In 1407, the Duke de Bar resolved to take Metz by surprise. He secretly fitted out a train of boats, filled with arms and munitions of war, and sent a large body of soldiers, who secreted themselves near the town. All was prepared, and on the morrow an attack was to be made, when a sudden panic seized the attacking party, and they fled, leaving their boats and munitions, by which the Messins learnt the peril they had escaped.
In 1444, a furious war was waged between the Duke of Lorraine and the Messins: the Duke was assisted by his brother-in-law, Charles VII. of France. The quarrel originated in some money claims that the city had on the Duchess of Lorraine, which claims she refused to satisfy. The irritated Messins seized on the lady’s baggage between Pont-à-Mousson and Nancy, as she was performing a pilgrimage to the former. The Duke, in revenge, besieged the city, and the burghers ravaged his territories. Much blood was shed on both sides, until at last peace was made between the belligerents by the King, who received a sum of money from the Messins. So powerful was this republic, that it could single-handed wage war with a sovereign prince.
A few years after, when the celebrated War of Investitures took place, the Messins were called on to fight for Adolphe of Nassau, the nominee of the Pope. They pleaded their privileges and the late ruinous wars, and begged to remain neutral. The Pope, in consequence, excommunicated the city; a great number of the clergy obeyed the Papal Bull, and left in procession for Pont-à-Mousson, with the cross and banners at their head. For three years this extraordinary state of things lasted, during which time the churches were empty and the dying unshriven. At length the Pope took off the interdict, and the priests and canons returned, but the Messins had to pay dearly for their opposition to ecclesiastical power.
About this period the wily Louis XI. of France thought the time was come for joining Metz to his dominions; he accordingly wrote a kind, mild letter to the citizens, suggesting that they should put themselves under his protection, and thus secure their peace. The citizens wrote back cautiously, but expressed their surprise at the King’s proposition; he, fearing to incense and thus throw so powerful a city into alliance with the noblesse that were taking part against him, disowned his herald, and denied the letter he had sent.
The next event was an endeavour to take Metz by storm, on the part of the Duke of Lorraine, and it very nearly succeeded. Early in the morning of the 9th April, 1473, while the Messins still slept, ten thousand Lorrainese arrived near the walls from Pont-à-Mousson, having marched during the night; with them was a certain Krantz, nicknamed “La Grande Barbe,” who had constructed a peculiar waggon, filled with casks, which was capable of sustaining the weight of a portcullis, and thus preventing its closing when once it had been raised.
Disguised as merchants, Krantz and some of his companions, with a train of waggons filled with casks, among which was the peculiarly-constructed one, appeared before the city gates, and were admitted; the waggons entered, and the particular one was halted immediately beneath the portcullis, the pretended merchants then rushed on the guardian of the gate and killed him.
Being joined by a select body of five hundred men, who quickly entered, La Grande Barbe raised the shout of “Ville gagnée!” adding, “Slay, slay, women and children; spare none! Vive Lorraine!”
The awakened burghers rushed in disorder from their beds, knowing what these sounds portended, and all was lost but for the presence of mind of a baker named Harelle, who lived near the gate under which the waggon was stationed. He ran to the house over the gate, and succeeded in lowering the side portions of the portcullis, so that horsemen could not enter, and foot soldiers only by creeping under the waggon.
Then rushing into the streets, Harelle rallied and encouraged the citizens, and finally routed the Lorrainese, slaying La Grande Barbe and two hundred of his companions, the rest escaping by flight.
In a few minutes all was over; the assaulters dead or flown, the gates reclosed, and the assembled Council preparing to prosecute the war. Thus the clear-headed baker saved the good city of Metz.