The opposition of the church as represented by its worthiest and most authoritative spokesmen continued. St. Ramon de Peñafort, the leading canonist of his time, about 1240, asserts uncompromisingly that all concerned in judicial combats are guilty of mortal sin; the sin is somewhat lightened indeed when the pleader is obliged to accept the combat by order of the judge, but the judge himself, the assessors who counsel it, and the priest who gives the benediction all sin most gravely; if death occurs they are all homicides and are rendered “irregular.”[705] About the same time Alexander Hales ingeniously argued away the precedent of David and Goliath by showing that it was simply a prefiguration of the Passion, in which Christ triumphed over Satan as in a duel.[706] With the development, moreover, of the subtilties of scholastic theology the doctors found that the duel was less objectionable than the other forms of ordeal, because, as Thomas Aquinas remarks, the hot iron or boiling water is a direct tempting of God, while the duel is only a matter of chance, for no one expects miraculous interposition unless the champions are very unequal in age or strength.[707] This struck at the very root of the faith on which confidence in the battle ordeal was based, yet in spite of it the persistence of ecclesiastical belief in the divine interposition is fairly illustrated by a case, related with great triumph by monkish chroniclers, as late as the fourteenth century, when a duel was undertaken by direction of the Virgin Mary herself. In 1325, according to the story, a French Jew feigned conversion to Christianity in order to gratify his spleen by mutilating the images in the churches, and at length he committed the sacrilege of carrying off the holy wafer to aid in the hideous rites of his fellows. The patience of the Virgin being at last exhausted, she appeared in a vision to a certain smith, commanding him to summon the impious Israelite to the field. A second and a third time was the vision repeated without effect, till at last the smith, on entering a church, was confronted by the Virgin in person, scolded for his remissness, promised an easy victory, and forbidden to pass the church door until his duty should be accomplished. He obeyed and sought the authorities. The duel was decreed, and the unhappy Hebrew, on being brought into the lists, yielded without a blow, falling on his knees, confessing his unpardonable sins, and crying that he could not resist the thousands of armed men who appeared around his adversary with threatening weapons. He was accordingly promptly burned, to the great satisfaction of all believers.[708]
Evidently the clergy at large did not second the reformatory efforts of their pontiffs. There was not only the ancestral belief implanted in the minds of those from among whom they were drawn, but the seignorial rights enjoyed by prelates and abbeys were not to be willingly abandoned. The progress of enlightenment was slow and the teachings of the papacy can only be enumerated as one of the factors at work to discredit the judicial duel.[709] We can estimate how deeply rooted were the prejudices to be overcome when we find Dante seriously arguing that property acquired by the duel is justly acquired; that God may be relied upon to render the just cause triumphant; that it is wicked to doubt it, while it is folly to believe that a champion can be the weaker when God strengthens him.[710]
In its endeavors to suppress the judicial duel the Church had to weigh opposing difficulties. It could, as we have seen (p. 156), enjoin its members from taking part in such combats and from adjudging them in their jurisdictions; it could decree that priests became “irregular” if death ensued in duels where they gave the benediction, or perhaps even where they had only brought relics on which the combatants took the oaths. But over the secular courts it had only the power of persuasion, or at most of moral coercion, and among the canon doctors there was considerable discussion as to the extent to which it could pronounce participation in the duel a mortal sin, entailing excommunication and denial of the rites of sepulture. When a man sought the duel, when he demanded it of the judge and provoked his adversary to it, he could be pronounced guilty of homicide if death ensued. It was otherwise where an innocent man was accused of a mortal crime and would be hanged if he refused the duel adjudged to him by court. It was argued that the Church was a harsh mother if she forced her children thus to submit to death and infamy for a scruple of recent origin, raised merely by papal command, though the more rigid casuists insisted even on this. All agreed, however, that in civil cases a man ought rather to undergo the loss of his property than to imperil his soul and disobey the Church.[711]
Perhaps the most powerful cause at work was the revival of the Roman jurisprudence, which in the thirteenth century commenced to undermine all the institutions of feudalism. Its theory of royal supremacy was most agreeable to sovereigns whose authority over powerful vassals was scarcely more than nominal; its perfection of equity between man and man could not fail to render it enticing to clear-minded jurists, wearied with the complicated and fantastic privileges of ecclesiastical, feudal, and customary law. Thus recommended, its progress was rapid. Monarchs lost no opportunity of inculcating respect for that which served their purpose so well, and the civil lawyers, who were their most useful instruments, speedily rose to be a power in the state. Of course the struggle was long, for feudalism had arisen from the necessities of the age, and a system on which were based all the existing institutions of Europe could only be attacked in detail, and could only be destroyed when the advance of civilization and the general diffusion of enlightenment had finally rendered it obsolete. The French Revolution was the final battle-field, and that terrible upheaval was requisite to obliterate a form of society whose existence had numbered nine hundred years.
The wager of battle was not long in experiencing the first assaults of the new power. The earliest efficient steps towards its abolition were taken in 1231 by the Emperor Frederic II. in his Neapolitan code. He pronounces it to be in no sense a legal proof, but only a species of divination, incompatible with every notion of equity and justice; and he prohibits it for the future, except in cases of poisoning or secret murder and treason where other proof is unattainable; and even in these it is placed at the option of the accuser alone; moreover, if the accuser commences by offering proof and fails he cannot then have recourse to combat; the accused must be acquitted.[712] The German Imperial code, known as the Kayser-Recht, which was probably compiled about the same time, contains a similar denunciation of the uncertainty of the duel, but does not venture on a prohibition, merely renouncing all responsibility for it, while recognizing it as a settled custom.[713] In the portion, however, devoted to municipal law, which is probably somewhat later in date, the prohibition is much more stringently expressed, manifesting the influences at work;[714] but even this is contradicted by a passage almost immediately preceding it. How little influence these wise counsels had, in a state so intensely feudal and aristocratic, is exemplified in the Suabian and Saxon codes, where the duel plays so important a part. Yet the desire to escape it was not altogether confined to the honest burghers of the cities, for in 1277 Rodolph of Hapsburg, even before he granted immunity to the imperial towns, gave a charter to the duchy of Styria, securing to the Styrians their privileges and rights, and in this he forbade the duel in all cases where sufficient testimony could be otherwise obtained; while the general tenor of the document shows that this was regarded as a favor.[715] The Emperor Albert I. was no less desirous of restricting the duel, and in ordinary criminal cases endeavored to substitute compurgation.[716]
Still, as late as 1487, the Inquisitor Sprenger, in discountenancing the red-hot iron ordeal in witch-trials, feels himself obliged to meet the arguments of those who urged the lawfulness of the duel as a reason for permitting the cognate appeal to the ordeal. To this he naïvely replies, as Thomas Aquinas had done, that they are essentially different, as the champions in a duel are about equally matched, and the killing of one of them is a simple affair, while the iron ordeal, or that of drinking boiling water, is a tempting of God by requiring a miracle.[717] This shows at the same time how thoroughly the judicial combat had degenerated from its original theory, and that the appeal to the God of battles had become a mere question of chance, or of the comparative strength and skill of a couple of professional bravos.
In Spain the influence of Roman institutions, transmitted through the Wisigothic laws, had allowed to the judicial duel less foothold than in other mediæval lands, and the process of suppressing it began early. In Aragon the chivalrous Jayme I., el Conquistador, in the franchises granted to Majorca, on its conquest in 1230, prohibited the judicial combat in both civil and criminal cases.[718] Within forty years from this, Alfonso the Wise of Castile issued the code generally known as Las Siete Partidas. In this he evidently desired to curb the practice as far as possible, stigmatizing it as a custom peculiar to the military class (por lid de caballeros ò de peones), and as reprehensible both as a tempting of God and as a source of perpetual injustice.[719] Accordingly, he subjected it to very important limitations. The wager of battle could only be granted by the king himself; it could only take place between gentlemen, and in personal actions alone which savored of treachery, such as murder, blows, or other dishonor, inflicted without warning or by surprise. Offences committed against property, burning, forcible seizure, and other wrongs, even without defiance, were specifically declared not subject to its decision, the body of the plaintiff being its only recognized justification.[720] Even in this limited sphere, the consent of both parties was requisite, for the appellant could prosecute in the ordinary legal manner, and the defendant, if challenged to battle, could elect to have the case tried by witnesses or inquest, nor could the king himself refuse him the right to do so.[721] When to this is added that a preliminary trial was requisite to decide whether the alleged offence was treacherous in its character or not, it will be seen that the combat was hedged around with such difficulties as rendered its presence on the statute book scarcely more than an unmeaning concession to popular prejudice; and if anything were wanting to prove the utter contempt of the legislator for the decisions of the battle-trial, it is to be found in the regulation that if the accused was killed on the field, without confessing the imputed crime, he was to be pronounced innocent, as one who had fallen in vindicating the truth.[722] The same desire to restrict the duel within the narrowest possible limits is shown in the rules concerning the employment of champions, which have been already alluded to. Although the Partidas as a scheme of legislation was not confirmed until the cortes of 1348 these provisions were lasting and produced the effect designed. It is true that in 1342 we hear of a combat ordered by Alfonso XI. between Pay Rodriguez de Ambia and Ruy Paez de Biedma, who mutually accused each other of treason. It was fought before the king and lasted for three days without either party obtaining the victory, till, on the evening of the third day, the king entered the lists and pacified the quarrel, saying that both antagonists could serve him better by fighting the Moors, with whom he was at war, than by killing each other.[723] Not long afterwards Alfonso in the Ordenamiento de Alcalá, issued in 1348, repeated the restrictions of the Partidas, but in a very cursory manner, and rather incidently than directly, showing that the judicial combat was then a matter of little importance.[724] In fact, the jurisprudence of Spain was derived so directly from the Roman law through the Wisigothic code and its Romance recension, the Fuero Juzgo, that the wager of battle could never have become so deeply rooted in the national faith as among the more purely barbarian races. It was therefore more readily eradicated, and yet, as late as the sixteenth century, a case occurred in which the judicial duel was prescribed by Charles V., in whose presence the combat took place.[725]
The varying phases of the struggle between progress and centralization on the one side, and chivalry and feudalism on the other, were exceedingly well marked in France, and as the materials for tracing them are abundant, a more detailed account of the gradual reform may perhaps have interest, as illustrating the long and painful strife which has been necessary to evoke order and civilization out of the incongruous elements from which modern European society has sprung. The sagacity of St. Louis, so rarely at fault in the details of civil administration, saw in the duel not only an unchristian and unrighteous practice, but a symbol of the disorganizing feudalism which he so energetically labored to suppress. His temper led him rather to adopt pacific measures, in sapping by the forms of law the foundations of the feudal power, than to break it down by force of arms as his predecessors had attempted. The centralization of the Roman polity might well appear to him and his advisers the ideal of a well-ordered state, and the royal supremacy had by this time advanced to a point where the gradual extension of the judicial prerogatives of the crown might prove the surest mode of humbling eventually the haughty vassals who had so often bearded the sovereign. No legal procedure was more closely connected with feudalism, or embodied its spirit more thoroughly, than the wager of battle, and Louis accordingly did all that lay in his power to abrogate the custom. The royal authority was strictly circumscribed, however, and though, in his celebrated Ordonnance of 1260, he formally prohibited the battle trial in the territory subject to his jurisdiction,[726] he was obliged to admit that he had no power to control the courts of his barons beyond the domains of the crown.[727] Even within this comparatively limited sphere, we may fairly assume from some passages in the Établissements, compiled about the year 1270, that he was unable to do away entirely with the practice. It is to be found permitted in some cases both civil and criminal, of peculiarly knotty character, admitting of no other apparent solution.[728] It seems, indeed, remarkable that he should even have authorized personal combat between brothers, in criminal accusations, only restricting them in civil suits to fighting by champions,[729] when the German law of nearly the same period forbids the duel, like marriage, between relations in the fifth degree, and states that previously it had been prohibited to those connected in the seventh degree.[730]
Even this qualified reform provoked determined opposition. Every motive of pride and interest prompted resistance. The prejudices of birth, the strength of the feudal principle, the force of chivalric superstition, the pride of self-reliance gave keener edge to the apprehension of losing an assured source of revenue. The right of granting the wager of battle was one of those appertaining to the hauts-justiciers, and so highly was it esteemed that paintings of champions fighting frequently adorned their halls as emblems of their prerogatives; Loysel, indeed, deduces from it a maxim, “The pillory, the gibbet, the iron collar, and paintings of champions engaged, are marks of high jurisdiction.”[731] This right had a considerable money value, for the seigneur at whose court an appeal of battle was tried received from the defeated party a fine of sixty livres if he was a gentleman, and sixty sous if a roturier, besides a perquisite of the horses and arms employed, and heavy mulcts for any delays which might be asked,[732] besides fines from those who withdrew after the combat was decreed.[733] Nor was this all, for during the centuries of its existence there had grown and clustered around the custom an immeasurable mass of rights and privileges which struggled lustily against destruction. Thus, hardly had the ordonnance of prohibition been issued when, in 1260, a knight named Mathieu le Voyer actually brought suit against the king for the loss it inflicted upon him. He dolefully set forth that he enjoyed the privilege of guarding the lists in all duels adjudged in the royal court at Corbon, for which he was entitled to receive a fee of five sous in each case; and, as his occupation thus was gone, he claimed compensation, modestly suggesting that he be allowed the same tax on all inquests held under the new law.[734] How closely all such sources of revenue were watched is illustrated by a case occurring in 1286, when Philippe le Bel remitted the fines accruing to him from a duel between two squires adjudged in the royal court of Tours. The seneschal of Anjou and Touraine brought suit before the Parlement of Paris to recover one-third of the amount, as he was entitled to that proportion of all dues arising from combats held within his jurisdiction, and he argued that the liberality of the king was not to be exercised to his disadvantage. His claim was pronounced just, and a verdict was rendered in his favor.[735]