Grandson, Morat, and Nancy stamped the Eidgenossen as the enfants gÂtÉs of Europe, and as a nation of the highest military standing on the Continent, nay, even as an umpire in continental politics, and a guardian of the peace. Everybody lavished flattering praises on the prowess of the Swiss. Nation after nation made overtures to them—France foremost, Italy, the Pontiff, the Emperor, distant Hungary, and even England, this last desirous of breaking the French alliance. The meetings of the Federal Diet often became brilliant congresses, lasting for weeks, where princes and ambassadors vied with each other in bestowing bounties and favours on the Swiss leaders, in order to secure their aid, deeming themselves invincible if the Swiss fought on their side. The period 1476-1512—from Morat to Marignano—a noble victory and a scarcely less noble defeat, adds another glorious page to the military history of the Swiss League, but the revers de la medaille shows bitter contention and moral decline. In truth, the Burgundian wars closed a glorious epoch, but brought about a baleful change in the face of more noble warfare, for Nancy is linked with that period of mercenary service and foreign pay which became the curse of Switzerland, and which could not be checked even by the grand efforts of the Reformation period.

Leaving the foreign wars for the moment let us cast a glance at home matters. It is not necessary to dwell at length on the excesses indulged in by the disbanded soldiers, unoccupied and unaccustomed to regular labour after the Burgundian wars. These things nearly always result from long-continued struggles.

More serious danger threatened the League, through the cropping up again of the old antagonism between the country commonwealths and the city states. Disputes arose concerning the distribution of the Burgundian conquests, and the admission of Freiburg and Solothurn, which had solicited the favour, into the federal fold. In the fifteenth century the balance of political power was gradually inclining towards the cities. Zurich, Bern, and Lucerne, had far outstripped the "LÄnder" in population, wealth, influence, and culture, and in 1481 their forces amounted to 35,000 as against the 15,500 of the other five cantons. They advocated the division of the spoil in proportion to their soldiery, and the reception of their two helpmates in the previous wars by way of reward. But the three Forest States, presuming on their prestige as the primary stock and foundation of the league, and anxious to maintain their position, resisted measures that would throw the weight of power entirely on the opposite side. Their narrow and selfish views and their obstinacy placed the Confederation in jeopardy. Meetings, held to settle differences, only deepened the bitterness. A final Diet was fixed for the 18th of December, 1481, at Stanz (Unterwalden), and the foremost men met to arrange, if possible, a compromise. But high words were exchanged, and when the excitement had reached its height, the pastor of that place, Im Grund, stole away, and proceeded at dead of night to the cave Zum Ranft, in a wilderness near Sachseln. Here he took counsel with Nicholas von der FlÜe, the famous hermit, who had dwelt there for the space of twenty years. Mild words and deep thoughts proceeded from the good man, whose love for his country had always been of the strongest. In his earlier days he had served as a soldier and a magistrate, had married, and had had several children born to him. But always given to meditation, he was at the age of fifty-one suddenly filled with religious enthusiasm, and, unable to appease his yearning soul, took leave of his family, and retired into deep seclusion. His commune built him a cell and chapel—still to be seen near Sachseln—on a rock called die FlÜe, hence his name. A few planks formed his bed, and his pillow was a log of wood. Stores he needed not, for he lived on roots and wild berries, and the saying went abroad amongst the country folk that he was sustained by the bread of the holy sacrament alone, and ate no other food. The peasants regarded his person with wonder and awe, and though he was seen at times worshipping at Einsiedeln, no man ever saw him on his way to or from that place. The fame of his wisdom spread beyond the boundaries of his own land, and many were the high personages who came to consult his oracle—from all parts of the empire and Italy, envoys from Sigmund and Frederick. But into subtle discussions he never entered, leaving them rather to his priests. "Pure water does not flow through golden pipes, but through pipes of lead," he used to say to those who complained of the dissolute and degenerate lives of the clergy. To this man, then, the good pastor unburdened his mind, and from him received solace and wise words. Then he toiled back to Stanz, December 22nd. Finding the Diet broken up, and the envoys on the point of leaving for their respective homes, he ran to the various hostelries, and with tearful eyes begged the men to return once more. All opposition melted at the name of Bruder Klaus, the envoys reassembled, and listened with thrilled hearts to the profound truths uttered by him. Their jars and differences were settled within the hour, and Freiburg and Solothurn were unanimously admitted into the league. Blessing the memory of the "Peacemaker," the delegates returned home, and the glad tidings of the establishment of concord were everywhere celebrated by the ringing of bells.

Another feature of this memorable day was the signing of the Covenant of Stanz, a series of measures prepared beforehand, but in which Nicholas had no hand. They were levelled chiefly against the excesses and tumultuous risings that were continually taking place in the country cantons, their object being to re-establish order and prevent a repetition of the insubordination, and to set bounds to "the too much freedom in the LÄnder." Despite the resistance of Schwyz the agreement was ratified, and gradually became part and parcel of the judicial enactments of the Confederation. Breathing as they do the vigorous spirit of Hans Waldmann, the most influential Swiss statesman of his time, these measures were, though wrongly, attributed to him.

This Waldmann is indeed the most conspicuous figure in Switzerland in the fifteenth century, and forms a singular contrast to the humble recluse Zum Ranft, for he shared in all the vicissitudes of his times. Full of vital energy, teeming with lofty schemes, his life is a bright picture, darkened however, here and there, by deep shadows thrown by that stirring, luxurious, fast-living epoch, an epoch itself coloured by the Burgundian wars. The career of this remarkable man is a piece of moral, social, and political history, quite worthy of a few moments' notice.

A poor peasant boy Waldmann had raised himself to the highest position in the country, that of Burgomaster of Zurich, and head, or king, as he pleased to call it, of the Eidgenossen. The mobile and passionate Zurcher, more than any other members of the league, lend themselves to infatuations, and never do things by halves, whether for good or for evil, to-day hurl down their idol of yesterday, and hand him over to the executioner, so it has been said. A strange career was that of Waldmann. Born in the canton of Zug, about 1436, he wandered in early youth to Zurich to seek his fortune, and at the age of sixteen bought the citizenship there. Apprenticed in various callings he turned at length to the iron trade, but his restless mind being unalterably bent on the battlefield he enlisted as a soldier at the first beat of the drums, and plunged into the impending struggles as captain of the Zurich men, and condottiÈre of German princes. In the intervals of peace he turned again to business, giving himself up at the same time to the pleasures of the town. Young, fiery, handsome, with an intelligent face and winsome manners, he fascinated the women, whilst his eloquence and joviality made him a general favourite with the men, and especially with the masses. Many stories were current as to his adventurous life, and the excesses in which he indulged in company with other young men of the town caused him to be lodged in the Wellenberg, a state prison built in the lake. Yet in that age of dissoluteness such failings did not detract from his personal charm and credit. He married a gay and handsome young widow of good family, and called himself the squire of DÜbelstein, from the manor he acquired. This union raised his position in society, and with the help of the Constafel, the body of aristocracy with which he became connected, he hoped to get a position in the Government. But the Junker, or young nobles, treated with disdain the pretensions of a man who had once been a tanner, and accordingly he turned his attention to the craftsmen and guilds, and was returned as councillor by them in 1473. Beneath his exuberant spirits and brawling temper lay the superior gifts of the general and the politician, gifts which the Burgundian wars were to exhibit to the world. From first to last he shared in the campaigns. At Morat we have seen him knighted, and leading the principal charge against Charles the Bold; the recovery of Nancy was chiefly his doing, for he it was who advocated the continuation of the war and the appeal to arms by RenÉ of Lorraine, at the Federal Diet. At the council-board and in the federal assemblies he rose to eminence by his political and diplomatic talents, and showed himself to be an astute ambassador. Sent to the French Court to negotiate with Louis XI. respecting Franche ComtÉ, he lent himself to French influences, for his moral principles were by no means equal to his intellectual gifts. He became a pensioner of that same king, who was thus the first to corrupt the Swiss leaders with his gold. In his own city of Zurich, Waldmann filled a series of public offices; as edile he built the fine Wasserkirche, the Pantheon for war trophies, &c. In 1480 we find him occupying a high position as tribune, and head of the guilds, and, three years later, he was chosen Burgomaster. To obtain this last position, however, he had ousted the powerful Chevalier Goldein. He ruled Zurich as a veritable sovereign, head of the republic, and swayed also the foreign policy of the Federation. He dictated terms of peace; to him foreign princes applied for alliance or troops; and on him they showered their favours. He was made Hofrath of Milan, and, becoming a pensioner of Austria, began to lean more towards that country than to France, and rightly so, perhaps. Waldmann rapidly became, in fact, the most influential statesman, and, notwithstanding his extravagant habits, and boundless generosity, the wealthiest of the Eidgenossen. Thanks to his great ascendency Zurich was restored to that pre-eminence in the state which she had forfeited in the civil strife, and which Bern had gained in the time of the Burgundian troubles.

Ambitious, and readily bribed, Waldmann still professed lofty views in his home policy and in his administration, and these views he proposed to put into practice by the help of a political club he had founded. This club he placed under the care of twelve influential citizens, who followed his guidance. There was, in truth, a singular charm about his person, and his intellectual gifts commanded the admiration of his whole circle. He intended making some sweeping reforms that were to change the face of the Zurich republic. And he addressed himself first to the nobility, of whom he was no friend.

Hitherto the aristocracy and the craftsmen had been equally represented in the government (Kleiner Rath, see Zurich), each having twelve seats (one having dropped away). Waldmann, however, did away with half that number, and supplied their places by men from the ZÜnfte, or Guilds, who were almost to a man on his side. This not only strengthened his power as dictator, but increased the importance of the democracy generally, whilst it lessened that of the nobility. Nor did he spare the clergy. In 1486 he issued a series of orders against abuses, and compelled Innocent VIII. to give his sanction to them. Waldmann would at times good-humouredly style himself pope and emperor at Zurich. In one of his writs he laments the evil consequences of the Burgundian wars, and of the Reislaufen, mercenary service. Foreign influence was indeed spreading fast; the rich contracted expensive foreign tastes, French and Spanish dress became fashionable, public amusements increased in number, and magnificent family feasts—weddings, baptisms, and the like—grew general among the people of Zurich. Waldmann began to take steps to regulate these extravagant tastes, although he himself did not practise what he preached—going so far as to fix the number of guests to be invited, and the cost of the presents to be given. Public amusements were checked or suppressed, even when of an altogether innocent character. Reding of Schwyz advocated Reislaufen in full.

The indefatigable Waldmann extended his writs and orders to the country districts, and, anticipating the views of the sixteenth century, strove for the centralization of power. This was with the hope of strengthening his government, and bringing the detached portions of the country under one general code of laws. For each village had so far its own distinct judicature. Regensberg, for instance, jealously maintained its curious right of indulging in ear-boxing at the cost of five shillings in each case, whereas the same doubtful amusement cost elsewhere double and treble the money. The city Waldmann considered to be the head of the republic, whilst the country parts he looked upon as the less honourable or subject portion of the body politic. The trade and manufacturing industry he monopolized for the town, limiting the country districts to agriculture and the cultivation of the vine. Numberless were the measures of improvement which the bold reformer showered on his country, but many of them were inadvisedly introduced, and the severity with which he carried out his plans alienated all classes, and none more than the nobles. Consequently a conspiracy was formed by the Junker (the GÖldli, the Escher, the Meyer von Knonau, &c.), against the Burgomaster, whose manifest opulence gave the lie to his affectation of republican simplicity. But blinded by the flatteries of the crowd and by his own power Waldmann did not see the storm which was rising fast.

The ill-advised execution of Theiling of Lucerne, the hero of Giornio, by the orders of Waldmann, whom and whose banner he had insulted in that campaign, turned the tide of popular favour against the ruler of Zurich, although Lucerne, overawed by the powerful Burgomaster did not dare to accuse him. But a more absurd if less iniquitous order was issued by him, and at length caused the tempest to burst forth against him. He seems however to have been urged on by his enemies, who wished to hasten his ruin, and he issued the order most reluctantly. It was to the effect that the country folk were to kill all their large dogs, his plea being that the animals did injury to the vineyards and hunting grounds. The consternation was as great as if Charles the Bold had once more come to life. Some obeyed, but at Knonau five hundred peasants met, and resisted the messengers who had been sent to effect the slaughter. With this example the whole district rose in arms, and, marching on Zurich, demanded admittance, March 4, 1489. It would occupy too much space to give the story of this outbreak; it was stopped for a time, but broke out again on April 1st. Waldmann bent on amusement had actually returned to Baden, a gay watering-place near Zurich, and the rendezvous of the grand-monde of various nations, but he at once rode back to the town with his troop of horses, hoping to check the revolt by his personal influence. But the majority was too strong for him, and surrendering, he was with his adherents rowed off to the Wellenberg tower, where he was placed on the rack, however without anything worthy of death being discovered. Meanwhile the burgesses held a town's meeting in the Wasserkirche; passed sentence of death on him, and hurriedly instituted a government to confirm the verdict. In his last hours Waldmann revealed his nobleness of soul; no bitter accusation against his enemies ever passed his lips; and he never lost heart, for he knew within himself that he had ever aimed at promoting the greatness of the town, and at that only. Had he appealed to the crowds he might have been saved, but he had promised to his confessor that he would make no such appeal, and on his way to the block he merely begged the thousands who had flocked to the bloody spectacle to forgive him and pray with him. The people were moved to tears, but just then a false alarm was spread that an Austrian army was coming to his rescue. This hurried on his doom. He was executed in a meadow on an eminence outside the walls, so that the armed men might be kept out of the town, April 6, 1489. "May God protect thee, my beloved Zurich, and keep thee from all evil!" were the last words of the dying man, as he turned his eyes towards his loved city for a moment before the fatal blow fell. The new government, called the "Horned Council," on account of its incapacity, was for a while unable to stop the revolts, and more executions followed. The "Compromise of Waldmann" (Waldmann's Spruch) secured to the city the supremacy over the country districts, whilst it restored to the city itself its old liberties. To ask to be represented on the council had as yet not entered the mind of the country folk. It may perhaps be added that the question is frequently being ventilated in Zurich whether or no a monument shall be erected to Waldmann's memory. Opinion is divided on the subject.