A fatal duel took place the same year between a Mr. Paul and a Mr. Dalton. They had passed the evening together in the company of some ladies, to one of whom Mr. Dalton was on the point of being married. A quarrel arose, and they parted in anger, especially Mr. Paul, who immediately after went to Mr. Dalton’s lodgings, and not finding him at home, sent a message to him at a tavern, where he understood he was spending the evening. Mr. Dalton, upon reading it, hastened home, and in a few minutes after entered the room where Mr. Paul was waiting for him. The servant, soon after hearing a noise like fencing, ran up stairs; but before he could enter the room, heard the street-door shut; the candles were out, and Mr. Paul had fled. He found his master expiring, having a wound in the upper part of his left breast. Upon this occasion the coroner’s jury returned a verdict of wilful murder. Mr. Paul never submitted to his trial, and was outlawed. While personal meetings were then frequent, and often carried on in the most dishonourable manner, general frays were not uncommon. In 1717, after a levee, a large party of gentlemen were assembled at the Royal Chocolate-house, in St. James’s-street. Disputes at hazard produced a quarrel, which became general throughout the room; a _mêlée_ ensued, and as they all fought with swords, three of the party were mortally wounded. The affray was only terminated by the interference of a party of the Guards; who, as entreaties and commands were of no avail, knocked the most pugnacious of the combatants down with the but-end of their muskets. A footman of one of the party (a Colonel Cunningham), who was greatly attached to his master, rushed through the drawn swords; and seizing him round the waist, actually carried him away. In 1720, at twelve at night, about one hundred _gentlemen_ were engaged in a riot in Windmill-street with swords and canes, when several of the party were desperately wounded. The watchmen sought to interfere, but were knocked down and barbarously ill-treated. At last a patrole of Horse Guards came up; and finding the rioters obstinate, rode through them, cutting at them with their swords. Some were killed, and several of them were so desperately wounded that fears of their recovery were entertained. The quarrel had begun between two chairmen. Such was the state of society in London, and of its police, at that period. A week after this outrageous breach of the peace, a Captain Fitzgerald, and three young men, met a lady in the Strand, returning from St. James’s in a sedan-chair. They stopped the chairmen, and brutally attempted to force the lady out. The chairmen opposed them; then they drew their swords, and demolished the vehicle. The watchmen interfered, and one of them was run through the body, and immediately expired.