That memorable event of the seventeenth century, the signing of the Peace of Westphalia, which concluded the Thirty Years' War, whilst, on the one hand, it sanctioned the dismemberment of the German Empire, yet ratified the independence and autonomy of the Swiss republics. This result was chiefly due to the noble efforts of two men—Wettstein, Burgomaster of Basel, who most effectively championed Swiss interests at the Congress; and Henry d'Orleans Longueville, count and reigning prince of Neuchâtel, the French representative at the same conference, who supported the Swiss claims.
The religious strife of Villmergen in 1656, which ended in the defeat of the Protestants, cannot be gone into here. Suffice it to note that this defeat was fully repaired by the second war of that name in 1712. A more important matter was the Peasants' Revolt, in 1653. It promised to grow to alarming dimensions, but was put down by the Government. This rising, however, is noteworthy, as marking the vast chasm which had formed between the labouring and the governing classes. The peasantry were now in a state of complete subjection, and patiently awaited the dawn of a brighter day, which nevertheless came only with the French Revolution. What they claimed was the restoration of their old liberties, relief from the excessive taxation, and the general improvement of their material interests. But many of the governing classes, councillors, landvögte, and others, had served abroad at foreign courts, and had drunk in the spirit of absolutism, and were as much imbued as any James I. or Louis XIV. with notions as to the "divine right" of the privileged classes to govern. They claimed seats on the administration as a right. From their superior positions they looked down on the labouring classes, and had little or no sympathy with them. Except in name the Swiss cantons were as absolutely governed by aristocracies as France was by Louis XIV. Nothing is more ludicrous, or more clearly shows the affectations and narrow pedantries of the age, than the childish delight in long or high-flown titles, by which the Swiss "regents," as they were called, were wont to address each other, and be addressed even by foreigners. "Leurs excellences," "noble-born," and so forth, were as common amongst Swiss republicans as in any monarchy.[72] Nor were they behindhand in the adoption of court fashions, wigs, frills, and the like; whilst they hunted eagerly for patents of nobility, and placed the "von" so unblushingly before their names that the higher classes, and really well-born for the most part dropped it for a time.
The Eidgenossen, however, were eminently useful soldiers, and Louis XIV. in 1663 wheedled or tricked them into the renewal of the alliance with France, an alliance into which Le Barde had tried in vain for thirteen years to coax them. The wily Louis invited a Swiss embassy to his Court, and for a whole week amused and flattered his guests with a succession of banquets, ceremonies, and entertainments. Molière played before them by royal command. The ambassadors were thus beguiled into admitting some of the most important points in the treaty, the neutrality of Burgundy, the liquidation of the old debt, &c. On the 18th of November, in the presence of the whole French Court, at Notre Dame, the Swiss representatives agreed to a disgraceful and humiliating bargain with Louis. The king was not, however, inclined to lavish money on them like his predecessors had done. One day Louvois complained to him that his Swiss troops stood him dear, that for the money they had cost him and his predecessors the road could be paved with crown-pieces from Paris to Basel. Stuppa from the Grisons, overhearing this, quickly retorted, "Sir, you forget that with the Swiss blood spilt in the French service you might fill a canal from Basel to Paris."
Despite the engagements to France which Switzerland had entered into, it never ceased to give shelter to the French refugees who fled to escape the persecutions of Louis—to the Waldenses and the Huguenots. After the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, sixty-six thousand emigrants are said to have found shelter in Switzerland. Amongst the Swiss cities Geneva stands out conspicuously and honourably by her great benevolence. Not to speak of the vast amount of private assistance given, the municipality spent on the relief of the religious refugees no less a sum than five million florins between 1685 and 1726. Gradually the Eidgenossen became alive to the real character of Louis and his negotiations with them, and ashamed of their own lack of patriotism. As early as 1689, indeed, we find Swiss envoys from Bern and Zurich at Paris, rejecting his bribes, his golden chains, and what not. And on their return home they received the eulogies of their people for their integrity and independence. Gradually the league with France was set aside, or ignored. Nevertheless, the system of mercenary service remained an evil—one may say a cancerous evil—in the Swiss policy of the later centuries.
FOOTNOTES:
[68] Appealing to the absurd pretended national relationship between Swedes and Switzers, an etymology of the Middle Ages.
[69] See the chapter on the Swabian wars.
[70] Rohan was a great friend to Zurich, and presented to its city library which was then forming his "Parfait Capitaine," a Hebrew Bible, and his portrait. He was by his own request buried at Geneva, and his death was greatly regretted by the reformed cities. The letters written by his family in reply to the "Condolence of Zurich" are still preserved in the library. See pamphlet on Rohan by Professor von Wyss.
[71] In Meyer's novel, Lucretia is betrothed to Jenatsch and takes the veil after the murder of Jenatsch, but this story has no foundation in fact.
[72] A few of these magnificent titles, or epithets, may be noted: "Hoch," "Wohlgeachtete," "Edle," "Fromme," "Fürsichtige," "Fürnehme," "Weise Herren," and many more such like.