"Terrible as was the shock," says M. de Bouillé, "it did not unhorse d'Aumale. He still made head against his foes, succeeded in forcing a passage through them, aided by his young and valiant brother Claude, and by de Vieilleville--who, alone of all, had not abandoned him--and rode gloriously into camp. His appearance was frightful; his face, armour, and clothes were deluged with blood. The surgeons, stupified by the depth and gravity of the wound, despaired of cure, and refused to inflict useless sufferings upon the patient. But Ambrose Paré, the King's surgeon, sent by Francis with orders to try every means of saving the hero's life, was not discouraged. Confiding in his skill, and in the firmness of the wounded man, he resolved to attempt an operation, terrible indeed, but admirable for those days, and worthy alone to insure celebrity to him who imagined it. The lance-head was broken off so short, that it was impossible to grasp it with the hand. Taking then a blacksmith's pincers, to draw it out with great force, and assisted, amongst others, by Master Nicolle Lavernan, a very experienced surgeon, he asked the Lorraine prince, in presence of a crowd of officers shuddering with horror, if he would submit to the employment of such means, and would suffer him to place his foot upon his face. 'I consent to everything; proceed,' replied d'Aumale. Nor did his fortitude abandon him for an instant during this cruel operation, which was not effected without fracture of bones, nerves, veins, and arteries, and other parts, and which he endured as if they had only pulled out a hair. The agony extorted from him but the single exclamation--'Ah! my God!' Transported afterwards in a litter to Pecquigny, he remained for three days in a hopeless state: early on the fifth day more favourable symptoms declared themselves, and nature made such powerful efforts, that the cure was completed without leaving the Count d'Aumale any trace of this astonishing wound, except a scar, equally glorious for him and for Ambrose Paré. That skilful surgeon was wont modestly to say, when speaking of the marvellous cure of Francis of Lorraine--'I dressed it, and God healed it.' As soon as he began to get better, the Count d'Aumale hastened to write to the King, with a hand still unsteady, the following note, characterised by a calmness remarkable in such circumstances:--'Sire, I take the liberty to inform you that I find myself well, hoping not to lose an eye. Your very humble servant, LE GUIZARD.'" Admiring his energy, and in recompense of his services, Francis I. made him governor of Dauphiny; whilst the numerous partisans of the house of Guise attributed his cure to a miracle wrought by the prayers of his pious mother, Antoinette of Bourbon. This princess carefully preserved till her death the lance-point which had penetrated her son's head. The extent of the wound, as described by Paré, would be scarcely credible, but for the testimony of that learned and excellent man,