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