DUELING.
Lina Helm was an easy, good-natured, clever fellow; but his brother Frank
was his opposite in nearly every thing; proud, fractious and unyielding.
As might be expected, Frank, soon after entering the army, got into an
"affair of honor," according to the duelist's code of laws. He was not,
however, the principal in the difficulty. One of his friends and a
brother officer, had a quarrel with a gentleman whom he challenged to
mortal combat. Frank was the bearer of his friend's challenge, and on
presenting it, the gentleman refused to accept it, saying that the
challenger "was no gentleman." Then, according to the rules of dueling, no
alternative was left for Frank, but to take his brother officer's place,
and fight. This he did and came from the bloody field disabled for life.
In consequence of his lameness, he was under the necessity of resigning
his commission in the army, which he did, and came home a cripple, and
nearly unfitted for any kind of business whatever.
While on the subject of dueling, permit me to record some of the incidents
of another "affair of honor," which occurred in the District of Columbia,
between Gen. Mason and Mr. M'Carter, two antagonistic politicians.
M'Carter offered his vote to the inspectors, and Mason challenged it.
M'Carter offered to swear it in, when Mason said if he did so he would
perjure himself. This blew what appeared to be but a spark into an angry
blaze, and a duel was momentarily expected; but their warlike propensities
subsided into a newspaper combat, which was kept up for several weeks,
each party supposing they had the advantage of their adversary. In this
stage of the quarrel, Gen. Jackson, with one of his aid-de-camps, Dr.
Bruno, visited Washington. Dr. Bruno was a friend of Gen. Mason's, and
to him the General submitted the correspondence, desiring his opinion
relative to the advantage one had obtained over the other. Dr. Bruno
decided against his friend, which probably exasperated him still more,
and the General expressed his determination to fight his antagonist. Dr.
Bruno wrote to M'Carter to come to Washington, and he came immediately,
and was as readily waited upon by the Doctor, who inquired if he would
receive a communication from his friend, Gen. Mason. M'Carter replied,
that he "would receive no communication from Gen. Mason, except a
challenge to fight." The challenge was therefore sent, and accepted, and
the Doctor appointed to make the necessary arrangements for the duel. He
proposed the weapons to be pistols, and the distance, ten paces; to
which M'Carter objected, because he said, "the General was a dead shot
with the pistol, while he hardly knew how to use one." Then it was left to
M'Carter to choose the mode of warfare. He proposed muskets and ten paces
distance. This was agreed upon, and finally the morning arrived for the
conflict, and people began to assemble in great numbers to witness this
murderous scene.
The belligerent parties unflinchingly took their place, each with his
loaded musket at his shoulder, and gazing in each other's face, with
feelings of the most bitter hatred, while their eyes flashed vengeance.
Oh! what a state of mind was this in which to meet inevitable death? How
could intelligent men, or gentlemen, if you please so to term them, look
placidly on such a horrid scene? Was there no heart of humanity to
interfere and arrest the murderous designs of these madmen? Alas, no! The
slaveholder's "code of honor" must be acknowledged, though it outrage the
laws of God and his country.
Dr. Bruno asks, "Gentlemen, are you ready?" and the duelists take their
deadly aim at each other. The signal to fire is given, and both weapons
are discharged, and when the smoke had cleared away, what a spectacle
was there presented to the duelist and spectator? Gen. Mason, a husband,
a father, a statesman, and a kind friend, lies bleeding, and gasping for
breath. He is no more! Who will bear to his loving and unsuspecting wife,
the sad intelligence of her sudden bereavement? Who will convey his
lifeless body to his late residence, and throw grief and consternation
into the bosom of his family, and drape in sadness his whole household?
And yet this painful task must be performed. The family of General Mason
remained entirely ignorant of what was transpiring regarding the duel,
until his mangled corpse was brought into his dwelling, from which he had
so recently gone forth in all the vigor of life and manhood. And here let
us drop the curtain, nor intrude on that scene of domestic affliction
around the deserted hearth-stone of the bereaved family of General Mason.
But where is Mr. M'Carter, the more fortunate party in the duel? Hurrying
away from the frightful scene, his hands dripping with the blood of his
fellow-man, he skulks about, until an opportunity is given him to step on
board a vessel bound to a foreign port; he leaves home, friends and
country, in the vain hope of finding peace of mind, and ridding himself of
that guilt and censure which must attach itself to a crime so heinous as
that of taking the life of another. I can but regard the inhuman practice
of dueling as the legitimate fruit of Slavery.
Men who have been raised in the Slave States, where, if the laws do not
give them the power, they do not restrain them from cruelly punishing
every offender with personal violence, even unto death, if their insulted
dignity seems to demand it. It is, however, encouraging to know that for
a few years past the practice of dueling has somewhat fallen into
disrepute among the more humane and candid class of community.