Soon after, the bloody disputes between the Guelphs and the Ghibelins afforded numerous opportunities for personal rencontres, when the parties did not meet in battle array; but it is manifest, that at all times Italian duels were attended with circumstances of ferocity and treachery; and to avoid publicity, these meetings frequently took place behind hedges and ditches, and in woods and solitary places; hence the practice was called combatere à la mazza.

It appears that the practice bringing in seconds and witnesses, who were to share the dangers of the principals, originated in Italy. Brantôme relates the story of a Neapolitan gentleman who, being called out, killed his antagonist; he was about leaving the field, when the second of the deceased stopped him, and observed that he could not allow him to depart until he had avenged his fallen friend. To this proposal the gentleman very politely acceded, and killed him. Another witness then stepped forward, and with much courtesy said, that if he did not feel himself tired, he would be delighted to have a share in the honour; and proposed, if fatigued, to postpone the meeting until the following day. The gentleman was too urbane to disappoint him, and replied, that he did not feel in the least tired; and as he was warm, and his hand in, they might as well lose no time in gratifying his fancy; in a few lounges the amateur’s corpse was stretched by the side of his two departed friends.

Brantôme makes the following remarks on this practice:—“I have heard much talk on this matter, and have been informed by great Italian captains, that they were the founders of these fights and their punctilios, which were well known theoretically and practically. The Spaniards resemble them, but are not so proficient in the art, which now-a-days our Frenchmen practise in perfection. The Italians are a little more cool and advised in this business than we are, and somewhat more cruel. They have given as an instruction to those who feel disposed to grant or to spare their adversary’s life, the glorious opportunity of showing their generosity, by maiming their fallen foe, both in his legs and arms, and moreover giving him a desperate cut across the nose and face, to remind him of their condescension and humanity.”

Most of the celebrated fencing-masters were Italians; and Brantôme states, that Jarnac, previous to his fatal duel with La Chastaigneraye, had taken lessons from an Italian captain, named Caise, who had taught him the hamstring cut. These professors, it appears, were not very particular in regard to the means employed to kill their man, which they recommended to be done in ogni modo. Our pugnacious historian farther relates that, when he was at Milan, he took fencing lessons for a month, under a celebrated master, named Trappe; and during this period not a day passed but he witnessed at least twenty quadrilles of persons fighting in the streets, and leaving the dead bodies of their adversaries on the pavement. There were numerous bravoes who let themselves out to hire, to fight for those who did not feel disposed to risk their own lives. The same practice prevailed in Spain. This mode of fighting constituted the famed Vendetta; and the hired combatants were called Bandeleri.

The practice of these scientific assassins appears to have been singular; and we find Lampugnano, previous to his murdering Galeas Maria Sforza, getting a portrait of his victim painted, and exercising himself in stabbing it in various parts, until he found himself sufficiently dexterous to kill him in church with seven mortal stabs.

In 1528, four Florentines fought in presence of the Prince of Orange, when one of the combatants summoned his antagonist whom he had overthrown to surrender; but the prostrate champion exclaimed, “I surrender to the Prince!” “There is no other prince here but myself,” replied his adversary; and with a dagger at his throat he compelled him to submit.

In the expedition of the Duke de Guise, in 1557, under Henri II, a duel was fought at Ferrara, in presence of the Duke Hercules d’Este, and his brother the cardinal, in a hall of the palace, which was lighted up with torches on the occasion.

The Prince of Melfe Caraccioli, who commanded the forces of Francis I. from 1545 to 1550, issued many orders to check the practice of duelling: one of them was to compel duellists to fight upon the parapet of the bridge of Turin, so that the combatant who lost his equilibrium, ran a fair chance of being drowned.

The Italian princes not unfrequently were engaged in murderous quarrels, although it is related of Humbert II, the dauphin of Viennois, that on receiving a challenge from Amédée, Count of Savoy, he sent the following reply to his herald:—“My friend, tell your master, that the virtues of a prince do not lie in corporeal strength; but that if he is desirous of displaying his prowess, I have not a bull in my possession that is not stronger than he is; if he wishes to ascertain the fact, I shall have great pleasure in sending him one of the fiercest.”

The town of Ostuni, in 1664, was rendered remarkable by one of the most deadly family feuds recorded, and an extraordinary duel, in which every principle of honour was violated. The Count de Conversano, called also Duke de le Noci, of the family of Aquaviva, and the Prince of Francavilla, of that of Imperiali, were the two most powerful lords in Lower Apulia: the former boasted of his ancient descent and his numerous titles, and numbered among his predecessors a succession of nobles, whose tyrannical and violent disposition had designated them as a race dreaded by their inferiors, and hated by their equals. The Prince of Francavilla was of Genoese extraction, but his family had been settled in the kingdom from the time of Charles V, and he emulated the count in pride, while he surpassed him in wealth. Their territories joined, and the constant litigations arising out of their inordinate and ill-timed jurisdictions were thereby superadded to the long lists of mutual injuries recorded by both families. Their animosity broke out at Naples, on some trifling occasion, when they were both in their carriages; and, after a long contest of words, the Count de Conversano challenged the Prince of Francavilla to decide their differences by the sword: the latter declined this mode of combat as ill-suited to his age and infirmities, but consented to a duel if the arms might be exchanged for pistols. His antagonist, who was esteemed the best swordsman in the kingdom, insisted on his first proposal, and excited the prince to accede to it, by striking him repeatedly with the flat of his sword. An insult so grossly offered in the public streets, authorized the government to check the consequences likely to arise, by ordering both parties to retire to their respective estates. A short time after, the Prince of Francavilla, thirsting for a just revenge, proposed a champion to espouse his cause in the person of his nephew, the Duke de Martina, of the house of Caraccioli. This young man was but just returned from his travels, and his education had not been completed; it was therefore agreed, that a year should elapse previous to the final settlement of the dispute, and the field of battle was fixed at Ostuni, the jurisdiction of which had been previously claimed and disputed by both noblemen. The eyes of the whole kingdom were directed with anxious and fearful expectation towards this spot; but the wishes of the majority were in favour of the Duke de Martina, whose youth, accomplishments, and amiable disposition, called forth the interest of all ranks. His uncle, actuated more by fear of the shame attendant on defeat, than by feelings of affection for his relative, endeavoured to ensure success by the following stratagem:—A gentleman who had been for some time, as was the custom in those days, a retainer in his family, left it abruptly one night, and repaired to the Count de Conversano’s castle, into which he gained admission by a recital of injurious treatment and fictitious wrongs heaped upon him by the tyrannical and arbitrary temper of the Prince de Francavilla. A complaint of this nature was always a recommendation to the count’s favour and good graces; and he not only admitted the gentleman into the full enjoyment of his princely hospitality, but having found that he was an experienced and dexterous swordsman, passed most of his time in practising with him that art which he hoped would soon ensure his triumph over his youthful adversary.