FRANCIS VERSUS CHARLES. THE DUEL THAT NEVER CAME TO HAPPEN

During these transactions, the ambassadors of France and England repaired to Spain, in consequence of the treaty which Wolsey had concluded with the French king. The emperor, unwilling to draw on himself the united forces of the two monarchs, discovered an inclination to relax somewhat the rigor of the treaty of Madrid, to which, hitherto, he had adhered inflexibly. He offered to accept of the two millions of crowns, which Francis had proposed to pay as an equivalent for the duchy of Burgundy, and to set his sons at liberty, on condition that he would recall his army out of Italy, and restore Genoa, together with the other conquests which he had made in that country. With regard to Sforza, he insisted that his fate should be determined by the judges appointed to inquire into his crimes. These propositions being made to Henry, he transmitted them to his ally the French king, whom it more nearly concerned to examine and to answer them; and if Francis had been sincerely solicitous either to conclude peace or preserve consistency in his own conduct, he ought instantly to have closed with overtures which differed but little from the propositions which he himself had formerly made. But his views were now much changed; his alliance with Henry, Lautrec’s progress in Italy, and the superiority of his army there above that of the emperor, hardly left him room to doubt of the success of his enterprise against Naples.

Full of those sanguine hopes, he was at no loss to find pretexts for rejecting or evading what the emperor had proposed. Under the appearance of sympathy with Sforza, for whose interests he had not hitherto discovered much solicitude, he again demanded the full and unconditional reestablishment of that unfortunate prince in his dominions. Under color of its being imprudent to rely on the emperor’s sincerity, he insisted that his sons should be set at liberty before the French troops left Italy, or surrendered Genoa. The unreasonableness of these demands, as well as the reproachful insinuation with which they were accompanied, irritated Charles to such a degree, that he could hardly listen to them with patience; and repenting of his moderation, which had made so little impression on his enemies, declared that he would not depart in the smallest article from the conditions which he had now offered. Upon this the French and English ambassadors (for Henry had been drawn unaccount­ably to concur with Francis in these strange propositions) demanded and obtained their audience of leave.

Next day [Jan. 22, 1528], two heralds who had accompanied the ambassadors on purpose, though they had hitherto concealed their character, having assumed the ensigns of their office, appeared in the emperor's court, and being admitted into his presence, they, in the name of their respective masters, and with all the solemnities customary on such occasions, denounced war against him. Charles received both with a dignity suitable to his own rank, but spoke to each in a tone adapted to the sentiments which he entertained of their respective sovereigns. He accepted the defiance of the English monarch with a firmness tempered by some degree of decency and respect. His reply to the French king abounded with that acrimony of expression, which personal rivalship, exasperated by the memory of many injuries inflicted as well as suffered, naturally suggests. He desired the French herald to acquaint his sovereign, that he would henceforth consider him not only as a base violator of public faith, but as a stranger to the honor and integrity becoming a gentleman. Francis, too high-spirited to bear such an imputation, had recourse to an uncommon expedient in order to vindicate his character. He instantly sent back the herald with a cartel of defiance, in which he gave the emperor the lie in form, challenged him to single combat, requiring him to name the time and place of the encounter, and the weapons with which he chose to fight. Charles, as he was not inferior to his rival in spirit or bravery, readily accepted the challenge; but after several messages concerning the arrangement of all the circumstances relative to the combat, accompanied with mutual reproaches, bordering on the most indecent scurrility, all thoughts of this duel, more becoming the heroes of romance than the two greatest monarchs of their age, were entirely laid aside.

The example of two personages so illustrious drew such general attention, and carried with it so much authority, that it had considerable influence in producing an important change in manners all over Europe. Duels, as has already been observed, had long been permitted by the laws of all the European nations, and forming a part of their jurisprudence, were authorized by the magistrate on many occasions, as the most proper method of terminating questions with regard to property, or of deciding those which respected crimes. But single combats being considered as solemn appeals to the omniscience and justice of the Supreme Being, they were allowed only in public causes, according to the prescription of law, and carried on in a judicial form. Men accustomed to this manner of decisions in a court of justice, were naturally led to apply it to personal and private quarrels.

Duels, which at first could be appointed by the civil judge alone, were fought without the interposition of his authority, and in cases to which the laws did not extend. The transaction between Charles and Francis strongly countenanced this practice. Upon every affront, or injury, which seemed to touch his honor, a gentleman thought himself entitled to draw his sword, and to call on his adversary to give him satisfaction. Such an opinion becoming prevalent among men of fierce courage, of high spirit, and of rude manners, when offence was often given, and revenge was always prompt, produced most fatal consequences.

Much of the best blood in Christendom was shed; many useful lives were sacrificed; and, at some periods, war itself had hardly been more destructive than these private contests of honor. So powerful, however, is the dominion of fashion, that neither the terror of penal laws, nor reverence for religion, have been able entirely to abolish a practice unknown among the ancients, and not justifiable by any principle of reason; though at the same time, it must be admitted, that to this absurd custom, we must ascribe in some degree the extraordinary gentleness and complaisance of modern manners, and that respectful attention of one man to another, which at present render the social intercourses of life far more agreeable and decent than among the most civilized nations of antiquity.

 

THE DESERTION OF ANDREA DORIA