His artillery, placed with much skill by Gaillon de Genouillac, and served with great spirit, fired at first with such success, that every volley carried away a file. The Spanish infantry, being unable to resist this terrible fire, precipitately broke their ranks, to seek shelter, in great disorder, in a hollow way. Such a brilliant commencement dazzled Francis; he forgot that he owed all his success to his artillery, believed himself already the conqueror, and came out from his lines. This inconsiderate movement placed the prince between his own artillery and the fugitives, and rendered his cannon useless. The face of the battle was changed in a moment; the viceroy advanced with the gendarmerie and a body of arquebusiers; the king was pressed on all sides. The French gendarmerie did not, in this battle, sustain its ancient reputation; it was beaten and almost destroyed by two thousand Biscayans, of astonishing agility, who, separating by platoons of ten, twenty, or thirty men, attacked it with inconceivable celerity and address. They were seen, all at once, making a discharge, disappearing at the moment they should be in turn attacked, and re-appearing unexpectedly, again to disappear. It is said that Antonio de Leva had, for some time, trained these arquebusiers to fight thus in platoons, between the squadrons of the Spanish cavalry, and that he had borrowed the manœuvre from the Greeks. A stratagem of Pescara’s contributed still further to the success of the day. This general having approached the enemy’s camp a little before the commencement of the battle, returned to his own to announce that the king of France had just published in his army a prohibition, under a capital punishment, to grant quarter to any Spaniard. This information, although false, produced so strong an impression upon his troops, that almost all the Imperialists swore to spare the life of no Frenchman, and to die sooner than surrender. This oath rendered the Spaniard equally invincible in fight, and ferocious after victory. The French monarch sustained the powerful charges of the enemy like a hero. Francis of Lorraine, and Richard De la Pole, the last heir of the house of Suffolk, endeavoured, with some companies of lansquenets, to disengage him; but they were killed, and the soldiers instantly turned their backs. Bonnevet perished fighting, and was regretted by nobody. Louis de la Trémouille shared the same fate; nearly nine thousand warriors, all gentlemen, were left lifeless on the field of battle. The _mêlée_ was terrible around the king. Left almost alone in the midst of a host of enemies, he inspired terror in all who ventured to approach him. He had already immolated five of his assailants, when his horse was killed, the monarch fell, and a rush was made to seize him. Springing up, he recovered himself, and killed two more Spaniards. At this moment, Molac de Kercado, first gentleman of the chamber, perceived the peril of his