The Tales of the Heptameron, Vol. I | Page 8

illness had scarcely
left her side.
This affliction was but the beginning of Margaret's troubles. Soon
afterwards the Constable de Bourbon, in conjunction with Pescara and
Lannoy, avenged his grievances under the walls of Pavia. On this
occasion, as at Marignano, the Duke of Alençon commanded the
French reserves, and had charge of the fortified camp from which
Francis, listening to Bonnivet, sallied forth, despite the advice of his
best officers. The King bore himself bravely, but he was badly
wounded and forced to surrender, after La Palisse, Lescun, Bonnivet,
La Trémoïlle, and Bussy d'Amboise had been slain before his eyes.
Charles of Alençon was then unable to resist the advice given him to
retreat, and thus save the few Frenchmen who had escaped the arms of
the Imperialists. With four hundred lances he abandoned the camp,
crossed the Ticino, and reaching France by way of Piedmont,
proceeded to Lyons, where he found Louise of Savoy and Margaret.
It has been alleged that they received him with harsh reproaches, and
that, unable to bear the shame he felt for his conduct, he died only a
few days after the battle. (1)
1 See Garnier's Histoire de France, vol. xxiv.; Gaillard's Histoire de
France, &c. Odolant Desnos, usually well informed, falls into the same
error, and asserts that when the Duke, upon his arrival, asked Margaret
to kiss him, she replied, "Fly, coward! you have feared death. You

might find it in my arms, as I do not answer for myself."--Mémoires
historiques, vol. ii. p. 253.
There are several errors in these assertions, which a contemporary
document enables us to rectify. The battle of Pavia was fought on
February 14th, 1525, and Charles of Alençon did not die till April 11th,
more than a month after his arrival at Lyons. He was carried off in five
days by pleurisy, and some hours before his death was still able to rise
and partake of the communion. Margaret bestowed the most tender care
upon him, and the Regent herself came to visit him, the Duke finding
strength enough to say to her, "Madam, I beg of you to let the King
know that since the day he was made a prisoner I have been expecting
nothing but death, since I was not sufficiently favoured by Heaven to
share his lot or to be slain in serving him who is my king, father,
brother, and good master." After kissing the Regent's hand he added, "I
commend to you her who has been my wife for fifteen years, and who
has been as good as she is virtuous towards me." Then, as Louise of
Savoy wished to take Margaret away, Charles turned towards the latter
and said to her, "Do not leave me."
The Duchess refused to follow her mother, and embracing her dying
husband, showed him the crucifix placed before his eyes. The Duke,
having summoned one of his gentlemen, M. de Chan-deniers,
instructed him to bid farewell on his part to all his servants, and to
thank them for their services, telling them that he had no longer
strength to see them. He asked God aloud to forgive his sins, received
the extreme unction from the Bishop of Lisieux, and raising his eyes to
heaven, said "Jesus," and expired. (1)
Whilst tending her dying husband, Margaret was also deeply concerned
as to the fate of her captive brother, for whom she always evinced the
warmest affection. Indeed, so close were the ties uniting Louise of
Savoy and her two children that they were habitually called the
"Trinity," as Clement Marot and Margaret have recorded in their poems.
(2)
1 From a MS. poem in the Bibliothèque Nationale entitled Les Prisons,
probably written by William Philander or Filandrier, a canon of Rodez.

2 See OEuvres de Clément Marot, 1731, vol. v. p. 274; and A.
Champoîlion-Figeac's Poésies de François Ier, &c., Paris, 1847, p. 80.
In this Trinity Francis occupied the highest place; his mother called
him "her Cæsar and triumphant hero," while his sister absolutely
reverenced him, and was ever ready to do his bidding. Thus the
intelligence that he was wounded and a prisoner threw them into
consternation, and they were yet undecided how to act when they
received that famous epistle in which Francis wrote--not the legendary
words, "All is lost save honour," but--"Of all things there have
remained to me but honour and life, which is safe." After begging his
mother and sister to face the extremity by employing their customary
prudence, the King commended his children to their care, and
expressed the hope that God would not abandon him. (1) This missive
revived the courage of the Regent and Margaret, for shortly afterwards
we find the latter writing to Francis: "Your letter has had such effect
upon the health of Madame