A THRILLING WAR INCIDENT.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume III, Issue 150, 17 March 1876, Page 13

A THRILLING WAR INCIDENT.

[CONFEDERATE SURGEON'S LETTER TO 'CHICAGO TRIBUNE.'] On the 12th day of June, 1863, I witnessed a duel between a Capt. Jones, commanding a Federal scout, and Capt. Fry, commanding a rebel scout, in Greene country, East Tennessee. These two men had been fighting each other for six months, with the fortunes of battle in favor of one and then the other. Their commands were camped on either side of Lick Creek, a large and sluggish stream, too deep to ford and too shallow for a ferry boat; but there a bridge spanned the stream for the convenience of the travelling public. Each of them guarded this bridge, that communication should go neither north nor south, as the railroad track had been broken up months before. After fighting each other for several months, and contesting the point as to which should hold the bridge, they agreed to fight a duel, the conqueror to hold the bridge undisputed for the time being. Jones gave the challenge and Fry accepted. The terms were that they should fight with navy pistols at twenty yards apart, deliberately walking towards each other and faring until the last chamber of their pistols was discharged, unless one or the other fell before the discharges were made. They chose their seconds, and agreed upon a rebel surgeon (as he was the only one in either command) to attend them in case of danger. Jones was certainly a fine-looking fellow, with light hair and blue eyes, five feet ten inches in height, looking every inch the military chieftain. I never saw a man more cool, determined, and heroic under sxich circumstances. I have read of the deeds of chivalry and knight-errantry in the middle ages, and of brave men embalmed in modern poesy ; but when I saw this man Jones come to the duellists' scratch, fighting, not for real or supposed wrongs to hhnself, but, as he honestly thought, for his country and the glory of the flag, I could not help admiring the man, notwithstanding he fought for the freedom of the negro, which I was opposed to. Fry was a man full six feet high, slender, with long, wavy, curling hair, jet black eyes, wearing a slouch hat and grey suit, and looking rather the demon than the man. There was nothing ferocious about him, but he had that self-sufficient nonchalance that said, " I will kill yon." Without a doubt he was brave, cool, and collected, and, although suffering from a terrible flesh wound in his left arm, received a week before, he manifested no symptons of distress, but seemed ready for the fight. The ground was stepped off by the seconds, pistols loaded and exchanged, and the principals brought face to face. I shall never forget that meeting. Jones, in °hia military, boyish mood, as they shook hands, remarked that — A soldier br.ives death for a fanciful wreath, When in glory's romantic career. Fry caught up the rest of the sentence, and answered by saying— Vet he bends o'er the foe when in battle laid low, And bathei e\ cry wound with a tear. They turned around and walked back to the point designated. Jones's second had the word " Fire," and he slowly said, " One — two — three — fire!" They simultaneously turned at the word '• One,,' and instantly fired. Neither was hurt. They cocked their pistols and deliberately walked towards each other, firing as they went. At the fifth shot Jones threw up his right hand, and, firing his pistol in the air, sank down. Fry was in the act of firing his last shot, but, seeing Jones fall, silently lowered his pistol, dropped it to the ground, and sprang to Jones's side, taking his head in his lap as he sat down, and asked him if he was hurt. I discovered that Jones was shot through the stomach, the bullet glancing around that region, and coming out to the left of the spinal column*; besides, he had received three other frightful flesh wounds in other portions of his body. I dressed his wounds and gave him such stimulants as I had. He afterwards got well. Fry received three wounds — one breaking his left arm, one in the leg, and the other in the right side. After months of suffering he got well. Neither of them asked for a discharge, but both resumed their places as soon as they recovered, and they fought the war out to the bitter end, and to-day are partners in a wholesale grocery business down South, doing a good business, and verifying the sentiment of Byron that ' A soldier braves death," etc.