more humane as time went on; and Charles
the Ninth was the last king of France who
allowed or was present at a duel: the first
also who, by an ordonnance dated fifteen
hundred arid sixty-six, prohibited the practice.
A strange instance of humanity in the
Saint Bartholomew murderer. But some
remarkable duels took place meanwhile;
chiefly in the reign of Henry the Second.
One was between Chateauneuf, a minor,
and his guardian Lachesnaye, an old man
of eighty, concerning a lawsuit touching
the lad's property. As might be expected,
Chateauneuf soon dispatched his feeble old
antagonist, who accused him, by the by, of
being secretly defended by a cuirass. A short
time after this, another youth, Saint André,
quarrelled and fought with Matas, an aged
man, who disarmed, lectured and forgave
him: when, bidding him pick up his fallen
sword and behave more rationally for the
future, he was remounting his horse to ride
away; when Saint André plunged his sword
into his back, and left him dead on the
forest sward. The youth was not even
rebuked at court for the murder: he had
powerful friends; but Matas was blamed for
having provoked a fiery spirit by his reproof:
car Dieu s'en attriste (God is grieved), said one,
when the aged rebuke the generous young.

Duprat, Baron de Vitaux, was one of the
most noted duellists, or, more properly speak-
ing, murderers of his time. He began his
social life by killing his friend, Baron Soupez,
who had previously broken his hot pate by
flinging a candlestick at him. For this,
Vitaux waylaid and murdered him; then
escaped, disguised as a woman. A gentleman,
named Goumelieu, killed Vitaux's
brother, a lad of fifteen: Vitaux, accompanied
by Boucicaut, a young nobleman, followed
Goumelieu, overtook him near Saint Denis,
and murdered him. For this he was obliged
to fly again: this time into Italy; as
Goumelieu was a favourite with the king, and
his death would have been avenged. But he
soon returned to fight—or rather to assassinate—
Baron de Mittaud, who had killed
another of his brothers; though he, Mittaud,
was a near relation to the Vitaux family.
Accompanied by Boucicaut, and Boucicaut's
brother, Vitaux, disguised as a lawyer, waited
in Paris for Mittaud, and not in vain. One
day these three worthies met the baron and
murdered him; but one of the Boucicauts
was wounded in the struggle. Unable to
escape with his companions, and tracked by
his blood, he was taken by the archers and
sent to the Bastille. Interest was made
for him at court, and he was pardoned;
reappearing at the king's balls and levees
with as much gaiety and unconcern as if his
neck had never been in peril. Encouraged
by this example, Vitaux also returned openly
to Paris, this time with seven or eight
companions. Beginning his metropolitan career
by murdering Guart, the king's favourite,
who had opposed his pardon, but protected
by the Due d'Alençon, he was held harmless,
though his was one of the foulest and most
cold-blooded crimes on record. However,
not long after this, the Baron de Mittaud,
brother to the one previously assassinated,
met, fought, and killed Vitaux—the paragon,
as he was called, of France.

Quélus and D'Entragues, two unworthy
minions of Henry the Third, fought near the
Porte Saint Antoine. Riberac and Schomberg
—a German—were the seconds to
D'Entragues; Maugerin and Livaret to Quélus.
When the two principals were engaged
Eiberac went up to Maugerin, proposing that
a reconciliation should be effected.

"Sir!" said Maugerin, angrily, "I came
here to fight, not to string beads."

"Fight! with whom?" asked Riberac.

With you," said Maugerin.

"In that case let us then pray," answered
Riberac calmly, drawing his sword and
dagger, and placing their hilts cross-wise.
But his prayers were so long that Maugerin
grew impatient and interrupted him. Whereupon
they set to work; and soon both fell
dead. Schomberg, animated by such a
virtuous example, proposed the like pastime
to Livaret; Livaret accepted; and the
German laid his cheek open at the first cut. In
revenge, Livaret pierced him through the
heart, and stretched him lifeless at his feet.
D'Entragues was severely wounded, but
escaped, and  Quélus died the next day. Henry
was disconsolate at his loss, and had him
buried by the side of another ill-fated minion,
Saint Megrin, assassinated by the Duc de
Guise at the gate of the Louvre. Two years
after this bloody fight, Livaret was killed in
a duel with the Marquis de Pieune; when
his servant seeing him fall, stabbed De Pienne
on the field.

Bussy d'Amboise was another of the royal
favourites and celebrated cut-throats of the
day. In the Bartholomew massacres he
assassinated Antoine de Clermont, a near
relation with whom he was at law; afterwards
he fought Saint Phal, because Saint
Phal had the letter X embroidered on
his clothes, and Bussy maintained it was
a Y. Then he attacked Crillon in the Rue
St. Honoré, Crillon crying "This is the hour
of thy death!" as he defended himself;
but they were separated. Finally he was
killed by hired bravos in the service of the
Count de Montsoreau, who met him at the
place of assignation instead of the countess,
to whom he had written, and with whom he
had an intrigue.

Henry the Fourth tried to prevent the
practice of duelling, but in vain. From
fifteen hundred and eighty-nine, when he
ascended the throne, to sixteen hundred and
seven, it was calculated that four thousand
gentlemen had lost their lives in duels. One
of the most celebrated was that between
Devèze, and Soeilles. The latter having