THE POINT OF HONOUR.
A STORY OF THE PAST.
Shortly after Waterloo had been fought, one of our English regiments (which had taken a distinguished part in that great victory) stationed in a Mediterranean garrison, gained an unenviable notoriety there by a sudden mania for duelling that broke out amongst its officers, and which threatened to become so chronic in its character as seriously to interfere with the discipline of the corps. Quarrels were literally ‘made to order’ at mess-time for the most trifling affairs, and scarcely a day passed without a hostile meeting taking place, which the colonel—a weak-minded man—expressed himself powerless to prevent. Indeed he had already been sent to ‘Coventry’ by his subordinates, which, as our readers doubtless know, is a kind of social excommunication that, when acted upon in an English regiment, generally ends in the retirement from the corps of the individual on whom it falls. It was so in this instance, for the colonel saw that the vendetta-like conduct of his officers towards him was gradually divesting him of all authority in the eyes of his men; and as he had none but his social inferiors to whom he could turn for counsel and advice, he was compelled to relinquish his command and return to England. On arrival in this country he lost no time in proceeding to the Horse Guards, where he sought and gained an interview with the Duke of Wellington, to whom he gave a graphic account of the state of affairs which existed in the regiment he had just left.
The Iron Duke listened attentively to the narration, and knitted his brow in anger as the colonel related the story of the duelling; and when the latter had finished speaking, he exclaimed in an unmistakably stern and uncompromising tone: ‘It is your fault, sir! You should have brought some of the ringleaders to a court-martial, and cashiered them on the spot. You have sadly neglected your duty, and that is a thing which I never pardon.’
The colonel left the Horse Guards in a very crest-fallen state, and he was hardly surprised when he saw in the next Gazette the announcement that ‘His Majesty had no further need of his services.’
In the meantime the Duke had obtained a special audience of the Prince Regent, to whom he explained the condition of affairs in connection with the regiment in question. The result of the interview was that Colonel A——, a well-known martinet, then on half-pay, was sent for, and the circumstances explained to him; the Prince offering him the command of the regiment on condition that he would undertake to cure the duelling propensities of its officers. Colonel A—— was delighted at the prospect of active service, and he willingly accepted the task assigned to him, it being understood that he was to be granted a royal indemnity for anything serious which might happen to anybody else in his endeavours to put a stop to the duelling. He was a man of high reputation, and had previously held other difficult commands, being known throughout the army as a good soldier but a stern disciplinarian.
Such was the old soldier’s feelings at the special honour conferred on him that on leaving St James’s Palace he actually forgot to return the salute of the sentinels posted at the gates, to the great astonishment of the latter, who knew his punctilious habits.
On his arrival at the garrison he lost no time in making himself acquainted with his brother-officers. He had already laid out his plan of action in his own mind, and was fully determined to allow nothing to swerve him a hair’s-breadth from the path of duty. At the mess-table he behaved with studied politeness and amiability of manner; and his subordinates indicated that they were greatly pleased with their new commander. He chatted pleasantly with all, from the senior major down to the youngest ensign, and when the cloth was removed, regaled them with the latest gossip and doings of London society. Before they separated for the night, however, he took the opportunity of informing them in a very quiet manner, that he had heard of the frequent duels which had lately taken place in the corps, and that it seemed a matter of regret to him that they could not manage to live in peace and amity. ‘However,’ he said, ‘if it be your wish, gentlemen, to fight out your quarrels in this way, I shall interpose no obstacle to your doing so. But this can only be by your pledging your word of honour now, to the effect that in future no duel shall take place without my permission having been first obtained. As I am your colonel, it is necessary that my authority should be acknowledged in all that relates to the honour of the regiment.’
The officers looked at each other and then at the colonel, and a somewhat embarrassing silence ensued; but it was broken by Colonel A——, who said: ‘Don’t be afraid that I shall refuse your request; on the contrary, I shall only be too pleased to grant my permission if, on examining the facts of the case, I find sufficient reason to think that the applicant’s amour propre has been wounded, and that a hostile meeting is indispensable.’
At these reassuring words the young fire-eaters were satisfied, and at once gave the promise demanded; and Colonel A—— then retired to his chamber, where, overcome with the fatigue of a rough voyage, he soon found himself snugly ensconced in the arms of Morpheus.
On the following morning he was rather rudely awakened from a refreshing slumber by a loud rapping at his chamber-door; and on challenging his early visitors, he was informed that it was Captain Lord Vellum and Ensign Warbottle who wished to speak to him on a matter of the gravest importance.
‘You might have chosen a more convenient hour for your visit, gentlemen,’ said the colonel, who was naturally loath to rise from his bed at five o’clock on the first morning after his voyage.
‘It is an “affair of honour,” colonel,’ was the significant reply, ‘and cannot be delayed. We beg you will admit us instantly.’
The colonel rose and opened the door to the early comers. They were two handsome young men, who had on the previous evening already attracted Colonel A——’s attention by the extreme friendliness which they exhibited for each other. They respectfully saluted their commanding officer as they entered the room, and the latter broke an awkward silence by demanding of them the object of their visit.
Ensign Warbottle again raised his hand in salute as he replied: ‘We have come to ask your permission to fight, colonel.’
‘Indeed!’ exclaimed Colonel A——. ‘I thought you were great friends.’
‘Yes, colonel, we have been most intimate friends from our youth upward,’ said Lord Vellum, ‘and we respect each other very sincerely; but we have had a dispute, and our wounded honour must be satisfied.’
‘Then I presume that something very serious must have occurred, gentlemen, to make the only remedy for it a recourse to the pistol?’
‘It is indeed a very serious matter, colonel,’ replied Ensign Warbottle; ‘and it is this. After you had left the table last night, we chatted over what you told us about the doings in London lately; and in the enthusiasm of the moment, I remarked that I should like to be there, riding at the head of a troop of Life Guards, and escorting the Prince Regent, with my silver helmet glittering in the sun and my drawn sword in my hand. Whereupon Lord Vellum said with a sneer that I was a feather-bed soldier, and that a leathern helmet would be quite good enough for such as I. I took no notice of this remark; but I was annoyed and excited; and when he further asserted that the officers of the Life Guards wore brass helmets, human nature could stand it no longer, and I gave him the lie. He retaliated by striking me on the face; an insult, Colonel A——, which justifies me, I think, in demanding a hostile meeting.’ The last words were said in a manner which admitted of only one meaning, and the two young officers exchanged glances of mutual hatred and defiance.
‘It is indeed grave, gentlemen,’ sententiously remarked the colonel: ‘the helmets worn by the officers of His Majesty’s Life Guards are neither silver nor brass, but white metal lacquered with silver-gilt; but this information will not, I presume, alter the position of affairs. Do you still wish to fight the question out?’
‘Certainly, sir!’ exclaimed the two officers.
‘Very well,’ replied the colonel gravely, ‘far be it from me to interpose any obstacle to your meeting, gentlemen; but this duel must be a serious one, as befits so important a question as the Life Guards’ helmets, and not an affair resulting in a mere scratch, as I am given to understand is generally the case in these mess quarrels. Remember that you are British officers and not Spanish bravoes, and that the honour of a British officer can only be vindicated by the death of his opponent. Go, gentlemen, and fight your duel; and I will meet the survivor on his return.’
The two young men saluted the colonel and retired. A few minutes afterwards, they and their seconds were seen hurrying off to the place of meeting—a spot which is known in the garrison to this day as ‘Duel Avenue.’
Three hours later, Colonel A—— went down into the parade-ground to inspect the regiment, and he was surprised to see both Lord Vellum and Ensign Warbottle amongst the officers who approached him to give their morning salute. The latter had his arm in a sling; and to the stern inquiry of Colonel A—— as to whether the duel had yet taken place, he replied, with a forced smile lighting up his face: ‘Yes, colonel; his lordship has given me a nasty scratch in the arm.’
‘A scratch in the arm!’ exclaimed the colonel contemptuously. ‘And do you call that fighting, gentlemen—do you call that fighting? And for so important a question as the helmets of His Majesty’s Life Guards! Bah! it is nothing! This matter must be fought over again, under pain of instant dismissal from the service if my order be disobeyed!’
‘But’—— began Lord Vellum, attempting to express his satisfaction at the reparation his wounded honour had received.
‘But me no buts, gentlemen!’ exclaimed the colonel angrily. ‘I have the Prince’s instructions on this point, and it is for you to vindicate your own honour in a proper manner, or retire disgraced from His Majesty’s service.’
This alternative was one not to be thought of; and it need scarcely be said that the young fire-eaters chose rather to fight again than be cashiered. The duel was fought again, and this time Lord Vellum was shot through the body—a wound which laid him on a sick-bed for two months.
During this long period many quarrels had taken place at the mess-table, some of which had been settled by the colonel acting as ‘arbitrator;’ and others stood over for his permission to fight—a permission which he refused to grant until the result of Lord Vellum’s illness should become known. In the meantime Colonel A—— had communicated with the Duke of Wellington, from whom he received explicit instructions to carry the matter out to the bitter end, as the only means of putting a stop to a matter which was fast becoming a world-wide scandal.
Lord Vellum was carefully attended to during his illness by his ‘friend and enemy’ Ensign Warbottle, to whose efforts he not only owed his life, but was enabled at the end of the two months to take a short walk every morning. His recovery then proceeded rapidly, and he soon became enabled to walk without any support whatever.
The two friends were walking together one morning, when they suddenly found themselves face to face with Colonel A——.
‘Ah, gentlemen, good-morning!’ exclaimed the latter. ‘I am delighted to see his lordship out again, especially as it will now enable you to finish your affaire d’honneur in a more satisfactory manner.’
The young officers, scarcely believing their own ears, were for a time struck dumb with astonishment, and they gazed at each other and at the colonel with looks of bewilderment and despair.
‘You see, gentlemen,’ said the colonel gravely, ‘that this question of the Life Guards’ helmets is of such importance that I deemed it advisable, since his lordship’s illness, to write to the Duke of Wellington on the subject; and I have here His Grace’s orders that the duel should be renewed again and again until the life of one of the combatants has been forfeited.’ As he spoke, Colonel A—— drew from the breast-pocket of his coatee a large letter, bearing on its envelope the words ‘On His Majesty’s Service’ in large black letters, and in one corner the notice in red ink, ‘Very Urgent.’
‘But,’ said the young ensign, ‘his lordship has not recovered yet; besides’——
‘When one can walk,’ interrupted the colonel, ‘one can also fire off a pistol; and it is not conducive to the interests and dignity of the service that so important a question as the equipment of His Majesty’s body-guard should any longer be left undecided.’
The two young officers, who had cemented their friendship anew during the period of illness, here took each other’s hands and gazed long and silently into each other’s face. Colonel A—— turned away to hide his emotion; for being really possessed of a kindly disposition, he began to regret the stern and unbending part he had been called upon to perform. Brushing the signs of his weakness away from his eyes, he turned once more towards the young officers and said: ‘Gentlemen, I have orders from England to supersede you in the regiment to which we all have the honour to belong; and I am only to waive the execution of these orders on condition that the duel is renewed, as already stated. Your honour is absolutely in your own hands, and you must choose your own course. I leave you to decide, gentlemen, what that course shall be, and bid you for the present adieu.’ So saying, the colonel left the two friends to decide upon their own fate. They ultimately decided to consult with their brother-officers on the subject, and to be guided by the general opinion. This opinion turned out to be in favour of another fight; and they once more proceeded to the place of meeting, each mentally resolving not to injure the other, but each exchanging portraits and letters for their friends. The fatal weapons were discharged, and Ensign Warbottle fell to the earth with a shot buried in his heart.
The grief of Lord Vellum knew no bounds, for he had been led to believe that the balls had been withdrawn from the pistols. He threw himself on the inanimate body of his friend, and could with great difficulty be removed therefrom. At length he was conducted to the house of a married officer; and from there he indited a letter to Colonel A——, tendering his resignation, and reproaching the latter with the death of his friend.
The same afternoon, Colonel A—— assembled the other officers, and addressing himself especially to those whose applications to fight were in suspension, declared himself ready to grant one more permission on the same conditions as the other, namely that ‘for honour’s sake’ the combatants should fight to the death. In the pause which ensued, one officer after another saluted the colonel respectfully, and then retired as silently as they came, leaving him alone in the mess-room and master of the situation.
It was a rude lesson which these officers had received, but it fully accomplished its purpose, and from that day to this duelling has been almost unknown in the British army.