Bayard: the Good Knight Without Fear and Without Reproach

CHAPTER III

During two years Bayard remained with the garrison at Aire, and made great progress in all warlike training. At the end of this time, in the year 1494, Charles VIII. undertook his first expedition to Italy, and as the company of the Count de Ligny was commanded to join him, young Bayard looked forward with great delight to his first taste of real warfare.

The young King of France, in his eager desire for military glory, forsook the wise policy of his father, Louis XI., and resolved to claim the kingdom of Naples, in assertion of the rights bequeathed to him by René of Anjou. In order to prevent any opposition from Spain he yielded to King Ferdinand the provinces of Roussillon and Cerdagne, and on the same principle gave up to the Emperor Maximilian, Artois and Franche-Comté. Having made these real sacrifices as the price of a doubtful neutrality, he set forth on his wild dreams of conquest at a distance, which could be of no permanent advantage to him.

Charles VIII. had soon collected a magnificent army and crossed the Alps in August 1494; it was composed of lances, archers, cross-bow men, Swiss mercenaries, and arquebusiers. These last used a kind of hand-gun which had only been in common use for about twenty years, since the battle of Morat. The arquebus had a contrivance, suggested by the trigger of the cross-bow, to convey at once the burning match to the trigger. Before that the match had been held in the hand in using the hand-gun as well as the hand-cannon. Many of these arquebusiers were on horseback. Besides a number of small pieces of artillery, the French army had 140 big cannons. The use of these fire-arms in war had been gradually increasing since the days when Louis XI. made such use of his "bombards" in the wars in Flanders.

When we read of the wonderful success which at first attended the French army, we must remember how greatly superior it was to the troops which opposed it in Italy, which were mostly bands of adventurers collected by mercenary leaders, named Condottieri, who fought for gain rather than for glory, and had no special zeal or loyalty for the prince who employed them. The soldiers in their pay were, for the time being, their own personal property, and their great desire was to save them "to fight another day," while it was not to their interest to kill the men of another band (who might be on the same side next time), and they only sought to make prisoners for the sake of their ransom. The impetuosity and real warlike spirit of the French was a new and alarming thing in Italy, which had been so long accustomed to the mere show of war.

Charles passed as a conqueror through Pisa and Florence to Rome, then victorious at Capua, he entered Naples in triumph. During the spring months of 1495, spoilt by his easy victory, he gave himself up to pleasure in that fair southern land, idly dreaming of distant conquest. His success awakened the jealous alarm of Europe, and a formidable league was formed against him by all the Italian States, the Emperor Maximilian, and the Kings of Spain and England. Suddenly roused to a sense of his danger, Charles VIII. left his new kingdom in the charge of his cousin, Gilbert de Montpensier, with a few thousand men, and hastily set forth on his homeward way. He left garrisons in various conquered cities, and his army consisted of barely 10,000 men. They crossed the Apennines with great labour and difficulty, to find their passage barred by the confederates on the Emilian plain near the village of Fornovo.

Never was battle more fiercely contested than on that Monday, 6th July, when the French succeeded in breaking through the host of their enemies. The actual fighting lasted little more than an hour, amid a scene of the wildest confusion, which was increased by a storm of thunder and lightning, with rain falling in torrents. We are told that Bayard, the Good Knight, who had accompanied the King through the whole campaign, distinguished himself in the first charge at the head of de Ligny's company, and had two horses killed under him, then continued fighting on foot, and in the thick of the battle he took the standard of the horsemen opposing him, and covered himself with glory. The King, hearing afterwards of his gallant deed, sent him a present of five hundred crowns. Charles could appreciate a kindred spirit as he too fought with splendid courage on that eventful day. The French camp, with all its rich treasures of armour, gorgeous clothing, rare tapestries and plate, was looted; but Charles VIII. and the greater part of his army, with all the artillery, made good their passage through an overwhelming host of foes and raised the siege of Novara, where Lodovico Sforza was besieging the Duke of Orleans.

The French King was soon to receive news of the defeat and destruction of the small army he had left to hold Naples, and the death of the gallant Viceroy, Gilbert de Montpensier. Such was the sad ending of the first of those glorious and fatal expeditions to Italy, in which four kings wasted in vain so much treasure and so many precious lives. Charles VIII. did not long survive this bitter disappointment. He died at Amboise on 7th April 1498, at the age of twenty-eight. As he left no children he was succeeded by his cousin, the Duke of Orleans, under the name of Louis XII. Louis XII. was crowned on the 1st of July 1498.

If there was one trait of character which, more than any other, distinguished Bayard the Good Knight, it was his absolute loyalty towards the lord he served, and his undying gratitude for any kindness which he had received. He never forgot those six happy months he had spent at the Court of Savoy when he first went there to take up the profession of arms as a young lad of thirteen. It was not by his own choice that he left the service of his earliest master, who in a fit of generosity had presented his favourite page to the King, in the hope that by so doing he would best further the career of Bayard.

But Charles I., Duke of Savoy, did not live to see this, for he had died in 1490, and the Duchess, his widow, had left Chambéry and retired to her dower house in the pleasant town of Carignano, in Piedmont, about seventeen miles to the south of Turin. This lady, Blanche Paleologus, had been a most kind friend to young Bayard, and when she heard that he was stationed in the neighbourhood, she invited him to visit her, and received him with the utmost courtesy, treating him as if he were a member of her family. She was greatly beloved and honoured in Carignano, where she was lady suzerain, and where there may still be seen, in the church of Santa Maria delle Grazie, a splendid monument to her memory.

We may imagine the satisfaction with which the good Duchess found that her page of bygone days had blossomed out into a valiant and famous knight, and they must both have had much to hear and tell of all that had happened since they parted. Here Bayard also met with another friend, the young lady who had been one of the maids-of-honour of the Duchess at Chambéry and who had won the boyish affection of the Good Knight. If the young folks had been able to follow their inclinations it is probable that in time to come, when they were of suitable age, marriage would have followed, so the "Loyal Servitor" tells us in his chronicle. But circumstances parted them, as Bayard went to the King's Court, and the fair maiden was married later to a very good and honourable gentleman, the Seigneur de Frussasco (or Fluxas), who was governor of the household to the Duchess of Savoy, a man of wealth and high position.

We have a simple, touching story of the delight with which the lady of Frussasco welcomed her dear friend, the Good Knight, of their eager talk about old times, and their high ideal of honour and duty. She told him how she had followed the story of his achievements, from his first joust with Messire Claude de Vauldray, his tournament at Aire in Picardy, and the honour which he received on the day of Fornovo, which had spread his fame throughout France and Italy, and she gave him so much praise and honour that the poor gentleman blushed for very shame.

Then the lady said to him: "Monseigneur de Bayard, my friend, this is the great house in which you were first brought up; would it not be well for you to distinguish yourself here as you have done so nobly elsewhere?"

The Good Knight made answer: "Madame, you know how from my youth I have always loved and honoured you, and I hold you to be so wise and so kind that you would only advise me for my good. Tell me, therefore, if you please, what you would have me do to give pleasure to my good mistress, the Duchess Blanche, to you above all, and to the rest of the noble company here at this time?"

Then the lady of Frussasco said: "It seems to me, my lord of Bayard, that you would do well to arrange some tournament in this town for the honour of Madame of Savoy, who will be very grateful to you. You have here in the neighbourhood many French gentlemen, your companions, and there are other gentlemen of this country who I am assured would all most willingly join you."

¹   [This was fastened with a little lacing under the hanging sleeve, and was the usual favour asked for and worn by the knight on his helmet.]

The Duchess Blanche was never weary of talking with the Good Knight, who had always been so great a favourite of hers. But Bayard could not sleep all that night, for his mind was full of plans for carrying out the request of his lady. When the morning came he sent a trumpeter round to all the towns of the neighbourhood where there were garrisons, to make known to the gentlemen that if they would make their way within four days, on the next Sunday, to the town of Carignano, in the costume of men-at-arms, he would give a prize, which was the cuff of his lady, from whence hung a ruby of the value of a hundred ducats, to him who should be victorious in three encounters with the lance, without a barrier, and twelve turns with the sword.

On the appointed day, about an hour after noon, the Good Knight was at his place in the ranks, armed at all points, with three or four of his companions, but only those were with him who were prepared to take part in the coming contest. Bayard began first, and against him came the lord of Rovastre, a gallant gentleman who bore the ensign of the Duke Philibert of Savoy. He was a very hardy and skilful knight, who gave a fine thrust with his lance to begin with, but the Good Knight gave him such a blow on the broad band, which protected his right arm, that he disarmed him, and caused his lance to fly in five or six pieces. The lord of Rovastre regained his band and tilted with the second lance, with which he did his duty thoroughly ... but the Good Knight struck him on the visor, and carried off his plume of feathers (panache) and made him tremble, although he kept his seat on horseback. At the third lance the lord of Rovastre missed his aim, and Bayard broke his lance, which went to pieces.

After them came Mondragon and the lord of Chevron, who did their tilting so well that everybody applauded. Then came two others, and so on until all the company were satisfied.

The lances being broken it was now time for the contest with swords; but the Good Knight had only struck two blows when he broke his own, and sent that of his opponent flying out of his hand. The gracious Duchess requested the lord of Frussasco to invite all the gentlemen who had taken part in the tournament to supper. After supper the hautboys sounded, and the minstrels began to tune up in the gallery, but before the dancing began, it was decided to award the prize to him who had gained it. The lords of Grammont and Frussasco were the judges, and they asked all the company—gentlemen, ladies, and the combatants themselves—and they were all of opinion that the Good Knight himself, by right of arms, had gained the prize. But when they presented it to him he said that he did not deserve it, but that if he had done anything well, Madame de Frussasco was the cause, as she had lent him her sleeve, and that it was her place to give the prize as she chose.

The lady, who was well versed in the laws of honour and chivalry, humbly thanked the Good Knight for the honour which he had done her, and said: "As M. de Bayard has shown me this courtesy I will keep the sleeve all my life for love of him, while as for the ruby, I advise that it should be given to M. de Mondragon, for he is considered to have done the next best."

This was accomplished as she wished, to the content of all, and the Duchess Blanche rejoiced greatly in the success of the Good Knight, who had begun his career in her household. The Good Knight took leave of his noble mistress, the lady of Savoy, telling her that he owed her service and obedience next to the King, his sovereign lord. Then he said farewell to the lady who had been his first love, and they parted with much regret, but their warm friendship lasted till death. We do not hear that they ever met again, but not a year passed without presents being sent from one to the other.

CHAPTER IV

While the French army felt such absolute security of their dominion in Italy as to suffer the young captains to join in amusements, the fugitive Duke Lodovico Sforza of Milan, who had lost his duchy by treachery, was watching events and preparing to return.

When Lodovico arrived he was received with acclamation, and entered Milan in triumph.

If this sudden revolution took all Italy by surprise, we can understand the dismay of Louis XII., who found that he had all his work to do over again. For not only had Milan rebelled, but all the other towns which he had conquered.

King Louis sent the Sire de Ligny as his chief general, and as a matter of course the Good Knight went with him. I must tell you the story of an adventure he had. He was in a garrison about twenty miles from Milan with other young men-at-arms, and they were constantly making small expeditions. One day Bayard heard that in the little town of Binasco, near the Certosa di Pavia, there were about three hundred good horses, which he thought might be easily taken, and therefore he begged his companions to join him in this adventure. He was so much beloved that forty or fifty gentlemen gladly accompanied him. But the castellan of the fortress at Binasco had news of this through his spies, and laid a trap for the Frenchmen; he had a strong troop placed in ambuscade on the road, and made sure of success. But, though taken by surprise, the Good Knight fought like a lion, and with cries of "France! France!" led his little company again and again to the attack, for, as he told them, if news of this reached Milan not one would escape. In fact, so fierce was their charge that they drove back the defenders mile after mile to the very gates of Milan. Then one of the older soldiers, who saw the enemy's plan, shouted, "Turn, men-at-arms, turn!" and the others heard in time, but the Good Knight, thinking only of pursuing his foes, entered pell-mell with them into the city, and followed them to the very palace of the lord Lodovico. As he was wearing the white cross of France, he was soon surrounded on all sides and taken prisoner. Lodovico had heard the cries, and sent for this brave foe, who was disarmed before being taken to the palace.

The Duke of Milan was surprised to see such a young warrior, and asked him what brought him into the city. The Good Knight, who was never put out by anything, replied, "By my faith, my lord, I did not think I was coming in alone, but believed my companions were following me. They understood war better than I did, otherwise they would have been prisoners as I am...." Then Lovodico asked him how big was the French army, and he made answer, "As far as I know, my lord, there must be fourteen or fifteen hundred men-at-arms and sixteen or eighteen thousand men on foot; but they are all picked men, quite determined to win back the State of Milan for the King, our master. And it seems to me, my lord, that you would be much safer in Germany than you are here, for your men are not fit to fight us."

He spoke with so much confidence that Lodovico was much amused, and remarked that he should like to see the two armies face to face. "And so indeed should I, my lord, if I were not a prisoner." "Really, if that is all," replied the Duke, "I will at once set you free, and make it up to the captain who took you prisoner. But tell me, if you desire anything else I will give it to you."

The Good Knight bent his knee in thanks for this generous offer, and replied: "My lord, I ask nothing else save that of your courtesy you will be good enough to return to me my horse and my arms which I brought into this town; and if you will send me to my garrison, which is twenty miles from here, you will thus render me a great service, for which I shall be grateful all my life; and saving my honour and the service of my King, I would do anything you command in return."

"On my faith!" exclaimed the lord Lodovico, "you shall have what you ask for at once." Then he turned to the Seigneur Jean Bernardin who had taken him prisoner. "Do you hear, captain, he is to have his horse, his arms, and all his accoutrements at once"

"My lord," was the reply, "that is a very easy matter for all is at my lodging." So he sent two or three servants, who brought the horse, and the armour, which the Duke caused to be put on before him. This arming took place in the great courtyard, at least as far as the gallant prisoner was disarmed, and when Bayard was fully accoutred he sprang on his horse without touching the stirrup, and asked for his lance, which was given him—a steel-headed weapon about fourteen feet long, the shaft being of ash or sycamore with a little flag (pennoncelle) waving at the top. Then, raising his visor, he said to the Duke: "My lord, I thank you for the great courtesy you have shown me. May God repay you!"

The Good Knight spurred his horse, who pranced about in the most wonderful way, and then Bayard gave a small exhibition of his skill with the lance which amazed the bystanders and did not please the lord Lodovico overmuch, for he remarked: "If all the French men-at-arms were like this one I should have a poor chance." However, he took gracious leave of the Good Knight, and sent him forth with a trumpeter in attendance to conduct him back to his garrison.

They had not gone very far, only about twelve miles from Milan, when they met the main body of the French army. Every one was greatly surprised to see Bayard, for there had been great sorrow at the rumour that the gallant knight had been too rash and had been taken prisoner through his youthful boldness and rashness. When he reached the camp he found that the news of his exploit had preceded him, for the Sire de Ligny, his good leader, came forward to meet him with a smile, saying: "Hallo! Picquet, who has got you out of prison? Have you paid your ransoms' I was on the point of sending one of my trumpeters to pay it and fetch you back."

"My lord," replied the Good Knight, "I thank you humbly for your good will; but the lord Lodovico set me free by his great courtesy."

It was at Novara that Lodovico Sforza met the army of France. The Duke's forces were composed of different races—German "landsknechte," Burgundians who were commanded by the same Claude de Vauldray who had fought with the Good Knight in his first tournament, and Swiss mercenaries. There were bands of Swiss fighting on the side of the French, and those within the city declared that they would not fight against their fellow-countrymenn in the other camp. They laid down their arms, and neither threat nor promise availed. Soon it was discovered that one of the gates of Novara had been opened by treachery, and that the French were entering the city. Then, as a last hope, Lodovico and his companions put on the dress of common soldiers and mixed with them in the ranks. But the unfortunate Duke was betrayed by one of the Swiss captains, who was put to death later by his own countrymen as a traitor.

On the occasion of Louis' former conquest of this land he had given several important towns and estates to his general, the Sire de Ligny. These had revolted with the rest of the duchy, to the great annoyance of de Ligny, and a report reached the citizens of Tortona and Voghera that their homes were to be sacked and pillaged. This was of course in those days the usual penalty of rebellion, but the French general was a generous and merciful man who had no such cruel intentions. However, the inhabitants of Voghera took counsel together, and twenty of the chief merchants went forth to meet their lord and humbly pray for mercy, two miles outside the city gates. But de Ligny took no notice of them and rode on in silence with his men-at-arms to his lodging within the city. One of his captains, to whom they appealed, Louis d'Ars, promised to do his best for them, and advised that they should plead again on the morrow. This time about fifty of the chief men came to him as suppliants, bare-headed, and fell on their knees before the General. They made a long and lamentable petition, ending with the offer of the richest silver plate, cups, goblets, bowls, and precious vessels to the value of more than three hundred marks.

Without deigning to look at the presents they had brought, their offended lord turned upon them, reproached them bitterly for their treachery in rebelling against him before the usurper, Lodovico, had even approached their walls. What fate was too terrible for such cowards and traitors? The kneeling citizens trembled and thought their last hour had come, when the captain, Louis d'Ars, pleaded for mercy as a special favour to himself, promising that henceforth they would prove themselves faithful and loyal subjects. Then at length de Ligny suffered his anger to cool down, and yielded to the wish of his good captain by granting a pardon. "But as for your present, I do not deign to accept it for you are not worthy," he exclaimed. Then, looking round the hall, his eyes fell upon the Good Knight, to whom he said: "Picquet, take all this plate, I give it you for your kitchen." To which he made instant reply: "My lord, I thank you humbly for your kindness, but with God's help the goods of such evil-doers shall never enter my house for they would bring me misfortune."

Thereupon the Good Knight took one piece of silver after another from the table and made a present of it to each one of the assembled company, not keeping a single thing for himself, to the amazement of every one. When he had given away everything, he quietly left the chamber, as did many of the others. The Sire de Ligny turned to those who remained and asked: "What do you think of this, gentlemen? Did you ever see such a generous soul as my Picquet? God should have made him king over some great realm. Believe me that he will some day be one of the most perfect knights in the world." All the company agreed, and could not praise young Bayard enough. And when the Sire de Ligny had thought over the matter, he sent him next morning a beautiful costume of crimson velvet lined with satin brocade, a most excellent war-horse, and a purse with three hundred crowns—which did not last him long, for he shared it all with his companions.

Louis XII. had been so much engaged with his conquest of Milan that for a time he had not done much towards recovering the kingdom of Naples. This had been lost after the retreat of Charles VIII., who died before he had been able to make another fight for it, after the disastrous fate of his viceroy, Gilbert de Montpensier, and his brave little army. At this time Frederick of Aragon was King of Naples, having succeeded his nephew, Ferdinand II., in 1496.

The king gave the command of his great army to the lord of Aubigny, who had brought back the broken ranks of the first expedition to Naples. The company of de Ligny, under his lieutenant, Captain Louis d'Ars, was ordered to form part of it. Bayard, the Good Knight, who could not bear to be left behind when fighting was going on, asked the permission of his dear master to accompany the lieutenant's men.

On this important occasion Louis XII., doubtful of his own strength, made the great mistake of forming an alliance with Ferdinand, King of Spain.

King Frederick of Naples knew nothing of the secret compact between France and Spain, and he expected Gongalvo de Cordova, known as the Great Captain, to come to his help with the troops of Spain.

As the alliance between France and Spain was founded on treachery, we cannot be surprised that they soon fell out over the division of their spoils. King Ferdinand of Aragon was never bound by any contract which did not profit him, and by his orders the Great Captain, Gonzalvo de Cordova, invaded the province of Naples itself. The lord of Aubigny had placed his various companies as garrisons in different towns, and those which belonged to the Count de Ligny were in the hands of his company, amongst whom, as we know, was Bayard, the Good Knight. We shall now understand how it was that he found himself at war with the Spaniards, who had been at first the allies of France.

Pierre de Bayard, the Good Knight, had been placed in command of a garrison at a place called Monervine, by his captain, Louis d'Ars. There had been no fighting in his neighbourhood for some little time, and he began to get rather weary. So he said one evening to his companions: "Gentlemen, it seems to me that we have been too long in one place without seeing our foes. We shall grow weak for want of using our arms, and our enemies will grow bolder than ever, thinking that we dare not go out of our fort. So I propose that to-morrow we ride out towards the nearest Spanish garrisons, Andria or Barletta, and have a little fighting if possible." The others readily agreed, and about thirty of them arranged to start early the next morning. It was a merry party of young gentlemen who galloped over the country at daybreak, and it so chanced that the same idea had occurred to a Spanish knight of Andria, Don Alonzo of Soto-Mayor, who wished to exercise his company of men-at-arms. Such was the fortune of the two captains, that as they turned a corner by some rising ground they suddenly came within arrow-shot of each other, and joyful indeed they were to have such a chance. When the Good Knight saw the red crosses he turned to his followers and cried: "My friends, here is our chance to win honour ... we will not wait for them to attack!"

With a shout of delight they all lowered their visors, and crying, "France, France!" they galloped forward and charged their foes, who came proudly on to meet them with the cry of "Spain! St. Iago!" gaily receiving them on the point of their lances. In the shock of this first meeting many on both sides were borne to earth. The combat lasted a good half-hour before either side seemed to have the best of it, for they were well matched in numbers and strength. But in the end one side must win, and it chanced that the courage and skill of the Good Knight, and the enthusiasm with which he inspired his men, at last succeeded in breaking the ranks of the Spaniards, of whom about seven were killed and the same number taken prisoner, while the rest took to flight, and amongst them their captain, Don Alonzo. The Good Knight pursued, crying out to him: "Turn, man-at-arms, it would be a shame to die while running away." Presently Alonzo, like a fierce lion, turned against his pursuer with terrible force; and they fought desperately with sword-thrusts.

At length the horse of Don Alonzo backed and refused to advance any more, when the Good Knight, seeing that all the other Spaniards were gone, leaving their captain alone, said, "Surrender, man-at-arms, or you are dead." "To whom must I surrender?" he asked. "To the Captain Bayard," was the reply. Then Don Alonzo, who had already heard of that famous name, and knew that he had no chance of escape, gave up his sword and was taken with the other prisoners to the garrison, where with his usual chivalrous courtesy, the Good Knight gave Don Alonzo one of the best rooms of the castle, and supplied him with all that he needed, on receiving his parole that he would make no attempt to escape.

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.

¹   [Secrète, 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 Trémouille, 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 Dauphiné 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 Boutières, 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 Boutières' 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 Boutières 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.