It has often been said and written that the notion of a duel, which is of course linked inextricably to notions of honour, reputation and class status, is deeply set in the Irish folklore and literature of earlier times. So much was this embedded in the later stereotypes of Irish character that the ‘stage Irishman’ of the eighteenth century English drama included the satirical depiction of the duelling temperament. The character of Sir Lucius O’Trigger in Sheridan’s play The Rivals is typical of this. His name suggests his aggressive and volatile nature. That tradition of taking stock characters from Irish life and culture led to distortions and misunderstandings, but nevertheless, the historical record shows that Dublin people in these years had a penchant for settling disputes and matters of ‘good name’ by arranging a duel. The procedure and etiquette involved appealed so much to the general love of display and theatre that in terms of the media and the general civic gossip, at times a duel took its place as just another variety of slightly questionable but respected manly behaviour.

If we are to look for the kind of duel that would be more ordinary and typical, it would be the meeting between Standish O’Grady and Captain Smith in 1830. O’Grady, son of Edward O’Grady, chairman of the county of Waterford, was riding in Dawson Street when he smashed into a cabriolet driven by Captain Smith of the 32nd Regiment. O’Grady hit the officer’s horse in order to free himself from the entanglement and Smith rounded on O’Grady and cracked him repeatedly with his own stick. O’Grady was merely a commissioner of bankrupts: Smith was a soldier, so the confrontation would be dangerous for the civilian generally, but he chased the cab and asked who had insulted him. Smith shouted out his name.

A message was sent by Lieutenant McNamara and they met at six in the morning, when O’Grady was shot, mortally wounded in the groin. Medical attention was given after he had been rushed to Richmond barracks, but he soon died.