Duel of the Month Club: John F. Sherburne v. Daniel Key

At age 19, Daniel Key, son of Francis Scott Key, was a midshipman in the Navy. While on tour, Daniel had a dispute with fellow midshipman John F. Sherburne, the son of the former Register of the Navy. In a letter written to the Memphis Avalanche, witness to the duel Thomas Mattingly recalled that Sherburne was serving on the ship, while Key –a troublesome youngster—was merely a passenger on the ship after having been arrested on his frigate Brandywine for insubordination. On board Key developed a strong disliking for Sherburne and would go to great lengths to anger him. Reaching Norfolk, Virginia Key was held on bond in order to keep the peace. After his release, Key and his father went to Baltimore to argue his case in front of the Naval Board. With his father as district attorney of the Circuit Court in DC, Key got off without punishment, and the two returned to Washington.

Also returning to Washington was John Sherburne. When the two midshipmen learned of each other’s presence, tensions escalated. Around June 15th or 16th Sherburne demanded a duel, to which Key replied, “Sherburne is a damned scoundrel, and I will not meet him.” But after a few minutes to compose himself, Key agreed to a duel, provided it be done quickly.

The stage was set; the duel would take place that evening at 6:00 pm in Bladensburg, Maryland (recall that dueling was illegal within the District). The dueling grounds are pictured above. The two agreed on pistols as their weapons, and stood ten short paces apart. They fired. After the smoke cleared, it became apparent that both shooters had missed their mark. Key exclaimed, “Where did my ball go to; God damn it, load up quick and let us have another shot!” Sherburne complied, the two reloaded, and at twilight the command was given to fire again. This time Key was struck on the lower right side of his chest, he lived twenty minutes longer before dying where he fell. Sherburne escaped unharmed.

Key’s body was returned to his father’s C Street house between 13th and 14th Streets. The scene there was one of agony and profound grief. Francis Scott had lost his eldest son. The Knickerbocker (a New York Magazine at the time) remarked on the duel saying, “We know how to appreciate such a scene, for we know its counterpart—a mother bending in speechless agony of heart over the dead body of an only son, murdered in cool blood…The life, however, of a successful duelist, is a curse to himself. His punishment goes with him, in every step he takes in his journey to the grave.” Let that be a lesson to duelists.

Sources: The Knickerbocker (or New-York Monthly Magazine), vol. VIII , New York: Clark and Edson, 1836.

Thomas Mattingly, "Duel between midshipmen Key and Sherburne," from the Memphis Avalanche, printed in the New York Times, April 23, 1859.

Duel of the Month Club: Alternate Weapons Edition

Thus far, all of the duels we've mentioned have been pistol duels. If I remember my chivalrous movie scenes correctly, it's generally the challenged party who is allowed to choose their weapon. When Senator Charles Sumner (R-MA) delivered a two-day-long speech beginning on May 19, 1856, he inadvertently became the challenger in an impromptu duel.

Sumner's speech, an hours-long tirade focused on Kansas, which had become a battleground after Congress had decided to make slavery in the state subject to a popular vote. Sumner accused the South of conspiring to make Kansas a slave state, and peppered his speech with personal accusations aimed at several of his fellow senators. Among them was Andrew Butler of South Carolina, whom Sumner described as having taken "the harlot, Slavery," as his "mistress."
Two days later, on May 22, Butler's nephew, Congressman Preston Brooks (D-SC), seeking to "avenge the insult to my State," walked into the mostly deserted Senate chamber. Finding Sumner working at his desk, Brooks began beating the Senator over the head with his cane, with enough force to snap the cane into pieces.

Admittedly, this is a somewhat one-sided duel. On the other hand, the public recognized that Sumner had struck a sound enough blow verbally, that his opponent was obliged to respond with physical assault. The fight had far-reaching consequences, polarizing those in the North and the South. For his part, Sumner's speech was printed, with a million copies distributed. Though suffering concussions and severe headaches, Sumner eventually recovered and was able to return to the Senate. As for Brooks, he was sent several new canes, with inscriptions reading "Hit him again," and was even reelected to Congress.

Source: David Brian Davis and Steven Mintz, The Boisterous Sea of Liberty: A Documentary History of America from Discovery through The Civil War (New York: Oxford University Press, 1998).

Duel of the Month Club: Clay v. Randolph

Senator Henry "Blackleg" Clay (at left) v. Representative John "Crackshot"Randolph of Roanoke (at right).

In 1826 one of the worst names you could call someone was a “Blackleg,” a cheater. That is just what John Randolph called Senator Clay when he implicated him a “corrupt bargain” with John Q. Adams. Ever the hotheaded southerner, Senator Clay called Randolph out, much to the horror of Washington. After all, Randolph was known for his aim, as well as his alcohol and opium induced erratic nature. No one thought Clay stood a chance. Senator Thomas Hart Benton attempted to mediate. But it was no “sticks and stones” for these gentlemen; they chose pistols and set a date for April 8, 1826.

Randolph insisted that the duel be fought in his native Virginia, the only place worthy of his blood. The two men, along with their seconds and Benton as their witness, met a half mile north of the Chain Bridge at Pimmit Run in Arlington. Despite Randolph’s earlier promise to Benton that he had no intention of shooting at the distinguished Clay, you just never knew with Randolph. He could go either way.

So there they were at Pimmit Run ready to duel, when the second loading Randolph’s pistol accidently fired it due to a hair trigger. Randolph was furious; this was a breach of the code duello and an embarrassment to his honor. Clay was angry too, but since it was clearly an accident, he was willing to overlook it. The two counted their paces, turned and fired. Both bullets had missed. Randolph had clearly fired at Clay! The bullet just barely missed!

In keeping with dueling protocol, Benton asked both men if they were satisfied. Both Clay and Randolph declared that they were not satisfied and had their seconds reload. This time Clay shot first. After the echo of the first shot, Benton raised his pistol above him, fired and shouted, “I do not fire at you, Mr. Clay.” The two met halfway and shook hands. A visibly relieved Senator Clay asked if Randolph had been wounded. John Randolph replied, “You owe me a coat, Mr. Clay.” Henry Clay replied, “I am glad the debt is no greater.”

Footnote: Thomas Hart Benton once shot his friend Andrew Jackson in the shoulder, servering an artery, after a dispute in a bar. Jackson survived. The two reconciled and remained friends.

Source: Thomas Hart Benton in, G.E. Rule, “The Brown-Reynolds Duel”, edited by Walter B. Stevens, 1911.

Duel of the Month Club: Decatur v. Barron

Steven Decatur (Left) v. James Barron (Right)

We here at Ten Miles Square love a good duel. We are of the belief that when it comes to honor, all challenges must be answered! Though we are likely to run away when personally affronted, if others want to "have it out," that's okay with us-- we'll watch from afar...or read about it a few centuries later.

Fortunately for us, DC was a prime dueling locale. To kick us off, a battle between Commodore James Barron and Commodore Stephen "Conqueror of the Barbary Pirates" Decatur.

It all started during the Napoleanic Wars, when the British were bullying the nascent American navy, and impressing American sailors into the British navy. In 1807, Barron's ship, the Chesapeake, was approached by the somewhat larger British Leopard. Judging his odds unfavorable in a true contest, he elected to fire his guns once, and promptly lower his colors in surrender. Though Stephen Decatur was a former subordinate and close friend of Barron to whom he admitted that he owed his career, Decatur sat on the the jury that would issue a court-marshall and five year leave to Commodore Barron for the "Chesapeake Affair." An outraged Barron left the United States and returned in 1818, well after the War of 1812 concluded. Decatur remarked on Barron's inaction in the war, stating that he had failed to serve his country and do his patriotic duty. After a period of correspondence, the two set a date on March 22, 1820 to restore their honor in a duel.

Admittedly, this duel did not take place in the District. It occurred just over the DC line in Bladensberg, Maryland. But, Stephen Decatur lived in Washington, and at any rate it was illegal to duel in the District (but not in MD). After a last minute attempt to reconcile, the two gentlemen counted off their eight paces, turned and fired. Both were wounded; for Decatur the wound was mortal. He was rushed back to his home in Lafayette Park where he slowly bled to death in the evening of the 22nd. So grieved was the nation at the War Hero's death that the U.S. Senate ajourned so that members could attend his funeral procession, and towns across the United States were named in his honor.