sand letters of pardon had been issued to persons who had killed others in single combat.[1]
Other writers confirm this statement. Amelot de Houssaye, in his Memoirs, says, upon this subject, that duels were so common in the first years of the reign of Louis XIII., that the ordinary conversation of persons when they met in the morning was, "Do you know who fought yesterday?" and after dinner, "Do you know who fought this morning?" The most infamous duellist at that period was De Bouteville. It was not at all necessary to quarrel with this assassin, to be forced to fight a duel with him. When he heard that any one was very brave, he would go to him, and say, "People tell me that you are brave; you and I must fight together!" Every morning the most notorious bravos and duellists used to assemble at his house, to take a breakfast of bread and wine, and practise fencing. M. de Valençay, who was afterwards elevated to the rank of a cardinal, stood very high in the estimation of De Bouteville and his gang. Hardly a day passed but what he was engaged in some duel or other, either as principal or second; and he once challenged De Bouteville himself, his best friend, because De Bouteville had fought a duel without inviting him to become his second. This quarrel was only appeased on the promise of De Bouteville that, in his next encounter, he would not fail to avail himself of his services. For that purpose he went out the same day, and picked a quarrel with the Marquis des Portes. M. de Valençay, according to agreement, had the pleasure of serving as his second, and of running through the body M. de Cavois, the second of the Marquis des Portes, a man who had never done him any injury, and whom he afterwards acknowledged he had never seen before.
Cardinal Richelieu devoted much attention to this lamentable state of public morals, and seems to have concurred with his great predecessor Sully, that nothing but the most rigorous severity could put a stop to the evil. The subject indeed was painfully forced upon him by his enemies. The Marquis de Themines, to whom Richelieu, then Bishop of Luçon, had given offence by some representations he had made to Mary of Medicis, determined, since he could not challenge an ecclesiastic, to challenge his brother. An opportunity was soon found. Themines, accosting the Marquis de Richelieu, complained, in an insulting tone, that the Bishop of Luçon had broken his faith. The Marquis resented both the manner and matter of his speech, and readily accepted a challenge. They met in the Rue d'Angoulême, and the unfortunate Richelieu was stabbed to the heart, and instantly expired. From that moment the bishop became the steady foe of the practice of duelling. Reason and the impulse of brotherly love alike
- ↑ Elémens de l'Histoire de France, vol. iii. p. 219.
