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.
[Illustration: Battle of Forvono.]
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."
"If it is your wish," replied the Good Knight, "it shall be done. You
are the one lady in this world who has first conquered my heart by your
grace and kindness.... I pray of you that you will give me one of the
under-sleeves from your dress, as I have need of it."[1] The lady gave it
him, and he put it into the sleeve of his doublet without a word.
[Footnote 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.
[Illustration: LUDOVICO SFORZA DUKE of MILAN _from a medallion_.]