The art of the duel: the original ADR

Andrew Jackson always maintained that when he was 15 years old, his mother's dying words were "Never bring suit in law for assault and battery or defamation. The law affords no remedy for such outrages that can satisfy the feelings of a true man." That's a peculiar way for a mom to bid adieu. But Betty was from the same gene pool as Andy, and Andy was more than just a bit meshugener. In the course of his life he engaged in 13 duels, early America's favorite form of ADR. The "Code Duello" as the rules were called were imported from Europe and adhered to strictly. Long before dueling banjos, there were dueling people, including dueling politicians.

When he was a green lawyer arguing his first case in the town of Salisbury, North Carolina, Jackson was called out by former State Attorney General Waightsill Avery, who had taken Jackson to school in the courtroom. Avery's own son described his dad's oratory that day as "a little more sarcastic than called for." Jackson very accurately accused Avery of accepting an illegal fee. Avery was unaware of a rule change, but nonetheless did not see fit to let the smear to his honor go unaddressed. They met on the dueling grounds, but by prearrangement fired their pistols in the air and then fried up a pork belly Andy had brought as a peace offering. Jackson had concluded that killing a popular, respected, old man was a bad way to start a career.

Almost all duels settled peaceably, with the challenged party issuing an apology usually couched in terms of having let the whiskey do the talking. Over time duels were outlawed, so they normally took place across the state line, where local authorities would look the other way when the participants were out-of-staters. Islands and sandbars on rivers that straddled a state line were popular sites, because of jurisdictional ambiguities. The challenged party who got to pick the weapons, so if you were "called out" by a good marksman, you chose something else. Pistols also didn't work the way they do nowadays. Sens. John Randolph of Virginia and Henry Clay of Tennessee squared off when Randolph accused Clay of cheating at cards. They called it quits after missing each other twice.

America's most famous duel took place across the river from New York in Weehawken, New Jersey, between Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr. Burr and Hamilton had hated each other dating back to when they were young lawyers practicing in Albany. Politics later pushed them over the edge. Hamilton was a reluctant duelist, given that his son Philip had already been killed that way. A coroner's jury indicted Burr, as well as his second, William Van Ness, for murder. The charges were eventually dropped. Van Ness was represented by young lawyer, Martin Van Buren, who had known Burr since he was a little boy. Burr was a frequent customer at the Van Buren family tavern.

Van Buren, the only president to grow up speaking a foreign language, called upon his command of English and Dutch to unravel land title claims that dated back to the patroonships granted to Dutch settlers by the Dutch West India Company. Van Buren frequently proved that the landed gentry charged rent on property they didn't really own. A retainer of the Van Rensselaers issued a challenge to him once, but nothing came of it.

By 1805 Burr had drawn the conclusion that his bright political future was now behind him, so he cooked up a strange scheme to establish his own empire stretching from Tennessee into Texas and Mexico. It didn't work out, but one of the people he hoodwinked into lending minor assistance was Andrew Jackson, who welcomed his fellow duelist warmly at his plantation; The Hermitage. One year later, Jackson shot and killed Charles Dickinson who had insulted Jackson's wife after a disagreement arose involving a horserace. Though Dickinson was a better shot, Jackson issued the challenge anyway, and Dickinson hit him right in the chest. But the bullet missed Andy's heart and lung. Andy took a deep breath, squared up, and shot Dickinson dead. Jackson carried so much lead in his body it was once said that he "rattled like a bag of marbles."

In 1842 Illinois State Comptroller James Shields was steamed by accusatory letters published about him and challenged State Representative Abraham Lincoln, whose girlfriend Mary Todd had actually penned more of the vitriol than Abe did. Abe accepted the challenge in part to impress his girl, but dissuaded Shields by choosing broadswords. When he arrived for the fight Shields observed the long-armed 6' 4" Abe hacking tree limbs Shields knew he could never dream of reaching, and got the message that he didn't stand a chance. He backed down.

The last big-time duel in California ended the life of Sen. David Broderick, just outside Lake Merced in San Francisco, in a spot now nestled amid country clubs off Skyline Boulevard. Broderick and his ex-friend David Terry had had a falling out over the issue of slavery in California and faced off in 1859. As he lay dying, Broderick said "They killed me because I was opposed to the extension of slavery and the corruption of justice." Terry begged to differ and only agreed to surrender if he could be taken into custody in Alameda County. He stood trial in Marin and was acquitted. The San Francisco sheriff arrested him anyway, but the judge saw fit to let him go rather than face double jeopardy.

Terry's motive might have been more personal than ideological. Broderick had just opposed Terry's bid for re-election and cost him his job. David Terry was the chief justice of the California Supreme Court.