The early annals of Germany afford many curious instances of trials by ordeal; but, perhaps, one of the most romantic was in the case of Maria of Aragon, consort of Otho III, and the Messalina of her time. It is related of her, that she generally went abroad with a youth disguised in female attire, who was afterwards buried alive. Having become desperately enamoured of a count of Modena, who rejected her addresses, she accused him with having attempted to seduce her. The count was allowed to prove his innocence by the trial of battle; but, having been vanquished, was sentenced to lose his head. Prior to his execution he acquainted his wife with the particulars of his unfortunate case, and enjoined her to avenge his death. She, faithful to his last request, took the bloody head, and, placing it under the cloak of one of her followers, proceeded to the court; then, presenting the gory head to the sovereign, she demanded justice. Otho, struck with horror at the appalling sight, asked her what she wanted, and of whom she had to complain. “Of you, Cæsar,” was her reply; “you behold the result of a most iniquitous deed, and I am ready to submit myself to the ordeal of fire, to prove the innocence of my unfortunate husband.” The Emperor consented, and a brazier with a red-hot iron bar was brought forward. The tradition states that the countess seized the iron without dismay or injury; when, addressing the Emperor, she demanded his head, since he had been found guilty of the death of an innocent man. The prince, however, as might be expected, demurred at this proposal, but ordered his guilty wife to be burned alive; a sentence that was carried into execution at Modena, in 998. The Empress of Henry II, the beautiful Cunegonde, was equally fortunate in handling red-hot bars of iron when accused of having been criminally connected with the devil, who was seen coming out of her bed-chamber every morning. Baronius, in his Ecclesiastic Annals, asserts that she handled the burning metal like a nosegay. Gunehilde, wife of Henry III, and daughter of our Canute, was also very lucky in the choice of a champion when basely accused of infidelity. Her accuser was a gigantic man of the name of Rodinger; but she selected for her defender a little boy, whom she had brought from England, and who miraculously cut the hamstrings of his colossal antagonist.

Amongst the curious records of these barbarous and fabulous times, an edict of Frederick II. forbade his nobles from fighting, plundering travellers, and circulating base coin, which had been considered a privilege of feodality; and in his Sicilian and Neapolitan constitution he exempted his subjects from the necessity of accepting a challenge.

In more modern times, various enactments, called duell mandates, have forbidden duels. In 1779, one was issued in Bavaria, which punished a challenge with the loss of office, if the parties held a public situation; if otherwise, with a confiscation of property, and an imprisonment of three years: but, when a duel had actually taken place, the parties were condemned to death.

In the Austrian states, by an edict of 1803, a duel is punished by an imprisonment of from one year to five: if one of the parties is wounded, the confinement is from five to ten years; and, when death ensues, from ten to twenty; and the remains of the deceased are not allowed sepulture in consecrated ground. The seconds are also subject to an incarceration of from one to five years. A penal code somewhat similar exists in Prussia.

An anecdote is related of Joseph II, who, having been informed that one of his officers had slapped the face of another, sent for both parties. The following day, on parade, the Emperor appeared on the balcony of his palace with the offended person, whom he cordially embraced; at the same time, a scaffold was erected, on which the public executioner slapped the face of the offender, who was afterwards conveyed to a fortress.

The following letter from this monarch, exhibits the sentiments he entertained on the practice of duelling.

“General,

“I desire you to arrest Count K—— and Captain W—— immediately. The count is of an imperious character, proud of his birth, and full of false ideas of honour. Captain W——, who is an old soldier, thinks of settling everything by the sword or the pistol. He has done wrong in accepting a challenge from the count. I will not suffer the practice of duelling in my army; and I despise the arguments of those who seek to justify it. I have a high esteem for officers who expose themselves courageously to the enemy, and who, on all occasions, show themselves intrepid, valiant, and determined in attack as well as in defence. The indifference with which they face death is honourable to themselves and useful to their country; but there are men ready to sacrifice everything to a spirit of revenge and hatred. I despise them. Such men, in my opinion, are worse than the Roman gladiators. Let a council of war be summoned to try these two officers, with all the impartiality which I demand from every judge; and let the most culpable of the two be made an example by the rigour of the law. I am resolved that this barbarous custom, which is worthy of the age of Tamerlane and Bajazet, and which is so often fatal to the peace of families, shall be punished and suppressed, though it should cost me half my officers. There will be still left men who can unite bravery with the duties of faithful subjects. I wish for none who do not respect the laws of the country.

“Joseph.”

“Vienna, August 1771.”