Deliberation, Democracy, and Dueling:
Legislative Violence in the United States
May 18, 2004
Eugene L. Wolfe
pwolfe@ameritech.net
In 1789, Representatives Matthew Lyon (VT) and Roger Griswold (CT) battled each other with a cane and a fire tong on the floor of the House. In 1804, Vice President Aaron Burr fatally wounded Federalist Party leader Alexander Hamilton in a duel in New Jersey. In 1826, Secretary of State Henry Clay exchanged pistols shots with Senator John Randolph (VA) after the latter accuses him in the Senate of forging documents. In 1838, Rep. William Graves (KY) killed Rep. Jonathan Cilley (ME) in a duel stemming from comments the former made in the House. In 1850, during a heated debate in the Senate, Henry Foote (MS) advanced “menacingly” toward Thomas Benton (MO), who retreated, pistol in hand. In 1856, Rep. Preston Brooks (SC) caned Sen. Charles Sumner (MA) on the floor of the Senate after the latter’s remarks in a debate.
A commitment to nonviolent means is seen as one of the hallmarks of democratic regimes. Yet exactly how this blissful state of affairs emerges is far from clear. Giovanni Sartori argues that “the taming of politics,” as a result of which "politics no longer kills, is no longer a warlike affair, and…peacelike politics affirm itself as the standard modus operandi of a polity," is, with secularization, a political precondition for democracy.1 Some of the taming mechanisms identified by students of democracy and democratization include pacts, elite settlements, and power-sharing.2
Normatively appealing though it may be, the notion that political actors must abjure violence before entering the democratic arena is hard to square with the evidence. As Nancy Bermeo observes, "In many cases, democratization seems to have proceeded alongside weighty and even bloody popular challenges."3 Indeed, a move toward democracy may actually encourage political violence. According to Jack Snyder, "Since the French Revolution, the earliest phases of democratization have triggered some of the world's bloodiest nationalist struggles."4
If tamed politics are not a precondition for democracy, they could be a consequence if that sort of regime encourages political actors to pursue their goals through nonviolent means. Robert Dahl ties the ebbing of political violence to the increased opportunities for those out of power that is found in liberal parliamentary democracy, asserting: "The system of managing major political conflicts of a society by allowing one or more opposition parties to compete with the governing parties for votes in elections and in parliament is…one of the greatest and most unexpected social discoveries that man has ever stumbled onto.”5 The implication is that by giving people a peaceful way to pursue their political goals, democratic rules of the game provide an attractive alternative to violent behavior.
Charles Tilly makes a similar claim, arguing that as parliament began to play a larger political role in late 18th and early 19th century Britain, peaceful attempts to influence the legislature replaced violence as the predominant mode of popular contention.6 However it is far from clear why the possibility of open participation in political competition should tame all actors, especially those who seek goals that have only limited public support. On the contrary, those who cannot get what they want in a democracy may have an incentive to use violence to undermine the regime.7
Even if democracy is linked to decreased political violence, the reasons for expecting such a relationship seem stronger at the macro than the micro level. That is, democracy may give most groups a long-term incentive to behave peacefully, but it is far from clear that the same holds for individual politicians in the short term. On the contrary, the intense, high-stakes, public political competition characteristic of democracy seems conducive to the sorts of physical conflict found in the opening paragraph. There are obviously countervailing forces; legislative violence is the exception rather than the rule in every democracy. But why legislators are more apt to choose force over discourse in some situations but not others has received relatively little theoretical attention.
Politicians Behaving Badly
Admittedly, the misbehavior of politicians often seems less tragedy than farce.8 But disregard for parliamentary rules and norms may undermine an atmosphere conducive to legislative efficacy. As Eric Uslaner points out, "Strong-arm tactics spread rapidly, like a contagious disease. If not restrained, nasty actors can dominate the nice majority."9 Moreover, violence in parliament can bruise not only the bodies of the principals but also the body politic. Not only can widespread misbehavior by popular representatives discredit democratic institutions, micro-level sparks can ignite macro-level conflagrations. As one study concludes, "Not only do most instances of popular contention grow out of temporally prior episodes of elite conflict; the latter have the capacity to influence these episodes and significantly reshape the broader systems of institutionalized power in which they occur."10 In Japan, for example, physical conflict between political parties on the floor of the Diet sometimes has led to unrest in the streets.11 In short, no comity is often no comedy.
This article seeks to explain the variation over time of two sorts of micro-level political violence involving U.S. Senators and Representatives: physical conflict stemming from debate on the legislative floor and duels (and challenges) arising from political disputes.12 The latter have received considerably more attention than the former, partly because challenges and their consequences are more apt to leave a paper trail. Yet the two should be considered together because both have arisen out of processes fundamental to democracy: competitive elections and parliamentary deliberation. Both processes often generate powerful emotions, but in the U.S. they were more likely to result in parliamentary violence in the 19th century than in the 20th. There were at least 47 incidents prior to 1900 and 18 after. An examination of why this is sheds light on the mechanisms by which politics are tamed. More broadly, it illustrates why contemporary theories of democratization have difficulty accounting for the United States and other early transitions.
Accounts of famous encounters are common, but a comprehensive listing of incidents of legislative violence in the US has yet to be published. Governments do not tend to keep statistics on fights in parliament, behavior that is contrary to legislative rules. Dueling has been illegal for most of American history, although this often did not deter those involved from publishing accounts of encounters to demonstrate that they had acquitted themselves honorably. So the tally of incidents considered here (and included in the Appendix) likely is incomplete. Still, it is clear that legislative violence has been far from rare in U.S. history. The list includes 31 violent confrontations (mostly on the floor) and 34 duels or challenges. Moreover, although the focus here is on lawmakers at the federal level, there is reason to think that similar dynamics applied in state and local governments.13
Puzzles of legislative Violence
In a rational world, one might expect legislative violence never to occur. The kinds of behavior liable to trigger a fight on the floor or a challenge are common knowledge. The potential costs of such behavior—serious injury or even death—should deter politicians from engaging in them. Indeed, proponents of dueling claimed that the threat of a challenge forced men to behave with greater moderation. To some extent, this claim seems borne out by the evidence: fights on the floor of Congress appear less common during dueling’s heyday. But duels were hardly rare, suggesting that one form of violence was only substituted for another. Why either kind would actually occur so frequently is puzzling, particularly in early America.
Widespread parliamentary violence is surprising given the emphasis that prominent scholars place on the relative lack of internecine strife in the U.S. in the wake of the Revolution.14 As Richard Hofstadter argues, "in waging revolution and making constitutions, the leading men of the revolutionary generation had learned to do business with each other through discussion and concession, and had grown somewhat self-conscious and justifiably proud of their flair for compromise."15 Joseph Ellis points out that, unlike with many other revolutions and national independence movements, "the conflict within the American revolutionary generation remained a passionate yet bloodless affair in which the energies released by national independence did not devour its own children.” He argues that the 1804 Burr-Hamilton duel “represented the singular exception to this rule."16
Yet legislative violence in the first decades after Independence was significantly more common than Ellis implies. Politics became polarized in the 1790s, a decade that was, according to John Howe, "peculiarly violent." “[I]ndividuals who not so long before cooperated closely in the struggle against England and even in the creation of a firmer continental government now found themselves mortal enemies, the bases of their earlier trust somehow worn away."17 Each ideological camp thought the other a mortal threat to the nascent republic. Consequently, “politics was a deadly business, with little room for optimism or leniency, little reason to expect the best rather than suspect the worst of one's political enemies."18 Character assassinations, often triggers to attempts at the real thing, were commonplace. In the first years of the 19th century, for example, Thomas Jefferson, awkwardly serving as both Vice President and leader of the opposition, was accused of ”Jacobinism, atheism, fanaticism, unscrupulousness, wanton folly, incompetence, personal treachery, and political treason."19 It is a wonder not that legislative violence existed but that it was not more common.
The early American case is surprising for another reason. Legislative disorder often is a group response to political weakness. The legislative minority, ignored by the majority and lacking the votes to block an offensive measure, turns to violence in frustration. In March 2004, for example, outnumbered supporters of South Korean President Roh Moo Hyun resorted to physical resistance in the National Assembly in an (unsuccessful) attempt to prevent his impeachment.20 Episodes of parliamentary violence in Britain and Japan both fit this pattern.21 In the US, however, violence typically was not a group affair but a “war between two,” the literal translation of the Latin duellum. Moreover, fights tended to be more personal than partisan.
Federalism and a constitutional separation of powers decrease the stakes of legislative contests by giving minorities other arenas in which to pursue their interests.22 So US politicians face less incentive to resort to violence in an effort to stave off legislative defeat than in more centralized political systems. Even so, if frustration at political weakness drives politicians to adopt violent tactics, one would expect more fighting in the 20th century, when minority rights in the legislature were weak, than in the 19th century, when they were considerably stronger.23 That parliamentary violence was greater in the earlier period suggests that it did not arise out of political frustration of the legislative minority, as was often the case elsewhere. Instead, violence in the US was a product of words spoken both in debate and on the campaign trail. This leads to a third surprising facet of parliamentary violence in the US.
Those who theorize about deliberation usually assume that violence will not be employed due to pre-political norms that discourage this and other impediments to the rational exchange of views.24 If violence does occur, presumably those who employ it are assumed to lack the capacity to debate effectively. As Lloyd and Susanne Rudolph argue, "Legislative debate is a highly stylized form of verbal combat. Legislators who cannot use their tongues fling shoes. Legislators who do not know how to use the rules to their advantage prefer chaos."25 Bruce Lincoln makes a similar claim: "those who speak through the medium of force implicitly acknowledge their inability to command the obedience or even the respectful attention of their interlocutors by any less strenuous means."26
Yet parliamentary violence in early America hardly seems to have been a weapon of the deliberatively weak. As one study of Congress points out, "In the earliest years, when the House was truly the national forum, men of eloquence were almost commonplace.”27 Men like Burr and Hamilton were hardly slouches in this regard. Those who resorted to violence seldom did so because they lacked the rhetorical or analytical skills to counter arguments made in debate. Rather, they typically fought in response to public attacks, real or perceived, on their character.
With parties inchoate at best, political disputes in early America often became personal. Although the literature on deliberation esteems independence on the part of participants is discussions, there is seldom appreciation for the risk this may entail. Weak or nonexistent parties deprive participants in debate of a measure of “cover.” Instead of appearing to speak for a group, they speak only for themselves. To dispute what they say is to challenge not only their reputation but also their very identity. As Joanne Freeman observes in the context of the early Republic, "An attack on a political measure was an attack on an individual, and an attack on an individual demands personal defense."28
Conflict over Slavery
So what explains the pattern of parliamentary violence in early America? Emotions may influence the strategies people choose in a conflict.29 Issues that arouse the greatest passions would seem the most likely generate violence. So it should be no surprise that disputes about slavery, one of the most polarizing issues in American history, played a central role in many incidents of parliamentary violence. By one calculation, 40 percent of the breaches of comity in Congress between 1790 and 1956 occurred in the three decades preceding the Civil War.30
What is surprising about parliamentary violence in the few years prior to the outbreak of the War between the States is how limited it was. Tensions were so high in the legislature that it is almost hard to believe the first shots of the war were fired at Fort Sumter, rather than in the U.S. Capitol. Dean Yarwood explains his surprising finding that norm observance in the Senate differed little between 1850 and 1860 by arguing that secessionists had an interest in maintaining the institution because it provided a forum in which they could try to attract those from border states to their cause.31 But while politicians may have continued to refer to colleagues in respectful terms, the actions of quite a few hardly indicated a great desire to preserve legislative institutions.
By late 1859, Democrats from slave states were using obstructionist tactics to block the election of a House Speaker. Forty days into the session, they had permitted a total of only 45 votes; during a similar period in 1855, no fewer than 130 ballots had been taken.32 Republicans responded largely with moderation, cognizant that “a spark would have set loose an explosion…Practically all members were now armed with deadly weapons. In both chambers, Senator Hammond said, 'the only persons who do not have a revolver and a knife are those who have two revolvers.'” The politicians were not alone in bearing arms. ”Supporters of both parties in the galleries also bore lethal weapons, and were ready to use them."33 In addition, the governor of South Carolina "promised armed support to the Congressmen of his State if they offered forcible resistance to the seating of such a Speaker as John Sherman."34 That parliamentary violence on the floor was avoided immediately prior to the Civil War seems due less to the minority’s strategic incentives to maintain legislative institutions then to a majority deterred from acting more aggressively against obstructionism.
When the majority did not behave with some restraint, legislative violence grew. For example, Lorenzo Sabine claims it was no coincidence that dueling's apogee occurred during Andrew Jackson's two terms (1829-37) as President. "The Democrats ruled the roost and many dashing young gentlemen had been elected from Southern and Western states. Conscious of the great numerical superiority, they were intolerant and overbearing, especially in the House of Representatives. Often they tried to carry matters off with a high hand."35
Explaining Patterns of Legislative Violence
An imperious majority does not always produce a spike in legislative violence. Eric Uslaner argues that broader patterns of partisanship in society also play a key role. When the voting public has expressed a clear preference for certain parties and policies, as at the crest of a realignment cycle, members of the legislative minority are more likely to acquiesce to heavy-handedness on part of the majority. As public support for a particular alignment becomes less pronounced, so too does the minority’s tolerance for bullying by the majority. Thus the antebellum era, the late nineteenth century, and the 1920s all saw increases in incivility and legislative violence at the troughs of realignment cycles.36 Indeed, in the 1880s, Speaker Warren Keifer (OH) reportedly “presided over the House with a pistol stuffed in his pocket to resist, if he had to, a plot to hurl him bodily from the Speaker’s chair.”37
The claim that one should expect more violence when political tensions are high seems to fit the evidence. However, this does not explain the qualitative and quantitative decline in violence over time. That is, although changes in the country’s political alignment have occurred in both throughout its history, legislative violence in the 20th century was both less common and less lethal than in the 19th. Moreover, while some notable fights stem from debates about the great issues of the era, particularly slavery, most concerned matters that were both more mundane and more common in democratic politics. Given that the sources of potential violence have always been plentiful, it is worth considering why physical conflict has declined over time.
Nelson Polsby argues that reason “the House has long since left behind the era of guns and dogs, of canings and fisticuffs, that occupied so much of the 19th century scene,” is not only changing manners and morals but also “a growth in the value of the House as an institution capable of claiming the loyalty and good behavior of its members.”38 He implies that as members become more confident of a long career in the national legislature, they have a greater incentive to avoid behavior that would undermine the institution and give them an unfavorable reputation in the eyes of their peers.
Yet parliamentary violence did not die, as Polsby implies, at the beginning of the 20th century. Moreover, his claim seems problematic on theoretical grounds. How costly a negative reputation will be is likely to depend on the frequency of interaction between members of a group. In legislative committees, where members are forced to work together, there is evidence that they try hard to get along.39 In a in a large body such as the House, however, it is far from clear that members interact often enough, or substantially enough, to deter bad behavior. More importantly, it is far from clear that engaging in violence has been as damaging to reputations as Polsby suggests.
Involvement in violence does not seem to have been an obstacle to career advancement for at least some individuals. Brockholst Livingston killed a man in a duel that grew out of the former’s published mockery of Federalists. Not only was Livingston not tried for murder for a practice that was illegal in New York (the actual duel was fought in New Jersey), but he later was appointed to the US Supreme Court. Before he became president, Andrew Jackson was said to have been involved in 103 duels, 14 times as principal, including one in which he killed a man under questionable circumstances.40 Although John Quincy Adams did not engage in duels, all three of his “opponents in the 1824 presidential election were duelists, as was his single opponent in 1828. Both of the major candidates in 1832 followed the code of honor.”41
Politicians who employed violence often found themselves held in greater esteem. A vote to expel Brooks after his caning of Sumner fell short of the two-thirds majority needed. Nevertheless, Brooks “resigned anyway, sought vindication from his district, and was triumphantly returned after having been presented by admiring constituents with innumerable canes to replace the one shattered across Sumner’s back and head.”42 In Congress, John Quincy Adams “was literally surrounded by men who were celebrities in dueling circles. The most famous was South Carolina’s James Hamilton, who in fourteen trips to the dueling grounds had always wounded but never killed his antagonist. That, in the eyes of his admirers, was perfection.”43
For much of the 19th century, it was not violence but a failure to defend one’s honor violently that most damaged one’s reputation. Violence offered a chance to enhance one’s stature, not diminish it. As such, it was particularly attractive to the members of the losing side in a political contest. "When a failing politician provoked a duel, he salvaged his reputation by placing himself in an environment of mutual respect, a brotherhood of honor and fair competition--the exact opposite of a competitive political realm that encouraged conflict and rewarded aggressive self-promotion."44
For young men hoping to make a reputation, a demonstrated willingness to defend their honor at the risk of death was to show ones suitability for leadership. "As a test of character,” Barbara Holland wryly observes, “duels rounded out the curriculum vitae."45 In this light, it is not surprising that ambitious politicians often saw dueling pistols as essentials of career enhancement.
To ignore an insult or duck a challenge could bring public disgrace, destroying a politician’s career. Fear of such political death led many to face physical death.46 For example, Rep. George Dromgoole (VA) was known as the Brunswick Lion for his political dominance of the county in which his district was located. After being struck in the face by another man for insulting comments at a party, he tried to ignore the incident, both because he had been drunk and because he was a Methodist minister. However, political opponents made so much of his alleged cowardice for refusing to fight that he eventually was forced to issue a challenge.47 As Freeman observes with respect to the most famous example of parliamentary violence in US history: "Compelled by the mandates of politics and honor, dependent on an ill-defined public for political career and private sense of self, Burr and Hamilton dueled because they were afraid not to."48 Even Abraham Lincoln felt compelled to accept a challenge early in his career.49 The paradox of theatrical displays of bravery motivated by cowardice was not lost on observers.
Cold calculation frequently played a part too. As Freeman argues, often “duels did not result from a sudden flare of temper; politicians timed them strategically, sometimes provoked them deliberately.”50 In an era in which personal attacks were common currency in politics, finding a pretext to initiate an affair of honor usually was not difficult. The shrewd politician could therefore choose his target for maximum effect.
For example, in the wake of his defeat in the New York gubernatorial election on 1804, Aaron Burr might have been expected to challenge DeWitt Clinton, the mayor of New York City. During their long political rivalry, Clinton had been responsible for numerous attacks on Burr’s character. In 1803, Senator Jonathan Dayton (NJ), a Burr supporter, accused Clinton, then a senator, of “impeaching in debate the motives of Members.” Clinton responded that the accusation was “unfounded and untrue,” thereby calling Dayton a liar. Although the dispute took place in the senate, its roots were found in the politics of New York City, of which Clinton recently had been elected mayor. Thus the political logic of the dispute: “Clinton had won an important election, and the Burrites bolstered their ailing status and denounced their foe by instigating an affair of honor.”51 Although Clinton managed to avoid a duel in this instance, after writing a note, later read in the Senate, disclaiming any intention to question the veracity of Dayton’s comments, he was no stranger to the field of honor: a year earlier, he had exchanged five shots with John Swartwout, a Burr supporter.
Given the bad blood between the Burrites and the Clintonites, one might have expected the two leaders to find themselves on the dueling ground in the wake of the 1804 election. Instead, Burr directed his challenge to Hamilton. They also had a long rivalry. Indeed, Hamilton had taken steps to avert a challenge from Burr on at least two earlier occasions. But, as Thomas Fleming argues, Hamilton ultimately was a more attractive target for Burr’s challenge because the former had claim to the role Burr sought for himself: the country’s preeminent military leader.52 As in many other cases, violence was a means to advance ones reputation, not diminish it.
The calculated nature of parliamentary violence should not be overstated, however. Although strategic considerations often were present, some incidents appear irrational by almost any measure. An example is the 1831 fight between Spencer Pettis, newly elected to Congress, and Major Thomas Biddle. In response to a dispute that started in the election campaign, Pettis challenged Biddle to a duel. The latter accepted, and, as the challenged party, was entitled to choose the particulars. Being nearsighted, he chose pistols at five feet. Both were killed.53
The dictates of the code of honor notwithstanding, mutually assured destruction was frowned upon in the pre-nuclear era. To defend his honor, a gentleman was expected to risk death, not court it. So unconventional dueling arrangements often could be declined without a loss of honor. Knowing this, the challenged party might escape an encounter by proposing terms expected to be unacceptable. Congressman John “Bowie-knife” Potter (WI), earned a colorful sobriquet and finessed a duel by insisting on an unorthodox choice of weaponry. But sometimes one’s bluff was called.
The dispute that led to an 1819 duel between Armistead Mason and John McCarty apparently began at the polls. Mason, who would suffer defeat in his bid for re-election to the US Senate from Virginia, reportedly challenged the right to vote of McCarty, his cousin. The latter than challenged the former to meet on the field of honor. Mason declined on a technicality, promising to accept a “regular” challenge. McCarty called Mason a coward, prompting the latter to issue his own challenge. McCarty declined to accept it, arguing that Mason’s cowardice demonstrated that they were not social equals. Friends prevailed upon Mason to let the matter rest, which he did for a few months. However, after discussing the dispute with Andrew Jackson, Mason resolved to challenge McCarty again. To obtain satisfaction, he instructed his seconds to accept any terms and any distance McCarty proposed. Not knowing this, McCarty sought to avoid a duel by demanding outrageous conditions: the principals should both jump from the capitol dome, or sit on a lit barrel of gunpowder, or fight with daggers. Mason’s seconds rejected all of these as not in conformance with the code duello. McCarty then proposed a duel fought with muskets charged with buckshot at a distance of 10 ft. This the seconds accepted, with slight modifications: the principals would fire a single ball from 12 ft. In the ensuing duel, Mason was killed and McCarty was seriously injured.54
The Death of Dueling
Senseless deaths like this helped turn the tide against dueling, at least in the North. While public support for the practice had never been strong in New England, dueling became the target of increased mobilization in the wake of fatal injuries received on the field of honor by Hamilton in 1804 and Cilley in 1838. As Ellis observes, in the wake of Hamilton’s death "What had once seemed an honorable if illegal contest of wills, bathed in the mist of aristocratic glamour and clad in the armor of medieval chivalry, came to be regarded as a pathological ritual in which self-proclaimed gentlemen shot each other in juvenile displays of their mutual insecurity."55 The evils of dueling became the topic of sermons, lectures and publications.
One of the most entertaining criticisms of the practice was published in 1858. The subject was the famed Bladensburg dueling ground, a patch of earth near Washington DC that was the site of numerous encounters. Mocking the capacity of the code duello to resolve disputes, the ground was described as “the court of last resort, in which knotty points of etiquette, abstruse social problems, and questions of veracity, propriety, and right were expounded by the convincing power of gunpowder."56 The duel itself was sardonically portrayed as form of deliberation:
The process of ratiocination was exceedingly luminous, and so simple as to be adapted to the commonest capacity. It was based on the theory of some supposed connection between saltpetre and a change of opinion. It assumed that an argument made by a rhetorician might be unintelligible or inconclusive, but that a syllogism propelled by powder, if properly aimed, could hardly fail to carry conviction to the dullest intellect. It believed that the intricate bearings of a subject could be best investigated at ten paces; and that propositions, difficult, and apparently irreconcilable, by a piece of hollow hardware, held parallel to the observer's line of vision, could be rendered perfectly simple and harmonious. Hence the pistol was esteemed the most effective of moral agents; though new views of duty were sometimes revealed through the rifle, and obstinate ideas exploded from the muzzle of a musket.57
Lest anyone miss the point, an illustration of the paraphernalia of dueling was captioned “elements of logic.”58.
Although the pen may be mightier than the sword, satirical attacks on dueling seem to have had little effect in the antebellum South, where the practice remained strong. In 1838, the year Cilley was mortally wounded at Bladensburg, a popular adaptation of the code duello written by South Carolina Governor John Wilson was published. Slavery seems at least partly to blame for the persistence of dueling: white men developed an exaggerated sense of honor to distinguish them from, and to justify the subjugation of, slaves.59 But the code of honor also could be useful to those who wished to preserve the status quo.
As one scholar points out, the political duel “threatened both to chill political discourse and to turn such discourse into a justification for assassination… Indeed, it is no accident that South Carolina, the state with the reputation for the least free speech and the most reactionary politics, also gained notice for a devotion to duels."60 When John Randolph entered Congress in 1799, “he arrived in Washington with a case of duelling pistols, which, it was said, he had carried with him to keep Robert Goodloe Harper--a Congressman from South Carolina and leader of the Federal Party the House--in order."61 While the willingness to exchange shots would diminish in the wake of the Civil War, while it lasted it provided those disposed to duel with a bit of a deliberative advantage. "[S]outhern congressmen often 'crowded' New Englanders--bullied and taunted them--because they knew that northerners would resist gunplay."62
For all the good it did them, those unwilling to fight had the law on their side. Even before Hamilton’s death, “virtually every state had a statute specifically prohibiting duels and providing harsh punishment to duelists.”63 Yet the code of honor repeatedly proved more compelling than the legal code. Not only did lawmakers frequently break the law by dueling, but they also encouraged the practice by attending the affairs of colleagues, either as seconds or as spectators. Those sworn to uphold the law were sometimes no better.
On August 21 1858, California state representative William Ferguson was mortally wounded in a duel with former judge George Johnson after the former made comments about a lady friend of the latter. Johnson, who had drawn up an anti-dueling bill that recently had been passed by the state legislature, departed San Francisco on the first ship leaving port.64 About a year later, California saw another fatal duel involving a jurist. In dispute that grew out of disagreement over whether slavery should be permitted in the state, US Senator David Broderick (CA) was killed by David Terry, who had stepped down as Chief Justice of the California Supreme Court in preparation for the meeting.65
It is not entirely accurate to say that legislators and jurists flouted the law by engaging in duels. They implicitly acknowledged what they were doing was illegal by trying to limit their exposure. As Ellis argues "in addition to the established etiquette of the code duello, veteran duelists had developed an elaborately elusive vocabulary, what we would now call the 'language of deniability,' so that all participants could subsequently claim ignorance if ever brought to court."66 Hamilton and Burr, for example, referred to their meeting in correspondence as an “interview,” and allowed only the seconds to witness the actual encounter. There was also an incentive not to harm seriously one’s adversary, which may explain why the leg wound was almost cliché in political duels. As Freeman points out, “A fair duel was a game of chance that displayed the willingness of both principals to die for their honor, not their skill at inflicting pain or death.”67 To practice one’s marksmanship before taking the field was unseemly. On the other hand, to let an opponent fire first and then “throw away” your own fire by aiming into the air was proper if you had instigated the affair.
Corpses complicated matters. In the eyes of the law, killing someone on the field of honor was little different than common murder. It was also considered bad form. But the very severity of the crime often made juries unwilling to convict those involved in fatal duels. Yet duelists could not count on such leniency, particularly when the deceased was popular. When public sentiment demanded it, the law was enforced, more or less.
Amid outrage over Hamilton’s death, for example, New York courts disfranchised for 20 years both seconds involved in the duel. Burr was charged with violating the state’s anti-dueling statue, making him eligible for the same penalty, but he was never tried. He was indicted for murder by a New Jersey grand jury. In 1807, NJ Governor Joseph Bloomfield, a boyhood friend of Burr, got the state Supreme Court to overturn the indictment on a technicality: Hamilton was shot in New Jersey, but did not die there.68
In the wake of Cilley's death, Congress created a committee to investigate the duel (despite a threat from William Johnson (MD) to harm the personal safety of anyone who presumed to investigate an affair of honor between gentlemen.) The committee resolved that Graves should be expelled from the House, while Henry Wise (VA), his second, should be censured. The expulsion motion did not pass the House, but the censure motion did.69 In a sop to public opinion, giving or receiving a challenge in the District of Columbia was outlawed. State legislatures took similar measures, although some discerned partisan motives. According to Don Seitz, "Some states passed anti-duelling laws, partly to pander to the moral sentiment of the community, and partly because the rising Whigs have produced so good a marksman."70
With the code of honor often superceding the criminal code, those opposed to dueling devised new strategies. One of the most effective means to prevent political duels was to tie them to loss of office. By the advent of the Civil War, many states required public officials not to give or accept challenges. South Carolina held out until the 1880s.71 The "last American duel of any note," occurred between two Richmond newspaper editors on January 30, 1883.72 Challenges would be issued afterwards, but duels were not fought.73 Political duels were replaced by other forms of parliamentary violence.
Changing manners and morals did not, as Polsby implies, end parliamentary violence in the 19th century. Throughout the 20th century, politicians continued to assault each other on the legislative floor. What did change was the means employed. Where before “stout hickory sticks,” fire tongs, or even more lethal weapons were wielded against adversaries, by the 20th century fists were the preferred instruments of retribution. The change in armament reflected a change in intention. As Neil MacNeil observes, “No longer did any of the Representatives seriously consider killing any of their colleagues.”74 The same may not always have been true of the Senate: in 1908 someone apparently laced the drink of Robert La Follette (WI), then engaged in a filibuster, with a fatal dose of ptomaine. Nevertheless, the potential lethality of the deliberative process undoubtedly has fallen over time.
That said, legislative violence has not faded away, theories of democratization notwithstanding. In 1985, Rep. Robert Dornan (R-CA) grabbed Rep. Thomas Downey (D-NY) "by his tie and accused him and other Democrats of being weak on national defense." In 1990, Reps. Bob Walker and Craig Washington (D-TX) "had to be restrained from battling over intemperate remarks by Rep. Henry Hyde (R-IL) addressed to Barney Frank (D-MA)."75 Having complained about the heavy-handedness of the Democratic majority, Republicans were expected by some to act with greater sensitivity after they gained control of the House in 1994. However, "[m]ere weeks after a bipartisan civility retreat in the amiable resort of Hershey, Pennsylvania, the House witnessed a physical altercation between Republican Tom Delay of Texas and Democrat David Obey of Wisconsin, during the course of which reference to 'chicken shit tactics' was apparently made."76
A decade later, partisan tension seems even higher. In July 2003, partisan wrangling in the House Ways and Means Committee led Republicans to call the Capitol Police.77 Although the atmosphere may not be quite as bad as in the 1790s, it is hardly conducive to comity. According to one observer, “Today politics is as acrimonious as it has ever been…Everywhere, politicians have taken to using weapons of last resort at the first opportunity.”78 So one should not be surprised to see more Legislative violence in the future.
Conclusion
To some extent, legislative violence is the continuation of politics by other means. When the majority throws its weight around, those in the minority may be tempted to respond with force. For some, the temptation is stronger than for others, which explains why a few names appear repeatedly in the Appendix. The kind of violence that occurs presumably depends on how the legislature is organized. When party discipline is relative weak, as in the United States, aggressive behavior by the majority is likely to result in altercations between individual politicians. When discipline is stronger, as in Japan or South Korea, the result is more apt to be clashes between groups of legislators. But the secular decline in quality and quantity of violence in the US also suggests other factors may be at work.
Almost a century ago, Carl Schmitt blamed the “crisis of parliamentary democracy” on the end of meaningful deliberation within legislative assemblies.79 The shift of the locus of decision making to committees was seen to deprive parliament of its ability to educate the public politically, thereby weakening democracy. But legislative deliberation hardly appears an unalloyed good. When those involved in deliberation are politically autonomous, persuasion becomes an important means of influence. Persuasiveness, in turn, is likely to depend at least partly on reputation, making the latter the subject of contestation. Prior to the development of parties able to organize legislatures along ideological or other lines, competition for influence tends to involve battles over reputation. When politics is personal, “real” deliberation may encourage legislative violence.
The link between legislative violence and the politics of reputation is not unique to the United States. In Britain, for example, the loss of the American colonies, the French revolution, accelerating industrialization, and demands for political reform all contributed to questions about whether the aristocracy could or should continue to play a dominant role in government.80 In the late 18th and early 19th centuries, leading politicians felt compelled to prove their mettle (or metal) on the field of honor. In 1798, while leading the war against Napoleon, British Prime Minister William Pitt fought a duel with M.P. George Tierney over words exchanged in debate in the House of Commons. Although neither was hurt despite exchanging two shots, one might question how wise it was for Pitt “to expose himself to death when his life, more than any other in the kingdom, was vital to preserve if the war were to be won and the kingdom survive.”81 Nevertheless, quite a few other sitting prime ministers were to follow his example. Indeed, the list of British duelists includes "the Dukes of York, Norfolk, Richmond, and Wellington, Lords Shelburne, Talbot, Lauderdale, Townshend, Camelford, Malden, Paget, Londonderry, Castlereagh, Belgrave, and Thurlow, and Fox, Pitt, Sheridan, Canning, Wyndham, Tierney, Hastings, Francis, Grattan, Curran, Burditt, and many other orators and statesmen."82
When the Duke of Wellington, a national hero whose courage was unimpeachable, fought a duel in 1829 over legislation supported by his administration, it might have been expected to set a precedent lesser mortals could not escape.83 By the 1830s, however, political dueling had virtually disappeared. Although public sentiment against dueling played a role, so too did changing modes of political organization. As parties of like-minded individuals replaced less formal arrangements based on social ties, parliamentary deliberation became less personalized. As James McCord argues, "In contrast to the early republic in the United States, where the distrust of parties tended to magnify the obsession with individual reputation and hence to provide continued grounds for duels, in England party politics seemed to reduce the likelihood of confusing private and political realms."84
Democratization also was tied to an upsurge in parliamentary violence across the English Channel. As Gregor Dallas observes, "if 1848 had brought, temporarily, democracy to France it also revolutionized the political duel. Virtually all the major politicians of that era were experienced duellists: Ledru-Rollin, Lamartine, Raspail, Proudhon, Pyat, Cousin."85 By the end of the nineteenth century, according to Barbara Holland, “duels were the national French pastime."86 A contemporary account complained that dueling had become “above all a manoeuvre for obtaining notoriety…In the career of a French politician or journalist, a duel is obligatory."87
While French politicians employed violence to make a name for themselves, it also could serve other purposes.
Leon Gambetta, a founder of the Third Republic and future premier, “gave the lie” to a rival in Assembly in the apparent hope that a demonstrated willingness to fight a duel would deter criticism from other political opponents.88 Gambetta’s second, Georges Clemenceau, whose combative personality would earn him the nickname “the tiger,” established a reputation as an expert duelist after surviving numerous encounters. The future prime minister’s martial skills, combined with his formidable rhetorical talents, evidently encouraged colleagues to treat him with considerable care. Indeed, a Radical deputy complained that the reluctance of colleagues to connect Clemenceau to an 1892 scandal was due "to the fear that he inspired--fear of his sword, fear of his pistol, fear of his tongue."89 In France and Britain, as in the US, the instruments of violence often were seen as a substitute for the tools of deliberation when representative democracy was in its infancy.
1 Giovanni Sartori, "How Far Can Free Government Travel?," Journal of Democracy 6, no. 3 1995. p. 105.
2 John Higley and Michael Burton, "Elite Settlements and the Taming of Politics," Government and Opposition 33, no. 1 1998, Terry Lynn Karl, "Dilemmas of Democratization in Latin America," Comparative Politics 23, no. 1 1990, Arend Lijphart, Democracies: Patterns of Majoritarian and Consensus Government in Twenty-One Countries New Haven: Yale University Press, 1984, Guillermo O' Donnell and Philippe C. Schmitter, Transitions from Authoritarian Rule: Tentative Conclusions About Uncertain Democracies Baltimore: Johns Hopkins U. Press, 1986, Dankwart A. Rustow, "Transitions to Democracy: Toward a Dynamic Model," Comparative Politics 2, no. 3 1970.
3 Nancy Bermeo, "Myths of Moderation: Confrontation and Conflict During Democratic Transitions," Comparative Politics 29, no. 3 1997. p. 314.
4 Jack L. Snyder, From Voting to Violence: Democratization and Nationalist Conflict New York: Norton, 2000. p. 16.
5 Robert A. Dahl, ed., Political Oppositions in Western Democracies New Haven: Yale University Press, 1966. pp. xvii-xviii.
6 Charles Tilly, "Parliamentarization of Popular Contention in Great Britain, 1758-1834," Theory and Society 26, no. 2-3 1997.
7 Juan J. Linz, The Breakdown of Democratic Regimes; Crisis, Breakdown, and Reequilibration Baltimore: Johns Hopkins U. Press, 1978.
8 The more dignified (and inefficient) the institution, the more absurd misbehavior appears. In an effort to prevent the British House of Lords from adopting a law removing all but 92 hereditary peers, the Earl of Burford jumped onto the Woolsack, the seat of the lord chancellor (the upper house speaker), and, resisting efforts by uniformed attendants to remove him, denounced the bill as “treason.” The “lord a-leaping,” as he was dubbed by the British press, subsequently was escorted from the chamber by Black Rod, the official responsible for order the House of Lords. Burford, identified as a direct descendent of one of Charles II’s “bastard sons,” was described as “a bearded aristocrat resembling an Old Testament prophet.” The Times, October 27, 1999. The Guardian, October 27, 1999, October 28, 1999.
9 Eric M. Uslaner, The Decline of Comity in Congress Ann Arbor: U. of Michigan Press, 1993. p. 86.
10 Doug McAdam, Sidney Tarrow, and Charles Tilly, Dynamics of Contention New York: Cambridge University Press, 2001. p. 208. Other claims linking elite divisions to wider social conflict can be found in Harry Eckstein, "On the Etiology of Internal Wars," History and Theory 4, no. 2 1965, G. Bingham Powell, Contemporary Democracies: Participation, Stability, and Violence Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1982.
11 Eugene L. Wolfe, “Creating Democracy’s Good Losers: The Rise, Fall and Return of Parliamentary Disorder in Post-war Japan,” Government and Opposition, vol. 39, no. 1, 2004. 55-77.
12 Violence not linked to politics is not considered here, even when politicians are involved. For example, in 1856, Rep. Philemon Herbert (CA) shot and killed a waiter “who had not promptly served him.” Three years later, Rep. Daniel Sickles (NY) killed “the seducer of his wife” on the streets of Washington. Neil MacNeil, The Forge of Democracy: The House of Representatives New York: McKay, 1963. p. 307. President Thomas Jefferson was challenged to a duel in 1805 by a former close friend who accused him of trying to seduce his wife. Willard Sterne Randall, Thomas Jefferson, New York, Henry Holt, 1993, pp. 558-9. In 1913, Rep. Robert Thomas slightly injured the House doorkeeper in a fight at a Washington hotel. New York Times, August 6, 1913, p. 1.
13 In the Chicago City Council, Ald. Dorothy Tillman “whipped out a gat during a ward-remapping brawl in 1991, and that commotion died down quickly.” The Reader (Chicago), April 7, 2000, p. 20. In Alabama, two state legislators exchanged profanities and a punch was thrown before being separated during a debate on the House floor. One of the legislators would later comment that the scuffle was not as bad as one he got into in the mid-1970s over a proposal to remove the Confederate flag from the state Capitol. “That’s when they passed the resolution not allowing guns in the chamber,” he observed. Birmingham News, 26 April, 2000, from web: al.com. See also the Associated Press report of the same date: cnn.com.
14 Given the Revolution’s rejections of things European, the form that this violence took is also surprising. As two students of dueling observe, "it is curious to reflect that, even in the most virginal nucleus in the comity of nations, amongst a new people inspired with the noblest principles of fraternity and communal liberty, animated with a sincere detestation of all the conventions and shibboleths of an effete civilization on which they had deliberately turned their back in repugnance and disgust, the archaic anomaly of the duello should still survive and flourish. Yet the early history of America demonstrates not only that such a contradiction is possible, but that its paradoxy did not call for comment." Lewis Melville and Reginald Hargreaves, Famous Duels and Assassinations Detroit: Gale, 1974 [1929]. p. 190.
15 Richard Hofstadter, The Idea of a Party System: The Rise of Legitimate Opposition in the United States, 1780-1840 Berkeley: University of California Press, 1969. p. 76.
16 Joseph J. Ellis, Founding Brothers: The Revolutionary Generation New York: Vintage Books, 2000. p. 40.
17 John R. Howe, Jr., "Republican Thought and the Political Violence of the 1790s," American Quarterly 19, no. 2 1967. pp. 147, 151.
18 Ibid. p. 165.
19 Hofstadter, The Idea of a Party System: The Rise of Legitimate Opposition in the United States, 1780-1840. p. 138.
20 Chicago Tribune, March 12, 2004, p. 3.
21 David Judge, "Disorder in the House of Commons," Public Law, no. Autumn 1985. Eugene L. Wolfe, “Creating Democracy’s Good Losers: The Rise, Fall and Return of Parliamentary Disorder in Post-war Japan,” Government and Opposition, vol. 39, no. 1, 2004. 55-77.
22 Dahl, ed., Political Oppositions in Western Democracies. pp. 350-1. Stein Rokkan, "Norway: Numerical Democracy and Corporate Pluralism," in Political Oppositions in Western Democracies, ed. Robert A. Dahl (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1966).
23 Sarah A. Binder, Minority Rights, Majority Rule: Partisanship and the Development of Congress New York: Cambridge University Press, 1997, Douglas Dion, Turning the Legislative Thumbscrews: Minority Rights and Procedural Change in Legislative Politics Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1997.
24 James Johnson, "Arguing for Deliberation: Some Skeptical Considerations," in Deliberative Democracy, ed. Jon Elster (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1998).
25 Lloyd I. Rudolph and Susanne Hoeber Rudolph, In Pursuit of Lakshmi: The Political Economy of the Indian State Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1987. p. 98.
26 Bruce Lincoln, Authority: Construction and Corrosion Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994. p. 76.
27 MacNeil, The Forge of Democracy: The House of Representatives. p. 313.
28 Joanne B. Freeman, "Dueling as Politics: Reinterpreting the Burr-Hamilton Duel," William and Mary Quarterly 53, no. 2 1996. p. 296.
29 G. Bingham Powell and Rodney P. Stiefbold, "Anger, Bargaining, and Mobilization as Middle-Range Theories of Elite Conflict Behavior," Comparative Politics 9, no. 4 1977.
30 Uslaner, The Decline of Comity in Congress. p. 40.
31 Dean L. Yarwood, "Norm Observance and Legislative Integration: The U. S. Senate in 1850 and 1860," Social Science Quarterly 52, no. 1 1970.
32 Allan Nevins, The Emergence of Lincoln, vol. 2 New York: Scribners, 1950. p. 120.
33 Ibid. p. 121.
34 Ibid. p. 122.
35 Hamilton Cochran, Noted American Duels and Hostile Encounters Philadelphia: Chilton, 1963. pp. 129-30.
36 Uslaner, The Decline of Comity in Congress. pp. 40-3.
37 MacNeil, The Forge of Democracy: The House of Representatives. p. 307.
38 Nelson W. Polsby, "The Institutionalization of the U.S. House of Representatives," American Political Science Review 62, no. 1 1968.
39 John f. Manley, "The House Committee on Ways and Means: Conflict Management in a Congressional Committee," American Political Science Review 59, no. 4 1965.
40 In the 1806 duel in which Charles Dickinson was killed, the lithe Jackson wore a loose fitting gown, evidently to disguise his body as a target. He also recocked his pistol after it failed to discharge. Both violate the spirit or letter of the code duello. Cochran, Noted American Duels and Hostile Encounters. pp. 190, 206-7.
41 Leonard L. Richards, The Life and Times of Congressman John Quincy Adams, New York, Oxford University Press, 1986, p. 132.
42 Allan G. Bogue, The Congressman's Civil War New York: Cambridge University Press, 1989. p. 23.
43 Leonard L. Richards, The Life and Times of Congressman John Quincy Adams, New York, Oxford University Press, 1986, p. 132.
44 Joanne B. Freeman, Affairs of Honor: National Politics in the New Republic New Haven: Yale University Press, 2001. p. 180.
45 Barbara Holland, Gentlemen's Blood: A History of Dueling from Swords at Dawn to Pistols at Dusk New York: Bloomsbury, 2003. p. 209.
46 The credo “death before dishonor” was not universally accepted, even in the South. Shortly before the Civil War, for example, Ben Wade (OH) insulted Bob Toombs (GA) on the Senate floor. Although colleagues urged Toombs to send a challenge, he declined, pointing out that Wade was “the deadliest shot in the district.” Major Ben C. Truman, Duelling in America San Diego: Joseph Tabler, 1992. p. 248.
47 Henry W. Lewis, "The Dugger-Dromgoole Duel," North Carolina Historical Review 34, no. 3 1957.
48 Freeman, "Dueling as Politics: Reinterpreting the Burr-Hamilton Duel." p. 316.
49 Illinois State Auditor James Shields challenged Lincoln after being mocked in two newspaper pieces. The principals rowed to a sandbar on the Missouri side of the Mississippi river to escape the harsh anti-dueling laws of Illinois. However, the seconds managed to work out a settlement before the duel took place. Shields’ willingness to accept an apology evidently was influenced by the fact that he was a foot shorter than Lincoln, who had chosen cavalry sabers for the duel. Cochran, Noted American Duels and Hostile Encounters. pp. 126-8.
50 Freeman, "Dueling as Politics: Reinterpreting the Burr-Hamilton Duel." p. 295.
51 Freeman, Affairs of Honor: National Politics in the New Republic. p. 183.
52 Burr was planning to raise a private army to attack Spanish possessions in the Southwest. He evidently hoped to lead the liberated territory, and possibly detach parts of the US, such as New England, where there earlier had been talk of secession. However, the plot fizzled and Burr would later be tried for treason (and acquitted). Thomas Fleming, Duel: Alexander Hamilton, Aaron Burr and the Future of America New York: Basic Books, 1999. pp. 280-92, 382-3.
53 Lorenzo Sabine, Notes on Duels and Duelling Boston: Crosby, Nichols & Co., 1855. pp. 64-5.
54 Clara S. McCarty, Duels in Virginia and Nearby Bladensburg Richmond: Dietz Press, 1976. pp. 35-9.
55 Ellis, Founding Brothers: The Revolutionary Generation. p. 39.
56 "The Bladensburg Dueling Ground," Harper's New Monthly Magazine, March 1858. p. 472.
57 Ibid. pp. 472-3.
58 Ibid. p. 473.
59 Kenneth S. Greenberg, "The Nose, the Lie, and the Duel in the Antebellum South," American Historical Review 95, no. 1 1990.
60 W. J. Rorabaugh, "The Political Duel in the Early Republic: Burr V Hamilton," Journal of the Early Republic 15, no. 1 1995. p. 21.
61 Major Ben C. Truman, Duelling in America San Diego: Joseph Tabler, 1992. p. 88.
62 Freeman, Affairs of Honor: National Politics in the New Republic. p. 169.
63 Rorabaugh, "The Political Duel in the Early Republic: Burr V Hamilton." p. 14.
64 Cochran, Noted American Duels and Hostile Encounters. p. 308.
65 Don C. Seitz, Famous American Duels Freeport, NY: Books for Libraries, 1966 [1929].
66 Ellis, Founding Brothers: The Revolutionary Generation. p. 23.
67 Freeman, Affairs of Honor: National Politics in the New Republic. p. 178.
68 Rorabaugh, "The Political Duel in the Early Republic: Burr V Hamilton." p. 19.
69 Seitz, Famous American Duels. pp. 273-8.
70 Ibid. pp. 280-1.
71 Cochran, Noted American Duels and Hostile Encounters. p. 256.
72 Seitz, Famous American Duels. p. 32.
73 In one much-discussed incident, William Flanagan, a candidate for the Virginia legislature, was challenged by a man he knocked down during a political argument. Flanagan, who was white, declined the challenge because it came from a black man. Truman, Duelling in America. pp. 29-30.
74 MacNeil, The Forge of Democracy: The House of Representatives. p. 311.
75 Uslaner, The Decline of Comity in Congress. p. 33.
76 Dion, Turning the Legislative Thumbscrews: Minority Rights and Procedural Change in Legislative Politics. p. 274.
77 Chicago Tribune, July 19 2003 p. 12.
78 The Economist, August 16, 2003. p. 27.
79 Carl Schmitt, The Crisis of Parliamentary Democracy, trans. Ellen Kennedy Cambridge: MIT Press, 1985 [1923].
80 James N. McCord, Jr., "Politics and Honor in Early-Nineteenth-Century England: The Duke's Duel," Huntington Library Quarterly 62, no. 1 2000. p. 92.
81 John a. Atkinson, Duelling Pistols Harrisburg: Stackpole, 1964. p. 118.
82 Sabine, Notes on Duels and Duelling. p. 9.
83 After Wellington, the prime minister, pushed the Catholic Emancipation Act through parliament, Lord Winchilsea, “a stout-hearted but none too tactful Protestant,” published a letter impugning his motives. Wellington responded with a challenge. The two exchanged fire, without effect. Winchilsea’s second later claimed that he only agreed to assume that role after his principal promised not to fire at the hero of Waterloo. Atkinson, Duelling Pistols. pp. 119-20.
84 McCord, "Politics and Honor in Early-Nineteenth-Century England: The Duke's Duel." p. 112.
85 Gregor Dallas, At the Heart of a Tiger: Clemenceau and His World 1841-9129 London: Macmillan, 1993. p. 212.
86 Holland, Gentlemen's Blood: A History of Dueling from Swords at Dawn to Pistols at Dusk. p. 232.
87 Theodore Child, "Duelling in Paris," Harper's New Monthly Magazine, March 1887. p. 521.
88 Ibid. p. 522.
89 David Robin Watson, Georges Clemenceau: A Political Biography Plymouth: Eyre Methuen, 1974. p. 135.
Appendix: Incidents of Legislative Violence
On 16 May 1777, Button Gwinnett, member of the Continental Congress (GA) and Declaration of Independence signatory, was fatally wounded in a duel with General Lachlan McIntosh. The former had been a candidate for military command to which the latter was appointed. McIntosh also played a role in the Gwinnett’s defeat in the Georgia gubernatorial election in early May 1777. Gwinnett subsequently criticized McIntosh’s handling of military matters in the Georgia legislature, of which both were ex officio members. McIntosh responded that Gwinnett was "a scoundrel and a lying rascal." When the legislature did nothing to elicit an apology from McIntosh, Gwinnett sent a challenge. The duel was fought with pistols at four paces.
On January 30 1789, after overhearing fellow Representative Matthew Lyon (VT) insult Connecticut’s congressional delegation in a private conversation on the House floor, Roger Griswold (CT) implicitly accused Lyon of cowardice during the Revolutionary War. Lyon then spit in Griswold’s face. After a House committee voted not to expel Lyon, Griswold began beating him with a stout walking stick. Lyon eventually grabbed some fireplace tongs from behind the Speaker’s chair and fought back.
On March 11 1796, Senator James Gunn (GA) issued a challenge to Rep. Abraham Baldwin (GA). The latter was a critic of the Yazoo land scandal, in which the former was implicated. Baldwin reported the challenge to the House, prompting Gunn and his second to submit written apologies to the Speaker.
in 1797, Rep. Thomas Blount (NC) challenged Rep. George Thatcher (MA) after the latter criticized his use of a word derived from French in a resolution proposed to Congress. Thatcher told Blount he would have to check with his wife. After it became clear that Thatcher would not accept the challenge, Blount reportedly said, “I knew you were a coward and would not fight.” To this Thatcher responded, “of course you did, and that is the reason you challenged me.”
in 1802, Senator DeWitt Clinton (NY) and John Swartwout exchanged five shots in New York. In the political conflict between Aaron Burr and Clinton, Swartwout had involved himself on Burr's behalf. In the duel, Swartwout was wounded twice. Clinton eventually left the field, declining either to apologize for his remarks or to fight any more.
In 1803, Representative John Stanley (N.C.) challenged former Representative Richard Spaight to a duel and killed him.
in 1803, Sen. Jonathan Dayton (NJ) challenged Sen. DeWitt Clinton (NY) for remarks made in debate in the Senate. The matter was settled after Clinton wrote a note, subsequently read in the Senate, claiming that he had not questioned the veracity of Dayton's comments.
July 11 1804, Vice President Aaron Burr fatally wounded Alexander Hamilton, leader of the Federalist Party, in a duel in New Jersey. The pair had come close to fighting on at least two occasions previously. Burr recently had suffered defeat in the New York gubernatorial election. Hamilton had tried to mobilize opposition to Burr’s candidacy. After a newspaper published a letter claiming that Hamilton publicly had expressed a “despicable opinion” of Burr, the latter demanded that the former disavow his alleged comments. When Hamilton did not do this to Burr’s satisfaction, partly because it was not clear exactly what he was supposed to disavow, Burr demanded satisfaction on the field of honor.
1804. Senator Jackson (GA) was wounded in a duel with Colonel Watkins.
On March 2, 1808, Rep. Barent Gardenier (NY) and George W. Campbell fought a duel in Bladensburg. Frustrated by Gardenier’s skill at filibustering, Campbell decided “to silence the pesky New Yorker by killing him in a duel. Gardinier was seriously wounded but not silenced. He returned to the House, as talkative as ever.”
In January 1811, after John Randolph (VA) “prevailed upon the House to adjourn,” Willis Alston (NC) called him a “puppy” on the staircase leading from the chamber. Randolph then attacked Alston with his cane.
in 1816, John Randolph (VA) challenged fellow representative Daniel Webster to a duel after being "worsted in debate" by him. However Webster apparently did not accept the validity of the challenge.
In 1817, Rep. William Lewis (VA) fought a duel with General Thomas Cushing. The ball from Lewis’ pistol struck Cushing’s watch, leading the former to exclaim, “I congratulate you, general, on having a watch that will keep time for eternity.”
On 6 February, 1819 Sen. Armistead Mason (Va) was killed in an encounter with John McCartey. "The pair fought with muskets, each carrying a charge of three balls, at the distance of six paces. Mason's death was never formally announced in the Senate and so the affair escaped official recording."
In 1822, a duel was fought between Reps. McDuffie (SC) and Cummings (GA).
On April 8 1826, Secretary of State Henry Clay harmlessly exchanged pistol shots (twice) with Senator John Randolph (Va.) after the latter called him a "blackleg" and implied that Clay had forged documents relating to a congress of countries of the Americas to be held in Panama. For good measure, Randolph also “rebuked Clay’s forbears for having begotten ‘this being so brilliant yet so corrupt, which, like a rotten mackerel in the moonlight, shined and stunk.” After Randolph assured an emissary from Clay that he would not hide behind the Constitutional protection for words spoken in the Senate, a challenge was issued.
September 22 1826, Rep. Sam Houston (TN) seriously wounded William White in a duel. “White was a stand-in for the postmaster of Nashville, whom Houston had offended.”
In 1827, Robert Vance, ex-member of Congress from North Carolina was killed in a duel with Rep. Samuel Carson, the man who defeated him in the 1826 election. Carson issued a challenge as a result of a derogatory remark made by Vance during the campaign.
In 1830, Robert Crittenden (AR) killed General Conway in a duel following a debate in Arkansas. Both were candidates in the upcoming congressional election.
On August 27, 1831, Spencer Pettis, newly elected to Congress from Missouri, challenged Major Thomas Biddle to a duel after an argument that started in the election campaign. As the challenged party, Biddle could pick the circumstances. Being nearsighted, he chose pistols at five feet. Both were killed.
On April 13 1832, Rep. William Stanbery (OH) was attacked by Sam Houston on a Washington street. Two weeks earlier, Stanbery had delivered a speech in the House in which he claimed Houston had fraudulently received a government contract. Houston had tried to “settle” the matter in the House, only to be escorted from the building by friendly congressman. He next tried to send a challenge to Stanbery, who refused to receive his note. So when Houston encountered Stanbery on the street, he began to beat him with a hickory cane. Stanbery, who had armed himself for just such a situation, drew a pistol, pressed it to Houston’s chest, and pulled the trigger. It misfired. “Houston then stood up, landed a few more licks with the cane and, as a finishing touch, lifted the Congressman’s feet in the air and ‘struck him elsewhere,’ as Senator Buckner rendered it in his evidence at Houston’s trial, ladies being present.”
In January 1835, Rep. Henry Wise (VA) fought a duel with Richard Coke, whom he had defeated in a congressional election a few months before. Coke issued a challenge in response to insinuations that he had softened his commitment to nullification in areas of the district where that doctrine was unpopular. “On first fire, Wise shot Coke through the shoulder. Coke survived but never recovered the full use of his arm.”
June 1836, Rep. Jesse Bynum (NC) and Rep. Daniel Jenifer (MD) exchanged six shots without effect at Bladensburg. "Their poor marksmanship became the butt of jokes on the floor of the House." However, their seconds, who also were congressmen, were criticized for permitting “so many shots to be exchanged in a case growing out of language used in debate."
On November 6 1837, Rep. George Dromgoole (VA), a Methodist minister, fatally wounded Daniel Dugger in a duel. The conflict began at a social function held at a hotel owned by Dugger. A guest asked Dugger, who was at the head of the table, “carving a fowl.” A clearly intoxicated Dromgoole loudly exclaimed “Dugger, Damn Dugger as a political mentor! Why he is below infamy and beneath contempt!" Dugger responded by striking Dromgoole in the face "knocking him from his chair and half across the room, and then threw at him the carving fork as he tried to rise." Dromgoole tried to ignore the incident, but political opponents claimed his refusal to fight was a sign of cowardice. With an election approaching, Dromgoole asked Dugger to “publish a card putting the matter in its proper light.” When Dugger opted not to do this, apparently for political motives, Dromgoole sent a challenge. After the duel, Dromgoole won reelection.
in 1837, Rep. Richard Coke (VA) fought a duel with Henry Wise, his opponent in the election.
In 1838, Rep. Abram Maury got into a fight with Rep. William Campbell. “Holding his colleague by the hair with his left hand and striking him blow after blow with his right fist, Campbell beat Maury without mercy behind the Speaker’s chair.”
March 24, 1838. After Rep. Jonathan Cilley (ME) claimed that he had accepted a bribe, newspaper editor James Webb sought the help of Rep. William Graves (KY). Although Cilley claimed immunity for words spoken in debate, Graves challenged him for questioning the gentlemanly status of Webb, his friend. In the ensuing duel, fought with rifles at 80 paces, Cilley was killed on the third shot.
In 1840, Rep. Jesse Bynum attacked colleague Rice Garland with a cane.
On May 30 1840, Reps. Kenneth Rayner (NC) and William Montgomery (NC) engaged in a brawl in a corridor of the House. In debate earlier, Rayner took issue with claims made by Montgomery in defense of the administration. Each subsequently published accounts of their exchange in which the other was portrayed in a negative light. Upon meeting in the corridor, Rayner reportedly slapped Montgomery, who responded by breaking his cane over the former’s shoulder. Rayner then used his own cane, which had a sword concealed in it, to strike Montgomery. “In the process the sword flew out of the cane and went clattering down the hall. The altercation degenerated into a fistfight before bystanders separated the two congressmen.” Rayner subsequently was fined $50 for assault in a DC court. Ironically, he earlier had complained “The scenes of violence and disorder that prevail in our house, are much more fitting a bear-garden [sic], than the legislative Council of a great and (self-styled) free nation.”
In 1843, Rep. Edward Stanly (NC) challenged Rep. Henry Wise (VA) over political disagreements. The two had been friends and political allies until President Tyler vetoed a bank bill and left the Whigs to join the Democrats. Wise and others followed. Stanly's second, John McCarty, despite his reputation as a "fire-eater" based on his duel with Mason, "quickly arranged a peaceful resolution to the challenge."
On January 13, 1845, after engaging in fierce debate in the House over the extension of slavery to Texas, Reps. Thomas Clingman (NC) and William Yancey (AL) decamped to Maryland for a duel. Although police arrived just as the order to fire was given, the principals exchanged shots without effect.
On December 25 1847, an argument about popular sovereignty led to a fistfight between Senators Jefferson Davis and Henry Foote (MS) at their boardinghouse in Washington. Davis suggested that they go elsewhere to settle the dispute with pistols, but Foote demurred. At the urging of friends, they agreed that the matter should be “dropped as a ‘Christmas frolic’ and kept private.” However, two years later, reports that Foote was boasting of striking Davis led the latter to consider a challenge, before friends intervened again.
In February 1850, Sen. Jefferson Davis (MS) challenged Rep. William Bissell (IL) to a duel. In debate it had been claimed that the regiment commanded by Davis had played a decisive part in a battle during the Mexican War. Bissell, who also commanded a regiment during the battle, publicly disputed this claim. The two congressmen agreed to fight a duel with muskets at five poces. However, due to the intervention of President Zachary Taylor, the father of Davis’ late wife, the dispute was resolved peacefully.
April 17, 1850. Sen. Henry Foote (MS) accused Sen. Thomas Benton (MO) of attacking the late Sen. John Calhoun. Earlier, Benton had publicly threatened to harm Foote. So when the burly Benton moved toward the diminutive Foote, the latter pulled out a pistol, which he relinquished after Benton returned to his seat. “Then it was that Mr. Benton broke out again vociferously, exclaiming, ‘Let the assassin shot!’ at the same time theatrically tearing open his vest.”
On February 24 1851, Representatives Samuel Inge (D-Ala.) and Edward Stanly (Whig-N.C.) exchanged “several shots” at eight paces, without effect. Earlier, in debate in the House, Inge had questioned implicitly Stanly’s devotion to the welfare of his region. Stanley responded that Inge had “little sense and less charity in charging me with unfriendliness to the South.” This reportedly was the final encounter between congressmen at the famed Bladensburg dueling ground.
In February, 1852, Sen. Barnwell Rhett (SC) declined a challenge on religious grounds from Sen Jeremiah Clemens (AL). The dispute arose from a speech made by the former on the Senate floor.
March 12, 1852. Reps. Albert Brown (MS) and John Wilcox (MS) trade blows during an argument on the House floor over whose views on state’s rights and secession represented the orthodox position of Mississippi Democrats. “Challenges for a duel were exchanged and seconds chosen, but friends interfered and prevented bloodshed.”
June 1 1853, Sen. William Gwin (CA) and Rep. J. W. McCorkle (CA) exchanged three shots with rifles at 30 paces in California. Neither was injured. McCorkle apparently was upset at “being sidetracked in reaching for patronage favors by the mighty Senator Gwin.”
In March 1854, Rep. Francis Cutting (NY) challenged Rep. John Breckinridge (KY) to a duel. Breckingridge criticized Cutting for using a parliamentary maneuver to try to block passage of the Kansas-Nebraska Act. Cutting responded by claiming that Breckinridge “retreats, and escapes, and skulks” behind a similar bill passed by the senate. Breckinridge replied, “If the gentleman says I skulk, he says what is false, and he knows it.” Having been “given the lie,” Cutting issued a challenge. However, intervention from others, reportedly including President Franklin Pierce, prevented a duel.
On May 22 1856, Rep. Preston Brooks (SC) beat Sen. Charles Sumner (MA) with a cane on the Senate floor as the latter’s colleagues looked on. Earlier, Sumner had claimed that Senator Andrew Butler (SC), Brooks’ uncle, had taken slavery for a mistress. Even more offensive was Sumner’s reference to the “loose expectorations” in the speech of Butler, who had been partially paralyzed by a stroke. Although Sumner’s injuries were so severe that he was unable to return to the Senate for several years, the House could not find the two-thirds majority needed to expel Brooks, whose only punishment was a $300 fine for assault in the District of Columbia.
1856 (?) Rep. Anson Burlingame (MA) denounced Rep. Preston Brooks for the latter’s caning of Sumner. Brooks responded with a challenge. Burlingame agreed to fight a duel with rifles across the border in Canada. Brooks declined, objecting that he would have to go through “hostile territory” to get to the ground.
In February 1858, Rep. Galusha Grow (PA) engaged in a fistfight with Rep. Laurence Keitt (SC) on the floor of the House. The conflict grew out of debate on a bill that would permit slavery in Kansas. After Keitt was knocked down, “[p]artisans of both hastened to join the battling, and immediately the House floor was the scene of rioting. One member picked up a spittoon to brain his enemies.” John Potter (WI) pulled off a colleagues wig. “'Hooray, boys,' Potter shouted above the din. 'I've got his scalp!' That broke up the quarrel in a wave of equally riotous laughter."
On June 11, 1858, after trading insults on the Senate floor, Sen. William Gwin (CA) challenged Sen. Henry Wilson (MA) to a duel. Wilson declined, noting that dueling was illegal.
On September 23 1858, Rep. Sherrard Clemens (VA) was wounded in a duel with O. Jennings Wise, a newspaper editor.
On September 13 1859, Sen. David Broderick (CA) was mortally wounded in a duel with David Terry, who had stepped down as Chief Justice of the California Supreme Court in preparation for the encounter. At a meeting of the pro-slavery wing of the Democratic Party in California, Terry had called the anti-slavery Broderick an arch-traitor and claimed that party members who opposed slavery in California were but the “personal chattels” of the senator. Broderick responded by disavowing his earlier claim that the Terry was the only honest man on the state supreme court. Terry replied with a challenge. Terry was arrested by San Francisco police, but, after securing a change of venue, he was acquitted in a trial.
On April 12 1860, Rep. Roger Pryor (VA) claimed in debate that colleague John Potter (WI) had “doctored” the Congressional Record by adding remarks not made in on the floor. Potter responded that he had made the remarks but that Pryor had caused them to be erased from the Record. Challenged to a duel, Potter demanded to use bowie knives. Pryor’s second refused. When Pryor learned this, he repudiated his second’s decision, but was arrested before he could fight.
In 1866, Rep. Josiah Grinnell (IA) imputed cowardice to Lovell Rousseau (KY), a Union general during the Civil War, during debate in the House. After adjournment, Rousseau attacked Grinnell with a cane in front of three other representatives, who later admitted that they would have sought to prevent anyone from interfering. After the House reprimanded Rousseau, he resigned and was reelected.
On April 13 1898, Rep. Barlett (GA) hurled a copy of The Congressional Record at Rep. Brumm (PA) and then “rushed down the aisle with the evident intention of following up the book with blows of the fist. Before Mr. Bartlett could reach his adversary, he was caught and restrained while an excited mob closed round the two men, and the Speaker sent the mace to bring calm.” In debate over a resolution authorizing the U.S. to intervene in Cuba against Spain, Brumm had denounced a statement by Bartlett as a lie.
February 22, 1902. Sen. Benjamin Tillman (SC) and Sen. John McLaurin (SC) traded punches on the Senate floor after the former accuses the latter of political treachery for secretly working for a treaty with the Philippines that he publicly denounced. As a result of the melee, both senators were censured and, in August, the Senate adopted a rules change (Rule XIX, sec. 2) “to limit the tone and content of senator’s remarks about each other to ensure decorum on the Senate floor.”
Later in 1902, Joseph Bailey (TX) “throttled” fellow Senator Albert Beveridge (IN) after the latter claimed that a statement made by the former in debate was “unwarranted.” Following adjournment, the Texan grabbed his colleague until other senators “finally pried Bailey’s fingers away from Beveridge’s throat.”
On March 2 1904, Missouri Reps. Charles Cochran and Hunt tried to fight each other in the Democratic cloakroom. In discussion of a candidate for governor, Hunt remarked that talk of “grafters” being against the individual should be stopped. Cochran replied, “You can’t make me stop it,” and stood up. Hunt and Cochran began swinging at each other until another Missouri Rep., Champ Clark, “literally lifted Cochran off his feet and carried him out of the room.”
On June 29 1906, Rep. Bartlett (GA) drew a knife on Rep. Southwick (NY) on the floor of the House. In arguing for passage of a resolution increasing the pay of tally clerks, Southwick claimed that their had been a good deal of lying in the committee that had prepared the resolution. He then “made a movement toward” Bartlett. In response, Bartlett pulled out a silver penknife and said that if Southwick dared to say that he lied, Bartlett would cut him. The Sergeant-at-Arms subsequently enforced the Speaker’s order that all members be seated.
On January 10 1907, Rep. John Gaines (TN) tried to engage in a fight with Thaddeus Mahon (PA) on the floor of the House. The conflict began while Gaines was discussing his proposal to dock the pay of members $13.70 for each day absent from their seats. Mahon observed that Gaines should dock his own pay. Gaines replied that Mahon had been “absent 99 per cent of his time, and practically 101 percent.” Mahon responded that what Gaines had said “isn’t true.” Gaines tried to approach Mahon, only to be carried back to his seat “struggling in tempestuous wrath.”
On December 19, 1907, John Williams () punched fellow Democrat David De Armond (MO) on the floor of the House. De Armond and Williams, the Democratic leader, got into a disagreement about whether a colleague had received the committee assignment that the former had requested for him. After Williams said that he had given the man the assignment De Armond requested, the latter called him “a damned liar.” Williams struck De Armond in the nose and De Armond retaliated. A clerk “grabbed Williams around the body, so that his arms were held down, but before any one could hold De Armond he succeeded in pounding Williams several times in the face, finally scratching him under the eye, bringing blood.” Williams “subsequently observed that in Congressional disputes finger nails should be barred.”
May 29, 1908. Sen. Robert La Follette (WI) nearly poisoned in the Senate. To help sustain himself after launching a filibuster, La Follette ordered several glasses of milk and eggs from the Senate restaurant. After taking a sip from one glass, he announced that it is drugged. Chemical analysis later reveals a lethal dose of ptomaine.
On February 23 1911, in debate over the Alaskan Coal Land Leasing Bill, Reps. Frank Mondell (WY) and James Wickersham (AK) disagreed on how much coal land in the territory was unclaimed. Each called the other “liar.” The two rose to fight, but were restrained by colleagues.
On April 1 1926, during impeachment proceedings against Federal Judge George English, Rep. Ogden Mills (NY) and Rep. John Rankin (MS) exchanged “hot words” on the floor, after which “other members intervened to prevent a physical encounter and the Sergeant-at-Arms made his appearance on the floor.”
On February 12 1927, Senator Carter Glass (VA) attempted to fight on the floor with Senator Burton Wheeler (MT) but others intervened. Wheeler claimed that Glass had agreed to support a request to allow him to continue remarks begun the previous day. Glass replied, “You lie.”
Also on February 12 1927, Rep. Strong “attempted to assault” Rep. Tincher, a fellow Kansas Republican, after being called a liar. Both swung ineffectually at each other before being restrained by colleagues.
On February 15 1927, Reps. Sol Bloom (NY) and Thomas Blanton (TX) were the principals in “an exhibition of pugilism” that arose from debate over a bill to close on Sunday all places of amusement in the District of Columbia. When Blanton claimed Bloom’s opposition to the bill was tied to the influence of “New York moving picture interests,” Bloom gave him the lie, declaring “the gentleman from Texas states what is not the truth.” This led to a fracas “approaching the dimensions of a riot…There were two or three other fights in the course of the melee but that between Mr. Bloom and Mr. Blanton was accepted as the headline event of the occasion.”
On March 15 1933, Reps. Clarence Cannon and Milton Romjue, both Democrats from Missouri, reportedly “engaged in an old fashioned fist fight” in the House Office Building. Rep. Ernest Lundeen (MN), who separated the fighters, claimed that Cannon got the better of Romjue. However, Cannon, a former House parliamentarian and the author of texts on procedures and precedents in Congress, denied a fight had taken place. At Romjue’s residence “it was said that the Missourian was confined at home because of an attack of influenza.”
On February 22 1945, Rep. John Rankin (MS) grabbed Rep. Frank Hook (MI) “about the neck with one arm and belabored him about the head with the other.” In debate, after Hook defended the political action committee of a labor organization, Rankin implied that he was a communist sympathizer. Hook responded by calling Rankin a “liar,” precipitating a fight.
On May 29 1945, Rep. Clarence Cannon (MO) punched in the face John Taber (NY), the ranking Republican on the House Appropriations Committee. The two clashed in Cannon’s office after debate on a bill to provide members of Congress with a $2500 annual expense account.
On June 22 1949, Rep. Edward Cox (GA) traded blows with Rep. Adolph Sabath (IL) on the floor of the House. In debate over the National Housing Bill, Cox, 69, a leading opponent of the measure asked Sabath, 83 and the chairman of the Rules Committee, for time to speak during discussion of the rules under which the bill were to be considered. When Sabath refused, Cox accused him of breaking his promise. After each accused the other of prevarication, fists began to fly.
August 4 1950, Rep. H. L. Lanham (GA) called William L. Patterson, Executive Secretary of the Civil Rights Congress, a “black S.O.B” and “attempted to engage him in a fist fight.” Previously, each had claimed that the other had lied in statements about lynching in Georgia. Lanham “broke through the first pair of attendants attempting to restrain him but was finally held back by two Capitol policemen, each holding one arm.”
On June 22 1951, Rep. Clarence Cannon (MO) punched Rep. John Phillips (CA), who “suffered a lip cut which bled profusely but turned out not to be serious.” Phillips got into an argument with Cannon, the chairman of the Appropriations Committee, over an appointment to a conference committee. After Cannon called Phillips a liar, Phillips moved toward him, only to be struck in the face.
July 20 1955, Rep. Cleveland Bailey (WV) knocked down colleague Adam Clayton Powell Jr. (NY) with “a looping right-hand punch.” The dispute grew out of words exchange in a debate over public school segregation in the Education and Labor Committee. Both Bailey, 69, and Powell, 46, subsequently denied that the incident had taken place.
in 1985, Robert Dornan (R-CA) grabbed Thomas Downey (D-NY) "by his tie and accused him and other Democrats of being weak on national defense."
in 1990, Reps. Bob Walker and Craig Washington (D-TX) "had to be restrained from battling over intemperate remarks by Rep. Henry Hyde (R-IL) addressed to Barney Frank (D-MA)."
In 1995, "Mere weeks after a bipartisan civility retreat in the amiable resort of Hershey, Pennsylvania, the House witnessed a physical altercation between Republican Tom Delay of Texas and Democrat David Obey of Wisconsin, during the course of which reference to 'chicken shit tactics' was apparently made."
On July 18 2003, partisan wrangling in the House Ways and Means Committee led Republicans to call the Capitol Police. While vigorously protesting Republican efforts to ram through a bill, Rep. Fortney “Pete” Stark (D-CA), 71, was challenged by Rep. Scott McInnis (R-CO), 50. Stark reportedly responded, “You little wimp. Come on. Come over here and make me. I dare you.” He subsequently called McInnis a “fruitcake.”
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