Chapter 8 No.8

The next war in which Bayard was engaged was that in which Louis XII. was attacked by the King of Spain in Navarre. Henry VIII. was at the same time preparing to invade the north of France, landing near Calais, and the Swiss were already pouring into Burgundy.

As we may expect, Bayard was not long without being sent on some perilous adventure. He was at the siege of Pampeluna with the deposed King Jean d'Albret of Navarre and the lord of La Palisse, when they told him there was a certain castle about four leagues off which it would be well for him to take, as the garrison was a constant annoyance to the French. The Good Knight at once set off with his own company, that of Captain Bonneval, a certain number of adventurers, and two troops of "landsknechte." When he arrived before the fortress, he sent a trumpeter to proclaim to those within that they must yield it to their rightful sovereign, the King of Navarre, in which case they would save their lives and goods, but if the place had to be taken by assault they would have no mercy.

The Spaniards were valiant men and loyal subjects of the King of Spain, and they made reply that they would not yield the fortress and still less themselves. Upon this Bayard put his artillery in position and made such good use of it that a breach was soon made in the walls, but it was high up and not easy to make use of. The Good Knight then sounded the order to assault and commanded the "landsknechte" to advance. Their interpreter said that it was their rule, when a place was to be taken by assault, that they should have double pay. The Good Knight would have nothing to do with their rules, but he promised that if they took the place they should have what they asked for. But not a single man of them would mount the breach. Thereupon Bayard sounded the retreat, and then made an attack with the artillery as though he wished to enlarge the breach, but he had another plan. He called one of his men-at-arms, by name Little John, and said to him: "My friend, you can do me a good service which will be well rewarded. You see that tower at the corner of the castle; when you hear the assault begin take ladders, and with thirty or forty men scale that tower, which you will find undefended." So it turned out, for all the garrison went to defend the breach, while Little John and his men mounted the tower unseen and cried out, "France! France! Navarre! Navarre!" The defenders, finding themselves assailed on every side, did their best; but the castle was soon taken, and the whole place was pillaged and left in charge of the King of Navarre's men.

In this year, 1513, died Julius II., the great warrior Pope, a constant foe to the French, and he was succeeded by the Cardinal dei Medici, Pope Leo X.

Louis XII., having most reluctantly withdrawn his troops from Italy, now prepared to meet an invasion of Picardy by the English. He sent a large body of troops to the assistance of the lord of Piennes, Governor of Picardy, commanded by the finest captains of the kingdom, and amongst these was Bayard. In the month of June 1513 a large army had landed with Henry VIII. near Calais; a most convenient place for the invasion of France, as it was in possession of the English. A strong force was sent on to besiege the town of Thérouanne in Artois, but the King himself remained behind at Calais for some tournaments and festivities. When he set forth, a few weeks later, to join his army he had a very narrow escape of being taken prisoner by Bayard, who met him on the way.

It happened that the English King was accompanied by about 12,000 foot-soldiers, of whom 4000 were landed, but he had no horsemen, while Bayard commanded a detachment of nearly 1200 men-at-arms. The two armies came within a cannon-shot of each other, and Henry VIII., seeing his danger, dismounted from his horse and placed himself in the middle of the "landsknechte." The French were only too eager to charge through the foot-soldiers, and Bayard implored the Governor of Picardy, under whose orders he was, to allow him to lead them on. "My lord, let us charge them!" he exclaimed; "if they give way at the first charge we shall break through, but if they make a strong stand we can always retire, for they are on foot and we on horseback." But the lord of Piennes only replied: "Gentlemen, the King my master has charged me on my life to risk nothing, but only to defend his land; do what you please, but for my part I will never give my consent."

The Good Knight, brought up in strict military discipline, was not one to break the law of obedience, and he yielded with bitter disappointment in his heart. The timid caution of the Governor of Picardy had thus lost him, in all probability, the chance of a splendid adventure, for the capture of King Henry VIII. at the very beginning of the war might have changed the whole history of Europe.

As it was, the King was suffered to pass on his way, but Bayard obtained leave to harass the retreating army, and with his company took possession of a piece of artillery called Saint John, for Henry VIII. had twelve of these big cannons, to which he gave the name of "his twelve apostles."

The King of England reached the camp outside Thérouanne in safety, and a few days later was joined by the Emperor Maximilian, who was welcomed with much feasting. Their combined forces are said to have amounted to 40,000 men, and they soon began a vigorous bombardment of the city, which was bravely defended with a strong garrison, who did their best with the limited means at their disposal. Thérouanne was a strongly-fortified city, but the massive walls, which had formerly been impregnable, could not stand against a long siege with this new artillery.

The besieged city was very short of provisions and the great object of the French was to supply these; indeed Louis XII., who had advanced as far as Amiens, was sending constant orders that this must be done at any risk. At the same time he was very anxious to avoid a general engagement as his army would be no match for the combined English and Burgundian forces. French historians tell us that this was the cause of that disastrous encounter which, to their great annoyance, has been called the "Battle of Spurs." They point out that the troops were not sent to fight, but only to revictual a besieged place, and that the King's orders were that, if attacked, "they were to retreat at a walk, and if they were pressed, go from a walk to a trot, and from a trot to a gallop, for they were to risk nothing."

This was the French plan to send provisions for the beleaguered city, a very difficult enterprise on account of the immense army which surrounded it. It was arranged that the cavalry should make a feigned attack on the side of Guinegaste, in order to draw the enemy in that direction, while eight hundred "stradiots" (light horse, chiefly Albanians in the service of France) were to make a dash on the other side, gallop through the defending force, reach the moat and throw in the bundles of provisions which they carried on the necks of their horses. This we are told the Albanians actually succeeded in doing, and it seemed as if this bold stroke would be successful, for the besieged, under cover of night, would be able to fetch in the much-needed provisions.

The French men-at-arms, meantime, had advanced to the attack and, after some skirmishing with the English and Imperial troops, were beginning to retreat somewhat carelessly, when they suddenly saw a number of foot-soldiers with artillery appearing on the top of the hill of Guinegaste, preparing to bar their way. Only then did they become fully aware of the imminent danger in which they were, and understood that, by some treachery, their plans had been made known to the enemy, who had thus made all preparations for their destruction.

King Henry VIII. had heard of the plan of relief, and before daybreak had placed ten or twelve thousand English archers and four or five thousand German foot-soldiers on a hillock with eight or ten pieces of artillery, in order that when the French had passed by, his men might descend and surround them, while in front he had ordered all the horsemen, both English and Burgundian, to attack them. When the French soldiers found themselves caught in this ambush, and the retreat was sounded by the trumpeters, they turned back, but were so hotly pursued that the gentle trot soon became a wild gallop and they fled in disorder, notwithstanding the cries of their captains: "Turn, men-at-arms, turn, it is nothing!" The Good Knight's company was hurried along with the others, but again and again he rallied them, until at last he was left with only fourteen or fifteen men-at-arms on a little bridge only wide enough for two horsemen to pass at a time, while the stream was too deep to ford as it was dammed up to turn a mill. Here Bayard came to a stand and cried to his companions: "My friends, we can hold this bridge for an hour, and I will send an archer to tell my lord of La Palisse that we have checked the enemy and this is the place to attack them."

We can picture to ourselves how gallantly he fought, for he loved nothing better than to defend a narrow bridge, but the pursuing army proved too overwhelming, for a company of horsemen went round beyond the mill and attacked the brave little party of defenders from behind. When Bayard saw that their position was desperate, he cried: "Gentlemen, we yield ourselves, for our valour will serve us nothing. Our horses are done up, our friends are three leagues away, and when the English archers arrive they will cut us to pieces." One by one the knights yielded, but Bayard saw a Burgundian gentleman on the bank who, overcome by the great heat of that August day, had taken off his "armet" (helmet) and was too exhausted to think about taking prisoners. The Good Knight rode straight at him, held his sword at the man's throat and cried: "Yield, man-at-arms, or you are dead." Never was man more surprised than this Burgundian, who thought that all the fighting was over, but with the cold steel threatening him there was nothing for him but surrender. "I yield, as I am taken in this way, but who are you?" he asked.

"I am the Captain Bayard and I also yield myself to you," was the reply. "Take my sword, and I pray you let me go with you." So he was taken to the English camp and well treated by the gentleman in his tent; but on the fifth day Bayard said to him: "Sir, I should like to return to my own camp for I grow weary of this." "But we have said nothing about your ransom," exclaimed the other. "My ransom?" said the Good Knight. "But what about yours, for you were my prisoner first? We will fight out the matter, if you like." But the gentleman had heard of Bayard's fame and was by no means anxious to fight, surprised as he was at this new point of view. But he was a courteous gentleman, and offered to abide by the decision of the captains. Meantime the rumour spread that the great Bayard was in the camp, and there was much excitement. The Emperor Maximilian sent for him and feasted him well, expressing great delight at meeting him again. After much pleasant talk he remarked: "In the days when we fought together it seems to me that we were told Bayard never fled." "If I had fled, sire, I should not be here now," he replied.

Presently the King of England arrived and desired that the Good Knight might be presented to him, as he had always wished to make his acquaintance. Then they began to talk about the French defeat, and both Henry and Maximilian made some severe remarks, upon which the Good Knight exclaimed: "Upon my soul! the French men-at-arms were in no wise to blame, for they had express commands from their captains not to fight, because our force was not to be compared with yours, for we had neither foot-soldiers nor artillery. And indeed, high and noble lords, you must know that the nobility of France is famous throughout the world. I do not speak of myself."

"Indeed, my lord of Bayard," said the King of England, "if all were like you I should soon have to raise the siege of this town. But now you are a prisoner." "I do not own to it, sire, and I will appeal to the Emperor and yourself." He then told the whole story in the presence of the gentleman with whom he had the adventure, and who answered for the truth of it. The Emperor and the King looked at each other, and Maximilian spoke first, saying that Bayard was not a prisoner, but rather the other knight; still, all things considered, he thought that they were quits, and that the Good Knight might depart when it seemed well to the King of England. To this suggestion Henry VIII. agreed, but required that Bayard should give his word to remain for six weeks without bearing arms, after which time he could return to his company. Meantime he should be free to visit all the towns of Flanders. For this gracious permission the Good Knight humbly thanked both the princes, and took leave of them after a few days, during which he was treated with great honour. Henry VIII. made secret proposals to Bayard that he should enter into his service, offering him high position and great possessions. But this was labour lost, for, as the chronicler says, "he was a most loyal Frenchman."

Thérouanne, whose walls had been constantly bombarded with much destruction, was soon compelled by famine to capitulate. The garrison were to march out freely, with all their arms and armour; but the fortifications were destroyed and the town partly burnt.