lling on their cavalry with the
imperial horse, among whom he had prudently intermingled a considerable
number of Spanish foot armed with the heavy muskets then in use, broke
this formidable body by an unusual method of attack, against which they
were wholly unprovided. The rout became universal; and resistance ceased
in almost every part but where the King was in person, who fought now,
not for fame or victory, but for safety. Though wounded in several
places, and thrown from his horse, which was killed under him, Francis
defended himself on foot with a heroic courage.

Many of his bravest officers, gathering round him, and endeavoring to
save his life at the expense of their own, fell at his feet. Among these
was Bonnivet, the author of this great calamity, who alone died
unlamented. The King, exhausted with fatigue, and scarcely capable of
further resistance, was left almost alone, exposed to the fury of some
Spanish soldiers, strangers to his rank and enraged at his obstinacy. At
that moment came up Pomperant, a French gentleman, who had entered
together with Bourbon into the Emperor's service, and, placing himself
by the side of the monarch against whom he had rebelled, assisted in
protecting him from the violence of the soldiers, at the same time
beseeching him to surrender to Bourbon, who was not far distant.
Imminent as the danger was which now surrounded Francis, he rejected
with indignation the thoughts of an action which would have afforded
such matter of triumph to his traitorous subject, and calling for
Lannoy, who happened likewise to be near at hand, gave up his sword to
him; which he, kneeling to kiss the King's hand, received with profound
respect; and taking his own sword from his side, presented it to him,
saying that it did not become so great a monarch to remain disarmed in
the presence of one of the Emperor's subjects.

Ten thousand men fell on this day, one of the most fatal France had ever
seen. Among these were many noblemen of the highest distinction, who
chose rather to perish than to turn their backs with dishonor. Not a few
were taken prisoners, of whom the most illustrious was Henry d'Albret,
the unfortunate King of Navarre. A small body of the rear-guard made its
escape under the command of the Duke of Alencon; the feeble garrison of
Milan, on the first news of the defeat, retired, without being pursued,
by another road; and, in two weeks after the battle, not a Frenchman
remained in Ital