Almost a Duel by J. J. Healy
Almost a Duel by J. J. Healy
In early days, when Western Montana was known as a geographical portion of Washington Territory, the only places of resort for the frontiersman were the several trading posts of the great fur companies, or perhaps the isolated residences of some hunters and trappers who had concluded to establish themselves a home in the wilderness, and who were always ready to welcome with genuine hospitality members of their calling, or any stranger, (provided he did not wear store clothes), that might come along, to stay for a day or a month; and there was no footing of a bill at the time of departure. When afterwards, private trading outfits invited a share of patronage, they of course, were frequently made a rendezvous, not only for barter but also for recreative purposes.
A store, which was at the same time a saloon also, had its attractions for the rough, buckskin-clad mountaineers and prairie men, in the new feature of setting liquor on the bar with the novel glass tumbler, whereas heretofore, it had been usual to purchase it in quantity and drink it without special relish from a tin cup or the bung of a keg. The strictly American custom of treating, which is invariably introduced with the advent of saloons, brought on here, as elsewhere, its incident quarrels. A word unguardedly spoken, or a joke intended as innocent, neither of which would have excited more than a passing emotion on the trail or in the camp, would often be taken as an insult reflective on reputed bravery or integrity, and result sometimes in a resort to weapons, or in an abiding hostility of feeling.
Bill Hambleton [Hamilton] and David Macdonald had been enstranged (sic) to one another from some cause engendering animosity, the outcroppings of which could be perceived every time they chanced to meet. One day in December, 1861, while Bill was returning in company with some others from Hell Gate to the Sutler’s store on the Big Blackfoot, accident of travel caused him to meet Macdonald traveling with his Indian family in an opposite direction, en route for his home from a trading trip to Beaverhead. The latter was generally deemed a quiet and inoffensive man, and one who would have wended his way without remark; but Bill’s ire inflamed at the sight of him, and a short, passionate recital of grievances was followed by a definite challenge, to fight a mortal combat with the morrow’s earliest dawn. The challenge, couched in language which no men of those days could have unresented, was promptly accepted, and the duel was to be fought on horseback, with Bowie knives and pistols. Macdonald turned and encamped on the Blackfoot for the night, after having chosen Major Graham for his second; while Bill had accepted an army surgeon, (Dr. Hammond), who was well known for his sporting qualities, to assist him.
Bill having now cooled down to business, enjoyed himself till late in the night, when finally he retired for a short rest, but fully equipped and harnessed for a start-off at any moment. Long before daylight the Doctor and Major were on hand to arouse him, and having succeeded in enabling him fully to review the position, they went out to see if Macdonald had taken water or was ready to meet his engagement; but he was there and signified a perfect willingness to fight it out. Hereupon a consultation was held, when it was stipulated between the seconds that the duel should be fought in the orthodox way, on foot and with pistols only. The parties were to be placed back to back, and march off one pace at each count to the tenth, when they should turn and commence firing.
Bill was a little indisposed to this arrangement, thinking it entirely too tame and round-a-bout a way to come to conclusions, and remarked that he would not know the proper time when to turn loose; so it was decided to give him a little training beforehand. The Doctor, placing him with his back to the counter, said; “Now I commence counting to ten, at each count you will take a short step (because the room is small) forward, and when I call off “ten” you will turn and shoot.”
There were several parties in the store by this time and witnessed the process of drilling. With hand upon the holster, Bill obeyed the Doctor’s instructions, until the word “ten” sounded in the air, when with the habitual quick movement of feline, (which has gained him the sobriquet of “Wild Cat Bill”) he turned and fired off his pistol, the ball striking a post not over a half an inch above the head of one of the clerks. Yet Bill was perfectly cool otherwise, and the parties, after taking a drink, started for across the river. Here the ground was selected and the parties about to be placed, when Major Graham felt inclined to avoid bloodshed, and judiciously approaching the enemies, succeeded in reconciling them for the moment, so much so that they forced themselves to shake hands with each other.
The deal was off, yet came very near being renewed a few hours later, when the two accidentally meeting; Bill without a word, drew his knife and pistol and held them out for a choice. Mac. took the knife, but fortunately several persons present recovering from the first shock of surprise, threw themselves upon the two men just in the nick of time, and caused them to separate.
It was only a short time after, that Macdonald ignominiously died at Hell Gate from the effect of a spree. Bill still flourishes somewhere along the Missouri, and is held in high estimation for reckless bravery and excellent qualities as a scout.
The above article appeared in The Fort Benton Weekly on January 23, 1880.
https://www.newspapers.com/image/143748171/
The author, John Healy, was a prominent Montana pioneer. So was William T. Hamilton. Much information is available on the internet about these two. Information regarding David Macdonald, if it exists at all, has never surfaced on the internet, or in Montana newspapers that are accessible on line.