Part 2

Roger obeyed; and with the same composure cried out, “Very well, fire away, Jack.”

Egan presented, and seemed by his motions determined to finish Roger:—at length he cried out, “Pho! pho! I won’t humour you, by G—d! I wouldn’t be _bothered_ shooting you, Roger!—so now you may go to the devil your own road; or _shake hands_, whichever you like best.”

The finale may be anticipated. This circumstance is truly Irish; it took place on the site of Donnybrook fair, and some hundreds of _amateurs_ were present.

The Chancellor of the Exchequer, the Right Honourable Isaac Corry, fought the Right Honourable Henry Grattan, a privy counsellor, and the chancellor was hit. He also exchanged shots or thrusts with _two_ other gentlemen.

A baron of the exchequer, Baron Medge, fought his brother-in-law and _two_ others—a hit.

The Chief Justice, C. P., Lord Norbury, fought Fire-eater Fitzgerald, and _two_ other gentlemen, muzzle to muzzle, and frightened Napper Tandy and several besides: one hit only.—Napper was near being hanged for _running away_!

The Judge of the Prerogative Court, Doctor Duigenan, fought _one_ barrister and frightened _another_ on the ground.—The latter case a very curious one.

The First Counsel to the Revenue, Henry Deane Grady, Esq., K. C., fought Counsellor O’Maher, Counsellor Campbell, and others:—very stout work.

The Right Honourable the Master of the Rolls fought Lord Buckinghamshire, (Chief Secretary, &c.) because he would not dismiss an official person.

The Provost of the University of Dublin, the Right Honourable Hely Hutchinson, fought Mr. Doyle, master in Chancery: they went to the plains of Minden to fight!

N.B. The spirit of the Hutchinson family was proverbial, and their good nature was no less so.

The Chief Justice C. P. Patterson fought _three_ country gentlemen, one of them with swords, another with guns, and wounded _all_ of them.

The Right Honourable George Ogle, the Orange chieftain, a privy counsellor, fought Barny Coyle, a whiskey distiller, because he was a _papist_.—They fired eight shots without stop or stay, and no hit occurred: but Mr. Ogle’s second broke his own arm by tumbling into a potatoe-trench.

Sir Harding Gifford, late Chief Justice of Ceylon, fought the rebel General Bagenal Harvey at a place called the Scalp, near Dublin. The Chief Justice received a severe, but very _odd_ wound.—He eventually, however, suffered no important injury.

Counsellor Dan O’Connell fought the Orange chieftain, who had been _halloo’d_ at him by the corporation. The champion of Protestant ascendancy never rose to fight again.

The Collector of the Customs of Dublin, the Honourable Francis Hutchinson, fought the Right Honourable Lord Mountnorris:—a hit. _Cum multis aliis quæ nunc enumerare longum est._

The reader of this dignified list (which, as I have said, is only a _very_ short abridgment[3]) will surely see no great indecorum in an Admiralty Judge having now and then, when required so to do, exchanged _broadsides_, more especially as they did not militate against the law of nations, and no _ghost_ was the consequence.

Footnote 3:

Two hundred and twenty-seven memorable duels have actually been fought during my grand climacteric.

However, it must be owned that there were occasionally _peaceable_ and _forgiving_ instances among the barristers.—A brave, thrice-proven, but certainly capricious individual, Mr. Curran, was whipped by a very _savage_ nobleman, Lord Clanmorris; and another eminent barrister was _said_ to have had his eye saluted by a messenger from a gentleman’s lips in the body of the House of Commons.—Yet both those little _incivilities_ were arranged very amicably, and without the aid of any deadly weapon whatsoever, I suppose for _variety’s_ sake. But the people of Dublin used to observe, that a _judgment_ came upon Counsellor O’Callaghan, for having kept his friend, Mr. Curran, _quiet_ in the horse-whipping affair, inasmuch as his own brains were literally scattered about the ground by a Galway attorney very soon after he had turned pacificator.

To speak after the manner of a _Bulletin_:—“In my time, the number of killed and wounded among the bar was very considerable.—The other learned professions suffered much less.”

It is nearly incredible what a singular passion the Irish gentlemen (though in general excellent-tempered fellows) formerly had for fighting each other and immediately becoming friends again. A duel was indeed considered a necessary piece of a young man’s _education_, but by no means a ground for any future animosity with his opponent:—on the contrary, proving the bravery of both, it only cemented their friendship.

One of the most humane men existing, an intimate friend of mine, and a prominent and benevolent public character, but who (as the expression then was) had frequently played both “hilt to hilt” and “muzzle to muzzle,” in desperate rencontres, was heard endeavouring to keep a little son of his quiet who was crying for something:—“Come, now, do be a good boy! Come, now,” said my friend, “don’t cry, and I’ll give you a case of nice little _pistols_ to-morrow. Come, now, don’t cry, and we’ll shoot them all in the morning.”—“Oh, yes! yes! papa! we’ll _shoot them all_ in the morning!” responded the child, drying his little eyes and delighted at the notion.

I have heard Sir Charles Ormsby, who affected to be a wit, though at best but a humourist and _gourmand_, liken the story of my friend and his son to a butcher at Nenagh, who in a similar manner wanted to keep _his_ son from crying, and effectually stopped his tears by saying,—“Come, now, be a good boy! don’t cry, and you shall _kill a lamb_ to-morrow! now, won’t you be good?”—“Oh yes, yes,” said the child, sobbing; “Father, is the _lamb ready_?”

Within my recollection, this national relish for fighting was nearly universal,—originating (I think) in the spirit and habits of former times. When men had a glowing ambition to excel in all manner of feats and exercises, as their forefathers had done, they naturally conceived that single combat in an _honest_ way (that is, not knowing _which_ would be perforated) was the most chivalrous and gentlemanly of all possible accomplishments; and this idea gave rise to an assiduous cultivation of personal tactics, and dictated _laws_ for carrying them into execution with regularity, honour, and dispatch, among the nobility and gentry of that punctilious nation.

About the year 1777, _Fire-eating_ was in great repute in Ireland. No young fellow could _finish his education_ till he had exchanged shots with some of his friends or acquaintances. The first questions asked as to a young man’s respectability and qualifications (particularly when he proposed for a lady-wife) were, “What family is he of?”—“Did he ever _blaze_?”—His _fortune_ was then the last inquiry; because the reply was seldom satisfactory.

Tipperary and Galway were the ablest schools of the duelling science. Galway was most scientific at the sword: Tipperary most practical and prized at the pistol: Mayo not amiss at either: Roscommon and Sligo had many professors and a high reputation in the leaden branch of the pastime.

When I was at the university, Jemmy Keogh, _Buck English_,[4] Cosey Harrison, Crowe Ryan, Reddy Long, Amby Bodkin, Squire Fulton, Squire Blake, Amby Fitzgerald, Terry Magrath, and some others, were supposed to understand the _points of honour_ better than any men in Ireland, and were constantly referred to.—Terry Magrath especially was counted a very good opinion.

Footnote 4:

The celebrated Buck English was expelled for killing by foul play, and had like to be hanged. The “Fire-eaters” _outlawed_ him.—Foul play was never known to occur in that society—save in this instance. English was saved, on his trial, by _one_ juror holding out against his _eleven_ brethren:—however, as they could not agree, Baron Hamilton ordered them all to be packed in turf kishes, conveyed on cars to the boundary of the county, twenty-seven miles off, and there discharged on foot. At the ensuing assizes all the witnesses against English were duly disposed of—none appeared—and he was acquitted of course.

In the North, the Fallons and the Fentons were the first hands at it; and most counties could then boast their regular _point-of-honour_ men. The late chief justice of the common pleas was supposed to understand _the thing_ as well as any gentleman in Ireland, and was frequently referred to by the high circles.

In truth, these oracles were in general gentlemen of good connexions[5] and most respectable families, otherwise nobody would either fight or consult them.

Footnote 5:

There was an association in the year 1782, (a volunteer corps) which was called the “Independent Light Horse.” They were not confined to one district, and none could be admitted but the younger brothers of the most respectable families. They were all both “hilt and muzzle adepts;”—and, that no member might set himself up as greater than another, every individual of the corps was obliged, on entering, to give his honour “that he could cover his fortune with the crown of his hat, and had exchanged a shot or thrust before he was ballotted for.”

Roscommon and Sligo then furnished some of the finest young fellows (fire-eaters) I ever saw: their spirit and decorum were equally admirable, and their honour and liberality conspicuous on all occasions.

Every family had then a case of hereditary pistols, which descended as an heir-loom, together with a long silver-hilted sword, for the use of their posterity. Our family pistols, denominated _pelters_, were brass (I believe my second brother has them still): the barrels were very long and _point-blankers_. They were included in the armoury of our ancient castle of Ballynakill in the reign of Elizabeth, (the stocks, locks, and hair-triggers were, however, modern,) and had descended from father to son from that period: one of them was named “_sweet lips_,” the other “_the darling_.” The family rapier was called “_skiver the pullet_” by my grand-uncle, Captain Wheeler Barrington, who had fought with it repeatedly and run through different parts of their persons several Scots officers, who had challenged him all at once for some national reflection. It was a very long, narrow-bladed, straight cut-and-thrust, as sharp as a razor, with a silver hilt, and a guard of buff leather inside it. I kept this rapier as a curiosity for some time; but it was stolen during my absence at Temple.

I knew Jemmy Keogh extremely well, when he was pretty old. He was considered in the main a _peace-maker_, for he did not like any body to fight but himself; and it was universally admitted that he never killed any man who did not well deserve it. He was a plausible, although black-looking fellow, with remarkably thick, long, curled eyebrows closing with a tuft over his nose. He spoke deliberately, reasoned well, and never showed passion. When determined to fight, his brows knit, his eyes fixed, and (as an antagonist) he cut a very unprepossessing figure. I never heard that he was wounded. When he tried to _restrain_ his anger, he set his teeth, kept his tongue a close prisoner, and appeared like one with a locked jaw. No man was more universally known in Ireland. He unfortunately shot a _cripple_ in the Phœnix Park, which, though fair enough, did him great mischief. He was land-agent to Bourke of Glinsk, to whom he always officiated as second.

At length, so many quarrels arose without sufficiently _dignified_ provocation, and so many things were considered as quarrels _of course_, which were not quarrels at all,—that the principal fire-eaters of the South clearly saw disrepute was likely to be thrown both on the science and its professors, and thought it full time to interfere and arrange matters upon a proper, steady, rational, and moderate footing; and to regulate the time, place, and other circumstances of duelling, so as to govern all Ireland on one principle—thus establishing a uniform, national code of the _lex pugnandi_; proving, as Hugo Grotius did, that it was for the benefit of all belligerents to adopt the same regulations.

In furtherance of this object, a _branch society_ had been formed in Dublin termed the “Knights of Tara,” which met once a month at the theatre, Capel-street, gave premiums for fencing, and proceeded in the most laudably systematic manner. The amount of admission-money was laid out on silver cups, and given to the best fencers, as prizes, at quarterly exhibitions of pupils and amateurs.

Fencing with the small-sword is certainly a most beautiful and noble exercise: its practice confers a fine, bold, manly carriage, a dignified mien, a firm step, and graceful motion. But, alas! its professors are now supplanted by contemptible groups of smirking quadrillers with unweaponed belts, stuffed breasts, and strangled loins!—a set of squeaking dandies, whose sex may be readily mistaken, or, I should rather say, is of _no_ consequence.

The theatre of the Knights of Tara, on these occasions, was always overflowing:—the combatants were dressed in close cambric jackets, garnished with ribbons, each wearing the favourite colour of his fair one: bunches of ribbons also dangled at their knees, and roses adorned their morocco slippers, which had buff soles, to prevent noise in their lunges. No masks or visors were used as in these more timorous times; on the contrary, every feature was uncovered, and its inflections all visible. The ladies appeared in full morning dresses, each handing his foil to her champion for the day, and their presence animating the singular exhibition. The prizes were handed to the conquerors by the fair ones from the stage-boxes, accompanied each with a wreath of laurel, and a smile then more valued than a hundred victories! The tips of the foils were blackened, and therefore instantly betrayed the hits on the cambric jacket, and proclaimed without doubt the successful combatant. All was decorum, gallantry, spirit, and good temper.

The Knights of Tara also had a select committee to decide on all actual questions of honour referred to them:—to reconcile differences, if possible; if not, to adjust the terms and continuance of single combat. Doubtful points were solved generally on the peaceable side, provided women were not insulted or defamed; but when that was the case, the knights were obdurate, and blood must be seen. They were constituted by ballot, something in the manner of the Jockey Club; but without the possibility of being dishonourable, or the opportunity of cheating each other.

This most agreeable and useful association did not last above two or three years. I cannot tell why it broke up: I rather think, however, the original fire-eaters thought it frivolous, or did not like their own ascendancy to be rivalled. It was said that they threatened direct hostilities against the knights; and I am the more disposed to believe this, because, soon after, a comprehensive code of the laws and points of honour was issued from the Southern fire-eaters, with directions that it should be strictly observed by all gentlemen throughout the kingdom, and kept in their pistol-cases, that ignorance might never be pleaded. This code was not circulated in print, but very numerous written copies were sent to the different county clubs, &c. My father got one for his sons; and I transcribed most of it on some blank leaves. These rules brought the whole business of duelling into a focus, and have been much acted upon down to the present day. They called them in Galway “the _thirty-six_ commandments.”

As far as my copy went, they appear to have run as follows:—

The practice of duelling and points of honour settled at Clonmell summer assizes, 1775, by the gentlemen delegates of Tipperary, Galway, Mayo, Sligo, and Roscommon, and prescribed for general adoption throughout Ireland.

RULE 1.

The first offence requires the first apology, though the retort may have been more offensive than the insult: example;—A tells B he is impertinent, &c. B retorts, that he lies: yet A must make the first apology, because he gave the first offence, and then (after one fire) B may explain away the retort by subsequent apology.

RULE 2.

But if the parties would rather fight on, then, after two shots each, (but in no case before,) B may explain first, and A apologise afterwards.

N.B. The above rules apply to all cases of offences in retort not of a stronger class than the example.

RULE 3.

If a doubt exist who gave the first offence, the decision rests with the seconds: if they _won’t_ decide or _can’t_ agree, the matter must proceed to two shots, or to a hit, if the challenger require it.

RULE 4.

When the _lie direct_ is the _first_ offence, the aggressor must either beg pardon in express terms; exchange two shots previous to apology; or three shots followed up by explanation; or fire on till a severe hit be received by one party or the other.

RULE 5.

As a blow is strictly prohibited under any circumstances amongst gentlemen, no verbal apology can be received for such an insult: the alternatives therefore are—first, the offender handing a cane to the injured party, to be used on his own person, at the same time begging pardon;—second, firing on until one or both are disabled; or thirdly, exchanging three shots, and then asking pardon, _without_ the proffer of the _cane_.

If swords are used, the parties engage till one is well blooded, disabled, or disarmed; or until, after receiving a wound, and blood being drawn, the aggressor begs pardon.

N.B. A _disarm_ is considered the same as a _disable_: the disarmer may (strictly) break his adversary’s sword; but if it be the challenger who is disarmed, it is considered as ungenerous to do so.

In case the challenged be disarmed, and refuses to ask pardon or atone, he must not be _killed_, as formerly; but the challenger may lay his own sword on the aggressor’s shoulder, then break the aggressor’s sword, and say, “I spare your life!” The challenged can never revive that quarrel—the challenger may.

RULE 6.

If A gives B the lie, and B retorts by a blow (being the two greatest offences), no reconciliation _can_ take place till after two discharges each, or a severe hit;—_after_ which, B may beg A’s pardon humbly for the blow, and then A may explain simply for the lie;—because a blow is _never_ allowable, and the offence of the lie therefore merges in it. (See preceding rule.)

N.B. Challenges for undivulged causes may be reconciled on the ground, after one shot. An explanation or the slightest hit should be sufficient in such cases, because no personal offence transpired.

RULE 7.

But no apology can be received, in any case, after the parties have actually taken their ground, without exchange of fires.

RULE 8.

In the above case, no challenger is obliged to divulge his cause of challenge (if private), unless required by the challenged so to do _before_ their meeting.

RULE 9.

All imputations of cheating at play, races, &c. to be considered equivalent to a blow; but may be reconciled after one shot, on admitting their falsehood, and begging pardon publicly.

RULE 10.

Any insult to a lady under a gentleman’s care or protection, to be considered as, by one degree, a greater offence than if given to the gentleman personally, and to be regulated accordingly.

RULE 11.

Offences originating or accruing from the support of ladies’ reputation, to be considered as less unjustifiable than any others of the same class, and as admitting of slighter apologies by the aggressor:—this to be determined by the circumstances of the case, but _always_ favourably to the lady.

RULE 12.

In simple unpremeditated _rencontres_ with the small sword, or _couteau-de-chasse_ the rule is—first draw, first sheath; unless blood be drawn: then both sheath, and proceed to investigation.

RULE 13.

No dumb-shooting or firing in the air admissible _in any case_. The challenger ought not to have challenged without receiving offence; and the challenged ought, if he gave offence, to have made an apology before he came on the ground: therefore, _children’s play_ must be dishonourable on one side or the other, and is accordingly prohibited.

RULE 14.

Seconds to be of equal rank in society with the principals they attend, inasmuch as a second may either choose or chance to become a principal, and equality is indispensable.

RULE 15.

Challenges are never to be delivered at night, unless the party to be challenged intend leaving the place of offence before morning; for it is desirable to avoid all hot-headed proceedings.

RULE 16.

The challenged has the right to choose his own weapon, unless the challenger gives his honour he is no swordsman; after which, however, he cannot decline any _second_ species of weapon proposed by the challenged.

RULE 17.

The challenged chooses his ground: the challenger chooses his distance: the seconds fix the time and terms of firing.

RULE 18.

The seconds load in presence of each other, unless they give their mutual honours they have charged smooth and single, which should be held sufficient.

RULE 19.

Firing may be regulated—first, by signal; secondly, by word of command; or, thirdly, at pleasure—as may be agreeable to the parties. In the latter case, the parties may fire at their reasonable leisure, but _second presents_ and _rests_ are strictly prohibited.

RULE 20.

In all cases, a miss-fire is equivalent to a shot, and a _snap_ or a _non-cock_ is to be considered as a miss-fire.

RULE 21.

Seconds are bound to attempt a reconciliation _before_ the meeting takes place, or _after_ sufficient firing or hits, as specified.

RULE 22.

Any wound sufficient to agitate the nerves and necessarily make the hand shake, must end the business for _that day_.

RULE 23.

If the cause of meeting be of such a nature that no apology or explanation can or will be received, the challenged takes his ground, and calls on the challenger to proceed as he chooses: in such cases, firing at pleasure is the usual practice, but may be varied by agreement.

RULE 24.

In slight cases, the second hands his principal but one pistol; but, in gross cases, two, holding another case ready-charged in reserve.

RULE 25.

Where seconds disagree, and resolve to exchange shots themselves, it must be at the same time and at right angles with their principals, thus:—

S | | P-----------P | | S

If with swords, side by side, with five paces interval.

N.B. All matters and doubts not herein mentioned will be explained and cleared up by application to the committee, who meet alternately at Clonmell and Galway, at the quarter-sessions, for that purpose.[6]

Crow Ryan, President, James Keogh,} Amby Bodkin,} Secretaries.

Footnote 6:

The residue of the rules I have found among other papers since the first edition of this book was printed—but they are much defaced. There were eleven or twelve of them only, on _points of honour_. The rules of combat are all given; and they are full of a pugnacious _sophistry_, which would scarcely entertain the reader.

Additional Galway Articles.

RULE 1.

No party can be allowed to bend his knee, or cover his side with his left hand; but may present at any level from the foot to the eye.

RULE 2.