Part 13

Whilst the republics vied with each other in extending their borders, two, Uri and Unterwalden, were unable to increase their territory, being hemmed in by lofty mountains. They turned their eyes towards the sunny south, beyond St. Gothard, where they might find additional lands. Like the Rhætians of old they had often descended into the Lombard plains, though for far more peaceful ends. When the St. Gothard pass was thrown open in the thirteenth century, there was a lively interchange of traffic between the two peoples--the cismontanes and the transmontanes. The men of the Forest sold their cheese, butter, cattle, and other Alpine produce at the marts in the Lombardian towns, and got from thence their supply of corn and other necessaries. And they of the Forest acted as guides across the mountains, as they did down to the railway era. Their youths, too, enlisted amongst the Italians soldiers, induced either by the prospect of gaining a living, or by a mere desire for amusement. Thus the Swiss associated on friendly terms with the southerners. But all this pleasant social intercourse was suddenly cut off. Whilst the Eidgenossen under the ægis of a weakened empire secured independence, the mighty Lombard cities, which had objected to imperial fetters, however light, by a singular contrast sank beneath the tyrannies of ambitious native dynasts, and under the Visconti the duchy of Milan sprang up from these free Italian towns. Quarrels that broke out between the Milanese and the people of the Forest prepared the way for the acquisition of Ticino by the Swiss. In 1403 Uri and Unterwalden were robbed of their herds of cattle at the mart of Varese by the officials of the Visconti, on what pretext is not clear. Failing to get redress, they at once decided on resorting to force. They seized the Livinenthal or Leventina, which willingly accepted the new masters. Fresh robberies in 1410 were revenged by the annexation of the Eschenthal, with Domo d'Ossola, which greatly preferred Swiss supremacy to that of the Duke of Milan. This is not much to be wondered at, seeing that Gian Maria Visconti was a second Nero for cruelty. The human beings who fell victims to his suspicion or revenge he had torn to pieces by huge dogs, which were fed on human blood. To strengthen their Italian acquisitions the Eidgenossen bought Bellinzona (1418) from the barons of Sax-Misox or Misocco of Graubünden. But the Milanese dukes would not brook the loss of these lands, and a long-protracted war ensued with varying success. Most of the more distant cantons being opposed to these Italian conquests declined to send help, but hearing that Bellinzona had been captured by the Visconti, some three thousand Eidgenossen marched to its relief in 1422. They were, however, no match for the twenty-four thousand troops gathered by the famous general Carmagnola. Lying in ambush for the Swiss he succeeded in completely shutting them in at Arbedo, with the exception of six hundred who had escaped into the valley of Misox. For six hours the small Swiss band fought to the utmost, refusing to give way, though opposed by a force of ten times their number, and well trained. Suddenly their brethren came to their relief, or they would have been crushed. The Swiss loss was two hundred, that of the enemy nine hundred. But the conquests were forfeited for the present. Yet the Swiss pushed on to new war to redeem their misfortunes under the Sforza. A brilliant victory was that of Giornico (Leventina), 1478, where six hundred Swiss under Theiling from Lucerne defeated a force of fifteen thousand Milanese soldiers. This tended greatly to spread Swiss military fame in Italy.

FOOTNOTES:

[34] It is related that Uli Rotach kept at bay with his halbert twelve Austrians, giving way only when the hut against which he leant was set on fire.

[35] To Bern fell the classic spots Habsburg and Königsfelden.

[36] As a retort to those who thus nicknamed him this extravagant prince built a balcony at Innsbruck whose roof was covered with gold, at the cost of thirty thousand florins--it would be twenty times more money now. Every visitor to that romantic city will be struck by the quaint _Haus zum goldenen Dachere_ (House with the golden roof).

XVII.

WAR BETWEEN ZURICH AND SCHWYZ.

(1436-1450.)

A gloomy picture in Swiss history do these civil wars present, marking as they do the chasm separating the Confederates, who were each swayed by a spirit of jealous antagonism. Yet it was clear that the town and the country commonwealths--citizens and peasants--formed such strong contrasts that they would not always pull together. Indeed, the smouldering discontent was suddenly fanned into flame by questions respecting hereditary succession that threatened to consume the whole Confederation. Feudalism was tottering to its fall in Switzerland, but it seemed as if the famous counts of Toggenburg were for a while to stay its ruin in the eastern portion of the country. Frederick III. (1400-1436) possessed what would come up to the present canton of St. Gall, the Ten Gerichte, a large portion of Graubünden, Voralberg (which he had wrenched from Friedel "of the Empty Pocket"), and other districts. Despite the popular struggles for freedom he managed to maintain his authority by adroit and designing policy and by alliance with Zurich and Schwyz, which stood by him against foes domestic and foreign. Having no children Frederick promised that on his death the two cantons should receive his domains south of Zurich lake, which acquisition would round off their territory. He died in 1436, but left no will--intentionally, as was thought by some, with the view of entangling the Confederates in quarrels--"tying their tails together," as the expressive but not very polished phrase had it. Be that as it may, the apple of discord was soon in the midst, and there set up as claimants numerous seigneurs of Graubünden, barons from the Valais, near relatives, as well as Austria and the empire. Zurich and Schwyz also contended for the promised stretch of land. To penetrate into the maze of petty conflicts which followed would be ridiculous as it would be impossible. In accordance with her more aristocratic inclinations Zurich paid court to the dowager countess whilst Schwyz humoured rather the subjects as the future masters, and the three latter proved in the end to have had the better judgment. The strife, indeed, fell into one of emulation between the two most energetic and talented statesmen of the two commonwealths. One of these leading men was burgomaster Stüssi, of Zurich, and the other was Ital von Reding, from Schwyz, both highly gifted and energetic men. Even from their youth they had been rivals, incited by the Emperor Sigismund whose favour they enjoyed.

Save the battle of St. Jacques on the Birse, the war brought forth no great military exploits, and as it effected no material changes it may be very briefly passed over. It splits naturally into three periods. The first of these (1436-1442) is simply a series of wasteful feuds waged by the Confederates alone. Schwyz had taken for itself the whole heritage in question, with the exception of one fragmentary portion left to its rival. Zurich, thus deprived of her portion, and disappointed in her scheme of planning a direct commercial road to Italy through Graubünden, retaliated by shutting her market against Schwyz and Glarus, causing a famine in the two districts. The Confederates did not act with impartiality in the matter, but, laying all blame on Zurich, drove her to arms. She was, however, again a loser, for her territory to the east of the lake, which was the theatre of war, was terribly wasted. This portion of the land Schwyz wished to annex, but was prevented by order of the federal Diet. Nevertheless Zurich lost to Schwyz and Glarus three villages on the upper lake, and the island Ufenau which she had governed for half a century, and she was compelled to re-open her roads and market.

Deeply wounded by the position of the Confederates in the opposition ranks, and still more by the humiliation inflicted on her by the rustics of Schwyz, the proud, free city of Zurich thirsted for revenge. Thus the second period of conflict began, and in June, 1442, Zurich sought a foreign alliance. Stüssi, or his secretary, who was his right hand, taking advantage of her old leanings towards Austria, conceived the Machiavelian plan of joining in union with the deadly foe of the Confederates. Despite the firm opposition of a strong party of noble and eminent patriots, the coalition was arranged. The plea was put forward that the "imperial city," by virtue of her exceptional position, and the treaty concluded under the auspices of Brun, in 1351, was allowed to make any alliances she chose. Disloyalty was thus coloured by a show of truth. The Emperor Frederick III. and his brother, Albrecht of Austria, proceeded to Zurich to receive the homage and allegiance of the enthusiastic population. The Confederates guessing the meaning of this move tried to convince the renegade member of her perfidy. But their efforts failing, all, Bern included--though she took no prominent or active part, being chiefly occupied by her Burgundian politics--sent their challenge to Austria and Zurich. The war, though fiercer and bloodier than the first, was just as luckless, owing to dissensions arising amongst the allies, the men of Zurich being unwilling to submit to a many-headed Austrian lordship. The struggle was carried on by fits and starts, the Confederates returning home on one occasion for the annual haymaking. Having laid waste the Zurich territory the Confederates proceeded to attack the capital itself. During a sally to St. Jacques on the Sihl, Stüssi fell in defence of the bridge over that river, whilst endeavouring to keep back the foe and stay the flight of the fugitives. His heroic death makes one almost forget his ambitious and misguided policy. At last the Zurich forces drew up their guns on the Lindenhof, an eminence within the town. A single ball worked wonders, for, piercing the walls of a barn, it upset the table at which were sitting a party of Glarner, and carried off the head of the topmost man at the table. Greatly impressed by this result the besiegers rushed from the premises, stopped the siege, and began negotiations for a truce. But the Austrians objected to the truce, fearing a reconciliation between Zurich and the Confederates, and they incited the mob to make a set against the patriotic councillors who were believed to be the prime movers in the peace negotiations. A state of terrorism set in, five of the leading men were demanded by the populace, and were publicly beheaded; and ten more suffered the same fate. Thus powerless had Zurich grown in the hands of Austria. The truce being thus prevented the Eidgenossen proceeded to besiege Greifensee, a strong fortress in the Zurich midlands. For four weeks the garrison of eighty men held out, but, being at last betrayed by a peasant, were compelled to surrender at discretion. Sentence of death was passed on the brave defenders by a majority of the Confederates, and the cruel sentence was carried out in a meadow at hand. Ital von Reding stood by to see that the imperial custom of passing over every tenth man should not be followed in this case. However when sixty had fallen he turned away, and the rest were spared. Strange stories attach to that bloody spot, and indeed Nemesis soon avenged the cruel deed. A second siege of the capital was undertaken by the Confederates, but proved a failure like the first. The men of Zurich, in fact, made light of the siege, and a band of young men even sallied forth and captured wine and other provisions.

Wishful to bring matters to an issue, Austria turned to France for assistance, well knowing that she herself was no match for the Eidgenossen in open field. She was, besides, tired of the profitless and resultless kind of war which had hitherto been carried on. Charles VII. was anxious to get rid of his mercenary troops, the savage Armagnacs, which he had led against England, and was glad to launch them on Swiss lands. This combination of Austrian and French arms--the Zurcher remained at home to defend their still beleaguered city--introduces the third and last portion of the war. The Dauphin (Louis XI.), with an army of thirty thousand men, marched against Basel, and the Eidgenossen, unacquainted with the numbers of the enemy, set out to meet them. When they came within sight of the foe, they crossed the river Birse in the most exuberant spirits. Soon, however, they were split into two divisions by the heavy fire of the French, and one of these being surrounded on an island in the river was completely annihilated by the overwhelming numbers, though fighting with marvellous bravery. The other division took up a position behind the garden walls of the infirmary of St. Jacques, on the river (August 26, 1444). Here for six hours a small body of some five or six hundred men held their ground. Twice they withstood the assault of a foe twenty or thirty times their number, and twice themselves rushed on in attack. But at last the walls gave way, pierced through and through, and the foe rushed through the breach. A hand-to-hand fight followed, till the hospital being fired the Swiss were compelled to succumb. Yet, though failing, each man died a hero. Some drew arrows from their wounds, and hurled them at the enemy; others who had lost one hand swung their halberts with the other. The Armagnacs, who had fought in many a bloody battle, confessed that never before had they met with a foe so dauntless, so regardless of death. The Austrians, however, denied the Swiss such testimony. On the day following the battle a German knight was riding over the field wading in blood, and boasted to his comrades, "To-day we seem to be bathing in roses." "There, eat thy roses!" yelled a dying Uri soldier, flinging at his head a large stone which struck him dead from his horse. Louis, who had lost some four thousand men in the fight, was greatly impressed by such show of bravery on the part of the Swiss, and concluded an honourable peace with them at Ensisheim, on the 28th of October, 1444. St. Jacques is a second Swiss Thermopylæ, and sheds immortal honour on the combatants. Though beaten the Confederates were not dishonoured. Like the brave Spartans under Leonidas they preferred death to servitude and dishonour. This battle was also the turning-point of the federal war; it rendered the Confederates more pliant. And though desultory feuds still showed themselves, peace was at last concluded, in 1450, by which Zurich was forced to give up her Austrian alliance. The federal league was knit more closely together than ever before; old injuries were soon forgotten, and the Eidgenossen accepted an invitation to Zurich to join in the carnival festivities got up to celebrate the reconciliation, 1454. A deplorable incident took place during the festivities, the seizure by the Eidgenossen, at the minster, of the famous savant, Felix Malleolus, a canon of the Church. Born of an ancient family at Zurich, he was educated first at the Carolinum in his native city, and afterwards at the university of Bologna, which was the glory of the Middle Ages. Bold, and of an unbending will, early acquainted with the corruptions of the Church and clergy, he hurled bitter invectives against the guilty, and raised for himself a host of enemies amongst the priesthood. And during the early years of the war he had likewise attacked the Eidgenossen as enemies of his native town, and called them an illiterate, uncouth, and belligerent race. His own chapter had objected to so stern a man as provost, and he had consequently contented himself with the position of canon, a position which left him ample time for study, and the composition of learned pamphlets. When the Eidgenossen seized him he was bending over his beloved books. He was hurried to Constance, and was there, by the bishop, thrown into the same prison as that occupied by the martyr Huss. The higher clergy as a rule connived at the deed, and, though promised release, he was handed over a prisoner to the monks at Lucerne. Here the lofty words of Cellano, _"Dies irae, dies illa,"_ so well known from their use in Mozart's Requiem Mass, seem to have been a great consolation to the unfortunate canon. It is not known exactly when he died.

XVIII.

BURGUNDIAN WARS.

(1474-1477.)

These wars raised to its height the military glory of the Eidgenossen, and instead of the limited sphere occupied by most of the previous wars, we find ourselves now watching a scene of world-wide interest and importance. Three Great Powers--France, Germany, and Austria--if such a term is applicable in the fifteenth century, are striving for the downfall of a fourth great realm, Burgundy, in some respects the mightiest of them all. The Swiss League, no less interested in the issue, is made the instrument for bringing about that tragical ending which strikes Burgundy for ever from the list of future kingdoms.

Charles the Bold aimed at the re-establishment of the ancient kingdom of Lorraine, such as it was created by the treaty of Verdun in 843.[37] This was to be a middle kingdom between French and German territory--a kingdom which, stretching from the North Sea through to the Mediterranean, would absorb the Swiss Confederation, and what of other territory we cannot tell. A striking scheme, and one which, if it had succeeded, would have greatly changed the face of modern politics. Charles's deadliest foe was Louis of France, who was unswervingly bent on his destruction. Politically, the two men were the very antipodes of each other. The romantic duke is the embodiment of mediæval chivalry; the sober Louis that of modern absolutism. His reign seals the fate of dying feudalism. Louis is like an immovable rock against which the effete Middle Ages dash themselves in vain. He stands, indeed, between two great historical epochs. Charles is doomed to fall; for pitilessly Louis crushes his unruly vassals, and feudatory France is by his power welded into a mighty and absolute monarchy. The ambitious hotspur, the warlike duke, believes himself a second Alexander. And, indeed, in all Christendom there is no court so splendid as his, no treasury so vast. His magnificence is more than royal, more even than imperial, and he grapples with numberless intricate problems. To carry out his plans he stakes realm and life, but lacking patience and sound political judgment he fails in his chief enterprises.[38]

The preliminary steps leading to the war are a diplomatic maze, revealing the double-dealing of the actors, and likewise showing the uncertain position held by the Swiss League in the empire. The destruction of this league, and the overthrow of Charles the Bold were chiefly aimed at. The maze of intrigue is, indeed, well-nigh impenetrable; yet, because the preliminaries are far less known than the wars which followed, and the actual facts have been often distorted, they will, no doubt, command general interest, and we shall try to disentangle the skeins as best we can. The battle of St. Jacques had secured for the Confederates, not only the sympathies of Louis, but also the alliance of his father, Philip the Good, of Burgundy, the Sforzas of Milan, and others. Since those times of prowess the young republic had been growing into a prosperous and powerful nation, not without its influence on continental military affairs. Admired, envied, and feared, by turns, its friendship was greatly appreciated, and it lent protection to all who sought it. So strong was its love of warfare, that it was at all times ready to avenge any wrong or fancied wrong done to itself or its friends. Thus, Zurich, in 1456, laid waste the lands of the Austrian knight-robbers who had plundered some Strasburg merchants on a Swiss round. Despite the distance between them, the two towns of Strasburg and Zurich were on terms of close friendship.[39] At the bidding of Pius II., the elegant Latin writer commonly known as Æneas Sylvius, who had fallen out with his literary friend, Duke Sigmund of Austria, the Eidgenossen conquered Thurgau, which had remained still an Austrian province, and placed it amongst their subject lands. The quarrels of Mulhausen and Schaffhausen with Austria entangled their friends of the league into a war with Sigmund (1468), who, to secure peace, agreed to pay over the sum of ten thousand florins, guaranteeing them their recent conquests. This feud of Waldshut (Black Forest) led to the Burgundian wars.

Extravagant but poor, Sigmund failed to find even that modest sum, and applied to Louis of France for help, but was by him referred to Charles of Burgundy. The astute Louis saw that a quarrel between the dukes would be injurious and possibly fatal to Charles, who, all unaware of the pitfall prepared for him, readily fell in with the proposals of Sigmund. He was anxious to join together Alsace, Breisgau, the Aargau towns on the Rhine, &c., and advanced fifty thousand florins as mortgage on the dominions of Sigmund, expecting they would soon fall to him entirely. By the treaty of St Omer, in 1469, their mutual terms of agreement were thus fixed:--Charles to give help in case of need against the Swiss, and Sigmund to promote the long-planned marriage between the son of his cousin and Maria of Burgundy. Rejoicing at this turn of fortune, the emperor at once disannulled the treaty of Waldshut, and the new lands were by Charles the Bold entrusted to the management of his favourite, Peter von Hagenbach.[40] A tyrant and a libertine, his acts of violence, and those of his foreign soldiery, exasperated the German populations of Alsace, Basel, Bern, and Solothurn. Their merchants being robbed on the Rhine, their envoys imprisoned--one Bernese man was killed in a fray--they complained to the duke, but without result for the cruelties and oppression continued.