INSTITUTION OF CHIVALRY AND DUELS.
Mistaken views of religion no longer presided over bloodshed, and
priests found that they gradually lost the power of controlling the
unruly by their simple commands; it therefore became necessary that
their influence over those who could support their power by arms should
be of a more permanent and efficacious nature. Youth, upon whose
future courage and energies they could depend, were now enrolled in an
instituted body; and the assumption of arms, so soon as they were able
to wield them, became a solemn religious rite: until they could don
their armour, they were clad in white, like clerical neophytes; and,
as Scott truly observes, “the investiture of chivalry was brought to
resemble, as near as possible, the administration of the sacraments of
the church.”
Still this combination of religious and military zeal was not
considered sufficient to lead a man to risk his life blindly, and the
art and the all-powerful aid of woman were invoked.
Gallantry now presided over deeds of arms; which, to use the words
of Montesquieu, was not love, but its light, delicate, and perpetual
errors.
An ingenious writer, C. Moore, has described the origin of chivalric
laws and customs in the following passage:--“War, and the single
combat, were still the ruling passions of the soul; and whatever
improvement had militated against these favourite and ferocious ideas
would have been treated with the utmost contempt and indignation.
Some, however, whose minds were more enlightened, endeavoured to turn
this torrent of courage and military violence upon itself, and to the
correction of its own abuses. They formed themselves into martial
societies for the relief of injured innocence and distressed virtue;
for the redress of all oppressions and grievances; for the protection
of the weak and defenceless, particularly of the fair sex; for the
correction of abuses, and the general promotion of the public utility
and safety. But, in compliance with the strong prejudices of the times,
all was still to be determined by the sword, and by feats of personal
valour. Such was the introduction of chivalry and knight-errantry.”
For the honour of mankind, desirable indeed would it have been if
chivalry had been carried on upon such philanthropic grounds, however
barbarous might have been the means resorted to in the furtherance
of its ends: it is more probable that it was the result of growing
civilization, with its concomitant pride, pomp, and circumstance. When
love, being associated with religion, shed a halo over the knight’s
proud helm, the spirit of chivalry withdrew its advocates from the
trammels of judicial courts; and, although the hostile meetings of
contending knights, might not have been considered an ordeal to
obtain the judgment of God, the vanity arising from the renown of
personal prowess and superiority in war and in love rendered its
champions regardless of those fine and delicate feelings to which
their institution has been attributed. It is true that, the courtesy
and rising polish of society being added to religious zeal and blind
superstition, this combination tended to soften down the rude relics
of former ferocity, and to combine courage with humanity, introducing
as far as was practicable the courtesies of peace into scenes of
strife; and such we may well imagine may have been the results of such
an institution when woman became associated with all its bearings.
Education became more gentle, and, ere the _accolade_ of knighthood
was conferred, the candidate to the honour had passed through the
gradation of page and squire; first the follower of woman, a blind
adorer and slave, then the attendant on his leader in the chase or the
battle-field.
As civilization progressed, the rude customs of barbarous nations
must have gradually sunk into disrepute; and war, which had once been
a necessity in defence of person and property, now became only an
honourable profession.
While we admit, with Scott, that the tenets of chivalry were exalted
and enthusiastic, we cannot but consider that many acts of exaltation
and enthusiasm, among the most illustrious, were little short of mental
aberration, qualifying the heroic champion for the lunatic asylum,
rather than the courts of sovereigns; and I think that we may consider
many of our modern honourable institutions, which are traced to
chivalry, more as the effect of gradual intellectual improvement than
of the frolics of knight-errantry, however honourable they may have
appeared in theory. No one can pretend to deny that Don Quixote’s ideas
of honour were as correct as they were punctilious.
It is unfortunate that romance has so distorted human actions as to
shed lustre upon deeds which ought to have been veiled in everlasting
obscurity for the honour of mankind. It is owing to these fatal
illusions, that, to the present hour, the chimerical word _Honour_
leads the enthusiast or the slave of society’s prejudiced views to the
commission of criminal acts, and adapts its supposed laws and dictates
to the Procrustean standard of the “world’s” opinion.
Previous to the institution of chivalry, fighting became necessary
for individual protection; but knighthood rendered it a fashionable
accomplishment, and, as real injuries were not likely to occur every
day, artificial grievances were created, and tilts and tournaments
became the constant sports of the day. John, Duke of Bourbon, being
overcome, no doubt, with _ennui_, offered to go over to England with
sixteen knights, to avoid idleness, and further, to merit the good
graces of his mistress; and it is clear that this noble institution,
as it is called, greatly increased duelling instead of checking its
barbarity, while, by rendering it a polite accomplishment, it has
transmitted down to posterity a detestable heir-loom of barbarous times.
Not only were knights obliged to fight their own battles, but they
were bound to espouse the disputes of others, and volunteer fighting
whenever a “good quarrel” could be established.
It is to chivalry, introduced in the train of the Norman conquerors,
that England owed its first degradation. Chivalry deluged Italy in
blood, and rendered Spain a by-word of ferocity and madness. The
desperate pranks of the lunatic Crusaders were the deeds of monomaniacs
let loose by popery: Scott has truly said, that “the genius alike of
the age and of the order tended to render the zeal of the professors
of chivalry fierce, burning, and intolerant.” “If an infidel,” says a
great authority, “impugn the doctrine of the Christian faith before a
churchman, he should reply by argument; but a knight should render no
other reason to the infidel than six inches of his falchion thrust into
his accursed bowels.” The massacre of the Albigenses was one of the
proud results of this noble institution!
Debased by superstition and priestcraft, knighthood became instrumental
to every ambition, clerical or military: the hand of Heaven was seen
guiding every gleaming falchion; the saints were seen hovering over the
battle-field; and Froissart tells us that a black cur, which was always
barking when the infidels approached the Christian camp, was called by
the whole army _the dog of Our Lady_. If such were the public evils
that arose from chivalric institutions, how much more fearful was their
influence in society when we find Francis I, who certainly respected
the faith of engagements as conveniently as expediency could dictate,
laid down as a principle of honour, which prevails to this very day,
_That the lie was never to be put up with without satisfaction, but
by a base-born fellow_! For fear of any possible mistake, lies were
divided into thirty-two categories, with their corresponding degree
of satisfaction. In a succeeding chapter I shall endeavour to show
that most edicts promulgated to check the practice of duelling rather
increased it, and its gradual approach to desuetude can only be
attributed to the influence of reason: until this influence obtains,
all laws will be rendered nugatory by the established code of honour.
Nothing can be more absurd than the regret for the “_glorious days
of Chivalry!_” It is very true, that nothing could be more beautiful
and praiseworthy than the theory on which it was grounded; but a
legislature might just as wisely sit down and embody an Utopian code
of laws as to expect that a soldier will only draw his sword in the
defence of innocence,--it is too absurd a dream to be entertained even
in romance.
The exact origin of chivalry is a matter of doubt. By some historians
it is attributed to Henry I, King of Germany, in 936, called the
“_bird-catcher_,” from his partiality to field pursuits. Others have
traced it to Geoffrey de Preuilly, who died in 1066; but it appears
that he was only celebrated from his having collected and published
the laws of tournaments. History records a chivalric meeting that took
place as early as 858, near Strasburgh, between Charles the Bald, and
his brother, Louis of Germany. In France it was in general practice in
1136; and in Spain and England in 1140.
The rules and regulations in the management of these tournaments were
curious, and showed that the profession of arms was supposed to be
the proof of virtue as well as of courage. By these institutes it was
ordered--
I. Whosoever has done or said anything against the holy Christian faith
shall be excluded; and if any such shall presume to intrude himself, on
the account of his family and ancient nobility, he shall be beaten and
driven back.--_This first article was proposed by the Emperor Henry I.
himself._
II. If any, however nobly descended, have done or said anything against
the _Roman_ empire, or the sacred majesty of the Emperor, he shall not
be admitted, but publicly punished before the assembly.--_This article
was proposed by Conrad, Prince of Palestine._
III. If any have betrayed or deserted his lord and master, or have been
the occasion of any mutiny, disorder, or shameful flight in an army;
or have oppressed and unjustly killed any of his subjects and vassals,
or other innocent person, he shall be publicly punished.--_Duke of
Franconia._
IV. Whosoever has committed violence upon virgins or oppressed widows,
or has violated and defamed any woman by word or deed, when he appears
at the public tournament, shall be disgraced and punished.--_Duke of
Suevia._
V. Whosoever has been guilty of perjury, of forging hand or seal, or
lies under any other infamy, shall be held unworthy of the honour of
a tournament; and, if he enter, he shall not be suffered to go away
without some punishment.--_Duke of Bavaria._
VI. Whosoever has secretly or openly made away with his wife, or has
advised or assisted the killing of his superior, whose vassal he was,
let him be debarred, and let the law of tournament be executed upon him.
VII. Whoever have been guilty of sacrilege, by robbing churches or
detaining what belongs to them, or have wronged widows and children to
whom they were left guardians, shall not be admitted, but punished.
VIII. Whosoever keeps up an unreasonable feud with another, and will
not refer the difference to law or to a fair battle, but invades his
adversary’s land, burning and spoiling it, and carrying off his goods,
especially if he has destroyed corn, which has caused a dearth or a
famine,--if he appear at the tournament, let him be put to death.
IX. Whosoever has been the author of any new _gabel_ or imposition
in any province, city, or other dominion, without the consent of the
Emperor, by which means subjects are oppressed, and trade and commerce
with strangers are hindered and discouraged, let him be punished.
X. Whosoever is guilty of adultery, let him be punished.
XI. Whosoever doth not live suitably upon his lawful rents and income,
but debaseth his dignity by buying and selling, and using mean and
sordid arts to the damage of his neighbours and oppression of his
tenants, let him be beaten.
XII. Whosoever cannot prove his nobility for four generations at least
by both father and mother, shall not have the honour of being admitted
into the tournament.--_The two last articles were proposed by Philip,
the secretary of the Emperor._
These ordinances are a strong illustration of the habits and practices
of the nobles at that period, and present a vivid picture of the times,
when few indeed must have been the champions who could have qualified
for the lists.
Although, on the commencement of these exercises, blunt weapons were
used, fatal accidents were nevertheless very frequent; and it is said
of a Turkish ambassador, who was present at a tournament at the court
of Charles VII, that, on beholding several of the combatants killed and
wounded, he exclaimed, “_If they are in earnest, this is not enough;
but, if it is only in jest, we have had too much of it_.”
It was the frequency of these playful accidents that induced the clergy
to forbid tournaments; as appears in the canons of the council of
Rheims in 1148, by which Christian sepulture is refused to those who
fall on such occasions.
Howbeit, in 1274, our Edward I, on his passage by Chalons, being
challenged by the Count de Chalons, entered into a joust with the
French knights, which was so successful on the part of the English,
that their opponents, infuriated by their inferiority, made a serious
attack upon his retinue; and so much blood was idly shed on the
occasion, that the tournament was ever after called “_the petty battle
of Chalons_.”
In 1209 we find Philip Augustus obliging his sons, Louis and Philip,
to make a vow against entering into any such meetings. In 1385 we find
Francis I. in a tournament between Ardres and Guines; and Henry II. in
1559,--a fatal encounter in which he died from a wound in the eye-ball
received from Montgomery, captain of his guards. This accident took
place on the occasion of the marriage of the King’s eldest daughter
to Philip, King of Spain; in honour of which there were balls,
masquerades, and tilting. His majesty, fancying to enter the lists, had
a lance sent to Montgomery to encounter him: the captain at first very
wisely declined the honour; but, upon the King’s repeated requests,
was reluctantly obliged to comply with his orders. The tilt-yard was
in the Rue St. Antoine, where the captain purposely and politely broke
his lance against his royal master’s breast-plate: unfortunately one
of the splinters flew into his eye, and penetrated the ball; the King
lingered in great agony for a month and died, after having forbidden
all similar exercises.[10]
To form an idea of the ferocity that marked these deadly meetings,
and the absurdity of what were called points of honour, we have only
to recount the particulars of a combat that took place between two
Spanish captains at Ferrara. These two heroes had demanded a “field”
of the Viceroy, Monsieur de Nemours. The Duchess of Ferrara was, of
course, most anxious to be present at the contest; she being, according
to Brantôme, the most beautiful and accomplished lady in Christendom,
both as regarded corporeal and mental qualities, speaking moreover
_force belles langues_: therefore was it, (and very naturally,) that M.
de Nemours was deeply enamoured of her, and wore her colours, (rather
sombre, to be sure,) black and grey. The combatants being engaged, one
of the parties received a desperate wound, which occasioned such a loss
of blood that he sunk on the ground; when his antagonist, according
to the noble institutions of chivalry, rushed on him with the point
of his sword to his throat. The which beholding, the Duchess, who was
as kind as she was courteous, and as beauteous as she was virtuous,
with clasped hands implored M. de Nemours to separate the combatants;
to which he replied, rather uncourteously for a knight, “You cannot
doubt, madam, that there is nothing in the world that I would not do to
convince you of my thorough devotion to your will; but in this instance
I can do nothing, nor offend against the laws of battle, nor can I
honestly and against reason deprive the conqueror of a prize which he
has obtained at the hazard of his life.”
Howbeit, the second of the fallen man stepped forward, and addressing
the conqueror, whose name was Azevedo, declared that, knowing well the
character of his friend, St. Croix, who would rather die a thousand
deaths than admit that he was vanquished, surrendered himself for him,
and avowed himself conquered. Azevedo was perfectly satisfied with
this admission, and left the field in great pomp and glory, with a
flourish of trumpets; while St. Croix’s wounds were dressed, and he
was borne off the ground with his arms, which Azevedo had forgot to
carry away as trophies of the battle: but, upon his being reminded of
the circumstance, he forthwith sent a messenger to demand them. This
request, however, being refused, the case was referred to the decision
of M. de Nemours, who immediately ordered that the arms of St. Croix
should be carried to the conqueror; or that, if he declined to send
them, the dressings of his wounds should be taken off, and he should
be again carried to the field, and laid in the situation in which
he was placed when his second interfered for his life: however, the
second was wise enough to comply with the request. Brantôme observes,
that much might be argued on this matter to decide how far Azevedo
ought to have been satisfied with the second’s submission instead of
the principal’s; as the combat was to have been mortal, the swords and
daggers having been placed in the hands of the combatants by the Prior
of Messina.
A _beau combat_ is recorded of Monsieur de Bayard and another Spaniard,
Don Alonzo de Soto Mayor, who, having been taken prisoner by the
former, insulted him so grossly that he offered him the satisfaction
of a meeting on foot or on horseback. The day being appointed, Bayard
made his appearance, mounted upon a spirited charger and clad in
white, a symbol of humility. The choice of arms having fallen upon the
Spaniard, he preferred a combat on foot, on the plea that he was not
so good a horseman as his adversary, but in reality from his having
heard that the French knight was labouring under an intermittent fever,
which he had experienced for upwards of two years. Bayard, on account
of his indisposition, was strongly urged by his second, Monsieur de
la Palisse, and his friends, to insist upon a mounted combat. To
this he objected, as he did not wish that his opponent should accuse
him of having thrown any difficulties in the way of a fair meeting.
The ground was taken, and marked with several loose stones. Bayard,
having received his arms, prostrated himself on the ground to put up a
fervent prayer, while every one around him joined in the orison upon
their knees; then, rising, he made the sign of the cross, and attacked
his adversary as cheerfully as if he was stepping out in a ball-room
to commence a dance. The Spaniard advanced, and calmly asked him,
“_Señor Bayardo, que me quereys?_” To which he replied, “To defend my
honour;” and forthwith attacked him. The struggle was fiercely kept
up, and great skill displayed on both sides; until Bayard, by a feint,
struck him such a blow in the throat, that, despite his gorget, the
weapon penetrated four fingers deep. The wounded Spaniard grasped his
adversary, and, struggling with him, they both rolled on the ground;
when Bayard, drawing his dagger and thrusting its point in the nostrils
of the Spaniard, exclaimed, “Señor Alonzo, surrender--or you are a
dead man!” a speech which appeared quite useless, as Don Diego de
Guignonnes, his second, exclaimed, “_Señor Bayardo, es muerto; vincido
haveys!_” Bayard, says the chronicler, would have given a hundred
thousand crowns to have spared his life; but, as matters turned out, he
fell upon his knees, kissed the ground three times, and then dragged
his dead enemy out of the camp, saying to the deceased’s second, “Señor
Don Diego, have I done enough?” to which the other piteously replied,
“Too much, Señor, for the honour of Spain!” when Bayard very generously
made him a present of the corpse, although he had a right to do
whatever he thought proper with it; an act highly praised by Brantôme,
who says it is difficult to say which act did him most honour,--the not
having ignominiously dragged the body like the carcase of a dog by a
leg or an arm out of the field, or having condescended to fight while
labouring under an ague; as an ague in those days (sturdy dogs!) was
not considered a sufficient reason to decline a combat.
As fighting became a matter of fashion, and therefore of necessity, it
was impossible to be too punctilious in taking offence. Any subject,
however trivial, was considered sufficient to warrant a combat,
and required blood to wipe off a supposed stain upon a factitious
honour; and, when blood could not be obtained for this vital purpose
by fair means, assassination was not deemed beneath the dignity of
the offended, or incompatible with honour’s laws. Thus we find a
Franche-Comté nobleman running another through the body in the very
porch of a church, while he was presenting him some holy water; and two
other high-born worthies fighting it out before the altar, to decide
who had the best right to a seat of precedence, or the first use of the
censer.
Tilts and tournaments were simply _simulacra_ of actual combats,
training youth to deeds of arms under the flattering auspices of the
fair sex, that they might the more diligently and expertly commit
murder whenever it suited ambition, fanaticism, or love.
What the ladies expected from their champions cannot be better
expressed than in the injunction of the Dame des Belles Cousines to
little Jean de Saintré, a subject which Scott has admirably translated
in the following quaint and appropriate language:--
“The Dame des Belles Cousines, having cast her eyes upon the little
Jean de Saintré, then a page of honour at court, demanded of him
the name of his mistress and his love, on whom his affections were
fixed. The poor boy, thus pressed, replied that the first object of
his love was the lady his mother, and the next his sister Jacqueline.
‘Jouvencel,’ replied the inquisitive dame, who had her own reasons for
not being contented with this simple answer, ‘we do not talk of the
affection due to your mother and sister; I desire to know whom you love
_par amours_.’
“‘In faith, madam,’ said the poor page, to whom the mysteries of
chivalry, as well as of love, were yet unknown, ‘I love no one _par
amours_.’
“‘Ah, false gentleman, and traitor to the laws of chivalry!’ returned
the lady; ‘dare you say that you love no lady? Well may we perceive
your falsehood and craven spirit by such an avowal. Whence were derived
the great valour and the high achievements of Lancelot, of Gawain, of
Tristram, of Giron the Courteous, and of other heroes of the round
table?--whence those of Panthus, and of so many other valiant knights
and squires of this realm, whose names I could enumerate had I
time?--whence the exaltation of many whom I myself have known to rise
to high dignity and renown?--except from their animating desire to
maintain themselves in the grace and favours of their ladies, without
which mainspring to exertion and valour they must have remained unknown
and insignificant. And do you, coward page, now dare to aver that you
have no lady, and desire to have none? Hence, false heart that thou
art!’
“To avoid these bitter reproaches, the simple page named as his lady
and love _par amours_ Matheline De Coucy, a child of ten years old.
The answer of the Dame des Belles Cousines, after she had indulged in
the mirth which his answers prompted, instructed him how to place his
affections more advantageously.
“‘Matheline,’ said the lady, ‘is indeed a pretty girl, and of high
rank, and better lineage than appertains to you. But what good, what
profit, what honour, what advantage, what comfort, what aid, what
counsel for advancing you in the ranks of chivalry, can you derive from
such a choice? Sir, you ought to choose a lady of high and noble blood,
who has the talent and means to counsel and aid you at your need; and
her you ought to serve so truly, and love so loyally, that she must
be compelled to acknowledge the true and honourable affection which
you bear to her. For, believe me, there is no lady, however cruel and
haughty, but through length of faithful service will be brought to
acknowledge and reward loyal affection with some portion of _pity_,
_compassion_, or _mercy_. In this manner you will attain the praise of
a worthy knight; and, till you follow such a course, I would not give
an apple for you or your achievements.’”
The lady then proceeds to lecture the acolyte of chivalry at
considerable length on the seven mortal sins, and the way in which the
true amorous knight may eschew commission of them. Still, however,
the saving grace inculcated in her sermon is fidelity and secrecy in
the service of the mistress whom he should love _par amours_. She
proves, by the aid of quotations from the Scriptures, the fathers of
the church, and the ancient philosophers, that the true and faithful
lover can never fall into the crimes of pride, anger, envy, sloth,
or gluttony. From each of these his true faith is held to warrant
and defend him. Nay, so pure was the nature of the flame which she
recommended, that she maintained it to be inconsistent even with the
seventh sin of chambering and wantonness, to which it might seem too
nearly allied. The least dishonest thought or action was, according to
her doctrine, sufficient to forfeit the chivalrous lover the favours
of his lady. It seems, however, that the greatest part of her charge
concerning incontinence is levelled against such as haunted the
receptacles of open vice; and that she reserved an exception (of which
in the course of the history she made a most liberal use) in favour
of the intercourse which, in all law, honour, and secrecy, might take
place when the favoured and faithful knight had obtained, by long
service, the boon of _mercy_ from the lady whom he loved.
The last encouragement which the Dame des Belles Cousines held out to
Saintré in order to excite his ambition, and induce him to fix his
passion upon a lady of elevated birth, rank, and sentiment, is also
worthy of being quoted; since it shows that it was the prerogative of
chivalry to abrogate the distinctions of rank, and elevate the hopes of
the knight, whose sole patrimony was his arms and his valour, to the
high-born and princely dame before whom he carved as a sewer.
“‘How is it possible for me,’ replied poor little Saintré, after
having heard out the unmercifully long lecture of the Dame des Belles
Cousines, ‘to find a lady, such as you describe, who will accept of my
service, and requite the affection of such a one as I am?’
“‘And why should you not find her?’ answered the lady preceptress. ‘Are
you not gently born? Are you not a fair and proper youth? Have you not
eyes to look on her--ears to hear her--a tongue to plead your cause to
her--hands to serve her--feet to move at her bidding--body and heart
to accomplish loyally her commands?--and, having all these, can you
doubt to adventure yourself in the service of any lady whatsoever?’”
In these extracts is painted the very spirit of chivalry, and the
manners of an age which so many modern ladies seem to regret most
deeply.
As I have already stated, warlike youth had to a certain degree
emancipated themselves from the power of the priesthood, although they
were always prepared and willing to rush into battle at their commands;
but to the honour of the clergy it must be confessed, that although
many individuals of that body might have enjoyed fighting as much as
any testy layman, yet they did exert themselves to temper and modify
as much as lay in their power the ferocity of the times. Whether in
these efforts they were chiefly influenced by motives of humanity, or
by opposition to the rivalry of secular power, it is no easy matter to
decide.
The secular power of the nobles was very great, and to a certain
degree independent of that of the sovereign. President Henault
informs us, that during the first, and a considerable period of
the second race, dukes and counts, in their quality of provincial
governors, administered all regal functions within their jurisdiction,
bestowed all military preferments, and judged by _sovereign judgment_
all appeals of the _centenaries_, or judges nominated by the
monarch,--still, in the name of the King. As at that period there
could exist no other justice but a royal one, these same dukes and
counts, having from the weakness of the government erected their
offices into hereditary rights and patrimonies, continued to preserve
their authority; and all traces of regal power disappeared in the
provinces, with the exception of the government of Hugues Capet as duke
and count, and, when he ascended the throne, his _droit seigneural_ was
added to his _royal authority_.
Before such arbitrary tribunals, when the judges were themselves unruly
soldiers, utterly ignorant of any kind of jurisprudence, and knowing no
other method of deciding a difference than by an appeal to force, the
most expeditious method of deciding a quarrel was to make the litigants
fight it out.
The only check upon the power of feudality was the influence of the
clergy, then divided into _secular_ and _regular_. The secular clerks
officiated in the several sees and parishes, while the regular lived
under monastic institutions and discipline.
_Ecclesia abhorret sanguine_ was an old maxim of the church; and, when
they condemned thousands to the torture or to death, they considered
that they conformed themselves to the letter of this humane precept
while handing their victims over to the _secular arm_ to put their
sentence into execution. Moreover, as the jurisprudence of the
sword interfered with that of the altar, many were the prelates who
powerfully declaimed against duelling and its excesses. Such were
Gregory of Tours, Avitus, and Agobard. Various councils fulminated
their anathemas on the barbarous practice; that of Valence in 855, and
of Limoges in 994, and Trent so late as 1563: while several pontiffs,
amongst whom we find Nicholas I, Alexander III, Celestin III, and
Julius II, excommunicated all sovereigns who permitted duels to take
place within their realms; and we see Charles IX. protesting against
this papal interference, when, in his edict of 1564, he reserved to
himself the power of authorizing duels when he thought it meet.
It is to this interference of the clergy that Europe was indebted for
that pacific act called the _Truce of God_, to which I have already
referred. This ordonnance, called _Treuga Dei_, was promulgated by a
council at Toulujes in Roussillon, in the year 1041, when it gradually
spread over Europe. In this celebrated act it was specified that upon
all festivals, and from Wednesday evening until Monday morning in each
week, no disputes should lead to any issue. This regulation was most
wise, as it gave three entire days in each week to offended persons to
reflect calmly on the nature of their supposed injury, or the benefits
that might result from vindictive proceedings.
It appears, however, that the nobles paid but little attention to the
_Treuga Dei_, or any other truce that tended to check their unruly
passions. A greater diversion from their private feuds soon drew their
attention in another direction; preparing the great moral revolution
that marked the eleventh and the twelfth centuries: I of course allude
to the Crusades, when, in the words of Anna Comnena, the whole of
Europe seemed to have been torn up from its foundations, and ready to
precipitate itself upon Asia. Six millions of enthusiasts, according
to contemporary writers, rushed forward in this holy war; and in 1096,
under the command of Godefroy de Bouillon, an army of about a hundred
thousand, chiefly composed of men sufficiently distinguished in their
several countries by birth and education to cut each other’s throats
with propriety, were patriotic enough to rid their country of their
presence, and were soon after followed to Palestine by another draft of
pugnacious nobility and gentry from various parts of Europe.
Nor can we be surprised at this ardour, when we consider all the
advantages held out to the crusaders both in this world and in the
next. They were exempted from all prosecution for debt, and from the
payment of all interest thereon. They were freed from taxation; they
were taken under the immediate protection of St. Peter; and all who
vexed, perplexed, or impeded them in word, deed, or thought, were
irrevocably damned. They obtained a plenary remission of all sins past
and present, with immunity for future ones; and the gates of heaven
were thrown open to them without any other claims on salvation than
their having engaged in this expedition.
The crusades moreover produced a great revolution in property; many of
these adventurers selling their lands and inheritances at the lowest
prices to equip themselves, while many of the nobles, perishing in the
expedition, left their fiefs without heirs to increase the revenue and
power of the crown.
Thus was this glorious enterprise a fatal blow to feudality; and,
when a few of these adventurers returned to their homes, they were so
reduced by misery and corrected by misfortunes, that their unfortunate
vassals entertained some dawning hopes of better days. These wanderers
had travelled over more civilized parts, and brought back some faint
notions of justice, humanity, and improvement.
Another circumstance in the twelfth century not a little added to the
progress of the human mind in search of amelioration. In 1137, when
the imperial troops were plundering and sacking the town of Amalfi, a
band of ruffians had found in some ruins an old book, the _illuminated_
pictures of which attracted their notice. The Emperor claimed this
curiosity as his prize, having discovered that it was no less than a
copy of the Pandects of Justinian; the which he presented as a valuable
trophy to the city of Pisa, whence its contents were called “_Pandectæ
Pisanæ_,” till, being borne away in turn by the Florentines, it was
afterwards named “_Pandectæ Florentinæ_.”
This accidental discovery produced a new era in Europe: it showed the
barbarians who wielded the brute power of force, that there did exist
other arguments than the sword’s point or the spear-head; and murder,
which had usurped the seat of justice for upwards of six centuries, was
obliged to yield to the influence of reason and interest. Schools of
civil law were now opened, that superseded the exercises of the lists;
and the study of Roman law succeeded the Lombardian code, despite the
endeavour of the clergy to protect their canonical institutions by
fulminating anathemas issued from the Vatican. The clergy of England,
who, like their predecessors the Druids, had engrossed every branch of
learning, lost no time in obtaining a proficiency in all the ancient
oral maxims and customs, called common law, which had been handed down
from former ages. Hence William of Malmsbury, soon after the Conquest
asserted, _Nullus clericus nisi causidicus_. The judges were created
out of the sacred order, and all the inferior offices filled up by the
lower clergy, their successors to this day being called _Clerks_.
Thus we see two events, the crusades and the introduction of civil
law, checking the disastrous excesses of duelling and arbitrating all
differences by the sword. The future was pregnant with two events of
still greater importance towards humanizing Society,--the fall of the
Eastern empire, and the discovery of the art of printing: by the one,
civilization was thrown back on the West; and by the other gift of
Providence man began to learn to think for himself.
We thus perceive the progress of duelling, and its less frequent
occurrence, depending in a great measure upon the state of society and
the nature of government: by following this progress chronologically
in the history of various countries, we shall attain much information,
both as regards the prevalence of this barbarous custom, and the
success of different governments in their endeavours to suppress, or,
at least, restrain its excesses. When, after reading the details of
many of these duels, (some of them of perhaps a tedious nature, but all
tending to illustrate the manners of the age,) we glance on the civil
and religious condition of the people amongst whom they took place,
the deductions from these observations may be found to be of more
importance than may at first sight appear.