Duel turned Melee in old San Antonio

[schlager7]

The "Real Sword" thread here got me to thinking about actual swords and skill sets. Some of you know I'm working on a fencing history of the area that is now the Gulf Coast Division.

When you try to start from the beginning, you have to remember that, in an area of single-shot firearms, pirates and the code duello, fencing was a very pragmatic set of skills.

I came across this story in the course of my research. This started as an odd sort of duel (4 pairs of duellists)and became a melee. It also was among the modest numbers of duels with newspaper coverage to the degree that the movements of the players and their interactions were actually recorded.

The following is an excerpt from my local fencing history, Campeche Steel :

On May 18, 1844 a spectacular duel erupted on the streets of San Antonio. The encounter was between one Terence Corcoran and Corbel de Lominie.

Corcoran had sold his plantation in Tennessee in 1840 and had leisurely made his way into Texas, by way of a yearlong diversion in New Orleans. Most of his time was whiled away on Exchange Alley, the locale of numerous salles d’armes. Already a crack shot, in New Orleans Corcoran decided to avail himself of the services of Pepe Llulla, fencing master. At the end of eight months of instruction, Lulla stated he had nothing more to teach Corcoran.

By 1841 Corcoran had wandered into San Antonio. A man of some leisure, he tended to pass time by visiting shops, taking scotch in the cantinas and shooting dice with the soldiers, or fencing with them.

On May 18, 1844 Corcoran was in the Jabali Cantina. He was drinking scotch and quietly reading a poem of his own composition to his friend Don Jose Salceda. Corbel de Lominie, who was standing nearby, interrupted and asked if Corcoran was as poor a fighter as he was a poet.

Corcoran looked up at the Frenchman and replied, "No. I am at a disadvantage when I pick up the pen; my hands are awkward. They fit nothing but the hilts of swords or the butts of pistols."

De Lominie replied that he had three friends at the inn. He asked if Corcoran could come up with an equal number for his party. Corcoran agreed. They arranged for an encounter at 4 o’clock in the afternoon.

At the appointed hour De Lominie arrived with three men, named Souriau, Pavie and Villemessant. Corcoran arrived with two men named Twigg and McDowell, as well has his friend, Don Jose Salceda. The agreement was for each to face off against an adversary from the other party. They also agreed that, the moment one finished off his counterpart, he was free to jump in and assist any of his comrades. De Lominie faced off against Corcoran. Souriau faced Salceda. Pavie squared off against Twigg. Villemessant opposed McDowell. Then the melee began.

De Lominie fenced with both skill and ferocity. It initially appeared that he might get the better of his foe. In time, however, Corcoran was able to get de Lominie’s measure and found the appropriate parry for each attack.

Salceda, meanwhile, had run Souriau through before two minutes had passed. He then turned to assist Twigg, who was fencing Pavie. Pavie, however, evaded a thrust from Twigg and, at virtually the same time, cut down Salceda. He then turned to face Twigg without missing a beat. Clearly the better swordsman, Pavie soon killed Twigg.

McDowell, meanwhile, had Villemessant hard pressed. Pavie raced to his comrade’s aide. Before he reached the scene, however, McDowell disarmed Villemessant, sending the Frenchman’s sword flying ten paces away. Villemessant and McDowell each raced for the sword. McDowell arrived first, planting his foot on Villemessant’s blade.

By now Pavie had also arrived and thrust his sword at McDowell, who parried it, delivering a riposte and running Pavie through.

Villemessant, deprived of his own sword by McDowell, had used the short time McDowell and Pavie fenced to take the sword from the fallen Souriau. Pavie raced upon McDowell, whose blade was still in Pavie. McDowell was barely able to extricate his weapon in time to face his new foe. Villemessant, however, got into too much of a rush to deliver a quick cut and left his guard open. McDowell took the opening and ran his point into Villemessant's shoulder.

McDowell then turned to aide Corcoran, who was still crossing blades with de Lominie. Corcoran, however, waved him off. In the next moment, Corcoran ran his adversary through.

When the affair was over Cocoran and McDowell suffered nothing more than minor cuts. Salceda and Twigg were dead. On the other side, Souriau suffered a serious wound, but recovered after many months in a hospital. Villemessant was injured, but not badly. Pavie and de Lominie died.

[JEC]

Schlager,
Do you know what type of weapons they used? Rapiers?
Regards,
JEC

[schlager7]

At this point, no. I am trying to find other newspaper accounts in the hopes of gleaning a new detail or two. Over the years I have learned that there would have been a breath-taking variety of the weapons we call swords available to these men. One also has to realize their use of the terminology of the era was very different than our 20th-21st Century bedevilled focus on legalistic and scientific accuracy.

As an example, by the 1840s the term "rapier" could, in fact, very easily refer to an old-style, still-surviving weapon similar to what we envision D'Artagnan wielding... it also might mean one of a newer breed of weapons that you or I might describe as a sharpened epee (usually with a smaller guard than today). A sabre might be called a broadsword or sabre. Broadsword might also refer to a Scottish basket hilt type or even a spadroon from England. (Let me add that virtually ALL of the above might have easily been found in 19th century New Orleans)

It really helps when there is a picture! So far, none.
Of course, if all the answers came quickly and easily, there would be no sport to this!

[Coup de Grace]

This is fascinating. What is particularly interesting is the ease with which one could be thrust in a duel. One moment reading poetry and the next in the middle of a life or death battle. The other insight is the confidence the writer must have with the sword. He writes wth the comfort level that his reader's understand what means to "deliver a parry and riposte. Thanks for sharing this and good luck with the rest of your research.

[schlager7]

Actually, the text is my own. I drew on a couple of newspaper items, one used appropriate terms, another used easily transferable terms (blocking in lieu of parrying, once I believe "parade" was used in its place).

I fence (I'm here, after all) and since my work is a local history of fencing I do not delude myself into believing too many non-fencers will pick it up.