In later days, the Burgundians, faithful to their early institutions, and the Flemish citizens governed by the Duke of Burgundy, used to settle their disputes in a manner somewhat similar. In imitation of the ancient athletæ, who anointed their bodies with oil, these worthies smeared themselves over with tallow or hog’s lard, and then, with a buckler and club, fell to; having first dipped their hands in ashes, and filled their mouths with honey or sugar. They then contended until one of the parties was killed—and the survivor was hanged for his trouble.
As civilization improved, the ladies were allowed to witness these exhibitions; and a curious duel is related by Brantôme. At the coronation of Henry II, a dispute arose between a Baron des Guerres and a certain Seigneur de Faudilles, and they applied for a “field” to settle the quarrel: the sovereign, however, had made a vow not to sanction any duel since the death of his favourite De la Chasteneraye; and they therefore met at Sedan, which was under the sovereignty of Monsieur de Bouillon. The combatants appeared after all due preparation; Le Sieur de Faudilles having lighted a fire and set up a gallows, to the which he intended to suspend the corpse of his antagonist. They were both attended by their parrains; the baron being armed with a peculiar sort of sword, called épée bâtarde, the dexterous use of which had been taught him by a cunning priest. The action commenced, when Faudilles ran his sword through the baron’s thigh, and inflicted a large wound that bled most profusely; then, throwing away the sword, a wrestling match ensued, the baron being very expert in this exercise, which had been taught him by a priest of Brittany, a chaplain of Cardinal de Lennicourt. Both parties now belaboured each other furiously, although from loss of blood the baron was every moment becoming more weak; until a scaffolding, upon which were collected a vast throng of ladies and elderly gentlemen assembled to see the fight, broke down with a tremendous crash. The outcries and shrieks of the ladies, with limbs bruised and fractured, added to the general uproar, the bystanders not knowing whom they should first assist—the combatants, who, sprawling on the ground, were still pummelling each other; or the affrighted ladies: while the relations and friends of the baron, perceiving that he was becoming more enfeebled, roared out, “Throw sand in his eyes and mouth—sand—sand in his eyes and mouth!” which advice they dared not have given but for the interruption of the fall of the scaffolding; for the bystanders were not allowed to speak, move, or even blow their noses: the baron took the hint, and lost no time in seizing a handful of sand, and cramming it into the eyes and mouth of his opponent, who gave in, amidst the loud shouts of the spectators, some approving and others blaming the stratagem; the baron’s friends asserted that his opponent had yielded, which his party as firmly denied; and had it not been for M. de Bouillon, the judge of the “field,” both parties would have come to blows.
These barbarous ordeals and judicial combats were managed with great solemnity: the ground being selected, as we have seen in the last duel, a large fire was kindled, and a gallows erected for the accommodation of the vanquished; two seats, covered with black, were also prepared for the combatants, on which they received certain admonitions, and were made to enter into various obligations, such as to swear on the Holy Evangelists that they had not had recourse to any sorcery, witchcraft, or incantation. Each combatant selected his seconds, who were styled parrains, or godfathers, and who at first had no other duties to perform than to guard with vigilance the rights and privileges of their principals, but who were afterwards obliged either to support or to avenge their champion. This practice arose in France, amongst the “mignons” of Henry III, in 1578, having been introduced from Italy.
These preliminaries settled, the champions were to take God, the Virgin Mary, and all the saints, more especially Monsieur St. George, chevalier, to witness that their cause was a just one, and that they would maintain it; having previously attended the celebration of mass, the forms of which are still to be found in certain old missals, where it is called Missa pro duello. The advantages of ground, wind, and sun, were then fairly divided; and, not unfrequently, sweetmeats and sugar-plums were distributed at the same time. The arms of the combatants were next measured; and, when they had taken their ground, the marshal of the “field” exclaimed “Let go the good champions!” During the fight no one was allowed to speak, to cough, spit, sneeze, blow his nose, or, in short, do anything that could possibly disturb the combatants, or communicate a preconcerted signal or advice.
The weapons admitted in these meetings were a double-edged straight sword, a cuirass, a buckler, and a lance when the combatants were mounted. Villains were only allowed to decide their differences with cudgels.
In the reign of St. Louis (1283), these combats not only took place between the principals, but were allowed between one of the parties and the witnesses of his opponent; and, in the event of such witness being discomfited, his evidence was considered perjury. The latitude of impeaching an accusation went further; for the accused, found guilty upon evidence, could sometimes tell the judge that he had asserted a falsehood, in which case he was obliged to give him satisfaction sword in hand.
The form of denial was most eloquent:—“Thou liest, and I am ready to defend my body against thine; and thou shalt either be a corpse or a recreant any hour of the day: and this is my gage.” So saying, the appellant knelt, and presented a glove, or some other gage, to his accuser.
This privilege granted the accused, was, however, only allowed when the judge was not his lord or suzerain; in the which case, his presuming to doubt his judgment and hereditary wisdom was not deemed a felony; for, in other cases, as Desfontaines has it, “Between thee, my lord, and thy villains, there is no other Judge than God.”
In certain cases of physical inability, and where women and the clergy were concerned, a battle by proxy was allowed; and regular bravoes, called champions, were employed—a trade rather perilous, since their right hand was lopped off in the event of their being worsted, perhaps to encourage their companions to more zeal on the behalf of their clients, or more dexterity. The case of the principals was not much pleasanter; for, while their champions were discussing the point, they were kept out of the lists with a rope round their necks, and the one who was beaten by proxy was forthwith hanged in person, although in certain cases they were indulged with decapitation.
A gentleman could call out a villain, but the villain had not the slightest right to demand satisfaction from his superior; therefore he had no other resource than an appeal to the trial of hot iron, and water boiling or cold, which was conducted in the following manner:
In the trial by hot iron, the defendant was obliged to hold a heated plate of iron for a certain time in his hand; his hand was then bandaged, and a seal affixed upon it. When this dressing was raised three days after, if any burn was apparent, his cause was lost. It appears that proxies with hands callous and fireproof were often procured for this operation.7
In the trial by hot water, the accused was ordered to withdraw a consecrated ring from a vessel filled with boiling water. In the ordeal of cold water, the patient was thrown into a pond with his hands and feet tied up. If he did not sink, his guilt was evident; inasmuch as, the water having previously received a priest’s blessing in Latin, its refusal to receive the patient was a convincing proof of his unholiness and criminality.
There was another test of guilt, called the ordeal of the cross. The prisoner having declared his innocence upon oath, and appealed to the judgment, two sticks were prepared exactly like each other, and the figure of the cross was cut upon one of them; each of them was then wrapped up in wool, and placed upon a relic on the altar. After proper prayers, a priest took up one of the sticks; and, if it was the one that bore the sign of the cross, the accused was proclaimed innocent. There was another ordeal of the cross, resorted to in civil cases. The judges, parties, and all concerned, being assembled in a church, each of the parties chose a priest, the youngest and stoutest he could find, to be his representative in the trial. These representatives were then placed one on each side of some famed crucifix, and, a signal given, they both at once stretched their arms at full length, so as to form a cross with their bodies. In this painful posture