THE INSULT...
Isabella and Seton danced their quadrille. When Isabella went to
sit down, Seton followed and placed himself next to her. By now, her
husband was moving in. Hawkey asked Isabella if she would take his
arm and walk with him; he wanted to speak with her. She, no doubt
almost quaking at the thought that this gathering storm was about to
break, pleaded tiredness. Hawkey then demanded to sit next to his
wife but Seton wouldn’t move to accommodate him, and after
repeating his request more than once and receiving the same response,
the Marine had had enough. “Sir, I should like to have a few private
words with you.”
“That is what I wish myself,” replied Seton darkly.
There was a smaller room just off the ballroom where those who
wanted to get away from the music and dancing could retire to talk or
play cards. It was either vacant when they entered or, like a saloon in a
Western when two gunslingers square up to each other, quickly
emptied when it became clear that trouble was brewing. The two
antagonists remained in there for just a few intense minutes. Snippets
would emerge later, but never a full account of what was said; Seton
came out first in a state of some agitation and made straight for
Isabella.
“For God’s sake settle this matter,” he pleaded, “or there will be
such an exposure...”
Things came to a head at around midnight when Seton was leaving
the ballroom. Hawkey had strategically positioned himself on a sofa
by the door, and as Seton passed Hawkey kicked out at him, again
calling him a blackguard and a scoundrel, and threatening to
horsewhip him up and down the High Street if Seton wouldn’t fight him.
Others must have heard this, and by the standards of the day this public
humiliation could not be overlooked...
sit down, Seton followed and placed himself next to her. By now, her
husband was moving in. Hawkey asked Isabella if she would take his
arm and walk with him; he wanted to speak with her. She, no doubt
almost quaking at the thought that this gathering storm was about to
break, pleaded tiredness. Hawkey then demanded to sit next to his
wife but Seton wouldn’t move to accommodate him, and after
repeating his request more than once and receiving the same response,
the Marine had had enough. “Sir, I should like to have a few private
words with you.”
“That is what I wish myself,” replied Seton darkly.
There was a smaller room just off the ballroom where those who
wanted to get away from the music and dancing could retire to talk or
play cards. It was either vacant when they entered or, like a saloon in a
Western when two gunslingers square up to each other, quickly
emptied when it became clear that trouble was brewing. The two
antagonists remained in there for just a few intense minutes. Snippets
would emerge later, but never a full account of what was said; Seton
came out first in a state of some agitation and made straight for
Isabella.
“For God’s sake settle this matter,” he pleaded, “or there will be
such an exposure...”
Things came to a head at around midnight when Seton was leaving
the ballroom. Hawkey had strategically positioned himself on a sofa
by the door, and as Seton passed Hawkey kicked out at him, again
calling him a blackguard and a scoundrel, and threatening to
horsewhip him up and down the High Street if Seton wouldn’t fight him.
Others must have heard this, and by the standards of the day this public
humiliation could not be overlooked...
THE MEETING...
…at 5 o’clock last evening the combatants met at Stokes-bay… Lieutenant
Byrom G. Rowles, R.N., acted as second to Mr. Seton; and Lieutenant Edward
L. Pym, of the Royal Marines, was second to Lieutenant Hawkey. The
combatants having arrived, the ground (15 paces) was measured, and the
principals having been placed, the word was given…
The Times, Thursday 22nd May 1845
Byrom G. Rowles, R.N., acted as second to Mr. Seton; and Lieutenant Edward
L. Pym, of the Royal Marines, was second to Lieutenant Hawkey. The
combatants having arrived, the ground (15 paces) was measured, and the
principals having been placed, the word was given…
The Times, Thursday 22nd May 1845
THE AFTERMATH...
John Daniels, a retired Navy carpenter, was strolling in the vicinity
of Browndown that evening. He had heard shots, and at first wondered
whether it had been members of the Preventive Service practicing. A
few minutes later, Private Marsh came upon him on his way to find
help, and shortly after that Daniels saw two men come racing out of a
lane, heading his way. They were both dressed in black coats and
trousers, and they deliberately turned their faces away from him as
they passed; one was carrying something wrapped in a handkerchief...
of Browndown that evening. He had heard shots, and at first wondered
whether it had been members of the Preventive Service practicing. A
few minutes later, Private Marsh came upon him on his way to find
help, and shortly after that Daniels saw two men come racing out of a
lane, heading his way. They were both dressed in black coats and
trousers, and they deliberately turned their faces away from him as
they passed; one was carrying something wrapped in a handkerchief...
THE AFFAIR...
“State to the court,” Hawkey urged him, “whether you have ever
seen any improper conduct between Lieutenant Swain and Mrs
Hawkey, and how often.”
“I have. Once.”
“What took place?”
“I went upstairs a little before October last… I went to the door as
usual. Captain Hawkey always requested me never to knock at his
door… After I went into the room I saw Mr Swain and Mrs Hawkey
on the sofa, and I made a start back and said, ‘Oh! I beg your pardon.’
Mr Swain got up off the sofa, and turned his back to me, and looked at
the Night Scene, a picture hanging up, then he was buttoning his
trousers, and I saw him put his shirt in his trousers as he got off the
sofa. Mrs Hawkey got up, and went to the looking-glass, and
smoothed her hair down with both hands in front. As she got up she
threw her clothes down off her knees, then she asked me to bring up a
jug of water, which I did…”
“What position were they in when you saw them on the sofa?”
“Mrs Hawkey was on her back on the sofa, and Mr Swain was just
rising off the sofa...”
seen any improper conduct between Lieutenant Swain and Mrs
Hawkey, and how often.”
“I have. Once.”
“What took place?”
“I went upstairs a little before October last… I went to the door as
usual. Captain Hawkey always requested me never to knock at his
door… After I went into the room I saw Mr Swain and Mrs Hawkey
on the sofa, and I made a start back and said, ‘Oh! I beg your pardon.’
Mr Swain got up off the sofa, and turned his back to me, and looked at
the Night Scene, a picture hanging up, then he was buttoning his
trousers, and I saw him put his shirt in his trousers as he got off the
sofa. Mrs Hawkey got up, and went to the looking-glass, and
smoothed her hair down with both hands in front. As she got up she
threw her clothes down off her knees, then she asked me to bring up a
jug of water, which I did…”
“What position were they in when you saw them on the sofa?”
“Mrs Hawkey was on her back on the sofa, and Mr Swain was just
rising off the sofa...”
A Matter of Honour is not just about the Last Duel, but also provides a brief history of duelling from the earliest meetings with swords and other weapons:
Memorandum, that on Thursdaie, being the eight of
November, 1610, theire was a meting of the neyghbours, to
warm Mr John Syms his house, the seigne of the Swanne at
High-crosse, among whom came John Nelham and John Whiston, whoe, having some grudge or quarell betwene them,
diner being done, they two did use som private speches
within themselves, taking leave of the companie, went to their
houses, either of them taking his pick stafein their handes,
mette in a felde behinde Mr Edward Barkham’s house,
commonly caulld or known by the name of Baldwin’s; theare
they two fought till John Nelham receyved a wound in his
throtte, fell doone dead, and never spake a word after…