Brantôme relates a case somewhat similar. Ingelgerius, Count of Gastonois, having been found dead one morning by the side of his wife, a relation of his, named Gontran, not only accused her of murder, but of adultery, offering to substantiate the accusation in person. No one coming forward to defend the afflicted lady, the young Count of Anjou, Ingelgerius, her godson, to whom she had very kindly given her husband’s name, presented himself. The youth, who was only in his sixteenth year, was as anxious to defend his godmother as Cherubino could have been to defend the Countess Almaviva; and having very properly and devoutly attended mass, recommended himself to the Divine protection, distributed alms, and secured himself by carrying with him the symbol of the cross, he hastened to the lists, where he found his antagonist prepared to receive him. The countess having duly sworn both parties, the combatants rushed upon each other. The onset of Gontran was so fierce that his lance bent in the breast-plate of the youthful hero, who forthwith, no ways discouraged by the shock, ran his own through his antagonist’s body: the conqueror nimbly jumped off his horse, and most dexterously severed the slanderer’s head from his base body, and laid it at the feet of his sovereign. It is needless to add, that, the countess’s innocence being thus made manifest, she fondly embraced her liberator, who, on the following day, was promoted to high titles and estates.
The rules and regulations were not only frequently drawn out by the clergy, but ecclesiastics themselves were not always exempted from liability to a trial by battle. Thus we see in the charter of the abbey of St. Maur des Fossés, granted by Louis le Gros, that they possessed _bellandi et certificandi licentiam_.
It is recorded, in the annals of St. Bertin, that the superior of his abbey in the village of Caumont near Hesdin had to defend certain rights in the field: the abbot of St. Bertin did not make his appearance; but two snow-white doves appeared coming from the Saint himself, and were seen hovering and fluttering over the field. The champion felt so emboldened by this miracle, that he rushed upon his antagonist, and substantiated the claim of the abbey by giving an unmerciful cudgelling to his opponent. In like manner, Geoffroi du Marne, bishop of Angers, ordered certain of his monks to determine their right to tithes by a similar process.