When the lists were prepared, the countess duly acknowledged her champion,

and the combatants commenced the onset. Gontran rode so fiercely at his

antagonist, and hit him on the shield with such impetuosity, that he lost

his own balance and rolled to the ground. The young count, as Gontran

fell, passed his lance through his body, and then dismounting, cut off his

head, which, Brantôme says, "he presented to the king, who received it

most graciously, and was very joyful, as much so as if any one had made

him a present of a city." The innocence of the countess was then

proclaimed with great rejoicings; and she kissed her godson, and wept over

his neck with joy, in the presence of all the assembly.

When the Earl of Essex was accused, by Robert de Montfort, before King

Henry II., in 1162, of having traitorously suffered the royal standard of

England to fall from his hands in a skirmish with the Welsh at Coleshill,

five years previously, the latter offered to prove the truth of the charge

by single combat. The Earl of Essex accepted the challenge, and the lists

were prepared near Reading. An immense concourse of persons assembled to

witness the battle. Essex at first fought stoutly, but, losing his temper

and self-command, he gave an advantage to his opponent which soon decided

the struggle. He was unhorsed, and so severely wounded, that all present

thought he was dead. At the solicitation of his relatives, the monks of

the Abbey of Reading were allowed to remove the body for interment, and

Montfort was declared the victor. Essex, however, was not dead, but

stunned only, and, under the care of the monks, recovered in a few weeks

from his bodily injuries. The wounds of his mind were not so easily

healed. Though a loyal and brave subject, the whole realm believed him a

traitor and a coward because he had been vanquished. He could not brook to

return to the world deprived of the good opinion of his fellows; he

therefore made himself a monk, and passed the remainder of his days within

the walls of the abbey.

Du Chastelet relates a singular duel that was proposed in Spain.[57] A

Christian gentleman of Seville sent a challenge to a Moorish cavalier,

offering to prove against him, with whatever weapons he might choose, that

the religion of Jesus Christ was holy and divine, and that of Mahomet

impious and damnable. The Spanish prelates did not choose that

Christianity should be compromised within their jurisdiction by the result

of any such combat; the Moorish cavalier might, perchance, have proved to

be the stronger, and they commanded the knight, under pain of

excommunication, to withdraw the challenge.

[57] _Histoire de Messire Bertrand du Guesclin_, liv. i. ch. xix.

The same author relates that, under Otho I., a question arose among

jurisconsults, viz. whether grandchildren, who had lost their father,

should share equally with their uncles in the property of their

grandfather, at the death of the latter. The difficulty of this question

was found so insurmountable, that none of the lawyers of that day could

resolve it. It was at last decreed that it should be decided by single

combat. Two champions were accordingly chosen; one for, and the other

against, the claims of the little ones. After a long struggle, the

champion of the uncles was unhorsed and slain; and it was therefore

decided that the right of the grandchildren was established, and that they

should enjoy the same portion of their grandfather's possessions that

their father would have done had he been alive.

Upon pretexts just as strange, and often more frivolous that these, duels

continued to be fought in most of the countries of Europe during the whole

of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. A memorable instance of the

slightness of the pretext on which a man could be forced to fight a duel

to the death, occurs in the Memoirs of the brave Constable, Du Guesclin.

The advantage he had obtained, in a skirmish before Rennes, against

William Brembre, an English captain, so preyed on the spirits of William

Troussel, the chosen friend and companion of the latter, that nothing

would satisfy him but a mortal combat with the Constable. The Duke of

Lancaster, to whom Troussel applied for permission to fight the great

Frenchman, forbade the battle, as not warranted by the circumstances.

Troussel nevertheless burned with a fierce desire to cross his weapon with

Du Guesclin, and sought every occasion to pick a quarrel with him. Having

so good a will for it, of course he found a way. A relative of his had

been taken prisoner by the Constable, in whose hands he remained till he

was able to pay his ransom. Troussel resolved to make a quarrel out of

this, and despatched a messenger to Du Guesclin, demanding the release of

his prisoner, and offering a bond, at a distant date, for the payment of

the ransom. Du Guesclin, who had received intimation of the hostile

purposes of the Englishman, sent back word that he would not accept his

bond, neither would he release his prisoner until the full amount of his

ransom was paid. As soon as this answer was received, Troussel sent a

challenge to the Constable, demanding reparation for the injury he had

done his honour, by refusing his bond, and offering a mortal combat, to be

fought three strokes with the lance, three with the sword, and three with

the dagger. Du Guesclin, although ill in bed with the ague, accepted the

challenge, and gave notice to the Marshal d'Andreghem, the king's

lieutenant-general in Lower Normandy, that he might fix the day and the

place of combat. The marshal made all necessary arrangements, upon

condition that he who was beaten should pay a hundred florins of gold to

feast the nobles and gentlemen who were witnesses of the encounter.

The Duke of Lancaster was very angry with his captain, and told him that

it would be a shame to his knighthood and his nation if he forced on a

combat with the brave Du Guesclin at a time when he was enfeebled by

disease and stretched on the couch of suffering. Upon these

representations, Troussel, ashamed of himself, sent notice to Du Guesclin

that he was willing to postpone the duel until such time as he should be

perfectly recovered. Du Guesclin replied, that he could not think of

postponing the combat after all the nobility had received notice of it;

that he had sufficient strength left not only to meet, but to conquer such

an opponent as he was; and that if he did not make his appearance in the

lists at the time appointed, he would publish him every where as a man

unworthy to be called a knight, or to wear an honourable sword by his

side. Troussel carried this haughty message to the Duke of Lancaster, who

immediately gave permission for the battle.

On the day appointed, the two combatants appeared in the lists, in the

presence of several thousand spectators. Du Guesclin was attended by the

flower of the French nobility, including the Marshal de Beaumanoir,

Olivier de Mauny, Bertrand de Saint Pern, and the Viscount de la Bellière;

while the Englishman appeared with no more than the customary retinue of

two seconds, two squires, two coutilliers or daggermen, and two

trumpeters. The first onset was unfavourable to the Constable. He received

so heavy a blow on his shield-arm, that he fell forward to the left upon

his horse's neck; and being weakened by his fever, was nearly thrown to

the ground. All his friends thought he could never recover himself, and

began to deplore his ill fortune; but Du Guesclin collected his energies

for a decisive effort, and at the second charge aimed a blow at the

shoulder of his enemy, which felled him to the earth, mortally wounded. He

then sprang from his horse, sword in hand, with the intention of cutting

off the head of his fallen foe, when the Marshal d'Andreghem threw a

golden wand into the arena as a signal that hostilities should cease. Du

Guesclin was proclaimed the victor amid the joyous acclamations of the

crowd, and retiring, left the field to the meaner combatants, who were

afterwards to make sport for the people. Four English and as many French

squires fought for some time with pointless lances, when the French

gaining the advantage, the sports were declared at an end.

In the time of Charles VI., about the beginning of the fifteenth century,

a famous duel was ordered by the parliament of Paris. The Sieur de

Carrouges being absent in the Holy Land, his lady was violated by the

Sieur Legris. Carrouges, on his return, challenged Legris to mortal combat

for the twofold crime of violation and slander, inasmuch as he had denied

his guilt by asserting that the lady was a willing party. The lady's

asseverations of innocence were held to be no evidence by the parliament,

and the duel was commanded, with all the ceremonies. "On the day

appointed," says Brantôme,[58] "the lady came to witness the spectacle in

her chariot; but the king made her descend, judging her unworthy, because

she was criminal in his eyes till her innocence was proved, and caused her

to stand upon a scaffold to await the mercy of God and this judgment by

the battle. After a short struggle, the Sieur de Carrouges overthrew his

enemy, and made him confess both the rape and the slander. He was then

taken to the gallows and hanged in the presence of the multitude; while

the innocence of the lady was proclaimed by the heralds, and recognised by

her husband, the king, and all the spectators."

[58] _Mémoires de Brantôme touchant les Duels_.

Numerous battles of a similar description constantly took place, until the

unfortunate issue of one encounter of the kind led the French king, Henry

II., to declare solemnly that he would never again permit any such

encounter, whether it related to a civil or criminal case, or the honour

of a gentleman.

This memorable combat was fought in the year 1547. François de Vivonne,

lord of La Chataigneraie, and Guy de Chabot, lord of Jarnac, had been

friends from their early youth, and were noted at the court of Francis I.

for the gallantry of their bearing and the magnificence of their retinue.

Chataigneraie, who knew that his friend's means were not very ample, asked

him one day in confidence how it was that he contrived to be so well

provided? Jarnac replied, that his father had married a young and

beautiful woman, who, loving the son far better than the sire, supplied

him with as much money as he desired. La Chataigneraie betrayed the base

secret to the dauphin, the dauphin to the king, the king to his courtiers,

and the courtiers to all their acquaintance. In a short time it reached

the ears of the old Lord de Jarnac, who immediately sent for his son, and

demanded to know in what manner the report had originated, and whether he

had been vile enough not only to carry on such a connexion, but to boast

of it? De Jarnac indignantly denied that he had ever said so, or given

reason to the world to say so, and requested his father to accompany him

to court and confront him with his accuser, that he might see the manner

in which he would confound him. They went accordingly; and the younger De

Jarnac, entering a room where the dauphin, La Chataigneraie, and several

courtiers were present, exclaimed aloud, "That whoever had asserted that

he maintained a criminal connexion with his mother-in-law was a liar and a

coward!" Every eye was turned to the dauphin and La Chataigneraie, when

the latter stood forward and asserted, that De Jarnac had himself avowed

that such was the fact, and he would extort from his lips another

confession of it. A case like this could not be met or rebutted by any

legal proof, and the royal council ordered that it should be decided by

single combat. The king, however, set his face against the duel,[59] and

forbade them both, under pain of his high displeasure, to proceed any

further in the matter. But Francis died in the following year, and the

dauphin, now Henry II., who was himself compromised, resolved that the

combat should take place.

[59] Although Francis shewed himself in this case an enemy to

duelling, yet in his own case he had not the same objection.

Every reader of history must remember his answer to the

challenge of the Emperor Charles V. The Emperor wrote that he

had failed in his word, and that he would sustain their

quarrel single-handed against him. Francis replied, that he

lied--_qu'il en avait menti par la gorge_, and that he was

ready to meet him in single combat whenever and wherever he

pleased.

The lists were prepared in the court-yard of the chateau of St.

Germain-en-Laye, and the 10th of July, 1547, was appointed for the

encounter. The cartels of the combatants, which are preserved in the

_Mémoires de Castelnau_, were as follow:

"_Cartel of François de Vivonne, lord of la Chataigneraie_.

"SIRE,

"Having learned that Guy Chabot de Jarnac, being lately at Compiegne,

asserted that whoever had said that he boasted of having criminal

intercourse with his mother-in-law was wicked and a wretch, I, sire, with

your good will and pleasure, do answer that he has wickedly lied, and will

lie as many times as he denies having said that which I affirm he did say;

for I repeat, that he told me several times, and boasted of it, that he

had slept with his mother-in-law.

"FRANÇOIS DE VIVONNE."

To this cartel De Jarnac replied:

"SIRE,

"With your good will and permission, I say, that François de Vivonne has

lied in the imputation which he has cast upon me, and of which I spoke to

you at Compiegne. I therefore entreat you, sire, most humbly, that you be

pleased to grant us a fair field, that we may fight this battle to the

death.

"GUY CHABOT."

The preparations were conducted on a scale of the greatest magnificence,

the king having intimated his intention of being present. La Chataigneraie

made sure of the victory, and invited the king and a hundred and fifty of

the principal personages of the court to sup with him in the evening,

after the battle, in a splendid tent which he had prepared at the

extremity of the lists. De Jarnac was not so confident, though perhaps

more desperate. At noon, on the day appointed, the combatants met, and

each took the customary oath that he bore no charms or amulets about him,

or made use of any magic, to aid him against his antagonist. They then

attacked each other, sword in hand. La Chataigneraie was a strong robust

man, and over confident; De Jarnac was nimble, supple, and prepared for

the worst. The combat lasted for some time doubtful, until De Jarnac,

overpowered by the heavy blows of his opponent, covered his head with his

shield, and, stooping down, endeavoured to make amends by his agility for

his deficiency of strength. In this crouching posture he aimed two blows

at the left thigh of La Chataigneraie, who had left it uncovered, that the

motion of his leg might not be impeded. Each blow was successful, and,

amid the astonishment of all the spectators, and to the great regret of

the king, La Chataigneraie rolled over upon the sand. He seized his

dagger, and made a last effort to strike De Jarnac: but he was unable to

support himself, and fell powerless into the arms of the assistants. The

officers now interfered, and De Jarnac being declared the victor, fell

down upon his knees, uncovered his head, and, clasping his hands together,

exclaimed: "_O Domine, non sum dignus!_" La Chataigneraie was so mortified

by the result of the encounter, that he resolutely refused to have his

wounds dressed. He tore off the bandages which the surgeons applied, and

expired two days afterwards. Ever since that time, any sly and unforeseen

attack has been called by the French a _coup de Jarnac_. Henry was so

grieved at the loss of his favourite, that he made the solemn oath already

alluded to, that he would never again, so long as he lived, permit a duel.

Some writers have asserted, and among others, Mezerai, that he issued a

royal edict forbidding them. This has been doubted by others, and as there

appears no registry of the edict in any of the courts, it seems most

probable that it was never issued. This opinion is strengthened by the

fact, that, two years afterwards, the council ordered another duel to be

fought with similar forms, but with less magnificence, on account of the

inferior rank of the combatants. It is not anywhere stated that Henry

interfered to prevent it, notwithstanding his solemn oath; but that, on

the contrary, he encouraged it, and appointed the Marshal de la Marque to

see that it was conducted according to the rules of chivalry. The

disputants were Fendille and D'Aguerre, two gentlemen of the household,

who, quarrelling in the king's chamber, had proceeded from words to blows.

The council, being informed of the matter, decreed that it could only be

decided in the lists. Marshal de la Marque, with the king's permission,

appointed the city of Sedan as the place of combat. Fendille, who was a

bad swordsman, was anxious to avoid an encounter with D'Aguerre, who was

one of the most expert men of the age; but the council authoritatively

commanded that he should fight, or be degraded from all his honours.

D'Aguerre appeared in the field attended by François de Vendôme, Count de

Chartres, while Fendille was accompanied by the Duke of Nevers. Fendille

appears to have been not only an inexpert swordsman, but a thorough

coward; one who, like Cowley, might have heaped curses on the man,

"(Death's factor sure), who brought

Dire swords into this peaceful world."

On the very first encounter he was thrown from his horse, and, confessing

on the ground all that his victor required of him, slunk away

ignominiously from the arena.

One is tempted to look upon the death of Henry II. as a judgment upon him

for his perjury in the matter of duelling. In a grand tournament

instituted on the occasion of the marriage of his daughter, he broke

several lances in encounters with some of the bravest knights of the time.

Ambitious of still further renown, he would not rest satisfied until he

had also engaged the young Count de Montgommeri. He received a wound in

the eye from the lance of his antagonist, and died from its effects

shortly afterwards, in the forty-first year of his age.

In the succeeding reigns of Francis II., Charles IX., and Henry III., the

practice of duelling increased to an alarming extent. Duels were not rare

in the other countries of Europe at the same period; but in France they

were so frequent, that historians, in speaking of that age, designate it

as "l'époque de la fureur des duels." The parliament of Paris endeavoured,

as far as in its power lay, to discourage the practice. By a decree dated

the 26th of June 1559, it declared all persons who should be present at

duels, or aiding and abetting in them, to be rebels to the king,

transgressors of the law, and disturbers of the public peace.

When Henry III. was assassinated at St. Cloud in 1589, a young gentleman,

named L'Isle-Marivaut, who had been much beloved by him, took his death so

much to heart, that he resolved not to survive him. Not thinking suicide

an honourable death, and wishing, as he said, to die gloriously in

revenging his king and master, he publicly expressed his readiness to

fight any body to the death, who should assert that Henry's assassination

was not a great misfortune to the community. Another youth, of a fiery

temper and tried courage, named Marolles, took him at his word, and the

day and place of the combat were forthwith appointed. When the hour had

come, and all were ready, Marolles turned to his second, and asked whether

his opponent had a casque or helmet only, or whether he wore a _sallade_,

or headpiece. Being answered a helmet only, he said gaily, "So much the

better; for, sir my second, you shall repute me the wickedest man in all

the world, if I do not thrust my lance right through the middle of his

head and kill him." Truth to say, he did so at the very first onset, and

the unhappy L'Isle-Marivaut expired without a groan. Brantôme, who relates

this story, adds, that the victor might have done as he pleased with the

body, cut off the head, dragged it out of the camp, or exposed it upon an

ass; but that being a wise and very courteous gentleman, he left it to the

relatives of the deceased to be honourably buried, contenting himself with

the glory of his triumph, by which he gained no little renown and honour

among the ladies of Paris.

[Illustration: HENRY IV.]

On the accession of Henry IV. that monarch determined to set his face

against duelling; but such was the influence of early education and the

prejudices of society upon him, that he never could find it in his heart

to punish a man for this offence. He thought it tended to foster a warlike

spirit among his people. When the chivalrous Créqui demanded his

permission to fight Don Philippe de Savoire, he is reported to have said,

"Go, and if I were not a king, I would be your second." It is no wonder

that when such was known to be the king's disposition, his edicts

attracted but small attention. A calculation was made by M. de Lomenie, in

the year 1607, that since the accession of Henry, in 1589, no less than

four thousand French gentlemen had lost their lives in these conflicts;

which, for the eighteen years, would have been at the rate of four or five

in a week, or eighteen per month! Sully, who reports this fact in his

Memoirs, does not throw the slightest doubt upon its exactness; and adds,

that it was chiefly owing to the facility and ill-advised good-nature of

his royal master that the bad example had so empoisoned the court, the

city, and the whole country. This wise minister devoted much of his time

and attention to the subject; for the rage, he says, was such as to cause

him a thousand pangs, and the king also. There was hardly a man moving in

what was called good society, who had not been engaged in a duel either as

principal or second; and if there were such a man, his chief desire was to

free himself from the imputation of non-duelling, by picking a quarrel

with somebody. Sully constantly wrote letters to the king, in which he

prayed him to renew the edicts against this barbarous custom, to aggravate

the punishment against offenders, and never, in any instance, to grant a

pardon, even to a person who had wounded another in a duel, much less to

any one who had taken away life. He also advised, that some sort of

tribunal, or court of honour, should be established, to take cognisance of

injurious and slanderous language, and of all such matters as usually led

to duels; and that the justice to be administered by this court should be

sufficiently prompt and severe to appease the complainant, and make the

offender repent of his aggression.

[Illustration: GALLERY AT FONTAINEBLEAU.]

Henry, being so warmly pressed by his friend and minister, called together

an extraordinary council in the gallery of the palace of Fontainebleau, to

take the matter into consideration. When all the members were assembled,

his majesty requested that some person conversant with the subject would

make a report to him on the origin, progress, and different forms of the

duel. Sully complacently remarks, that none of the councillors gave the

king any great reason to felicitate them on their erudition. In fact, they

all remained silent. Sully held his peace with the rest; but he looked so

knowing, that the king turned towards him, and said:--"Great master! by

your face I conjecture that you know more of this matter than you would

have us believe. I pray you, and indeed I command, that you tell us what

you think and what you know." The coy minister refused, as he says, out of

mere politeness to his more ignorant colleagues; but, being again pressed

by the king, he entered into a history of duelling both in ancient and

modern times. He has not preserved this history in his Memoirs; and, as

none of the ministers or councillors present thought proper to do so, the

world is deprived of a discourse which was, no doubt, a learned and

remarkable one. The result was, that a royal edict was issued, which Sully

lost no time in transmitting to the most distant provinces, with a

distinct notification to all parties concerned that the king was in

earnest, and would exert the full rigour of the law in punishment of the

offenders. Sully himself does not inform us what were the provisions of

the new law; but Father Matthias has been more explicit, and from him we

learn, that the marshals of France were created judges of a court of

chivalry, for the hearing of all causes wherein the honour of a noble or

gentleman was concerned, and that such as resorted to duelling should be

punished by death and confiscation of property, and that the seconds and

assistants should lose their rank, dignity, or offices, and be banished

from the court of their sovereign.[60]

[60] _Le Père Matthias_, tome ii. livre iv.

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