CHAPTER V

Sword and pistol--Whence arose my aversion to the latter weapon--Philippe's puppet--The statue of Corneille--An autograph _in extremis_--Le bois de Vincennes--A duelling toilet--Scientific question put by Bixio--The conditions of the duel--Official report of the seconds--How Bixio's problem found its solution

I had wished the duel to be one with swords; M. Gaillardet insisted it should be with pistols. I have a strong repugnance to that weapon; it seems to me brutal and more that of a highway robber, who attacks a traveller from the shelter of a wood, than that of the honourable combatant defending his life. The thing I dread most in pistol-duelling (but I have only fought twice with this weapon) is unskilfulness, much more than dexterity. Indeed, two or three years before the period in which the events I am relating took place--namely, before 1834--I had had a pistol-duel; I have not spoken of it, not being able to give the name of the man against whom I fought, nor to tell the reasons why I was fighting. In that duel, which took place at seven in the morning in the bois de Boulogne, in the neighbourhood of Madrid, my adversary and I were placed at twenty paces distance from one another. Lots were drawn as to who should fire first and the advantage fell to my adversary. I planted myself, with pistol loaded, at a distance of twenty paces and I waited for the firing with the muzzle of the barrel of my weapon in the air.

My adversary fired. I saw his hand tremble and the bullet strike the ground six lengths in front of me, and, at the same time, however, I felt what seemed like the sharp cut of a whip on my leg. It was the flattened bullet which struck the calf of my leg as it rebounded, making a wound two inches deep and forcing into my wound a piece of my trousers and boot. The pain was so great that I unconsciously pressed the trigger of my weapon and the charge went off into the air. The seconds then decided that the firing held good, and that any pistol discharged in a duel was discharged against the adversary.

I requested it to be continued, and the seconds began to re-load the weapons; but, during that operation, whether from shaken nerves, or loss of blood, I nearly fainted. It was, therefore, impossible to go on with the duel. Consequently, I got into my carriage, and, as I did not wish to return to my mother in the state I was in, I had myself driven to Deligny's Swimming School, where my friend père Jean gave me a bathing-closet and sent to the rue de l'Université for Roux, the clever surgeon. Roux was not at home, but they brought back one of his assistants. The young man examined the wound, and, as the ball had passed through almost from one side to the other where it had entered, he decided it was shorter to begin the search by the aid of a fresh wound than to fumble about in the other; the swelling, moreover, made that almost impracticable. It was done as he wished; the young man opened the calf of my leg and extracted first the bullet, next the piece of boot and, finally, the fragment of my trousers; then they neatly put pad of lint on both sides of my wound, and bound up my leg, and I returned home hopping on one foot, telling my poor mother that I had torn my leg with a splinter of wood while bathing. I had, therefore, good reason for not having a liking for pistols--well though I shot with them, and, at that time, I was a remarkable shot--but M. Gaillardet insisted and I accepted his weapon. All the same, I wished to prove to his seconds that if I insisted on swords, it was not, indeed, for want of skill to use the weapon preferred by my opponent. I consequently invited Soulié and Fontan to come to Gosset's. It was a singular thing! the seconds had drawn by lot their fighter, or, rather, M. Gaillardet and I had so drawn our seconds, and fate gave me Longpré and Maillan, who were simple acquaintances, and it gave Soulié and Fontan to M. Gaillardet, who were both my friends. Soulié, Fontan and I, then, went to Gosset's the night before the duel. A boy named Philippe usually loaded my pistols. He it was, therefore, who went to take down the puppet and to put up the bull's eye.

"No," I said to Philippe, "leave the puppet."

"But monsieur is not in the habit of firing at the puppet."

"I will only fire ten bullets, Philippe; it is merely to show these gentlemen that I am not one of your poor shots."

Philippe left the doll.

I put my first bullet an inch above its head; the second an inch below its feet; the third an inch to its right side, and the fourth an inch to its left side. "Now that it cannot escape either above, below, to right or to left, I am going to break it with my fifth bullet." And I broke it with my fifth. I aimed the sixth bullet at the ground; it stopped short at ten paces, almost. I shot at it with the remains of the contents of my pistol. At that moment, a swallow came and alighted on a chimney and I killed it. Fontan and Soulié exchanged looks. One of my principles was never to draw sword or to shoot before others; this time I had made an exception in their favour. Soulié himself shot extremely well; I had been his second four or five years previously, in a duel he had had with Signol, and in an experiment similar to this which I had made I had seen him break the small and large hand of a cuckoo clock one after the other at a distance of fifteen yards.

"Philippe," I said, as I came out, "I have to fight a duel to-morrow; I wish things to go off fair and square. Take with you ammunition and pistols that I have never used, powder and shot, and be at Saint-Mandé by noon."

Philippe promised to do what he was bidden and we went away.

The affair assumed a seriousness I had never realised till then. I went to Bixio, begging him, as usual, to be present at the duel, not in the capacity of second, but in that of surgeon. The meeting was to be at twelve o'clock at Saint-Mandé! We were to go by the mail-coach. If I were not wounded or killed, we should immediately leave the field of battle for Rouen, where there was to be an inauguration of the statue of Corneille. Fontan, Dupeuty and I had been appointed by a majority of votes to represent dramatic authors. Bixio accepted, of course; he was to come and fetch me from the rue Bleue, where I lodged at the time. I returned home to take certain precautionary measures concerning my son and daughter, in case of my death. As regarded my mother, since the poor woman knew that I was going a journey of some length, I left a score of letters written from different towns in Italy; if I was killed, they could hide the truth from her by letting her believe I was still alive by the receipt of a letter at intervals, as though it had just arrived by post. These preparations took up the whole night. I only slept towards five in the morning. At ten o'clock, when my two seconds came in, they found me still asleep. The affair was still on. We were to have breakfast at the café des Variétés. There, my carriage came for us and we were to be taken and brought back by my horses; then, on the return (if return there were to be), we should take post-horses and start, as I have said, for Rouen. I sent Maillan and Longpré on in advance to order breakfast. I went downstairs ten minutes after them. I had, at all risks, taken duelling swords under my cloak; I still hoped the matter would end that way. I met Florestan Bonnaire on the staircase, whom I have already mentioned in connection with Madame Sand. He had an album in his hand.

"Stop," he said, "are you going out?"

"Yes."

"Are you in a hurry?"

"Why?"

"Because, if you are not in a hurry, I wish you would go upstairs and write a few lines of poetry in my album."

"All right! Take the album upstairs; and leave it. On my return I will put you a scene in it from _Christine_ or from _Charles VII."_

"You cannot do it at once?"

"No, honestly I can't."

"Go along with you!"

"On my word of honour, I am in a hurry, and I would not be late for the whole world!"

"Where are you going?"

"I am off to fight a duel with Gaillardet."

"Bah!"

"Better late than never."

"Oh, then, my dear friend, write me my lines at once, I entreat."

"Why?"

"If you are going to be killed, see how interesting it would be for my wife to have the last lines you had written!"

"You are right, I had not thought of that. I would not like to deprive Madame Bonnaire of this chance; let us go up, my friend."

We went upstairs, I wrote ten lines in the album and Bonnaire left me delighted. I was, indeed, a little later than my seconds; but I had such a good excuse to offer them that they forgave me. Bixio came and joined us at the café. We were at Saint-Mandé by noon. We found Gosset's lad there, waiting for us with freshly cleaned pistols which no one had hitherto used. Looking behind the carriage, we saw a hackney carriage following us. We suspected it was our adversary and his seconds.

We got down at the appointed place. The hackney opened, but we only saw Soulié and Fontan get out of it. M. Gaillardet had said that he would come by himself. They ran to me. I had already noticed the strange fact that they scarcely knew M. Gaillardet, whilst we were old friends. So all their sympathies were for me. I asked them to make one final effort to make M. Gaillardet fight with swords, warning them that if, at the first shot, nothing happened, I should demand a reloading of pistols. They promised to do their best in the matter of the change of weapons. At that moment a carriage appeared and stopped a few yards from us. M. Gaillardet got out of it. He was in regular duelling toilet: coat, breeches and black waistcoat, without a single white spot anywhere on him, not even his shirt collar.

It was with the recollection of the effect he made on me thus clad, that, sixteen years later, I wrote the scene between Comte Hermann and Karl, a scene where, at the moment of letting his nephew go to fight a pistol duel, Comte Hermann buttons Karl's coat and tucks the ends of his collar under his cravat. It is well known how difficult it is to hit a man clad wholly in black. When Carrel was wounded by Giradin, a year or two later, it was on the few threads from the end of his yellow waistcoat which stuck out beyond his black coat.

I shared my observation with Bixio.

"Where will you aim?" he asked me.

"I do not know, upon my word," I replied.

Suddenly I squeezed him by the arm.

"Well?" he asked.

"He has cotton wool in his ears," I said; "I will try to break his head for him."

Meanwhile, M. Gaillardet was talking animatedly with the seconds, and it was easily seen that his gestures were negative ones. Indeed, he refused a third time to fight with swords. His two seconds came to announce that his resolution on this point was immovable; there was nothing more left to do but to choose a spot for the duel. We left the carriage where it was, instructing the driver to come when he heard the firing and we plunged into the wood. After walking for five minutes we found a suitable opening: straight and without the sun. There were but the final settlements to make--the business of the seconds--they met and entered into committee. Meanwhile, I placed the letters intended for my mother, in case of accident, in Bixio's charge. My final injunctions to him were delivered in so simple a manner and in such confident tones, that Bixio took my hand and pressed it, saying--

"Bravo! dear fellow! I should not have believed you would have been so cool under the circumstances."

"It is on such occasions that I am cool," I said to him; "I slept badly the night after M. Gaillardet's provocation; but, it is part of my very character--temperament, whatever you like to call it--from a doctor's point of view, to be far less moved by danger the nearer it approaches me."

"I should very much like to feel your pulse when you are actually standing up against one another."

"Just as you like; that is easily done!"

"We will see how many more beats it gives from excitement."

"I, too, would like to know; it is a matter of interest to me personally."

"Do you think you will hit him?"

"I am afraid not."

"Try, though."

"I will do my best ... You have a grudge against him then?"

"I, not the least in the world; I do not know him."

"Well, then?"

"Have you read Mérimée's _Le Vase étrusque_?"

"Yes."

"Well, he says that every man killed by a bullet turns round before he falls; I should like to know if this is true, from the point of view of science."

"I will do my best to gratify your desire."

The seconds separated from one another. Fontan and Soulié went towards M. Gaillardet and de Longpré, and Maillan came to me.

"Well," they said, "we have claimed that the choice of arms ought to be decided by lot; but M. Gaillardet's seconds maintain the contrary; we have come to consult you."

"You know very well what my opinion is; I will fight with what you will, but I should prefer swords."

"Fontan and Soulié are reporting to M. Gaillardet, as you see. Stop, they are coming to us."

And, indeed, Soulié and Fontan were doing so, and we met them half-way.

"M. Gaillardet," said Soulié, "has just declared to us that if he does not fight with pistols, he will not fight at all."

"Toss five francs in the air," I said to my seconds; "and draw up a written declaration of the refusal of these gentlemen to refer the matter to lot."

De Longpré flung up a 5-franc piece, but Soulié and Fontan stood silent.

"All right," I said; "I accept M. Gaillardet's weapons, but I demand a declaration of the facts of the case."

They tore a piece of paper from a note-book, and on the crown of a hat Maillan wrote a report of the facts I have just given.

This pertinacity on my part cut short the conference. Pistols were accepted by me, and there only remained the settling of the terms. I wished we might be allowed to advance upon one another, and only to fire at our own will.

"M. Gaillardet," I said, "has laid down the terms about the arms; it seems to me that, in exchange for the concession which I have made him in adopting them, I, in my turn, have the right of deciding the way we shall use them."

"My dear friend," said Soulié to me, "the combatants have no rights; it belongs to the seconds to choose all rights."

"Very well! I request, if not as a demand, at least by way of suggestion, that my wish be submitted to M. Gaillardet."

The seconds went aside, and I found myself again alone with Bixio.

"_Sacredieu_! my dear fellow," I said to him, "that lad over there irritates me so much that I am dying to get even with him."

"Ah, try! you will have cleared up a very curious point in science."

Five minutes later, Maillan and de Longpré returned to me.

"Well," they said, "all is arranged."

"Good!"

"You are to be placed fifty yards from one another ..."

"Why fifty yards?"

"Oh come, wait a bit. And you have the right to walk fifteen yards towards one another."

"Ah!"

"You are not satisfied?"

"It is not all that I wanted, but one must be satisfied with what one can get. Come, mark off the distances, my lads!"

"You see, Soulié and Fontan are doing it."

"Will you have the side where you now are?"

"As I am here, I may as well stay."

The gentlemen set to work to measure the distances, and I went on chatting with Bixio. Meantime, the shooting--boy loaded the pistols. The fifteen yards which we might walk over were marked by two sticks put across the pathway. They took M. Gaillardet his pistol and brought me mine. I took it in my right hand and held out my left for Bixio to feel my pulse. M. Gaillardet was ready at his post. I signed to him to wait till Bixio had made his observation.

"Tell him then not to take any notice of me, but to fire just the same," said Bixio.

Bixio's character runs entirely on those two lines.

My pulse beat sixty-eight to the minute.

"Now go along with you!" Bixio said to me, "and do not hurry yourself."

Then he went into the wood with the four witnesses. I went and took up my position. Soulié clapped his hands three times. At the third clap M. Gaillardet ran the distance which separated him from the limit and waited. I walked towards him deviating from the straight line a little so as not to give him the advantage of helping himself to take aim by the path. M. Gaillardet fired at my tenth yard. I did not even hear the whistle of the bullet. I turned towards our four friends. Soulié, as pale as death, was leaning against a tree. I bowed my head and waved my pistol at the witnesses to show them that nothing had happened. Then I wanted to take the few yards I still had left me; but my conscience glued my feet to the soil, telling me that I ought to fire from the spot where I had sustained fire. And, I lifted my pistol and looked for the famous white point which the cotton wool in his ears promised me. But, after M. Gaillardet had fired, he had stood back to receive my fire, and, as he protected his head with his pistol, his ear was hidden behind the weapon. I had therefore to find another spot; but I feared to be accused of having taken too long a time in aiming, not being able to give, as an excuse, that I had not found the spot I was looking for. So I fired at random. M. Gaillardet flung his head back. I thought at first that he was wounded, and I confess I then felt a vivid feeling of joy for a thing I should have regretted now with all my heart. Fortunately, he was not hit.

"Come, let us re-load our arms," I said, flinging my pistol at the boy's feet, "and let us stay in our places, which will be a saving of time."

Let me be allowed, in conclusion, to substitute the written statement of the proceedings for my own recital. My feet, as when I sustained M. Gaillardet's fire, still seemed glued where I stood.

"Bois DE VINCENNES, 17 _October_ 1834, 2.45 P.M.

"After the drawing up of our first note, the adversaries were placed at fifty paces apart, with power to advance each to within fifteen paces of one another. M. Gaillardet reached the limit and fired the first; M. Dumas fired second; neither of the shots went home. M. Dumas then declared he did not wish matters to end there, and demanded that the combat should be continued until the death of one of the two. M. Gaillardet acceded; but the seconds refused to re-load the arms. Whereupon M. Dumas proposed to continue the duel with swords. M. Gaillardet's seconds refused. Then M. Dumas urged that pistols should be re-loaded; but the seconds, after a long deliberation, and having tried to overcome his obstinacy, did not feel they could lend their countenance to a contest which could not but end fatally. Consequently the seconds withdrew and carried off the arms, and this withdrawal put an end to the duel.

"FONTAN, SOULIÉ, MAILLAN, DE LONGPRÉ"

The seconds withdrew, and I found myself alone with M. Gaillardet, Bixio and the brother of M. Gaillardet, who had come through the wood just as the firing took place. I then proposed to M. Gaillardet, as we now had two seconds and two swords, to make use of both men and arms. He refused. Thereupon Bixio and I got into the carriage and returned by the road to Paris.[1]

We set out by mail-coach a couple of hours later for Rouen, with Fontan and Dupeuty.

Bixio was twice again my second; but one of the two duels was with swords, and the other not taking place at all, he had not the chance of assuring himself as to whether a man wounded or killed by a bullet turns round before he falls. He had to make the experiment on himself.

In the month of June 1848, as, in his capacity of representative of the people, Bixio was walking with his customary courage by the Panthéon barricade, a bullet, fired from the first floor of a house in the rue Soufflot, hit him above the collar-bone, ploughed into his right lung, and, after a course of fifteen to eighteen inches, lodged near the spine. Bixio turned round three times and fell.

"_Without any doubt of it one turns round!"_ he said. The problem was solved.

(PUBLISHERS' NOTE.)

"My DEAR FOURNIER,--A decree passed by the Courts in 1832 ordered that _La Tour de Nesle_ should be printed and billed with my name alone; and this was done, in fact up to 1851, the period when it was forbidden. Now that we are going to revive it, I allow you, and even beg you, to join my name with that of Alexandre Dumas my collaborator, to whom I wish to prove that I have forgotten our old quarrels, and only remember our good relations in the past, and the large part his incomparable talent had in the success of _La Tour de Nesle._--Yours, etc., F. GAILLARDET

"PARIS, 25 _April_ 1864"

[TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.--The above note appears in the current edition of the Memoirs. In the Appendix to the Paris edition of 1854 will be found a long letter by M. F. Gaillardet, dated 12 April 1854, which Dumas did not reproduce in the Brussels edition.]

[Footnote 1: In order to close the story of this quarrel, which made such a stir in the literary world, we think we had better reproduce here the letter which M. Gaillardet, with an impulse which does him honour, wrote spontaneously to M. Marc Fournier, manager of the Porte-Saint-Martin, since the revival of _La Tour de Nesle_ at that theatre, in 1861.]