Chapter VI

The Tournament at Little Basle

At the time the League had grown so strong, Duke Albrecht the Second ruled in Austria and enjoyed the friendship of the Emperor Charles the Fourth, of the house of Luxemburg. In preparing for a struggle with the League he had strengthened his castles and cities and had assured himself of the loyal service of his vassals. The war, however, was confined to pillaging expeditions and petty encounters which did the League little harm, and at last an unconditional peace was made between the two parties. After Albrecht’s death, his oldest son, Rudolph the Fourth, succeeded. This prince, the first of his house to receive the title of archduke, had the hereditary Hapsburg spirit and strove to the utmost to extend the supremacy of the empire. Notwithstanding the Emperor Charles was his father-in-law, he opposed him by every kind of artifice and continually interfered with his plans. He strengthened himself by alliances with neighboring powers, especially with Basle and other imperial cities, and weakened the Emperor’s power in Italy. By the marriage of his brother Leopold to the daughter of Bernabo Visconti of Milan he secured the adherence of many noble Italian families. He appointed Brun, the Zurich burgomaster, a member of his privy council and thus attached him to his interests. He drove in a wedge between Lake Zurich and Schwyz, by the purchase of territory, and to secure control of the commercial highway from Italy to Germany he built a bridge across the lake upon the pretext of shortening the route for pious pilgrims on their way to retreats. While engaged in these various enterprises the prince died in his twenty-sixth year and was succeeded by his brother Leopold, in 1365.

Leopold, although inclined to mysticism, was of martial spirit and handled the lance at tournaments in a masterly way. Hardly a year of his life had passed without finding him engaged in war. While he had a numerous following of knights and nobles, his devoutness and straightforwardness also commended him to the favor of the people, among whom many stories of his acts of generosity were told, like those reported later about his Uncle Maximilian, “the last of the knights.”

Leopold took such advantage of the quarrels between the petty princes in upper Italy that he soon checked the designs of the powerful republic of Venice. His father-in-law Visconti was of great service to him in this. The predecessors of Visconti had established their power when the Lombardy League was swallowed up in a multitude of petty sovereignties. The masters of Milan at this time, Bernabo and his brother Galeazzo the Second, needing brave soldiers for their wars of conquest, many young men of the mountain country organized into troops which were granted special privileges because of their loyalty to the Viscontis. The two Milan lords were excellent army leaders but tyrannical toward their subjects. At last they became so bold as to take up arms against Pope Gregory the Eleventh, for which they were excommunicated. At the same time the Pope forbade these young mountaineers to render service to them. They recognized the papal authority and most of them returned to their homes.

Among them was Arnold of Winkelried. His home possessions were insignificant. We have already seen that even as a boy he had shown a warlike spirit in numerous ways. He had practised all the feats of arms with indefatigable activity, and had been well instructed in them, but as there were few opportunities for their use at home he had taken service at Milan. He fought for strangers to learn how to fight for his fatherland whenever it should need his help. He had participated in numerous encounters, had been wounded several times, and had won such distinction that he was admitted to knighthood.

In the beginning of the year 1370 Arnold of Winkelried once more stood upon his native soil. He was tall, powerful, and in the very prime of his manhood. He vainly sought for the opportunity to perform active deeds. Peace and quiet prevailed all over the country. His restless spirit was not satisfied with managing the small home affairs. He longed for the tumult of battle and the strenuous life of the soldier, to which he had been accustomed of late. He endured the quiet of Stans for a few weeks only, after which notwithstanding the inclement season of the year he undertook a journey to the larger cities of the League, to see and hear what was going on. It was not mere chance that took him to Zurich. He had been told at Stans that his old-time playmate, Florian Häbli, whom he met as a houseless wanderer at the monastery of Engelberg and had helped to the utmost of his ability, was living with a famous armorer at Zurich. He sought him there to have a talk over old times, and found him in the midst of a crowd of workmen in the same place where we have seen him as Master Hildprand’s apprentice. The meeting was a cordial one. When the old-time fisherman and woodcutter’s son began by addressing Arnold as “sir knight” and “noble sir,” he was firmly bidden to use the familiar “thou.”

As they had much to talk about, the armorer entertained his distinguished visitor in his own house. Florian’s uncle was childless, and as he was comfortably off and wished to live quietly in his old age, he had transferred his prosperous business to his nephew, who was conducting it with like success. In the meantime Florian had gone about the world considerably, and had worked in many a famous city. He had been in Strasburg, where for more than three centuries they had been building a magnificent cathedral, the spire of which was just beginning to rise. He had also stood before a mighty cathedral in Cologne, which was begun a century before, but in late times the work had stopped. In no city, however, had he seen so much activity as at Prague. The Emperor Charles had laid out an entirely new section of the city in which numerous churches and monasteries were going up, and a great stone bridge was built over the Moldau. The finest structure, however, was the training school, the scholars in which were called students. Florian had also worked for a time at Frankfort-on-the-Main, and he could hardly find words to describe the fair which was held there twice a year. It was to this fair that the large cities on the Rhine, from Basle to Cologne, sent their merchandise; and heavily laden vessels brought goods there from France. Fur dealers from the Hanse towns, linen and lace dealers from the cities of Flanders, and goldsmiths from Burgundy met there. England’s steel wares as well as the various products of Wales were exhibited. Every building was packed with people and goods to the roof, great multitudes thronged the streets, and as the city could not accommodate all the strangers, many of them had to live in tents. It was one of the grandest of spectacles. Florian had seen an ostrich and an elephant there for the first time; and one of the numerous pickpockets had made off with his purse. He talked long about his adventures in other cities, but he made no mention of his exciting experiences at the Rebstock, for he still respected his oath. He felt a quiet satisfaction at having saved Zurich, and attributed to it all the blessings which had been so generously bestowed upon him within its walls.

Arnold talked of his war adventures in Italy, and as he came to the end he said: “But now my sword and armor are rusting. I vainly look for any place in the world where war is going on and glory can be found. I am sick of these peaceful times.”

Master Florian significantly placed his forefinger upon his nose. He could give him some information. There was a region in northern Prussia where the clash of arms never ceased. The pagan Prussians were not yet conquered, and there was always plenty of fighting in the adjacent Lithuania. Many a one who had been told this by Florian had been there and had brought back dreadful news about the country and its savage inhabitants.

Arnold was at last satisfied. The greater the danger the greater the glory, especially when gained in fighting for the spread of Christianity. Nothing would suit him better than to go to that northern country. It increased his delight when Florian told him there was an opportunity for him to go with a goodly company. Duke Leopold had arranged an expedition for that very purpose. It was said he had already assembled a thousand knights from Austria, Swabia, and other German countries. They were to meet at Basle, and the Duke was to hold a grand tournament there on Shrove Tuesday, and then leave at once for Marienburg, the castle of the Teutonic Order.

Arnold decided on the instant to join the expedition, but he was also anxious to show his prowess at the tournament, so that he should not be a stranger in this array of famous knights and nobles. But Shrove Tuesday was only a few days off, and as he must return to Stans, the time was too short to allow of his getting to Basle in good season. He explained the situation to Florian, who replied: “If it is your armor that delays you, as I surmise, the journey to Stans is unnecessary. You need armor and a horse. As far as armor and weapons are concerned, I have everything you want and you are welcome to use it; and as far as the horse is concerned, I have a friend here who has several fine ones, which even Duke Leopold himself would not be ashamed to ride. He will let you have one on my security, and all you have to do is to make your choice.”

Arnold cordially shook Florian’s hand and thanked him for his friendly assistance, of which he should certainly avail himself. “But you know, Florian,” he said with a smile, “that horse and armor belong to the knight who unseats his opponent. Supposing I should be the unfortunate one!”

“I am not afraid of that,” said Florian, regarding him with a look of pride. “I know my hero of Pilatus.”

Arnold soon made a choice of armor and weapons from the young master’s large stock. He selected a snow-white battle-horse which combined strength and suppleness of limb with a fiery nature. Thus equipped and well mounted, Arnold rode off one day to Basle, after taking a cordial farewell of Florian.

The free city of Basle is situated upon the Rhine. Great Basle is upon one bank and Little Basle upon the other. On the morning of Shrove Tuesday the city was crowded with a multitude of persons who had come on foot and horse, some to participate in the merry-makings of the city, and others to attend the tournament. The tilting-field was oval in shape, and surrounded by gayly decorated lists. The stands filled gradually. The marshals of the tournament, staves in hand, took their seats with their halberds placed before them. The referees sat below them, and the herald stood in front, clad in glistening mail, adorned with the heraldic symbols.

Suddenly there was a jubilant outburst from the musicians’ gallery as Duke Leopold appeared upon his proudly prancing steed, attended by a brilliant retinue of pages and squires. After he had dismounted, the Duke seated himself under a canopy, with his attendants stationed about him in a circle. He waved a white handkerchief as the signal for the tournament to begin. The gates were opened, and accompanied by strains of music the combatants rode around the lists with lances at rest. Six of them went to six tents at the north end of the arena. There they dismounted, leaving their steeds to the care of servants, and each went to his tent, upon which was suspended his escutcheon. These were the six challenging knights.

At a signal from the trumpet the herald rode to the centre of the arena and proclaimed the regulations so that all might hear. Then there was a sudden commotion at the south end, caused by the rush of knights who were to contest with the challengers. Only six could be chosen, and these were selected by lot. Each one of these touched the escutcheon of the one with whom he was to contend, with his lance, doing it with the blunt end and not the point, which signified that the contest was not a life and death one, but a test of skill and strength on each side.

When the six knights had ridden back and formed in line, the six challengers mounted their steeds and took their places a short distance away from the others. At the sound of the trumpet both parties rushed at each other. The challengers were apparently sure of success. Five of their opponents were unhorsed at the first onset, but the sixth knight kept his saddle. Both his own lance and that of his opponent were shivered at the same time, so that neither was victor. Amid the shouts of the crowd and the din of trumpets the challengers rode back to their tents, and the vanquished ones picked themselves up and disappeared from the arena. The contest was soon resumed. After many others had been defeated there was a pause. It seemed as if no one cared to enter the lists.

Suddenly a trumpet sounded at the southern end of the arena, and the crowd beheld a knight of stately figure riding up to the six tents at the northern end upon a milk-white steed. He halted, and his lance touched an escutcheon which was decorated with a tree and two ravens hovering over it. There was universal astonishment, for the owner of this escutcheon was the most dexterous and powerful of all the challengers. He instantly came from his tent to ascertain who his opponent was. The latter lifted his visor and disclosed the face of Arnold of Winkelried, as the reader probably has anticipated. The other, taking Arnold’s courtesy for an expression of scorn, also lifted his visor and disclosed the stern features of Veit of Mörsperg.

“Your steed pleases me. It looks to me as if it might soon have another stall, and I have one which will suit him, and there is plenty of room in my armor chamber for that mail of yours,” scornfully said Veit, as he gloated over the prizes of the contest, which he was sure were his.

“Many thanks for your warning,” replied Arnold, “but if you expect to secure the prize, I would advise you to take a fresh horse and new lance, for you are sadly in need of both.”

Hardly had the trumpet sounded when the two dashed from their places with lightning speed and met in the centre of the arena with such force that both their lances were shattered and the horses sank upon their haunches, but by the help of bridle and spurs they were soon up again. Fire flashed from Veit’s eyes as he looked at his opponent. Both went back for new lances. They rushed at each other again at the sound of the trumpet. Veit aimed a thrust at Arnold’s head, which would have been dangerous had it succeeded, but Arnold evaded it and thereupon struck Veit’s shield such a powerful blow in the centre that his opponent wavered in the saddle and the lance was shattered. After Arnold had secured another lance the two knights made the third attack. This time the order was reversed. It was now the Mörsperger’s lance which struck Arnold’s shield in the centre. Arnold wavered for a second, for the thrust was so powerful that the splinters flew far and wide; but at the same instant, Arnold with well directed aim had struck Veit’s helmet with such force that he was unhorsed and fell backwards. A cloud of dust hid them while the multitude were enthusiastically hailing the victor. When it cleared away, horse and rider were already up, and Veit, bleeding from a wound in the face, snarled at his conqueror, “We shall meet again.”

“There will be ample opportunity on our way to the North, I hope,” replied Arnold. Veit made no reply. He had no intention of going there, for there was not sufficient plunder among the savages to tempt him. The meeting, however, took place at another time, as we shall see.

Arnold, who had come to Basle with borrowed armor, won not less than five prizes that day. When the tournament was finished he sent back his steed and armor to their owners at Zurich and took for himself only those which he had won from Veit. He declined the rest as well as the money with which by the rules of the tournament the vanquished might redeem their property.