Tordenskjold was abroad with his men. In the morning, when they were
all in church, he walked in and sat down by his chief, the old
Admiral Judicher, who was a slow-going, cautious man. He whispered
anxiously, "What news?" but Tordenskjold only shrugged his shoulders
with unmoved face. It is not likely that either the old Admiral or
the congregation heard much of that sermon, if indeed they heard any
of it. But when it was over, they saw from the walls of the town
the Danish ships at anchor and heard the story of the last of
Tordenskjold's exploits. It fitly capped the climax of his life.
Sweden's entire force on the North Sea, with the exception of five
small galleys, had either been captured, sunk, or burned by him.

The King would not let Tordenskjold go when peace was made, but he
had his way in the end. To his undoing he consented to take with him
abroad a young scalawag, the son of his landlord, who had more money
than brains. In Hamburg the young man fell in with a gambler, a
Swedish colonel by name of Stahl, who fleeced him of all he had and
much more besides. When Tordenskjold heard of it and met the Colonel
in another man's house, he caned him soundly and threw him out in
the street. For this he was challenged, but refused to fight a
gambler.

"Friends," particularly one Colonel Muennichhausen, who volunteered
to be his second, talked him over, and also persuaded him to give up
the pistol, with which he was an expert. The duel was fought at the
Village of Gledinge, over the line from Hanover, on the morning of
November 12, 1720. Tordenskjold was roused from sleep at five, and,
after saying his prayers, a duty he never on any account omitted, he
started for the place appointed. His old body-servant vainly pleaded
with his master to take his stout blade instead of the flimsy parade
sword the Admiral carried. Muennichhausen advised against it; it
would be too heavy, he said. Stahl's weapon was a long fighting
rapier, and to this the treacherous second made no objection. Almost
at the first thrust he ran the Admiral through. The seconds held his
servant while Stahl jumped on his horse and galloped away.
Tordenskjold breathed out his dauntless soul in the arms of his
faithful servant and friend.

His body lies in a black marble sarcophagus in the "Navy Church" at
Copenhagen. The Danish and Norwegian peoples have never ceased to
mourn their idol. He was a sailor with a sailor's faults. But he
loved truth, honor