DUEL, a combat between two persons. To distinguish it from the unpremeditated combat or rencontre, it must take place at a time and place appointed in consequence of a cartel or challenge, and generally in presence of two or more witnesses or umpires.

The word is derived from duellum, used by the barbarous Latin writers quasi duorum bellum ; and, as a judicial trial, it has been defined “singularis pugnus inter duos ad probandum litem, et qui viciţ probâsse intelligitur.” (Fleta.')

The origin of duelling may be traced to that barbarous state of society in which personal courage was followed as the ruling principle, and esteemed as the noblest ornament, of life. Under the influence of such principles, the considerations of justice and humanity were little regarded; and patience under injuries being branded as infamous and cowardly, men were naturally impelled, not only to avenge their own wrongs, but to gratify their private resentments, at the point of the sword.

Before the dawn of Christianity had thrown its light upon the interesting doctrine of a providence superintending the affairs of men, the belief of an adequate distribution of rewards and punishments in the present life seems to have been generally received. The rich, the prosperous, and the happy, were apt to be considered as the peculiar favourites of Heaven; whilst disease, misfortune, and sudden or violent death, were regarded as the inflictions of divine vengeance on the crimes of the sufferers. Hence, in a superstitious age, arose the practice of making a direct appeal to the deity in the single combat, under the persuasion that the justice of Heaven would infallibly declare for the innocent, and visit the perjured and the guilty with dishonour and death.

The duel, as a judicial trial, prevailed at an early period amongst the Germans, Danes, and Franks; and by a law instituted in 501, by Gondeband, king of Burgundy, it was allowed in legal proceedings in lieu of swearing.,

Louis le Débonnaire was the first French monarch who permitted to litigants the trial by arms; and the same mode of trial was introduced into England, with other Norman customs, by William the Conqueror. It was only used, however, in three cases; in the court martial or court of chivalry, in appeals of felony, and in civil cases upon issue joined in a writ of right; in which last it was the only decision, until Henry IL, with consent of parliament, introduced the grand assize. None were exempt from the trial by battle but females, the sick and the maimed, and persons under fifteen or above sixty years of age; ecclesiastics, priests, and monks, being allowed to produce champions in their stead.

The trial by battle, however, soon degenerated into a convenient pretext for gratifying private revenge under sanction of the law, or on pretence of discovering truth and punishing perjury. Under the feudal system it was of course warmly patronized, being but too congenial with the feelings and habits of the fierce and haughty barons, who, uncontrolled by any principles of law or religion, disdained to submit their differences to any arbitration, or to seek any reparation for an injury but by the sword. Arms were the sport, plunder and revenge the business, of their lives. And to such a height did the evils arising from their private quarrels and petty warfare increase, that it became necessary to adopt some means for controlling and directing the torrent of military violence, which threatened to sweep away every feeling of justice and humanity, and subject the peace and comfort of the community to the unrestrained passions of a fierce and lawless aristocracy. Martial societies were accordingly instituted, whose duty it was to protect the weak and defenceless, to relieve the oppressed, to correct abuses, and to promote the public good.

Hence arose chivalry and knight-errantry, which, although they modified in some degree the evil of duelling, by imposing a minute and punctilious system of observances, had yet a tendency to perpetuate the practice, by instituting those false and fantastic principles of honour, the evils of which are still felt in the modern duel. With the code of punctilious regulations, the grounds and motives of the duel were changed and extended. Malice and revenge gave place to the gratification of personal vanity, and the desire of that renown for deeds of arms which was considered as the glory of the age. Tilts and tournaments were the pastime of the nobles, and were not only countenanced by the presence of the prince, who not unfrequently shared the dangers of the field, but graced by the attendance of female beauty and distinction, from whose hands the successful champion received the prize of his achievements, and at whose feet he longed to lay the trophies of his victory. jSee Chivalry.

The tournament continued in high estimation, notwithstanding the many valuable lives sacrificed on the most frivolous occasions, until the middle of the sixteenth century, when the death of Henry II. of France, in a tournament given in honour of his sister’s marriage, gave a check to these sanguinary amusements. At this entertainment Henry sent his lance to Count Montgomerie, the captain of his guards, who at first declined the challenge; but on the king repeating his commands, he was compelled to obey. At the encounter, Montgomerie purposely broke his lance against the king’s breastplate; but unhappily for the monarch he wore his helmet open, and a splinter of the lance flying up into his eye, pierced his brain. He survived for about a month in great agony, and died on the 10th July 1559. (Cockburn on Duels.)

In no country has the duel on private and personal quarrels prevailed to so great an extent as in France. Francis I. encouraged the practice by his well-known determination “that the lie was never to be borne without satisfaction but by a base-born fellow.” By his challenge to the Emperor Charles V. he set an example which his high-minded nobles were but too eager to follow; and under the countenance of their monarch their native propensity to the single combat was indulged to an extent which all the power of his successors was scarcely able to control.

The power of the church was frequently exerted to restrain these bloody proceedings, especially by a council at Valentia in 855, and lastly by the council of Trent, session XXV. chap. 19, which excommunicated not only the combatants, but their associates, and even the spectators of the battle; declaring the custom to be detestable, introduced by Satan for the destruction both of body and soul. It adds, that “all advisers, supporters, witnesses, orthose in any way concerned, are likewise excommunicated. Princes also who connive at duels are to be deprived of all temporal power, jurisdiction, and dominion over the places where they have permitted duels to be fought.”

Philip the Fair, at the close of the thirteenth century, forbade all gages or pledges of battle; but this prohibition was afterwards relaxed in several instances, and in 1306 a royal ordonnance was published, prescribing rules, conditions, and ceremonies for the combat.

In the reign of Henry II. a noted duel was fought in the king’s presence between Guy Chabot de Jarnac and Francis de la Chastaignerie, in which the latter was slain; and on this occasion Henry is said to have taken an oath never to allow another during his reign. An edict was published accordingly; but this, which appears to have been the first royal prohibition of the duel, was productive[7:8:253] of no good effects. The prohibition indeed arose rather from the king’s grief for the loss of his friend Chastaignerie than from any desire on public grounds to abolish the custom; and it appears rather to have aggravated the evil, by increasing the number of private duels: for the same punctilious notions of honour from which the duel generally originated, and the same dread of the imputation of cowardice which kept it alive, were still entertained; and as the royal permission, without which the duel had formerly been high treason, could not now be obtained, each man became the judge in his own cause; and in those delicate cases, of which the law could take no cognizance, the point of honour was more likely to be stretched than curtailed.

The parliament of Paris in 1599 declared all persons who had assisted or been present at the prosecution of these unlawful quarrels to be rebels to the king, transgressors of the laws, and disturbers of the public peace.

Henry IV., during the first eighteen years of whose reign no less than four thousand gentlemen are said to have perished by the duel, alludes in his edict at Blois, 1602, to the disorders arising from this barbarous custom; and in 1609 he added to the penalties already imposed, punishment by death, confiseation of goods, fines, imprisonment, and degradation from honour, on all who were in any way concerned in these combats, not only principals and seconds, or bearers of challenges, but spectators, and even those who, being accidentally present, did not interfere to prevent bloodshed. The severity of these edicts might have contributed greatly to diminish the evil; but unfortunately they arose rather from the complaints of the people, and the persuasions of the Duke of Sully, than from any desire on the part of Henry himself to abolish a custom for which he privately entertained a great partiality, as was evident from the readiness with which he granted pardons to offenders, and even privately encouraged particular duels. He readily gave permission to Crequi to fight Don Philip of Savoy, and even added this encouraging compliment, “If I were not a king I would gladly offer myself to be your second.”

It was not be expected that laws, however severe, the open violation of which was thus countenanced by the monarch himself, could be productive of any beneficial effects; and we find the passion for the single combat continuing unabated during the reign of the succeeding monarch Louis XIII. To such extent indeed did it prevail, that the common inquiry when acquaintances met was not, “what is the news to-day,” but “who fought yesterday;” and Lord Herbert, who was ambassador at the court of Louis, says, that “there is scarce a Frenchman worth looking on who has not killed his man in a duel.”

Two noblemen, however, Montmorellei count de Boutte-ville, the most renowned duellist of the day, and the Marquis de Beuoron, persisting to fight in defiance of the royal interdict, were tried according to law, and both beheaded. This execution caused for a time a cessation of the sanguinary custom; but it was reserved for Louis XIV. to give the first effectual check to the continuance of the practice.

During the minority of this prince a very desperate battle was fought between the Dukes de Beaufort and de Nemours, each attended by four friends. The seconds of the Duke de Nemours were the Marquis de Villars, the Chevalier de la Chaise, D’Uzerches, and Compan; and the Duke de Beaufort was attended by D’Henricort, De Ris, Buri, and Brillet. They fought five against five, with swords arid pistols. Nemours was shot by Beaufort, the Marquis de Villars killed D’Henricort, and D’Uzerches slew De Ris: the rest were only slightly wounded.

This, with another desperate encounter fought in 1663, four against four, determined the king on taking some decided step to prevent the recurrence of such disgraceful and bloody quarrels. The famous edict published in 1679, with the solemn agreement entered into by the principal nobility, “that they would never fight a duel on any pretence whatever,” and the firmness of Louis in refusing pardon to all offenders, contributed more to restrain this unhappy propensity than all the efforts of his predecessors.

The practice of duelling in England, although it never prevailed to such an extent as in France, may be traced to the same causes which gave rise to it on the Continent. The duel, as we have already mentioned, was early in use amongst the Franks and Normans, and was probably by them introduced into England.

One of the latest instances of the trial by battle occurred in the reign of Elizabeth in the year 1571, of which Sir Henry Spelman, who was eye-witness, gives an account of the whole proceedings, which were conducted, he says, “non sine magna jurisconsultorum perturbatione.” A proceeding having been instituted in the Court of Common Pleas, for recovery of some manorial rights in the Isle of Hartic, Kent, the defendant offered to maintain his right to possession by the duel. The petitioners accepted the challenge, and as the court does not appear to have had the power of refusal, champions were appointed, and all the requisite forms adjusted. The queen, to prevent bloodshed, had commanded the parties to compromise; but, anxious at once to save the credit of the defendant, who demanded the combat, and to support the authority of the law, which enjoined its being fulfilled, the ceremony of the duel was allowed to proceed. On the appointed day the justices of the common pleas and the counsellors appeared at Tothil Fields as umpires of the combat; but as the petitioners did not appear to acknowledge their champion, they were nonsuited, and victory declared for the defendant. Thus ended the last judicial combat we read of in a civil case. Another, however, occurred in the court of chivalry in 1631, and in the county palatine of Durham in 1638; and the trial by battle was claimed so late as 1818, in the ease of Thornton v. Ashford, in an appeal of murder.

But although the duel was disused in judicial proceedings, the tantastie notions of honour to which it gave rise still prevailed; and as the law could take∙no cognizance of points of honour and personal affronts, private duelling rather increased in the reigns of Elizabeth and James 1.

During the civil wars the minds of men were too much occupied with the agitating events of the time to pay much attention to the settlement of points of etiquette; and as the contest was between the commonalty and all that was royal and noble in the land, private feuds were forgotten, and those who would have turned their swords against each other in private quarrel, disdained to employ them in such a cause against men of mean birth and ignoble sentiment.

The custom, however, again gained ground after the restoration of Charles II.; and although he did issue a proclamation to put the existing laws in force, this object was defeated by his great laxity in pardoning offenders.

In consequence of a duel between the Duke of Hamilton and Lord Mohura in 1712, which was fought with the greatest ferocity and apparent determination of murder, and in which both parties were killed, the subject again came under the consideration of government. At the meeting of parliament in the following year, the queen’s speech alluded to the subject in this sentence: “thepra-tice of duelling requires some speedy and effectual remedy.” No preeise notice was taken of this part of the [7:8:254]speech in the address from the House of Commons; and a bill which was brought in for the more effectual restraint of the duel was thrown out on a second reading.

Since the fashion of wearing the sword has been abandoned, private duels have become less frequent in this country, and we have not now to deplore the numerous and often fatal rencontres which, during the last century, were so frequently begun and concluded in the moment and heat of passion, and not seldom on the most frivolous occasions. Such was the duel between Lord Byron and Mr Chaworth in 1765, which originated in a dispute during dinner about the quantity of game on their respective manors. The parties retired to an adjoining room, where they fought by the uncertain light of one small tallow candle, and Mr Chaworth, although the more expert swordsman, was mortally wounded.

By the laws of this country all the parties concerned in a duel which terminates fatally are guilty of murder, however fairly the combat may have been conducted, and however great the provocation.

The suddenness of the provocation, and the agitation of excited feelings, which in other cases may be pled in extenuation of the crime, cannot be urged in favour of those who, after ample time for deliberation, meet for the avowed purpose of murder. It is seldom indeed that the extreme penalty is inflicted, except in cases where unfair advantage has been taken, or which are otherwise attended with peculiar aggravation.

The duel between Major Campbell and Captain Boyd, for which the former was executed in 1808, is well known, and was considered as little better than deliberate assassination. But in the case of Lieutenant Blundell, who was killed in a duel at Carisbrooke Castle, in the Isle of Wight, in 1813, every thing appears to have been conducted with perfect fairness; yet the surviving principal, the seconds, and two others who were considered accessary, were convicted of murder at the Hampshire assizes, and sentenced to death; and although the royal pardon was obtained, they were all dismissed from his majesty’s service.

Foster expresses the following opinion: “Deliberate duelling, if death ensueth, is in the eye of the law murder. For duels are generally founded on deep revenge. And though a person should be drawn into a duel, not upon a motive so criminal, but merely upon a punctilio of what swordsmen falsely call honour, that will not excuse. For he that deliberately sheddeth the blood of another, upon a private quarrel, acteth in defiance of all laws, human and divine, whatever his motive may be.” And Judge Blackstone: “When both parties meet avowedly with an intent to murder, thinking it their duty as gentlemen, and claiming it as their right, to wanton with their own lives, and those of their fellow-creatures, without any warrant or authority from any power either divine or human, but in direct contradiction to the laws both of God and man, the law has justly fixed the crime and punishment of murder on them, and on their seconds also."

In a moral point of view the practice admits of no defence, for the very principle on which the duellist proceeds is one which, if universally adopted, would be subversive of all good order, namely, that an individual may be the judge of his own cause, and the avenger of his own wrongs. The legislature has provided a reparation for all those injuries which the wisdom of legislators has thought it reasonable to redress; and for an individual, or body of individuals, to adopt a law for the regulation of their own conduct, differing in spirit and opposed in principle to the laws of the country, is alike inconsistent with sound moral and political philosophy. Such is the law of honour, as it is called, a law by which no wise or sober-minded man would desire to regulate his life: it prescribes none,of those duties which we owe to God as his creatures, it admits or connives at many direct violations of his laws, and it imposes no restraint on that indulgence of the sensual 1 passions, which is degrading to human nature, injurious to society, and opposed to all that is really good and honourable in the character of man. But unfortunately “the law of honour having annexed the imputation of cowardice to patience under an affront, challenges are given and accepted with no other design than to prevent or wipe off this suspicion, and without any other concern than to preserve the duellist’s own reputation and reception in the world.”

Every man of experience in the world must be convinced of the truth of this remark. And it is not one of the least evils of this system, that the word honour·, which, rightly understood, denotes all that is truly noble and virtuous, should be prostituted as a pretext for gratifying the most malignant of human passions, or as a cover for that moral cowardice, the fear of being thought afraid.

“Duels,” says Sir George Mackenzie, “are but illustrious murders. It is an imperious crime, which triumphs both over public revenge and private virtue, and tramples boldly upon the laws of the nation and the life of our enemy. Courage thinks law here to be but pedantry, and honour persuades men that obedience here is cowardice.” It has been the aim of every moral writer to expose the folly, and of every wise legislature to check the prevalence, of this pernicious practice; yet so powerful is the domineering influence of fashion, that a custom originating in barbarism, and cherished only by pride and selfishness, has for ages stood its ground against all the arguments of reason and religion. Its prevalence is indeed abated in our country, and it is to be hoped there are not many men in the present day who fight for the mere gratification of revenge; but it is to be feared that there are not a few who, condemning the custom in their hearts, are yet compelled to “go as an ox to the slaughter,” and to “die as a fool dieth,” under the dread of an imputation of cowardice, which they would not otherwise deserve. Nor is it likely that the duel will ever be entirely abolished by the law as at present administered. Death, which the law of honour views as but an adequate reparation for an offensive word, is thought too severe a punishment for what the laws of God and man both declare to be murder. The penalty, therefore, is seldom inflicted; and where many are acquitted, all will hope to escape.

“Death,” says Mr Addison, “is not sufficient to deter men who make it their glory to despise it; but if every one who fought a duel were to stand in the pillory, it would quickly diminish the number of these imaginary men of honour, and put an end to so absurd a practice.”