The Columbia herald. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1850-1873, 1870-09-16

r The world is daily growing older ant
l wiser. Its institutions vary with III
{ years, and mark its growing wisdom
and none more so than its modes O.
, investigating truth, and ascertainine
, guilt or innocence. In its homage
r when the man was yet fallible being
and doubted the accuracy of his owl
intellect, appeals were made to heaven
in dark and doubtful cases of atrocious
accusation.
The accused was required to plunge
his hand in boiling oil, or to walk across
red-hot plOugh-shares, or to maintain
his innocence in armed fight and listed
field, in person or by champion. If he
passed these ordeals unscathed, he
stood acquitted, and the result was re-
garded as a verdict from on high.
1t is somewhat remarkable that, in
the gallant age of chivalry, the gentler
sex should have been most frequently
the subjects of these rude trials any per-
ilOus ordeals; and that, too, when as
sailed in their most delicate and vulner-
able part-their honor.
In the present very old and enlight-
ened age of the world, when the hu-
man intellect is perfectly competent to
the management of its own concerns,
and needs no special interposition of
heaven in its affairs, the trial by Jury
has superseded these superhuman Or
deals; and unanimity of twelve dis
cordant minds Is necessary to consti-
tute verdict. Such a unanimity
would, at first sight, appear also to re-
quire a miracle from heaven; but it is
produced by a simple device of human
ingenuity. The twelve jurors are lock-
ed up in in their box, there to fast un-
til abstinence shall have so clarified
their intellects that the whole jarring
panel can discern the truth, and con-
cur in unanimous decision. One
point is certain, that truth is one, and
is immutable-until the jurors all agree,
they cannot all he right.
1t Is not our intention however, to
discuss this great judicial point, or to
question the avOwed superiority of the
mode of investigating truth, adopted in
this antiquated and very sagaci0us era.
1t Is our object merely to exhibit to the
curious reader, one of the most memoir
able cases Ofjudicial combat We find in
the annals of Spain. 1t occurred at the
bright commencement of the reign,
and in the youthful, and, as vet, glOri-
GUS days of ROderick the Goth; who
subsequently tarnished his fame at
home by his misdeeds, and, finally,
lost his kingdom and his life Oh the
banks of the Gaudalete, in that disas-
trous battle, which gave up Spain
conquest to the Moors. The following
is the story:
There was, once upon time, a GER
tain duke of Lorraine, who was ac-
knowledged throughout his domains to
be one of the wisest princes that ever
lived. In fact, there was not any one
measure that he adopted that did not
astonish all his prlvy counsellors and
gentleman in attendance: and he said
so many witty things, and made such
sensible speeches, that his high cham
berlain had his jaws dislocated from
laughing with delight at the one, and
gaping with wonder at the other.
This very witty and exceedingly wise
potentate lived for half q century in
single blessedness, when his courtiers |
began to think it great pity so wise |
and wealthy prince should not have
q child after his own likeness, to in |
herit his talents and domains; SO they |
urged him most respectfully to marry, |
for the good of his estate, and the well |
fare of his subjects.
He turned their advice over i'm his |
mind some four or five years, and then
sending emissaries to all parts, he |
summoned to his court all the beautiful |
maidens in the land who were anbi-
tious of sharing ducal crown. The
court was soon crowded with beauties
of all styles and complexions, from
among whom he chose one in the ear
liest budding of her charms, and ac-
knowledged by all the gentlemen to be
unparallel for grace and lOveliness. The |
courtiers extOlled the duke to the skies |
for making such choice, and consid-
cred it another proof of his great Wis
dom. 1.-The duke" said they, ais
waxing little too old; the damsel, on
the other hand, is little too young if
one is lacking in years, the other has a
superabundance; thus want on one
side is balanced by an excess on the
other, and the result is a well-assorted
marriage"
The duke, as is often the case with
wise men, who marry rather late, and
take damsels rather youthful to their
bosoms, became doatingly fond of his
wife, and INDUCED her in all things.
He was, consequently, cried up by his
subjects in general, AMI by the ladies
in particular, as a pattern for husbands;
and, in the end, from the wonderful
docility with which he submitted to be
reined and checked, acquired the amia-
Philibert the wife-ridden.
There was only one thing that dis
turbed the conjugal felicity of this par
agon of husbands: though consider
able time elapsed after his marriage, he
still remained without any prospect of
an heir. The good duke left no means
untried to propitiate heaven; he made
vows and pilgrimages, he tasted and
prayed, but all to no purpose. The
cOurtiers were all astOnished at the cir
cumstance. They could not account
for it. While the meanest peasant in
the country had sturdy brats by dozens,
without putting up prayer, the duke
wore himself to skin and bone with
penances and fastings, yet seemed far
ther of from his object than ever.
At length, the worthy prince fell
dangerously i'll, and felt his end ap-
preaching. He looked with sorrowful
eyes upon his young and tender spouse,
who hung over him with tears and
sobbings. "Alasv said he tears are
soon dried from youthful eyes, and sOr-
row lies lightly on youthful heart.
In a little while / shall be no more, and
in the arms of another husband thou
wilt forget him who has loved thee so
tenderly."
"Never! neverw cried the duchess.
"Never will cleave to another! Alas,
that my lord should think Inc capable
of such Inconsistency
The worthy and wife-ridden duke
was st.othed by her assurances; for he
could not endure the thought of giving
her up even after he should be dead.
Still he wished to have some pledge of
her enduring constancy.
'Far he it from me, my dearest wife,"
said he, "to control thee through long
life. A year and day of strict fidel-
ity will appease my troubled spirit.
Promise to remain faithful to my MEM
ory for a year and day, and ! will
die in peace.",
The duchess made solemn VOW to
that effect. The uXorious feelings OF
the duke were not yet satisfied. "Safe
bind, safe find," thought he; so he
made will, in which he bequeathed
to her all his domains, on condition of
her remaining true to him for year
and day after his decease; but should
it appear that, within that time, she
had in any wise lapsed from her fidelity
the inheritance shouldgo to bis nephew
the lord of a neighboring territory.
Having made his will, thegood duke
died and was buried. Scarcely was he