Mount Genèvre, a route never essayed by any army before. The Swiss mercenaries in the service of Sforza, thus taken by surprise, were rapidly defeated by the French, and were on the point of capitulation, when their countrymen, who had been watching to intercept Francis and his army, seeing that he had stolen a march upon them, descended from their mountains, 20,000 strong, and came to the relief of their countrymen under the walls of Milan.
Their courage now rose to the highest pitch, and they determined to give battle to the French. The headquarters of Francis were at Marignano, ten miles from Milan. Reinforcements were expected by the Milanese from the Pope, but a cardinal legate, who was present, urged the Swiss not to wait for these, but to seize the present favourable crisis, when the troops were in the warmth of their confidence, to march against the French and give them battle. The advice was of the most injudicious kind, for the French were not only greatly superior in numbers, but in their artillery, and a few days might bring essential aid to the Swiss. But the counsel was too consonant to the feelings of the Swiss army. They demanded to be led at once against the foe; and, marching forward when the day was considerably advanced, they fell in with the French lines about two hours before sunset. They rushed upon them with such fury that they carried all before them, as though they had suffered no fatigue from their long and hasty march. They drove back whole masses of the French infantry, and captured a considerable quantity of cannon. Francis, alarmed by this formidable impression on his foot, threw himself into the van at the head of his cavalry, and charged along the high raised road, on which the main body of the Swiss stood, the land right and left being marshy, with all the weight of his horse and with his characteristic gallantry. But the Swiss, confident in the memory of their former victories over the French, stood firm, and the battle became desperate. The Swiss broke the lines of the French cavalry repeatedly, and made terrible havoc amongst them. Night fell, but the moon rose, and the conflict raged so long as there was any light. When the moon went down the two armies, still breathing defiance, stood to their ground, and waited impatiently for the dawn to renew the strife.
Francis had fought so long and arduously in the very mêlée that, when the pause came, he dropped upon a cannon completely exhausted, and fell into a deep sleep. But, fatigued as he was, he did not rest long. The smarting of his wounds, for he had been pierced in various places by the lances of the enemy, the uneasiness of his mind, and the songs and shouts of the Swiss, who were sitting on the ground close at hand, carolling airs of triumph, and impatient for light to finish their victory, soon roused him. On examining the state of his army, he found that an awful slaughter of his men had taken place, many of his most distinguished officers had fallen, fifteen pieces of cannon were seized by the enemy, and the prospect for the morrow was anything but hopeful. To add to the disastrous issue of the day's fight, his troops were ill-supplied with refreshments, whilst wine and provisions in plenty had followed the Swiss army from Milan; and they were fortifying themselves with good cheer for the victory. So completely were the Swiss assured of this victory, that the news of the utter defeat of the French spread from their camp, and was carried by couriers to all parts of Italy.
But Francis resolved to contest the point with all his power. During the night he examined carefully his position, made such fresh arrangements as the knowledge of the ground and the events of the first day suggested; encouraged his men, and sent messengers post haste to expedite the march of reinforcements from Venice, which he knew to be on the road. With the first return of dawn the Swiss were afoot, and renewed the battle with augmented impetuosity. Confident of victory, they fought with the persuasion that a vehement attack would be followed by a speedy flight of the French. They found, however, that Francis had taken advantage of the night, and so disposed his artillery, as to rake them murderously in flank as they advanced. But this only caused them to dash forward like wounded lions upon the foe, and such was the fury of their onset, that the French cavalry must have been speedily routed, when up galloped the light horse of the Venetians, led only by Count Alviano, and fell upon their rear. Imagining that the whole of the Venetian army was come up, the Swiss now sounded a retreat; but this was made with such coolness and courage that they kept the order of their ranks, and part still facing the French, part the Venetians, they thus commenced their march back towards Milan. Such was the resolution with which they made this retrograde movement, that they would leave neither their wounded nor their artillery behind them, but carried them all off, and showed such a determined and self-possessed air, that the French, wearied, and having suffered great loss, made no attempt to pursue them.
But the Swiss had left on the field 8,000 of their best men slain, and they were in no condition to pursue the contest as they had begun it. On returning to Milan, they found that Sforza, for whom they had fought, had no money to pay them, and, therefore, having won great admiration by their conduct in this battle, they marched out of Milan and took their way homo by Como. Francis, who had lost nearly as many troops as the Swiss, and some of his most valuable officers, was enabled easily, through this circumstance, to make himself master of Milan.
If the Swiss had acquired reputation by this campaign, Francis had won still more; for against such brave forces he had shown himself still braver, and remained victor finally. The effect at the English Court of this brilliant success was to heighten extremely that discontent with Francis which Henry had shown at the very moment that the chivalric young French king had set out for Italy. Henry, who was ambitious of military renown, was stung to the quick by it, and his envious mood was artfully aggravated by the suggestions of Wolsey. Wolsey hated Francis because he was steadily opposed to his retention of the bishopric of Tournay. Wolsey had prevailed on Henry to disregard the earnest demands for the restoration of this town at the late peace, because he should in case of its surrender lose the ample revenues; Francis, on the other hand, naturally was equally anxious to have Tournay restored to his natural dominion. He therefore supported the claims of the other Bishop of Tournay, who, when the town was taken by the English, had been appointed but not yet installed.
