had also written a novel that had a great success in the United States"The Upper Ten Thousand." He amused himself while in Europe by writing clever letters to an American sporting weekly. Wilkes' Spirit of the Times. In one of these he sharply criticised the action of the officers at the De Pène duel, and named the Marquis de Gallifet. Some kind soul at the French Legation in Washington cut this letter out and inclosed it to the marquis, with the result that the latter and two of his friends took the first train for Baden-Baden with the intention of calling Mr. Bristed to account. The French seconds came to Mr. Bristed's house on a Sunday, but as he was a staunch churchman, and the son of an Episcopal clergyman, he declined to discuss the matter then. On the following day, however, he appointed two gentlemen to act for him-Major Yates, an Englishman who had served in the Austrian army, and Judge Monson, of New York. A duel was fought near Strasburg. The weapons were rifled pistols, and the distance forty-five paces. Two shots were exchanged without results. The marquis had two encounters with the Count de L, an eccentric old gentleman of ancient lineage who lived in the country, was rather careless in his dress, and only visited Paris at long intervals. The marquis and he did not know each other by sight. During one of these visits to Paris he went to the opera, where the marquis and his wife occupied a box. M. de L in his stall was so struck by the exquisite beauty of the lady that he kept his opera-glass fixed upon her face. This put the fiery marquis in a rage, and meeting M. de Lin the lobby between the acts he looked him all over very carefully and then spoke to him with scorn. The old man, swift as thought, struck him on both cheeks, saying, "It is the Count de Lyou are speaking to." In the duel the marquis was wounded. When the wound healed he had the count "out" again, and this time the count was wounded. Honors were easy, and the question of a third duel was discussed, but this time the emperor interfered, and the marquis and the count drove out to the ground on both occasions in hired carriages heated with hot-water pipes (remises chauffées), which caused the Parisians to say that, while the gentlemen were not at all afraid of death, they were much afraid of taking cold. The marquis in 1868 was colonel of a hussar regiment. One of his lieutenants was Prince A- M—. Their garrison was in a small provincial town, but both being worshippers at the shrine of the same fair lady in Paris, a good deal of their time was spent in the capital. Whenever they came to Paris they seldom failed to meet. This caused a bitter feeling, which culminated when the prince went to Paris after having been refused leave of absence by his colonel. The marquis wrote a letter to a friend in Paris, the Marquis de R-, in which, speaking from the standpoint of the old French nobility with regard to the new Bonapartist creations, he referred to M- in uncomplimentary terms. The marquis was reading this passage aloud to a circle of friends at the club in the Rue Royale when the prince entered the room. He overheard the words coupled with his name, and anxious to know who had paid him this left-handed compliment walked up to the marquis and curtly said, "Show me the letter." The marquis declined, when the prince repeated his demand. "Never," replied the marquis. "Show me the letter," cried the prince, in such a tone of suppressed passion that the other, with the words, "There, I believe every word of it," handed it to him. Without looking at the letter the prince said, "I shall hold you responsible." In the duel with the Marquis de R, after a pass or two, the latter's seconds declared the "condition of their principal made it impossible for the duel to continue." Prince M- then sought a meeting with his colonel. When the emperor heard it he was furious. The Marquis de Gallifet and his wife were great favorites at court, and among the few of the noble "Faubourg" who went there, while the prince was to all intents a member of the imperial family. The many of the young Englishmen and emperor sent for the prince, and for- Americans in Paris. Pujol was an exmally forbade the duel. It is said the cellent teacher. He had what most young officer broke his sword across his fencing masters lack-patience. He knee and threw the pieces at the em- had been fencing master of a cavalry peror's feet. The duel took place after regiment, and was a perfect type of the all. The prince was a poor swordsman, old troupier, who in an age when most the marquis an excellent one. On the of the "non-coms" wear spectacles is night before the duel Prince M- went fast passing away. He talked the most to the house of his second, M. d'E— of delicious soldier-French, and that, too, the Spanish Embassy, then said to be is disappearing, like everything else the best amateur swordsman in Paris, that marks character. Pujol had witand spent the entire night practising nessed the duel between poor Dillon and with him in the courtyard a secret coup. the Duke of Gramont-Caderousse. It At daybreak the prince knew it to per- was worth a journey to Paris to hear fection. It required great nerve and him tell it. He was walking in the quickness, and if it failed it meant wood at Saint-Germain when he stumdeath, but on it he pinned his chances of bled across the duellists. ""Cré-nom.' success. On the ground he ran his said I to myself, 'something's up.' colonel through the thigh. The latter They were alignés, ready to begin. was carried home in a fuming rage. 'Go,' said the seconds. L'Anglais, he His last words before he fainted were, jump in the air; so Monsieur le Duc he "A— M— has beaten me; but next take a step back-so, and ratatapang" (an time I'll beat him." There was, how- expression not in the dictionary but alever, no "next time." The emperor in ways used by Pujol to point a thrilling terfered again, like a good fairy, and the story) "the other fall forward-so. matter ended with the prince's exchang- They pick him up-dead; un brave, but ing into another regiment. no fencer." As most foreigners who live for any time in Paris, I regularly attended a fencing school. Though I practised faithfully several hours a day for a couple of years, I only reached a moderate degree of proficiency. Six years' constant practice are needed to make a good swordsman. A French gentleman learns to handle a foil at the age of seven, and fences "school"-that is, practises single thrusts and parries-for a long time before he is allowed to engage in an assault-at-arms. In addition to the fencing school nearly every French gentleman has a salle d'armes in his house, where he practises in the afternoon, and sometimes of an evening, with his friends. The schools of the great fencing masters are clubs in a way, as the baths were in ancient Rome, and in the intervals of fencing the pupils sip coffee and vermouth, read the newspapers, and exchange the gossip of the day. I went to Pujol, the maître d'armes in the Rue de Morny, not far from the Champs Elysées. His school was a general rendezvous for When a Frenchman is about to engage in a sword duel he goes to his fencing master and takes a leçon de duel. This costs three or four times as much as an ordinary lesson, and the master usually teaches him one of the secret thrusts that form a part of his stock in trade. In the "duelling lesson" épées mouchetées (small swords with buttons at the end) are used instead of foils, and another style practised, more simple and more cautious, with fewer varieties of thrust. The fencer is taught not to advance his own blade too far upon that of his adversary. The great fencing master Grisier used to boast that he had given during his life a hundred and twenty of these lessons, and that in not one of the duels afterwards was a pupil of his killed or even seriously wounded. When a duel with pistols is "in the air" a Frenchman usually goes to the gallery of Gastinne-Renette, near the Champs Elysées, and practises at plaster figures (poupées) or at the lifesize image of a man. In those days two of the best shots were the late Duke the of Hamilton and Count Khevenhueller, swordsmen, and in their encounters of the Austrian embassy. The best with others had generally been successpistol-shot in Paris to-day is M. Cartier, ful. They fought until covered with who can throw a small piece of silver in blood flowing from numerous the air and hit it before it reaches the wounds, and, being about evenly ground. His friends have a number of matched, neither can be said to have these pieces with the mark of the bullet, had much the best of it. The cause of presented to them as souvenirs of his the duel was never made public. skill. A man may do brilliant shooting in a gallery, and then, the conditions being so different, fail to score on the ground. A good pistol-shot was making marvellous practice at Gastinne-Renette's poupées one day, when a spectator remarked: "Very good, but he might not hit a man at fifteen paces." He said this so often that the pistol-shot lost patience, and, turning to him, said: "Suppose we try." They did so the next day. The marksman won the first shot-and missed. The other, raising his hat, quietly said: "What did I tell you?" A duel with swords fought at this time between M. A-, a wealthy Cuban, whose family own what, next to the Elysée and the British Embassy, is perhaps the finest house in the Rue Saint-Honoré, and M. Gaston Jolivet, poet, journalist, littérateur, and satirist, was, according to the testimony of an eye-witness, one of the most desperate encounters that ever took place near Paris. Jolivet, a great friend of M. Henri Rochefort, had been "out" a great many times. He wrote some clever satirical verses about his col leagues of the press, of which I can only recall the four lines that referred to their fondness for duels and decora tions: Il n'y a plus de déshonneur, A determined little duellist of those days, as I have reason to remember, was the Vicomte de la P, whose sister was a lady-in-waiting to the empress. In addition to his numerous encounters with compatriots, he fought duels in 1868, within the short space of a month, with an Englishman, a German, and an American. The duel with the American took place at Ville d'Avray, and I was present at it as a spectator. Two officers of chasseurs à cheval acted on behalf of M. de la P--, while the American was assisted on the ground by Count Maurice d'Irison d'Hérissem, afterwards aide-de-camp of General Trochu, and Count Excelmans, son of the marshal. The parties drove twice from Paris to Ville d'Avray before the duel could take place. The first day, owing to some misunderstanding, neither party had provided weapons. On the following day both brought a pair of swords. The duellists removed their coats and waistcoats, when the seconds drew lots for choice of place and swords. Those used belonged to the Vicomte de Feuillant, and had already been used with fatal effect. One of them was "the lucky one." Those fortunate enough to secure it had always come unscathed out of an encounter. The American's second won the toss, and obtained it. The men were placed, Nous avons tons la croix de la Légion when M. d'Irison, joining the points of d'honneur; Si Monsieur Rouher ne le veut pas, On lui coupe la gorge à quinze pas. After these were published it rained challenges in Jolivet's house. This did not embarrass him. He was like a knight of old, ready for all comers at any time, in any place. A-, who had a high spirit and was an habitué of the fast set, had fought duels without number. Both he and Jolivet were fine their swords between his finger and thumb, suddenly dropped them, saying, "Allez, messieurs." The encounter, which lasted five or six minutes, was a pretty brisk one. Both were young, active, and fairly good swordsmen. Each received a couple of slight wounds, when the seconds bade them pause, and, after a brief consultation, stopped the duel. Apropos of French journalists and duelling, I remember calling at the de Dion, the greatest living authority office of a great Parisian newspaper in France on duelling, who has been with a friend who wished to have "out" scores of times, both as principal rectified a statement published in it and second, and whose undisputed concerning him. When our business loyalty and firmness have made it was made known we were ushered into possible for him to prevent many duels a handsomely furnished room on the that seemed inevitable. The marquis first floor. Seated at desks, without a killed Captain Mayer in a duel with trace of pens, ink, or paper, or of any swords at the Ile de la Grande Jatte a thing in a literary way except some new few years ago, and in a pistol duel with novels, together with a few packages of a deputy, M. Dreyfus, wounded him in cigarettes, were two gentlemen, whose the arm. When on his American appearance made a considerable im- ranche two cowboys tried to "jump" pression on me. They were faultlessly some of his cattle, he and one of his dressed in deep black (the duellist's herdsmen fought them off with "Wincolor). Each had the ribbon of the chesters," the invaders being similarly Legion in his buttonhole, their long jet- equipped. One of the cowboys was black moustaches were waxed out to a killed. point as fine as a needle's, and there was in their whole manner, their voice, their gestures, and the expression of their eyes and mouths, an indescribable something that proclaims the man who at one time or another has worn a uniform. These were the fighting editors, with whom evidently the pen was not mightier than the sword. They were civil, however, and consented to the rectification of the paragraph. As fighting was their trade, they looked at it in a purely business way, and only went out when the demands made were too unreasonable to be entertained. I fancy that they sometimes fought in defence of articles they had never even seen. A good many duels à sensation have taken place during the last few years. In the one fought between the late M. Floquet and General Boulanger in the garden behind a friend's house the stout old civilian "pinked" the "brav' général" handsomely. This unexpected result did more to destroy the general's popularity than any of his political mistakes. The statesman was in the habit of fencing a couple of hours every day in his private salle d'armes in order to keep down a growing embonpoint, and was a first-rate swordsman though few knew it. The Marquis de Morès was a gentleman of whom militant editors of the Paris press stood somewhat in awe, and this respect they extend at the present day to the Count There is a good deal of French literature on the subject of duelling. Tallement des Réaux, Jean de la Taille, D'Alembert ("Physiologie du Duel"), Colombey ("Histoire Anecdotique du Duel," and the amusing little book "Le Duel," part of the "Bibliothèque des Curiosités"). The most important modern French works on the subject are "Les Armes et le Duel," by Grisier, the famous fencing master, and the "Code du Duel," by the Marquis de Châteauvillard, a recognized authority in France and often quoted before the courts in duelling cases. At a famous trial, Alexander Dumas referred to it, and the judge, disclaiming all knowledge of it, asked where it might be found. Dumas replied, "In any gentleman's library." The book recognizes in the duel but three weapons - the sword, the sabre, and the pistol. Any other can be used only by mutual cɔnsent. His chapter on "Insults" is curious reading. "A gross verbal insult is no answer to another gross verbal insult." "A blow is not an answer to a blow." "Force does not constitute a blow; who touches strikes." With regard to this I remember that when that admirable actor Bressant played Armand in "La Dame aux Camélias," and strikes the Count de Varville in the ball-room scene, he does so by simply drawing the tips of his fingers lightly across his breast. There is a great prejudice in France against physical violence: "Jeux de mains-jeux de vilains." In duelling matters it puts a man out of court. A lame man may refuse swords or sabres owing to his infirmity, or a one-eyed man pistols; but if they have struck the other party they forfeit the privilege. "There is no apology for a blow." In a pistol duel, if a man fire before the seconds have counted "three," or half a second too late, he is dishonored, and, if he kills, an assassin. "If he fires before the word, his adversary may take as long as he likes to aim." The marquis was a firm believer. "The laws of honor are as sacred as those of the government." Grisier was not only a great fencer but a man of literary attainments, who reckoned among his friends Dumas, who wrote the preface of his book, and Roger de Beauvoir, who added to it a life of the author. Grisier opened a fencing school in St. Petersburg before he established his salle d'armes in Paris, and his book is dedicated to the Emperor Nicholas I. He says a cruel thing of seconds: "It is not the arms but the seconds that kill;" but later on shows that the services of the unfortunate "friends" are not always unattended by danger. A gentleman known to Grisier who was second in a duel managed to prevent the meeting, but mortally offended both parties, whom he was obliged to fight. His own principal gave him a sword-thrust that kept him in bed for six months. He shot the other man through the head, and was forced to fly the country. Among the pistol duels of the French is the one "on parallel lines." Two lines are traced about thirty feet long and twenty apart. The principals are placed at the opposite ends of these two lines, and advance towards each other at the word, firing at will. They cannot get nearer to each other than twenty paces, must fire while they walk, and must not stop until they have gone the entire distance. This duel is said rarely to end fatally for the principals. But how is it with the seconds? When two excitable young Frenchmen fight under such conditions the only safe place for seconds is a cellar. The cleverest thing and the truest (as far as France is concerned) ever said of duelling is the remark of La Bruyère: "The duel is the triumph of fashion-of vanity, that is." More patrician French blood has been shed in duels than in the Revolution. But duelling is not likely to disappear until French ladies combine to crush it with their disapproval. At present, by one of those curious contradictions peculiar to the sex, they turn faint at the sight of blood, but welcome with a ready smile the duellist who sheds it. When the Prince de Sagan, the arbiter elegantiarum of Paris, fancied not long ago that in one of the characters of a play he himself had been presented by a well-known dramatist to the Paris public, he called the author out. The duel took place behind the grand stand on a Paris race-course, and was witnessed by a great crowd of delighted spectators, who proclaimed the affair worthy of La Régence, and were rather disappointed when two shots were exchanged without result. The most attractive feature about Parisian duels is the charming spots near Paris they usually take place in— Vincennes, Saint Mandé, Ville d'Avray, the Ile de la Grand Jatte, and so on. There is always a capital little restaurant, whose proprietor makes a fortune out of the duellists who come there to breakfast after a bloodless encounter. They order everything on the menu. Duellists usually develop an extraordinary appetite after a meeting. Before the duel—well, that is another matter. FROM THE JAMES PEMBERTON-Grund. From Longman's Magazine. BANDI MIKLOS. Letter First.- From Bándi Miklós. Dearest Margit! Your last words when we parted yesterday were: "Speak to mamma;' and yet, instead of at once obeying your dear commands, I am about to write you a long letter of I don't know how many sheets. |