My reaction to The Last Duel (2021)

I finally got a chance to see last year's The Last Duel, by my favorite poster and director, Ridley Scott. Some of my friends were less than enthusiastic when the movie came out, but I found it based on a credible reconstruction of 14th century French culture. A few "for-instances" show: the extremely strong desire to maintain one's honor; excellent interiors; the fact that different people speak different languages in different contexts; and so forth. What I respect most about this movie is that many details are included that only the most persnickety re-enactor or medieval archaeologist would notice Yet here they are, casting a glamor of reality over the whole drama.  I have to say that some of my good friends found the helmets used to be so wrong as to be a major flaw in the movie and really put them off.  I say, sadly, persnickety!  So much is right with the movie that I can't see this as a mortal sin.

My own work on duels and deeds of arms has a curious connection with the movie The Last Duel and the preceding book of the same by Eric Jager. Around the turn of the millennium I became aware of Jager's work. Frankly, I wasn't all that impressed -- at least, not until I found out that major Hollywood studios seemed to be showing an interest in making movies based on medieval deeds of arms. One day I got a call from a studio asking whether I knew of a translation of the account of the Combat of the Thirty. That was the end -- because at this early stage of my research I had not found the sources for the Combat.

,,> Anyway, I have found my interests, if no movie. Congratulations to Professor Jager -- and my gratitude for inspiring, in part, my decision to be a little more bold.

How many at the Combat of 30?

As many of my readers know, there was an arranged battle or deed of arms between two garrisons in Brittany in March 1351. The garrison commanders supported different claimants for the ducal title. The civil war was part of the wider Hundred Years War between rival claimants to the kingdom of France, and like the wider war it was going no place. Out of boredom or frustration, the commanders agreed to have an even number of their men meet halfway between the castles and fight to the finish – death or captivity. But what was that even number? And what was the total number of participants?

Well, 30+30 equals 60, right?

The problem is that various accounts imply that there were 30 men on a side in addition to the commander himself. Were there 31 on a side for a total of 62?

About 100 years ago, H.R.Brush edited the most detailed account, a product of Brittany and therefore written by someone well acquainted with the battle, and he concluded that there were 30 participants on either side. In my article, my chapter in the book deeds of arms, and in my source reader on the combat, I followed Brush.

But, at about the same time that I finished my source reader (called the Combat of 30, volume 2 of my series Deeds of Arms), Michael Jones wrote an article called "Breton soldiers from the battle of the 30 (26 March 1351) to Nicopolis (25 September 1396)," which appeared in Adrian R. Bell et al., eds., The Soldier Experience in the 14th century (Boydell Press, 2011). Jones was very interested in the careers of Bretons in the first half of the Hundred Years War, and the best examples he could find were the men at the combat of the 30. He followed them as closely as he could, and he was able to find a quite a bit about them, at least about those on the pro-French side.

And he came to the conclusion that there were 31 on a side.

I have not gone through his list systematically checking it against Brush's (in Modern Philology).

I'd love to farm this out to Will McLean but alas he is not available.

Back in the field, April 2, 2008

I'm pining for some warm weather and some real Spring green, but there is something fascinating about the process of snow melting, forming pools, and then freezing over again. The hollow we use for our Labour Day get-together filled with rain and run-off yesterday and soldified into what looks like a perfect natural rink. (I doubt that it's strong enough to skate on, though.)

The pictures below show the Viking forge, the barrier (at the moment disassembled) for foot combats, and one of our dogs -- or is it a bear? -- in front of same barrier.