Shoes, eggs and a duel in Belen, 1898

(La Historia del Rio Abajo is a regular column about Valencia County history written by members of the Valencia County Historical Society since 1998. 

Richard Melzer, Ph.D., is a retired history professor who taught at The University of New Mexico – Valencia campus for more than 35 years. He has served on the board of directors of the Valencia County Historical Society for 30 years; he has severed as the society’s president several times. He has written many books and articles about New Mexico history. 

Opinions expressed in this and all columns of La Historia del Rio Abajo are the author’s alone and not necessarily those of the Valencia County Historical Society or any other group or individual.) 

---

Humans have challenged one another to duels for hundreds of years. Most duels resulted from perceived personal insults considered serious enough to risk one’s life to avenge.  

Fought over bitter political differences, Alexander Hamilton’s death in a duel with Aaron Burr in 1804 is the most famous duel in all of American history.   

While many duels were fought for serious reasons, others were fought over issues that most of us would consider to be trivial at best.  

In one instance, two Englishmen dueled after arguing which man had the most hunting birds on his estate.   

In another case, two women dueled with swords when one accused the other of lying about her age. Neither woman was killed. In fact, the duel ended with the two ladies politely curtsying to one another before going their separate ways.  

Fortunately, Valencia County has been spared many duels in its history. In fact, dueling had been banned in New Mexico when one of the county’s last duels took place in Belen in early 1898.   

We could hope that this duel was fought over a serious matter, essential to a person’s honor and reputation. As we shall see, the opposite was true, with some humorous results.  

The story of a duel in Belen was reported in an Albuquerque newspaper, which claimed to have heard of it from a man who had witnessed the duel while on a hunting trip in Valencia County.   

Given all this second-hand information, we must retell the tale with a large grain of salt, especially in this April Fool’s season.  

With no names given because dueling was illegal, we will call the offended party “Mr. Jones” and the offending party “Mr. Smith.”  

The affront  

The streets of Belen had become particularly muddy about noon on Jan. 29, 1898, when Mr. Jones was preparing to leave work to walk home for lunch.  

To protect his shoes, he had pulled them off and worn a spare pair of rubber boots for the trip home.   

Returning to his workplace after lunch, Jones took off his muddy boots and put his shoes back on, only to find that someone had placed several eggs in them. The result was a “terrible mess, enough to make the most even-tempered man mad as blazes,” according to the Albuquerque Citizen newspaper.  

The “outraged gentleman” vented his wrath by writing the following challenge: “Any fool who thinks himself so smart that he even put eggs in my shoes is hereby challenged to fight with pistols, 5-feet apart.”  

Proving his sincerity, Jones then wrote a note to his wife, saying he left all of his earthly possessions to her as he was “ready to dye (sic) for my honor.”  

Learning that Mr. Smith was the culprit in this “crime,” Jones realized he might have been too hasty in his accusations. We will probably never know if Jones suddenly recalled Smith was a much better shot than him or if he truly cared for Smith and did not want to do him harm over a simple prank.  

In either case, Jones soon wrote an affidavit that was witnessed and signed by six of his “gentlemen friends.” Jones’s affidavit stated that if Smith killed Jones, “my wish is that he (Smith) shall not be prosecuted.”  

The duel  

The next evening, under a moonlit sky, Jones and Smith met on an empty field near John Becker’s flour mill, where Belen City Hall now stands.   

Each man brought his seconds, friends who would help out, especially if things went poorly for a duelist. Six other residents witnessed what happened next.  

Pistols were examined and distributed. Jones and Smith stood back-to-back before each stepped off five paces. They then wheeled around and shot simultaneously. Smith fell, grasping his left side. His seconds carried him off to his room.  

Startled, Jones declared, “My God, have I killed him? I only wanted to shoot him in the legs.”   

Jones told of hearing a bullet whistle past his ear. To show his relief at surviving, he took his friends to a saloon for “liquid refreshments.”  

A happy ending  

Just as Jones and his guests began to celebrate his “excellent marksmanship,” Smith arrived unscathed. It seems that the men’s friends had extracted the bullets from their guns to make sure no one would be hurt over what was only intended to be a practical joke.   

As part of the plan, Smith had faked his injury. The bullet that Jones had heard whizzing by his ear had probably been a figment of his over-excited imagination.  

The Albuquerque Citizen’s informant reported, “Explanations then followed, both principals shook hands and everything is now serene at Belen.”  

So a bloodless duel in Belen ended when it should never have taken place. No dispute is serious enough to resort to violence when more peaceful means are available, be it in 1898 or today.