We have a vivid account of the weird and strange night which followed, when
the trumpets of France sounded the retreat and the Swiss blew their
cowhorns, as is their custom, and the two armies, with neither ditch nor
hedge between them, awaited the coming day within a stone's-throw of each
other. Those who were mounted sat on their horses with only such food or
drink as they chanced to have with them ... "and it is the firm belief that
no man slept during all those hours." In the King's letter to his mother,
Louise of Savoie, he says "that he remained on horseback with his helmet
on, until he was compelled to rest for a while on a gun-carriage, under the
care of an Italian trumpeter ... when the young King asked for water, it
could only be obtained from the ditch close by."

When the morning broke, the battle began again with fresh vigour on both
sides; thousands of brave men fell, and the noblest names of France were
amongst the slain on that fatal field. In the end the victory remained with
the French, and the survivors of the vanquished Swiss retreated in good
order, for the King, who never knew when he might need their services, gave
orders that they were not to be pursued. When all was over, on the Friday
evening, Francis I., who had fought throughout with gallant spirit and
valour, requested the honour of knighthood from the noble Bayard. In this
the young King showed his just appreciation of his most gallant subject,
the very flower of French chivalry, the hero of so many battles.

The French army now continued its victorious march to Milan, which
surrendered at once, and the King, after leaving Charles de Bourbon as his
Lieutenant-General, went to meet Pope Leo X. at Bologna and soon after
returned to his own land. Bayard was left in Milan and did good service
when it was attacked later by the Emperor Maximilian.