TWO DUELS
"Oh, Bainbridge, you're going ashore with us, aren't you?"
At these words a young man who was walking up and down the frigate'squarter-deck turned quickly. He was dressed in the same uniform as theone who had just asked the question,--that of a midshipman of theAmerican navy.
"Not if you are starting at once, Raymond," he replied. "I won't be offduty for a quarter of an hour. Is the boat ready?"
"Not yet--maybe you will have time--have you asked for leave?"
"I have that right enough, but I can't be in two places at once. I'dlike to go, though, if I could."
"It's too bad; all the fellows were counting on your coming." AndMidshipman Raymond left the quarter-deck, and strolled forward to themast, where five or six other middies were waiting, all dressed intheir best uniforms, with rows of polished brass buttons, and neatlittle dirks swung at their left hips by slender chains. They wereimpatient at the delay. Every one wished to be ashore, as it was theintention to dine together and afterwards to attend a concert at theMalta Theatre; for the _Constitution_ was lying at anchor just offthe town, and not far from the walls of the heavy fortificationsthat make the island England's greatest stronghold in the EasternMediterranean--second in importance among her possessions only to theimpregnable Gibraltar.
"I hear Carlotti is going to sing to-night," observed one of themidshipmen knowingly, interrupting the chorus of grumblings at theslowness of the shore boat in returning. "She's great," he added.
"How do you know?" asked a short tow-headed reefer; "you never heardher."
"No, but Bainbridge has, and he told me."
"Wish Bainbridge was going with us----"
"So do we all," was the chorus to this, and just at this moment theship's bell clanged the hour, and the one to whom they referred ranpast them. He paused at the head of the ladder.
"I'll be up in a minute; don't you fellows go without me."
With these words he jumped below, and running into the steerage, heslammed open the lid of his chest and shifted into his best uniform in"presto change" fashion. He was just in time to hasten down the ladderand leap into the boat as she shoved off from the side. There were twolieutenants going ashore, and they don't wait for tardy midshipmen.
"Quick work, Joseph," said Middy Raymond, laying his hand onBainbridge's knee.
"Rather," was the panted reply. "Do I look shipshape? Feels as if I'dforgotten something."
"All ataunto--far as I can see."
Joseph Bainbridge was a younger brother of Commodore WilliamBainbridge, and like him he had gifts of popularity. He possessed amagnetic personality that attracted to him the notice of both officersand men, and a bold, adventurous spirit that won their admiration.Added to this was the fact that he was tall and strong, and conceded tobe the handsomest young officer in the service.
When the boat drew up at the pier, the middies flocked off bythemselves, and the two young lieutenants fell behind.
"You didn't hear the lecture,--the lecture the old man gave us whileyou were below, Bainbridge," said Midshipman Raymond. "Phew! but hepiled it on thick in telling us how to behave ourselves. Any one mightthink that we were going ashore to offer challenges right and left toall the British army."
"What do you mean?" asked Bainbridge, slipping his arm through hisfriend's, and looking down at him, for he stood head and shouldersabove the other youngsters.
"Why, just this," was the response. "The old man" (in this manner wasthe Commodore referred to) "says that there are plenty of fire-eating,snap-shooting 'eight-paces' chaps, just longing for a chance to pick aquarrel with a Yankee officer; and as he told us it took two to maketrouble, he said he would hold us responsible if there was any row. Wewill have to mind our tacks and sheets. He expects us to be blind toall ugly looks, and deaf to all remarks, I suppose. Besides, we are allunder promise to return by the last boat, that leaves at eleveno'clock."
"Well," observed the tall midshipman, laughing, "there seems to be nogreat hardship in that; we have some hours before us. Let's turn inhere and get our grub--then, ho for the theatre!"
The crowd of laughing young fellows entered a cafe, and seatedthemselves quietly at a corner table. But their entrance had beenobserved. A group of officers, in scarlet coats and gilt braid andshoulder knots, gazed insolently at them.
"Young Yankee puppies," observed one, turning to his companions.
"Rather airy,--I should say breezy," was the rejoinder.
Before long, the fun grew fast and furious at the middies' table;laughter and even the snatch of a song broke from them. Pretty soon oneof the English officers arose--the one who had first noticed theirpresence. He walked over to their table, and rapped on the edge withthe hilt of his sword.
"Less noise, less noise here!" he said.
Bainbridge was about to spring to his feet, when Raymond restrainedhim. "Have a care," he said softly.
No one noticed the Englishman's presence, and slightly abashed hereturned to his seat. But he covered his confusion with an air ofbravado. "Taught 'em a lesson," he sniggered.
In a few minutes the whole party had adjourned to the play-house.
Carlotti sang her best, every one was enjoying the music and anxiousfor more, when the curtain fell on the first act. The _Constitution_lads applauded so long that one might have thought they wished to havethe whole thing over again, which they would have liked exceedingly.But seeing at last that the prima donna would not respond,--she hadbeen out five times,--the lads arose and strutted into the lobby in abody.
"There's that officious Britisher," said Bainbridge, nodding his headtoward a group of scarlet coats that stood blocking up a doorway.
"Oh, I just heard about him," put in one of the smallest reefers. "He'sTyrone Tyler, the dead shot,--I overheard some one pointing him out.He's killed eleven men, they say."
The officer in question was tall and exceedingly slender, and he mighthave been called good-looking if it were not for the insolent eyes, theleering mouth, and arrogant chin that made him so conspicuous. He madesome remark that caused the others to laugh as he put up his eyeglassand stared into the faces of the Yankee middies. Some reddened anddropped their glances, but Bainbridge returned the stare with interest.The Englishman frowned and let his glass fall from his eye.
"Care for cub-hunting, Twombly?" he inquired of a red-faced man at hiselbow. "Here's a chance for you!"
The midshipmen heard this, but said nothing, and soon they were alllost in the theatre crowd.
During the next intermission all kept their seats but Raymond andBainbridge, who again strolled out. The taller lad, who looked someyears older than his age, which was but nineteen, attracted someattention; many looks of admiration were thrown at him as he passedthrough the lobby. Suddenly he collided with somebody, who pushed himoff.
"Beg pardon," said Bainbridge, making way.
There was no reply, and the lad's handsome brows contracted as he sawthe evil face of Captain Tyrone Tyler smiling sneeringly at him. In thecourse of a few minutes they met again, and once more came together.
"Beg pardon, sir."
The words had a peculiar intonation this time. They were spoken in thetone of voice one uses when compelled to move something that maydisturb another. Bainbridge lifted the infantry captain past with afirm grasp on both his elbows. He moved him as easily as one might lifta lashed hammock to one side.
"Beg pardon, sir," said he again.
The officer grew livid, and had it not been that some one grasped hisarm, he would have struck the midshipman across the face. ButBainbridge and Raymond moved quickly away.
As they turned to leave the hall after the performance was over theword was brought that Tyler and three others were waiting at theentrance. After a consultation it was agreed that it would be best toremain, and avoid a meeting if possible. So talking in low voices, themidshipmen stayed on until warned by the dimming lights that the placewas being closed. At last a plan was settled on. Bainbridge, who waseager to go out
first, was persuaded to remain with Raymond, and followshortly after the others had left. They singled out, and when the lasttwo stepped past the door, Tyler was still waiting.
"Now for the training," said he, stepping forward. As he spoke he putone elbow in Bainbridge's face, and with the other grasped for hiscollar.
But he reckoned wrongly. The middy ducked quickly and picked up his capthat had been pushed off by the blow. Then he straightened himself.
"You are a cowardly bully," he said calmly. "But I understand you. Mycard, sir; I am at your service."
As he spoke, he extended a bit of engraved pasteboard. Captain Tylertook it, handed it to one of his friends, and gave his name, adding:--
"I trust that you will meet me on the beach under the west fortto-morrow morning at nine o'clock."
"Can you make it earlier?"
"Certainly; at eight, then."
The Englishman laughed as he moved off with his companions.
"Be on hand, my young monkey jacket; I should hate to be turned out soearly for nothing."
"Never fear," was Bainbridge's return.
"Oh, Joseph, what have you done?" wailed little Raymond, suddenly."They will never let you off the ship, and we've broken orders, and arein a frightful mess."
"'I observed it,' said the Lieutenant."]
"I'm not going on board again, Sammy; I'm to meet that bully, and Iwill do it. It's either disgrace or death, and I'm reckless now. Butrun along, you; leave me to myself."
"I shall stay if you do," replied Raymond, stoutly. "It will never besaid that----"
"Come, young gentlemen, 'tis about time you were making for the boat.Commodore Preble's orders were very strict; don't forget them."
The speaker was a tall, graceful young man, wrapped in a longwatch-cloak. It was Stephen Decatur, the First Lieutenant, and the idolof the ship. He descended the few steps from the entrance to the lobby,and continued as he acknowledged the midshipmen's salute:--
"Come, let's all be moving--stir your stumps now, Mr. Raymond."
As they reached the archway of the pier, Bainbridge held back.
"Come, Mr. Bainbridge, a word with you," said Decatur, taking the ladkindly by the arm. He was but five or six years the senior, but hismanner was almost fatherly. "Have you anything to tell me?"
"Yes, sir. I have broken orders."
"I observed it," said the Lieutenant. "Have you anything else to say."
"Yes, sir; unless you insist, I'd rather stay on shore to-night."
"You will return to the ship."
"Very good, sir."
In silence the party was rowed back, and in silence they climbed theside and came on deck.
Then the First Lieutenant spoke. "Mr. Bainbridge, wait on deck hereuntil my return."
"What's up, Raymond?" asked the lads as soon as they had gone below tothe steerage where they swung their hammocks. "Did Bainbridge have arow, after all? What's going to happen?"
"Don't ask me," was the reply; "you know as much as I do." Raymondconcluded that it was best to keep mum on the subject, and with this hetumbled into his hammock.
Bainbridge waited up on deck for half an hour. He had not the leastidea what was going to be done with him. But he was grieving bitterly.If he did not meet the Englishman, he was disgraced,--his name wasknown, "he owed it to the honor of the service"; for that was the waythe code was established. But how could he have disobeyed the order ofDecatur to proceed on board ship? That would have been impossible,also. Yet, strange to say, he did not regret his action, and he had notonce felt a thrill of fear. True, Tyler was a noted man-killer, butthat did not worry Bainbridge in the least. He may have been afatalist, but that was not the only reason: he knew without braggingthat he was a good shot.
Suddenly he heard some one approaching. He lifted his despondent headout of his hands. Was he going to be called into the cabin to take arating from the fiery tongue of the Commodore. Could he stand that!
"Mr. Bainbridge."
"Yes, sir."
"Commodore Preble's orders are for me to go on shore to-morrow at seventhirty in the morning. By the way, you will go with me----"
"Oh, thank you, sir," interrupted the midshipman, his voice breaking;"thank you."
"I shall attend to everything, if you will allow me the honor."
Bainbridge put out his hand; Decatur took it without a word.
The next morning, on a narrow stretch of beach, there was a curiouslittle gathering, or, better, two separate groups: one composed of fivemen talking together, and at a few paces' distance two silent figures.
The five men were conversing in whispers.
"Nevertheless, I intend doing it," said the tall slender man who was inthe centre. "Do you see the button at his throat? A Yankee more or lessdoes not count."
"Are you ready, gentlemen?"
The others stepped back, and there stood two tall figures fronting oneanother: each held a long heavy pistol in the right hand. The faces ofthe men were pale, but the midshipman was just as cool as hisexperienced opponent; a determined gleam was in his light blue eyes.
The officer who had last spoken began counting, and then there came aflash and one report. The pistols had been discharged at the sameinstant.
Bainbridge reeled slightly, and passed his hand about his throat.
"I am all right," he said calmly.
"Thank God! Then let's be off," was Decatur's sole return.
Lying on the sand was Tyler "the dead shot," the surgeon fumbling athis chest. Decatur and the midshipman raised their hats as they passedby.
* * * * *
So much for the first duel; now for the sequel. In this modern day wecan scarcely imagine the complaisant attitude assumed by press andpublic towards such happenings as this. Were they less careful of humanlife, or did they view matters in such a different light that theirperceptions were altogether blunted? No, not that exactly; many menfought duels who did not believe in the resort to arms at all. Theywere compelled to by the deluded custom of the times. Few men were_brave_ enough to refuse a challenge. But one thing, a man who wasknown to have figured on the field of honor, sooner or later foundhimself there again, and generally it was once too often.
The second duel to be told about here, has a slight connection with thefirst, and yet belongs more properly to history. Commodore WilliamBainbridge, who was one of Decatur's most intimate friends, wasgrateful indeed for the manner in which he had stood by his brother,and when Decatur stood in need of some one to do the same thing by him,it was but natural that he should turn to Bainbridge.
But now to get back to history: Stephen Decatur had, against his will,been one of the members of the court martial that had sentencedCommodore Barron to suspension from the navy for five years because ofthe affair of the _Chesapeake_ and the _Leopard_. Barron had goneabroad, and was in England when the War of 1812 was declared. Hisperiod of suspension ended shortly after the declaration, but he didnot return to America until over a year had elapsed; and thenpresenting himself without explanation, he demanded the command of animportant ship. Decatur used every effort to prevent his securingactive employment, taking the ground, as he explained in a letterwritten to Barron himself, that the latter's conduct "had been such asto forever bar readmission into the service." He disclaimed any feelingof personal enmity, but was firm in his opposition. For years this wasthe state of affairs; the correspondence between Barron and Decaturgrew more bitter and ironical, and at last it culminated thus:--
Writes Barron on the sixteenth of January, 1820, dated Norfolk:--
SIR: Your letter of the 29th ultimo, I have received. In it you say that you have now to inform me that you shall pay no further attention to any communications that I may make to you, other than a direct call to the field; in answer to which I have only to reply that whenever you will consent to meet me on fair and equal grounds, that is, such as two honorable men may consider just and proper, you are at liberty to view thi
s as that call. The whole tenor of your conduct to me justifies this course of proceeding on my part. As for your charges and remarks, I regard them not, particularly your sympathy. You know no such feeling. I cannot be suspected of making the attempt to excite it.
I am, sir, yours, etc.,
JAMES BARRON.
To this, Decatur replied as follows:--
WASHINGTON, Jan. 24, 1820.
SIR: I have received your communication of the 16th, and am at a loss to know what your intention is. If you intend it as a challenge, I accept it, and refer you to my friend, Commodore Bainbridge, who is fully authorized to make any arrangements he pleases as regards weapons, mode, or distance.
Your obedient servant,
STEPHEN DECATUR.
And so the fatal meeting was arranged. Captain Elliot, Barron'srepresentative, and Bainbridge chose Bladensburg, a beautiful spotwithin driving distance of the Capitol, as the duelling ground. Lettersdescribing contemporary events give such vivid pictures of past scenes,that it is well to quote entire the letter of Samuel Hambleton, one ofDecatur's closest friends, who was present. This letter was writtenshortly after the meeting had taken place.
WASHINGTON, March 22, 1820.
... This morning, agreeably to his request, I attended Commodore Bainbridge in a carriage to the Capitol hill, where I ordered breakfast at Beale's hotel for three persons. At the moment it was ready, Commodore Decatur, having walked from his own house, arrived and partook of it with us. As soon as it was over he proceeded in our carriage towards Bladensburg. At breakfast he mentioned that he had a paper with him that he wished to sign (meaning his will), but that it required three witnesses, and as it would not do to call in any third person for that purpose he would defer it until we arrived at the ground. He was quite cheerful, and did not appear to have any desire to take the life of his antagonist; indeed, he declared he would be very sorry to do so. On arriving at the valley half a mile short of Bladensburg we halted and found Captain Elliot standing in the road on the brow of the hill beyond us. Commodore Bainbridge and myself walked up and gave him the necessary information, when he returned to the village. In a short time Commodore Barron, Captain Elliot, his second, and Mr. Lattimer arrived on the ground, which was measured (eight long strides) and marked by Commodore Bainbridge nearly north and south, and the seconds proceeded to load. Commodore Bainbridge won the choice of stands, and his friend chose that to the north, being a few inches lower than the other.
On taking their stands, Commodore Bainbridge told them to observe that he should give the words quick--"Present; one, two, three," and they were not, at their peril, to fire before the word "one" nor after the word "three" was pronounced. Commodore Barron asked him if he had any objections to pronouncing the words as he intended to give them. He said he had not, and did so.
Commodore Barron, about this moment, observed to his antagonist that he hoped, on meeting in another world, they would be better friends than they had been in this; to which Commodore Decatur replied, "I have never been your enemy, sir." Nothing further passed between them previous to the firing. Soon after Commodore Bainbridge cautioned them to be ready, crossed over to the left of his friend, and gave the words of command precisely as before; and at the word "two" they both fired so nearly together that but one report was heard.
They both fell nearly at the same instant. Commodore Decatur was raised and supported a short distance, and sank down near to where Commodore Barron lay; and both appeared to think themselves mortally wounded. Commodore Barron declared that everything had been conducted in the most honorable manner, and told Commodore Decatur that he forgave him from the bottom of his heart. Soon after this, a number of gentlemen coming up, I went after our carriage and assisted in getting him into it; where, leaving him under the care of several of his intimate friends, Commodore Bainbridge and myself left the grounds, and, as before agreed to, embarked on board the tender of the _Columbus_ at the Navy Yard. It is due to Commodore Bainbridge to observe that he expressed his determination to lessen the danger to each by giving the words quick, with a hope that both might miss and that then their quarrel might be amicably settled.
SAMUEL HAMBLETON.
Commodore Bainbridge told of hearing the following conversation asDecatur and Barron lay beside each other bleeding on the ground.
"Barron," said the Commodore, "we both, I believe, are about to appearbefore our God. I am going to ask you one question. Answer it if youfeel inclined.... Why did you not return to America upon the outbreakof hostilities with England?"
Barron was suffering great agony, but he turned and spoke clearly in alow tone. "Decatur, I will tell you what I expected never to tell aliving man. I was in an English prison for debt!"
"Ah, Barron," returned Decatur, "had I known that, had any one of yourbrother-officers known it, the purse of the service would have been atyour disposal, and you and I would not have been lying here to-day."
"Had I known you felt thus," answered Barron, "we would have no causeto be here."
Sad words these, sad unfortunate words, because they came too late.Poor Decatur! he died at half past ten o'clock that night. When he wasstruck by the ball which lodged in his abdomen, he is said to havespoken thus, "I am hurt mortally, and wish that I had fallen in defenceof my country." Yes, that was his great sorrow; he saw the uselessnessof it all.
So much for the code duello, so much for false pride and extreme ideasof what should touch one's honor. Can we think that such things reallyhappened, and so short a time ago! Have we not reason to rejoice thatit is all over? That people no longer start at the sound of shots inshady lanes, run across tragedies on lawns or in tavern courtyards?There is just another word or so to add that points a stronger moraland rounds up the chapter: Joseph Bainbridge fell also in a duel. He,alas, had many of them; but like all the rest, there was a last one.The public mourned many times because good men were lost for causes inwhich the nation had no interest and that could have been passed bywith a wave of the hand. A sad history that of "the field of honor."