DUEL, a deadly combat between two persons. The word is used in two distinct senses — (1) the judicial combat, a form of trial which prevailed in the Middle Ages, ordained by law as a proof of guilt or innocence; and (2) the modem duel, a pre-arranged combat with deadly weapons between two private persons to settle some private quarrel.
Though duelling is in England obsolete, and in other countries fast obsolescent, yet it must still command our attention as the latest survival of feudalism, and its history will always be studied as one of the most curious developments of mediaeval society....
On the origin of the duel a vast amount of perverse ingenuity has been spent. Writers of the 16th and 17th centuries commonly begin their treatises with an account of the combats between David and Goliath, Hector and Achilles, the Horatii and Curiatii. By etymology it is true that duellum is the same word as l>ellum, and in this sense the origin of the duel must be traced to the earliest condition of society, when every man’s hand was against his neighbour. But, in the specialized sense which the word now bears, the duel was a peculiar institution of comparatively recent origin, a local custom which never spread beyond the limits of civilized Europe. It is easily distinguished both from the casual affrays of savages and the set battles of the champions of contending nations. An account of the judicial duel will clearly show that it is the direct parent of the modern duel. In the year 501 Gondebald, king of the Burgundians, passed a law authorizing the wager of battle, and in the preamble he gives his reason for introducing this new form of trial. It is that his subjects may no longer take oaths upon uncertain matters, or forswear themselves upon certain. Here is one proof among many that the judicial duel was introduced to correct the abuses of compurgation by oath. Like the other ordeals which it superseded, it was a direct appeal to Heaven to vindicate truth and punish falsehood. Like them it was founded on the superstitious spirit of the age, but unlike them it addressed itself to the martial temper and personal prowess of the nobles. Other ordeals, such as the cross, the corsned, and the oath on the gospels, were in the hands of the clergy, and were manipulated by them in the interest of the church or of themselves. In the wager of battle each man felt that his cause was in his own hands, and, though might was right, yet even this was better than the jugglery of priests. Nor, as Montesquieu has pointed out, was the trial so irrational as it would seem to modern eyes. Among a warlike people cowardice is a sign of other vices, vices which are most hateful and most prejudicial to a simple community, of meanness, lying, and fraud. It shows an indifference to public opinion, a neglect of the education of the day, which consisted mainly in the use of arms and warlike exercises. In a word, the law was neither better nor worse than the received morality of the time. From this jurisdiction none was exempt; women, minors, and ecclesiastics were required to appear by proxy; and adverse witnesses, and even the judge himself, were liable to be challenged to make good their words by force of arms. Those who are curious to observe the formalities and legal rules of a judicial combat will find them described at length in the 28th book of Montesquieu’s Esprit des Lois. On these regulations he well remarks that, as there are an infinity of wise things conducted in a very foolish manner, so there are some foolish things conducted in a very wise manner. For our present purpose it is sufficient to observe the development of the idea of personal honour from which the modern duel directly sprang. In the ancient laws of the Swedes we find that if any man shall say to another, “You are not a man equal to other men,” or “You have not the heart of a man,” and the other shall reply, “I am a man as good as you,” they shall meet on the highway, and then follow the regulations for the combat. What is this but the modern challenge I By the law of the Lombards if one man call another arga, the insulted party might defy the other to mortal combat. What is arga but the dummer Junger of the German student? Beaumanoir thus describes a legal process under Louis le Débonnaire :—The appellant begins by a declaration before the judge that the appellee is guilty of a certain crime; if the appellee answers that his accuser lies, the judge then ordains the duel. Is not this the modem point of honour, by which to be given the lie is an insult which can only be wiped out by blood?
From Germany the trial by judicial combat rapidly spread to every country of Europe. In France it was first confined to criminal causes, but this restriction was removed by Louis IX., who made it legal in civil matters as well, with the one proviso that in cases of debt the amount must exceed twelve deniers. By Philippe le Bel it was again confined in civil cases to questions of disputed inheritance, and forbidden altogether during the war between England and France. In 1385 a duel was fought, the result of which was so preposterous that even the most superstitious began to lose faith in the efficacy of such a judgment of God. A certain Jacques Legris was accused by the wife of Jean Carrouge of having introduced himself by night in the guise of her husband, and thus abused her. A duel was ordained by the Parliament, which was fought in the presence of Charles VI. Legris was defeated and hanged on the spot. Not long after a criminal arrested for some other offence confessed himself to be the author of the outrage. No institution could long survive so open a confutation. Henceforward the duel in France ceases to be an appeal to Heaven, and becomes merely a satisfaction of wounded honour. The last instance of a duel authorized by the magistrates, and conducted according to the forms of law, was the famous one between François de Vivonne de la Châtaignerie and Guy Chabot de Jamac. The duel was fought on the 10th of July 1547 in the court-yard of the château of St Germain-en-Laye, in the presence of the king and a large assembly of courtiers. It was memorable in two ways. It enriched the French language with a new phrase; a sly and unforeseen blow, such as that by which De Jamac worsted La Châtaignerie has since been called a coup de Jarnac. And Henry, grieved at the death of his favourite, swore a solemn oath that he woιdd never again permit a duel to be fought. This led to the first of the many royal edicts against duelling.
In England, it is now generally agreed that the wager of battle did not exist before the time of the Norman Conquest. Some previous examples have been adduced, but on examination they will be seen to belong rather to the class of single combats between the champions of two opposing armies. One such instance is worth quoting as a curious illustration of the superstition of the time. It occurs in a rare tract printed in London, 1610, The Duello, or Single Combat. “Danish irruptions and the bad aspects of Mars having drencht the common mother earth with her sonnes’ blood streames, under the reigne of Edmund, a Saxon monarch, misso in compendium (so worthy Camden expresseth it) bello utriusque gentis fata Pdmundo Λnglorum et Canuto Danorum regibus commissa fuerunt, qui singulari certamine de summa imperij in hac insula (that is, the Eight in Glos tershire) depugnarunt!' By the laws of William the Conqueror the trial by battle was only compulsory when the opposite parties were both Normans, in other cases it was optional. As the two nations were gradually merged into one, this form of trial spread, and until the reign of Henry II. it was the only mode for determining a suit for the recovery of land. The method of procedure is admirably described by Shakespeare in the opening scene in liichard II., where Henry of Bolingbroke, duke of Hereford, challenges Thomas duke of Norfolk, and in the mock-heroic battle between Horner the Armourer and his man Peter in Henry VI., and by Sir W. Scott in the Pair Maid of Perth, where Henry Gow appears before the king as the champion of Magdalen Proudfute. The judicial duel never took root in England as it did in France. In civil suits it was superseded by the grand assize of Henry II., and in cases of felony by indictment at the prosecution of the Crown. One of the latest instances occurred in the reign of Elizabeth, 1571, when the lists were actually prepared and the justices of the common pleas appeared at To thill Fields as umpires of the combat. Fortunately the petitioner failed to put in an appearance, and was consequently nonsuited (See Spelman, Glossary, s.v. “Campus”). As late as 1817 Lord Ellenborough, in the case of Thornton v. Ashford, pronounced that “the general law of the land is that there shall be a trial by battle in cases of appeal unless the party brings himself within some of the exceptions.” Thornton was accused of murdering Mary Ashford, and claimed his right to challenge the appellant, the brother of the murdered girl, to wager of battle. His suit was allowed, and, the challenge being refused, the accused escaped. Next year the law was abolished (59 Geo. III., c. 46).
In sketching the history of the judicial combat we have traced the parentage of the modern duel. Strip the former of its legality, and divest it of its religious sanction, aiιd the latter remains. We are justified, then, in dating the commencement of duelling from the abolition of the wager of battle. To pursue its history we must return to France, the country where it first arose, and the soil on which it has most flourished. The causes which made it indigenous to France are sufficiently explained by the condition of society and the national character. As Buckle has pointed out, duelling is a special development of chivalry, and chivalry is one of the phases of the protective spirit which was predominant in France up to the time of the Revolution. Add to this the keen sense of personal honour, the susceptibility, and the pugnacity which distinguish the French race. Montaigne, when touching on this subject in his essays, says, “Put three Frenchmen together on the plains of Libya, and they will not be a month in company without scratching one another’s eyes out.” The third chapter of d’Audiguier’s Ancien usage des duels is headed, “Pourquoi les seuls Français se battent en duel.” English literature abounds with allusions to this characteristic of the French nation. Lord Herbert of Cherbury, who was ambassador at the court of Louis XHI., says, “There is scarce a Frenchman worth looking on who has not killed his man in a duel.” Ben Jonson, in his Magnetic Lady, makes Compass, the scholar and soldier, thus describe France, “that garden of humanity” :—
There every gentleman professing arms Thinks he is bound in honour to embrace The bearing of a challenge for another, Without or questioning the cause or asking Least colour of a reason.
Duels were not common before the 16th century. Hallam attributes their prevalence to the barbarous custom of wearing swords as a part of domestic dress, a fashion which was not introduced till the later part of the 15th century. In 1560 the states-general at Orleans supplicated Charles IX. to put a stop to duelling. Hence the famous ordinance of 1566, drawn up by the Chancellor de l'Hôpital, which served as the basis of the successive ordinances of the following kings. Under the frivolous and sanguinary reign of Henry ILL, “who was as eager for excitement as a woman,” the rage for duels spread till it became almost an epidemic. In 1602 the combined remonstrances of the church and the magistrates extorted from the king an edict condemning to death whoever should ' give or accept a challenge or act as second. But public opinion was revolted by such rigour, and the statute remained a dead letter. A duel forms a fit conclusion to the reign. A hair-brained youth named L’isle Marivaux swore that he would not survive his beloved king, and threw his cartel into the air. It was at once picked up, and Marivaux soon obtained the death he had courted. Henry IV. began his reign by an edict against duels, but he was known in private to favour them; and, when De Créqui asked leave to fight Don Philip of Savoy, he is reported to have said, “Go, and if I were not a king I would be your second.” Fontenay-Mareuil says, in his Mémoires, that in the eight years between 1601 and 1609, 2000 men of noble birth fell in duels. In 1609 a more effective measure was taken at the instance of Sully by the establishment of a court of honour. The edict decrees that all aggrieved persons shall address themselves to the king, either directly or through the medium of the constables, marshals, &c.; that the king shall decide, whether, if an accommodation could not be effected, permission to fight should be given; that the aggressor, if pronounced in the wrong, shall in any case be suspended from any public office or employment, and be mulcted of one-third of his revenue till he has satisfied the aggrieved party; that any one giving or receiving a challenge shall forfeit all right of reparation and all his offices; that any one who kills his adversary in an unauthorized duel shall suffer death without burial, and his children shall be reduced to villanage; that seconds, if they take part in a duel, shall suffer death, if not, shall be degraded from the profession of arms. This edict has been pronounced by Henri Martin “the wisest decree of the ancient monarchy on a matter which involves so many delicate and profound questions of morals, politics, and religion touching civil rights” {Histoire de Prance, X. 466).
In the succeeding reign the mania for duels revived. De Houssaye tells us that in Paris when friends met the first question was, “Who fought yesterday? who is to fight to-day Ί ” They fought by night and day, by moonlight and by torch-light, in the public streets and squares. A hasty word, a misconceived gesture, a question about the colour of a riband or an embroidered letter, such were the commonest pretexts for a duel. The slighter and more frivolous the dispute, the less were they inclined to submit them to the king for adjudication. Often, like gladiators or prize-fighters, they fought for the pure love of fighting. A misunderstanding is cleared up on the ground. “N’importe,” cry the principals, “puisque nous sommes ici, battons-nous.” Seconds, as Montaigne tells us, are no longer witnesses, but must take part themselves unless they would be thought wanting in affection or courage; and he goes on to complain that men are no longer contented with a single second, “c’était anciennement des duels, ce sont à cette heure rencontres et batailles.” There is no more striking instance of Richelieu’s firmness and power as a statesman than his conduct in the matter of duelling. In his Testament Politique he has assigned his reasons for disapproving it as a statesman and ecclesiastic. But this disapproval was turned to active detestation by a private cause. His elder brother, the head of the house, had fallen in a duel stabbed to the heart by an enemy of the cardinal. Already four edicts had been published under Louis XIII. with little or no effect, when in 1626 there was published a new edict condemning to death any one who had killed his adversary in a duel, or had been found guilty of sending a challenge a second time. Banishment and partial confiscation of goods were awarded for lesser offences. But this edict differed from preceding ones not so much in its severity as in the fact that it was the first which was actually enforced. The cardinal began by imposing the penalties of banishment and fines, but, these proving ineffectual to stay the evil, he determined to make a terrible example. To quote his own words to the king, “Il s’agit de couper la gorge aux duels ou aux édits de votre Majesté.” The count de Boutteville, a renommist who had already been engaged in twenty-one affairs of honour, determined out of pure bravado to fight a twenty-second time. The duel took place at mid-day on the Place Royal. De Boutteville was arrested with his second, the count de Chapelles; they were tried by Parliament, condemned, and, in spite of all the influence of the powerful house of Montmorenci, of which De Boutteville was a branch, they were both beheaded at Grève, June 21,1627. For a short time the ardour of duellists was cooled. But the lesson soon lost its effect. Only five years later we read in the Mercure de France that two gentlemen who had killed one another in a duel were, by the cardinal’s orders, hanged on a gallows, stripped, and with their heads downwards, in the sight of all the people. This was a move in the right direction, since, for fashionable vices, ridicule and ignominy is a more drastic remedy than death. It was on this principle that Caraccioli, prince of Melfi, when viceroy of Piedmont, finding that his officers were being decimated by duelling, proclaimed that all duels should be fought on the parapet of the Ponte Vecchio, and if one of the combatants chanced to fall into the river he should on no account be pulled out.
Under the long reign of Louis XIV. many celebrated, duels took place, of which the most remarkable were that between the duke of Guise and Count Coligny, the last fought on the Place Royal, and that between the dukes of Beaufort and Nemours, each attended by four friends. Of the ten combatants, Nemours and two others were killed on the spot, and none escaped without some wound. No less than eleven edicts against duelling were issued under le Grand Monarque. That of 1643 established a supreme court of honour composed of the marshals of France; but the most famous was that of 1679, which confirmed the enactments of his predecessors, Henry IV. and Louis XII. At the same time a solemn agreement was entered into by the principal nobility that they would never engage in a duel on any pretence whatever. A medal was struck to commemorate the occasion, and the firmness of the king, in refusing pardon to all offenders, contributed more to restrain this scourge of society than all the efforts of his predecessors.
The subsequent history of duelling in France may be more shortly treated. The two great Frenchmen whose writings preluded the French Revolution both set their faces against it. Voltaire had indeed, as a young man, in obedience to the dictates of society, once sought satisfaction from a nobleman for a brutal insult, and had reflected on his temerity in the solitude of the Bastille. Henceforward he inveighed against the practice, not. only for its absurdity, but also for its aristocratic exclusiveness. Rousseau had said of duelling, “It is not an institution of honour, but a horrible and barbarous custom, which a courageous man despises and a good man abhors.” Then came the Revolution, which levelled at a blow the huge structure of feudalism, and with it the duel, its instrument and apanage. Pauca tamen suberunt priscoe vestigia fraudis. With each reaction against the revolutionary spirit and return to feudal ideas the duel reappears. Under the Directory it again became fashionable among the upper classes. Napoleon was a sworn foe to it. “Bon duelliste mauvais soldat” is one of his best known sayings; and, when the king of Sweden sent him a challenge, he replied that he would order a fencing-master to attend him. as plenipotentiary. After the battle of Waterloo duels such as Lever loves to depict were frequent between disbanded French officers and those of the allies in occupation. The restoration of the Bourbons brought with it a fresh crop of duels. Since then they have been chiefly confined to military circles, and a small section of Parisian journalists. Yet a list of duels fought within the last fifty years in France would occupy no inconsiderable space, and would include some of the most famous names in literature and politics, Emile de Girardin, Armand Carrel, Lamartine, Alexandre Dumas, Ledru Rollin, Edmond About, Sainte-Beuve, and M. Thiers. Even...
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