A Season Lost

by Sophie Turner

  “What if they do not?”

  “Then I shall have some difficult decisions to make,” he said, seeming wearied by the prospect of them.

  +++

  Matthew returned to the great cabin with much the same countenance late the next morning. He carried in his hand a letter, and Georgiana, finding it very odd that he should be receiving correspondence in such a place, asked him if he wished for privacy, although in a tone that could not deny her curiosity.

  “You need not leave,” said he. “It is correspondence from the Company factory. I have written to them – my letter, at least, was allowed passage up the river – in the hopes that they might have some better insight regarding all that was happening.”

  He opened the letter and read it silently, then looked up and shook his head.

  “There is no guidance within,” stated Georgiana.

  “The situation is without precedent,” said he. “That is all the guidance they will provide; I am the commodore; it must be left to me to decide what to do.”

  Georgiana did not do him the disservice of asking what he would do, for it was plain he was in deep consideration of this very thing. Standing, he crossed the cabin in long strides, once, twice, three times, somehow managing to do this whilst naturally stooping to avoid hitting his head.

  “They have dishonoured my ship. They have dishonoured our embassy. In so doing, they have dishonoured Britain, and our King and Regent.” Four, five, six times, he crossed the cabin. “I was never prepared for this sort of thing. To be a captain in wartime is to know thine enemy, to know when it is proper to engage him and to know the rules of that engagement.” Seven, eight. “We are not at war with China, and yet there are British subjects on shore whom I have been assigned to bring here, and to return home.” Nine, ten. “Yet any action I take that might involve force could bring at least a temporary end of trade here.”

  Now Georgiana spoke, out of concern: “You are considering the use of force?”

  “If I go up the river without permission, there is every possibility it shall be necessary. I will not fire first, but I will exhort my ship to defend herself to the utmost of her abilities if I am fired upon.” He halted his pacing. “Oh, how I wish my uncle were here! This is far more political than it is martial, and he would know what to do.”

  “I think he did provide you with his advice, in a way, back in London.”

  “You refer to what he said during breakfast, that there could not be diplomacy without respect,” he said. “I have thought often of his words. He could not have known they would have such relevancy to me. But would you apply what he said to my position here?”

  “I believe that I would,” Georgiana said softly, for she did not like the thought of where her advice in the matter might lead. If it came to a use of force, his life would be in far more danger than it had been in the capture of the slave ship. Yet somehow, she knew deep within herself that if she misadvised him now for the sake of preserving his life as her husband, it would do something irrevocable to them as a couple, and she could bear the risk to his life better than that loss, even as much as the prospect frightened her.

  He nodded, and seemed resolved, although discomfited by his resolution. “Then I must demand their respect, and if need be, I shall earn it by force.”

  +++

  There were but two paces of life on board a sailing ship of war, Georgiana had found: slow, and exceedingly fast. Idyllic days of blue-water sailing were the norm, but a lee shore, a reef, a storm, or any shipboard emergency could send the entire ship’s company into a flurry of activity, all orchestrated by her husband. It was strange to Georgiana that the slow pace continued on through the remainder of the day, after Matthew had made his resolution. Certainly, there seemed a determined change in his countenance, and he spoke extensively with each of his officers, but it was not until the day following that Matthew came into the great cabin, where Georgiana was once again seated with her needlework, and said:

  “There has been no change. I intend to weigh anchor within half-an-hour – Travis has committed to bringing her as far up the river as he can without a pilot. We will not beat to quarters immediately, but it may happen at any time, so do please be prepared.”

  Georgiana nodded, and studied him. His countenance seemed tense and drawn, as though he was still not certain he had made the right decision. With a last glance to her, he left the cabin, and some time later began the flurry of activity, the feet stamping about on the deck above Georgiana’s head. She found the needlework not enough to occupy her mind and turned instead to pianoforte practise.

  No great event occurred as a result of the Caroline’s disobedience on that day, however. Without ever beating to quarters, Mr. Travis and Commodore Stanton guided her steadily up the river, sounding the depths continuously, and she came to anchor at Lankeet Flat overnight. The ship was required to wait until the flood tide to proceed further upriver, and it was well after noon the next day before she did so. Georgiana passed much of this waiting time at the pianoforte, although she was beginning to be lulled into the sense that perhaps it had all been bluster by the Chinese, and the Caroline might proceed up the river unmolested.

  Then the ship beat to quarters. Georgiana picked up her sheet music and her work bag and made to put them both in the stern lockers, then decided to keep the work bag; she was not sure how long she would be in the forepeak, but she suspected it would be much longer than her last residence there. By the time she turned around, the bulkheads were gone and she could see the full sweep of the gun-deck; seamen rushed in and began carrying off the cabin’s furniture.

  This was all no different than anything that had happened when the ship beat to quarters for gunnery practise, nor when she had fought the slave ship. Yet this was a far more dangerous time, and Georgiana stood, paralysed, until Bowden came in and took her arm.

  “Ye can see the captain,” he said.

  They went up to the weather deck, Georgiana rushing up to Matthew’s side as soon as she saw him. She noticed first the line of Chinese junks, which looked to be ships of war, albeit smaller ones; next the forts and the gun batteries that surrounded them on the shore and a nearby island; last the boat approaching the ship, which appeared to hold a Chinese mandarin. A wave of faintness the likes of which she had not felt in some time overcame her, for a moment she thought her knees would not hold her, and she reached out for Matthew’s arm.

  “There you are,” said Matthew, calmly. “As you can see by our surroundings, I was obliged to beat to quarters.”

  “How can you be so complacent at such a time?” Georgiana asked.

  “I would not say I am complacent, but this – this is what I understand,” he said, glancing at the batteries and warships. “If they fire on me, I will fire back. It was what came before this, the political aspect, that troubled me, and whether my choice was right or not, that is over. Or it shall be, once the fellow in that boat comes and chastises me for my disobedience.”

  “I will go to the forepeak before the boat reaches us,” said Georgiana. “I know they have a dislike of – foreign women.”

  “No – no, stay,” Matthew said. “This ship is English, and if an Englishwoman wishes to stand on her decks, then she shall.”

  The boat approached and hooked on, and minutes after this, the official clambered over the side. He was made to walk a little gauntlet between a row of uniformed officers and uniformed marines – the latter with their bayonets fixed – before he could reach Matthew, and once there, he seemed rather unnerved by Georgiana’s presence.

  “You must drop your anchor!” exclaimed the man. “You must drop anchor right here and right now, you disobedient mule!”

  “I shall not,” said Matthew. “I shall follow my orders and proceed up the river to collect the men under my protection.”

  “If you go up the river, we will sink your ship. You are surrounded by our guns,” the man said, and then proceeded to insult Matthew, the ship, and the entire country of
England in every manner possible. Matthew’s stubbornness was most particularly called out, and Georgiana’s face grew angrily hot, to listen to such a thing.

  “If you think to destroy us, you will have to fire those guns much better than the French,” said Matthew, in a tone of cold fury. “And now you can have nothing more to say. The Royal Marines will see you off the ship.”

  This they did, four of them coming forward and very nearly picking him up – two of them to an arm – to escort him over the side. For a moment Georgiana thought they might throw him over, and she suspected at least a few of them were tempted to do so, but honour prevailed, and he was allowed to climb back down into the boat. Shortly after this, some firing could be heard from the Chinese ships.

  “They are not firing shot – yet,” said Matthew. “Lieutenant Rigby, let us pretend that was a salute.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  On Lieutenant Rigby’s orders, the salute was returned by the Caroline, with guns devoid of shot.

  “I will see you to the forepeak now, Lady Stanton,” Matthew said, once the firing had ceased, and she nodded. Their progress there was once again slow, for Matthew would speak to his gun crews, and he seemed even more inclined to ensure every detail that needed to be attended to was given due attention. During this time, she became aware that his statement about the Chinese needing to fire their guns much better than the French seemed to have been highly popular among the men, for she heard it repeated and laughed and cheered over numerous times as they made their progress.

  When finally they had reached the orlop deck, Matthew drew her into as private a corner as they were likely to have, took up her hand and placed his purse inside, saying, “I know not what is to come of all of this. If anything does happen to me, Bowden is sworn to see to your safety. Stay with the Travises, if you are able to – assuming he fares better than I. If not, put yourself under the protection of one of my lieutenants – ” he laid his hand on her cheek, seemingly overcome for a moment – “oh dear God, Georgiana, that I should put you in such a position, and worse still, while you are carrying a child – ”

  “I will manage,” said Georgiana, with far more confidence than she felt. He could not go into such a battle weighted down with guilt and emotion over what it might mean for his wife’s – and his child’s – safety, and yet in truth she was petrified over what would happen to her if something happened to Matthew, or even worse still, if something happened to Matthew and the ship was captured.

  He drew her into his arms, then, and kissed her deeply, and this frightened Georgiana more than anything else, for she understood he thought there was the possibility that this would be their last kiss. She tried to quell her panic, to commit every moment to memory, in chance these were truly their last moments together, but it was not possible to do so, and then he had broken away from her, to run back up the companion-ladder.

  Bowden allowed her some minutes to calm herself before he approached and offered his assistance into the forepeak. Georgiana climbed in, still so frightened and distraught that she might have burst into tears, had her maid not preceded her into that state. Moll was kneeling on the deck and weeping copiously, unable to be consoled by either Mrs. Travis or Rebecca McClare.

  “Kelly, what is it?” Georgiana asked, laying her hand on her maid’s shoulder.

  Moll sobbed, sniffled, and looked up at her employer. “John Taylor said if he survived this fight, he wanted to make me his wife.”

  “He is the carpenter,” Georgiana soothed. “Surely his chances are – ” Georgiana now realised that John Taylor’s chances for survival might be better than any of the three husbands of the married women within the forepeak, her own included, and she finished, weakly “ – his chances are – are very good. I am sure you will walk down the aisle together ere long.”

  Moll nodded and seemed to take some comfort from this, although she continued to weep. Her weeping was halted only because firing could be heard from the distance – whether from the Chinese junks or the gun batteries, it could not be told. Then came the sound they had all learned from Matthew’s frequent practises – the measured, orderly broadside of HMS Caroline. This broadside was repeated, many times over, and it was cause for optimism, Mrs. Travis said, that it maintained such discipline, that the Chinese shot seemed to be hitting the Caroline but rarely.

  After this, Georgiana made an attempt on her needlework, as an endeavour to distract herself more than anything else, but her progress was slow, and she thought it likely she should need to redo it all when she saw it in the morning’s light. The firing stopped, and Bowden put his head in, saying they could come out so long as they remained on the orlop deck. Here, Mr. Clerkwell was at his operating table, working on a man whose foot had suffered a ghastly injury, but the rest of the space was rather empty. A few men stood about with what seemed minor injuries – nothing like what Mr. Clerkwell must have known in the battle against the Polonais.

  Still, Georgiana asked, “Is there anything we may do to help?”

  “Nay, nay, hardly worse than gunnery practise,” said Clerkwell, “and not as I’d be lettin’ a lady in yer condition act as surgeon’s mate.”

  “Indeed, you ought to sit, Lady Stanton,” said Mrs. Travis, and on this suggestion, Bowden ran down to the hold and returned with one of the chairs from the captain’s dining-table.

  Georgiana had been sitting for hours within the forepeak, and would have rather stretched her legs, but she could not bring herself to speak against such solicitousness. Bowden left them for a little while, then returned with plates of cold meat and leftover pudding by way of a supper. Such a supper was received with limited enthusiasm by the women, but Bowden’s saying there had yet to be a man killed on the frigate did make some progress in improving their appetites. Georgiana forced hers even more than the rest of them, for although she was relieved at what she had heard, during her time in the forepeak she had come to realise the possibility that the child she carried could be all that went forward of Matthew’s legacy, and she could not count him safe until it was over and she could see him with her own eyes.

  Bowden took their plates up the companion-ladder and returned with his thick arms filled with blankets, saying, “Which the captain makes his apologies, but the ship is to be at quarters overnight, and the ladies are to sleep in the forepeak.”

  It was a fitful night Georgiana spent in the forepeak, for while she could require herself to eat for the sake of her child, it was far more difficult to require herself to sleep. She had only ever known one sibling – a brother more than ten years her senior – and so she had never shared a bed with anyone other than her husband. Even with such numerous blankets as Bowden had managed to procure, she could not sleep with so many around her, and she shifted about restlessly for most of the night, until finally dropping into a sleep that began most fitfully, then deepened enough for her to dream of being awakened by Moll and Bowden.

  “What is happening?” she asked them, and was informed that the ship was sinking, and they must take to the boats.

  “And what of Commodore Stanton?” she asked.

  “Dead, milady, I’m so sorry,” said Moll, “which is why ye must come with us, and why we must keep ye safe, for in your belly is maybe the next baronet.”

  She woke violently, although her companions remained asleep. There was a strange movement near her foot and she kicked at it, shuddering in disgust when the resultant skittering proved it had been a rat. Lying there in the darkness, Georgiana now worried for her child, to be within her in such a situation, and she focused her whole attention within her belly until she felt that now-familiar fluttering and calmed a little. Still, she had numerous reasons now to wish to avoid sleep, and actively fought it until it finally claimed her.

  When she woke, she felt immediately aware that the ship, which had continued to slowly progress up the river during the night, had finally stopped. She became aware as well that most of her companions had left the space, save Moll, who was se
ated on the chair at the entrance. Upon hearing Georgiana’s shifting, she put her head inside and asked, “Is you awake, milady? They ain’t restored the captain’s cabins yet, but ye can sleep in one of the cabins off the wardroom, if ye wish for more comfort.”

  “No, I am fine,” murmured Georgiana sleepily. “But – but – Commodore Stanton is well, is he not? And Taylor?”

  “Both well, both very well. We’re anchor’d with the Company ships, now, and those Chinese ain’t likely to bother the barky, after what she’s done,” smirked Moll.

  Georgiana nodded, glad of the reassurance that the ship – and therefore her husband – was safe. “Is there any tea to be had? I should like some tea more than anything.”

  “Of course, milady,” said Moll, then she turned and bellowed, “Aye! Bowden! Our lady would like some tea!”

  The tea arrived far more quickly than it seemed it should have, in their present circumstances, and Georgiana drank it gratefully, quite certain that no cup of tea had ever been this comforting to her. She had no sooner felt such comfort than she realised that all that had frightened and vexed her and Matthew over the last few days had come as a result of the breakdown in negotiations in trade for the drink she now imbibed. She wondered if Matthew’s actions would help or hinder its trade in the future.

  Georgiana had no answers to such questions, but she did have an explanation from Moll and Bowden – given in excited accents – of just what it was the ship had done, which was to completely and utterly destroy the most substantial of the Chinese forts along the river with her carronades. It was clear that, although they would receive no prize money for it, the ship’s crew were proud of this feat, for they went about their work with good cheer as Georgiana walked up to the wardroom.