There was a time when laws were young, and a duel was the way to settle things.
A Germanic law book of 1230, the Sachsenspiegel, dictated anyone who had been insulted, injured or stolen from could demand one.
They must wear leather or linen with bare feet and light gloves, it dictated. The plaintiff must name a place of combat and the defendant meet him there. If he didn’t turn up after three summons, the plaintiff would go through a crazy little routine involving two cuts and two stabs against the wind: and this would render him the winner.
It was left to the French to incorporate the duel into their statutes. They had always dueled with considerable enthusiasm. Someone once calculated that during the reign of Henry IV 4,000 people were killed over a period of 18 years; and Louis XIII’s reign saw an insane number of pardons for murder committed in duels – some 8,000 over 20 years.
Apocryphal stories have grown up around the practice: high over the skies of Paris, in 1808, two French gentlemen took a couple of hot air balloons up and dueled by taking pot shots at each other’s craft. It is fabled the seconds- their witnesses and helpers- were up there too, I surmise in their own balloons, because one of the competitors managed to shoot down his second.
The Smithsonian Magazine recounts a most diverting duel involving opponents throwing billiard balls at one another.
German chancellor Otto Von Bismark once demanded satisfaction from fellow politician Rudolf Virchow, a fairytale goes: and when asked to choose a weapon of choice chose two excellent German sausages. One, unfortunately, was to be infected with the roundworm, Trichinella.
Bismark declined.
That privilege of selecting the weapon is crucial: as our family learned today, when my husband was forced to witness a real-life early morning duel.
Phil had a day working from home today. It eased that pressure on the early hours considerably because after dropping Maddie off to pick up her school coach, he could proceed to the nearby woodland to walk Macaulay the dog.
Caulay became as animated as a vortex when the lead was lifted, early, from its hook and Phil, he and Maddie headed out to the car.
The coach drove off and Phil headed off towards an unlikely complex of public amenities: a golf course and crematorium which nestle in pretty landscaped woodland ideal for dog walking.
All was perfect. The air is warm here right now, the sun was beginning to shine and the birds sang as once they serenaded Snow White.
The combatant came from nowhere, dressed in flamboyant black and yellow stripes and a whole lot huger than it ought to be.
Wasps have not made an appearance all year: but now they are out, old, dozy and outraged with the world, masquerading as hornets to the uninitiated.
As far as Macaulay the dog was concerned, this one was an interloper. Before Phil could stop him he was antagonising a creature which should be left well alone: snapping at it, enraging it, embroiling it in bitter conflict.
Snapsnapsnapsnapsnap.
Macaulay’s aim is about as accurate as an inebriate with a blunderbuss. He got nowhere near the wasp, but he gave it plenty of time to demand satisfaction and set up the field of honour.
How did this small insect know? Just how Machiavellian and quick-thinking are these creatures? In a trice it had flown behind the terrier, to the one part of him which is not covered in wiry hair: his bottom.
And he planted a great big stinger right in.
A couple of Scottie dogs walked by. Appearances mean a huge amount to Macaulay. He held in his pain and walked by, nodding gruffly at the pair.
The moment they were gone he was twisting and turning, rolling, and finally so unable was he to deal with this that he jumped straight into Phil’s arms.
On further examination the offending insect was still there. It took four swipes to knock it off. It was not for withdrawing.
The next few hours were not the most comfortable for Macaulay the dog. Sitting down was a trial. Phil and I rooted out the vet’s number: for we had absolutely no notion of what happens when a wasp stings a terrier on the bottom.
And everyone we told had a dual reaction: even Felix our dyed-in-the-wool animal lover. Oh, poor doggie, they would say, trying desperately to control the wild desire to giggle uncontrollably.
Macaulay was back to normal by lunchtime and has enjoyed a happy and productive walk int the forest this afternoon. Phil is considering making him a pair of protective doggie shorts.
Will this dog be throwing down any more gauntlets to wasps in the near future?
Let us hope so. There is nothing as odious as a sting in the tail.
Kate Shrewsday 
I laughed at this on twitter; I’m still laughing. Poor Macauley. He’d be doubly traumatised if he knew about the hilarity he’s provoked.
It’s a hard life, being a blogger’s dog, Speccy….
Poor Macaulay. I didn’t laugh at his sting but I did laugh at him jumping into Phil’s arms.
They make such a pair, those two: Phil would have done anything to take it away. A bit of cradling helped, I think…
Not perhaps the most flattering picture of him? 🙂
I loved this: ‘Macaulay’s aim is about as accurate as an inebriate with a blunderbuss’ Brilliant!
If you could have seen him, you would know that the words wrote themselves, Earlybird 😀 Much more perky on today’s walk, I am happy to report.
Oh dear, my sides are aching, Kate! No sting to remove, I take it? My GSD was travelling in the car with us when he was stung by a bee on his tongue. After being covered by lots of spit and drool, we finally got him home where he sat as good as gold having his tongue scraped with the back of a knife to remove the sting. Unfortunately he didn’t learn a thing from this, except, perhaps to snap at bees even more… I loved this post!
Any dog owner has been here, I think, Denise 😀 We were a bit less blase yesterday morning: one hand hovering over the phone… how did that wasp know? They must take canine anatomy lessons at wasp school.
Ouch, but thanks for the giggle. I needed that this morning. It’s restored my good humour!
😀 And the dog has now had his restored too….thank goodness…
Inspired use of the duel to describe poor Macaulay’s affliction. My experiences with terriers indicate that they do not easily forget. Hopefully, that will be the case the next time a stinging bug comes along. 🙂
I have a feeling you may be right, Andra….this morning he had his whole walk, and then right at the end he spotted something yellow and black. His tail went down and he stuck close all the way home. Terriers clearly don’t forget 🙂
Chuckling . . . really enjoyed this post, Kate, and the photo of your warrior.
Most terriers fancy themselves as very large dogs, and perhaps Macaulay felt compelled to re-enact some Macaulay clansman’s ancient battle?
Indeed, Karen: and I bet he felt he was being very clever picking something so small it could not possibly win as an opponent.
The clansman has never before been quite so wrong footed: the wasp certainly got its satisfaction.
As the adoptive mom of several terriers, I’ve seconded a number of duels, but none with so underhanded an opponent. Please give Mac my sympathy. Don’t tell him I was laughing when I sent it.
My lips are sealed, Kathy 😀
Well, you gave me my laugh for the day, all at the expense of poor Mcauley. However did the wasp know to advance from the rear?
A lively post today, Kate, with an interesting history of the, er, manly occupation of dueling through the ages, to the consequential insult of a dog and a wasp bringing it all to an end.
Strange thing here. We haven’t had many wasps this year. We started to notice this in late August while eating out on our deck. Usually by then the wasps are making it impossible to have food out there. Since I’m in my prairie stage, yet again, I’m hoping it doesn’t mean a nasty winter.
Do you know, we have had hardly any as well, Penny! Where can they have been? The old guard have still arrived now in their oversized suits and with the temperament of a bear with a sore head. I’m sure there’s some naturalist out there who could solve this all for us…
as an inebriate with a blunderbuss-one of the top similes of all time. Brilliant
Thanks, Carl 🙂
Thy tale hath verily rendered me speechless. Kate, I said Awww!! straight away, I might add…Poor Macauley.. . pride and pain, not a good combination…and I loved reading about his jump into Phil’s arms, asking, nay begging for the whole sorry saga to be at an ‘end’… and the tale of the Balloonists dueling…made me nearly fall of my PC chair with laughter…Foolish individuals eh? … Grrreat blog, telling of the stinging tale… 😀 xPenx
Glad the balloons caused the same reaction in you that it did in me, Pen 😀 Dualling was a life and death matter but there was so much of the absurd about it….most of all among the French…
I love it. One of our old dogs was stung by a bee on the bare skin onf her belly. There was much anxiety from said puppy. Your story reminded me of that.
Not a good experience, Eric….thanks for coming over to take a look: you made 100 words go a very long way today, I was mesmerised….
I’m glad you liked it. 🙂
Poor pup. Glad his rear is no worse for the wear. 😉
He is sleeping happily as I type, Nancy.
Sorry to hear of your pup’s discomfort. I enjoyed the historical aspects of duelling but I suspect that picking a wasp as a duelling partner is not the wisest thing! Sadly, wasps are dying at this time of the year and in the manner of elderly humans are unlikely to be approving of disagreement. We should remember all the good that they do for most of the summer by keeping other, less desirable, insects under control 🙂
They have puzzled us this year, Martin, by not appearing in their usual numbers until now: I wonder if the populations they control have been affected…
I do like the duel purpose here. 🙂
British wasps are very confusing to me. They look like bees with a stretched aspect ratio.
Our wasps are slinky things like small hornets. They like to attack from the rear. On the way back from Warmbaths many years ago I shed my pants at the roadside to rid myself of a wasp that had somehow found its way up my trouser leg and was repeatedly expressing displeasure at being sat upon.
*attempts to keep sympathetic straight face and send out waves of empathy* I presume there is no photographic evidence of this dramatic life event, Col?
Hilarious story – especially loved ‘Appearances mean a huge amount to Macaulay. He held in his pain and walked by, nodding gruffly at the pair.’
Must keep one’s end up, Gabrielle 😀 Lovely to see you!
That photo says, “Make my day, Wasp!”
It does. And it did.
Poor Macaulay! I hope he learns faster than my Golden retriever mix. She considers it her duty to rid the back deck of any wasps she finds there, even though she once came in with a huge welt on her lovely muzzle. She snaps until she knocks them out of the air, then keeps snapping, tossing, and pawing them until she’s killed them. I’m thrilled to be rid of something that always sends me running back inside, but I really wish she’d leave them alone.
Ah, golden retriever mix: one of the very best breeds of all time, such wonderful personalities. My husband grew up with a retriever/lab mix and he was one of the great friends of his teenage life. He just made it to our wedding….Phi has a theory that enough stings will make a dog immune to the venom…not something I feel inclined to let Mac test….
Annie (who is a Golden/lab mix, to be precise) keeps testing the theory, and maybe she really is immune now because I’ve not seen evidence of any more stings.
I suspect you have added a new phrase to everyone’s armoury. “Accuracy like an inebreiate with a blunderbus”
Poor Macaulay. Please give him a little pat (on the head) for me.
😀 I shall. And then I shall bolt off to wash my hands.
Ole Mac may need a rear view mirror installed to keep an eye on his “Bee-Hind”, but, likely it wont keep him from snapping at the next wasp that comes along. Will we ever learn?
Bless You
paul
I suspect not, Paul 😀
I head on sky news the other day that the gap between the two benches is two sword lengths! Must be to do with the days of old 🙂 Nice to meet you!
And you, Tandy, I feel I almost know you through Cindy’s posts….I do hope she is feeling better…..I thought your courageous grasping of the ‘ajmo’ nettle was inspired today 😀 I have never heard of it before. But the curry looked amazing….
And how about those tow sword lengths? That bears further scrutiny…off to find out more!