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.
