Richard Judkins' Wooing: A Tale of Virginia in the Revolution — John Shaqi
Richard Judkins' Wooing: A Tale of Virginia in the RevolutionHains, T. Jenkins (Thornton Jenkins)
History
Richard Judkins' Wooing: A Tale of Virginia in the Revolution
Hains, T. Jenkins (Thornton Jenkins)
Historical fiction; Virginia -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Fiction
Will and the Major stood aside and Phripps, Barron and myself proceeded
to arrange the details of the meeting.
It was decided to fight the affair with swords, until one or the other
of the combatants was completely disabled, and I must say that Phripps
was fair enough in the matter. He measured the weapons and gave Barron
the choice, after which he took the one left and started toward
Harrison, who had strolled down on the river shore to where the sand
was hard and firm.
I might say here, that I was not at all unfriendly toward Harrison, and
that I only took part in the affair after I had done everything in my
power to settle matters peaceably. It required nice discernment, in
those days, for a man to make up his mind whether he was a tory or not,
and it was more because I sympathized with the Major's political ideas,
than anything else, that I took any part in the matter at all. As it
was, I acted as I had acted several times before in such cases; that is,
as referee or judge, while Barron and Phripps were seconds to their
respective men. Will Byrd simply acted as a spectator. It was a perfect
spot for a meeting. The tall sweeping willows for a background on the
low bluff-like bank, and the water sparkling in the sunshine beyond the
shadow. The sand of the shore was firm and flat, and there was plenty of
room, as it was now nearly low water. I marked a spot and gave the
signal for the men to take their places.
I introduced the Major to Phripps and bade Barron hand him his weapon
quickly to avoid unnecessary delay, for I knew his habits of inquiry.
"Mr. Phripps, your mother was a Robinson, I believe, if I remember
correctly," said he, as Barron passed him the hilt and cast off his
sword belt.
"I never met her as a girl," snapped Phripps, impatiently.
"The more honor to her," replied the Major, quietly, as he flashed out
his heavy broadsword. "No fear," he continued, as Phripps reached
hastily for the pistol case, "I'll attend to you some other time. I have
to do with Dunmore's heel dog first."
I took up a pistol and cocked back the flint. "You know the penalty,
Major. Take your place and weapon," I said.
He looked steadily at me for a moment, his eyes gleaming with a strange
light. Then he answered:
"This is a weapon I've used for some years past, Mr. Judkins, and it is
the only one I will use in this quarrel. If no one cares to meet me my
mare is waiting to carry me to more important matters. Take the devil!"
he growled deeper, "I'll take the stiffening out of somebody."
"Don't disturb him on my account," spoke Harrison. "Let him use his
weapon and talk less. I make no objection to it at all. I am ready." And
he took his position.
I looked at Phripps, but he nodded approval; so I gave the word to
begin. I heard Barron laugh out some remark at the Major's expense, as
the men stood on guard for an instant. Then the fight began.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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