Montgomery County Sentinel

A Pistol With a History,
Cincinnati Enquirer
I was standing, a few evenings ago, on the corner of Lamar and Jackson streets, in this little city, looking vaguely toward the setting sun, and "chinking" two Mexican dollars in my hand, when an acquaintance approached and remarked:
"See here, Jones, is something with a history-a thing which you may have heard of before," and he placed in my hands what thirty years ago was the most noted weapon in all Georgia-a long, rifled, double-sighted dueling pistol. The weapon was single-barreled, with cock under, not above; no guard to protect the triggers, one of which drew the cock back and the other threw it. Upon the market at this day of modern improvements the article would have fetched, perhaps, $1.50, but half a century ago the pair, of which this was the survivor, had sold in London for £25. But let me tell its history as my friend told it to me:
This, you see, has the name of A. Provot, London, on the barrel, and was purchased, with its fellow, fifty years ago, from that manufacturer by one Sir Hugh Cadwalader as the best dueling brace ever manufactured in London. See how fine the steel, how perfect the rifle grooves, and yet how simple the thing is gotten up. Cadwalader, soon after the purchase, had occasion to use them, and did, with effect. A Lieutenant in the Army insulted him at a banquet one evening, and the baronet threw a glass of wine in his face. A challenge followed, and Sir Hugh, being anxious to try his new purchase, chose pistols. They met at sunrise next day, and the Lieutenant fell, pierced through the heart by a bullet from this weapon. Sir Hugh soon after came to this country, and in a difficulty with a Scottish gentleman in Charleston, S. C., used this pistol with fatal effect. Sir Hugh afterward gave the brace to his second in the last-named encounter, a young South Carolinian by the name of Alston, an ancestor of the Colonel Alston killed last year in Atlanta.
It was not long before Alston had occasion to use them. While in Augusta, Georgia, a wealthy young man of that place made some disparaging remark about Alston's political party. A quarrel ensued, and a meeting was the consequence. Alston was badly wounded, but with this pistol he killed his adversary. We next hear of these twin death angels in Florida, whither Alston carried them. He had removed to Texas, but had a brother in Florida who was killed by General Rundo, a rising politician of that State. On learning of the homicide Alston set out for the scene with his trusty brace to avenge his brother's blood. He arrived at night and found Rundo at a banquet. Disguising himself, he gained admittance and "made at" Rundo with a huge knife. Rundo rose and hurled his chair at the intruder. In the melee that occurred Alston dropped his pistol, and quick as thought Rundo seized it and fired straight at Alston's head. The latter threw up his hand to ward off the pistol, and the charge tore away two of his fingers. The combatants were separated, the pistol restored to its owner, and he was taken away. A few days later, as Rundo was walking the streets with a friend, he was suddenly confronted by the immutable Alston, who poured a load of shot into the General's body. Not satisfied, Alston then drew this pistol, and, advancing to where Rundo lay, placed the muzzle to his temple and pulled the trigger. The next moment the brains of the most brilliant young man that ever lived in the State were measured over the sidewalk. Alston "outled" the authorities and left for Texas west free.
Soon after his return to that State he met an enemy, a Dr. Stewart by name, alone on the prairies, and, after a desperate encounter, killed him with one or the other of this brace. Report leans in favor the idea that it was this one. This ended Alston's career, for he was taken from jail by a mob of Stewart's friends and hanged, and the pair of pistols were captured by one of the mob, who soon after killed his brother-in-law with one of them for calling him a horse thief.
A semi-bandit, knowing something of the history of the pistols, bought them for $15 and during the next five years killed no less than four men with them. He was taken by the vigilants and hanged. The pistols then went to a pard of his, and this worthy man kept them several years without it being positively known that he used them to take life. Finally he died at the end of a rope for stealing another rope that had a horse attached to its other end, and the pistols descended to his son, who, leading a wild, reckless life, migrated to the East and located in Alabama. It was not long before he saw in his town a stranger with a considerable sum of money, and the old Murrell taint in his blood prompted him to make an effort to get it. Watching the movements of his prey, he soon found out that the stranger was a Georgian by the name of Brady, who would leave for home that afternoon. That same evening, as the shades of night grew dense, the innocent Brady, pursuing his lonely way, heard the thunder of hoofs behind him. The country was wild and desolate, and the rapidity of the hoof-beats warned him that there was a reckless rider in the rear. He now regretted the exposure of his money in the village, and just had time to open his saddle-bags and get hold of an old "pepper-box" revolver. On came the horseman and bounded into view; a second more and he was alongside; another second and he had with one hand seized Brady's reins, while with the other he leveled one of those pistols at the head of his victim. Quick as thought Brady presented his pistol and fired. The robber's horse-the finest specimen of horse flesh Brady said he ever saw-wheeled, and the rider lost his balance and fell to the ground in a heap. Now was Brady's opportunity, and stooping low he took deliberate aim and fired, and then putting spurs sped ten miles distant to the nearest farm house, to the inmates of which he told his story. The host and his sons returned with him to the spot, where they found the robber dead and the pistol by his side.
Brady brought the pistols to Georgia, and soon afterward got into a difficulty with two men of prominence in one of the middle counties named Allen and Whitsett. The difficulty occurred at the court-house, and Allen attempted to hold Brady while Whitsett flogged him with a cane. Brady, who is a small man, got use of his left hand, and, drawing one of his brace, fired it full in the face of Allen, who, you may judge, released him instanter. Whitsett then ran. Brady wiped the blood from his eyes (he was severely punished about the head and face by Whitsett's stick), and, having his back against the wall of the building, with the other pistol, he took long and deliberate aim at his would-be murderer as he ran. Those who witnessed the scene say that it was thrilling in the extreme. Fifty pairs of eyes were watching the muzzle of the pistol, and the seconds seemed like hours. Whitsett ran for his life, going directly away from his antagonist, who trained his deadly weapon long and carefully upon the running man.
Just as everybody began to believe that Whitsett was beyond the reach of the deadly missile, a short, whip-like report rang out, there was a puff of white smoke, and the doomed man turned a complete somersault, and ere his body was still his soul had flown. Brady, with the pistols, went to Texas, and remained there four years, at the expiration of which time he came back, the brace still being in his possession. Some time after his return he got on a spree, and a sister, fearing that he might do violence, took the absent pistol and threw it in an old well, where it has lain ever since, and where this one would be had the drunken man not secreted it when he saw his sister's design. Brady married, reformed his ways, and for twenty-five years the great Cadwalader dueling pistol lay and rusted in a drawer until a pilfering negro stole it, and for four years its whereabouts were unknown.— Look at the notches cut in the butt-see eleven! Every one of them represents a life taken. Strange that every man that ever owned it should come to a violent death but the last, and he is yet to hear from.