In the reign of Henry II. the celebrated judicial duel (for such it might be considered) between Jarnac and De La Chasteneraye took place under very peculiar circumstances, carefully extracted from ancient chronicles by Cockburn, who gives us the following interesting account, most descriptive of the brutal manners of those chivalrous days.—“The persons were the Lords of Chasteneraye and of Jarnac, who were both neighbours and kinsmen. The first had said to Francis I. that the other was maintained so plentifully by his mother-in-law, with whom he had unlawful conversation. The King told this to Jarnac, for whom he had a great affection. Upon which Jarnac said to the King, that Chasteneraye had lied to him; but he not only maintaining what he had said, but adding that Jarnac had divers times owned it to himself, Jarnac did earnestly supplicate the King that the truth might be tried by combat; which Francis I. first granted, but afterwards recalled.
“Upon his death, an earnest supplication was made to his successor, Henry II. who, with the advice of his council, not only allowed, but appointed it at St. Germain-en-Laye, on the 10th July 1547, when the King, the whole court, the constable, admiral, and marshals of France being present, the two parties were brought before the King, attended by their several friends and trumpets, when each took the usual oaths. After this they were led to their several pavilions, where they were dressed for the combat, each having a friend and a confidant in the other’s pavilion while this was doing. It is said that Jarnac was but newly recovered of a sickness, and that he whispered to a friend, if he did not trust to the goodness of his cause, he should fear the acting of the part of a poltroon. When all the usual preamble of the ceremonies was over, they were call out by the King’s trumpet, and by his herald commanded to end their difference by combat. Chasteneraye was observed to brave it with some insolence; but Jarnac carried it modestly and humbly.
“Each attacked the other with great vigour; and, after several strokes and trifling wounds on both sides, while Chasteneraye was making a pass at Jarnac, he fetched a stroke which cut the ham of Chasteneraye’s left leg, and presently redoubling his stroke, cut also the ham on the right:[8] upon which Chasteneraye fell to the ground, and the other ran up to him, telling him that now his life was at his discretion, yet he would spare it if he would restore him his honour, and acknowledge his offence to God and the King. Chasteneraye answering nothing, Jarnac turned to the King, and, kneeling down, prayed that now he might be so happy as to be esteemed by him a man of honour; and, seeing his honour was restored, he would make his majesty a present of the other’s life, desiring his offence might be pardoned, and never more imputed to him or his, being the inconsiderate act of youth:[9] to which the King made no answer. The former returned to his antagonist, and finding him still upon the ground, lifted up his face and hands to Heaven, and said, Lord, I am not worthy; not to me, but unto thy name be thanks! having said this, he prayed Chasteneraye to confess his error: but, instead of this, the latter raised himself on his knee, and, having a sword and buckler in his hand, offered a pass at Jarnac, who told him that if he offered to resist any more he would kill him, and the other bid him do it; without, however, doing him any harm, Jarnac made a second humble address to the King to accept of Chasteneraye’s life, to which the King made no manner of reply.
“Whereupon Jarnac coming back to his antagonist, who was lying stretched out upon the ground, his sword out of his hand, and his dagger out of its sheath, he accosted him with the fair words of old friend and companion, entreated him to remember his Creator, and to let them become friends again. But he attempting to turn himself without the signs of repentance and submission, Jarnac took away his sword and dagger, and laid them at the King’s feet, with repeated supplications to interpose for Chasteneraye’s life; which the King at last was advised to do, and ordered some of the great officers to go to him, and surgeons to take care of his life; but he would not suffer his wounds to be dressed, being wearied of life because of his disgrace, and so died in a little time through the loss of blood. It being told the King that, according to custom, Jarnac should be carried in triumph, Jarnac protested against it, saying that he affected no ostentation or vain-glory, that he had been only desirous to have his honour restored, and was contented with that; upon which the King made him this compliment, that he fought like Cæsar, and spoke like Aristotle. Yet the King’s inclinations were towards Chasteneraye. The poor lady, Jarnac’s mother-in-law, whose honour was at stake too, was all the while at St. Cloud, fasting and praying, and waiting impatiently the issue of this purgation of her innocency.”
Chasteneraye was considered the first swordsman in France, and he certainly did display in this transaction a singular mixture of vanity and brutality. Brantôme, who was a nephew of Chasteneraye, endeavours to show that there was foul play in this meeting, and that Jarnac wore a brassart without joint, by which means the buckler was held with greater security; at the same time, he states that Chasteneraye’s right arm was still weak from a wound he had received at Conys, in Piedmont. Howbeit, this unfortunate young man, who was only in his twenty-eighth year, was considered such an expert fencer and wrestler, that several duels were fought when a report of this fatal duel had been spread abroad, as his partisans would not admit the possibility of his succumbing before any other combatant: his dexterity in wrestling was so great, that Jarnac, to avoid the chances of a struggle, had insisted that both parties should wear two daggers.
By way of retribution, the monarch expressed his royal pleasure that no further duels should be allowed: indeed, this duel may be considered the last judicial one that has been recorded in France; although Charles IX. did authorize a combat between Albert de Luignes, who had been accused of treasonable practices by Panier, a captain in the guards. The parties fought in presence of the King and his court, in the wood of Vincennes: Panier inflicted a severe wound on the head of his opponent, who fell upon his knee; his seconds ran to his rescue; but Luignes, recovering himself, gave him a mortal thrust through the body. Nor was this the only instance where this weak and savage prince had recourse to the swords of others to rid himself of an enemy; he employed a famed bravo of the name of Maugerel to fight for him, who was therefore called the King’s Killer; and it is well known that he instructed Villequen to seek a quarrel with Lignerolles, the favourite and confidant of the Duke d’Anjou, while they were out hunting, on which occasion Lignerolles was killed.
While such was the practice in France, and other parts of the continent of Europe, England was not exempt from similar scenes of cruelty and superstition, and it was only during the reign of our Henry III. that the trial by ordeal, or ordaly, was abolished, in 1219: for, although several historians have doubted the fact, there is great reason to believe, from the barbarous customs of the times, that Edward the Confessor did actually compel Emma, the Queen Dowager, to the ordeal of the heated ploughshares, on the charge of her having participated in the murder of Alfred, besides having been guilty of a criminal intercourse with the Bishop of Winchester; the prelate very wisely refused to submit himself to a similar trial, by producing a letter written by Pope Stephen VI. to the Archbishop of Mayence in 887, in which he prohibited such practices.
The personal combat that is said to have taken place between Edmund Ironside and Canute, near Gloucester, appears to be a fabulous tradition, although the following account of it has been chronicled: “Edmund had the advantage of stature and of strength, but Canute possessed most address and activity. The conflict which took place in the presence of both their armies, was long and doubtful, until the Dane, beginning to lose ground, proposed an amicable settlement of their differences, thus addressing his adversary: ‘Valiant prince, have we not fought for a sufficient length of time to prove our courage? Let us therefore show proofs of our moderation; and, since we have equally shared the sun and the honour of this day, let us quit the field of battle and share the kingdom.’” This is evidently a fiction of romance, although there is some reason to believe that a challenge might have passed between them. We may view with similar hesitation of belief other no less chivalric relations of that important battle, in which it is stated that Edwi having cut off the head of one Osmer, whose countenance bore a strong resemblance to that of Edmund, had it carried on a spear, calling out to the English that their sovereign was no more; when Edmund, observing the consternation of his troops, took off his helmet to prove the error under which they laboured. It appears more probable that both these princes were compelled to enter into an amicable treaty by their own nobility and their troops, when Canute reserved to himself the northern division, and Edmund retained the sovereignty of the southern provinces.
Doubting the truth of this hostile personal meeting, several writers, amongst others Selden, maintain that duels were not known in England until the Norman invasion, when it is recorded that William sent a message by certain monks to Harold, requiring him either to resign the kingdom, submit their cause to the arbitration of the Pope, or fight him in single combat, to which Harold replied, that the God of battles would soon be the arbiter of their differences.
It has been observed, that, had the practice of duelling on such occasions been prevalent, the English chief could not, consistently with the laws of honour as then understood, have refused the challenge. It is, moreover, certain that at this period single combats were common in Normandy and other provinces in France; and what renders it probable that duelling, to ascertain rights maintained by the trial of combat, was introduced on the Norman accession, was the entrance of a champion in the ceremonial of the coronation, to this day preserved, who, casting down the gauntlet of defiance, declares himself ready to meet any one who dares contest the sovereign’s right to the throne, and originally to the dukedom of Normandy.