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.

Artful and ever on the watch, Louis found that the Eidgenossen, disgusted by the grasping tendencies of Charles, were fast drifting away from their good understanding with Burgundy, and strove to draw them to his own side. Anxious to secure a friend, the Swiss lent willing ears to the flattery and insinuations of the crafty Louis. He actually succeeded in effecting a reconciliation between the Eidgenossen and Austria. It was a cleverly calculated bit of diplomacy, that secured for the Swiss their recent conquests, isolated Charles, and strengthened the opposition against him. Louis fixed a pension on Sigmund, and urged him to pay off the mortgage on his lands, whilst the Alsacian towns likewise leagued themselves with the Swiss, and actually advanced Sigmund the sum of money required. Charles, however, disappointed in his plans, refused to receive the money. A popular rising took place at Breisach, and Hagenbach was seized, imprisoned, and brought before a tribunal, at which some of the Eidgenossen assisted. He was condemned to death, and publicly beheaded, as a sort of popular judgment. Enraged beyond measure though he was, yet Charles deferred vengeance for the death of his favourite, being, indeed, at the time, otherwise engaged. Taking advantage of this delay, Louis won over to his side Frederick, also lavishing flatteries on the Swiss, and pensions on Nicolas von Diesbach and his followers. This Nicolas was a Bernese nobleman and a skilled politician, and was a fit instrument in the hands of a king who calculated his schemes rather on men's mauvaises passions than on their virtues. Louis hastened on the outbreak of war, and on October 9, 1474, Frederick called on the Eidgenossen to take their part in the attack on Charles. They hesitated, but the pensioner and creature of France, Diesbach, notwithstanding the resistance offered by Adrian von Bubenberg, a Bernese noble of far loftier character, in hot haste declared war against Charles in the name of the empire, and with the consent of the Confederation. But war once actually afoot the Swiss were made a mere catspaw by their partners, and left to their own devices.

In a short story like this it is impossible to discuss the merits or demerits of the various factions, or those of Hagenbach or Diesbach,[41] yet we must dwell for a moment on the federal policy, and more especially on that of Bern. The position of the Swiss League at the outbreak of the war was very similar to that of "Sweden, under Gustavus Adolphus, in the Thirty Years' War." Threatened by the preponderating power of Austria, she would not take up arms till France, equally interested in the downfall of Habsburg, under Richelieu, drove her to war by sending subsidies. But French gold was by no means the actual and moving cause of the war. Many things concurred to give rise to it, not the least being Bern's extraordinary bent for aggrandisement and conquest. Her aggressiveness and her far-sightedness were quite remarkable for that age, and her policy was conceived on so large a scale that she has been not inaptly compared to ancient Rome. Bordering on Swiss Burgundy, Bern had strong western leanings, if one may so speak, and very early set her eyes on Vaud and Geneva. She considered Mount Jura as the true western boundary, for French Switzerland still lay without the pale of the Confederation, and belonged for the most part to Savoy, or the vassals of Savoy. However selfish the policy of Bern may appear at this distance of time, yet she has the unquestionable merit of having brought Swiss Burgundy into the federation, thus connecting the French with the German portions of Helvetia. The political views of Bern are clearly evidenced by her foreign relations at the time. Her nobility sent their sons to foreign courts to be educated and trained for a military or a diplomatic career—Bubenberg, for instance, spent his youth at the Court of Burgundy. Her leading men were well-trained military officers or skilled politicians, and the aristocracy which formed the governing body of the town clung obstinately to the prerogatives still left them in those moribund Middle Ages.

The country cantons were less interested in Burgundian troubles, well knowing that Bern would take the lion's share of any conquests. Bern and Zurich were rivals, and, like Athens and Sparta of old, followed each its separate ends. Yet when the safety of either, or that of the fatherland, was at stake, private aims and private animosities were dropped, and the Confederates rallied to the common standard, displaying that wonderful heroism which strong love of fatherland seems ever to inspire.

The first event of the war was the siege of HÉricourt, near Belfort, at the bidding of Frederick III. This was in November, 1474, and there followed wasteful inroads into Vaud, by Bern, Freiburg, and Solothurn, on the pretext of punishing Savoy for siding with Charles (1475). Place after place fell to the victors, and with the help of Bern, Lower Valais was wrenched from Savoy, and restored to Upper Valais. But when once the Swiss were fairly launched on the war all their partners withdrew from the stage, and made their peace with Charles. The Burgundian prince thus having his hands more free pushed on alone his expedition against Duke RenÉ, the minstrel poet of Lorraine, in November, 1475. In the January of the following year he opened his campaign against the Swiss.

With an enormous army of fifty thousand of the best-trained soldiers in Europe, besides heavy artillery, he started in high spirits across the Jura, resolved on crushing the Swiss peasants, and levelling Bern with the ground. Count Romont was sent on in advance, with instructions to re-conquer Vaud. This he effected within a fortnight, the district being inefficiently garrisoned. Charles then marched on Grandson, whither the main Bernese force had retired. The odds were desperate, five hundred men against so vast an army, and, after a resistance of ten days, the garrison was allured into a surrender by vain promises of safety, and by impudent forgeries. The fate of Dinant (Belgium) awaited the body of 412 men who surrendered. They were bound with ropes and drowned in the lake, or hanged from the trees lining the roads (February 28, 1476). In great straits Bern summoned the assistance of the other cantons, and, on March 2nd, the federal army of eighteen thousand horse and foot, well trained and equipped, assembled at NeuchÂtel, and Charles went to meet this force. A large division of the Swiss having gone on in front suddenly noticed from the vineyard slopes the Burgundian troops in the plain beneath. As was their wont in warfare—they were very religious, almost superstitiously so, at that time—the Swiss knelt down, and extended their hands in prayer. To the enemy it seemed as if they were begging for mercy, and Charles exclaimed, "These cowards are ours!" and ordered his men to fire. His artillery swept down whole files, but, though their ranks were broken, the Swiss stoutly held their ground against the oncoming foe. Suddenly Charles ordered his forces to fall back, with the double intention of getting more room, and of alluring his foe into descending from the higher ground. But his men unapprised of their leader's intentions mistook the movement for an actual flight, and their ranks began to show signs of falling into disorder. At this most critical moment the chief body of the Swiss appeared on the heights, their armour glittering in the sun. The deafening noise of their war-cries and war-horns (Uristier of Uri, HarsthÖrner of Lucerne) "struck such terror into the Burgundians," reports an old chronicler of NeuchÂtel, "that they took to their heels, and disappeared from sight, as if a whirlwind had swept them from the earth." Not far, however, did the Eidgenossen pursue, for, "with indescribable joy," they dropped on their knees to render thanks for the great victory. When they neared the camp of Charles the terrible sight they saw stirred up still more their desire for revenge. Their brethren were still suspended by dozens from the trees by the wayside.

The battle of Grandson is remarkable for the immense quantity of spoil that fell to the victors. For Charles and his nobles were wont to carry the splendour of their court even into their camps. Four hundred silk tents came into the hands of the Swiss, as well as the arras carpets, and Charles's sets of gold plate and dishes, the admiration of the sovereigns of the time. His Flemish lace and fine linen were cut up like homespun, and divided amongst the rough soldiers; his money dealt out in helmets; his artillery, his beautiful swords and hand-guns; and, most precious of all, his jewellery, were shared amongst the victorious Swiss. Of his three famous diamonds the finest passed finally to Pope Julius II., another to Henry VIII., of England, and thence to Philip of Spain, and the third to the kings of Portugal. It would require pages to give even a bare list of the spoils.[42]

Despite this great disaster, Charles did not lose heart, and within a fortnight began to reassemble his scattered forces. His movements were closely watched by the Bernese, who strongly fortified Morat, their strongest outpost, sending Adrian von Bubenberg with fifteen hundred men to hold it against the duke. On the 9th of June, 1476, Charles appeared before the town with twenty-five thousand men, and his artillery soon made terrible havoc amongst the weak fortifications. Von Bubenberg, however, vowed that he would not surrender so long as a drop of living blood remained in his veins. The Eidgenossen forces, which had returned home after the last engagement, did not reach Morat till the 21st of June, but determined to give battle on the 22nd, that day being the anniversary of the ever-memorable Laupen. Charles had drawn up his troops on the plateaux of Munchwiler, Courlevon, and Cressier, opposite Morat, and had strengthened his front with a ditch and a barricade of trees, having also lined the hedges with his artillery, and flanked it with his horse. It was raining in torrents; to weary the foe the Swiss spent the morning in dubbing knights; Duke RenÉ of Lorraine, who had joined the Swiss ranks as simple spearman, and Hans Waldmann having that honour bestowed upon them. Towards noon the sun unexpectedly broke forth, and Hans von Hallwyl, a Bernese nobleman, brandishing his sword, exclaimed, "Onward! brave men. God lights up our path. Do not leave your wives and children to the stranger!" Leading his van in a wide circle to avoid the hedge he fell on the right wing of Charles. Seeing him thus engaged Hans Waldmann of Zurich, with his ten thousand troops occupying a central position in the field, marched up, sprang on the intrenchment, and trampled down the hedge. Carrying their guns across their shoulders, they rushed on the artillery, who were keeping up a deadly fire, and, thrusting back the enemy, soon silenced their guns. Then the Swiss force advanced in a close phalanx to the hostile centre, where stood Charles with the Prince of Orange, and other distinguished officers, and where, too, were placed the English archers under Somerset. A murderous engagement ensued, Charles fought like a lion, and soon fifteen hundred nobles lay at his feet. Suddenly Bubenberg sallied forth with his force, and attacked the Burgundian left wing, stationed between Munchwiler and Morat, whilst Hertenstein of Lucerne attacked Charles's centre in the rear. A terrible panic seized Charles, and his army became suddenly disorganized, and fled in wild haste, the Swiss closely following in pursuit. For the whole distance from Morat to Avenches there were terrible hand-to-hand conflicts, for the Burgundians resisted stoutly, and the Swiss gave no quarter. Countless numbers were driven into the lake, and altogether twelve thousand of the foe fell that day, the Swiss themselves losing three thousand men. Charles escaped with a few horsemen to Morges, but quite dazed with despair, and the Eidgenossen turned homewards laden with rich spoils. All over the country the bells were set ringing to welcome the heroic men who had saved Switzerland from becoming a subject-province of Burgundy. The great battle of Murten, a purely defensive engagement so far as the Swiss were concerned, still exerts on them the same spell as Morgarten and Sempach.

Luckless Duke Charles had shut himself up in his castle near Pontarlier, a prey to a morbid despair, but hearing that RenÉ was reconquering Lorraine, he was spurred into taking up arms once more, and started for Nancy with a new force. RenÉ went back to Switzerland, and even with tears implored the Federal Diet to help him. The Diet would not themselves organize a new army, but permitted men to enlist of their own will under RenÉ's banner. Some eight thousand soldiers enlisted, and, under Hans Waldmann, retook Nancy, on January 15, 1477. The fate of the unhappy Charles is well known; his corpse was found in a bog embedded in ice and snow. A popular rhyme thus characterizes Charles's triple misfortune:—

The acquisition of the victors were in no way adequate to the labour expended. Franche ComtÉ, to which the Eidgenossen had a title, and which the cities wished to annex, was sold to Louis for a sum of money, which he never paid, however. The Swiss merely retained the protectorate over the province, whose envoys had begged on their knees that they might be admitted to the Swiss Federation, to prevent their falling into the hands of France or Austria, a fate which was, however, to be theirs. Grandson Murten, Bex, &c., remained with Bern and Freiburg, but the greater part of Vaud fell back to Savoy, for a ransom of fifty thousand florins. Geneva had to pay half that sum as a war contribution; yet the way was paved for the annexation of Vaud. Freiburg and Low-Valais were entirely rescued from the grasp of Savoy.