A device, peculiar to the English jurisprudence, allowed a man indicted for a capital offence to turn “approver,” by confessing the crime and charging or appealing any one he choose as an accomplice, and this appeal was usually settled by the single combat. Indeed, even when a criminal had confessed he was sometimes pardoned on condition of his being victorious in a specified number of duels, and thus compounding for his own life by the service rendered to society in relieving it of so many malefactors, as in a case in 1221 where a confessed thief “became approver to fight five battles.”[809] The custom continued to be a feature of criminal jurisprudence sufficiently important to require legislation as late as the year 1599, when the Act 41 Eliz. chap. 3 was passed to regulate the nice questions which attended appeals of several persons against one, or of one person against several. In the former case, the appellee, if victorious in the first duel, was acquitted; in the latter, the appellor was obliged to fight successively with all the appellees.[810] In civil suits the last case on record, I believe, is that of Claxton _v._ Lilburn, which shows curiously enough the indisposition to put an end to what was regarded by common consent as a solecism. A valuable estate in Durham, said to be worth more than £200 a year, was the subject in dispute. Claxton had been unsuccessful in a suit for its recovery, and had brought a new action, to which Lilburn responded, Aug. 6th, 1638, by producing in court his champion, George Cheney, in array, armed with a sandbag and battoon, who cast into the court his gauntlet with five small pence in it, and demanded battle. Claxton rejoined by producing a champion similarly armed, and gaged his battle. The court was nonplussed, putting off the proceedings from day to day, and seeking some excuse for refusing the combat. The champions were interrogated, and both admitted that they were hired for money. King Charles demanded the opinion of the Chief Justice and all his barons whether this was sufficient to invalidate the proceedings, but they unanimously replied that after battle was gaged and sureties given, such confession was no bar to its being carried out. The King then ordered his judges if possible to find some just way for its prevention, but they apparently could do nothing save procrastinate the matter for years, for in 1641 Lilburn petitioned the Long Parliament, setting forth that he had repeatedly claimed his right of battle and had produced his champion, but was ever put off by the judges finding some error in the record. Parliament thereupon ordered a bill to be brought in taking away the judicial combat.[811] It was not enacted however, and Sir Matthew Hale, writing towards the close of the century, feels obliged to describe with considerable minuteness the various niceties of the law, though he is able to speak of the combat as “an unusual trial at this day.”[812]