Luckless Duke Charles had shut himself up in his castle near Pontarlier, a prey to a morbid despair, but hearing that René was reconquering Lorraine, he was spurred into taking up arms once more, and started for Nancy with a new force. René went back to Switzerland, and even with tears implored the Federal Diet to help him. The Diet would not themselves organize a new army, but permitted men to enlist of their own will under René's banner. Some eight thousand soldiers enlisted, and, under Hans Waldmann, retook Nancy, on January 15, 1477. The fate of the unhappy Charles is well known; his corpse was found in a bog embedded in ice and snow. A popular rhyme thus characterizes Charles's triple misfortune:—
"Zü Grandson das Gut,
Zü Murten den Mut,
Zü Nancy das Blut."
The acquisition of the victors were in no way adequate to the labour expended. Franche Comté, to which the Eidgenossen had a title, and which the cities wished to annex, was sold to Louis for a sum of money, which he never paid, however. The Swiss merely retained the protectorate over the province, whose envoys had begged on their knees that they might be admitted to the Swiss Federation, to prevent their falling into the hands of France or Austria, a fate which was, however, to be theirs. Grandson Murten, Bex, &c., remained with Bern and Freiburg, but the greater part of Vaud fell back to Savoy, for a ransom of fifty thousand florins. Geneva had to pay half that sum as a war contribution; yet the way was paved for the annexation of Vaud. Freiburg and Low-Valais were entirely rescued from the grasp of Savoy.
FOOTNOTES:
[37] See Chap. VI.
[38] One curious instance of his failures may be given. The Burgundian crown was ready for him, and he proceeded to Trier (1473) to have it placed on his brow by the (Roman) emperor, and push his imperial claims. However, Frederick III., becoming alarmed at the presumption of the future Welsh-German sovereign, broke off negotiations, and fled at night with his son Max, who was to have married the daughter of Charles.
[39] A pleasant story is related to the effect that, on one occasion, some young Zurich men started off in a boat by way of the Limmat and the Rhine, taking a dish of hot lentils with them. Reaching Strasburg in the evening they placed the dish, still hot, on the mayor's dinner table. A famous poem, "Glückhaft Schiff," describes the event.
[40] Well known from Scott's "Anne of Geierstein."
[41] For these matters the reader is directed to Freeman's admirable essay on Charles the Bold.