A DUEL WITH POTATOES

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Oct 8, 1896

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 22, No. 40.

A DUEL WITH POTATOES.

FIFTY years ago the practice of settling "an affair of honor" by means of the duel, was much more common in this country than it is now, or, let us hope, ever will be again. The feeling was even then, however, gaining ground that the practice is both foolish and immoral, and that to stand up with an adversary, pistol or sword in hand, each seeking the other's life, may be one way of testing the marksmanship or physical prowess of the combatants, but no more settles a dispute or vindicates one's "honor" than a foot-race would.

The reaction of public sentiment against the duel was due in large measure to the duel between Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr, and the powerful sermon preached at the former's funeral by Dr. Eliphalet Nott, president of Union College. He denounced dueling as "a crime, the very idea of which almost freezes one with horror." But it is one thing to preach against such a custom, and another thing to make it ridiculous, and the latter was happily done half a century ago by another preacher named Bowman. The story is told by J. Cuthbert Hadden in an English magazine.

Bowman was a strong, muscular man preaching in Kentucky. A well-known desperado, being rebuked by him for repeatedly disturbing the religious services, sent a challenge to the preacher. Bowman accepted, and having, as the person challenged, the choice of weapons, he selected a half bushel of Irish potatoes, and insisted on fighting with these at a distance of fifteen paces. The desperado had to consent to these strange conditions or be posted as a coward.

"The encounter took place on the outskirts of the town. Almost everybody in the place was present to see the fun. The seconds arranged the two men in position, by the side of each being a half-bushel measure filled with large hard Irish potatoes. Bowman threw the first tuber; it struck his opponent, and flew into pieces. A yell of delight went up from the crowd, which flurried the desperado, and his potato flew wide of the mark. Bowman watched his chance, and every time his opponent stooped for a potato, another hit him in the side. The desperado was struck about five times, and then the sixth potato took him in the short ribs, knocking the wind completely out of him, and doubling him up on the grass. The people were almost crazy with laughter, but Bowman looked as sober as if he had just been preaching a funeral sermon. The desperado was taken home and put to bed, and there he stayed for more than a week before he recovered from the effects of his Irish potato duel. That was the end of dueling in the Kentucky region."—The Voice.