Swiss Heroes: An Historical Romance of the Time of Charles the Bold

by A. A. Willys

“It is an old city,” said Irmy to himself, “and not so badly built, but it cannot compare with Basle.”

At the gate of the town, a small fee procured him ready egress, and the guards showed him the way to the camp that had been pitched for the Duke and his followers. Slowly he wandered about among the tents, sure that here he must find his son, since Hagenbach and his officers had already taken possession of the quarters assigned to them as part of the Duke’s retinue. As yet, however, all was still both without and within the tents, and the Councillor turned his steps toward a sutler’s wine shop, on the wooden front of which was a large shield bearing in Italian the name and calling of its occupant. A servant with black hair and unmistakably Italian cast of countenance was brushing away the dried leaves from before the door and strewing the path with white sand. Addressing him in his own tongue, Irmy asked for a breakfast of meat, bread, and porridge, with a draught of good wine.

“I ought not to give you anything,” replied the Italian, “since you are not of the Burgundian soldiery nor yet in the Duke’s service, it is plain. But since none of the soldiers are stirring, belike you may enter.”

This the Councillor gladly did, and to pass the time chatted with the friendly waiter, who had been much in Venice and Genoa in former days, and knew of many of the great mercantile houses with which he was connected. He asked him about two lads who must have arrived in camp with one of the Burgundian captains, but the Lombard could tell him nothing of them.

“We came hither with some Italian cuirassiers, levied for Duke Charles in Italy,” he replied, “and know nothing of his other followers. But if you will station yourself by the roadside against yonder tree, no part of the procession can escape you.”

By this time signs of life began to appear about the camp. Tents were thrown open here and there, and the soldiers could be seen busied with the various offices of their toilet. But none had any news to give of Vögeli and the two boys. One man remembered that the Captain had been sent to Basle, but further than that he knew nothing.

Soon a trumpeter emerged from one of the tents and sounded a call, whereat the whole camp instantly sprang to life. All was bustle and activity as each man bestirred himself to make ready for the day—a more difficult task than usual, for on this occasion everything must appear at its very best. The cuirassiers had already burnished their arms and mail to spotless brilliancy on the previous day, but there still remained more to be done than could well be accomplished in the short time left them. Swiftly they rubbed down the horses, standing in long rows tethered to a rope. The horses of the Italians were magnificent creatures, and each was the individual property of its rider. These cuirassiers were for the most part men of quality; each was entitled to a mounted esquire and one foot-soldier as his escort. None but the rich were permitted to join their ranks; and many nobles, survivors of the old knighthood, were to be found serving in this troop of mercenaries, whose pay was at least thrice that of a lieutenant in these days.

At length all was finished, and it was an imposing array that rode past the wine shop toward the high-road along which the train of the Emperor was already seen approaching. A band of drummers and musicians led the way, and next, preceded by waving banners and pennons, came Frederick himself, followed by a long and brilliant cavalcade, among which Irmy looked in vain for Vögeli. Hagenbach was there indeed; but even had the merchant forced himself to ask for the Captain he would have met with no reply from the haughty Governor, who, riding to-day in attendance on the Emperor, looked even more arrogant and pompous than usual. The Burgundian cuirassiers brought up the rear of the procession, during the passage of which Irmy maintained the position pointed out to him, beside the tree, which afforded him an excellent view.

By this time he was no longer the only spectator. Crowds had been pouring out from the gates of the city and assembling from all the surrounding villages, until the whole road on both sides was lined with sightseers. For hours they waited cheerfully while the two princes, who had met after half an hour’s ride, were engaged in a friendly dispute over a question of honor. Frederick wished the Duke to ride at his side, while Charles insisted that he as the lesser potentate should modestly follow. At length the heavens, which had lowered for a full hour upon this ceremonious pretence, opened their flood gates and deluged Duke and Emperor, noble and henchman alike; for Nature at such times is no respecter of persons. Especially inopportune was it now, however, for all were in their most sumptuous array; and many looked upon it as an evil omen.

But sunshine followed close upon the rain, and fair weather smiled upon their entry into the city, their approach to which was greeted by a clashing peal of bells from every church tower, and heralded by the blare of trumpets and the rattle of drums long before anything could be seen of the procession. On it came at last,—first, the musicians, then a long train of archers brought by the Duke of Somerset from England, with whose royal house Charles the Bold was connected through his wife. These were followed by a group of heralds. And now, amid the deafening shouts and acclamations of the multitude, appeared the Emperor and the Duke, riding side by side.