“Mazza,” he said, “they are sworn to aid thee: whom dost thou dread? Is he of the race of Silinen; of the houses of Henn or Asperling?”
The figure, and the man who had stood beside her from the first, remained motionless; and the speaker continued to enumerate the noble names of the Valais with as little success as before.
“Is it,” he said at last, “the baron of Raron?”
The wooden figure was bent low to the ground in signal of assent.
“You mark her complaint,” rejoined the orator; “you who will succour her raise the right hand.”
A large majority obeyed; a near day was appointed; and the news was sent from village to village, “that the Mazza was about to visit the captain-general, the bishop, and all the partizans of the Raron.”
The plot succeeded throughout; neither the lustre of their ancient name, nor the favour of a foreign prince, nor the first dignities of the land united on their heads, prevented the various districts of the Valais from planting on the appointed day, and by unanimous consent, the ill-omened Mazza before all the unfortified castles of Raron and his partizans. The multitude forced a way, and pillaged from vault to battlement. Had Raron remained in the country, he too, doubtless, would have fallen sacrifice to the Mazza. He had gone to Berne, there to renew his treaty of co-citizenship, and obtained, on the conditions of resigning his place of captain-general, and leaving Bishop William to his own resources, a promise from the Valaisans to persecute him no farther.
He believed that (his foes appeased) time might restore to him the power he had exercised in days past; but there was nothing which those enemies so dreaded, and they worked on the passions of the already-excited people, till rising again they marched on and destroyed his castle at Sierre,—took a fortress, held by the bishop, at Leuk,—and besieged Beauregard, which, built on a rock, had long seen beneath its sway and protection the valley of Ennfisch, whose fertile meadows stretch to the very foot of the Alps of Aosta.
Raron returned to Berne; but Berne was occupied wholly with the affairs of Frederic of Austria, and feeling that to the bishop and himself hesitation might be fatal, he demanded for both the aid of Savoy. Amedée the Eighth, created duke by Sigismund, charmed to find a pretext for interference, commanded Amedée of Challant, then in Chablais, to leave it with sufficient force, and take under his own protection and out of the bishop’s hands, the castles of Majorie and Tourbillon. On his side the baron of Raron victualled his strong hold of Seyon, conducted within its walls his wife and children, the Bishop William, and all the aged and infant members of his house, charging with its defence his most tried and brave vassals. A numerous and staunch garrison held Beauregard, and the heat of that burning summer aided its efforts by paralyzing those of the besiegers, till at last conquered by famine and forced to open their gates, the soldiers as they marched forth saw lighted behind them the flames, which, consuming the castle, illuminated the entire valley. The insurrection became so serious, that Amedée of Challant, fearing for Chablais, concluded a truce, which peace soon followed; but although the baron of Raron had placed sole confidence in the duke of Savoy, the latter, when renewing his ancient treaties, made no stipulations in his favour, delivered to the bishop neither Tourbillon nor Majorie, ceding both for a sum of money to the chapter. The Valaisans pillaged and destroyed them: Seyon remained alone; the riches of the Rarons were plundered; their power had departed. His courage only remaining to support him, the baron again entered Berne, and appeared in its assembly with none of the splendour, but more than the dignity of past years: he was received as its citizen once more. Meanwhile the forces of the Valais besieged Sion, determined on the total ruin of Wischard of Raron. The negociations between Berne and the Valais grew stormy: the latter insisting on the surrender of the castle, but consenting to let all within it go free. The lady of Raron, profiting by the permission, came trembling forth,—slowly treading the steep way, followed by the Bishop William, her younger children, and a long train of menials. It was then that Seyon fell. The multitude thronged thither, bearing torches, and its noble halls were sacked and fired.
Sion had abjured all respect towards this illustrious family, and the unhappy lady, who, born in luxury, had long been the spouse of these countries’ most powerful lord, descending the heights of the Valais, and traversing the Pays de Vaud in the haste of fear with her melancholy train, repaired to Berne. Her husband, listening to his angry passions only, while the debate concerning his cause was still pending, sought the Oberland, and gathering round his banner all the brave youth of Frutigen, the Simmenthal, and Saanen, marched at nightfall from the latter village, and along a narrow valley, which bears the name of Gsteig. The dawn was hardly red on the mountains when they climbed the steep paths of the Sanetsch, near the great cataracts; and appearing before Sion at the dinner hour of its inhabitants, mastered their resistance easily. In the course of some hours Sion was reduced to a few streets, the remaining space it had occupied a mass of smoke and flame, and the troop, when it had ravaged the surrounding lands three days, returned by the way it came, having hardly lost a man.