seduced the former's wife, they met; but
though Devèze had planned an assassination
rather than a duel, Soeilles escaped with a
wound in the back. Again they met: this
time Devèze simply fired a pistol at his rival,
then ran away; for which act of cowardice
he was dismissed the army, and Soeilles
received permission to attack him whenever he
found him, and to seize on his property how
and where he would. A reconciliation was
patched up after this, and Soeilles was
betrothed to Devèze's sister; but he meant
revenge not marriage, and the poor girl was
made the instrument of his revenge. He
betrayed and ruined her, then refused to
marry. Devèze waylaid, and this time
positively murdered him; but he himself was
murdered soon after by one D'Aubignac,
hired for the deed by a relative of Soeilles.

Lagarde Valois and Bazanez were two
famous swordsmen of that time. Bazanez,
eager to fight Lagarde, sent him a hat
trimmed with feathers, daring him to wear
it. Lagarde put on the hat, of course, and
went to seek Bazanez. They fought at once,
Lagarde wounding tlie other in the head at
the first blow, but bending his sword at the
same time. However he ran him through
immediately after, saying:—

"This is for the hat! " (again the same
stroke) "this is for the feathers!" (again)
"this is for the loop." All the while
complimenting him on the elegant fit of the hat
and its perfect taste. Bazanez, streaming
with blood and furious with rage, rushed on
him desperately, broke through his guard, and
stabbed him no fewer than fourteen times.
Lagarde shrieking for mercy, while Bazanez
yelled, "No! no! no!" at every thrust.
Lagarde, prostrate and dying, yet found
sufficient strength to bite off a bit of his opponent's
chin and to break his head with the pommel
of his sword. While this revolting butchery
was going on between these two scoundrels,
the seconds were fighting in another part of
the field, and one was soon laid dead.

One bright example was afforded in the
midst of all this criminal madness, by young
De Reuly, the brave and noble anti-duellist,
whom no one could suspect of cowardice, but
who would not fight: no, not even when
pressed and insulted. Once, a man, who for
no quarrel, but for mere brutal curiosity
wished to make him fight, waylaid him with
a friend—De Reuly riding alone and simply
accompanied by a servant. They set on him,
but the young officer, one of the expertest
swordsmen of his regiment, disarmed and
wounded them both; then took them home
to his quarters, had their wounds dressed,
gave them some wine, and dismissed them.
Nor did he ever speak of the transaction
afterwards, even to the servant who was with
him. No one insulted De Reuly again.

In Louis the Thirteenth's reign, duels
became even more sanguinary and brutal,
though still the laws were against them.
Two men fought with knives in a tub, and
two held each other by the left hand and
hacked away with daggers in the right. The
Chevalier de Guise, a man in the prime of life,
riding down the Rue St. Honoré, met the old
Baron de Luz, with whom he had a slight
difference. The chevalier challenged him on
the spot, dismounted, and murdered him;
then coolly rode off, while the poor old man
staggered into a shoemaker's shop to die.
This was in sixteen hundred and thirteen.
De Luz had a son of the same age as the
chevalier. He challenged his father's murderer;
De Guise accepted. The duel took place on
horseback, and young De Luz was killed.

Lord Herbert of Cherbury, our ambassador
to the French court at that time, was strongly
infected with the prevalent disease. A very
Quixote in the matter of ladies' favours and
ribbons, he was also jealous, in a rougher
way, of the reputation of all renowned
duellists. He challenged many of them,
notably Balaguy, but he could not get them
to the point; and for all his Quixotic chivalry,
was well laughed at by both squire and dame,
while the more celebrated swordsmen did not
care to meet one whose discomfiture would
add nothing to their honour. It was in
this same reign, and in the year
sixteen hundred and twenty-seven, that De
Botteville fought De Beuvron in the Palais
Royal. Montmorency le Comte de
Botteville was the acknowledged master of
the art in Paris. His house was the
rendezvous of all the fencers and swordsmen
of the day, and he himself had slain
some half-score of men in duels more or less
iniquitous; the chief of which were with le
Comte de Pontgibaud, whom he forced away
from mass on Easter Sunday, and slew on the
spot, the Marquis de Portes, and le Comte de
Thorigny. He had always obtained his
pardon, not with much trouble; but at last the
king intimated to him that the royal clemency
was exhausted, and that he would be for-
given no more.

In spite of this he fought La Frète
between Poissy and Saint Germain, when, as
his second was killed by La Frète's second,
an order for his arrest was made out, and he
was forced to fly to Flanders. After a short
time the Archduchess applied to Louis for
his pardon; but without success. Irritated
at this, De Botteville swore that he would
return to Paris and fight in the Palais Royal,
in the very teeth of the king and law. And
he kept his word. He wrote to De Beuvron,
Thorigny's friend, anxious to be his avenger;
and after some preliminary epistles a meeting
was agreed on in the Palais Royal, at two
o'clock one certain afternoon. After fighting
with swords and daggers, neither getting
the better of the other, they began to
wrestle and struggle, when both asked for
quarter. The game was a drawn one. De
Botteville's second, De Bussy, a celebrated
swordsman, was mortally wounded in the