Though so thoroughly approving of “bacon and greens,” there was another feature of Virginia life, as well as of Southern life generally, that met with Dr. Bagby’s stern opposition—­the duel.  I once had opportunity to note his earnestness in trying to prevent a meeting of this kind.  Two young men of whom General Pickett was very fond, Page McCarty, a writer for the press and an idol of Richmond society, and a brilliant young lawyer named Mordecai became involved in a quarrel which led to a challenge.  The innocent cause of the dispute was the golden-haired, blue-eyed beauty, Mary Triplett, the belle of Richmond, who had long been the object of Page McCarty’s devotion but had shown a preference for another adorer.  Page wrote some satiric verses which, though no name was given, were known by all Richmond to be leveled at Miss Triplett.  Mr. Mordecai resented the verses and the dispute which followed resulted in a challenge.  Dr. Bagby came to our rooms when Page McCarty was there and made an unavailing effort to secure peace.  Both he and the general were unsuccessful in their pacific attempts, the duel took place and Page McCarty, who bore a name that had in former times become famous in the duelling annals of Virginia, killed his antagonist at first shot.

Though so strongly opposed to the practice, Dr. Bagby twice came near taking a principal part in a duel.  Soon after the close of the war he wrote an editorial on prisoners of war, in which he took the ground that more Southern soldiers died in Northern prisons than Northerners in Southern prisons, giving figures in support of his statement.  A Northern officer in Richmond answered the article, questioning its veracity.  The doctor promptly sent a challenge to combat which the officer declined, saying that he had fought hard enough for the prisoners in war-time, he did not intend to fight for them now that hostilities were over.

The second time that our genial humorist came near the serious reality of a duel he was the party challenged.  The cause of the misunderstanding that promised to result so tragically was a magazine article in which the doctor caricatured a peculiar kind of Virginia Editor.  The essay was a source of amusement to all its readers except one editor, who imagined himself insulted.  Urged on by misguided friends, he challenged the author of the offending paper who, notwithstanding his opposition to the code, accepted.  A meeting was arranged and the belligerents had arrived at historic Bladensburg with blood-thirsty intent, when one of those sunny souls, possessed of a universality of mind which rendered him a friend to all parties, arrived on the scene and a disastrous outcome was averted.

Dr. Bagby has been called “a Virginia realist.”  To him, receiving his first views of life from the foot of the Blue Ridge, one realism of the external world was too beautiful to admit of his finding in the ideal anything that could more nearly meet his fancy-picture of loveliness than the scenes which opened daily before his eyes.  Years later a memory of his early home returns to him in the dawn: