CHAPTER VI.

DUELLING IN FRANCE.

France may be considered the classic ground of duelling, the field of

single combat _par excellence_; whence, from the duchy of Normandy, as

we have already seen, it was introduced into the British isles.

If we are indebted to our neighbours for this practice, it is also

to them that we owe the various codes and regulations drawn out to

equalize, as far as possible, the chances of victory, and to prevent

any unfair advantages being obtained to the prejudice of the opposite

party. Of these various documents, possibly the rules given by Brantôme

may be considered the most curious.

In the first instance, he says:--“On no account whatever let an infidel

be brought out as a second or a witness: it is not proper that an

unbeliever should witness the shedding of Christian blood, which would

delight him; and it is moreover abominable that such a wretch should be

allowed such an honourable pastime.

“The combatants must be carefully examined and felt, to ascertain that

they have no particular drugs, witchcraft, or charms about them. It is

allowed to wear on such occasions some relics of Our Lady of Loretto,

and other holy objects; yet it is not clearly decided what is to be

done when both parties have not these relics, as no advantage should be

allowed to one combatant more than to another.

“It is idle to dwell upon courtesies: the man who steps into the field

must have made up his mind to conquer or die, but, above all things,

never to surrender; for the conqueror may treat the vanquished as he

thinks proper,--drag him round the ground, hang him, burn him, keep

him a prisoner, in short, do with him whatever he pleases. The Danes

and Lombards, in this, imitated Achilles, who, after his combat with

Hector, dragged him three times round the walls at the tail of his

triumphant car.

“Every gallant knight must maintain the honour of ladies, whether they

may have forfeited it or not,--if it can be said that a _gentille dame_

can have forfeited her honour by kindness to her servant and her lover.

A soldier may fight his captain, provided he has been two years upon

actual service, and he quits his company.

“If a father accuses a son of any crime that may tend to dishonour

him, the son may demand satisfaction of his father; since he has done

him more injury by dishonouring him, than he had bestowed advantage by

giving him life.”

Notwithstanding Brantôme’s authority, the right of a soldier to call

out his captain has been a questionable point; and La Béraudière,

and Basnage, and Alciat have discussed the point very minutely. The

last author came to the conclusion that such a meeting could only

be tolerated when both parties were off duty,--_post functionem

secus_. The same learned writer maintains that you can only refuse to

fight a bastard; and he therefore strongly recommends all noblemen

to legitimatize their sons, that they may be rendered worthy of the

honour of knighthood and of duelling: and he further declares, that all

challenges from a _roturier_, a mere citizen, or a man in business,

must be considered as null and void.

There is a passage in Brantôme which singularly applies to modern

France, as regards the multiplicity of decorations of honour and their

various button-hole badges; distinctions, which, from the facility with

which they are obtained, he does not consider as qualifying the wearer

to fight a gentleman. “If these people were attended to,” he says, “one

could no longer fight a proper duel: such numbers of them pullulate in

every direction, that we see nothing but knights of St. Michael and of

the Saint Esprit; to such an extent were these orders abused during

our civil wars, to win over and retain followers being no longer the

meed of valour or of merit.”

To tear off a decoration, or even to touch it, was considered an

unpardonable insult; and we have seen in more modern times an example

of the respect to which such attributes of distinction are entitled.

In August 1833, Colonel Gallois, an officer in the service of Poland,

felt himself offended by an article in the _Figaro_, a paper conducted

by Nestor Roqueplan; and, having met him, tore off his riband of the

Legion of Honour. The parties met in the wood of Meudon, when Roqueplan

received three wounds, and Gallois one in the knee: the two seconds of

Gallois at the same time had thrown off their coats, and challenged the

seconds of Roqueplan, who very wisely declined any participation in the

fight; when one of Gallois’s party insisted upon satisfaction from Mr.

Leon Pillet, a friend of Roqueplan, with whom he was on intimate terms,

and, to urge his suit, requested that he might be allowed to take the

badge of the Legion off his coat, to overcome his apparent repugnance;

adding, that he entertained too much friendship and esteem towards him

to offend him in any other manner. There was no refusing so polite a

request.

The colours of a lady, in a knot of ribands worn by her admirer, and

called an _emprise_, were equally sacred; and, when a _brave_ of those

chivalric days was anxious for a combat, he exerted himself to find

some daring desperado who would put his finger on the badge of love.

In Ireland to this day, in many of its wild districts, a pugnacious

ruffian will drag his jacket after him, and fight _unto death_ any

_spalpeen_ who ventures to touch it.

Choice of arms was a matter of great importance in these meetings,

indeed of a vital nature; since, if a weapon was broken in the hands

of one of the parties, he was considered vanquished, and at the

discretion of his conqueror,--such an accident being looked upon as a

decision of Providence: a miss-fire at the present day is considered a

shot, although on a less religious principle. Pistols were introduced

in the reign of Henry II; and, being considered as affording a more

equal chance to both combatants, this arm has been generally selected

in modern duels, more especially in England. On the Continent the

small-sword and the sabre were more frequently resorted to; and we

shall shortly see the regulations regarding their employment, which in

France form a regular code.

Some of the ancient modes of fighting were most singular and whimsical.

Brantôme relates a story of two Corsicans who had fixed short

sharp-pointed daggers in the front of their helmets, being covered

with a suit of mail called a “jacque” over their shirts, although

the weather was remarkably cold; such an arrangement having been

proposed by the offended, who had the right to select and name the

mode of combat, and who was fearful of his antagonist’s renown for his

power and dexterity in wrestling. Both were armed with swords, and

they fought for some time with such equality of skill that neither

was wounded; at length they rushed upon each other, and wrestling

commenced. It was during this struggle that the daggers came into play,

each butting in his antagonist’s face, and neck, and arms, until blood

was streaming in every direction, and in such profusion that they were

separated: one of them only lived a month; in consequence of which the

survivor was well nigh dying of _tristesse_ and _ennui_, as they had

become friends, and expected that they both should have died.[11]

Notwithstanding this valorous disposition, it appears that the choice

of arms and appointments was frequently made a subterfuge to gain time,

or cause much trouble and expense; and Brantôme relates, that, in the

fatal duel between Jarnac and Chasteneraye, the former proposed no

less than thirty different weapons to be used both on horseback and on

foot, and had also specified various horses, Spanish, Turkish, Barbs,

with different kinds of saddles: in consequence of which our chronicler

adds, that if his uncle had not been a man of some independence, and

moreover assisted by his royal master, he could not have maintained the

challenge; and he very truly observed, when receiving it, “This man

wants to fight both my valour and my purse.”

This privilege of the offended to choose their arms and regulate the

nature of the combat, however capriciously, afforded considerable

advantages; since the art of fencing taught many secret tricks, the

knowledge of which gave great reputation to professors. So secret,

indeed, were these instructions, that not only was the pupil solemnly

sworn never to reveal the mysterious practice, but instructions were

given in private, after having examined every part of the room, the

furniture, and the very walls, to ascertain that no third person could

have been concealed to witness the deadly lesson. To this day in France

such cuts and thrusts are called _coups de maître_, and by the lower

classes _coups de malins_.

A curious case is recorded of a knight, who, having been taught

invariably to strike the region of the heart, insisted upon fighting in

a suit of armour, with an opening in each cuirass of the breadth of the

hand over the heart: the result, of course, was immediately fatal to

his antagonist.

The “cunning” of armourers was also frequently resorted to, to obtain

unfair advantages. A skilful workman in Milan had carried his mode of

tempering steel to such a point of perfection, that the solidity of

the sword and dagger depended entirely on the manner in which they

were handled: in the hands of the inexperienced the weapons flew into

shivers; whereas in the grasp of a skilful combatant they were as

trusty as the most approved Toledan blade.

Nor were these valiant knights very particular as to odds. It is

related of two French gentlemen, La Villatte and the Baron de

Salligny, who fought a duel with two Gascons of the name of Malecolom

and Esparezat, that Malecolom having speedily killed his antagonist

Salligny, and perceiving that his companion Esparezat was a long

time despatching Villatte, went to his assistance. When Villatte,

thus unfairly pressed by two antagonists, remonstrated against the

treachery, Malecolom very coolly replied, “I have killed my adversary,

and, if you kill yours, there may be a chance that you may also kill

me; therefore here goes!”

More punctilious, however, were some of these heroes in points of

honour. We read in Brantôme of two Piedmontese officers, intimate

friends, who having gone out to fight, one of the parties received

a wound that was supposed to be mortal; when his opponent, instead

of despatching him, assisted him off the ground, to conduct him to

a surgeon. “Ah!” exclaimed the wounded man, “do not be generous by

halves!--let it not be said that I fell without inflicting a wound: so,

pray wear your arm in a scarf, and say that I hit you ere I succumbed.”

His friend generously acceded to the proposal; and, having smeared a

bandage in his blood, he wrapped it round his arm, publishing abroad

that he had been wounded ere his brave companion received his mortal

thrust. The wound however not proving fatal, an everlasting friendship,

cemented by gratitude, ever after prevailed between them.

Many instances of these singular rencontres and fatal caprices in

deeds of arms will be recorded in the course of this history; all of

which may be referred to the character of the times, and the existing

government’s weakness or tyrannical influence.

In relating the progress of duelling in France during the fifteenth

and the sixteenth centuries, I cannot better characterize the state

of the country than by quoting a late intelligent writer, M. de

Campigneulles:--

“I find between the fifteenth and the sixteenth centuries the same

difference that is observable between the seventeenth and the

eighteenth; neither of these periods being in my opinion in favour of

any progress. Louis XI. will be found preferable to Charles IX; and

Charles VIII. will be placed in a more distinguished rank than Henry

II. Francis I. will not make us forget Louis XII; and the glorious

exploits of the French under Charles VII. will console us for a long

time for the miseries of the civil wars under Henry III. I do not

think it necessary, to justify the second proposition, to draw a

parallel between the reigns of Henry IV. and Louis XIV. on one side,

with the regency and reign of Louis XV. on the other. What is not less

remarkable is, that the first period of a century has frequently been

more worthy of estimation than the second; showing that there is an

action and a reaction in the progress of civilization, and that the

torrent of ages seems to be subject to the same laws that regulate the

waters of the deep.

“Under Charles VII. the aristocracy was too deeply engaged in their

national contest with England to occupy themselves with personal

feuds; the aristocracy, in the enormous sacrifices which this struggle

required, was drained both of men and money. The people gained

nothing,--the royal authority alone reaped any advantage that might

have resulted from this state of affairs; for from this reign we may

date the establishment of standing armies and taxations,--the latter

being imposed illegally, and without the sanction of the states-general.

“The policy of Louis XI.’s government turned to a profitable account

the state of poverty and depression to which the aristocracy had been

reduced. The nobility of France was deteriorated by this cruel prince,

who founded his despotic power upon executions; and the blood which

had been spilled in the field of battle to defend the country, was now

wantonly shed upon the scaffold. There was none left to irrigate a

field of private battle.

“These combined circumstances had struck a fatal blow to duelling; and

the prejudices which had justified the practice, and which at the same

time had advocated the cause of aristocracy, became every day more

weak, attesting the homogeneity of their character.

“France has always been considered as giving the _ton_ to Europe; but

between us and other countries the exchange has not always been to our

advantage, and, for what we may have given to our neighbours of any

value, we have received in return sad equivalents. It is to Germany

that we were first indebted for judicial combats. It was in Italy

that we sought the practice of duelling, which succeeded them; and

while this moral contagion was widely spread during the expeditions of

Charles VII, Louis XII, and Francis I, a sad physical contamination was

transmitted to us through Spain. The practice of duelling had scarcely

crossed the Alps, when it gradually disappeared amongst the Italians;

and the stiletto became a substitute for the sword.

“It is to the reign of Charles VIII. that we must refer these Italian

campaigns, so fatal to our arms and our manners. The ardour of our

youth inspired this monarch with a desire of foreign expeditions.

In 1494 he overran the kingdom of Naples, losing his conquests as

rapidly as he had obtained them. Duelling was then in great vogue over

Italy,--a tradition of the Goths and Lombards, modified, or rather

exaggerated, by the chivalric fancies of the Spaniards.

“A wish to enforce the rights of Valentine on the duchy of Milan

induced Louis XII. to undertake fresh Italian expeditions, although he

had strenuously opposed similar projects on the part of his predecessor

during his latter days. It was during the reign of this monarch, from

1499 to 1515, that incessant duels thinned the ranks of his armies.

They were sanctioned by the Duke de Nemours their leader, and the

illustrious Bayard himself was obliged to yield to the torrent of

fashion.

“The Italian wars continued to be waged under Francis I. He himself,

as we have seen, sent a rodomontade challenge to the Emperor Charles;

and although neither of the parties entertained a serious intention

of putting their boasted threats into execution, yet he had shown

an example which was greedily followed by the most distinguished

personages of the court.”

It was during his reign that pistols were introduced, and became

the fit auxiliaries of the dagger amongst the bandits that infested

the realm; and thus does Abbé Villy describe the condition of the

country--“Our intercourse with the Italians, amongst whom our armies

had lived for more than fifty years, had altered our national character

in many respects. Men became less delicate in their means of glutting

revenge. Assassinations and premeditated murders became each day

more frequent. Already it was not considered sufficient to await an

enemy upon the road, or attack him in his dwelling. It was at the

corner of a street or in an open square, and in the presence of their

fellow-citizens, that public functionaries fell under an assassin’s

blow. Relays of horses were ready to enable the criminal to escape, and

the crime to remain unpunished.”

“Charles IX. was the last French monarch who allowed a duel, and was

present when it took place. He was also the first to prohibit the

practice; and his ordonnance of 1566 in this respect was admirable,

wherein he commanded that all differences should be submitted to the

decision of the constables and marshals of France, more especially in

such cases where the lie had been given.

“Henry III. was the last who appeared in a tournament, with his brother

Charles IX; and he also issued severe orders concerning murderers and

assassins, who, however, from his want of energy, applied with more

audacity and impunity than at any other period, converting the country

into a cut-throat: and if this prince ended by discouraging duels, it

was only when from his affections towards his unworthy favourites he

felt their loss, and, without possessing sufficient energy to avenge

them, their tragic end only gave rise to fresh scandal in the indecency

of his grief. D’Audiguier, the duellist, called him the best prince in

the world; and Brantôme says that he was so good, that he never could

punish rigorously, he so loved his nobility.

“The fever of duelling was not mitigated during the long period of our

religious wars. Civil wars differ widely from those that are carried

on to defend national honour against a foreign enemy. When these break

forth, personal feuds are appeased, and one interest predominates;

our blood is reserved for our country, and duels will cease: but

when in an impious conflict citizens are armed against each other,

every evil passion is unbridled; no law, no check, can restrain them;

everything becomes a weapon; men no longer fight, but kill; and what

the sword may have spared is doomed to the scaffold. Thus did murders

assume every possible form during the convulsions of the sixteenth

century; every instrument of destruction was brought to bear; the

dagger rivalled the sword; and, as we already were indebted to Italy

for duelling, an Italian Queen, one of the Medici, brought in another

gift--assassination.”

The History of Duelling. Vol. 1 (of 2) · 第 6 / 22 章