ANDREA GRITTI DOGE of VENICE from the portrait by Titian Vecelli

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 Dauphiné, 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?"

Seizure of the Spy.

"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.

POPE JULIUS THE SECOND from the portrait by Raphael Sanzio

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 mêlée 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."