The Spanish captain was treated with the greatest kindness, being suffered to join in all the doings of the other gentlemen, and his ransom was fixed at 1000 crowns. But after a fortnight or more he grew tired of this life and persuaded an Albanian in the garrison to procure him a horse and help him to gain his freedom, for it was only fifteen or twenty miles to his own quarters. The man agreed, tempted by a high bribe, and Don Alonzo, who was allowed to come and go as he pleased, had no difficulty in passing out through the gateway in the early morning, when he and his companion put spurs to their horses and felt assured of success. But if the Good Knight was courteous he was not careless, and when he paid his usual morning call on his prisoner he was nowhere to be found. The watch was sounded, and the absence of the Albanian was also discovered, whereupon Bayard sent off in instant pursuit and Don Alonzo was overtaken within two miles of Andria, where he had dismounted to fasten the girth of his saddle which was broken. The Albanian managed to reach the Spanish quarter, for he knew that the penalty of his treachery would be hanging, and the Spanish knight was brought back to Monervine.

When Bayard met him he said: "How is it that you have broken your faith, my lord Don Alonzo? I will trust you no more, for it is not a knightly deed to escape from a place when you are on parole." The prisoner tried to excuse himself by vowing that he only went to fetch his ransom as he was troubled by receiving no news of his own people. But this did not avail him much, for he was kept in close confinement in a tower, but otherwise very well treated in the way of food and drink. After about another fortnight a trumpeter arrived to announce that the ransom was coming, and when this was duly paid, Don Alonzo took a friendly leave of his captors, having had time to notice that the Good Knight kept not a penny of the money for himself, but divided it all amongst his soldiers.

But the story does not end here, for this recreant knight was ungrateful enough to complain to his friends in the most outrageous manner of the treatment which he had received during his captivity. When this came to the knowledge of the Good Knight he was justly indignant, as were all his companions, and he at once wrote a letter to Don Alonzo, calling upon him to withdraw these untrue words, or to accept a challenge to mortal combat. This he sent by a trumpeter, and also offered his foe the choice of weapons, and whether the contest should be on foot or on horseback.

The Spanish captain sent back an insolent answer, saying that he would not withdraw anything he had said, and that he would prove his words in mortal combat within twelve days, two miles from the walls of Andria. In fixing this date he knew that Bayard was ill at the time with a quartan fever. But the Good Knight would not let such a small matter interfere with his knightly honours, and when the day arrived he rode to the spot appointed, with the Sire de la Palisse and his friend Bellabre as his seconds, and about two hundred men-at-arms as a guard of honour.

Bayard was clothed in white as a mark of humility and rode a splendid horse, but as Don Alonzo had not appeared, a trumpeter was sent to hasten his coming. When he was told that the Good Knight was on horseback with the usual armour, he exclaimed: "How is this? I was to choose the arms. Trumpeter, go and tell him that I will fight on foot." He said this, thinking that the illness of Bayard would make it quite impossible for him; and the trumpeter was greatly surprised, as all had been arranged for a duel on horseback, and this looked like a way of retreat for the Spaniard. Ill as he was Bayard showed no hesitation, and with the courage of a lion declared that he was willing to avenge his honour in any guise. The arms chosen were a sharp-pointed sword or rapier and a poignard, while the armour used included a throat-piece (gorgerin) and a secrete.[1]

[Footnote 1: Secrete, a kind of steel skull-cap, often worn under the helmet.]

When the camp was duly prepared and the champions in face of each other, Bayard knelt down and made his prayer to God, then he bent to kiss the earth, and rising, made the sign of the cross before he advanced to meet his enemy. Don Alonzo addressed him in these words: "Lord of Bayard, what do you seek from me?" And he replied: "I wish to defend my honour." Then began the mortal combat between these two valiant men-at-arms, and never was seen more splendid skill and courage. The rapier of the Good Knight slightly wounded the face of Don Alonzo, who carefully guarded this most vulnerable part, but his foe waited until he raised his arm for the next attack, and then aimed at his neck, and notwithstanding the tempered steel of his armour, Bayard's onslaught was so tremendous that the throat-piece (gorgerin) was pierced and the rapier, having no sharp edges (it was only used for thrusting) was driven in so far that it could not be withdrawn. Don Alonzo, feeling himself wounded unto death, dropped his sword and seized the Good Knight in his arms, the two wrestling fiercely until they both fell on the ground.

The terrible struggle lasted for some time, until Bayard struck his foe on the visor with his poignard and cried: "Don Alonzo, recognise your fault and cry for mercy to God...." But the Spanish knight made no reply, for he was already dead.

Then his second, Don Diego, said: "Seigneur Bayard, he is dead, you have conquered;" which was proved, for they took off his visor and he breathed no more. This was a sad trouble to the victor, for he would have given all he had in the world to have vanquished him alive. Then the Good Knight knelt down and thanked God humbly for his success. Afterwards he turned to the dead knight's second and asked: "My lord Don Diego, have I done enough?"

"Too much, indeed, my lord Bayard, for the honour of Spain," was the pitiful reply. Then the Good Knight gave leave that honourable burial should be accorded to Don Alonzo, and his friends bore away the body of their champion with sad lamentation. But we may imagine the joy and triumph with which the noble company present and the French men-at-arms accompanied their hero back to the castle of Monervine.

This duel and the passages-of-arms before with Don Alonzo spread the fame of Bayard throughout all Europe; indeed, his wonderful renown as the flower of all chivalry really dates from this time. You may imagine how bitter the Spaniards were and how they sought for revenge.

After the battle of Cerignola, fought on April 28, 1503, Gonzalvo, the Great Captain, entered Naples in triumph. When this disastrous news reached France, Louis XII. hastened to send a fresh army, commanded by la Tremouille, to reinforce the troops already in Apulia and Calabria. The French general fell ill, and his authority passed into the hands of the Marquis of Mantua, who found himself opposed and beaten back at every point by the genius of Gonzalvo.

At length the two armies came to a stand on either side of the River Garigliano, one of the broadest rivers of Southern Italy, falling into the Gulf of Gaeta. The French had possession of the right bank of the river, close to the rising ground, and had therefore a more favourable position than the marshy swamp on the lower side, in which the Spanish forces remained encamped for fifty days. It was a fearful time, in the dead of winter, with excessive rains, and the soldiers in both camps were driven to the last verge of endurance, while numbers sickened and died. Under these depressing circumstances the bright, cheerful spirit of Bayard, the Good Knight, was invaluable, and his mere presence kept his company in hope and courage. He never missed an opportunity of engaging in any feat of arms, and his famous defence of the bridge is perhaps the best known of all his exploits.

There was a bridge across the Garigliano which was in the hands of the French, and one day a certain Don Pedro de Pas, a Spanish captain, small and dwarfish in body but great in soul, conceived a plan for obtaining possession of it. With about a hundred horsemen he set off to cross the river by a ford which he knew of, and behind each horseman he had placed a foot-soldier, armed with an "arquebuse." Don Pedro did this in order to raise an alarm in the French camp, so that the whole army might rush to defend it, and leave unprotected the bridge, which would then be seized by the Spaniards. Bayard, who always chose the post of danger, was encamped close to the bridge, and with him was a brave gentleman, named le Basco. When they heard the noise they armed themselves at once, and mounted their horses in haste to rush to the fray. But as the Good Knight happened to look across the river he caught sight of about two hundred Spanish horsemen riding straight towards the bridge, which they would certainly have taken without much resistance, and this would have meant the total destruction of the French army.



Then the Good Knight cried to his companion, "My lord the Equerry, my friend, go instantly and fetch our men to guard this bridge, or we are all lost; meantime I will do my best to amuse them until you come, but make all haste." This he did, and the Good Knight, lance in rest, galloped across the bridge to the other end, where the Spaniards were on the point of passing. But, like a lion in his rage, Bayard rushed at them with so furious an onset that two or three of the foremost men were driven back and hurled into the water, from whence they rose no more, for the river was wide and deep. For a moment they were driven back, but seeing there was only one knight they attacked him so furiously that it was a marvel he could resist them. But he came to a stand against the barrier of the bridge that they might not get behind him, and made so desperate a fight with his sword, raining blows on all who came near, that he seemed to the Spaniards more a demon than a man.

In vain they cast pikes, lances, and other arms against him; the Good Knight seemed to bear a charmed life. In fact, so well and so long did he defend himself that his foes began to feel a superstitious dread of this invincible champion when, after the space of full half an hour, his friend, le Basco, arrived with a hundred men-at-arms.

The historian Champier adds that when Bayard saw help approaching he cried, with a loud voice, "Haste ye, noble Frenchmen, and come to my help." Not satisfied with driving back the Spaniards from the bridge, the gallant little company pursued them for a good mile, and would have done more but they saw in the distance a great company of seven or eight hundred Spanish horsemen.

With all his dauntless courage, Bayard had the instinct of a good general, and he said to his companions: "Gentlemen, we have done enough to-day in saving the bridge; let us now retire in as close order as possible." His advice was taken, and they began to retreat at a good pace, the Good Knight always remaining the last and bearing all the brunt of the rear attack. This became more difficult every minute, as his horse, on which he had fought all that day, was so worn out that it could scarcely stand.

All of a sudden there was a great rush of the enemy, sweeping like a flood over the French men-at-arms, so that many were thrown to the ground. The horse of the Good Knight was driven back against a ditch, where he was surrounded by twenty or thirty horsemen, who cried: "Surrender, surrender, my lord!" Still fighting to the last, he could only make answer: "Gentlemen, I must indeed yield to you, for, being alone, I can no longer fight against your might."

If all the accounts of contemporary historians did not agree on the subject we could hardly believe that one hero could keep back two hundred men at the narrow entrance of the bridge for close upon half an hour. That after so tremendous a fight Bayard could pursue the enemy, and defend the rear of his retiring companions, is indeed a marvellous achievement. The wonder is not that he was taken prisoner at last, but that he should have held out so long.

Meantime all his companions had ridden straight to their bridge, believing that the Good Knight was amongst them, but of a sudden a certain gentleman from Dauphine exclaimed: "We have lost all, my friends! The Captain Bayard is dead or taken, for he is not in our company. I vow to God that if I am to go alone I will return and seek him...." On hearing this the whole troop turned their horses and set off at full gallop after the Spaniards, who were bearing away with them the flower of all chivalry. But they did not know it, for Bayard was aware that if they heard his name he should never escape alive, and to all their inquiries he only made answer that he was a gentleman. They had not even taken the trouble to disarm him.

Of a sudden he heard his companions arrive in pursuit, shouting: "France! France! Turn, turn, ye Spaniards; not thus shall you carry away the flower of chivalry." Taken by surprise, the enemy received the French charge with some disorder, and as men and horses gave way, the Good Knight saw his opportunity, and without putting his foot in the stirrup, sprang upon a fine horse whose rider was thrown, and as soon as he was mounted, cried: "France! France! Bayard! Bayard! whom you have let go!" When the Spaniards heard the name and saw what a mistake they had made to leave him his arms (without requiring his parole, which he would certainly have kept), they lost heart and turned back towards their camp, while the French, overjoyed at having recovered their "Good Knight without Fear and without Reproach"—their one ideal of chivalry and honour—galloped home over the famous bridge. We do not wonder that for many days after they could talk of nothing but this thrilling adventure and the gallant exploits of Bayard.



CHAPTER V

The wars of Italy had a wonderful fascination for Louis XII., and he eagerly united with the Emperor, the King of Spain, and the Pope in the League of Cambray against Venice, hated for her great wealth and success.

In the spring of 1509 the King collected another army, in which he made a great point of the foot-soldiers, whose importance he fully appreciated, and for the first time he chose captains of high renown to command them. He sent for Bayard and said to him: "You know that I am crossing the mountains to fight the Venetians, who have taken Cremona from me, and other places. I am giving you the command of a company of men-at-arms ... but that can be led by your lieutenant, Captain Pierre du Pont, while I wish you to take charge of a number of foot-soldiers."

"Sire," replied the Good Knight, "I will do what you wish; but how many foot-soldiers do you propose to give me?"

"One thousand," said the King; "no man has more."

But Bayard suggested that five hundred of these soldiers, carefully chosen, would be quite enough for one man to command if he did his duty thoroughly, and to this the King agreed, bidding the Good Knight bring them to join his army in the duchy of Milan.

The important city of Padua, which had been restored to the Emperor Maximilian, was left through his carelessness with a small garrison of only 800 "landsknechte" (German foot-soldiers). Two Venetian captains contrived an ingenious stratagem for recovering the city. It was the month of July by this time, and immense waggons of hay, from the second mowing, were entering Padua every day. A number of Venetians made an ambush under some thick trees about a bow-shot from the walls, then they hid behind the hay-waggons and crept in through the gates, which at a given signal they opened to their comrades. The German soldiers, taken by surprise, were put to death, and the command was given to the brave General Pitigliano, who repaired and strengthened the fortifications, knowing of what immense importance this city was to his Republic.

Maximilian was extremely annoyed by the loss of Padua, and collected a great army, composed of men from all the allies, to besiege it. He also brought to bear against it the strongest artillery ever used—one hundred and six pieces of cannon and six immense mortars, "so heavy that they could not be raised on gun-carriages, they could only be loaded with stones, and were fired off not more than four times a day." The city was strongly fortified and defended, and it was decided to attack the most important gate which led to Vicenza. This being a most perilous enterprise, the command was given to Bayard of the attacking party. The gate was approached by a long, straight road between deep ditches, and there were four great barriers at two hundred steps from each other, all thoroughly defended. There was a fierce contest at every one of these barriers, and many gallant knights fell in the attack, but the last one was the worst, for it was only a stone's-throw from the battlements. The besieged rained stones on them with their artillery, and the assault lasted more than an hour with pike and battle-axe.

Then the Good Knight, seeing that this became tedious, cried to his companions: "Gentlemen, these men give us too much play; let us charge on foot and gain this barrier." Thirty or forty men-at-arms sprang from their horses and with raised visors dashed at the barrier with their lances, but the Venetians met them again and again with fresh relays of men. Then Bayard shouted: "At this rate, gentlemen, they will keep us here for six years; we must give them a desperate assault and let each man do as I do!" This they promised, and the trumpet was sounded, when with one tremendous rush they drove back the defenders by the length of a lance, and with a ringing war-cry Bayard sprang over the barrier followed by his friends. When the French saw the danger in which these gallant men were, there was such a charge against the final barrier that the enemy was driven back in disorder into the town. Thus the approaches were gained, and the Emperor's artillery was brought forward, and remained there for six weeks until the siege was raised.

A few days later the Good Knight heard, through one of his spies, that in the castle of Bassano, about thirty miles off, there was a strong company of cross-bowmen and horsemen, who made a point of sallying out from the castle and seizing all the supplies of cattle which were on the way to the camp. They were said to have four or five hundred oxen and cows already within their walls. Bayard felt that this must be put a stop to, and his picked companions readily joined him, for this fighting was their very life and they asked for nothing better. So they set forth an hour before daybreak and rode steadily towards Bassano, till they reached a place where the spy pointed out to them a little wooden bridge which the band from Treviso would have to cross, where two men could keep five hundred in check. This the Good Knight left to be defended by a few men-at-arms and archers, who were to remain in ambush until they had seen the troop from Treviso go by, and await their return. Then Bayard gave directions to one of his company to take thirty archers with him, and when he saw the enemy well on their way he was to advance as though to skirmish with them, then suddenly pretend to be frightened and ride off at full gallop in the direction where the main French force was hidden behind rising ground. This was all carried out, and the Good Knight with his men rushed forth upon the pursuers, taking many prisoners, while the rest escaped in the direction of Treviso, but were stopped at that wooden bridge and compelled to fight or yield.

When the fighting was over, Bayard said: "Gentlemen, we really must take that castle with all the spoils in it." When it was pointed out to him that it was very strong and they had no artillery, he remarked that he knew a way by which they might possess it in a quarter of an hour. So he sent for the two captains who were taken and said to them: "I insist that the castle be surrendered to me at once, for I know that you have the power to command it, otherwise you will lose your heads." They saw that he was in earnest, and one, who was the seneschal, sent orders to his nephew and the gates were opened.

The Good Knight took possession of the castle, and within the walls of Treviso found more than five hundred head of cattle and much other booty, which was all sold later at Vicenza and divided amongst the victors. As Bayard sat at table with the two Venetian captains, a young page of his, named Boutieres, came in to show a prisoner he had taken during the fighting—a big man twice his size. The boy had seen this standard-bearer trying to escape, had made a rush at him with his lance, struck him to the ground, and called upon him to surrender. He had given up his sword, to Boutieres' great delight, and the lad of sixteen, with the standard he had taken and his sturdy-looking prisoner, had caused great amusement in the French company. When he was thus brought into the dining-hall before his own captains, the standard-bearer looked very much ashamed of himself, and protested that he had simply yielded to the force of numbers, not to that boy. Thereupon Boutieres offered to give the man back his horse and his arms and to fight him in single combat. If the standard-bearer won he should go free without ransom; but if the young page won the man should die. The Good Knight was delighted at this brave offer, but the Venetian was afraid to accept it, and all the honour remained with the boy, who was known to come of a brave race and proved himself worthy in the days to come.

Most of the French army retired into the duchy of Milan, but Bayard appears to have remained behind with the garrison of Verona. By one of those rapid changes so common in Italian politics, before the end of the year Louis XII. found himself deserted by most of the allies, the Pope, the King of Spain, Henry VIII., and the Swiss having joined the "Holy League" to drive the French out of Italy.



CHAPTER VI

While Bayard was with the garrison at Verona, in command of three or four hundred men-at-arms who had been lent to the Emperor by the King of France, he had some stirring adventures. It was winter time, and that year, 1509, was long remembered for its severity. The soldiers in the town were obliged to send for their horses' forage sometimes to a great distance, and they were constantly losing both horses and varlets, who were waylaid by the enemy, so that a large escort was necessary, for not a day passed without some encounter.

Now there was a village called San Bonifacio about fifteen miles from Verona, where a certain Venetian captain, named Giovanni Paolo Manfroni, was stationed with a number of men, and he amused himself by chasing the foraging parties up to the very gates of Verona. The Good Knight at last became very angry at this bold defiance, and he resolved to put an end to these raids by going out with the escort himself the next time that hay was fetched from the farms round. He kept his plans as secret as possible, but Manfroni had a spy in the city who managed to let him know what was on foot, and he resolved to take so strong a force that he would make sure of capturing the famous Bayard.

One Thursday morning the foragers set forth from Verona as usual, and in their train were thirty or forty men-at-arms and archers under the command of the captain, Pierre du Pont, a very wise and capable young man. The party soon left the highroad to look out for the farms where they were to receive the usual loads of hay. Meantime, the Good Knight, not suspecting that his plan was betrayed, had taken a hundred men-at-arms and gone to a little village called San Martino about six miles from Verona. From thence he sent out some scouts, who were not long in returning with the news that the enemy was in sight, about five hundred horsemen, who were marching straight after the foragers. The Good Knight was delighted to hear it, and at once set out to follow them with his company.

But Manfroni, who had heard of the whole manoeuvre from his spy, had prepared an ambush in a deserted palace near, where he had about six hundred pikemen and arquebusiers. These men were not to stir until they saw him and his party in retreat, pretending to flee from the French pursuit; then they were at once to follow and so completely enclose and defeat Bayard's company.

The Good Knight had not gone two miles through the fields when he overtook the Venetians and marched straight towards them, shouting, "Empire and France!" They made some show of resistance, but soon began to retreat along the lane towards their ambush, where they halted just beyond it, crying "Marco! Marco!" and began to make a valiant defence. On hearing the familiar cry of Venice, the foot-soldiers gave a tremendous shout and rushed furiously upon the French, shooting with their arquebuses, a shot from which struck Bayard's horse between the legs and killed him. Seeing their dear master on the ground, his men-at-arms, who would all have died for him, made a mighty charge, and a gentleman of Dauphine, named Grammont, sprang from his horse and fought side by side with Bayard. But the two were of no avail against the Venetians, who took them prisoners and were about to disarm them.

Captain Pierre du Pont, who was with the forage party, heard the noise and instantly galloped up, finding his captain and Grammont in evil case; for already they were being drawn out of the crowd to be taken to a place of safety. He was only just in time, but he struck out at the captors like a lion, and the men, taken by surprise, let their prisoners escape, and retreated to their troop, which was having a furious fight with the French. The Good Knight and Grammont were soon on horseback again, and hastened back to the relief of their men, who were now attacked front and back, with four to one against them, and the arquebusiers were doing them a lot of damage. Then the Good Knight said to his nephew, Captain Pierre du Pont: "My friend, we are lost if we do not gain the highroad, but if we are once there, we will retire in spite of them, and shall be saved, with the help of God."

"I agree with you," replied his nephew. Then they began to retreat steadily, step by step, towards the highroad, fighting all the way, and they reached it at last, though not without much trouble, while the enemy lost both foot-soldiers and horsemen. When the French at length reached the highroad which led to Verona, they closed in together, and began to retire very gently, turning upon the foe with a gallant attack every two hundred feet.

But all the time they had those arquebusiers at their heels constantly firing upon them, so that at the last charge once more the Good Knight had his horse killed under him. Before it fell he sprang to the ground and defended himself in a wonderful way with his sword; but he was soon surrounded and would have been killed, but at that moment his standard-bearer, du Fay, with his archers, made so desperate a charge that he rescued his captain from the very midst of the Venetians, set him upon another horse, and then closed in with the others.

The night was drawing near, and the Good Knight commanded that there should be no more charging, as they had done enough for their honour, and the gallant little party found a safe refuge in the village of San Martino, in the midst of cypresses, whence they had started in the morning. This was about four miles from Verona, and the Venetian captain felt that further pursuit would be dangerous as help would probably arrive from Verona. So he caused the retreat to sound, and set out to return to San Bonifacio, but on the way his foot-soldiers, who were quite worn out, having fought for about five hours, begged to be allowed to stay at a village some miles short of San Bonifacio. Manfroni did not much approve of this, but he let them have their way, while he and his horsemen rode on to their usual quarters, feeling much disgusted that they had been galloped about all day with so little to show for it.

That night the French lodged in the village of San Martino, and they feasted joyfully upon such provisions as they could find, feeling very proud of their success, for they had scarcely lost any men in comparison with the enemy. They were still at supper when one of their spies arrived from San Bonifacio, and he was brought before Bayard, who asked what the Venetians were doing. He replied:

"Nothing much; they are in great force inside San Bonifacio, and the rumour goes that they will soon have Verona, for they have a strong party within the city. As I was starting the Captain Manfroni arrived, very hot and angry, and I heard him say that he had been fighting against a lot of devils from hell and not men. As I was coming here I passed through a village which I found quite full of their foot-soldiers, who are spending the night there, and to look at them I should say that they are quite tired out."

Then said the Good Knight: "I warrant that those are their foot-soldiers we fought against to-day, who would not walk any further. If you feel disposed we will go and take them. The moon is bright to-night, let us feed our horses and at about three or four o'clock we will go and wake them."

This suggestion was quite approved of; they all did their best with the horses, and after having set the watch, they all went to rest. But Bayard was too full of his enterprise to take any sleep; so towards three hours after midnight he quietly roused his men and set forth with them on horseback, riding in perfect silence to the village where the Venetian foot-soldiers were staying. He found them, as he had expected, fast asleep "like fat pigs," without any watch as far as he could see. The new-comers began to shout, "Empire! Empire! France! France!" and to this joyous cry the bumpkins awoke, coming one by one out of their shelter to be slain like beasts. Their captain, accompanied by two or three hundred men, threw himself into the market-place and tried to make a stand there; but no time was given him, for he was charged from so many directions that he and all his men were attacked and defeated, so that only three remained alive. These were the captain and two other gentlemen, who were brothers, and afterwards were exchanged for French gentlemen who were in prisons at Venice.

Having accomplished their work, the Good Knight and his company made their way back to Verona, where they were received with great honour. On the other hand, when the Venetians heard of the loss of their men they were furious, and the Doge Andrea Gritti sharply blamed Manfroni for leaving them behind.

We may mention here that this Giovanni Paolo Manfroni was a splendid soldier and one of the finest captains of men-at-arms in Italy at this period.

Manfroni had a certain spy, who often went backwards and forwards between Venona and San Bonifacio, and who served both him and the Good Knight; but those treacherous spies always serve one better than the other, and this one hoped for the most gain from the Venetian.

So one day Manfroni said to him: "You must go to Verona and let Captain Bayard know that the Council of Venice wish me to be sent in command of Lignano, a fortified town on the Adige, as the present governor is ordered to the Levant with a number of galleys. Tell Bayard that you know for certain that I start to-morrow at dawn with three hundred light horsemen, and that I shall have no foot-soldiers with me. I am sure that he will never let me pass without a skirmish, and if he comes I trust he will be killed or taken, for I shall have an ambush at Isola della Scale (about fifteen miles south of Verona) of two hundred men-at-arms and two thousand foot-soldiers. If you manage for him to meet me there I promise on my faith to give you two thousand ducats of gold."

This precious scoundrel readily promised that he would not fail to do so. He went off straight to Verona, and to the lodging of the Good Knight, where he was admitted at once, for all the people there believed him to be entirely in the service of their master. They brought him in as soon as Bayard had finished supper, and he was warmly welcomed. "Well, Vizentin, I am glad to see you. You do not come without some reason; tell me, what news have you?"



"My lord, I have very good news, thank God!" was the reply. The Good Knight at once rose from table and drew the spy on one side, to learn what was going on, who repeated the lesson he had learned. Bayard was delighted at the prospect before him, and gave orders that Vizentin was to be well feasted. Then he called together the Captain Pierre du Pont, La Varenne, his flag-bearer du Fay, and a certain Burgundian captain of "landsknechte," Hannotin de Sucker, who had fought with him in most of his Italian wars. He told these friends what he had heard from the spy, and how Manfroni was going to Lignano on the morrow with only three hundred horsemen. Then he added that, if his good companions would join him, these Venetians would not finish their journey without a little fighting, but the matter must be seen to at once.

It was settled that they should start at daybreak and take two hundred men-at-arms. Hannotin de Sucker had his lodging at the other end of the town, and while he was on his way home he chanced to see the spy coming out of the house of a man who was known to be on the Venetian side. The Burgundian captain at once suspected treason; he seized Vizentin by the collar and asked him what he was doing. The man, taken by surprise, changed colour and prevaricated so much that the captain at once took him back to Bayard's lodging. He found his friend just going to bed, but the two sat together over the fire, while the spy was carefully guarded.

Hannotin explained why he felt sure that there was something wrong. Bayard at once sent for the spy, of whom he inquired his reason for going to the house of Messire Baptiste Voltege, the suspected person. In his fright the spy gave five or six different explanations; but the Good Knight said to him: "Vizentin, tell the truth without hiding anything, and I promise, on the word of a true gentleman, that whatever it may be, even if my death has been conspired for, I will do you no harm. But, on the other hand, if I catch you in a lie, you will be hung to-morrow at break of day."

The spy saw that he was caught, so he knelt down and begged for mercy, which was again positively promised him. Then he told the whole story from beginning to end of the proposed treachery; how Manfroni would have an ambush of two hundred men-at-arms and two thousand foot-soldiers to make sure of Bayard's destruction. The spy owned that he had been to the house of Baptiste to tell him of this enterprise, and to advise him to find means some night to have one of the city gates opened to the Venetians, but he added that Baptiste had refused to do this.

When he had made an end of his confession the Good Knight said to him: "Vizentin, my money has certainly been wasted upon you, for you are a bad and treacherous man ... You have deserved death, but I will keep my promise and you shall be safe with me, but I advise you to keep out of sight, for others may not spare you."

The spy was taken away to be closely guarded, and Bayard said to his friend, the Burgundian captain:

"What shall we do to this Captain Manfroni who thinks to take us by a trick? We must pay him out, and if you do what I ask you we will carry out one of those splendid adventures which were done a hundred years ago." "My lord, you have only to command and you will be obeyed," was the simple reply.

"Then go at once to the lodging of the Prince of Hainault, and with my compliments tell him the whole story. Then you must persuade him to send us to-morrow morning two thousand of his 'landsknechte,' and we will take them with us and leave them somewhere in ambush. If something wonderful does not result you may blame me!"

Hannotin de Sucker started at once and went to the quarters of the Prince, who was asleep in bed. He was roused immediately and soon heard all that his visitor had to tell. This courteous Prince, who loved war better than anything else, was also such a devoted admirer of the Good Knight that he could have refused him nothing. He replied that he only wished he had heard of this sooner, as he would have joined the party himself, but Bayard could dispose of his soldiers as if they were his own. He instantly sent his secretary to four or five of his most trusted captains, who, to make a long story short, were ready at daybreak to meet the men-at-arms who had known of the expedition overnight. They all met at the city gate and set forth from the city towards Isola della Scala, and the Good Knight said to Hannotin: "You and the 'landsknechte' must remain in ambush at Servode (a little village two miles from Isola), and do not be uneasy for I will draw our foes under your very nose, so that you will have plenty of honour to-day if you are a gallant comrade."

All was carried out as arranged, for when the men in ambush were left behind, all the rest of the brave company galloped on to Isola, as if they knew nothing of what awaited them. They were in an open plain, where there was a good view from all sides, and presently they saw the Captain Manfroni riding towards them with his small company of light horsemen. The Good Knight sent forward his standard-bearer, du Fay, with some archers for a little skirmish, while he rode after them at a good pace with the men-at-arms. But he had not gone far when he saw, coming briskly out of the town of Isola, the Venetian foot-soldiers and a troop of men-at-arms. He made a show of being surprised, and bade the trumpeter sound to recall his standard. When du Fay heard this, according to his orders, he began to retire with his company, which closed up round him, and pretended to be going straight back to Verona, but really went slowly towards the village where their "landsknechte" were hiding. An archer had already been sent on to tell Captain Sucker to make ready for the fight.

Meantime the men of Venice, with their combined troops, charged the small company of Frenchmen, making such a noise that thunder would not have been heard, for they felt quite sure that their prey could not escape them. The French kept well together and skirmished so cleverly that they were soon within a bow-shot from Servode, when the "landsknechte" of the Prince of Hainault rushed forth in close ranks from their ambush, and at the word of command from Bayard charged the Venetians, who were astounded. But they were good fighting men and made a bold stand, although many were borne to the ground by the terrible long spears of their enemies. Manfroni made a splendid resistance, but he could do nothing to help his foot-soldiers, who could not escape by flight, as they were too far from any refuge; and he was compelled to see them cut up and destroyed before his eyes. The Venetian captain soon saw that his only chance was to retreat or he must be killed, if not taken prisoner, so he galloped off at full speed towards San Bonifacio. He was followed for some distance, but the Good Knight then caused the retreat to be sounded, and the pursuers returned, but with great spoils of prisoners and horses.

The loss of the Venetians was very great, for none of the foot-soldiers escaped, and there were about sixty prisoners of importance who were taken to Verona, where the successful French, Burgundians, and "landsknechte" were received with the utmost joy by their companions, whose only regret was that they had missed the fray. Thus ended this gallant adventure which brought great honour and praise to the Good Knight. When he returned to his lodging he sent for the spy, to whom he said:

"Vizentin, according to my promise I will set you free. You can go to the Venetian camp and ask the Captain Manfroni if the Captain Bayard is as clever in war as he is. Say that if he wants to take me he will find me in the fields."

He sent two of his archers to conduct the spy out of the town, and the man went at once to San Bonifacio, where Manfroni had him taken and hung as a traitor, without listening to any excuse.



CHAPTER VII

When war began again in Italy at the close of the year 1510, Louis XII. found that he had no allies except the Duke of Ferrara and some Swiss mercenaries. Pope Julius II. had joined forces with the Venetians in his eager desire to drive the French out of Italy, and he was also extremely wroth with Alfonso, Duke of Ferrara. He sent word to the widowed Countess of Mirandola that she should give up her city into his hands, as he required it for his attack upon Ferrara.

When at length the brave defenders had been compelled to yield their citadel, Pope Julius refused to take possession of the conquered city in the usual way by riding in through the gate; he had a bridge thrown across the frozen moat and climbed in through a breach in the walls. It must have been a gallant sight to look upon, when he politely escorted the angry Countess of Mirandola out of the home she had so bravely defended, while she held her head high and boldly spoke her mind, with pride and assurance as great as his own.

When news of the fall of Mirandola reached the Duke of Ferrara he expected that the next move would be an attack on Ferrara itself. He therefore destroyed the bridge which he had made across the Po, and retreated with all his army to his own strong city. The Castello of Ferrara, in the very heart of the city, standing four-square with its mighty crenellated towers, was one of the most famous fortresses of Italy and was believed to be impregnable; only by famine could it be taken.

The Pope's wisest captains and his nephew, the Duke of Urbino, pointed out that Ferrara was thoroughly fortified, well provided with artillery of the newest make, and was defended by an army of well-tried soldiers, amongst whom was the French company commanded by Bayard. One noted Venetian captain thus gave his opinion: "Holy Father, we must prevent any provisions arriving at Ferrara by the river, and also from Argenta and the country round, which is very rich and fertile. But this we shall scarcely accomplish unless we take La Bastida, a place about twenty-five miles from Ferrara; but if once this fortress is in our hands we can starve out the city in two months, considering what a number of people are within its walls."

Pope Julius saw the point at once and exclaimed: "Certainly, we must have that place; I shall not rest until it is taken."

We may imagine the dismay of the governor of La Bastida when he saw a formidable army arrive, for it happened at the time that he had only a weak garrison. He instantly sent off a messenger to Ferrara, before the castle was surrounded and the artillery set in position, pointing out the extreme peril and the absolute need of immediate help. The trusty man made such haste that he reached Ferrara about noon, having taken hardly six hours on the way. It so chanced that he met Bayard at the city gate, and on the Good Knight asking what news he brought, he replied:

"My lord, I come from La Bastida, which is besieged by seven or eight thousand men, and the commander sends me to tell the Duke that if he does not receive help he will not be able to hold the place until to-morrow night if they try to take it by assault ... for he has only twenty-five men of war within the walls...."

Bayard at once hastened with him to the Duke, whom he met riding in the market-place with the lord of Montboison. They thought at first that a spy had been taken, but soon learnt that he was the bearer of bad news. As the Duke read the letter which the commander had written he turned pale, and when he had finished he shrugged his shoulders and said: "If I lose La Bastida I may as well abandon Ferrara, and I do not see how we can possibly send help within the time mentioned, for he implores assistance before to-morrow morning, and it is impossible."

"Why?" asked the lord of Montboison.

"Because it is five-and-twenty miles from here, and in this bad weather it will be more than that," replied the Duke. "There is a narrow way for about half a mile where the men will have to go one after the other. Besides, there is another thing, for if our enemies knew of a certain passage twenty men could hold it against ten thousand, but I trust they will not discover it."

When the Good Knight saw how distressed the Duke was, he said:

"My lord, when a small matter is at stake we may hesitate; but when we are threatened with utter destruction we must try any means. The enemies are before La Bastida, and they are quite confident that we shall not dare to leave this city to raise the siege, knowing that the great army of the Pope is so near us. I have thought of a plan which will be easy to carry out, if fortune is with us.

"You have in this town four or five thousand foot-soldiers, well hardened and good soldiers; let us take two thousand of them with eight hundred Swiss under Captain Jacob and send them this night in boats up the river. You are still master of the Po as far as Argenta; they will go and wait for us at the passage you spoke of. If they arrive there first they will take it, and the men-at-arms who are in this town will ride by the road all this night. We shall have good guides and will so manage as to arrive by daybreak and thus join the others; our enemies will have no suspicion of this enterprise. From the passage you spoke of it is three miles or less to La Bastida; before they have time to put themselves in order of battle we will attack them sharply, and my heart tells me that we shall defeat them."

The Duke, delighted, replied with a smile: "Upon my word, Sir Bayard, nothing seems impossible to you! But I believe that if the gentlemen who are here agree with you, we shall indeed win...." No one made any difficulty; on the contrary, the captains of the men-at-arms were so delighted that, as the chronicler says, "they thought they were in Paradise." The boats were all prepared as quietly and secretly as possible, for in the city there were known to be many friends of the Pope.

Fortunately it was the dead of winter, when the nights were long. As soon as it was dark the foot-soldiers embarked in the boats, which were provided with trusty and experienced boatmen. The horsemen, led by the Duke in person, also set forth as soon as the twilight came; they took good guides, and had a safe journey notwithstanding the stormy weather. Thus it happened that half an hour before dawn they arrived at the narrow passage, where all was lonely and quiet, at which they rejoiced greatly. They had not been waiting half an hour before the boats arrived with the foot-soldiers.

The men landed and then marched slowly by a narrow path until they reached a very deep canal between the Po and La Bastida, where they had to cross a little bridge so narrow that they had to go one after the other. This took a whole hour to cross, so that it was now quite daylight, which made the Duke anxious, more especially as, hearing no sound of artillery, he feared the fortress had been taken. But just as he was speaking about it there thundered forth three cannon shots, at which all the company was delighted. They were now only a mile from the enemy, and the Good Knight said:

"Gentlemen, I have always heard it said that he is a fool who makes light of his foes; we are now close to ours, and they are three to one. If they knew of our enterprise it would be very bad for us, as they have artillery and we have none. Besides, I believe that on this occasion all the flower of the Pope's army is before us; we must take them by surprise if possible. I would propose sending du Fay with fifteen or twenty horsemen to sound the alarm on the side from which the enemy came, and Captain Pierre du Pont with a hundred men-at-arms should be within a bow-shot to support him, and we will also send him Captain Jacob with his Swiss. You, my lord," he said to the Duke, "with my lord of Montboison, my companions and myself, we will go straight to the siege, and I will go in front to give the alarm. If du Fay is first in position and they attack him, we will go forward and enclose them; but if our party is first, Captain Pierre du Pont and the Swiss will do so on their side. That will astonish them so much that they will not know what to do, for they will think we are three times as many men as we are, and especially when all our trumpets sound forth at once."

No one had anything better to suggest, for indeed the Good Knight was so great an authority in war that all were glad to follow where he led.

The attack was thus made on both sides, du Fay giving such a tremendous alarm on the outer side of the camp that the enemies hastily began to put on their armour, to mount their horses, and go straight towards where they heard the trumpets. The foot-soldiers set about arranging themselves in battle order, but fortunately this took so long that meantime the assailants of du Fay were attacked and driven back by Pierre du Pont, while the Swiss poured down upon the foot-soldiers, whose number would have overwhelmed them had not the men-at-arms rode down upon the papal infantry from the other side.

The Duke and the French company, with two thousand foot-soldiers, who had arrived under the walls without being observed, now joined in the fray from the other side, to the utter confusion of the enemy, who were completely surrounded and cut to pieces. Some of the horsemen of the papal army made a desperate attempt to rally, but Bayard and another captain called their ensigns and rode straight at them, with the cry of: "France! France! The Duke! the Duke!" and charged them with such vehemence that most of them were brought to the ground. The fighting went on for a good hour, but at last the camp was lost and those escaped who could, but they were not many. This battle cost the Pope about three thousand men, all his artillery and camp furnishing, and was the salvation of the duchy of Ferrara. More than three hundred horses remained in the hands of the conquerors, besides many prisoners of importance.

Indeed, we do not wonder that so much stress is laid upon this victory by the chronicler of Bayard, as it was solely due to his energy and resolution. The battle took place on February 11, 1511.

It was at the siege of Brescia that the fame of Bayard reached its highest point. His splendid courage in volunteering to place himself in the forefront of battle and face the dreaded hand-guns of the arquebusiers is the more striking as he had a special hatred of these new arms which were coming more and more into use. All this gunpowder business was detestable to the great knight, who had been trained in the old school of chivalry, where gentlemen showed their skill in the use of arms, and fought bravely against each other, while a battle was a kind of glorified tournament. "It is a shame," he used to say, "that a man of spirit should be exposed to be killed by a miserable stone or iron ball against which he cannot defend himself."

Bayard always seems to us singularly free from the superstitions of his day, but we cannot forget that an astrologer had foretold his death from one of these new machines of war.

When all preparations had been made for the assault of the city, the Duke of Nemours said to the captains of the army: "My lords, there is one thing that for God's sake we must consider. You know that if this town is taken by assault, it will be ruined and pillaged, and many will be put to death, which seems a great pity. We must try once, before they put it to the touch, whether they will surrender."

This was agreed to, and the next morning a trumpeter was sent forth from the citadel, who marched down to the first rampart of the enemy where the Doge, Messire Andrea Gritti, and his captains came to meet him. The trumpeter asked if he might enter the town, but was told that he might say what he liked to those present who had the authority to answer him. Then he gave his message, saying that if they would give up the city they should all be free to go forth and their lives would be safe, but if it were taken by assault they would probably all be killed.

The answer they gave was to bid him return, for the town belonged to the Republic of Venice, and so would remain, and they would take good care that no Frenchman should ever set foot within.

The trumpeter brought back his answer, and when it was heard, there was no more delay for the men were already in battle order.

"Well, gentlemen, we must all do our best.... Let us march," said Gaston de Foix, Duc de Nemours, "in the name of God and my lord St. Denis." Drums, trumpets, and bugles sounded an alarm. The enemy replied with a burst of artillery, and the attacking party from the citadel began their descent down the hill, where the ground was very slippery, for there had been rain in the night. The general and many other knights took off their broad, plated shoes to gain a firmer hold with the felt slippers worn under the armour, for no one wished to be left behind. At the first rampart there was a fierce conflict, for it was splendidly defended, and while the Good Knight's company cried "Bayard! Bayard! France!" the enemy replied with "Marco! Marco!" making so much noise as to drown the sound of the hand-guns. The Doge, Andrea Gritti, encouraged his followers by saying to them in the Italian tongue: "Hold firm, my friends, the French will soon be tired, and if we can defeat this Bayard, the others will never come on."

But in spite of all his encouragement his men began to give way, and seeing this the Good Knight cried: "Push on, push on, comrades! It is ours; only march forward and we have won." He himself was the first to enter and cross the rampart with about a thousand men following after him, and so with much fighting the first fort was taken with great loss of life to the defenders.

But in the very moment of victory the Good Knight was wounded, receiving the blow of a pike in his thigh, which entered in so deeply that the iron was broken and remained in the wound. He believed himself stricken to death from the pain he suffered, and turning to his friend, the lord of Molart, he said: "Companion, advance with your men, the city is gained; but I can go no further for I am dying." He was losing so much blood that he felt he must either die without confession, or else permit two of his archers to carry him out of the melee and do their best to staunch the wound.

When the news spread that their hero and champion was mortally wounded the whole army, captains and men alike, were all moved to avenge his death, and fought with fierce courage. Nothing could resist them, and at length they entered pell-mell into the city, where the citizens and the women threw great stones and boiling water from the windows upon the invaders, doing more harm than all the soldiers had done. But the men of Venice were utterly defeated, and many thousands remained in their last sleep in the great piazza and the narrow streets where they had been pursued by the enemy. Of that proud army which had held Brescia with bold defiance, such as were not slain were taken prisoners, and among these was the Doge of Venice himself. Then followed an awful time of pillage and every form of cruelty and disorder, as was ever the way in those days when a city was taken by storm. The spoils taken were valued at three millions of crowns, and this in the end proved the ruin of the French power in Italy, for so many of the soldiers, demoralised by plunder, deserted with their ill-gotten gains and went home.

Meantime the wounded Bayard was borne into the city by his two faithful archers and taken to a quiet street from whence the tide of battle had passed on. Here they knocked at the door of a fine house whose master had fled to a monastery, leaving his wife in charge. The good lady opened it at once to receive the wounded soldier, and Bayard, turning to his men, bade them guard the house against all comers, being assured that when they heard his name none would attempt to enter. "And rest assured that what you lose in the matter of spoil I will make good to you," he added. The lady of the house led the way to her guest-chamber, whither the Good Knight was carried, and she threw herself on her knees before him, saying: "Noble lord, I present to you this house and all that is in it, for it is yours by right of war, but I pray you to spare my honour and my life and that of my two young daughters...." She had hidden away the poor girls in an attic under the hay, but Bayard soon set her mind at rest, and gave her his knightly word that her house would be as safe as a sanctuary. Then he asked if she knew of a surgeon, and she went to fetch her own doctor, under the escort of one of the archers. When he arrived he dressed the wound, which was very deep and jagged, but he assured his patient that he was in no danger of death, and would probably be on horseback again in less than a month.

Great was the joy of the Duc de Nemours and of all the French army when this good report reached them, and the general, who remained in Brescia for about a week, paid him a visit every day. He tried to comfort him by the prospect of another battle before long against the Spaniards, and bade him be quick and get well, for they could not do without him. The Good Knight made reply that if there should be a battle he would not miss it for the love he bore to his dear Gaston de Foix and for the King's service; rather he would be carried thither in a litter.

Before leaving, when he had placed the hapless city in some kind of order and government, Gaston sent the Good Knight many presents and five hundred crowns, which he at once gave to his faithful archers. The Duke had, indeed, no choice about his movements, for he received most urgent letters from the King of France, who wanted the Spaniards to be driven out of Lombardy as soon as possible, for France was threatened on every side, by the King of England and by the Swiss.

The Good Knight was compelled to remain in bed for nearly five weeks, to his great annoyance, for he received news from the French camp every day, and there was constant talk of an approaching battle. So he sent for the surgeon who attended him and told him that all this worry was making him much worse, and that he must be allowed to join the camp. Seeing what kind of warrior he had to deal with, the good man replied that the wound was not closed but was healing well, and that there would be no danger in his sitting on horseback, but the wound must be carefully dressed night and morning by his barber. If any one had given Bayard a fortune he would not have been so delighted, and he settled to start in two days' time. On the morning when he was to leave after dinner, the good lady of the house came to speak to him. She knew that by the laws of war she, her daughters, and her husband (who had long since returned from the monastery where he had taken refuge) were all prisoners of this French knight, and all that was in the house belonged to him. But she had found him so kind and courteous that she hoped to gain his favour by a handsome present, and she brought with her one of her servants bearing a steel casket containing 2500 ducats. On entering the Good Knight's chamber she fell on her knees before him, but he would not suffer her to speak a word until she was seated by his side. Then she poured out all her gratitude for his knightly courtesy and protection, and at last offered him the casket, opening it to show what it contained. But Bayard put it aside with a friendly smile, and replied:

"On my word, dear lady, I have never cared for money all my life! No riches could ever be so precious to me as the kindness and devoted care which you have shown to me during my stay with you, and I assure you that so long as I live you will always have a faithful gentleman at your command. I thank you very much for your ducats, but I pray that you will take them back...." However, the lady was so much distressed at his refusal that he at length accepted the casket, but begged her to send her daughters to wish him good-bye. When they came and would have fallen on their knees before him, he would not suffer such humility, but thanked them for all their kindness in cheering him with their lute and spinet and singing during his illness, and begged them to accept the ducats contained in their mother's casket, which he poured out into their aprons whether they would or not. Overcome by his courteous persuasion, the mother thanked him with tears in her eyes: "Thou flower of knighthood to whom none can compare, may the Blessed Saviour reward thee in this world and the next." When the Good Knight's horses were brought round at mid-day, after dinner, the two fair maidens brought him some presents of their own needlework, bracelets made with hair bound with gold and silver threads, and a little embroidered purse, which he gallantly placed in his sleeve, and the bracelets on his arms, with many thanks, to the great delight of the girls. Thus with friendly words and courtly farewells he took his leave, and rode away with a goodly company of friends towards the camp near Ravenna, where he was welcomed with the greatest joy and honour by all the French army.

When Gaston de Foix, Duke of Nemours, arrived at the camp before Ravenna he assembled all the captains together to consider what was to be done, for the French army began to suffer very much on account of the scarcity of provisions, which could only be obtained with great difficulty. They were very short of bread and wine, because the Venetians had cut off the supplies from one side and the Spanish army held all the coast of Romagna.

There was also another reason for haste, which was not yet known to the French leaders. Maximilian had long been uncertain and vacillating in his alliances, but had now definitely decided to join the side of Pope Julius and the King of Spain. As usual there were companies of German and Swiss mercenaries both in the Italian army and also with the French, and these owed some kind of allegiance to the sovereign of their land. Thus it was that the Emperor had sent word to the companies of German "landsknechte" that they were to retire home at once and were not to fight against the Spaniards. Now it so happened that this letter had only been seen by the Captain Jacob, who commanded these mercenaries in the French army, and he, being a great friend of Bayard, privately asked his advice, first telling him that having accepted the pay of the French King he had no intention of thus betraying him in the hour of battle. But he suggested that it would be well to hurry on the impending battle before other letters should come from the Emperor and give the men an excuse for retiring. The Good Knight saw how urgent the matter was and advised him to declare it to the general, the Duc de Nemours.

Duke Gaston, who had now heard of the Emperor's letter, said that they had no choice, and also that his uncle, the King of France, was sending constant messengers to hurry on war operations as he was in sore straits. Bayard was asked to give his opinion, and he modestly replied that he had only just arrived and others might know more, but as far as he could learn, the besieged were promised that a large army from Naples and Rome would come to their help in a few days, certainly before Easter, and this was Maundy Thursday. "And on the other hand," he added, "our men have no provisions and the horses are reduced to eating willow leaves, so that each day's delay makes it worse for us. You see, too, the King our master writes to us every day to hasten our movements, therefore I advise that we give battle. But we must use all caution for we have to do with brave and good fighting men, and we cannot deny the risk and danger. There is one comfort: the Spaniards have been in Romagna for a year, fed like fish in the water till they are fat and full, while our men, having undergone much hardship, have longer breath. Remember that to him who fights longest the camp will remain."

At this every one smiled, for Bayard always had such a bright and pleasant way of putting things that men loved to hear him. His advice was followed and all was made ready for a determined assault on the city next day, which was Good Friday. The captains and their men set forth in gallant mood, as though they went to a wedding, and so fierce was the attack of the artillery that before long a small breach was made in the fortification, but the defenders fought so well that it was not possible to break through and at length the retreat was sounded. This was really a fortunate thing, as if the soldiery had begun pillaging the place the coming battle would certainly have been lost, and the relieving army was now within two miles of Ravenna.

It would be too long to follow the whole story of that fierce and desperate conflict, where both sides fought with the utmost skill and valour. The Spaniards certainly carried out their usual tactics of constantly taking aim at the horses of the French riders, for they have a proverb which says: "When the horse is dead the man-at-arms is lost." Their war-cry was: "Spain! Spain! St. Iago!" to which the other side replied by another furious onslaught to the shouts of "France! France!" And wherever the Good Knight passed, "Bayard! Bayard!" was the clarion note which cheered on his company, ever in the forefront of battle. The French artillery was used with great success, and as for the young general, Gaston de Foix, he led forward his men again and again with splendid success. It was late in the day and already the tide of victory was on the side of the French, when the Good Knight, who was riding in pursuit of the flying enemy, said to the Duke: "Praise be to God, you have won the battle, my lord, and the world will ring with your fame. I pray you to remain here by the bridge and rally your men-at-arms to keep them from pillaging the camp. But do not leave, I entreat, till we return." It would have been well, indeed, if he had remembered this, but some time later, in the tumult and confusion, he saw some Gascons being driven across the canal by a few Spanish fugitives, and with his usual impetuous chivalry, Gaston threw himself to their rescue, without waiting to see who followed him.

He found himself hemmed in between the canal and a deep ditch, attacked by desperate men with pikes; his horse was killed and he fought on foot with only his sword. His companions, who had quickly seen his danger, were trampled down or thrust into the water, and in vain his cousin, de Lautrec, shouted to the Spaniards, "Do not kill him; he is our general, the brother of your Queen" (Germaine de Foix). The gallant young Duke fell covered with wounds, and de Lautrec was left for dead, before their assailants turned and continued their flight to Ravenna. It so chanced that some distance farther the Good Knight met them, and would have attacked them, but they pleaded humbly for their lives, which could make no difference now the battle was won. Bayard let them go, little knowing that they had done to death his dear lord and beloved friend, Gaston de Foix.

The Good Knight wrote to his uncle on April 14, 1512:

"Sir, if our King has gained the battle I vow to you that we poor gentlemen have lost it; for while we were away in pursuit of the enemy ... my lord of Nemours ... was killed and never was there such grief and lamentation as overwhelms our camp, for we seem to have lost everything. If our dear lord had lived to his full age (he was but twenty-four) he would have surpassed all other princes, and his memory would have endured so long as the world shall last.... Sir, yesterday morning the body of my lord (Gaston de Foix, Duc de Nemours) was borne to Milan with the greatest honour we could devise, with two hundred men-at-arms, the many banners taken in this battle carried trailing on the ground before his body, with his own standards triumphantly floating behind him.... We have lost many other great captains, and amongst them my friend Jacob of the German foot-soldiers ... and I assure you that for a hundred years the kingdom of France will not recover from our loss....—Your humble servitor, BAYARD."

The brilliant victory won outside the walls of Ravenna was the last successful engagement of the French army which, threatened on every side, was soon "to melt away like mist flying before the wind." The day after the battle Ravenna was pillaged by the French adventurers and "landsknechte" with the usual unfortunate result, that they forsook their masters and returned home with their booty.

This gallant young prince was indeed a terrible loss both to his friends and to his country. His uncle, Louis XII., is said to have exclaimed, on hearing of the death of the Duke of Nemours: "Would to God that I had lost Italy, and that Gaston and the others who fell at Ravenna were still alive!"

It was difficult to fill his place, but Chabannes la Palisse was chosen to the command of the army, as Lautrec had been grievously wounded and was now at Ferrara, where he ultimately recovered.

The French army was already weary and dispirited when the troops of the Pope and his allies bore down upon them in great numbers; and after several attempts at resistance they were compelled to retire to Pavia, which they hoped to defend. However, they had barely time to fortify the various gates before the enemy was upon them, two days later. By the advice of Bayard, a bridge of boats was made across the river as a way of retreat, for the stone bridge was sure to be guarded by the enemy, and, as we shall see, this proved to be of immense value. By some means, the Swiss managed to enter the town by the citadel and advanced to the market-place, where, on the alarm being sounded, they were met by the foot-soldiers and some men-at-arms, amongst whom were the Captain Louis d'Ars, who was Governor, La Palisse, and the lord of Imbercourt. But, above all, the Good Knight did incredible things, for with about twenty or thirty men-at-arms he held all the Swiss at bay for about two hours in a narrow passage, fighting the whole time with such desperate energy that he had two horses killed under him.

It was now that the bridge of boats came into use, and the artillery was first preparing to cross when Captain Pierre du Pont, Bayard's nephew, who was keeping a watch on the enemy, came to tell the company fighting in the market-place: "Gentlemen, retire at once; for above our bridge a number of Swiss are arriving in little boats, ten at a time, and when they have enough men they will enclose us in this city and we shall all be cut to pieces."

He was so wise and valiant a leader that his words were obeyed, and the French retreated, always fighting, as far as their bridge, hotly pursued, so that there was heavy skirmishing. However, the horsemen passed over safely, while about three hundred foot-soldiers remained behind to guard the entrance of the bridge. But a great misfortune happened, for when the French had just succeeded in taking across the last piece of artillery, a long "culverin"[1] (cannon), named Madame de Forli,[2] which had been re-taken from the Spaniards at Ravenna, was so heavy that it sank the first boat, and the poor soldiers, seeing they were lost, escaped as best they could, but many were killed and others drowned.

[Footnote 1: Cannon of 5-1/2 inches bore; weight of the shot 17-1/2 lbs.]

[Footnote 2: Named after the famous Catarina Sforza, the warlike Lady of Forli.]

When the French had crossed the bridge they destroyed it, although they were no longer pursued, but a great misfortune befell Bayard. He was, as usual, in the place of danger, protecting the retreat of his company, when he was wounded by the shot from the town of a small cannon called a "fowler." It struck him between the shoulder and the neck with such force that all the flesh was torn off to the bone, and those who saw the shot thought he was killed. But although he was in agony and knew that he was seriously wounded, he said to his companions: "Gentlemen, it is nothing." They tried to staunch the wound with moss from the trees, and some of his soldiers tore up their shirts for bandages, as there was no surgeon at hand. It was in this unfortunate condition that the Good Knight accompanied the French army on that sad retreat from place to place, until at last they reached Piedmont and crossed the Alps.

Less than three months after the victory of Ravenna the triumphant allies had re-taken Bologna, Parma, and Piacenza without a blow; had encouraged Genoa to assert her independence; and Italy, with the exception of a few citadels, had escaped from French rule.

Bayard, who suffered much from his wound, was carried to Grenoble, where his good uncle the Bishop, who had first started him in his career of arms, received him with the greatest affection. He was warmly welcomed and made much of in his native land, and possibly the excitement, combined with his serious wound, was too much for him, as he fell ill with fever and for more than a fortnight his life was despaired of.

Prayers and supplications were made for him throughout the whole country, especially in all the churches of Grenoble itself, and, as the chronicler remarks, "there must have been some good person whose prayers were heard," for the Good Knight gradually grew better, and before many weeks he was as well and as gay as ever. Never was any one more feasted and entertained than he was during the three months when he remained with his uncle, the Bishop of Grenoble. A very interesting letter has been preserved which this good prelate wrote to the Queen of France at this time. He thanks her for her great kindness in sending her doctor, Maitre Pierre, whose skill has had so much effect in curing his nephew. He also informs Her Majesty that he has spoken to Bayard about the marriage she suggests for him, but with all due gratitude he does not find himself in a position to marry, and has never given the subject a thought....

This is exactly what we might have expected from the good Anne of Brittany. She had such a passion for match-making that she had obtained from the Pope a "portable" altar, which always travelled with her, that she might have a marriage solemnised at any time.



CHAPTER VIII

The next war in which Bayard was engaged was that in which Louis XII. was attacked by the King of Spain in Navarre. Henry VIII. was at the same time preparing to invade the north of France, landing near Calais, and the Swiss were already pouring into Burgundy.

As we may expect, Bayard was not long without being sent on some perilous adventure. He was at the siege of Pampeluna with the deposed King Jean d'Albret of Navarre and the lord of La Palisse, when they told him there was a certain castle about four leagues off which it would be well for him to take, as the garrison was a constant annoyance to the French. The Good Knight at once set off with his own company, that of Captain Bonneval, a certain number of adventurers, and two troops of "landsknechte." When he arrived before the fortress, he sent a trumpeter to proclaim to those within that they must yield it to their rightful sovereign, the King of Navarre, in which case they would save their lives and goods, but if the place had to be taken by assault they would have no mercy.

The Spaniards were valiant men and loyal subjects of the King of Spain, and they made reply that they would not yield the fortress and still less themselves. Upon this Bayard put his artillery in position and made such good use of it that a breach was soon made in the walls, but it was high up and not easy to make use of. The Good Knight then sounded the order to assault and commanded the "landsknechte" to advance. Their interpreter said that it was their rule, when a place was to be taken by assault, that they should have double pay. The Good Knight would have nothing to do with their rules, but he promised that if they took the place they should have what they asked for. But not a single man of them would mount the breach. Thereupon Bayard sounded the retreat, and then made an attack with the artillery as though he wished to enlarge the breach, but he had another plan. He called one of his men-at-arms, by name Little John, and said to him: "My friend, you can do me a good service which will be well rewarded. You see that tower at the corner of the castle; when you hear the assault begin take ladders, and with thirty or forty men scale that tower, which you will find undefended." So it turned out, for all the garrison went to defend the breach, while Little John and his men mounted the tower unseen and cried out, "France! France! Navarre! Navarre!" The defenders, finding themselves assailed on every side, did their best; but the castle was soon taken, and the whole place was pillaged and left in charge of the King of Navarre's men.

In this year, 1513, died Julius II., the great warrior Pope, a constant foe to the French, and he was succeeded by the Cardinal dei Medici, Pope Leo X.

Louis XII., having most reluctantly withdrawn his troops from Italy, now prepared to meet an invasion of Picardy by the English. He sent a large body of troops to the assistance of the lord of Piennes, Governor of Picardy, commanded by the finest captains of the kingdom, and amongst these was Bayard. In the month of June 1513 a large army had landed with Henry VIII. near Calais; a most convenient place for the invasion of France, as it was in possession of the English. A strong force was sent on to besiege the town of Therouanne in Artois, but the King himself remained behind at Calais for some tournaments and festivities. When he set forth, a few weeks later, to join his army he had a very narrow escape of being taken prisoner by Bayard, who met him on the way.

It happened that the English King was accompanied by about 12,000 foot-soldiers, of whom 4000 were landed, but he had no horsemen, while Bayard commanded a detachment of nearly 1200 men-at-arms. The two armies came within a cannon-shot of each other, and Henry VIII., seeing his danger, dismounted from his horse and placed himself in the middle of the "landsknechte." The French were only too eager to charge through the foot-soldiers, and Bayard implored the Governor of Picardy, under whose orders he was, to allow him to lead them on. "My lord, let us charge them!" he exclaimed; "if they give way at the first charge we shall break through, but if they make a strong stand we can always retire, for they are on foot and we on horseback." But the lord of Piennes only replied: "Gentlemen, the King my master has charged me on my life to risk nothing, but only to defend his land; do what you please, but for my part I will never give my consent."

The Good Knight, brought up in strict military discipline, was not one to break the law of obedience, and he yielded with bitter disappointment in his heart. The timid caution of the Governor of Picardy had thus lost him, in all probability, the chance of a splendid adventure, for the capture of King Henry VIII. at the very beginning of the war might have changed the whole history of Europe.

As it was, the King was suffered to pass on his way, but Bayard obtained leave to harass the retreating army, and with his company took possession of a piece of artillery called Saint John, for Henry VIII. had twelve of these big cannons, to which he gave the name of "his twelve apostles."

The King of England reached the camp outside Therouanne in safety, and a few days later was joined by the Emperor Maximilian, who was welcomed with much feasting. Their combined forces are said to have amounted to 40,000 men, and they soon began a vigorous bombardment of the city, which was bravely defended with a strong garrison, who did their best with the limited means at their disposal. Therouanne was a strongly-fortified city, but the massive walls, which had formerly been impregnable, could not stand against a long siege with this new artillery.

The besieged city was very short of provisions and the great object of the French was to supply these; indeed Louis XII., who had advanced as far as Amiens, was sending constant orders that this must be done at any risk. At the same time he was very anxious to avoid a general engagement as his army would be no match for the combined English and Burgundian forces. French historians tell us that this was the cause of that disastrous encounter which, to their great annoyance, has been called the "Battle of Spurs." They point out that the troops were not sent to fight, but only to revictual a besieged place, and that the King's orders were that, if attacked, "they were to retreat at a walk, and if they were pressed, go from a walk to a trot, and from a trot to a gallop, for they were to risk nothing."

This was the French plan to send provisions for the beleaguered city, a very difficult enterprise on account of the immense army which surrounded it. It was arranged that the cavalry should make a feigned attack on the side of Guinegaste, in order to draw the enemy in that direction, while eight hundred "stradiots" (light horse, chiefly Albanians in the service of France) were to make a dash on the other side, gallop through the defending force, reach the moat and throw in the bundles of provisions which they carried on the necks of their horses. This we are told the Albanians actually succeeded in doing, and it seemed as if this bold stroke would be successful, for the besieged, under cover of night, would be able to fetch in the much-needed provisions.

The French men-at-arms, meantime, had advanced to the attack and, after some skirmishing with the English and Imperial troops, were beginning to retreat somewhat carelessly, when they suddenly saw a number of foot-soldiers with artillery appearing on the top of the hill of Guinegaste, preparing to bar their way. Only then did they become fully aware of the imminent danger in which they were, and understood that, by some treachery, their plans had been made known to the enemy, who had thus made all preparations for their destruction.

King Henry VIII. had heard of the plan of relief, and before daybreak had placed ten or twelve thousand English archers and four or five thousand German foot-soldiers on a hillock with eight or ten pieces of artillery, in order that when the French had passed by, his men might descend and surround them, while in front he had ordered all the horsemen, both English and Burgundian, to attack them. When the French soldiers found themselves caught in this ambush, and the retreat was sounded by the trumpeters, they turned back, but were so hotly pursued that the gentle trot soon became a wild gallop and they fled in disorder, notwithstanding the cries of their captains: "Turn, men-at-arms, turn, it is nothing!" The Good Knight's company was hurried along with the others, but again and again he rallied them, until at last he was left with only fourteen or fifteen men-at-arms on a little bridge only wide enough for two horsemen to pass at a time, while the stream was too deep to ford as it was dammed up to turn a mill. Here Bayard came to a stand and cried to his companions: "My friends, we can hold this bridge for an hour, and I will send an archer to tell my lord of La Palisse that we have checked the enemy and this is the place to attack them."

We can picture to ourselves how gallantly he fought, for he loved nothing better than to defend a narrow bridge, but the pursuing army proved too overwhelming, for a company of horsemen went round beyond the mill and attacked the brave little party of defenders from behind. When Bayard saw that their position was desperate, he cried: "Gentlemen, we yield ourselves, for our valour will serve us nothing. Our horses are done up, our friends are three leagues away, and when the English archers arrive they will cut us to pieces." One by one the knights yielded, but Bayard saw a Burgundian gentleman on the bank who, overcome by the great heat of that August day, had taken off his "armet" (helmet) and was too exhausted to think about taking prisoners. The Good Knight rode straight at him, held his sword at the man's throat and cried: "Yield, man-at-arms, or you are dead." Never was man more surprised than this Burgundian, who thought that all the fighting was over, but with the cold steel threatening him there was nothing for him but surrender. "I yield, as I am taken in this way, but who are you?" he asked.

"I am the Captain Bayard and I also yield myself to you," was the reply. "Take my sword, and I pray you let me go with you." So he was taken to the English camp and well treated by the gentleman in his tent; but on the fifth day Bayard said to him: "Sir, I should like to return to my own camp for I grow weary of this." "But we have said nothing about your ransom," exclaimed the other. "My ransom?" said the Good Knight. "But what about yours, for you were my prisoner first? We will fight out the matter, if you like." But the gentleman had heard of Bayard's fame and was by no means anxious to fight, surprised as he was at this new point of view. But he was a courteous gentleman, and offered to abide by the decision of the captains. Meantime the rumour spread that the great Bayard was in the camp, and there was much excitement. The Emperor Maximilian sent for him and feasted him well, expressing great delight at meeting him again. After much pleasant talk he remarked: "In the days when we fought together it seems to me that we were told Bayard never fled." "If I had fled, sire, I should not be here now," he replied.

Presently the King of England arrived and desired that the Good Knight might be presented to him, as he had always wished to make his acquaintance. Then they began to talk about the French defeat, and both Henry and Maximilian made some severe remarks, upon which the Good Knight exclaimed: "Upon my soul! the French men-at-arms were in no wise to blame, for they had express commands from their captains not to fight, because our force was not to be compared with yours, for we had neither foot-soldiers nor artillery. And indeed, high and noble lords, you must know that the nobility of France is famous throughout the world. I do not speak of myself."

"Indeed, my lord of Bayard," said the King of England, "if all were like you I should soon have to raise the siege of this town. But now you are a prisoner." "I do not own to it, sire, and I will appeal to the Emperor and yourself." He then told the whole story in the presence of the gentleman with whom he had the adventure, and who answered for the truth of it. The Emperor and the King looked at each other, and Maximilian spoke first, saying that Bayard was not a prisoner, but rather the other knight; still, all things considered, he thought that they were quits, and that the Good Knight might depart when it seemed well to the King of England. To this suggestion Henry VIII. agreed, but required that Bayard should give his word to remain for six weeks without bearing arms, after which time he could return to his company. Meantime he should be free to visit all the towns of Flanders. For this gracious permission the Good Knight humbly thanked both the princes, and took leave of them after a few days, during which he was treated with great honour. Henry VIII. made secret proposals to Bayard that he should enter into his service, offering him high position and great possessions. But this was labour lost, for, as the chronicler says, "he was a most loyal Frenchman."