[Illustration: BAYARD.]
BAYARD
THE GOOD KNIGHT WITHOUT
FEAR AND WITHOUT REPROACH
BY CHRISTOPHER HARE
WITH COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS
BY HERBERT COLE
INTRODUCTION
That courtesy title which flies to the mind whenever the name Bayard is
mentioned--"The Good Knight without Fear and without Reproach"--is no fancy
name bestowed by modern admirers, but was elicited by the hero's merits in
his own day and from his own people.
The most valuable chronicle of the Good Knight's life and deeds was written
with charming simplicity by a faithful follower, who, in single-hearted
devotion to his beloved master's fame, took no thought for himself, but
blotted out his own identity, content to remain for all time a nameless
shadow--merely the LOYAL SERVITOR. It is from his record that the incidents
in the following pages are retold.
The "Loyal Servitor" is now believed from recent research to have been
Jacques de Mailles, his intimate friend and companion-at-arms, probably his
secretary. He certainly learnt from Bayard himself the story of his early
years, which he tells so delightfully, and he writes with the most minute
detail about the later events which happened in his presence, and the
warlike encounters in which he himself took part; and a most vivid and
interesting account he makes of it. In an ancient catalogue of the Mazarine
Library, his book is first set down as the _Histoire du Chevalier Bayard,
par_ Jacques de Mailles, Paris, in 4to, 1514 (probably a mistake for 1524).
The better-known edition, with only the name of the "Loyal Servitor," was
published in 1527, under the title of
THE VERY JOYFUL AND VERY DELIGHTFUL
HISTORY
OF THE LIFE, THE HEROIC DEEDS, THE TRIUMPHS
AND THE VALOUR OF THE GOOD KNIGHT
WITHOUT FEAR AND WITHOUT REPROACH
BAYARD.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
BAYARD
A FINE EXHIBITION OF HORSEMANSHIP
BATTLE OF FORNOVO
BAYARD DEFENDS THE BRIDGE
THE PAGE PRESENTS HIS PRISONER
SEIZURE OF THE SPY
BAYARD PRESENTED TO HENRY VIII
THE DEATH OF BAYARD
[Illustration: LE CHEVALIER BAYARD _Sans peur et sans reproche_.]
THE STORY OF BAYARD
CHAPTER I
Pierre Terrail, the renowned Bayard of history, was born at the Castle of
Bayard, in Dauphiné, about the year 1474, when Louis XI. was King of
France. He came of an ancient and heroic race, whose chief privilege had
been to shed their blood for France throughout the Middle Ages.
The lord of Bayard had married Hélène Alleman, a good and pious lady of a
noble family, whose brother Laurent was the Bishop of Grenoble. Pierre
Bayard, the hero of this story, was the second son of a large family; he
had three brothers and four sisters. His eldest brother, Georges, was five
or six years older than himself, then came his sisters, Catherine, Jeanne,
and Marie, while younger than himself were Claudie, and two brothers,
Jacques and Philippe.
Like so many other mediaeval strongholds, the Castle of Bayard was built
upon a rocky hill, which always gave an advantage in case of attack. It had
been erected by the great-grandfather and namesake of our Pierre Bayard,
probably on the site of an earlier stronghold, in the year 1404. No better
position could have been chosen, for it commanded a deep valley on two
sides, in a wild and mountainous district of Dauphiné, near the village of
Pontcharra in the Graisivaudan. Even now we can still see from its ruins
what a powerful fortress it was in its time, with massive towers three
stories high, standing out well in front of the castle wall, and defended
by a strong drawbridge. Well fortified, it could have stood a siege before
the days of artillery.
But towards the end of the fifteenth century, when Bayard's childhood was
spent here, such castles as these were not looked upon as mainly places of
defence and refuge, they were gradually becoming more like the later
manor-houses--family homes, with comfortable chambers and halls, where once
there had chiefly been the rude dwelling of a garrison used for defence and
stored with missiles and arms.
Each story of the castle, as well as the towers, would contain various
chambers, well lighted with windows pierced in the thick stone walls. On
the first floor, approached by a broad flight of steps from the court, we
find the oratory--scarcely large enough to be dignified by the name of
chapel--the dining-hall, and the private chamber of the lord of the castle.
On the floor above this the lady of Bayard had her own apartment, the
"garde-robe" or closet where her dresses were kept, and the place where her
daughters as they grew up, and any maidens who were brought up under her
care, sat at their needlework, and where they slept at night. On the upper
story were the rooms for the young children with their maids, and the
various guest-chambers.
The ground floor below the dining-halls was a dark place given up to
store-rooms and the servants' quarters, and below this again were cellars
and grim dungeons, which could only be reached by trap-doors. The kitchen,
usually a round building, stood in an outer court, and here great wood
fires could be used for the needful hospitality of a country house. The
stables and the rough quarters for the serving-men were beyond.
The dining-hall was used as a court of justice when the lord of the castle
had to settle any difficulties, to receive his dues, or reprimand and
punish any refractory vassal. At one end of this hall was a great hearth,
where most substantial logs of wood could be laid across the fire-dogs, and
burn with a cheerful blaze to light and warm the company in the long, cold
winter evenings. At meal-times trestle tables were brought in, and on these
the food was served, the long benches being placed on each side of them. On
the special occasions of important visits or unusual festivities, a high
table was set out at the upper end. The floor was covered with fresh
rushes, skins of wolf or bear being laid before the fire, and the walls
were stencilled in white and yellow on the higher part, and hung with serge
or frieze below. Only in the lady's chamber do we find carpets and hangings
of tapestry or embroidery, part of her wedding dowry or the work of her
maidens. Here, too, were a few soft cushions on the floor to sit upon, some
carved chairs, tables, and coffers. The master of the house always had his
great arm-chair with a head, and curtains to keep off the draughts, which
were many and bitterly cold in winter-time.
The chronicler of Bayard, known as the "Loyal Servitor," begins his story
on a spring day of the year 1487.
Aymon Terrail, lord of Bayard, sat by the fireside in his own chamber, the
walls of which were hung with old arms and trophies of the chase. He felt
ill and out of spirits. He was growing old--he had not long to live: so he
assured his good wife.
What was to become of his sons when he was gone? A sudden thought occurred
to him. "I will send for them at once, and we will give them a voice in the
matter."
To this the lady of Bayard agreed, for she never crossed her lord's will,
and at least it would distract his gloomy thoughts. It chanced that all the
four lads were at home, and ready to obey their father's command. As they
entered the room and came forward, one by one, in front of the great chair
by the hearth, somewhat awed by this hasty summons, they were encouraged by
a smile from their mother, who sat quietly in the background with her
embroidery.
The assembled group made a striking picture. The grand old man, a massive
figure seated in his canopied arm-chair, with white hair and flowing beard
and piercing black eyes, was closely wrapped in a long dark robe lined with
fur, and wore a velvet cap which came down over his shaggy brows. Before
him stood his four well-grown, sturdy, ruddy-faced boys, awaiting his
pleasure with seemly reverence, for none of them would have dared to be
seated unbidden in the presence of their father. Aymon de Bayard turned to
his eldest son, a big, strongly-built youth of eighteen, and asked him what
career in life he would like to follow. Georges, who knew that he was heir
to the domain and that he would probably not have long to wait for his
succession, made answer respectfully that he never wished to leave his
home, and that he would serve his father faithfully to the end of his days.
Possibly this was what the lord of Bayard expected, for he showed no
surprise, but simply replied, "Very well, Georges, as you love your home
you shall stay here and go a-hunting to fight the bears."
Next in order came Pierre, the "Good Knight" of history, who was then
thirteen years of age, as lively as a cricket, and who replied with a
smiling face, "My lord and father, although my love for you would keep me
in your service, yet you have so rooted in my heart the story of noble men
of the past, especially of our house, that if it please you, I will follow
the profession of arms like you and your ancestors. It is that which I
desire more than anything else in the world, and I trust that by the help
of God's grace I may not dishonour you."
The third son, Jacques, said that he wished to follow in the steps of his
uncle, Monseigneur d'Ainay, the prior of a rich abbey near Lyons. The
youngest boy, Philippe, made the same choice, and said that he would wish
to be like his uncle, the Bishop of Grenoble.
After this conversation with his four sons the lord of Bayard, not being
able to ride forth himself, sent one of his servants on the morrow to
Grenoble, about eighteen miles distant, with a letter to his brother-in-law
the Bishop, begging him to come to his Castle of Bayard as he had important
things to say to him. The good Bishop, who was always delighted to give
pleasure to any one, readily agreed. He set off as soon as he had received
the letter, and arrived in due time at the castle, where he found Aymon de
Bayard seated in his great chair by the fire. They greeted each other
warmly and spent a very pleasant evening together with several other
gentlemen of Dauphiné, guests of the house.
At the end of dinner, the venerable lord of Bayard thus addressed the
company: "My lord Bishop, and you, my lords, it is time to tell you the
reason for which I have called you together. You see that I am so oppressed
with age that it is hardly possible I can live two years. God has given me
four sons, each of whom has told me what he would like to do. My son Pierre
told me that he would follow the calling of arms, and thus gave me singular
pleasure. He greatly resembles my late father, and if he is like him in his
deeds he cannot fail to be a great and noble knight. It is needful for his
training that I should place him in the household of some prince or lord
where he may learn aright his profession. I pray you that you will each
tell me what great House you advise."
Then said one of the ancient knights: "He must be sent to the King of
France." Another suggested that he would do very well with the Duke of
Bourbon; and thus one after another gave his advice. At last the Bishop of
Grenoble spoke: "My brother, you know that we are in great friendship with
the Duke Charles of Savoy, and that he holds us in the number of his
faithful vassals. I think that he would willingly take the boy as one of
his pages. He is at Chambéry, which is near here; and if it seems good to
you, and to the company, I will take him there to-morrow morning."
This proposal of the Bishop of Grenoble seemed excellent to all present,
and Pierre Bayard was formally presented to him by his father, who said:
"Take him, my lord, and may God grant that he prove a worthy gift and do
you honour by his life." The Bishop at once sent in haste to Grenoble with
orders to his own tailor to bring velvet, satin, and all things needful to
make a noble page presentable. It was a night to be long remembered in the
castle, for cunning hands were pressed into the service under the eyes of
the master tailor, who stitched away through the long hours in such style
that next morning all was ready. A proud and happy boy was Bayard the next
morning when, after breakfast, clad in his fine new clothes, he rode the
chestnut horse into the courtyard before the admiring gaze, of all the
company assembled to look upon him.
[Illustration: A fine exhibition of horsemanship.]
When the spirited animal felt that he had such a light weight upon his
back, while at the same time he was urged on with spurs, he began to prance
about in the most lively fashion, and everybody expected to see the boy
thrown off. But Bayard kept his seat like a man of thirty, spurred on his
horse, and galloped round and round the court, as brave as a lion, his eyes
sparkling with delight. An old soldier like his father thoroughly
appreciated the lad's nerve and spirit, and could scarcely help betraying
the pride he felt in him. But the wise Bishop probably thought that the lad
had received quite as much notice as was good for him, and announced that
he was ready to start, adding to his nephew: "Now, my friend, you had
better not dismount, but take leave of all the company."
Bayard first turned to his father with a beaming countenance. "My lord and
father, I pray God that He may give you a good and long life, and trust
that before you are taken from this world you may have good news of me."
"My son, such is my prayer," was the old man's reply as he gave the boy his
blessing. Bayard then took leave of all the gentlemen present, one after
the other. Meantime the poor lady his mother was in her tower chamber,
where she was busy to the last moment packing a little chest with such
things as she knew her boy would need in his new life. Although she was
glad of the fair prospect before him, and very proud of her son, yet she
could not restrain her tears at the thought of parting from him; for such
is the way of mothers.
Yet when they came and told her, "Madame, if you would like to see your son
he is on horseback all ready to start," the good lady went bravely down to
the little postern door behind the tower and sent for Pierre to come to
her. As the boy rode up proudly at her summons and bending low in his
saddle took off his plumed cap in smiling salutation, he was a gallant
sight for loving eyes to rest upon. Bayard never forgot his mother's
parting words. "Pierre, my boy, you are going into the service of a noble
prince. In so far as a mother can rule her child, I command you three
things, and if you do them, be assured that you will live triumphantly in
this world. The first is that above all things you should ever fear and
serve God; seek His help night and morning and He will help you. The second
is that you should be gentle and courteous to all men, being yourself free
from all pride. Be ever humble and helpful, avoiding envy, flattery, and
tale-bearing. Be loyal, my son, in word and deed, that all men may have
perfect trust in you. Thirdly, with the goods that God may give you, be
ever full of charity to the poor, and freely generous to all men. And may
God give us grace that while we live we may always hear you well spoken
of."
In a few simple words the boy promised to remember, and took a loving
farewell of her. Then his lady mother drew from her sleeve a little purse,
in which were her private savings: six gold crowns and one in small
change,[1] and this she gave to her son. Also, calling one of the
attendants of the Bishop, she entrusted him with the little trunk
containing linen and other necessaries for Bayard, begging him to give it
in the care of the equerry who would have charge of the boy at the Duke of
Savoy's Court, and she gave him two crowns. There was no time for more, as
the Bishop of Grenoble was now calling his nephew. As he set forth on that
Saturday morning, riding his spirited chestnut towards Chambéry, with the
sun shining and the birds singing, and all his future like a fair vision
before him, young Bayard thought that he was in paradise.
[Footnote 1: The gold crown was then worth 1 livre 15 sous. Multiplying
this by 31, in order to find its present value, we learn that the sum which
Bayard received from his mother would to-day be worth 266 francs, or about
10 guineas.]
Pierre Bayard had set forth from his home in the early morning, soon after
breakfast, and he rode all day by the side of his uncle until, in the
evening, they reached the town of Chambéry, where all the clergy came out
to meet the Bishop of Grenoble, for this was part of his diocese, where he
had his official dwelling. That night he remained at his lodging without
showing himself at Court, although the Duke was soon informed of his
arrival, at which he was very pleased. The next morning, which was Sunday,
the Bishop rose very early and went to pay his respects to the Duke of
Savoy, who received him with the greatest favour, and had a long talk with
him all the way from the castle to the church, where the Bishop of Grenoble
said Mass with great ceremony. When this was over, the Duke led him by the
hand to dine with him, and at this meal young Bayard waited upon his uncle
and poured out his wine with much skill and care. The Duke noticed this
youthful cup-bearer and asked the Bishop, "My lord of Grenoble, who is this
young boy who is serving you?"
"My lord," was the reply, "this is a man-at-arms whom I have come to
present to you for your service if you will be pleased to accept him. But
he is not now in the condition in which I desire to give him to you; after
dinner, if it is your pleasure, you will see him."
"It would be very strange if I refused such a present," said the Duke, who
had already taken a fancy to the boy.
Now young Bayard, who had already received instructions from his uncle,
wasted no time over his own dinner, but hurried back to get his horse
saddled and in good order, then he rode quietly into the courtyard of the
castle. The Duke of Savoy was, as usual, resting after dinner in the long
gallery, or _perron_, built the whole length of the keep, on a level with
the first floor, and overlooking the great courtyard below. It was like a
cloister, with great arched windows, and served for a general meeting-place
or lounge in cold or wet weather. From thence he could see the boy going
through all his pretty feats of horsemanship as if he had been a man of
thirty who had been trained to war all his life. He was greatly pleased,
and turning to the Bishop of Grenoble he said to him, "My lord, I believe
that is your little favourite who is riding so well?"
"You are quite right, my lord Duke," was the answer. "He is my nephew, and
comes of a race where there have been many gallant knights. His father, who
from the wounds he has received in battle, and from advancing age, is
unable to come himself to your Court, recommends himself very humbly to
your good grace, and makes you a present of the boy."
"By my faith!" exclaimed the Duke, "I accept him most willingly; it is a
very fine and handsome present. May God make him a great man!"
He then sent for the most trusty equerry of his stables and gave into his
charge young Bayard, with the assurance that one day he would do him great
credit. The Bishop of Grenoble, having accomplished his business, did not
tarry long after this, but having humbly thanked the Duke of Savoy, took
leave of him and of his nephew, and returned to his own home.
Those spring and summer months spent at the Court of Savoy remained a happy
memory to Bayard all his life. On feast-days and holidays the whole company
would go out into the woods or the meadows, the Duchess Blanche with her
young maidens and attendant ladies, while the knights and squires and pages
waited upon them as they dined under the trees, and afterwards played games
and made the air ring with their merry songs. Or there were hunting and
hawking parties which lasted for more than one day, or river excursions
down as far as the Lake of Bourget, where the Duke had a summer palace. It
must have been on occasions such as these when the gallant young Bayard met
with the maiden who caught his boyish fancy, and to whom he remained
faithful at heart until the end of his days. Yet this pretty old-world
story of boy-and-girl affection made no farther progress, and when the
knight and lady met in the years to come, once more under the hospitable
care of the good Duchess Blanche, they met as congenial friends only. The
fair maiden of Chambéry is known to history solely by her later married
name of Madame de Frussasco (or Fluxas), and in the records of chivalry
only by the tournament in which the "Good Knight without Fear and without
Reproach" wore her colours and won the prize in her name.
[Illustration: CHARLES VIII KING OF FRANCE _from a medallion_.]