When intelligence was brought him that Bourbon had returned from Suabia at the head of twelve thousand men, and that the Imperial army, thus powerfully reinforced, was about to march to succour the beleaguered city, and compel him to give them battle, François held a council of war, rather for the purpose of acquainting his generals with his designs than of asking their opinion.
Though the king's sentiments were well known to all the leaders, several of them gave their opinion stoutly in opposition to his majesty, and the Marshal de Cha-bannes urged him strongly to raise the siege, avoid a battle, and retire to the Castle of Binasco.
“It is the interest of the Imperialists to fight,” said the marshal, “because they cannot afford to wait. They have not wherewithal to pay their troops, and can only keep them together by promise of a battle. Your majesty's interest is to avoid an engagement, since by delay you can accomplish all you desire, without risk and without loss. I will not venture to point out the disastrous consequences that must ensue, if the issue of the battle should be adverse to us; but I beseech you to weigh them before coming to a decision which you may hereafter rue. My counsel, I know, will be distasteful to your majesty, but it is my duty to offer it.”
Several of the other leaders concurred with the veteran marshal in opinion, and recommended delay.
“Were I to follow your advice, marshal,” cried François—“were I to raise the siege of Pavia, and retire to Binasco, as you suggest, Bourbon would say I retreated before him.”
“And with reason, sire,” cried Bonnivet, indignantly. “I give you no such timid counsel, but advise you to remain where you are. Let the foe attack you if he dares—the inevitable result will be his own discomfiture. What shameful counsel is this you give to the king, messeigneurs? Would you have him belie his glorious career? Would you have him forfeit the laurels won at Marignan? Shall a base soldier like De Leyva have it in his power to boast that he has compelled our valiant king to retreat? Shall the traitor Bourbon be allowed to say—as he will say—that his royal master has fled before him?”
“Never!” exclaimed François. “By Saint Louis! he shall never say that!”
“You overrate our difficulties and dangers,” continued Bonnivet, addressing the marshals: “but you do not take into account our resources. Bethink you that the flower of the French chivalry is here, with the king at its head. Do not let us dishonour ourselves by precautions unworthy of his majesty and of us. It is upon the plains of Pavia, and not under shelter of the walls of Binasco, that we must seek for safety. Such caution is out of place. The king's glory is in our keeping. Europe will demand a strict account of our charge. We must answer by victory or death.”
“You have misapprehended me, Bonnivet,” said Cha-bannes. “No one is more anxious than myself for the glory of the king. But I would not have him give undue advantage to the foe. Our army is much reduced in number, and discouraged by this lengthened siege, whereas the enemy is newly recruited by troops who have endured no hardship, but are stimulated to fight by promises of plunder. My opinion is shared by all the elder leaders.”
“You have the wisdom of Nestor, marshal,” rejoined Bonnivet, sarcastically, “and I listen to every word that falls from you with respect. But I cannot suffer the king to be guided by your counsel. His majesty has more need of the valour of his chiefs, at this juncture, than of their advice. As to yourself, marshal, were you to lose this chance of distinction, you would ever after regret it. It would be the first time you have sought to avoid a meeting with the enemy.”