Spears started to fly now; one landing at the feet of David Collins. He was greatly alarmed and feared for his very life.
The Governor fired a pistol, and some sailors from the boat, alerted to the unfolding drama, ran up and placed themselves between the Governor and the Aborigines, enabling the officers to retreat to the beach and the boat.
A withdrawal was accomplished and the party able to return to Sydney within two hours. The surgeons extracted the spear and treated the wound, fortunately not considered fatal, and within six weeks, the Governor had recovered. It was a very low point, the very nadir, in the progress of the colony.
MAJOR ROBERT ROSS HAD returned to Sydney in December 1791. He had become increasingly bitter and disillusioned as a result of his enforced exile to Norfolk Island. Now he longed, with all his being, for release from this place and to return to England.
‘They are scum, and I’m nae talking of the convicts, Ralph.’ He spoke to Lieutenant Clark, a marine officer who had accompanied him to Norfolk Island.
‘Will ye look at my marines man? They have been ruined by they scum of officers. Pshh! A sad day for the Corps, truly sad.’
The two were sitting on the veranda of Government House, Ross drinking rum and Clark sipping on some water, observing the work gangs, and the few marines in evidence, supervising the work of building a new storehouse. Lieutenant Clark was perhaps the only officer of the battalion in whom Ross would confide. The regard was not however, mutual.
‘They’ve turned them into gaolers and drunkards. Bloody Governor Phillip - hah! I tell you Ralph, the man’s a soft liberal, and he’ll make naught of this place!’
‘I am sure you are correct, sir. For myself, I shall be glad to quit the colony and return to my family. I sorely miss my sweet Alicia. I believe we may have our dunnage taken aboard Gorgon on the morrow?’ Clark too, was anxious to be gone.
‘Aye, lad, we’ll be away on Sunday’s tide I believe, and not a day too soon.’
Clark pondered before asking a question.
‘Sir, I believe I have performed my duties on this expedition to your satisfaction and did hope that you might favour me with a suitable certificate of service? I am hopeful of being honoured with further promotion on return to England.’
‘Mister Vizzard!’ Ross appeared not to have heard the question. ‘You disgrace to the Corps. What are you about laddie?’ Ross growled drunkenly.
Jack was approaching the Governor’s house following a summons from Captain Collins.
‘I have business with the Governor, sir, if you would kindly let me pass.’
Major Ross was on his feet, swaying unsteadily and obstructing access to the door. Jack was tired. He had been on duty during the night watch, and had supervised a work gang since first light. It had been a warm day, with little breeze to cool the warming land.
‘The Governor’s lackey! I shall see that you have no further employment in the service - Oxford boy! Too many scum have evaded punishment and execution because of your interfering mischief-making.’
‘Sir, if you please. The Governor has requested my presence as soon as convenient. Please stand aside.’ Jack spoke firmly, but without malice. He had no wish for a scene on the steps of Government House.
Lieutenant Clark looked on, with growing alarm on his countenance. He was aware that these two men had no love for each other, but he had hoped the intervening months on Norfolk Island would have tempered the Major’s opinion. All that Clark had heard held Second Lieutenant Vizzard in high regard by officers and men alike.
‘Sir, if you please,’ Jack repeated.
‘If you please, sir.’ Ross mimicked Jack’s mid-English, cultured voice. ‘You are a damned dandy, Vizzard, and you should have been finished off by that mad Malay in Cape Town! Ye’ll amount to nothing in the Corps as long as I have power to do something about it laddie. You should resign now, and be gone.’ Ross was slurring, the rum having loosened his tongue.
‘I have always wondered, Major Ross, why it is you despise me so. Why do you wish me dead?’
‘A wee bastard like you would never understand that!’ Ross swayed unsteadily.
‘Sir!’ Ralph Clark spoke now. ‘That’s court martial language. I caution you to say no more, please.’
‘Aye, and you are another damned hypocrite, Clark. Christ knows how I tolerated you on Norfolk! All that flogging of convicts you demanded, all the time banging away with young Mary Branham! What say you to that?’
Clark flushed and looked away.
‘Major Ross, you are a mean-minded, boorish man! I shall be happy to see you gone from here. In my opinion, sir, you are not fit to command these men!’ Jack was in difficulty controlling his temper now. The man was belligerent at the best of times, and worse, much worse, after a drink.
‘Hah. I’ll see you pay for that, you young bastard!’ Ross rocked unsteadily on his heels.
Clark tried to interrupt, ‘Sir, please, that is court martial language, and I beg you to cease.’
‘At your pleasure, Mister Ross! At your pleasure.’ Jack snarled the words into Ross’s face, knowing now that the time had come.
‘Aye, and that pretty young wife of yours, so prim and polite and proud to be an officer’s lady; just another convict whore, who amused her passage with half the crew!’
The Major bent double, as Jack’s balled fist struck him low in the stomach, the punch thrown with all the power he could muster, followed with a blow to the side of Ross’ head, which dropped him to his knees.
‘Now I have ye, Vizzard.’ Ross spluttered, vomit trickling from his mouth. ‘That’s you for a court martial, and probably a rope’s end or firing squad, if I have any say in it, you insubordinate whelp.’
Jack brushed passed him and entered the Governor’s house, shaking with anger, and reckless as to his actions. He stood for a while, composing himself, as Captain Collins appeared.
‘There you are, Jack. Good. The Governor will see you immediately. Be prepared for some good news my friend.’ He beamed. Looking more closely at him, he realized that Jack was distressed. ‘What troubles you, Jack? You shake so.’
He breathed out before answering. ‘I regret to say, sir, that I have just left Major Ross outside. He threatened me, I happen to believe to a duel, and I fear I have probably accepted. I also hit the bastard, and it was worth it. He insulted my wife, sir.’
‘Oh no, that will not do. You know the Governor’s views on dueling. He will not permit that, Jack. Whatever the cause, or provocation, it must be dealt with in some other manner.’ Collins sighed. Ross had been a thorn in the side since the beginning of the expedition. It was only days until he was to leave the colony. He would have to remove young Vizzard from the camp, for his own safety, he thought. He is too good an officer to loose in a duel with that mad Scot. He made a mental note to speak to the Governor immediately after this interview.
‘Come with me, Jack. The Governor is waiting.’
He walked quickly through to the Governor’s office, where Arthur Phillip sat at a long desk, as always littered with paper; letters, dispatches, orders to officers, daily returns from the commissary. Jack thought he was looking older than when he first met him. Phillip pointed to a chair.
‘Do sit down, Mister Vizzard. I am truly delighted to see you, especially today, for I have some good news for you.’
Jack sat forward in the chair, as David Collins moved to the desk, and handed the Governor a large document, written in a careful hand, and carrying a heavy wax seal.
‘I wish you to be the bearer of this news, Jack. Your father now knows where you are, and more importantly, who it is that is with you. He has not been idle these years.’
Arthur Phillip smiled in an avuncular manner. He had been delighted with Vizzard. A good, conscientious, effective officer, touched by humanity and compassion, and who had helped ease his burdens; that was the essence of one of his many reports on his officers. He passed the packet across the desk.
Jack took the
document and immediately noted the large, elaborate signet embedded in the heavy wax seal. He looked across at Arthur Phillip’s smiling face. Breaking it open, he rapidly scanned the first few lines, etched in thin, black ink and his mouth opened. He could not control the trembling of his hands.
‘Sir, I know not what to say.’ He could feel his throat tighten and his eyes moisten.
‘It is a very important document, and I for one am delighted to hear of it. I have a copy here somewhere. I am instructed by their lordships that your father has been pestering the Board and various members of the government. There is also a note from your father, I believe.’ He passed over a smaller packet, tied in red string, also sealed with wax.
‘May I suggest you go to her now, without delay?’ He smiled kindly.
Jack stood and reached out a hand. The Governor shook it slowly, his shoulder still stiff and tender from his wound. ‘I am indeed very happy for you both, very happy.’
Jack walked from the room in a daze. He did not notice Captain Collins lean forward and speak softly to the Governor.
39
A Pardon and a duel
His walk to their hut was as though on air. There was still tightness in his throat, a stinging of his eyes. Dear father, he thought. You have worked another miracle. Then he realized that Ralph Clark was on a course to intercept him, some fifty yards short.
‘Ralph, I am very sorry but it will have to wait,’ he said, as Ralph Clark opened his mouth to speak.
‘Regrettably it cannot, Vizzard. I have to be his second; I have no choice. He demands that you meet him and either apologize or engage in combat with him. He maintains that you have dishonoured him. I am so very sorry.’ Lieutenant Clark was very downcast. This was not the way to complete a commission, he thought. Jack’s right, the pig is not fit to command.
So it has come to it at last, Jack thought. ‘Very well, but I will not apologize, Ralph. The bastard insulted Mary, and that is dishonourable. Tell me where and the hour, and I shall be there. I shall ask Lieutenant Dawes to act for me. Good day to you.’
He strode off calling loudly for Mary.
Lampern House
Woodchester,
Glos.
January 8th, 1791
MY DEAREST JACK
I have just today received the news for which I have prayed so long. Finally, my duty is done! My efforts have borne fruit and I pray that this note finds you soon, and safe, for now I have learned your destination. The papers have some reports of the colony, but insufficient to satisfy my overwhelming curiosity I fear. I pray also for a report from you, my beloved son.
I trust you have my earlier letters and now know that you fled from us needlessly, at least you have the assurance that the death of Reverend Barnwood is not associated with your sudden disappearance. I cannot begin to tell you of the magnitude of my relief that our late vicar was judged to have died of some despicable disease, and not by your hand.
However, today’s news cannot wait so I hasten to dispatch this note, which is to be carried to the colony by the acquaintance of a former associate of mine. The King has graciously agreed to a Full Pardon. Not, I am delighted to say, a mere conditional pardon, but complete, absolute and irreversible Royal Pardon. Mary is a free citizen once more. Oh happy day!
Since your departure, I sought leave to appeal to the Kings Bench and suffice to say that I was most successful in my endeavour. The justices quashed the conviction, and faced with that, a Royal Pardon was the inevitable consequence. Judge Paul has been retired from the bench, a fact that will of course give you undoubted satisfaction.
This letter must leave Lampern within the next half hour in order to catch the mail coach to Bristol, so I will bid you both a fond father’s best wishes for a safe and swift return. I add your sister’s affection and am
Yours etc
Henry Vizzard
PS. I am off now to see Frederick George, and am confident the bells of St. Giles will ring this evening!
JACK FINISHED READING it aloud, for a second time, necessary because Mary had eyes full of tears, and could not see to read.
‘Oh, Jack! What news! I am free, and have a full pardon from the King. I cannot believe it. Oh what a Christmas present this is!’ She wrapped her arms about him, rocking gently and full of a warmth not felt for a very long time.
‘We shall return now, my beloved.’ He spoke softly. ‘I shall remain in the Corps, but my service here is done, or very nearly so. We shall find somewhere in Portsmouth, perhaps close to the sea and the common.’
She smiled, nodding, still lacking the power of speech, tearful at the wonderful news.
AT MORNING ORDERS, William Dawes took him aside. ‘Jack, Ralph Clark has spoken to me this morning. I know all, and must implore you not to proceed with this. It is utter madness. He demands swords, and names Saturday, tomorrow, at first light, by my observatory.’ Dawes looked hard into his friend’s face. ‘I must speak to the Governor - you know this cannot be permitted to proceed.’
‘Will, it must proceed; the bad blood between us cannot be resolved by talk. That time is past. I am only pleased that he has chosen swords and not pistols. I have a good chance of defeating him.’
Dawes shook his head. He had not acted as a second before, but was familiar with the French code of honour, and the protocols associated with duels. In good conscience, he could not abandon his friend, but felt divided. He also doubted Jack’s ability to best the Major in swordplay. What faults the man had, they were not in his ability to fight, and fight hard. He had a fearsome reputation as a fighting marine. The ‘Hero of Bunker Hill’ was a phrase used in the mess at Portsmouth before.
William Dawes was very troubled, and slept not at all that night. He looked at the night sky, staring at the stars, but for once, making no additions to his notebook.
DAWN WAS ONLY TEN MINUTES or so away, and the sun’s first rays already showing on the Pacific horizon as Jack tapped gently at the small wooden door of the observatory, from which the light of a single candle betrayed that William Dawes was awake.
‘Good God, Jack, you mean to go through with this then? Dawes’ eyes were bloodshot, and his expression, usually sanguine, was this morning anxious.
‘I spoke to Clark last night. We have agreed terms. You will duel with épée, over on the point there. Come, have some coffee.’
Jack sat on a rock as Dawes brought him a soldier’s mess tin of hot coffee, enhanced with a double measure of rum, and Jack felt the fire of it as it ran down his gullet.
‘The usual rules will apply. You will each draw lots for the ground; both must show your chests before ‘the commence,’ and naturally use of the left hand is forbidden. Finally, Clark and I have agreed that the duel will be complete on sight of the first wound. This is not ‘to the death’, Jack. Do you understand?’
He understood. Jack had no intention of killing Ross, or of dying either. He merely wished to defeat Ross, and win the contest by humiliating the man, to prove his ability, as it were. Not to destroy his enemy, but to see him beaten, humbled, vanquished.
But deep in his heart he also understood that this might not be sufficient. Ross was the bully; and bullies had to be defeated - totally and with conviction. He was not as fit as he once was, but that would be true of Ross also, he reasoned. The man was older, but more experienced too. I wonder if he has fought a duel before, he thought. Probably. He wished he had time to practice.
‘Yes, Will. I do understand that. However, I fear he is determined on more. You recall his encounter in Portsmouth, with that Commander? He intended to kill that man. Will, should he not comply with your ‘code’, and I should perish this morn, there are some instructions; some requests I should perhaps say, that I have left in my case. I would consider it a personal...’
‘I will not hear of such things, Jack!’ Dawes interrupted him. There will be no death at my observatory Jack, neither yours nor Ross’s. This is a matter of honour only, not a killing ground.’
&
nbsp; Jack proffered his hand to his friend. Dawes clasped it with both of his.
‘Here they are come, Jack. Pray, compose yourself.’
Ross approached, accompanied by Lieutenant Ralph Clark and two other officers also. Lieutenants Long and Furzer had learned of the matter and had insisted on attending. The latter as an observer only; John Long had offered to act as a second to Jack, and had conversed with Clark while en route to the meeting place. He now took the others aside for a final discourse.
‘Gentlemen!’ Ralph Clark announced. ‘This is a matter of honour, to be decided by means of a duel. Major Ross is gravely offended, by the disrespectful, insulting language and violent conduct of Mister Vizzard. No apology has been forthcoming, and at this time, my principal will accept none. Accordingly, by custom the duel will proceed.’
‘My principal is also offended by the insult to his lady wife, given by Major Ross. Such is considered contemptible of an officer of the Major’s rank, and not the language a gentlemen would ever use.’ William Dawes responded. ‘Lieutenant Vizzard demands an apology and a full retraction.’
Major Robert Ross was not the man he once was. He realized that. The young man in front of him was fitter, and faster. He knew that also. But, thought Ross, I know more of fighting than he will ever know. I have wrung more seawater from my socks than he has sailed on. Bugger the code of honour. I will cut the young bastard down to size this morning.
‘Bugger that, Mister Dawes, he spat. ‘This pompous dandy will see the surgeon for I intend to have satisfaction today.’
William Dawes looked at his commanding officer with deep disdain. What kind of officer is this man, he thought, to speak thus?
‘Major Ross has selected swords as the weapon of choice, that choice is agreed, and I have selected the épée, both have been provided by Lieutenant Long, whose weapons they are. We are agreed, gentlemen, as to their dimensions, weight and all characteristics, and pronounce them as suitable for this combat.’
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