CHAPTER IV.

CELEBRATED JUDICIAL DUELS.

Ancient chronicles have transmitted to us several curious duels that

have taken place, for the purpose of deciding the justice of a cause by

recourse to arms, and maintaining by the sword whatever the lips had

asserted.

The combat that took place in 1371 between Macaire and the dog of

Montargis has been too frequently related and dramatized to need a

repetition. Charles V. was present at the meeting, which took place in

the Isle Notre Dame, in Paris; and Macaire, who was conquered by the

faithful companion of Aubry de Montdidier, was duly hanged. Montfaucon,

in his erudite work, has given an engraving of this event, taken from a

painting preserved in the castle of Montargis.

In 590, Gontran, King of Burgundy, was hunting in the royal forest

of the Vosges, when he found the remains of a stag which had been

killed by some poacher. The game-keeper accused Cherndon the king’s

chamberlain, who, being confronted with his accuser, stoutly denied

the charge. Gontran immediately ordered a combat. A nephew of the

chamberlain was his champion; and in the conflict the game-keeper

received a wound from his lance, which pierced his foot: having fallen

from the severity of the injury, his antagonist rushed upon him to

despatch him, when the prostrate man drew out a knife and ripped up

his antagonist’s belly. The two combatants remained on the field, and

Cherndon endeavoured to seek refuge in the church of St. Marcel; but

Gontran ordered him to be seized and stoned to death.

A curious trial by battle took place in 626. Queen Gundeberge, the

consort of Rharvald King of Lombardy, as much admired for her beauty

and talents as her unimpeachable virtue, had thought it expedient to

drive from her court a certain gossiping slanderous fellow of the name

of Adalulf, who, it appears, had presumed to make some base proposal

to her majesty. Adalulf forthwith, in a fit of revenge, hastened to

the King, and informed him that the sharer of his bed had entered into

a plot to poison him, and to marry the Duke Tason her paramour. The

indignant Rharvald, without further inquiry, banishes the accused from

his presence, and immures her in a castle, although she was nearly

related to the Kings of the Francs. An emissary of Clotaire, however,

indignant at the usage the Queen had received, urged the monarch to

order a judicial contest; and Adalulf was therefore commanded to

prepare himself to meet a cousin of the unfortunate Queen, of the name

of Pithon, who having cut Adalulf’s throat, the innocence of Gundeberge

was made manifest, to the entire satisfaction not only of her royal

husband, but of all the gossips of the court of Burgundy. It was in

consequence of this favourable and satisfactory result, that Grunvalt,

in 668, made some alteration in the laws, by which it was enacted

that ladies placed in a similar situation should enjoy the faculty of

selecting their own champions.

Brantôme relates a case somewhat similar. Ingelgerius, Count of

Gastonois, having been found dead one morning by the side of his wife,

a relation of his, named Gontran, not only accused her of murder,

but of adultery, offering to substantiate the accusation in person.

No one coming forward to defend the afflicted lady, the young Count

of Anjou, Ingelgerius, her godson, to whom she had very kindly given

her husband’s name, presented himself. The youth, who was only in his

sixteenth year, was as anxious to defend his godmother as Cherubino

could have been to defend the Countess Almaviva; and having very

properly and devoutly attended mass, recommended himself to the Divine

protection, distributed alms, and secured himself by carrying with him

the symbol of the cross, he hastened to the lists, where he found his

antagonist prepared to receive him. The countess having duly sworn

both parties, the combatants rushed upon each other. The onset of

Gontran was so fierce that his lance bent in the breast-plate of the

youthful hero, who forthwith, no ways discouraged by the shock, ran his

own through his antagonist’s body: the conqueror nimbly jumped off his

horse, and most dexterously severed the slanderer’s head from his base

body, and laid it at the feet of his sovereign. It is needless to add,

that, the countess’s innocence being thus made manifest, she fondly

embraced her liberator, who, on the following day, was promoted to high

titles and estates.

The rules and regulations were not only frequently drawn out by the

clergy, but ecclesiastics themselves were not always exempted from

liability to a trial by battle. Thus we see in the charter of the abbey

of St. Maur des Fossés, granted by Louis le Gros, that they possessed

_bellandi et certificandi licentiam_.

It is recorded, in the annals of St. Bertin, that the superior

of his abbey in the village of Caumont near Hesdin had to defend

certain rights in the field: the abbot of St. Bertin did not make his

appearance; but two snow-white doves appeared coming from the Saint

himself, and were seen hovering and fluttering over the field. The

champion felt so emboldened by this miracle, that he rushed upon his

antagonist, and substantiated the claim of the abbey by giving an

unmerciful cudgelling to his opponent. In like manner, Geoffroi du

Marne, bishop of Angers, ordered certain of his monks to determine

their right to tithes by a similar process.

The trials or ordeals by fire and water were not always conclusive;

for, in 1103, we find that one Luitprant, a Milanese priest, having

accused his archbishop of simony, offered to make good his charge by

walking through a fire; a feat which he performed to the amazement of

all. However, as the accused was a prelate of distinction, the Pope

absolved him, and very properly banished his impertinent accuser, who

indeed, if strict justice had been done, ought to have been burnt alive

as a wizard.

Our William of Normandy would not allow clerks to fight without due

permission from their diocesan: “_Si clericus duellum sine episcopi

licentiâ susceperit_,” _&c._

We have abundant authority to show that priests were very frequently

expert fencing-masters, and as chaplains of the army were especially

celebrated for their skill.

A singular trial by battle took place at Toledo, in 1085, to decide

whether the Roman or the Muzarabic ritual was to be observed in the

celebration of mass. Two champions were selected. Don Ruiz de Mastanza,

the Muzarabic knight, unhorsed his adversary and killed him. But the

Queen, who had a particular predilection for the trial by fire,

insisted that it should be resorted to: now, as it was contrary to

the laws of chivalry that the conquering knight should be sent to

the stake, a copy of each liturgy was thrown into the fire; when, as

it appears that both of them were consumed, the King decided that in

certain churches and chapels prayers should be put up according to the

Muzarabic ritual, and in others in conformity with the Roman.--The

Muzarabic chapel, a most curious monument, may to this day be seen in

the cathedral of Toledo.

Not only did the clergy order that these judicial battles should take

place, but many instances are on record where they were instituted by

several French parliaments. Under Philip de Valois, the parliament

decreed that two knights, Dubon and Vernon, should endeavour to cut

each other’s throats; the latter having asserted that the former

had bewitched his sovereign. The same learned body ordered a man of

the name of Carrouge to fight another man of the name of Legris, to

prove to the satisfaction of the public that he had committed an

act of violence towards Carrouge’s wife. Carrouge must have been

right, for Legris was killed; though, according to President Henault,

his innocence was afterwards fully substantiated by his accuser’s

confession upon his death-bed. In another instance, a knight, by name

Jean Picart, who was accused of an incestuous intercourse with his

daughter, was directed to fight her husband.

The frequency of these duels induced several monarchs to issue various

edicts. In 1041 was issued one called the _Saviour’s truce_, in which

duels were prohibited from Wednesdays to Mondays, these days having

been consecrated by our Saviour’s passion. In 1167, the King prohibited

all duels upon claims that did not exceed two-pence halfpenny. In 1256,

causes of adultery were to be brought to this issue; while, in 1324,

it was enjoined in cases of rape and poisoning. In 1145, the provost

of Bourges was instructed to call out all persons who did not obey his

orders.

In the reign of Henry II. the celebrated judicial duel (for such it

might be considered) between Jarnac and De La Chasteneraye took place

under very peculiar circumstances, carefully extracted from ancient

chronicles by Cockburn, who gives us the following interesting account,

most descriptive of the brutal manners of those chivalrous days.--“The

persons were the Lords of Chasteneraye and of Jarnac, who were both

neighbours and kinsmen. The first had said to Francis I. that the other

was maintained so plentifully by his mother-in-law, with whom he had

unlawful conversation. The King told this to Jarnac, for whom he had a

great affection. Upon which Jarnac said to the King, that Chasteneraye

had lied to him; but he not only maintaining what he had said, but

adding that Jarnac had divers times owned it to himself, Jarnac did

earnestly supplicate the King that the truth might be tried by combat;

which Francis I. first granted, but afterwards recalled.

“Upon his death, an earnest supplication was made to his successor,

Henry II. who, with the advice of his council, not only allowed, but

appointed it at St. Germain-en-Laye, on the 10th July 1547, when the

King, the whole court, the constable, admiral, and marshals of France

being present, the two parties were brought before the King, attended

by their several friends and trumpets, when each took the usual oaths.

After this they were led to their several pavilions, where they were

dressed for the combat, each having a friend and a confidant in the

other’s pavilion while this was doing. It is said that Jarnac was but

newly recovered of a sickness, and that he whispered to a friend, if

he did not trust to the goodness of his cause, he should fear the

acting of the part of a poltroon. When all the usual preamble of the

ceremonies was over, they were call out by the King’s trumpet, and by

his herald commanded to end their difference by combat. Chasteneraye

was observed to brave it with some insolence; but Jarnac carried it

modestly and humbly.

“Each attacked the other with great vigour; and, after several strokes

and trifling wounds on both sides, while Chasteneraye was making a pass

at Jarnac, he fetched a stroke which cut the ham of Chasteneraye’s

left leg, and presently redoubling his stroke, cut also the ham on the

right:[8] upon which Chasteneraye fell to the ground, and the other ran

up to him, telling him that now his life was at his discretion, yet he

would spare it _if he would restore him his honour, and acknowledge his

offence to God and the King_. Chasteneraye answering nothing, Jarnac

turned to the King, and, kneeling down, prayed _that now he might be so

happy as to be esteemed by him a man of honour; and, seeing his honour

was restored, he would make his majesty a present of the other’s life,

desiring his offence might be pardoned, and never more imputed to him

or his, being the inconsiderate act of youth_:[9] to which the King

made no answer. The former returned to his antagonist, and finding him

still upon the ground, lifted up his face and hands to Heaven, and

said, _Lord, I am not worthy; not to me, but unto thy name be thanks!_

having said this, he prayed Chasteneraye to confess his error: but,

instead of this, the latter raised himself on his knee, and, having a

sword and buckler in his hand, offered a pass at Jarnac, who told him

that if he offered to resist any more he would kill him, and the other

bid him do it; without, however, doing him any harm, Jarnac made a

second humble address to the King to accept of Chasteneraye’s life, to

which the King made no manner of reply.

“Whereupon Jarnac coming back to his antagonist, who was lying

stretched out upon the ground, his sword out of his hand, and his

dagger out of its sheath, he accosted him with the fair words of _old

friend and companion, entreated him to remember his Creator, and to

let them become friends again_. But he attempting to turn himself

without the signs of repentance and submission, Jarnac took away his

sword and dagger, and laid them at the King’s feet, with repeated

supplications to interpose for Chasteneraye’s life; which the King at

last _was advised to do_, and ordered some of the great officers to

go to him, and surgeons to take care of his life; but he would not

suffer his wounds to be dressed, being wearied of life because of his

disgrace, and so died in a little time through the loss of blood. It

being told the King that, according to custom, Jarnac should be carried

in triumph, Jarnac protested against it, saying that he affected no

ostentation or vain-glory, that he had been only desirous to have his

honour restored, and was contented with that; upon which the King

made him this compliment, that he _fought like Cæsar, and spoke like

Aristotle_. Yet the King’s inclinations were towards Chasteneraye.

The poor lady, Jarnac’s mother-in-law, whose honour was at stake too,

was all the while at St. Cloud, fasting and praying, and waiting

impatiently the issue of this purgation of her innocency.”

Chasteneraye was considered the first swordsman in France, and he

certainly did display in this transaction a singular mixture of vanity

and brutality. Brantôme, who was a nephew of Chasteneraye, endeavours

to show that there was foul play in this meeting, and that Jarnac wore

a _brassart_ without joint, by which means the buckler was held with

greater security; at the same time, he states that Chasteneraye’s right

arm was still weak from a wound he had received at Conys, in Piedmont.

Howbeit, this unfortunate young man, who was only in his twenty-eighth

year, was considered such an expert fencer and wrestler, that several

duels were fought when a report of this fatal duel had been spread

abroad, as his partisans would not admit the possibility of his

succumbing before any other combatant: his dexterity in wrestling was

so great, that Jarnac, to avoid the chances of a struggle, had insisted

that both parties should wear two daggers.

By way of retribution, the monarch expressed his royal pleasure that no

further duels should be allowed: indeed, this duel may be considered

the last judicial one that has been recorded in France; although

Charles IX. did authorize a combat between Albert de Luignes, who had

been accused of treasonable practices by Panier, a captain in the

guards. The parties fought in presence of the King and his court, in

the wood of Vincennes: Panier inflicted a severe wound on the head of

his opponent, who fell upon his knee; his seconds ran to his rescue;

but Luignes, recovering himself, gave him a mortal thrust through the

body. Nor was this the only instance where this weak and savage prince

had recourse to the swords of others to rid himself of an enemy; he

employed a famed bravo of the name of Maugerel to fight for him, who

was therefore called _the King’s Killer_; and it is well known that he

instructed Villequen to seek a quarrel with Lignerolles, the favourite

and confidant of the Duke d’Anjou, while they were out hunting, on

which occasion Lignerolles was killed.

While such was the practice in France, and other parts of the continent

of Europe, England was not exempt from similar scenes of cruelty and

superstition, and it was only during the reign of our Henry III. that

the trial by ordeal, or ordaly, was abolished, in 1219: for, although

several historians have doubted the fact, there is great reason to

believe, from the barbarous customs of the times, that Edward the

Confessor did actually compel Emma, the Queen Dowager, to the ordeal

of the heated ploughshares, on the charge of her having participated

in the murder of Alfred, besides having been guilty of a criminal

intercourse with the Bishop of Winchester; the prelate very wisely

refused to submit himself to a similar trial, by producing a letter

written by Pope Stephen VI. to the Archbishop of Mayence in 887, in

which he prohibited such practices.

The personal combat that is said to have taken place between Edmund

Ironside and Canute, near Gloucester, appears to be a fabulous

tradition, although the following account of it has been chronicled:

“Edmund had the advantage of stature and of strength, but Canute

possessed most address and activity. The conflict which took place in

the presence of both their armies, was long and doubtful, until the

Dane, beginning to lose ground, proposed an amicable settlement of

their differences, thus addressing his adversary: ‘Valiant prince, have

we not fought for a sufficient length of time to prove our courage?

Let us therefore show proofs of our moderation; and, since we have

equally shared the sun and the honour of this day, let us quit the

field of battle and share the kingdom.’” This is evidently a fiction

of romance, although there is some reason to believe that a challenge

might have passed between them. We may view with similar hesitation

of belief other no less chivalric relations of that important battle,

in which it is stated that Edwi having cut off the head of one Osmer,

whose countenance bore a strong resemblance to that of Edmund, had it

carried on a spear, calling out to the English that their sovereign was

no more; when Edmund, observing the consternation of his troops, took

off his helmet to prove the error under which they laboured. It appears

more probable that both these princes were compelled to enter into an

amicable treaty by their own nobility and their troops, when Canute

reserved to himself the northern division, and Edmund retained the

sovereignty of the southern provinces.

Doubting the truth of this hostile personal meeting, several writers,

amongst others Selden, maintain that duels were not known in England

until the Norman invasion, when it is recorded that William sent a

message by certain monks to Harold, requiring him either to resign the

kingdom, submit their cause to the arbitration of the Pope, or fight

him in single combat, to which Harold replied, that the God of battles

would soon be the arbiter of their differences.

It has been observed, that, had the practice of duelling on such

occasions been prevalent, the English chief could not, consistently

with the laws of honour as then understood, have refused the challenge.

It is, moreover, certain that at this period single combats were

common in Normandy and other provinces in France; and what renders it

probable that duelling, to ascertain rights maintained by the trial of

combat, was introduced on the Norman accession, was the entrance of a

champion in the ceremonial of the coronation, to this day preserved,

who, casting down the gauntlet of defiance, declares himself ready to

meet any one who dares contest the sovereign’s right to the throne, and

originally to the dukedom of Normandy.

Prior to the Norman conquest we have no record of any duel or trial by

battle, although the Anglo-Saxon laws were framed to prevent private

quarrels and acts of vindictive violence. The law of Alfred enjoined,

that if any one knows that his aggressor, after doing him an injury,

is determined to keep within his own house, or on his own lands, he

shall not fight him till he require compensation for the injury. If he

be strong enough to besiege him in his house, he may do it for seven

days; and, if the aggressor is willing during that time to surrender

himself and his arms, his adversary may detain him thirty days, but is

afterwards obliged to restore him safe to his kindred, and be contented

with the _compensation_; but, if he refuses to deliver up his arms,

it is then lawful to fight him. A slave might fight in his master’s

quarrel; a father might fight in his son’s, with any one except with

his master.

King Edmund, moreover, in the preamble to his laws, alluded to the

multiplicity of private feuds and battles, established various

enactments to check the evil; and regulated certain compensations

for the loss of life, without any distinction between murder and

manslaughter: every head had its price, from the king’s, that was

valued at 30,000 thrimsas, considered to be about 1,300_l._ to that of

a ceorle, or husbandman, 266; in this tariff, an archbishop’s head was

rated at a much higher value than a monarch’s.

The price all wounds and injuries was also regulated: a wound of an

inch long under the hair, one shilling; one of a like size in the face,

two shillings; the loss of an ear, thirty shillings; and, according to

the rare code of Ethelbert, any one who committed adultery with another

man’s wife was obliged to buy him a new one.

This commutation for crimes appears to have been universal in ancient

times. Blackstone informs us that in Ireland, by the _Brehon_ laws, a

murderer was obliged to give the surviving relatives of the slain a

recompense, called Eviach. In Homer we have the same practice during

the Trojan war; Nestor in his speech to Achilles thus addressing him:--

If a brother bleed,

On just atonement we remit the deed:

A sire the slaughter of his son forgives:

The price of blood discharged, the murderer lives.

And again, in the 18th book of the Iliad, in the description of

Achilles’s shield:--

There in the Forum swarms a numerous train,--

The subject of debate, a townsman slain;

One pleads the fine discharged, which one denied,

And bade the public and the law decide.

The most curious part of this law of compensation was the weighing

the value of a witness:--a man whose life was worth one hundred and

twenty shillings counterbalanced six labourers, the life of each being

estimated at twenty shillings; his oath was therefore considered

equivalent to that of all the six.

These laws descended from the Germans, who, with the exception of the

Frisians, sought to check the natural propensity of the people to acts

of bloodthirsty revenge: thus we find, that if any man called another

_pare_, or accused him of having lost his shield in battle, he had

to pay a heavy fine; according to the laws of the Lombards, if a man

called another _arga_, or “good for nothing,” he had a right to demand

immediate satisfaction by arms.

These compensations and fines were called a _fredum_. For the proofs

of guilt, ordeals similar to those described as having existed in

France and other countries on the continent of Europe, were adopted

in England: one of them, which was abolished in France by Louis le

Debonnaire as impious, long prevailed amongst us,--the decision of the

_cross._

The compurgators were to be freemen, and relations or neighbours of

the accused, who upon their oath corroborated what he had asserted.

It appears that in some cases the concurrence of no less than three

hundred of these auxiliary witnesses was required. As men who are

capable of disregarding truth are not deterred by the solemnity of

an oath, this system of compurgation was found to be fraught with

such flagrant iniquity, that appeals to Heaven were considered more

effectual in ascertaining guilt or innocence.

The trials by hot iron and water were similar to those already

described. In addition to these _ordalies_ was the trial by the

consecrated bread and cheese, or _Corsned_, commonly appealed to by

the clergy when they were accused of any crime, and adopted by them,

since it was not attended with danger or inconvenience. This ordeal was

performed in the following manner:--A piece of barley-bread and a piece

of cheese were consecrated; and prayers were then put up, to supplicate

that God would send his angel Gabriel to stop the gullet of the priest,

so that he might not be able to swallow the sacred bread and cheese, if

he were guilty. This ceremony being concluded, the accused approached

the altar, and took up the testing food: if he swallowed freely, he was

declared innocent; if, on the contrary, it stuck in his throat, (which

we may presume was rarely the case,) he was pronounced guilty. Our

historians assert that Godwin Earl of Kent, in the reign of Edward the

Confessor, abjuring the death of the King’s brother, at last appealed

to the Corsned, “_per buccellam deglutiendam abjuravit_,” which stuck

in his throat and killed him.

Whether, in the settlement of feuds, pecuniary compensation was deemed

more satisfactory than the adversary’s blood, it is not an easy matter

to decide; but certain it is, that duels do not appear, until the

period alluded to, to have been as frequent in England as upon the

Continent. Good cheer, and good horses, seem to have been considered

as equivalent to cash: we find in our history a woman giving two

hundred fat hens to the sovereign for permission to spend one night in

prison with her husband, and bringing the monarch one hundreds fowls

on account; while another unlucky wight gave five of his best palfreys

to his sovereign lord the King to induce him to be silent regarding a

_faux pas_ of his wife. But, once established, it appears that trials

by battle prevailed in England for a longer period than in any other

country.

In 1096, William Count d’Eu, having been accused of a conspiracy

against William Rufus by Godefroi Baynard, engaged him in single

combat at Salisbury, in presence of the King and the whole court: the

unfortunate count, having been worsted, was forthwith ordered to be

emasculated, after both his eyes had been put out; his esquire at the

same time whipped, and then hanged. _Jussuque ideò Regis et concilii,

ejiciuntur illi oculi testiculique abscinduntur; dapifero suo Willielmo

de Aldori, filio amitæ ejus, sæviter flagellato et suspenso._

On Henry II.’s invasion of Wales, Henry de Essex, the hereditary

standard-bearer, having been accused of felony by Robert de Montfort,

his own relation, for dropping the standard on the field of battle and

taking to flight, exclaiming that the King was killed, the parties met

in single combat near Reading Abbey, where Essex was left for dead

upon the field. However, upon his body being borne to the abbey, the

monks perceived some traces of life; and, instead of his being hanged

according to custom, the brethren of the monastery recovered him; but,

as he was considered _morally_ dead, he spent the remainder of his days

in their holy cloisters.

From the time of William of Normandy, until that of Henry II, trial

by single combat was the only honourable mode of decision of battle

of right, until the alternative of the grand assizes, or the trial by

jury, was instituted by the latter sovereign.

When the tenant in a writ of right pleaded the general issue, and

offered to decide the cause by the body of a champion, a piece of

ground was selected sixty feet square, inclosed with lists, and on one

side a court was erected for the accommodation of the judges of the

court of Common Pleas, who attended there in their scarlet robes:

a bar was also prepared for the sergeants learned in law. When the

court sat, which was before sun-rising, proclamation was made for both

parties and their champions: the latter were introduced by two knights,

and were dressed in a coat of mail, with red sandals, bare-legged from

the knee downwards, bare-headed, and with arms bare to the elbows.

The weapons allowed them were batons, or staves of an ell long, and a

four-cornered leathern target, so that death very seldom ensued from

these civil combats. In the court military, however, they fought with

sword and lance.

When the champions thus armed arrived within the lists, or place of

combat, the champion of the tenant took his adversary by the hand,

and made oath that the tenement in dispute was not the right of the

demandant; the champion of the demandant of course took a contrary

oath. Another oath was then taken against sorcery and enchantment, in

the following form:

“Hear this, ye justices, that I have neither eaten, drunk, nor have

I upon me either bone, stone, or grass,--no enchantment, sorcery, or

witchcraft, whereby the law of God may be abased, or the law of the

devil exalted; so help me God and his saints!”

The battle then began, and the combatants were bound to fight till the

stars appeared in the evening; and, if the champion of the tenant

could defend himself till the stars appeared, the tenant prevailed in

his cause, and the vanquished was proclaimed a _Craven_: a degradation

of the highest importance; for when a champion had once admitted that

he was “_Craven_,” or one who craves for mercy, he ceased to be a

freeman--_liber et legalis homo_, and, having been proved forsworn, was

no longer eligible as a juryman, or in any manner entitled to belief or

respect.

In appeals of felony, the parties were obliged to fight in their proper

persons, unless the appellant were a woman, a priest, or an infant,--of

the age of sixty, lame, or blind; in either which cases, he or she

counter-pleaded, and threw themselves upon the country. Peers of the

realm could not be challenged to wage battle; nor the citizens of

London, it being specified in their charter that fighting was foreign

to their education and employment.

In regard to trial by battle in civil cases, the mystic appeal to the

judgment of God at this period was abandoned, and the institution of

chivalry gave to personal combats a character totally different.

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