Any formal discussion of the morality of duelling is, in England at least, happily superfluous. No fashionable vice has been so unanimously condemned both by moralists and divines, and in tracing its history we are reminded Modern views. of the words of Tacitus, “in civitate nostra et vetabitur semper et retinebitur.” Some, however, of the problems, moral and social, which it suggests may be shortly noticed. That duelling flourished so long in England the law is, perhaps, as much to blame as society. It was doubtless from the fact that duels were at first a form of legal procedure that English law has refused to take cognizance of private duels. A duel in the eye of the law differs nothing from an ordinary murder. The greatest English legal authorities, from the time of Elizabeth downwards, such as Coke, Bacon and Hale, have all distinctly affirmed this interpretation of the law. But here as elsewhere the severity of the penalty defeated its own object. The public conscience revolted against a Draconian code which made no distinction between wilful murder and a deadly combat wherein each party consented to his own death or submitted to the risk of it. No jury could be found to convict when conviction involved in the same penalty a Fox or a Pitt and a Turpin or a Brownrigg. Such, however, was the conservatism of English publicists that Bentham was the first to point out clearly this defect of the law, and propose a remedy. In his Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation, published in 1789, Bentham discusses the subject with his usual boldness and logical precision. In his exposition of the absurdity of duelling considered as a branch of penal justice, and its inefficiency as a punishment, he only restates in a clearer form the arguments of Paley. So far there is nothing novel in his treatment of the subject. But he soon parts company with the Christian moralist, and proceeds to show that duelling does, however rudely and imperfectly, correct and repress a real social evil. “It entirely effaces a blot which an insult imprints upon the honour. Vulgar moralists, by condemning public opinion upon this point, only confirm the fact.” He then points out the true remedy for the evil. It is to extend the same legal protection to offences against honour as to offences against the person. The legal satisfactions which he suggests are some of them extremely grotesque. Thus for an insult to a woman, the man is to be dressed in a woman’s clothes, and the retort to be inflicted by the hand of a woman. But the principle indicated is a sound one, that in offences against honour the punishment must be analogous to the injury. Doubtless, if Bentham were now alive, he would allow that the necessity for such a scheme of legislation had in a great measure passed away. That duels have since become extinct is no doubt principally owing to social changes, but it may be in part ascribed to improvements in legal remedies in the sense which Bentham indicated. A notable instance is Lord Campbell’s Act of 1843, by which, in the case of a newspaper libel, a public apology coupled with a pecuniary payment is allowed to bar a plea. In the Indian Code there are special enactments concerning duelling, which is punishable not as murder but as homicide.
Suggestions have from time to time been made for the establishment of courts of honour, but the need of such tribunals is doubtful, while the objections to them are obvious. The present tendency of political philosophy is to contract rather than extend the province of law, and any interference with social life is justly resented. Real offences against reputation are sufficiently punished, and the rule of the lawyers, that mere scurrility or opprobrious words, which neither of themselves import nor are attended with any hurtful effects, are not punishable, seems on the whole a wise one. What in a higher rank is looked upon as a gross insult may in a lower rank be regarded as a mere pleasantry or a harmless joke. Among the lower orders offences against honour can hardly be said to exist; the learned professions have each its own tribunal to which its members are amenable; and the highest ranks of society, however imperfect their standard of morality may be, are perfectly competent to enforce that standard by means of social penalties without resorting either to trial by law or trial by battle.
The duel, which in a barbarous age may be excused as “a sort of wild justice,” was condemned by Bacon as “a direct affront of law and tending to the dissolution of magistracy.” It survived in more civilized times as a class distinction and as an ultimate court of appeal to punish violations of the social code. In a democratic age and under a settled government it is doomed to extinction. The military duels of the European continent, and the so-called American duel, where the lot decides which of the two parties shall end his life, are singular survivals. For real offences against reputation law will provide a sufficient remedy The learned professions will have each its own tribunal to which its members are amenable. Social stigma is at once a surer and a juster defence against conduct unworthy of a gentleman. Yet the duel dies hard, and even to-day it is approved or palliated by some notable publicists and professors in France and Germany. M.H. Marion (La Grande Encyclopédie), in an article strongly condemnatory of duels, still holds that the wrongdoer is bound to accept a challenge, though he may not take the offensive, and further allows that obligatory duels may be the only way of evoking a sense of honour and of maintaining discipline in the army. Dr Paulsen goes much further, and not only defends the duels of university students (Mensuren) as an encouragement of physical exercise, a proof of courage and a protest of worth against wealth, but maintains generally that the duel should be retained as an expedient in those exceptional cases when a man cannot bring himself to drag before a law court the outrage done to his personal honour. But in such cases Dr Paulsen would have the courts hold the injured person scathless, whether he be challenger or challenged, and visit the aggressor with condign punishment.
Bibliography.—Castillo, Tractatus de duello (Turin, 1525); J.P. Pigna, Il Duello (1554); Muzio Girolamo, Traité du duel (Venice, 1553): Boyssat, Recherches sur les duels (Lyons, 1610); J. Savaron, Traité contre les duels (Paris, 1610); Brantôme, Mémoire sur les duels rodomontades; F. Bacon, Charge concerning Duels, &c. (1614); d’Audiguier, Le Vray et ancien usage des duels (Paris, 1617); His Majesties Edict and severe Censure against private combats (London, 1618); Cockburn, History of Duels (London, 1720); Brillat Savarin, Essai sur le duel (1819); Châteauvillard, Essai sur le duel (1836); Colombey, Histoire anecdotique du duel (Paris); Fourgeroux de Champigneules, Histoire des duels anciens et modernes (2 vols., Paris, 1835-1837); Millingen, History of Duelling (London, 1841); L. Sabine, Notes on Duels (Boston, 1855); Steinmetz, Romance of Duelling (London, 1868). See also Eugène Cauchy, Du duel, &c. (1846), a learned and philosophic treatise by a French lawyer; G. Letainturier-Fradin, Le Duel à travers les âges (Paris, 1892); Mackay, History of Popular Delusions, Duels and Ordeals; and for a valuable list of authorities, Buckle, History of Civilization in England, ii. 137, note 71. For judicial combats see Gibbon, Decline and Fall, ch. xxxviii. For courts of honour see Armed Strength of the German Empire (1876). For Mensur, see Paulsen, The German Universities (1906), ch. vi.
(F. S.)
[1] Voltaire met the chevalier Rohan-Chabot at the house of the Marquis of Sully. The chevalier, offended by Voltaire’s free speech, insolently asked the marquis, “Who is that young man?” “One,” replied Voltaire, “who if he does not parade a great name, honours that he bears.” The chevalier said nothing at the time, but, seizing his opportunity, inveigled Voltaire into his coach, and had him beaten by six of his footmen. Voltaire set to work to learn fencing, and then sought the chevalier in the theatre, and publicly challenged him. A bon-mot at the chevalier’s expense was the only satisfaction that the philosopher could obtain. “Monsieur, si quelque affaire d’intérêt ne vous a point fait oublier l’outrage dont j’ai à me plaindre, j’espère que vous m’en rendrez raison.” The chevalier was said to employ his capital in petty usury.
DUENNA (Span. dueña, a married lady or mistress, Lat. domina), specifically the chief lady-in-waiting upon the queen of Spain. The word is more widely applied, however, to an elderly lady in Spanish and Portuguese households (holding a position midway between a governess and companion) appointed to take charge of the young girls of the family; and “duenna” is thus used in English as a synonym for chaperon (q.v.).