it.”
“Is this why you told me not to wear a bonnet?” she asked.
“It was. Some men choose to pay a tribute in lieu of a more watery redemption when they cross the line, but I was promised it would be a very little bit of water, and it is better luck to be doused.”
“We should pay the tribute, regardless,” she said. “I must assume it goes towards entertainment for Neptune’s court, when next they go ashore.”
“Indeed it does. They will be very pleased.”
“Where is Kelly?” Georgiana asked, glancing about the deck, where Mrs. McClare waited nervously for her turn in the festivities. The men of the embassy had now been lightly doused, and Neptune and his court had turned on the midshipmen, who faced a far worse fate than Georgiana had, for it seemed they were to be doused with a bucketful of water, then shaved with naught but grease and a metal cask hoop.
“I do not see her – is she shirking her part in this?” he asked.
“I should hope not!” Georgiana exclaimed, for if she was to be doused, her maid must certainly be as well. She put a hand up to her wet, flattened hair and said, “I would rather put a bonnet on now, for my hair must look a fright. Perhaps she anticipated me and went down to our cabin.”
“Come, I will go with you.”
“Can you leave the ceremony?”
“For a quarter-hour or so, I can,” he said, offering his arm and glancing over to where Rigby and Egerton were standing, giving a nod and receiving two in return.
Matthew went down the companion-ladder before her, but before he was halfway down, he shouted, “What the devil is this?” and leapt down the remainder of the stairs.
Georgiana, in an action she would later think of as impetuous and useless – for there was nothing she could do to aid in some manner of shipboard emergency taking place below-decks – followed quickly after him. She immediately found the cause for his alarm, which was that John Taylor was kneeling on the prostrate body of Lieutenant Holmes, and thoroughly pummelling him with his fists.
With everyone else on deck watching the ceremony, it was left to Matthew to yell at Taylor to cease what he was about at once, and when this resulted in some hesitation on Taylor’s part but not a complete cessation, to bodily haul the seaman off his lieutenant. Holmes stood, brushed absently at the blood flowing from his nose, and proceeded to launch into a litany of curses aimed at Taylor. It was as he was drawing a breath to continue his tirade that there came a sniffle from the shadows, between two of the gun carriages.
“Moll!” Georgiana exclaimed, and went to kneel beside where her maid was sitting on the deck, with her arms wrapped around her knees. Moll was bleeding from a cut on her mouth and had a generally dishevelled appearance, and Georgiana’s heart sank for it.
The discovery of a third party involved in the altercation changed the tenor of the scene immediately. Matthew ordered both men to stand before him without moving, then looked expectantly at Georgiana. Of course, she realised, it would be better for her to ask Moll which of them it was who had attacked her – for it was clear enough one of them had. Georgiana was a woman, and although she was every bit as furious as Matthew appeared, she could set aside her anger and question Moll with sympathy. Let Matthew preserve his fury for the punishment that must certainly be meted out over this.
“Kelly,” she asked, gently, “did one of these men attack you?”
“Yes, milady,” Moll whispered.
“Which one was it, that attacked you?” Georgiana asked, although she felt certain already whom it was Moll would name.
“It was Lieutenant Holmes, milady.”
In a new spasm of anger, Georgiana glared at Lieutenant Holmes and found him glaring back at her, a gaze so filled with hatred, Georgiana knew at once that she had played an unwitting role in what had happened here. She had been the informer; she had told Matthew of how the ship had come to miss stays, and Holmes must surely have understood that the intelligence came from her. He hated her, most intensely by the look of it, but rather than attack her, which would have been too rash and too foolish even for Holmes – to attack his captain’s wife, a baronet’s wife, and the niece of two earls – he had gone after her maid.
Matthew once again ordered both men to remain still and walked over to the companion-ladder just long enough to put his head above the deck and call out some orders. In moments, several marines stamped down the ladder, awaiting his command, which was: “Lieutenant Holmes is to be confined to his cabin until further notice. I will have two guards on the door at all times. And take Taylor to the bilboes.” He turned to Georgiana and spoke more softly: “You had best take her to the cabin.”
Georgiana encouraged Moll to stand with her and walk the short distance to the sleeping cabin – the great cabin felt too large for such a time, and she did not know if any of the men of the embassy had remained within there, avoiding the ceremony. Once there, she encouraged Moll to sit, and was concerned by the quiet, timid way in which she did so. Georgiana poured a little water into the basin on the wash-table, wetted a piece of flannel, and used it to dab at the cut on Moll’s mouth, vaguely aware as she did it that it felt strange to be waiting on her maid in this way, but that it felt right; it was the sort of comfort any female should give to another female who had been afflicted with what Moll had suffered on this evening. Just what that was, Georgiana was yet unsure. Moll appeared little injured aside from the cut on her mouth, and Georgiana prayed Holmes had not gotten too far in his actions before Taylor must have come to Moll’s defence.
“You was right, milady, to warn me off flirtin’,” Moll murmured, when Georgiana had finished and was rinsing the flannel in the basin. “He said I was a flirt and should’a come to expect some man’d take me to task for it.”
“No, Moll,” Georgiana said firmly. “You must not let yourself think that. What he did – whatever he did – was not justified by a little harmless flirting. No other man on this ship attempted such evils, even all those lower than his rank.”
“He didn’t rape me – I know you must be wonderin’. He was wantin’ to, and much as I tried to fight ‘im, I think he would’ve. I never was so a’feared in my life, ‘till Taylor came along,” Moll said. “Sorry, milady, I shouldn’ta said rape. I’m sure you high-born ladies have some other way to say it that’s more genteel an’ all that.”
“We do not, and even if we did I would not wish for you to concern yourself over such things. You have had enough to worry you this evening, Moll. I am only glad Taylor came along when he did.”
Here Moll, who had been far more subdued than her usual self but otherwise fairly composed, considering her ordeal, burst into tears. “What’s to happen to him? Why’d the captain say he was to be put in the bilboes? Taylor didn’t do nothin’ but help me!”
“I do not know, but I will ask Commodore Stanton. He is very just; he must have had a reason for what he did.”
+++
Georgiana did not have a chance to ask Commodore Stanton about the bilboes until much later in the evening, when they retired for bed. While the merriment on deck had continued, undoubtedly with some degree of curiosity by all as to what was happening below decks that had necessitated the ongoing attention of the captain and several marines, Georgiana had continued to look after Moll, and the captain had been engaged in a long and bitter discussion with Lieutenant Holmes. He told Georgiana this much but no more before supper, for they had invited the men of the embassy to take that meal in the cabin as a way of concluding the ceremony, and they could not very well rescind the invitation without drawing more attention to the incident.
So while Moll sat quietly in the sleeping cabin, Georgiana and Matthew were required to make their way amongst the men of the embassy and encourage them to take more claret, port, and kickshaws, and neither of the Stantons was of a temperament to make this encouragement very convincing when
their hearts were not in such entertainments. It was almost a relief when one of the men asked if they would play a little music, and they chose one of Beethoven’s lighter sonatas, which provided Georgiana with some distraction as well as a clear end to the evening, when they finished playing.
Moll quietly carried her hammock into the great cabin, once it had cleared, and Georgiana wished to say something comforting to her, but could not think of the right words. In the end, she gave her maid a sympathetic glance and turned back into the sleeping cabin. Then, struck with a strange thought, she walked over to the wash-stand and scooped up some water in her hand. Returning to the great cabin, Georgiana said, “Moll, wait,” and then walked over to her maid, raising her hand to dribble out on Moll’s head what little had not run through her fingers onto the floor, saying, by way of explanation, “I understand it’s tradition, when one crosses the line. I wouldn’t want it to be – unlucky – that you had none of the ceremony.”
For a moment, Moll showed a glimpse of her old spirit, and a smile that was small, but genuine. “Yes, thank you, milady. I don’t want to tempt luck.”
Georgiana returned her smile, and then stepped out of the great cabin, closing the door. When she saw Matthew, she found that the fury of earlier in the day had been replaced by hard, firm anger, and this was confirmed when finally he spoke:
“I told Holmes I was to bring him to court martial, when we reached the Cape. I have tolerated a great deal from him, but this is well beyond the pale. To attack a servant, a woman travelling under my protection – it is unconscionable. If it had been you – God help me,” he said, in a tone that made Georgiana think it was more likely Lieutenant Holmes who would have needed the help.
“What will happen, when he is court-martialled?”
A Season Lost Page 9
