The Basque marksmen were excellent. Two simultaneous shots: one mortally wounded Jean de Chabannes, Lord of Valdenesse; the other hit Bayard and broke his spinal cord. “Lord Jesus!” he cried, clutching the horn of his saddle to keep falling. Those nearby heard his cry out again, “Lord God, I am going to die!”
They hastened to his side, but by now all human aid was futile. Feeling his strength abandoning him, Bayard drew his sword, which had for so long served him and fought so well for France, beheld it, and kissed the Cross on the pommel, as if with this gesture he wanted to join devotion to the Saviour with love for the arms of a knight.
“Mierere mei, Deus, secundum magnam misericordiam tuam,” escaped from his contrite lips. Then he was silent. He was now deathly pale, and wavered in the saddle. Jean Joffrey, the squire who had served him faithfully for so many years and escorted the knight in all his deeds, helped his lord to dismount.
On the Shade of the Oak
Opening his eyes, Bayard gestured toward a nearby oak, indicating that he wanted to rest in the shade of the venerable tree. “I want to await death facing my enemies,” he murmured, “I never have turned my back on them and by the honor of a Catholic knight I will not do so now.”
The Death of Pierre Terrail, Seigneur de Bayard (1473 – 1524).
A fellow knight drew near and besought Bayard to lay down on the litter they had made with their lances, but he refused. His last feat was drawing night, when he would behold God face to face. As he made his last exertions, he was heard to groan, “I feel the pains of death coming to fetch me in every movement.”
His squire wept, kneeling at the side of his lord. Bayard, in spite of his state, showed him special affection by caressing his head and saying, “Jacques, my friend, dry your tears. It is the will of God that I leave this world. By His grace have I been in it long and received undeserved goods and honors. The only thing that I lament is not having done my duty as well as I should. If I had more time, I would correct my past faults; but if He wants to call me now, I beseech His great mercy to have pity on me. I trust that by the intercession of His Most Blessed Mother He will be mindful of Her mercy and not of my sins, which would call down His chastising justice.”
Bayard’s enemies gathered together at a distance to prepare a cavalry charge. Wishing to spare his peers and vassals further sacrifice, the warrior instantly besought them to leave him and flee. But out of chivalry they refused.
Statue of Bayard kissing his sword. Statue is at Saint-André, Grenoble, France. Photo by Christophe.Finot.
Confession
The noble knight then asked his squire to hear his confession, as there was no priest to hear his sins and give him absolution. It was to the Provost of Paris, d’Alègre, that he confided his last wishes.
Farewell
Bayard then calmly sent away those who accompanied him, saying, “My lords, I beseech you to go; if not you will fall into the hands of the enemy, and I will profit nothing thereby for I will hold myself at fault. Farewell, my good lords and friends; I commend my poor soul to your prayers. Lord d’Alègre, I beseech you to greet for me our lord, the King. Tell him how much I lament not being able to serve him further, as so much I desire. Greet also, when you see them, all the gentlemen of sweet France.”
Yet, they would not leave, and held fast to his garments; but he bade them go with affectionate insistence. As they still resisted, he motioned to them, saying, “I command you!” Thus they were constrained to take their leave. With tears they kissed his hands, and all the while the enemy’s ranks were swelling, with their helmets and banners glistening in the sun.
Joffrey was the only one who remained. Bayard, exhausted, closed his eyes, the branches of the oak gently swaying in the breeze.
To Be Continued…
Short Stories on Honor, Chivalry, and the World of Nobility—no. 719
