Knife Assault on Alexander H. Stephens

Alexander Hamilton Stephens (1812 – 1883) was a remarkable man. He served as a US Representative from Georgia before and after the Civil War, was vice president of the Confederacy during the War, and served as governor of Georgia from 1882 until his death the following year. Though diminutive in stature, he was universally respected for his intellect and courage. Abraham Lincoln knew and admired him.

One of the remarkable things about the Old South is how often people of the highest social status resorted to physical violence. In 1848, Stephens barely survived a vicious knife attack by a political opponent, Judge Francis Cone. The fight is described in Georgia's Landmarks, Memorials, and Legends, by Lucian Lamar Knight:

Alexander H. Stephens was not an athlete. It is doubtful if the former Confederate Vice-President ever tipped the scales at more than ninety-six pounds, his exact weight in 1843, when he made his maiden speech in the national House of Representatives. Throughout his long career in public life, he presented the typical look of an invalid, wan and emaciated. But Mr. Stephens was an utter stranger to the sense of fear, either moral or physical. He was game to the core, and every ounce of flesh which gripped his spare bones contained as much real pluck as Caesar ever displayed in Gaul. 

On the steps of the old Thompson Hotel, in Atlanta, during the fall of 1848, there occurred an incident which well illustrates the courage of Mr. Stephens. It will also serve to show that he bore a charmed life. At this time he encountered somewhat unexpectedly Judge Francis H. Cone, of Greensboro, with whom he was then on strained terms. Judge Cone had severely criticized Mr. Stephens for something which the latter had either said or done in Congress, and among other choice epithets which the Judge is said to have used was the term "traitor." Difficulties almost immediately ensued. Mr. Stephens probably infuriated Judge Cone by returning his vituperative adjectives, whereupon Judge Cone, delving underneath his broadcloth [coat], whipped out a knife with which he made a leap toward Mr. Stephens. The latter was doubly at a disadvantage, not only because in avoirdupois he was a pigmy beside Judge Cone, but also because he was unarmed, except for an umbrella which shot out from his left elbow. With this somewhat unheroic weapon, Mr. Stephens sought to parry the blow of Judge Cone; but he was soon overpowered by his antagonist and fell bleeding upon the floor.

"Retract!" demanded the irate jurist, who now bent over his prostrate foe.

"Never!" replied Mr. Stephens, the blood gurgling from his wounds, but the proud spirit of the man still unquenched. Again the knife descended, severing an intercostal artery, but Mr. Stephens still refused to retract. He continued to grapple with his adversary, growing momentarily weaker and weaker, until at last rescue came from some of the hotel guests who, hastening to the scene of encounter, separated the belligerents. Though Mr. Stephens received the best medical attention, he lay for weeks hovering between life and death. Finally he arose from his sick bed to renew his campaign for reelection. But he never fully regained the use of his right hand which was frightfully lacerated in the struggle; and his penmanship as well as his person bore the marks of the encounter as long as he lived.

In justice to Judge Cone, who was one of the ablest lawyers in the State and a man much beloved in his social and domestic relations, it may be said that he was completely upset by his violent anger and did not perhaps stop to think of the difference in physical strength between himself and Mr. Stephens. They had once been good friends, in spite of professional tilts and rivalries; and later on in life the cordial relations of earlier years were resumed.

From other reports I have read, I believe Cone's knife was of the dirk style, rather than a bowie. However, the story illustrates how quick gentlemen were to engage in mortal combat in the ante-bellum South. It's hard to imagine any American politician of the last 50 years displaying Stephens' level of physical courage.

Bowie-Knife Fighter: Byron Potter

Byron Potter, 27, had been working as a guard at the Freight Depot of the Michigan Southern Railroad for 14 months when, on April 5, 1857, he became involved in a desperate fight.
   
That evening a woman approached Potter and asked him to direct her to a respectable lodging, and he recommended the Exchange Hotel. There were a number of  “hotel runners” present, men whose job it was to persuade travelers to got to the hotel they worked for, and then take them there with their baggage. Such work was fiercely competitive, and at the time was dominated by Irish immigrants. One of the runners, Morris Geary, who worked for the Limerick House, berated Potter for presuming to direct the woman to a competing hotel, using “the most vulgar and profane language.”
   
As Geary continued his abuse, threatening to knock Potter's brains out, Potter arrested him and started to take him to the watch house. Geary resisted and struck Potter in the face, and a crowd of Irish runners came to his assistance. Jerry Shiner, keeper of the Limerick House and “a notorious rowdy,” seized Potter by the arms as the mob rescued the prisoner.
   
Potter then headed towards the freight house, but had not gotten far when Geary came up to him, grabbed him by the whiskers, and attempted to hit him in the face. At the same time, another runner, Patrick Brown, struck at Potter with a stick, and another, William Galvin, punched him above the eye. Meanwhile, a crowd of runners surrounded Potter, shouting, “Kill him! Kill him!”

The Chicago Daily Tribune reported, “Finding it impossible to beat off his assailants, the officer drew a large heavy bowie knife, and stabbed the three men who were nearest him - inflicting frightful wounds. This prompt and efficient action on the part of the officer so frightened the Irish that they fell back for a moment, enabling Potter to get so far in advance of his assailants that he reached the Exchange Hotel ahead of them. They followed after him, shouting, 'Catch him! Kill him! Cut his heart out!' etc.” 
   
Potter went directly through the hotel and out the back door, and then went to the First District Station House for assistance. The rioters cursed and yelled in front of the hotel for a while, but finding that Potter was gone, they went back to the Limerick House. Accompanied by four or five policemen, Potter went up to the Limerick House to learn the condition of the wounded men and arrest some of the rioters, but the crowd would permit no arrests to be made, and again tried to kill Potter. It was with difficulty that the officers protected him from the crowd.
   
The wounds Potter had inflicted were reported as follows: “Patrick Brown received a stab upon the right side of his body, about three inches in length and two and a half to three inches in depth. This wound was between the false and true ribs, just below the breast bone, the knife wounding the lower lobe of the lung and liver. He died in about three minutes after reaching the house, some five or six minutes after receiving the wound. . . Morris Geary, who commenced the fracas, received a terrible gash just below and a little to the left of the navel, through which his intestines protruded, and also a severe cut upon the wrist which severed the arteries. It is probable he will die. . . . William Galvin is wounded in the right side between the fifth and sixth ribs, the cut being an inch and a half wide by two inches deep. He will probably recover.”  
   
As it happened, Geary as well as Galvin recovered from his wounds. Potter was not charged with Brown's death, as it was determined that he had acted entirely in self-defense.