This fellow has never done a days work outside, I’d wager! Must work in a counting house somewhere, likely for his father. That’s what I would look like had I not gone to sea six years ago. Poor chap!
“Well, sir. I cannot say that. I have indeed experienced the horrors of war, and can honestly say I do not relish experiencing more of it.” I said quietly and turned back to watch the dancers pirouetting around the floor.
“Couldn’t have been much of a war. Our country has not been engaged in a real war since we won our independence. And you appear too young to have fought in that one.” His smile was gone, replaced by a look that was both challenging and, I thought, sneering, which certainly fit the tone he used.
I fought the urge to respond sharply by taking a breath. My mother’s words about thinking before you speak floated through my head and, remembering occasions where I had not, and regretted it, took another before I answered his challenge.
“Actually, sir, I was with Captain Decatur on the Barbary Coast in ought three and four. You must have read about that conflict with the Bashaw of Tripoli; I am sure it was in all the newspapers.”
I did not think that adding my participation in the incident with HMS Leopard would signify to him.
“You must have been merely a boy then,” he said. “Did you actually see action yourself then?”
“Aye, I did indeed. My name is Oliver Baldwin.” I stuck out my hand in an effort to be friendly and, hopefully, change the subject.
“Josiah Tibbets, is mine. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Born and raised right here in Newport.”
“You know what I do, Mister Tibbets. What is it that you make your living at?”
“Please call me Josiah, and I shall call you Oliver. I clerk at my father’s bank, right down the street.”
Hah! I was right! Spends all his time pouring over ledgers, counting currency, and other such similarly boring entertainments.
“That must be most interesting,” I offered, not meaning a word of it.
“Oh, I find it quite dull, to be honest. But it gives me an income, paltry though it might be, and, I’d reckon to take over the bank, once my father has either tired of it or passed on. Then I shall gain the respect of these people.”
Hmmm. I wonder if he really thinks that people respect someone based on how they earn their keep.
As our conversation drifted to a halt—I think we both realized we had little in common and less to share—I became aware of the music stopping and the dancers all moving to the sides of the ballroom.
The dull-looking fellow I had noticed dancing with our hostess earlier now stood in the center of the room by himself. His face was now smiling and animated; he was the center of attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen. May I have your attention, if you please?” His voice was tinny sounding, almost as if he spoke through a speaking trumpet, which, of course, he was not.
The conversations and laughter of the gathering quieted and he beamed as he continued in the same high-pitched voice.
“I want to welcome you to our home and take this moment to introduce to you our most special guests: Captain Stephen Decatur and his officers of the frigate Chesapeake, which has graced our harbor for the past several days.”
So that is our host. Vernon, as I recall from what Rowe mentioned. So I wonder who Mister Little might be. Perhaps his father-in-law?
An enthusiastic round of applause greeted his introduction and I watched Captain Decatur detach himself from a small group of men and ladies and make his way to the center of the room, next to our host.
“As some of you are no doubt aware, the captain and his officers distinguished themselves off the coast of North Africa some four or five years back, fighting the corsairs of Tripoli and helping to regain for our splendid country the rights to trade in the Mediterranean Sea. Something I know that is near and dear to many of our hearts.” Mister Vernon extended his hand to Decatur and smiled.
The captain muttered something to his host as he took the proffered hand, smiled, took a breath, and spoke.
“My officers, midshipmen and I are most pleased to be included in your grand ball. What a marvelous welcome to Newport! I thank you, Mister Vernon, for your most kind words of recognition. Indeed, I, along with many others, did see some action with the corsairs of the Barbary Coast, an event that came to a thankfully favorable conclusion. While none of the officers presently with me served in my command in that theater, one of my midshipmen did, and with notable courage.” He looked around the room, obviously seeking me.
Oh no! What is he doing? I have no interest in this, whatever. I could feel the color rising up my neck.
“There you are, Oliver. Friends, may I present to you Midshipman Oliver Baldwin.”
Another round of applause greeted his words and I could feel heads turning as the guests sought me out. My companion, the bank clerk, smiled broadly, shook my hand again, and spoke to a few around us, acknowledging their glances of respect with nods and smiles. For my own self, I wished I could have taken my crimson face and crawled into a hole! But I smiled manfully, and bowed my head, respectful of the recognition.
Decatur continued speaking after a brief interval and, once again, the crowd hushed.
“Chesapeake has been on an extended embargo patrol for the past four and more months, ranging from the Carolinas to Cape Cod. You can imagine our joy at coming ashore, and especially, to this wonderful town. I trust that my crew will do nothing to embarrass us or abuse your welcome. We thank you for your hospitality and look forward to enjoying it for a few more days before we will weigh anchor and return to our home waters of Norfolk.” He bowed, hand on his sword, and received more applause, though this time, I noticed several men who did not join in the adulation.
In fact, while I could not hear the words they muttered to one another, their hard expressions were clear indicators that they did not appreciate our assignment.
Must be ship owners, angry about Mister Jefferson’s embargo. Likely got ships either endeavoring to slip through or rotting at the docks.
At a nod from Mister Vernon, the musicians went back to work and couples immediately took to the dance floor, forcing our host and Decatur to make their way by a circuitous route to the outboard side of the room. I noticed several guests, including a number of the ladies, at once surround the captain.
“… see some action. Sorry to have doubted you, sir.”
I realized that Josiah Tibbets had spoken to me, but, intent on watching the proceedings across the room, I had missed most of what he said.
“I’m sorry, Josiah. What was that? I did not realize you were speaking to me.”
“I was apologizing for making light of your war experience, sir. I hope you will forgive me. I imagine that it must have been horrific to be there, but you must have distinguished yourself, given the accolade you just received from your captain.”
“I did my job, sir.” If he was going to be formal with me, I would not be outdone either.
He pressed. “But had what you did not been of some note, I doubt that a man of Captain Decatur’s renown would have taken the trouble to single out a mere midshipman. After all, there are, what, half a dozen officers senior to you, in attendance. Would it not have been more fitting to introduce at least some of them over a midshipman?”
“I have no inkling of why the captain chose to single me out. I did nothing that any other would not have done in my place. It could have been only that I am the only one aboard Chesapeake to have sailed with him, as he said, to the Barbary Coast. Will you excuse me, please? I would like to have a look outside before the darkness is complete.” I was most uncomfortable with the seemingly belligerent nature of his questions.
I smiled, nodded, and, without waiting for an answer, stepped off toward the open doors across the room and, hopefully, some respite from the interrogation. I could feel his eyes on my back as I took my leave.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The daylight outside was fas
t waning; in fact, there seemed more shadows than light, but the nearly full moon had shown itself above the horizon and augmented the afterglow of the sunset. The garden was laid out with paths between flowerbeds, which contained a variety of blooming plants and shrubs. A large tree, set away from the house, cast long shadows over the whole of the garden, it’s branches swaying gently in the easy breeze. A bench, carved from stone, sat in a small opening at the end of one path, not far from the tree.
I strolled casually in it’s general direction, my choices limited by the available paths. The sounds of the party dimmed as I moved further from the open doors; voices and music mingled together to become a dull buzz. The sounds of the night insects chirping, the birds twittering, and the rustle of the breeze in the tree, instead filled the air. I found it quite refreshing.
Reaching the bench, I stepped beyond it and saw before me the harbor, the path of the moon reflected quite clearly in the ripples of it’s dark surface. Ships, including Chesapeake, swung to their anchors, some facing the gentle breeze, others pointing their bows into the ebbing tide. Several, perhaps a dozen, more lay at the various piers, which poked out into the harbor, a clear indication that at least some of the citizens of Newport were observing the embargo.
Likely owned by those unhappy gentlemen at the ball. I thought, recalling the angry looks Decatur’s remarks received from some.
“What a perfectly lovely evening.” A feminine voice from behind me startled me out of my reverie. So caught up in the view and the night sounds that I had heard naught of her approach. I turned.
Before me, bathed from the front in the moonlight and lit from behind by the lights of the ballroom, was a young woman of astounding beauty. She was smiling, seemingly amused by my slack-jawed gape. With considerable effort, and hopefully, before the passage of too much time, I collected my wits.
“Aye, ma’am. Indeed it is. And what a lovely … uh, home and … uh, view of the harbor. Do you live here?”
Oliver! Try to act less the bumpkin and more like a seasoned officer of the Navy. My goodness, what a beauty!
“Oh no.” She giggled. And it sounded like distant bells tinkling. “I am here with my family, sir, and just a guest of the Vernon’s. Like you.”
“Oh dear,” I exclaimed, extending my hand and bowing from the waist. “Where are my manners? I am Oliver Baldwin, Midshipman in the Chesapeake frigate. But I guess you know that. The part about being a midshipman in Chesapeake, I mean.”
You sound the perfect fool, Oliver. Get yourself together. You have spoken with pretty girls before.
“Well, surely I knew you were from the ship. Goodness, I think everyone knows that! And I was in the ballroom when your captain introduced you, so, since I did not get the chance to speak with you before you left the room, I followed you out here.” She smiled again and I felt my knees go weak.
Her voice was soft, gentle like an easy breeze, and as musical as the wind in the rigging. Long dark hair, gently teased by the light wind, and haloed by the light from the ballroom, framed her face and fell to her shoulders, unlike the style worn by some of the other ladies at the ball. A flower was tucked into a strand of hair on her left side and in the dim light, seemed to perfectly match the color of her gown.
Her face, oh my goodness, her face. It was perfect. Eyes set exactly the right distance apart and exactly the right distance below her hair, a small nose, which turned up a bit at the end, and a mouth that was surrounded by full lips, which apparently were set in a perpetual smile. I was captivated. I was staring.
“Sir, you are staring at me. Is something wrong?” That musical voice was edged with a touch of concern.
“Oh, no, Ma’am. Nothing, nothing at all. I apologize. It’s just … well, it’s simply … I have never …”
Get ahold of yourself, you dolt!
“No, Ma’am. Nothing at all is wrong.” I repeated.
“Oh, I am so glad. The way you were looking at me, I thought … well, never mind what I thought!” She smiled again, only this time, her eyes danced in merriment.
“Where are my manners?” She took my hand, still extended between us. “My name is Ann. Ann Perry. A pleasure, Mister Baldwin, to make your acquaintance, I’m sure.”
Either she was still holding my hand, or I hers, but neither of us let go for a moment longer than might have been normal for a handshake. My head was swimming. Her hand, so soft in mine, so small and feminine, made me forget anything else: the garden, the bench, the tree, the harbor, the ship, the moonlight, the ball, that I was a midshipman in the Navy and serving under the most famous captain ever to hold the rank. I could scarcely catch my breath.
“Are you enjoying the ball, Midshipman Baldwin? It is certainly a festive affair, but it is not every day we have the pleasure of such distinguished guests!”
“Oh, yes, Ma’am. It does seem festive and most pleasant.”
Oliver, you fool! Think of something intelligent to say.
“Do you live here, in Newport, Miss Perry?” Finally, words came to me that seemed to make sense.
“Quite near here, actually. South Kingstown.” she replied, letting go of my hand, which, of course, forced me to let go of hers, reluctantly. “One of my brothers, the eldest of us, whose name is also Oliver, is in the Navy, too. His ship is normally berthed here in Newport, but he is presently at sea. My family has lived here, or near here, for several generations.”
“How interesting. What ship would he be in, if I may be so bold as to inquire?”
“She is a schooner, named Revenge. He just took command of her this summer. They are, as I mentioned, at sea now. About a month into their cruise, I believe.”
In command? Lieutenant or master commandant, I wonder.
“Did he see action anywhere yet? Perhaps in that business with France in ninety-eight? Or perhaps in the Mediterranean?” I was trying to determine how long he had been in the Navy, and hoped I was not being too obvious.
“Oh, he had just received his warrant near the end of the unpleasantness with France and saw only brief service in the Caribbean during that time. However, he did experience service in the war with the Barbary corsairs, as you did, but sadly—at least from his point of view—saw none of the actual fighting. When he returned from his service in the Mediterranean, he received his commission, but was put on extended leave for most of the next two years, a circumstance we thought would drive him mad! Like a caged beast he was, frustrated and writing weekly letters to the Navy for an assignment.
“When he finally received orders, we were all relieved, but Oliver felt he should have been at sea.”
My expression must have told my thoughts, because she quickly continued.
“He was assigned right here in Newport, superintending the construction of a flotilla of gunboats. Here and in Connecticut. He absolutely hated it. Considered it far too tedious and not at all how he wished to spend his time. He continued to write his letters and after a long, very long, year, was most pleased that the Navy Department finally saw fit to send him to sea … and in command.” She smiled in the dark, lighting up her entire face again.
“Well, Miss Perry, it would appear we have something beyond names in common then. I, too, have a brother, also older, named Edward, who is presently doing the same chore in New York, under Commodore Chauncey. He, like your own brother, finds it equally tedious and has petitioned for a seagoing ship repeatedly, but to no avail.”
“Had he been to sea or seen some action, as you would call it, prior to his current assignment?”
“Indeed, he had. He was third lieutenant in Philadelphia in eighteen three.”
“Oh goodness!” Her hand flew to her breast. “Was not that the ship taken by those dreadful pirates on the Barbary Coast? I seem to recall hearing about that from my brother. Was he aboard then?”
I heard genuine concern in her voice.
“Aye, Ma’am, he was that. Spent nearly two years in the Bashaw’s dungeon, until the treaty was signed in the year ought f
ive. Terrible time it was for me and our parents, but I reckon it was the worst for him!”
I was pleased to notice that I could carry on a conversation with this beauty now without stumbling over my tongue. She was so easy to talk to!
“I am becoming a bit chilled, Mister Baldwin. Would you mind escorting me back into the party? Perhaps a dance would warm me up.” As if to add some emphasis to her words, she shivered delicately as she looked up and into my eyes expectantly.
I could stand here with this lovely woman for the rest of my life, cold, hot, or anything else!
“Of course, Ma’am. It would be an honor.” I stepped toward her, but she didn’t move as I expected her to and I inadvertently brushed … well, more than brushed, against her.
“Oh my, Miss Perry. Please excuse me. I thought … that is, I expected you …”
“Oh my goodness,” she laughed. “It was my fault entirely.” She laughed again, that wonderful tinkling sound, and took my arm to walk toward the lights of the house.
It was about halfway to our destination that she stumbled, whether on purpose or by accident I do not know. But she clung tighter to my arm and brought her other arm across her body to ensure her security, intertwining now both arms in mine. Which, of course, required that her body be touching my own. It was glorious and, using her misstep as the excuse, I slowed my pace to extend this moment.
The path, which earlier had presented a quite modest walk to it’s terminus, now seemed barely a few steps, so quickly did the time pass, even at our reduced pace. We reached the door and were immediately assailed by the cacophony of sounds from within. Laughter, voices raised in conversation, and the music of the orchestra providing a lively dance tune seemed overwhelming after the quiet of the garden, when all I could hear was the sweet sound of her voice and my own blood rushing through my body.
“I would be honored should you wish to accompany me onto the dance floor, Miss Perry.” To ensure that she heard me, I leaned close to her head, placing my mouth in proximity to her ear.
In Pursuit of Glory Page 22