Shrewsbury, was challenged by her husband to mortal combat in January
1668. Charles II. endeavoured to prevent the duel, not from any regard to
public morality, but from fear for the life of his favourite. He gave
commands to the Duke of Albemarle to confine Buckingham to his house, or
take some other measures to prevent him from fighting. Albemarle neglected
the order, thinking that the king himself might prevent the combat by some
surer means. The meeting took place at Barn Elms; the injured Shrewsbury
being attended by Sir John Talbot, his relative, and Lord Bernard Howard,
son of the Earl of Arundel. Buckingham was accompanied by two of his
dependents, Captain Holmes and Sir John Jenkins. According to the
barbarous custom of the age, not only the principals, but the seconds
engaged each other. Jenkins was pierced to the heart, and left dead upon
the field, and Sir John Talbot severely wounded in both arms. Buckingham
himself escaping with slight wounds, ran his unfortunate antagonist
through the body, and then left the field with the wretched woman, the
cause of all the mischief, who, in the dress of a page, awaited the issue
of the conflict in a neighbouring wood, holding her paramour's horse to
avoid suspicion. Great influence was exerted to save the guilty parties
from punishment, and the master, as base as the favourite, made little
difficulty in granting a free pardon to all concerned. In a royal
proclamation issued shortly afterwards, Charles II. formally pardoned the
murderers, but declared his intention never to extend in future any mercy
to such offenders. It would be hard, after this, to say who was the most
infamous, the king, the favourite, or the courtesan.
In the reign of Queen Anne, repeated complaints were made of the
prevalence of duelling. Addison, Swift, Steele, and other writers employed
their powerful pens in reprobation of it. Steele especially, in the
_Tatler_ and _Guardian_, exposed its impiety and absurdity, and
endeavoured both by argument and by ridicule to bring his countrymen to a
right way of thinking.[66] His comedy of _The Conscious Lovers_ contains
an admirable exposure of the abuse of the word _honour_, which led men
into an error so lamentable. Swift, writing upon the subject, remarked
that he could see no harm in rogues and fools shooting each other. Addison
and Steele took higher ground; and the latter, in the _Guardian_, summed
up nearly all that could be said upon the subject in the following
impressive words:--"A Christian and a gentleman are made inconsistent
appellations of the same person. You are not to expect eternal life if you
do not forgive injuries, and your mortal life is rendered uncomfortable if
you are not ready to commit a murder in resentment of an affront; for good
sense, as well as religion, is so utterly banished the world, that men
glory in their very passions, and pursue trifles with the utmost
vengeance, so little do they know that to forgive is the most arduous
pitch human nature can arrive at. A coward has often fought, a coward has
often conquered; but a coward never forgave." Steele also published a
pamphlet, in which he gave a detailed account of the edict of Louis XIV.,
and the measures taken by that monarch to cure his subjects of their
murderous folly.
[66] See _Spectator_, Nos. 84, 97, and 99; and _Tatler_, Nos. 25,
26, 29, 31, 38, and 39; and _Guardian_, No. 20.
On the 8th of May, 1711, Sir Cholmely Deering, M.P. for the county of
Kent, was slain in a duel by Mr. Richard Thornhill, also a member of the
House of Commons. Three days afterwards, Sir Peter King brought the
subject under the notice of the legislature; and after dwelling at
considerable length on the alarming increase of the practice, obtained
leave to bring in a bill for the prevention and punishment of duelling. It
was read a first time that day, and ordered for a second reading in the
ensuing week.
About the same time, the attention of the Upper House of Parliament was
also drawn to the subject in the most painful manner. Two of its most
noted members would have fought had it not been that Queen Anne received
notice of their intention, and exacted a pledge that they would desist;
while a few months afterwards two other of its members lost their lives in
one of the most remarkable duels upon record. The first affair, which
happily terminated without a meeting, was between the Duke of Marlborough
and the Earl Pawlet; the latter and fatal encounter was between the Duke
of Hamilton and Lord Mohun.
The first arose out of a debate in the Lords upon the conduct of the Duke
of Ormond in refusing to hazard a general engagement with the enemy, in
which Earl Pawlet remarked that nobody could doubt the courage of the Duke
of Ormond. "He was not like a certain general, who led troops to the
slaughter, to cause great numbers of officers to be knocked on the head in
a battle, or against stone walls, in order to fill his pockets by
disposing of their commissions." Every one felt that the remark was aimed
at the Duke of Marlborough, but he remained silent, though evidently
suffering in mind. Soon after the House broke up, the Earl Pawlet received
a visit from Lord Mohun, who told him that the Duke of Marlborough was
anxious to come to an explanation with him relative to some expressions he
had made use of in that day's debate, and therefore prayed him to "go and
take a little air in the country." Earl Pawlet did not affect to
misunderstand the hint, but asked him in plain terms whether he brought a
challenge from the duke. Lord Mohun said his message needed no
explanation, and that he [Lord Mohun] would accompany the Duke of
Marlborough. He then took his leave, and Earl Pawlet returned home and
told his lady that he was going out to fight a duel with the Duke of
Marlborough. His lady, alarmed for her lord's safety, gave notice of his
intention to the Earl of Dartmouth, who immediately, in the queen's name,
sent to the Duke of Marlborough, and commanded him not to stir abroad. He
also caused Earl Pawlet's house to be guarded by two sentinels; and having
taken these precautions, informed the queen of the whole affair. Her
Majesty sent at once for the duke, expressed her abhorrence of the custom
of duelling, and required his word of honour that he would proceed no
further. The duke pledged his word accordingly, and the affair terminated.
The lamentable duel between the Duke of Hamilton and Lord Mohun took place
in November 1712, and sprang from the following circumstances. A lawsuit
had been pending for eleven years between these two noblemen, and they
looked upon each other in consequence with a certain degree of coldness.
They met together on the 13th of November in the chambers of Mr. Orlebar,
a master in Chancery, when, in the course of conversation, the Duke of
Hamilton reflected upon the conduct of one of the witnesses in the cause,
saying that he was a person who had neither truth nor justice in him. Lord
Mohun, somewhat nettled at this remark applied to a witness favourable to
his side, made answer hastily, that Mr. Whiteworth, the person alluded to,
had quite as much truth and justice in him as the Duke of Hamilton. The
duke made no reply, and no one present imagined that he took offence at
what was said; and when he went out of the room he made a low and
courteous salute to the Lord Mohun. In the evening, General Macartney
called twice upon the duke with a challenge from Lord Mohun, and failing
in seeing him, sought him a third time at a tavern, where he found him,
and delivered his message. The duke accepted the challenge, and the day
after the morrow, which was Sunday, the 15th of November, at seven in the
morning, was appointed for the meeting.
At that hour they assembled in Hyde Park, the duke being attended by his
relative Colonel Hamilton, and the Lord Mohun by General Macartney. They
jumped over a ditch into a place called the Nursery, and prepared for the
combat. The Duke of Hamilton, turning to General Macartney, said, "_Sir,
you are the cause of this, let the event be what it will._" Lord Mohun
did not wish that the seconds should engage, but the duke insisted that
"_Macartney should have a share in the dance._" All being ready, the two
principals took up their positions, and fought with swords so desperately,
that after a short time they both fell down mortally wounded. The Lord
Mohun expired upon the spot, and the Duke of Hamilton in the arms of his
servants as they were carrying him to his coach.
This unhappy termination caused the greatest excitement not only in the
metropolis, but all over the country. The Tories, grieved at the loss of
the Duke of Hamilton, charged the fatal combat on the Whig party, whose
leader, the Duke of Marlborough, had so recently set the example of
political duels. They called Lord Mohun the bully of the Whig faction (he
had already killed three men in duels, and been twice tried for murder),
and asserted openly that the quarrel was concocted between him and General
Macartney to rob the country of the services of the Duke of Hamilton by
murdering him. It was also asserted that the wound of which the duke died
was not inflicted by Lord Mohun, but by Macartney; and every means was
used to propagate this belief. Colonel Hamilton, against whom and
Macartney the coroner's jury had returned a verdict of wilful murder,
surrendered a few days afterwards, and was examined before a privy council
sitting at the house of Lord Dartmouth. He then deposed, that seeing Lord
Mohun fall, and the duke upon him, he ran to the duke's assistance; and
that he might with the more ease help him, he flung down both their
swords, and as he was raising the duke up, _he saw Macartney make a push
at him_. Upon this deposition, a royal proclamation was immediately
issued, offering a reward of 500l. for the apprehension of Macartney, to
which the Duchess of Hamilton afterwards added a reward of 300l.
Upon the further examination of Colonel Hamilton, it was found that
reliance could not be placed on all his statements, and that he
contradicted himself in several important particulars. He was arraigned at
the old Bailey for the murder of Lord Mohun, the whole political circles
of London being in a fever of excitement for the result. All the Tory
party prayed for his acquittal, and a Tory mob surrounded the doors and
all the avenues leading to the court of justice for many hours before the
trial began. The examination of witnesses lasted seven hours. The criminal
still persisted in accusing General Macartney of the murder of the Duke of
Hamilton, but in other respects, say the newspapers of the day,
prevaricated foully. He was found guilty of manslaughter. This favourable
verdict was received with universal applause, "not only from the court and
all the gentlemen present, but the common people shewed a mighty
satisfaction, which they testified by loud and repeated huzzas."[67]
[67] _Post-Boy_, December 13th, 1712.
As the popular delirium subsided, and men began to reason coolly upon the
subject, they disbelieved the assertions of Colonel Hamilton that
Macartney had stabbed the duke, although it was universally admitted that
he had been much too busy and presuming. Hamilton was shunned by all his
former companions, and his life rendered so irksome to him, that he sold
out of the Guards and retired to private life, in which he died
heart-broken four years afterwards.
General Macartney surrendered about the same time, and was tried for
murder in the Court of King's Bench. He was, however, found guilty of
manslaughter only.
At the opening of the session of Parliament of 1713, the queen made
pointed allusion in her speech to the frequency of duelling, and
recommended to the legislature to devise some speedy and effectual remedy
for it. A bill to that effect was brought forward, but thrown out on the
second reading, to the very great regret of all the sensible portion of
the community.
A famous duel was fought in 1765 between Lord Byron and Mr. Chaworth. The
dispute arose at a club-dinner, and was relative to which of the two had
the largest quantity of game on his estates. Infuriated by wine and
passion, they retired instantly into an adjoining room, and fought with
swords across a table, by the feeble glimmer of a tallow candle. Mr.
Chaworth, who was the more expert swordsman of the two, received a mortal
wound, and shortly afterwards expired. Lord Byron was brought to trial for
the murder before the House of Lords; and it appearing clearly that the
duel was not premeditated, but fought at once, and in the heat of passion,
he was found guilty of manslaughter only, and ordered to be discharged
upon payment of his fees. This was a very bad example for the country, and
duelling of course fell into no disrepute after such a verdict.
In France more severity was exercised. In the year 1769, the Parliament of
Grenoble took cognisance of the delinquency of the Sieur Duchelas, one of
its members, who challenged and killed in a duel a captain of the Flemish
legion. The servant of Duchelas officiated as second, and was arraigned
with his master for the murder of the captain. They were both found
guilty. Duchelas was broken alive on the wheel, and the servant condemned
to the galleys for life.
A barbarous and fiercely-contested duel was fought in November 1778,
between two foreign adventurers, at Bath, named Count Rice and the Vicomte
du Barri. Some dispute arose relative to a gambling transaction, in the
course of which Du Barri contradicted an assertion of the other, by saying
"That is not true!" Count Rice immediately asked him if he knew the very
disagreeable meaning of the words he had employed. Du Barri said he was
perfectly well aware of their meaning, and that Rice might interpret them
just as he pleased. A challenge was immediately given and accepted.
Seconds were sent for, who, arriving with but little delay, the whole
party, though it was not long after midnight, proceeded to a place called
Claverton Down, where they remained with a surgeon until daylight. They
then prepared for the encounter, each being armed with two pistols and a
sword. The ground having been marked out by the seconds, Du Barri fired
first, and wounded his opponent in the thigh. Count Rice then levelled his
pistol, and shot Du Barri mortally in the breast. So angry were the
combatants, that they refused to desist; both stepped back a few paces,
and then rushing forward, discharged their second pistols at each other.
Neither shot took effect, and both throwing away their pistols, prepared
to finish the sanguinary struggle by the sword. They took their places,
and were advancing towards each other, when the Vicomte du Barri suddenly
staggered, grew pale, and, falling on the ground, exclaimed, "_Je vous
demande ma vie_." His opponent had but just time to answer, that he
granted it, when the unfortunate Du Barri turned upon the grass, and
expired with a heavy groan. The survivor of this savage conflict was then
removed to his lodgings, where he lay for some weeks in a dangerous state.
The coroner's jury, in the mean while, sat upon the body of Du Barri, and
disgraced themselves by returning a verdict of manslaughter only. Count
Rice, upon his recovery, was indicted for the murder notwithstanding this
verdict. On his trial he entered into a long defence of his conduct,
pleading the fairness of the duel, and its unpremeditated nature; and, at
the same time, expressing his deep regret for the unfortunate death of Du
Barri, with whom for many years he had been bound in ties of the strictest
friendship. These considerations appear to have weighed with the jury, and
this fierce duellist was again found guilty of manslaughter only, and
escaped with a merely nominal punishment.
A duel, less remarkable from its circumstances, but more so from the rank
of the parties, took place in 1789. The combatants on this occasion were
the Duke of York and Colonel Lenox, the nephew and heir of the Duke of
Richmond. The cause of offence was given by the Duke of York, who had said
in presence of several officers of the Guards, that words had been used to
Colonel Lenox at Daubigny's to which no gentleman ought to have submitted.
Colonel Lenox went up to the duke on parade, and asked him publicly
whether he had made such an assertion. The Duke of York, without answering
his question, coldly ordered him to his post. When parade was over, he
took an opportunity of saying publicly in the orderly-room before Colonel
Lenox, that he desired no protection from his rank as a prince and his
station as commanding officer; adding that, when he was off duty he wore a
plain brown coat like a private gentleman, and was ready as such to give
satisfaction. Colonel Lenox desired nothing better than satisfaction; that
is to say, to run the chance of shooting the duke through the body, or
being himself shot. He accordingly challenged his Royal Highness, and they
met on Wimbledon Common. Colonel Lenox fired first, and the ball whizzed
past the head of his opponent, so near to it as to graze his projecting
curl. The duke refused to return the fire, and the seconds interfering,
the affair terminated.
Colonel Lenox was very shortly afterwards engaged in another duel arising
out of this. A Mr. Swift wrote a pamphlet in reference to the dispute
between him and the Duke of York, at some expressions in which he took so
much offence, as to imagine that nothing but a shot at the writer could
atone for them. They met on the Uxbridge Road, but no damage was done to
either party.
The Irish were for a long time renowned for their love of duelling. The
slightest offence which it is possible to imagine that one man could offer
to another was sufficient to provoke a challenge. Sir Jonah Barrington
relates, in his _Memoirs_, that, previous to the Union, during the time of
a disputed election in Dublin, it was no unusual thing for
three-and-twenty duels to be fought in a day. Even in times of less
excitement, they were so common as to be deemed unworthy of note by the
regular chroniclers of events, except in cases where one or both of the
combatants were killed.
In those days, in Ireland, it was not only the man of the military, but of
every profession, who had to work his way to eminence with the sword or
the pistol. Each political party had its regular corps of bullies, or
fire-eaters, as they were called, who qualified themselves for being the
pests of society by spending all their spare time in firing at targets.
They boasted that they could hit an opponent in any part of his body they
pleased, and made up their minds before the encounter began whether they
should kill him, disable, or disfigure him for life--lay him on a bed of
suffering for a twelvemonth, or merely graze a limb.
The evil had reached an alarming height, when, in the year 1808, an
opportunity was offered to King George III. of shewing in a striking
manner his detestation of the practice, and of setting an example to the
Irish that such murders were not to be committed with impunity. A dispute
arose, in the month of June 1807, between Major Campbell and Captain Boyd,
officers of the 21st regiment, stationed in Ireland, about the proper
manner of giving the word of command on parade. Hot words ensued on this
slight occasion, and the result was a challenge from Campbell to Boyd.
They retired into the mess-room shortly afterwards, and each stationed
himself at a corner, the distance obliquely being but seven paces. Here,
without friends or seconds being present, they fired at each other, and
Captain Boyd fell mortally wounded between the fourth and fifth ribs. A
surgeon, who came in shortly, found him sitting in a chair, vomiting and
suffering great agony. He was led into another room, Major Campbell
following, in great distress and perturbation of mind. Boyd survived but
eighteen hours, and just before his death, said, in reply to a question
from his opponent, that the duel was not fair, and added, "You hurried me,
Campbell--you're a bad man."--"Good God!" replied Campbell, "will you
mention before these gentlemen, was not every thing fair? Did you not say
that you were ready?" Boyd answered faintly, "Oh, no! you know I wanted
you to wait and have friends." On being again asked whether all was fair,
the dying man faintly murmured, "Yes:" but in a minute after, he said,
"You're a bad man!" Campbell was now in great agitation, and ringing his
hands convulsively, he exclaimed, "Oh, Boyd! you are the happiest man of
the two! Do you forgive me?" Boyd replied, "I forgive you--I feel for you,
as I know you do for me." He shortly afterwards expired, and Major
Campbell made his escape from Ireland, and lived for some months with his
family under an assumed name, in the neighbourhood of Chelsea. He was,
however, apprehended, and brought to trial at Armagh, in August 1808. He
said while in prison, that, if found guilty of murder, he should suffer as
an example to duellists in Ireland; but he endeavoured to buoy himself up
with the hope that the jury would only convict him of manslaughter. It was
proved in evidence upon the trial, that the duel was not fought
immediately after the offence was given, but that Major Campbell went home
and drank tea with his family before he sought Boyd for the fatal
encounter. The jury returned a verdict of wilful murder against him, but
recommended him to mercy on the ground that the duel had been a fair one.
He was condemned to die on the Monday following, but was afterwards
respited for a few days longer. In the mean time the greatest exertions
were made in his behalf. His unfortunate wife went upon her knees before
the Prince of Wales, to move him to use his influence with the king in
favour of her unhappy husband. Every thing a fond wife and a courageous
woman could do she tried, to gain the royal clemency; but George III. was
inflexible, in consequence of the representations of the Irish viceroy
that an example was necessary. The law was therefore allowed to take its
course, and the victim of a false spirit of honour died the death of a
felon.
The most inveterate duellists of the present day are the students in the
Universities of Germany. They fight on the most frivolous pretences, and
settle with swords and pistols the schoolboy disputes which in other
countries are arranged by the more harmless medium of the fisticuffs. It
was at one time the custom among these savage youths to prefer the
sword-combat, for the facility it gave them of cutting off the noses of
their opponents. To disfigure them in this manner was an object of
ambition, and the German duellists reckoned the number of these disgusting
trophies which they had borne away, with as much satisfaction as a
successful general the provinces he had reduced or the cities he had
taken.
But it would be wearisome to enter into the minute detail of all the duels
of modern times. If an examination were made into the general causes which
produced them, it would be found that in every case they had been either
of the most trivial or the most unworthy nature. Parliamentary duels were
at one time very common, and amongst the names of those who have soiled a
great reputation by conforming to the practice, may be mentioned those of
Warren Hastings, Sir Philip Francis, Wilkes, Pitt, Fox, Grattan, Curran,
Tierney, and Canning. So difficult is it even for the superior mind to
free itself from the trammels with which foolish opinion has enswathed
it--not one of these celebrated persons who did not in his secret soul
condemn the folly to which he lent himself. The bonds of reason, though
iron-strong, are easily burst through; but those of folly, though lithe
and frail as the rushes by a stream, defy the stoutest heart to snap them
asunder. Colonel Thomas, an officer in the Guards, who was killed in a
duel, added the following clause to his will the night before he
died:--"In the first place, I commit my soul to Almighty God, in hope of
his mercy and pardon for the irreligious step I now (in compliance with
the unwarrantable customs of this wicked world) put myself under the
necessity of taking." How many have been in the same state of mind as this
wise, foolish man! He knew his error, and abhorred it, but could not
resist it for fear of the opinion of the prejudiced and unthinking. No
other could have blamed him for refusing to fight a duel.
The list of duels that have sprung from the most degrading causes might be
stretched out to an almost indefinite extent. Sterne's father fought a
duel about a goose; and the great Raleigh about a tavern-bill.[68] Scores
of duels (many of them fatal) have been fought from disputes at cards, or
a place at a theatre; while hundreds of challenges, given and accepted
over-night, in a fit of drunkenness, have been fought out the next morning
to the death of one or both of the antagonists.
[68] Raleigh at one period of his life appeared to be an
inveterate duellist, and it was said of him that he had been
engaged in more encounters of the kind than any man of note
among his contemporaries. More than one fellow-creature he
had deprived of life; but he lived long enough to be
convinced of the sinfulness of his conduct, and made a solemn
vow never to fight another duel. The following anecdote of
his forbearance is well known, but it will bear repetition: