A Bernese messenger carried this announcement to the Burgundian camp before the fortress of Neuss, and delivered it into the hands of Duke Charles himself, whose only remark, as he ground his teeth, was, “Ah! Berne! Berne!” At the be-ginning of January, 1476, he left Nancy, of which he had recently gained possession, returned to Besancon, and started thence on the 6th of February to take the field with an army amounting, it is said, to thirty or forty thousand men, provided with a powerful artillery and accompanied by an immense baggage-train, wherein Charles delighted to display his riches and magnificence in contrast with the simplicity and roughness of his personal habits. At the rumor of such an armament the Swiss attempted to keep off the war from their country. “I have heard tell,” says Commynes, “by a knight of theirs, who had been sent by them to the said duke, that he told him that against them he could gain nothing, for that their country was very barren and poor; that there were no good prisoners to make, and that the spurs and the horses’ bits in his own army were worth more money than all the people of their territory could pay in ransom even if they were taken.” Charles, however, gave no heed, saw nothing in their representations but an additional reason for hurrying on his movements with confidence, and on the 19th of February arrived before Granson, a little town in the district of Vaud, where war had already begun.
Louis XI. watched all these incidents closely, keeping agents everywhere, treating secretly with everybody, with the Duke of Burgundy as well as with the Swiss, knowing perfectly well what he wanted, but holding himself ready to face anything, no matter what the event might be. When he saw that the crisis was coming, he started from Tours and went to take up his quarters at Lyons, close to the theatre of war and within an easy distance for speedy information and prompt action. Scarcely had he arrived, on the 4th of March, when he learned that, on the day but one before, Duke Charles had been tremendously beaten by the Swiss at Granson; the squadrons of his chivalry had not been able to make any impression upon the battalions of Berne, Schwitz, Soleure, and Fribourg, armed with pikes eighteen feet long; and at sight of the mountaineers marching with huge strides and lowered heads upon their foes and heralding their advance by the lowings of the bull of Uri and the cow of Unterwalden, two enormous instruments made of buffalo-horn, and given, it was said, to their ancestors by Charlemagne, the whole Burgundian army, seized with panic, had dispersed in all directions, “like smoke before the northern blast.” Charles himself had been forced to fly with only five horsemen, it is said, for escort, leaving all his camp, artillery, treasure, oratory, jewels, down to his very cap garnished with precious stones and his collar of the Golden Fleece, in the hands of the “poor Swiss,” astounded at their booty and having no suspicion of its value. “They sold the silver plate for a few pence, taking it for pewter,” says M. de Barante. Those magnificent silks and velvets, that cloth of gold and damask, that Flanders lace, and those carpets from Arras which were found heaped up in chests, were cut in pieces and distributed by the ell, like common canvas in a village shop. The duke’s large diamond which he wore round his neck, and which had once upon a time glittered in the crown of the Great Mogul, was found on the road, inside a little box set with fine pearls. The man who picked it up kept the box and threw away the diamond as a mere bit of glass. Afterwards he thought better of it; went to look for the stone, found it under a wagon, and sold it for a crown to a clergyman of the neighborhood. “There was nothing saved but the bare life,” says Commynes.
That even the bare life was saved was a source of sorrow to Louis XI. in the very midst of his joy at the defeat. He was, nevertheless, most proper in his behavior and language towards Duke Charles, who sent to him Sire de Contay “with humble and gracious words, which was contrary to his nature and his custom,” says Commynes; “but see how an hour’s time changed him; he prayed the king to be pleased to observe loyally the truce concluded between them, he excused himself for not having appeared at the interview which was to have taken place at Auxerre, and he bound himself to be present, shortly, either there or elsewhere, according to the king’s good pleasure.” Louis promised him all he asked, “for,” adds Commynes, “it did not seem to him time, as yet, to do other-wise;” and he gave the duke the good advice “to return home and bide there quietly, rather than go on stubbornly warring with yon folks of the Alps, so poor that there was nought to gain by taking their lands, but valiant and obstinate in battle.” Louis might give this advice fearlessly, being quite certain that Charles would not follow it. The latter’s defeat at Granson had thrown him into a state of gloomy irritation. At Lausanne, where he staid for some time, he had “a great sickness, proceeding,” says Commynes, “from grief and sadness on account of this shame that he had suffered; and, to tell the truth, I think that never since was his understanding so good as it had been before this battle.” Before he fell ill, on the 12th of March, Charles issued orders from his camp before Lausanne to his lieutenant at Luxembourg to put under arrest “and visit with the extreme penalty of death, without waiting for other command from us, all the men-at-arms, archers, cross-bowmen, infantry, or other soldiery” who had fled or dispersed after the disaster at Granson; “and as to those who be newly coming into our service it is ordered by us that they, on pain of the same punishment, do march towards us with all diligence; and if they make any delay, our pleasure is that you proceed against them in the manner hereinabove declared without fail in any way.” With such fiery and ruthless energy Charles collected a fresh army, having a strength, it is said, of from twenty-five to thirty thousand men, Burgundians, Flemings, Italians, and English; and after having reviewed it on the platform above Lausanne, he set out on the 27th of May, 1476, and pitched his camp on the 10th of June before the little town of Morat, six leagues from Berne, giving notice everywhere that it was war to the death that he intended. The Swiss were expecting it, and were prepared for it. The energy of pride was going to be pitted against the energy of patriotism. “The Duke of Burgundy is here with all his forces, his Italian mercenaries and some traitors of Germans,” said the letter written to the Bernese by the governor of Morat, Adrian of Bubenberg; “the gentlemen of the magistracy, of the council, and of the burgherhood may be free from fear and hurry, and may set at rest the minds of all our confederates: I will defend Morat;” and he swore to the garrison and the inhabitants that he would put to death the first who should speak of surrender. Morat had been for ten days holding out against the whole army of the Burgundians; the confederate Swiss were arriving successively at Berne; and the men of Zurich alone were late. Their fellow-countryman, Hans Waldmann, wrote to them, “We positively must give battle or we are lost, every one of us. The Burgundians are three times more numerous than they were at Granson, but we shall manage to pull through. With God’s help great honor awaits us. Do not fail to come as quickly as possible.” On the 21st of June, in the evening, the Zurichers arrived. “Ha!” the duke was just saying, “have these hounds lost heart, pray? I was told that we were about to get at them.” Next day, the 22d of June, after a pelting rain and with the first gleams of the returning sun, the Swiss attacked the Burgundian camp. A man-at-arms came and told the duke, who would not believe it, and dismissed the messenger with a coarse insult, but hurried, nevertheless, to the point of attack. The battle was desperate; but before the close of the day it was hopelessly lost by the Burgundians. Charles had still three thousand horse, but he saw them break up, and he himself had great difficulty in getting away, with merely a dozen men behind him, and reaching Merges, twelve leagues from Morat. Eight or ten thousand of his men had fallen, more than half, it is said, killed in cold blood after the fight. Never had the Swiss been so dead set against their foes; and “as cruel as at Morat” was for a long while a common expression.
“The king,” says Commynes, “always willingly gave somewhat to him who was the first to bring him some great news, without forgetting the messenger, and he took pleasure in speaking thereof before the news came, saying, ‘I will give so much to him who first brings me such and such news.’ My lord of Bouchage and I (being together) had the first message about the battle of Morat, and told it both together to the king, who gave each of us two hundred marks of silver.” Next day Louis, as prudent in the hour of joy as of reverse, wrote to Count de Dampmartin, who was in command of his troops concentrated at Senlis, with orders to hold himself in readiness for any event, but still carefully observe the truce with the Duke of Burgundy. Charles at that time was thinking but little of Louis and their truce; driven to despair by the disaster at Morat, but more dead set than ever on the struggle, he repaired from Morges to Gex, and from Gex to Salins, and summoned successively, in July and August, at Salins, at Dijon, at Brussels, and at Luxembourg the estates of his various domains, making to all of them an appeal, at the same time supplicatory and imperious, calling upon them for a fresh army with which to recommence the war with the Swiss, and fresh subsidies with which to pay it. “If ever,” said he, “you have desired to serve us and do us pleasure, see to doing and accomplishing all that is bidden you; make no default in anything whatsoever, and he henceforth in dread of the punishments which may ensue.” But there was everywhere a feeling of disgust with the service of Duke Charles; there was no more desire of serving him and no more fear of disobeying him; he encountered almost everywhere nothing but objections, complaints, and refusals, or else a silence and an inactivity which were still worse. Indignant, dismayed, and dumbfounded at such desertion, Charles retired to his castle of La Riviere, between Pontarlier and Joux, and shut himself up there for more than six weeks, without, however, giving up the attempt to collect soldiers. “Howbeit,” says Commynes, “he made but little of it; he kept himself quite solitary, and he seemed to do it from sheer obstinacy more than anything else. His natural heat was so great that he used to drink no wine, generally took barley-water in the morning and ate preserved rose-leaves to keep himself cool; but sorrow changed his complexion so much that he was obliged to drink good strong wine without water, and, to bring the blood back to his heart, burning tow was put into cupping- glasses, and they were applied thus heated to the region of the heart. Such are the passions of those who have never felt adversity, especially of proud princes who know not how to discover any remedy. The first refuge, in such a case, is to have recourse to God, to consider whether one have offended Him in aught, and to confess one’s misdeeds. After that, what does great good is to converse with some friend, and not be ashamed to show one’s grief before him, for that lightens and comforts the heart; and not at any rate to take the course the duke took of concealing himself and keeping himself solitary; he was so terrible to his own folks that none durst come forward to give him any comfort or counsel; but all left him to do as he pleased, feeling that, if they made him any remonstrance, it would be the worse for them.”
But events take no account of the fears and weaknesses of men. Charles learned before long that the Swiss were not his most threatening foes, and that he had something else to do instead of going after them amongst their mountains. During his two campaigns against them, the Duke of Lorraine, Rend II., whom he had despoiled of his dominions and driven from Nancy, had been wandering amongst neighboring princes and people in France, Germany, and Switzerland, at the courts of Louis XI. and the Emperor Frederic III., on visits to the patricians of Berne, and in the free towns of the Rhine. He was young, sprightly, amiable, and brave; he had nowhere met with great assistance, but he had been well received, and certain promises had been made him. When he saw the contest so hotly commenced between the Duke of Burgundy and the Swiss, he resolutely put himself at the service of the republican mountaineers, fought for them in their ranks, and powerfully contributed to their victory at Morat. The defeat of Charles and his retreat to his castle of La Riviere gave Rend new hopes, and gained him some credit amongst the powers which had hitherto merely testified towards him a good will of but little value; and his partisans in Lorraine recovered confidence in his for-tunes. One day, as he was at his prayers in a church, a rich widow, Madame Walther, came up to him in her mantle and hood, made him a deep reverence, and handed him a purse of gold to help him in winning back his duchy. The city of Strasbourg gave him some cannon, four hundred cavalry, and eight hundred infantry; Louis XI. lent him some money; and Rend before long found himself in a position to raise a small army and retake Epinal, Saint-Did, Vaudemont, and the majority of the small towns in Lorraine. He then went and laid siege to Nancy. The Duke of Burgundy had left there as governor John de Rubemprd, lord of Bievres, with a feeble garrison, which numbered amongst its ranks three hundred English, picked men. Sire de Bievres sent message after message to Charles, who did not even reply to him. The town was short of provisions; the garrison was dispirited; and the commander of the English was killed. Sire de Bievres, a loyal servant, but a soldier of but little energy, determined to capitulate. On the 6th of October, 1476, he evacuated the place at the head of his men, all safe in person and property. At sight of him Rend dismounted, and handsomely went forward to meet him, saying, “Sir, my good uncle, I thank you for having so courteously governed my duchy; if you find it agreeable to remain with me, you shall fare the same as myself.” “Sir,” answered Sire de Bievres, “I hope that you will not think ill of me for this war; I very much wish that my lord of Burgundy had never begun it, and I am much afraid that neither he nor I will see the end of it.”
Sire de Bievres had no idea how true a prophet he was. Almost at the very moment when he was capitulating, Duke Charles, throwing off his sombre apathy, was once more entering Lorraine with all the troops he could collect, and on the 22d of October he in his turn went and laid siege to Nancy. Duke Rend, not considering himself in a position to maintain the contest with only such forces as he had with him, determined to quit Nancy in person and go in search of re-enforcements at a distance, at the same time leaving in the town a not very numerous but a devoted garrison, which, together with the inhabitants, promised to hold out for two months. And it did hold out whilst Rend was visiting Strasbourg, Berne, Zurich, and Lucerne, presenting himself before the councils of these petty republics with, in order to please them, a tame bear behind him, which he left at the doors, and promising, thanks to Louis XI.‘s agents in Switzerland, extraordinary pay. He thus obtained auxiliaries to the number of eight thousand fighting men. He had, moreover, in the very camp of the Duke of Burgundy, a secret ally, an Italian condottiere, the Count of Campo-Basso, who, either from personal hatred or on grounds of interest, was betraying the master to whom he had bound himself. The year before, he had made an offer to Louis XI. to go over to him with his troops during a battle, or to hand over to him the Duke of Burgundy, dead or alive. Louis mistrusted the traitor, and sent Charles notice of the offers made by Campo-Basso. But Charles mistrusted Louis’s information, and kept Campo-Basso in his service. A little before the battle of Morat Louis had thought better of his scruples or his doubts, and had accepted, with the compensation of a pension, the kind offices of Campo-Basso. When the war took place in Lorraine, the condottiere, whom Duke Charles had one day grossly insulted, entered into communication with Duke Rend also, and took secret measures for insuring the failure of the Burgundian attempts upon Nancy. Such was the position of the two princes and the two armies, when, on the 4th of June, 1477, Rend, having returned with re-enforcements to Lorraine, found himself confronted with Charles, who was still intent upon the siege of Nancy. The Duke of Burgundy assembled his captains. “Well!” said he, “since these drunken scoundrels are upon us, and are coming here to look for meat and drink, what ought we to do?” The majority of those present were of opinion that the right thing to do was to fall back into the duchy of Luxembourg, there to recruit the enfeebled army. “Duke Rene,” they said, “is poor; he will not be able to bear very long the expense of the war, and his allies will leave him as soon as he has no more money; wait but a little, and success is certain.” Charles flew into a passion. “My father and I,” said he, “knew how to thrash these Lorrainers; and we will make them remember it. By St. George! I will not fly before a boy, before Rend of Vaudemont, who is coming at the head of this scum. He has not so many men with him as people think; the Germans have no idea of leaving their stoves in winter. This evening we will deliver the assault against the town, and to-morrow we will give battle.”
And the next day, January the 5th, the battle did take place, in the plain of Nancy. The Duke of Burgundy assumed his armor very early in the morning. When he put on his helmet, the gilt lion, which formed the crest of it, fell off. “That is a sign from God!” said he; but, nevertheless, he went and drew up his army in line of battle. The day but one before, Campo-Basso had drawn off his troops to a considerable distance; and he presented himself before Duke Rene, having taken off his red scarf and his cross of St. Andrew, and being quite ready, he said, to give proofs of his zeal on the spot. Rene spoke about it to his Swiss captains. “We have no mind,” said they, “to have this traitor of an Italian fighting beside us; our fathers never made use of such folk or such practices in order to conquer.” And Campo-Basso held aloof. The battle began in gloomy weather, and beneath heavy flakes of snow, lasted but a short time, and was not at all murderous in the actual conflict, but the pursuit was terrible. Campo-Basso and his troops held the bridge of Bouxieres, by which the Burgundian fugitives would want to pass; and the Lorrainerss of Rend and his Swiss and German allies scoured the country, killing all with whom they fell in. Rend returned to Nancy in the midst of a population whom his victory had delivered from famine as well as war. “To show him what sufferings they had endured,” says M. de Barante, “they conceived the idea of piling up in a heap, before the door of his hostel, the heads of the horses, dogs, mules, cats, and other unclean animals which had for several weeks past been the only food of the besieged.” When the first burst of joy was over, the question was, what had become of the Duke of Burgundy; nobody had a notion; and his body was not found amongst the dead in any of the places where his most valiant and faithful warriors had fallen. The rumor ran that he was not dead; some said that one of his servants had picked him up wounded on the field of battle, and was taking care of him, none knew where; and according to others, a German lord had made him prisoner, and carried him off beyond the Rhine. “Take good heed,” said many people, “how ye comport yourselves otherwise than if he were still alive, for his vengeance would be terrible on his return.” On the evening of the day after the battle, the Count of Campo-Basso brought to Duke Rend a young Roman page who, he said, had from a distance seen his master fall, and could easily find the spot again. Under his guidance a move was made towards a pond hard by the town; and there, half buried in the slush of the pond, were some dead bodies, lying stripped. A poor washerwoman, amongst the rest, had joined in the search; she saw the glitter of a jewel in the ring upon one of the fingers of a corpse whose face was not visible; she went forward, turned the body over, and at once cried, “Ah! my prince!” There was a rush to the spot immediately. As the head was being detached from the ice to which it stuck, the skin came off, and a large wound was discovered. On examining the body with care, it was unhesitatingly recognized to be that of Charles, by his doctor, by his chaplain, by Oliver de la Marche, his chamberlain, and by several grooms of the chamber; and certain marks, such as the scar of the wound he had received at Montlhery, and the loss of two teeth, put their assertion beyond a doubt. As soon as Duke Rend knew that they had at last found the body of the Duke of Burgundy, he had it removed to the town, and laid on a bed of state of black velvet, under a canopy of black satin. It was dressed in a garment of white satin; a ducal crown, set with precious stones, was placed on the disfigured brow; the lower limbs were cased in scarlet, and on the heels were gilded spurs. The Duke of Lorraine went and sprinkled holy water on the corpse of his unhappy rival, and, taking the dead hand beneath the pall, “Ah! dear cousin,” said he, with tears in his eyes.
For the time that I knew him he was not cruel; but he became so before his death, and that was a bad omen for a long existence. He was very sumptuous in dress and in all other matters, and a little too much so. He showed very great honor to ambassadors and foreign folks; they were right well feasted and entertained by him. He was desirous of great glory, and it was that more than ought else that brought him into his wars; he would have been right glad to be like to those ancient princes of whom there has been so much talk after their death; he was as bold a man as any that reigned in his day. . . . After the long felicity and great riches of this house of Burgundy, and after three great princes, good and wise, who had lasted six score years and more in good sense and virtue, God gave this people the Duke Charles, who kept them constantly in great war, travail, and expense, and almost as much in winter as in summer. Many rich and comfortable folks were dead or ruined in prison during these wars. The great losses began in front of Neuss, and continued through three or four battles up to the hour of his death; and at that hour all the strength of his country was sapped; and dead, or ruined, or captive, were all who could or would have defended the dominions and the honor of his house. Thus it seems that this loss was an equal set-off to the time of their felicity. “Please God to forgive Duke Charles his sins!”
