“I have been informed,” Judge Guild wrote, “by a relative of Mrs. Jackson, a gentleman of high character, still living, that she was present, in her carriage, on the track, to witness the race, and when the forfeit was declared, she remarked with an air of pardonable exultation, to some of her friends, that ‘Truxton would have left Ploughboy out of sight.’ This was repeated to Dickinson, who, being somewhat excited by his losses, and probably under the influence of liquor, rejoined, ‘Yes, about as far out of sight as Mrs. Jackson left her first husband when she ran away with the General.’” This was followed by some gentlemen’s gossip about the value of notes put up by Capt. Erwin for the forfeit, and one incrimination led to another until a situation which had but one remedy was created. Jackson, by the repeated insults heaped upon him by the Erwin faction, was forced to challenge Charles Dickinson to a duel. Since the laws of Tennessee prohibited dueling, the meeting was carried across the line into Kentucky, where, on the morning of May 29, 1806, the duel was fought. The results are well known. Dickinson, crack pistol shot of the West, who had left behind him along the road to the meeting place evidences of his expert marksmanship, fired—and the shot entered his adversary’s breast. His opponent fired, but the pistol stopped at half-cock. With superhuman effort he drew himself to full height, folded his coat closer across his breast to hide the wound which he believed fatal, and with cool deliberation took the second fire to which he was entitled. Dickinson’s wound proved fatal and Jackson’s very nearly so, but the bitter enemies who had driven Jackson into the duel were not satisfied—they entered upon a relentless tirade of abuse, and the public, shuddering, turned its sympathy to the young widow of Dickinson. Rachel, in her little log house, wept out her own heartache as she nursed the General back to health—and through it all prayed and wept for the young wife of Charles Dickinson and her unborn babe. (The first edition of the present work referred to the Dickinson child as an “unborn babe”—a statement which had long been accepted by Jackson historians. Charles Dickinson’s will in _Wills and Inventories of Davidson County_, (1807) pp. 141-142, states, however, that “... half of my Estate I give devise & bequeath to my son Henry who is now about Ten weeks old ...”) As time passed the wound healed. Jackson retired to his Hermitage and devoted himself to his business, his farm, and his blooded stock. Truxton, the innocent cause of this tragedy, blossomed under the friendly skies of Tennessee, but neither he nor his master were destined to remain long in retirement. Life stretched out temptingly before them, and it was not long until Truxton was the acknowledged king of the turf, and upon his master’s brow were the laurels won in his defense of New Orleans.