“You may now cock your pistols gentlemen,” cried the Second in a firm voice lest there be any doubt or confusion.
Neither officer was unused to the ritual of the duel and dutifully pulled back the hammer of their respective weapons before pointing them to the ground with a straight arm down by their sides, awaiting the next command.
“When I drop my handkerchief you will bring your weapons to bear and fire,” cried the Second, his voice now trembling with emotion at the heart-breaking prospect of his best friend about to meet his Maker.
At the edge of the meadow, a few sheep grazed disinterestedly on the sparse grass, while in the distance the early rising farm workers could be seen making their way down Path Brae towards the allotted tasks which awaited them that day, unaware of the drama about to unfold on their doorstep. The Kirk bell was still, this day being a Wednesday and far too early for any worshippers to be abroad. The chill and absolute silence that pervaded the scene was about to be shattered by the loud report of deadly weapons.
The handkerchief fell, the officers raised their guns and blazed away – the crash of their volleys so close together that they merged into a single reverberating roar, sending startled crows croaking and flapping from the nearby trees. A dense cloud of powder smoke briefly obscured the combatants from the view of the Seconds who peered anxiously to determine the outcome of this bitter encounter, each hoping against hope that their man had survived …
The year was 1805. Nelson’s emphatic naval victory at Trafalgar was only a few months away and ‘mad’ King George III sat on the British throne. The war with Napoleonic France and her allies had been raging for many years, yet two officers garrisoned in the King’s service at Edinburgh Castle had somehow contrived to quarrel and were now about to settle a matter of ‘honour’ in a way that might reduce His Majesty’s forces by two in number. They had chosen Kirkliston for their encounter, possibly for its easy access along the Stirling road and being a reasonable distance from disapproving superiors, while dawn was a better time to ensure that there were as few witnesses as possible, for duelling in Britain was illegal and had been so for hundreds of years. In fact, causing someone’s death in that way was regarded as murder and punishable as such. Even so, among the upper classes, a man’s honour was sacrosanct and any perceived slight would invariably lead to a challenge which had to be accepted if one’s standing in polite society was to be maintained. Ironically, even the Duke of Wellington, who had forbidden his troops from duelling, famously was to fight a duel himself after challenging the Earl of Winchelsea in later years. Fortunately, on that occasion neither party was injured in the meeting and profound apologies were later expressed by the earl to the duke’s satisfaction.
Prior to the 19th century, duels had largely been fought with swords, but pistols gradually displaced them as the weapons of choice. Over the years, etiquette and a clear set of rules for pistol duels began to develop. Some of these rules were:
no duels to be fought on a Sunday or near a place of worship;
surgical assistance should be conveniently at hand plus means of transporting the wounded with ease from the place of meeting;
the parties were to salute each other upon meeting “offering this evidence of civilisation”;
the combatants were to present and fire together without resting on their aim;
after firing one shot each, if neither combatant was hit but the challenger satisfied, the duel was declared over;
if the duel continued after one shot each, no more than three exchanges of fire were allowed, as to exchange more shots was considered ‘barbaric’;
the offended party determined what conclusion was acceptable and there were three possible outcomes: (1) first blood when one combatant was wounded; (2) if one combatant was unable physically to proceed; (3) the death of one of the combatants.
As the penalty for murder was death, it was agreed beforehand that should either party be killed, the witnesses at the scene would claim it was the result of a shooting accident to thwart the possibility of prosecution.
Exactly how many duels actually took place in Britain is impossible to quantify due to the veil of secrecy thrown over many of them. Even so, there were about 1,000 recorded between 1785 and 1845, although the last to be fought in England was between two Frenchmen in 1852 with both protagonists being fatally wounded. However, it was normal for strenuous efforts to be made by the representatives and Seconds of both parties beforehand to seek a non-violent remedy to the perceived slight and avoid a ‘meeting’ in the first place. For whatever reason, our two British Army officers were not to be placated, hence their journey in the early hours of that fateful Wednesday morning to meet at the appointed place.
As the powder smoke cleared agonisingly slowly in the still morning air, it seemed as if time itself stood still with both combatants standing rigidly, their pistol arms still outstretched.
“You were ever an indifferent marksman sir – for which I am much gladdened!” cried the challenger.
“No more so than you sir!” was the reply. “But I averted my aim with clear purpose at that sturdy oak which stands behind you.”
“Indeed? In which case we are both blessed with good fortune as my aim too was at an arboreal target some several paces athwart yourself. Your presence here today is suffice to satisfy the requirements of my honour without the need for blood-letting.”
“In which case,” said the other, “pray let us adjourn to our quarters at the castle before the colonel gets wind of our absence.”
Whilst this account of events is somewhat embroidered, it is a matter of record that a duel took place in Kirkliston on Wednesday, 20th March 1805. Here is the report from the Aberdeen Journal dated 23th March 1805:
In an age when duelling was fairly commonplace, it is not altogether surprising that such an event took place. Maybe ‘Kirky’ was not quite the sleepy little village people thought it was after all.
Kirkliston Heritage Society
National Library of Scotland
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