Chapter 6

Georgiana had lived on board the Caroline on a Sunday once before, but as the ship had been at anchor in Portsmouth harbour, they had taken a boat to shore and attended services there. This first Sunday of the ship's being under sail for Gibraltar, then, was her first experience with the rigging of church and all the other rituals that took place on the Sabbath while the ship was at sea.

She had slept late, as she usually did now, but found Matthew had either waited for her in the cabin, or – more likely – returned after some time on deck, to sit with her as she did what little breaking of her fast she could.

"It is quite a wet day out," he said, "but we have rigged an awning for church; it should help protect you from the rain, but I'll have Bowden bring up an umbrella, in case the awning soaks through."

"Thank you, that is very considerate of you."

"We will have divisions, first. You need not come up for that if you do not wish to."

That particular ritual, of all the men lining up for inspection by their captain, Georgiana had seen and did not feel the need to see again in the rain, so she told Matthew she would remain in the cabin for that portion of the morning.

"I will send Bowden down for you, when we are ready for the articles and church," Matthew said. "Is Moll a Papist?"

"I – I do not know. Her sister did always attend services at Lambton when we went, but she did not have any other options in our neighbourhood, for spiritual nourishment. I will ask her."

"Very well. We have a small group of men on the ship who are not Church of England – a few are not even Christians at all – and they stay on the fo'c'sle in prayer or whatever their own form of worship is, during church. Moll is welcome either to attend services, or sit with them, whatever her preference."

When Georgiana applied to Moll, the maid confirmed her Catholicism but said, "Sarah told me I must keep me mind open, an' that the differences ai – aren't so very big, if ye come with an open mind. I will listen to yer Protestant service, at least this once or twice."

Thus when the time came, all four of the ladies took their seats together beneath the awning, after Bowden came down to fetch Georgiana and help her up the companion-ladder. The seamen all stood behind the ladies, the officers beside them, and Matthew stood before everyone, waiting until a certain stillness indicated all had settled, and then began,

"Article 1: All commanders, captains, and officers, in or belonging to any of His Majesty's ships or vessels of war, shall cause the public worship of Almighty God, according to the liturgy of the Church of England established by law, to be solemnly, orderly and reverently performed in their respective ships; and shall take care that prayers and preaching, by the chaplains in holy orders of the respective ships, be performed diligently; and that the Lord's day be observed according to law."

He continued through thirty-five articles, his voice as solemn as Georgiana had ever heard from him, which, for someone as serious as Matthew was generally, was very solemn indeed. They were a solemn set of regulations, however, dealing with spies, cowardice, desertion, mutiny, and a whole host of other terrible acts, for which the punishment was generally death.

When he had finished, it seemed to Georgiana that church would be a light occasion by comparison, and she was surprised to see Hawke come up to her husband and exchange the papers he had been holding with a new set of papers and a prayer-book. Of course she had never been introduced to a chaplain, and if there was not a chaplain, whom else should lead his men in spiritual matters, as he did all the rest?

Matthew was rather good at preaching, and Georgiana felt a rush of indignation as he led them through a prayer and two psalms, that his father had criticised him for not making the church his profession, and yet here Matthew was, leading a group of men far larger than would be found in most parish churches in worship. She wondered if he would attempt a sermon, and when he came to that part of the service, he said, "Today's sermon was first given by the Reverend David Stanton on February the 19th, 1815," and then began reading from the papers in front of him. Georgiana smiled, and understood he must have arranged that his brother send copies of David's sermons for this particular use.

It was a very good sermon, and it was clear by the attentiveness of the men around her that Georgiana was not the only one to think so. She chanced a glance over at Moll, and saw the young woman was equally attentive, listening carefully, and likely critically. Matthew closed with the Lord's Prayer, and Georgiana thought his father might not have been proud of him, but she most certainly was.

When the service was over, the seamen were dismissed to spend the rest of their day at leisure. Matthew came over to Georgiana to attend her back below decks, but before he could do so, Moll was saying to him, "Sir, that was a right good sermon, there. I did'na expect to like a service o' your church near so much as I did that one. I won't say I'm to convert or anything like, but I'll attend yer services so long as I'm here."

"Thank you, Miss Kelly," Matthew said. "The compliments for the sermon are due to my brother, and I shall pass them on in my next letter to him."

When he and Georgiana were returned to the privacy of the cabin, she said, "I was impressed by your giving of the service as well. I had no idea you did this."

"It is not such a difficult thing, when I mostly read the words of others," he said.

"Are there not enough chaplains in the navy?"

"What do you mean?"

"The first article in the Articles of War – you spoke of chaplains of holy orders, and yet obviously there is not one on this ship. I suppose I thought there must be a shortage of them, and perhaps the ships of the line take precedence in this as they do other things."

"That is not actually the case," he said. "You will soon find that some things are not quite so firm as they are laid out in the articles, while others are very firm indeed. This is one that is not so firm – many captains do not carry a chaplain on board their ships, because the hands are superstitious and believe it brings bad luck. There are a few, your blue light captains and admirals, who always carry a clergyman and make religion a matter of great importance, but they are the exception rather than the rule. When I first received my own command, I chose to hold services, but do them myself. David gives his advice and sends me copies of his sermons, and because of his assistance, I do not fear my men suffering a shortage of spiritual nourishment."

"Indeed they do not," Georgiana said. "Rather the opposite, I would say, although I wish you would give yourself some credit in the matter."

There came a knock at the door to the cabin, then, which turned out to be Hawke, wishing to speak with them about dinner. They invited him to enter, so they could continue Georgiana's education on what dishes could be made at sea.

The next morning, Georgiana found herself being awakened gently, but still unnaturally.

"Georgiana, Georgiana." It was Matthew, saying her name and grasping her shoulder, but she had been sleeping deeply, and was too disoriented to understand much more beyond this at first.

"I am sorry to wake you," Matthew said hoarsely, "but we need to ensure you are not hurt."

"Hurt? Why should I be hurt?" she asked, and then, with a tremendous sinking in her stomach, she rose up in her cot just enough to see that her nightgown was soaked in blood, which prompted her to go into a panicked flailing, as though it would get her away from the blood, away from the truth of what must have happened, as she cried, "No, no, no, no, no, no, no!"

When she next became aware of herself, she was kneeling on the floor of the cabin in Matthew's arms, sobbing wretchedly. She heard Clerkwell asking if she was well, and Matthew saying she was well enough for now and to return later, which Clerkwell said he would, with a laudanum draught.

"How could this have happened?" she asked. "I was so careful – I do not know what else I could have – "

"Georgiana, there was nothing you could have done. It happened while you were asleep. I woke to find you as you are," Matthew said, weeping himself.

"Is there something wrong with me? What if something happened when I lost the first child?"

"I cannot believe there is anything permanently wrong with you, but perhaps we did not allow your womb time enough to heal after losing the first baby in such a violent manner. Or perhaps this is completely unrelated. Given your family history, we may need to expect this will happen again."

"What do you mean?"

"Georgiana, there is ten years' difference in age, between you and your brother. I must assume your parents were attempting to have children in all that time, or that they did have more children, and those children did not survive."

Georgiana recognised the rightness of what he said, and was not sure whether she found it reassuring or more saddening. Fitzwilliam had been born three years after their parents were married, as well, and so perhaps Matthew was even more correct in his conjecture than he knew – if she took after her mother, she might need to come to expect much more of this. The thought of it pained her terribly, and she buried her face in Matthew's shoulder and returned to weeping.

At least he was here, she thought; at least they were together. After the pain of what she had experienced over the winter, of losing their child without his being there to comfort her and absolve her guilt over what had happened, his presence here was more soothing than anything else could have been.

"Someday, Georgiana," he said, softly, "someday you and I will be watching our children, and I will remind you of this day, and it will seem like naught but a bad memory."

"I hope so," she said, and wished desperately that he was right.