South American Fights and Fighters, and Other Tales of Adventure

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  II

  Some Famous American Duels

  We are accustomed to regard our country as peculiarly law-abiding andpeaceful. This, in spite of the fact that three presidents have beenmurdered within the last forty-five years, a record of assassination ofchief magistrates surpassed in no other land, not even in Russia. Weneed not be surprised to learn that in no country was the serious duel,the _combat a l'outrance_, so prevalent as in the United States at oneperiod of our national development. The code of honor, so-called, wasmost profoundly respected by our ancestors; and the number of eminentmen who engaged in duelling--and of whom many lost their lives on thefield--is astonishing. Scarce any meeting was without its fataltermination, perhaps owing to the fact that pistols and rifles weregenerally used, and Americans are noted for their marksmanship.

  There has been a revulsion of public sentiment which has brought aboutthe practical abolition of duelling in America. Although the practicestill obtains in continental European countries, it is here regarded asimmoral, and it is illegal as well. For one reason, in spite of theapparent contradiction above, we are a law-abiding people. The geniusof the Anglo-Saxon--I, who am a Celt, admit it--is for the orderlyadministration of the law, and much of the evil noted comes from theintroduction within our borders {246} of an imperfectly assimilatedforeign element which cherishes different views on the subject.Another deterrent cause is a cool common sense which has recognized thefutility of trying to settle with blade or bullet differences whichbelong to the courts; to this may be added a keen sense of humor whichhas seen the absurdity and laughed the practice out of existence. Thefreedom of the press has also been a contributing factor. Perhaps thegreatest deterrent, however, has been the development of a sense ofresponsibility for life and its uses to a Higher Power.

  As General Grant has put it, with the matchless simplicity ofgreatness: "I do not believe I ever would have the courage to fight aduel. If any man should wrong me to the extent of my being willing tokill him, I should not be willing to give him the choice of weaponswith which it should be done, and of the time, place, and distanceseparating us when I executed him. If I should do any other such awrong as to justify him in killing me, I would make any reasonableatonement within my power, if convinced of the wrong done."

  With this little preliminary, I shall briefly review a few of the mostnoted duels in our history.

  I. A Tragedy of Old New York

  On Wednesday, the 11th of July, 1804, at seven o'clock on a bright,sunny, summer morning, two men, pistol in hand, confronted each otheron a narrow shelf of rocky ground jutting out from the cliffs thatoverlook the Hudson at Weehawken, on the Jersey shore. One was asmall, slender man, the other taller and more imposing in appearance.Both had been soldiers; each faced the other in grave quietude, {247}without giving outward evidence of any special emotion.

  One was at that time the Vice-president of the United States; the otherhad been Secretary of the Treasury, a general in command of the army,and was the leading lawyer of his time. The Vice-president wasbrilliantly clever; the ex-Secretary was a genius of the first order.

  A political quarrel had brought them to this sorry position. Wordsuttered in the heat of campaign, conveying not so much a personalattack as a well-merited public censure, had been dwelt upon until theVice-president had challenged his political antagonist. The greatattorney did not believe in duels. He was a Christian, a man offamily; he had everything to lose and little to gain from this meeting.Upon his great past he might hope to build an even greater future. Hewas possessed of sufficient moral courage to refuse the meeting, buthad, nevertheless, deliberately accepted the other's challenge. It isbelieved that he did so from a high and lofty motive; that he feltpersuaded of the instability of the Government which he had helped tofound, and that he realized that he possessed qualities which in such acrisis would be of rare service to his adopted country. His futureusefulness, he thought--erroneously, doubtless, but he believedit--would be impaired if any one could cast a doubt upon his courage bypointing to the fact that he had refused a challenge.

  Thirty months before, his son, a bright lad of eighteen, fresh fromColumbia College, had been shot dead in a duel which he had broughtupon himself by resenting a public criticism of his father. He hadfallen on that very spot where his father stood. I think that {248}the tragedy must have been in the great statesman's mind that summermorning.

  The word was given. The two pistols were discharged. TheVice-president, taking deliberate aim, fired first. The ex-Secretaryof the Treasury, who had previously stated to his second that he didnot intend to fire at his adversary, discharged his pistol in the air.He had been hit by the bullet of his enemy, and did not know that as hefell, by a convulsive movement, he had pulled the trigger of the weaponin his hand.

  That was the end--for he died the next day after lingering agonies--ofAlexander Hamilton, the greatest intellect and one of the greatestpersonalities associated with the beginning of this Government. It wasalso the end of his successful antagonist, Aaron Burr, for thereafterhe was a marked man, an avoided, a hated man. When abroad in 1808, hegave Jeremy Bentham an account of the duel, and said that he "was sureof being able to kill him." "And so," replied Bentham, "I thought itlittle better than a murder." "Posterity," the historian adds, "willnot be likely to disturb the judgment of the British philosopher."

  II. Andrew Jackson as a Duellist

  Comparatively speaking, the next great duel on my list attracted littlemore than local attention at the time. Years after, when one of themwho took part in it had risen to national fame, and was a candidate forthe Presidency, it was revived and made much of. On Friday, the 30thof May, 1806, Charles Dickinson, a young man of brilliant abilities,born in Maryland and residing in Tennessee, met Andrew Jackson, of the{249} latter state, near the banks of a small stream called the RedRiver, in a sequestered woodland glade in Logan County, Ky., a day'sride from Nashville.

  Unwittingly, and with entire innocence on the part of both parties,Andrew Jackson had placed his wife in an equivocal position by marryingher before a divorce had separated her from her husband[1]. Absolutelyno blame, except, perhaps, a censure for carelessness, attaches toJackson or his wife, and their whole life together was an example ofconjugal affection. However, his enemies--and he had many--found iteasy to strike at him through this unfortunate episode. There did notlive a more implacable and unforgiving man, when his wife wasslandered, than Andrew Jackson.

  Dickinson, who was a political rival, spoke slurringly of Mrs. Jackson.He apologized for it on the plea that he had been in his cups at thetime, but Jackson never forgave him. A political difference as anostensible cause of quarrel soon developed. Dickinson sent a challengewhich was gladly accepted. The resulting duel was probably the mostdramatic that ever occurred in the United States. Dickinson was a deadshot. So, for that matter, was Jackson, but Dickinson was remarkablefor the quickness of his fire, while Jackson was slower. Thearrangements stipulated that the combatants should be placed at theclose distance of eight paces; that the word "fire!" should be given,after which each was to fire one shot at will. Rather than be hurriedand have his aim disturbed, Jackson determined to sustain Dickinson'sfire and then return it at his leisure.

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  "What if he kills you or disables you?" asked his second.

  "Sir," replied Jackson deliberately, "I shall kill him though he shouldhit me in the brain!"

  This is no gasconade or bravado, but simply an evidence of an intensityof purpose, of which no man ever had a greater supply than AndrewJackson.

  Dickinson fired instantly the word was given. A fleck of dust arosefrom the loose coat which covered the spare form of the General, but hestood apparently untouched. Dickinson, amazed, shrank back from thepeg indicating his position. Old General Overton, Jackson's second,raised his pistol.

  "Back to the mark, sir!" he thundered, as the unhappy young manexclaimed in dismay.

  "Great God! Ha
ve I missed him?"

  Dickinson recovered himself immediately, stepped back to the mark, andfolded his arms to receive Jackson's fire. The hammer of theTennesseean's pistol stopped at half-cock. He deliberately re-cockedhis weapon, took careful aim again, and shot Dickinson through thebody. Seeing his enemy fall, Jackson turned and walked away. It wasnot until he had gone one hundred yards from the duelling ground andwas hidden by the thick poplar trees, that his second noticed that oneof his shoes was filled with blood. Dickinson had hit the General inthe breast, inflicting a severe wound, and might have killed him hadnot the bullet glanced on a rib. The iron-nerved Jackson declared thathis reason for concealing his wound was that he did not intend to giveDickinson the satisfaction of knowing that he had hit his enemy beforehe died.

  Twenty-two years after, as Jackson stood by his dead wife's body, he"lifted his cane as if appealing to {251} heaven, and by a lookcommanding silence, said, slowly and painfully, and with a voice fullof bitter tears:

  "'In the presence of this dear saint I can and do forgive all myenemies. But those vile wretches who have slandered her must look toGod for mercy!'"

  III. The Killing of Stephen Decatur

  The idol of the American Navy was Stephen Decatur. James Barron, adisgraced officer under suspension for his lack of conduct during thefamous affair between the British ship _Leopard_ and the American ship_Chesapeake_, had taken no part in the war of 1812, for causes whichafforded him sufficient excuse; but subsequently he soughtre-employment in the navy. Decatur, who had been one of the courtwhich tried and sentenced him before the war, and who was now a navalcommissioner, opposed his plea. The situation brought forth achallenge from Barron. Decatur was under no necessity of meeting it.As commissioner, he was in effect, Barron's superior, and Washingtonhad laid down a rule for General Greene's guidance in a similar casethat a superior officer is not amenable to challenge from a juniorofficer whom he has offended in course of duty. The principle is soundcommon sense, as everybody, even duellists, will admit. Nevertheless,such was the state of public opinion about questions of "honor" thatDecatur felt constrained to accept the challenge.

  The two naval officers met on the duelling ground at Bladensburg, "thecockpit of Washington duellists," on the 22nd of March, 1820. Barronwas near-sighted, and insisted upon a closer distance than the usualten paces. They were placed a scant eight {252} paces apart. Decatur,who was a dead shot, did not wish to kill Barron; at the same time hedid not deem it safe to stand his adversary's fire without return.Therefore he stated to his second that he would shoot Barron in thehip. Before the duel, Barron expressed the hope that if they met inanother world they might be better friends. Decatur replied gravelythat he had never been Barron's enemy. Under such circumstances itwould appear that the quarrel might have been composed without theshedding of blood.

  At the word "two" the men fired together, Decatur's bullet struckBarron in the hip, inflicting a severe but not mortal wound. At thesame instant Barron's bullet passed through Decatur's abdomen,inflicting a wound necessarily fatal then, probably so, even now. Ashe lay on the ground the great commodore said faintly:

  "I am mortally wounded--at least, I believe so--and I wish I had fallenin defence of my country."

  He died at ten o'clock that night, regretted by all who love brave menthe world over.

  IV. An Episode in the Life of James Bowie

  Of a different character, but equally interesting, was an encounter inAugust, 1829, which has become famous because of one of the weaponsused with deadly effect. On an island in the Mississippi River,opposite Natchez, which was nothing but a sand bar with someundergrowth upon it, a party of men met to witness and second a duelbetween a Dr. Maddox and one Samuel Wells. The spectators were allinterested in one or the other combatant, and had taken part in aneighborhood feud which arose out of a speculation in land.

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  The two principals exchanged two shots without injury, whereupon theseconds and spectators, unable to restrain their animosity, started afree fight. Judge Crane, of Mississippi, was the leader on one side;James Bowie, of Georgia, the principal man on the other. Crane wasarmed with a brace of duelling pistols; Bowie had nothing but a knife.Bowie and a friend of his, named Currey, attacked Crane after theMaddox-Wells duel had been abandoned. Crane was wounded in the leftarm by a shot from Currey; he thereupon shot Currey dead and with hisremaining pistol he wounded Bowie in the groin. Nevertheless, Bowieresolutely came on. Crane struck him over the head with his pistol,felling him to the ground. Undaunted, Bowie scrambled to his feet andmade again for Crane.

  Major Wright, a friend of Crane's, now interposed, and thrust at Bowiewith a sword cane. The blade tore open Bowie's breast. The terribleGeorgian, twice wounded though he was, caught Wright by the neck-cloth,grappled with him, and threw him to the ground, falling upon him.

  "Now, Major, you die," said Bowie coolly, wrenching his arm free andplunging his knife into Wright's heart.

  The knife had been made by Bowie's brother Rezin out of a blacksmith'srasp. It was shaped in accordance with his own ideas, and James Bowieused it with terrible effect. It was the first of the celebrated"Bowie knives" which played so great a part in frontier quarrels.

  In the general _melee_ which followed the death of Wright and Currey,six other men were killed and fifteen severely wounded. Bowie was anoted duellist {254} in his day, and died heroically in the famoussiege of the Alamo[2].

  On one occasion he was a passenger on a Mississippi steamboat with ayoung man and his bride. The young man had collected a large sum ofmoney for friends and employers, which he gambled away on the boat.Bowie kept him from suicide, took his place at the gaming-table,exposed the cheating of the gamblers, was challenged by one of them,fought him on the hurricane deck of the steamer, shot him into theriver, and restored the money to the distracted husband.

  Brief reference may be made to an affair between Major Thomas Biddle,of the United States Army, and Congressman Spencer Pettis, of Missouri,on August 27, 1831. The cause of the duel was a political difficulty.The two men stood five feet apart, their pistols overlapping. Bothwere mortally wounded. This was nothing less than a double murder, andshows to what length men will go under the heat of passion or thestimulus of a false code of honor.

  V. A Famous Congressional Duel

  On February the 24, 1838, at a quarter after three o'clock on theMarlborough Road in Maryland, just outside the District of Columbia,two members of Congress, Jonathan Cilley of Maine, and William J.Graves of Kentucky, exchanged shots with rifles at a distance of ninetyyards three times in succession. At the third exchange, Cilley wasshot and died in three minutes. Of all the causes for deadlyencounters, that which brought these two men opposite each other wasthe {255} most foolish. Cilley, on the floor of the House, hadreflected upon the character of a newspaper editor in the discussion ofcharges which had been made against certain Congressmen with whom hehad no personal connection. The newspaper editor, whose subsequentconduct showed that he fully merited even more severe strictures thanCilley had passed upon him, sent a challenge to the gentleman fromMaine by the hand of Congressman Graves.

  Cilley took the justifiable position that his language had been properand privileged, and that he did not propose to accept a challenge ordiscuss the matter with any one. He assured Graves that thisdeclination to pursue the matter further was not to be construed as areflection upon the bearer of the challenge. There was no quarrelwhatever between Cilley and Graves. Nevertheless, Graves took theground that the refusal to accept the challenge which he had broughtwas a reflection upon him. He thereupon challenged Cilley on his ownbehalf. Efforts were made to compose the quarrel but Cilley was notwilling to go further than he had already done. He positively refusedto discuss the editor in question. He would only repeat that heintended no reflection upon Mr. Graves, whom he respected and esteemed,by refusing the editor's challenge. This was not satisfactory toGraves, and the duel was, accordingly, arranged.
r />   During its course, after each fruitless exchange of shots, efforts weremade to end the affair, but Graves refused to accept Cilley'sstatement, again repeated, that he had no reflection to cast upon Mr.Graves, and Cilley refused to abandon the position he had taken withregard to the editor. Never did a more foolish punctilio bring aboutso terrible a result. Aside from {256} accepting the challenge, Cilleyhad pursued a dignified and proper course. Graves, to put it mildly,had played the fool. He was practically a disgraced man thereafter.The Congressional committee which investigated the matter censured himin the severest terms, and recommended his expulsion from Congress.Perhaps the public indignation excited by this wretched affair did moreto discredit duelling than any previous event.

  VI. The Last Notable Duel in America

  The last notable American duel was that between United States SenatorBroderick, of California, and ex-Chief Justice Terry, of the SupremeCourt of the same state, on September 13, 1859. This, too, arose frompolitical differences. Broderick and Terry belonged to differentfactions of the growing Republican party, each struggling for controlin California. Broderick was strongly anti-slavery, and his opponentswanted him removed. Terry was defeated in his campaign for reflectionlargely, as he supposed, through Broderick's efforts. The two men hadbeen good friends previously. Broderick had stood by Terry on oneoccasion when everybody else had been against him and his situation hadbeen critical. In his anger over his defeat, Terry accused Broderickof disgraceful and underhand practices. Broderick was provoked intothe following rejoinder:

  "I see that Terry has been abusing me. I now take back the remark Ionce made that he is the only honest judge in the Supreme Court. I washis friend when he was in need of friends, for which I am sorry. Hadthe vigilance committee disposed of him as they did of others, theywould have done a righteous act."

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  He alluded to Terry's arrest by the Vigilantes in August, 1856, chargedwith cutting a man named Sterling A. Hopkins, in the attempt to freefrom arrest one Reuben Maloney. Had Hopkins died, Terry would probablyhave been hung. As it was, it took the strongest influence--Masonic,press and other--to save him from banishment.

  Terry, after some acrimonious correspondence, challenged Broderick. Ameeting on the 12th of September was stopped by the Chief of Police ofSan Francisco. The police magistrate before whom the duellists werearraigned, discharged them on the ground that there had been no actualmisdemeanor.

  Next day the principals and the seconds met again at the foot of LakeMerced, about twelve miles from San Francisco. About eightyspectators, friends of the participants, were present. The distancewas the usual ten paces. Both pistols had hair triggers, butBroderick's was more delicately set than Terry's, so much so that a jarmight discharge it. Broderick's seconds were inexperienced men, and noone realized the importance of this difference.

  At the word both raised their weapons. Broderick's was dischargedbefore he had elevated it sufficiently, and his bullet struck theground about six feet in front of Terry. Terry was surer and shot hisantagonist through the lung. Terry, who acted throughout withcold-blooded indifference, watched his antagonist fall and remarkedthat the wound was not mortal, as he had struck two inches to theright. He then left the field.

  When Broderick fell, one of the bystanders, named Davis, shouted out:

  "That is murder, by God!"

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  Drawing his own weapon, he started for Terry, exclaiming: "I amBroderick's friend. I'm not going to see him killed in that way. Ifyou are men you will join me in avenging his death!"

  Some cool heads in the multitude restrained him, pointing out that ifhe attacked Terry there would be a general _melee_, from which few onthe ground would escape, and they finally succeeded in getting him away.

  Broderick lingered for three days.

  "They have killed me," he said, "because I was opposed to slavery and acorrupt administration."

  Colonel Edward D. Baker, who was killed at Ball's Bluff in the CivilWar, received his friend's last words.

  "I tried to stand firm when I was wounded, but I could not. The blowblinded me."

  Terry was tried for murder, but by influence and other means he wasnever convicted, and escaped all punishment save that inflicted by hisconscience.

  In judging these affairs, it must be remembered that many of the mostprominent Americans of the past--Benton, Clay, Calhoun and Houstonamong them--fought duels. And it is well known that only AbrahamLincoln's wit and humor saved him from a deadly encounter with GeneralJames Shields, whose challenge he accepted.

  [1] The reader may consult my book "The True Andrew Jackson" for adetailed account of this interesting transaction.

  [2] See my "Border Fights and Fighters" in this series for an accountof this dramatic and heroic adventure.