“Oh, Judd! How can you make jokes about this? You accuse me of not taking it seriously, yet you jest about something as serious as killing a shipmate, a messmate.”
“Listen to me, Oliver.” Devon leaned forward over the table and, after taking a taste of his thick, aromatic coffee, focused his eyes upon mine. “That boy—yes, ‘boy,’ and I know he’s older than you—is a coward and, like many cowards, he is also a bully. I intend to teach him a lesson, a lesson whose time is well past due!”
“By killing him? What good will that do? Surely he will not have learned anything if he is lying dead on the ground.” I could not believe he was serious.
“I am quite sure, Oliver, that Mister Wheatley is nothing but bluff and bluster. I suspect that when we actually establish a time and place for a duel, he will start to think of ways to avoid it. He wants nothing to do with facing me across loaded pistols. Recall, my friend, that he, like everyone else on Intrepid witnessed my little shooting demonstrations, which, you might as well know, I put on especially for his benefit.” I nodded, having suspected as much. Judd continued. “I heard from several of our sailors that Wheatley was quite impressed and expressed as much to several. It could not have affected him in any other way when you consider that he is barely capable of hitting the water with a pistol fired from the deck. I have come to realize that he will go on haranguing us all about ‘getting our business done,’ but I assure you, Oliver, it is the farthest thing from his mind.”
While not shocked at this revelation, I was mildly surprised; I had known for many months, since the storm in the Atlantic, in fact, that Thomas Wheat-ley was a coward. But he called out Judd, not the other way ‘round. Why would he do that if he did not intend to see it through? He certainly could not have thought that Judd would back down from a challenge. Thomas, as the challenger, would have no choice but to let the events run their course. I could not imagine how he would manage to back out of it now. I said as much to Judd.
“I have not a clue, Oliver. But you mark my words. This duel will not take place. And should it, it will be only because Thomas is unable to find a fitting excuse or I decide teaching him a lesson is more important than . . .”
“How can you teach him a lesson by killing him?” I interrupted.
“I can not believe that you have not yet figured it out, Oliver. I do not intend to kill him, merely wing him to let him know he should think carefully before opening his mouth.” Judd looked away, in dismay, perhaps, and lifted his cup to his mouth.
We finished our cups in quiet reflection, me thinking of how stupid I must appear to Judd, and him . . . well, maybe not thinking of how stupid I am in not figuring out his scheme. Our walk back to the schooner was also quiet, with Judd making mundane observations about various places we passed and me saying little.
As we entered the cockpit, James offered a game of dice or whist to either of us; Judd accepted as though he had not a care in the world, and I retired to my cot, where I spent a restless night fighting the images that marched in unrelenting reality through my reeling brain. Their chatter and expletives over their cards faded into the distance as I saw Thomas kill Judd with a lucky shot, then the reverse and, finally, Edward, still dressed in prison rags, appeared to take Judd’s place in the field saying, “I can not let my little brother be involved in such unpleasant business. I will be your second, Mister Devon, in Oliver’s stead.”
I must have slept as, when I was rousted for our breakfast, I had to swim up from the depths of unconsciousness to the reality of a new day.
Our breakfast was interrupted by a great commotion on deck. As one, we threw down our utensils and charged at the ladder, fighting to be first to mount the steps. It seemed not to matter that Thomas prevailed, and we tumbled out of the hatch like puppies out of a basket, winning the curious and amused stares of our shipmates. The schooner Nautilus was approaching our pier and, from all appearances, preparing to tie up immediately astern of Enterprise. She was quite obviously damaged.
“Damn! Looks like she got herself into a scrap with someone. We missed another action, damn all!”
“Look at her rig; likely all shot to hell, it is!”
“Aye, and look at her forefoot, there. Took a shot or two there, I’ll warrant.”
The comments continued from our sailors as the schooner dropped her sails and ghosted alongside the dock smoothly, her lines handled by willing stevedores on the pier.
Within minutes, we knew in broad terms what had happened and, before the end of the morning, had all the details. Judd related it to us when he returned from a visit with Captain Decatur, who had gone to pay his respects and visit his brother, James.
“We didn’t miss a thing, lads. Nautilus got herself beat up in a storm and then had the misfortune to run afoul of the Syren brig in the dark. Ran right aboard her, she did. That’s what tore up the bow. From what Lieutenant Decatur, the captain’s brother, told me, her rig got damaged during the blow. Lost her fore topmast and sprung her main top. As you saw, her rig’s all ahoo, and Decatur thought they’d be dockside for a fortnight at the least.
“But Syren got herself a prize right after the collision. Took a polacca trying to scamper away toward the coast. The lads on Nautilus were right unhappy it wasn’t them, but they were in no shape to get into a scrap with anyone. They will, of course, get shares of the prize money as they were right there when Syren took it.”
“Where’d Syren take the prize, Judd? How come they didn’t bring it in here along with Nautilus?” James voiced what had occurred to all of us.
“Don’t know, James. I’d reckon they took it into Syracuse. Probably didn’t see any reason to sail all the way here when they were only a day out of Syracuse. That’d be my guess.” Judd stood, clearly ready to go on with his morning’s duties, which included checking our powder and shot with Gunner Tarbox, a weekly occurrence in port. We all rose, following his lead, and left the cockpit. I headed forward to see to some work Bradford was doing on my guns.
Shortly before the dinner hour, when the crew had been called to spirits up and their meal, Judd found me still overseeing the work on the cannons.
“Let us go ashore, Oliver, and take care of mat business. I have spoken to Lieutenant Lawrence and he has no objection.”
No objection to our going ashore, or to Judd and Thomas trying to kill each other? I wondered. But I nodded, keeping my thoughts to myself, and obediently followed my superior to the gangway rigged in the waist and thence to the pier.
“Here is the first place I found, Judd.” I spoke for the first time when we arrived, after a short walk, at a flat open place near the pier but unencumbered with the trappings of civilization, being as it was outside the limits of Messina.
“Aye, it might answer. But let us have a look at what else you have found. I collect you have other places in mind?” Judd said, after casting an appraising eye over the terrain and judging distances in his mind.
“Oh, yes! There are two other spots I saw; one is just a short walk up that hill.” I pointed toward a nearby mound, hardly a hill, but in this land of mountains and cliffs rising out of the sea, there was scant land level enough to be suitable for our needs. And Judd had suggested a ‘hilltop’ when he instructed me on finding a field of honor.
“This is better. Yes, I think this will serve our purpose nicely. Enough trees to shelter us from those who might interfere and room enough to make our distance. Well done, Oliver!” Judd clapped me on the back as he turned, suddenly filled with enthusiasm, to march down the “hill” toward the town. I hardly shared his manner as I hurried to match his stride. He chattered with unmitigated good humor all the way back to the pier and smiled broadly as we stepped into the cockpit, where our meal was already on the table. I noticed that Thomas had taken his usual seat, not the one at the head of the table.
“Well, Thomas, Oliver has found a fine place for your undoing. It will answer well for our field of honor. What say you to tomorrow at the noon hour? Will that provi
de you enough time to find peace with your Maker?” Judd’s wolfish smile at Thomas and his discrete wink at me left me somewhat relieved and hopeful that he indeed would only ‘wing’ his adversary.
“I would submit, Devon, that ‘finding peace with one’s Maker,’ as you put it, would serve us both well. You seem not to admit that I might just as easily kill you as you, me. But, to answer your question, yes. Most certainly tomorrow at noon will do nicely. Then I can, for once, eat my dinner in peace.” Thomas spoke quietly, his bravado diminished with the actual time and place established. The balance of our meal was eaten with a minimum of conversation carried out in subdues tones. James, his brow furrowed and the corners of his moutn turned downward, was particularly silent. I determined to tell him of Judd’s plan when the opportunity presented itself.
I have little recollection of the balance of the day, though I am sure I must have performed my duties, even if in a perfunctory way. Sharing Judd’s intent with James did, as I expected, ease his fears of one of us killing another, though he did mention the possibility of Thomas killing Judd. A concern, I agreed, though unlikely to become reality; I related Judd’s thoughts on that to him.
The evening proved little more remarkable, though Lieutenants Hobbs and Morris quite suddenly invited the cockpit to join them ‘in a glass’ ashore. We found a table in a noisy but small taverna in close proximity to the docks.
“You lads seem some quiet tonight. Has not this lengthy stay in port restored your vitality?” Morris spoke to none of us in particular; I noticed that Lieutenant Hobbs nodded in agreement.
After a moment where, certainly I, and I am sure the others, struggled to supply a suitable response, Judd smiled at the officer and offered, “I reckon we’re all a trifle weary of being confined, Mister Morris. What would likely put us into better humors would be a return to our duties off Tripoli, fighting those piratical bastards who hold our colleagues prisoner.”
That was well done, Judd. I could not have managed that—even with my own brother as one of ‘our colleagues’! I watched the two officers to see if Judd’s response had found the mark.
“You young gentlemen have, no doubt, noticed that the repairs our vessel needed so desperately are about done. And Nautilus, I am sure, will occupy the time and talents of our workers. Captain Decatur has told us we will likely be underway for Syracuse to join up with the commodore and the others before the week is out. You will, I reckon, be getting your wish to ‘return to our duties off Tripoli’ sooner than ever you might actually want!” Hobbs spoke with a smile, whether at the prospect of going back to sea or at calling Judd on his comment, I had no idea. In the silence that followed his remark, the clatter of the public house, glasses tinkling, exuberant voices chattering in unintelligible dialects, and the boisterous singing of a small group in the corner, suddenly seemed overwhelming.
“So, should you have any business to take care of ashore, it would be prudent to get done with it sooner man later.” Hobbs threw out this last and raised his eyebrow as he looked from one to another of us.
Oh, my God! He knows. Somehow the gunroom has discovered what is afoot between Judd and Thomas. I was startled at Hobbs’ insight, though how he or any other not of the cockpit could have heard of our plan quite eluded me. No, he doesn’t know; he’s just making conversation. Perhaps more of a wish than a reality. I noticed, even through the gloom of the tavern, that my messmates had, to a man, raised their own eyebrows and sat with slack jaws as they considered the lieutenant’s casual remark.
“Oh, sir! What business could we possibly have left . . . ooooof! Who kicked me?” James outburst was cut off by someone’s well placed foot under the table.
“What James was going to say, I am sure, Mister Hobbs, was that we’ve been in for long enough to take care of any business we might have had ashore. Isn’t that what you were about to say, James?” The mystery of who might have placed the kick was solved; Thomas’ benign smile did little to erase the frown from James’ countenance as he leaned forward over the table and reached below it to rub his bruised shin.
“Of course, it was, Thomas. You might have let me finish saying it my own self. I might also have added that anything left to do ashore could be taken care of on the morrow, and that we are all quite ready to get on with our commission.” He directed his comment to Thomas, who nodded innocently, ignoring the petulant tone.
“Well, I am pleased to hear that, lads. We’ll be back to sea before you know it. And to everyone’s relief, I am sure.” Morris smiled as he spoke and raised his glass. “Let us drink to our continued good health and each other, shipmates all.” He swallowed deeply and, over the top of his glass, watched as Thomas, Judd, James and I followed suit. I wondered, as we drank to each other, which of us would be in less than ‘continued good health’ by this time tomorrow.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Breakfast was again a silent affair, and we went about our morning duties, which, for James and me, included studies of our profession, with little heart. As six bells sounded, marking the hour as eleven, I made my way to the cockpit where I found Judd explaining to James and Thomas just how to find our ‘field of honor.’ I saw his case open on the table and a pair of pistols, the same ones he had used for his practice on Intrepid, laid out on a cloth before him. A small bag of shot lay next to them, and his powder horn had already been filled. I realized that both Thomas and Judd wore their dress uniforms, complete with dirks. It also appeared that they had brushed their jackets and blackened their shoes.
“So you are both clear on where you are to go?” Judd concluded his explanation and waited as his messmates nodded soberly. “James, I would like you to find Mister Wakefield and bring him there; he is sure to be needed.” After a pause which included a telling look at Thomas, he added, “For one of us. And be sure to have him bring his medical box.”
“What am I to tell him, Judd? Surely he will ask me why he should run off to follow the junior midshipman to a secret location. He will think he’s on a fool’s errand.”
“Tell him only that one of your messmates has got himself hurt and needs his services. Then bring him with all haste to the hill I just described to you.”
James nodded, clearly not convinced that the ruse would work, and rose to leave.
“Not now, James. Wait until we have gone, say until a quarter before noon. Then find Wakefield and follow on.”
James sat down. His hands fidgeted, and he picked up the shot bag, weighing it, first in one hand and then the other. Judd glared at him. He put the bag down and began tapping on the table, shifting in his seat, and making little noises with his mouth. Thomas and Judd, by contrast, were, outwardly at least, as calm and unruffled as if they were to attend a party; certainly not fight a duel. I found myself to be closer to James’ demeanor than theirs and poked my head into my sleeping cupboard seeking some article of great significance. Suddenly one of my responsibilities occurred to me.
“Thomas, Judd, listen here. As Judd’s second, it is my duty to make-a final effort to talk you out of this foolishness. You need not go through with such a drastic step over a silly remark. In fact, I can not even remember what it was that Judd said to provoke you, Thomas. But whatever it was, I am sure he did not mean it. Judd, why not apologize to Thomas and let us get on with our lives? Besides, think of how well we have all gotten along since this unpleasantness began. It seems as if the prospect of one of you killing the other has made us all better messmates.” This last was more hope than fact, but I thought it sounded quite believable, and hoped they would too.
“I will accept an apology, Judd, should you be willing to offer one. For once, Oliver seems to be making some sense. Besides, I have no desire to kill you; if I did, I could just as easily have left you in the Philadelphia frigate to be blown to hell, instead of telling Oliver of your absence.” Thomas sounded sincere, even to me.
Judd would have none of it; he looked at Thomas, his mouth a thin line, his eyes hard as iron. Then, quite without war
ning, he shifted his glance to me and smiled. “Did I not predict this, Oliver? He was full of bravado right up until the last moment, now he would like an excuse to be shed of it. Well, I think nothing will be gained by an apology; we will go through with this and you, my friend, will learn that a gentleman can not challenge another without facing the consequences. I will see you at the place I described to you. Come, Oliver; you will carry the pistols. I trust you have your watch?” Judd stood and handed me the box that, until he just mentioned it, I had failed to notice once again held its deadly contents. I patted my waistcoat pocket, feeling the bulge and weight of my silver watch and received a nod from my superior.
“As you wish, Judd,” Thomas said. “I will be along momentarily. I am sorry you could not bring yourself to apologize to me. I hope that failure will not cost you too dearly.” Thomas smiled, and we left him standing in the cockpit with a very somber James, who suddenly sat very still.
As Judd and I arrived at the hill he had chosen, he looked around and then, putting his hand on my shoulder, said, “Remember I told you I would not kill him. I intend to shoot him in his right arm. Hopefully, his aim will be less than true, and, at worst, I will receive only a scratch. However, should he get off a lucky shot, please see that people know that I died on a field of honor, and with honor. We will begin here, and you will count out the paces, then say ‘turn and fire.’ Wakefield will be here to attend to whichever of us is the less fortunate.”
Suddenly I thought Judd seemed less confident than he had and wondered, silently, if he was having second thoughts about this business. I would have been pleased to call the whole thing off and once again offered the possibility to my principal.
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