uis wonder. Charles also wondered, and cursed the
stupidity of the Bishop of Cambrai, who had so "encumbered his letter
with senseless courtesy as to distort its meaning."

Charles despatched letters to Peronne and Ghent, ordering immediate
preparations for the marriage. As usual, poor Mary was not considered of
sufficient importance to receive notice of the event that concerned her
so vitally. Others would prepare her, as one might fatten a lamb for
slaughter. The lamb need not be consulted or even informed; the day of
its fate would be sufficient for it. I was in despair. Max, in his
ignorance, was indifferent.

After a short delay, the duke gathered his wrath and his army and laid
siege to the town of Morat, announcing his intention to give no quarter,
but to kill all, old and young, men, women, and children. The Swiss were
prepared for us. "The energy of pride was going to be pitted against the
energy of patriotism." Again disaster fell upon Charles. Thousands of
his army were slain, and thousands fled in hopeless rout. His soldiers
had never wanted to fight, and one man defending his hearth is stronger
than half a score attacking it.

The loss of this battle drove Charles back to Burgundy. With a few of
his train, including Max and myself, he retired to the Castle of La
Riviera. Here he learned that Rene, Duke of Lorraine, had mustered his
forces and had laid siege to Nancy, which city Charles had taken from
Duke Rene, some years before, and had garrisoned with Burgundians and
English. Upon hearing this unwelcome news, Charles began the arduous
task of collecting another army. He was compelled to leave the
neighborhood of Switzerland and fly to the rescue of Nancy.

The first of January found us before Nancy, but our arrival was three
days too late. The city had capitulated to Duke Rene. On the fifth of
January a battle was fought before Nancy, but Fortune had turned her
back for all and all on this cruel Duke of Burgundy and Count of
Charolois. The disasters at Granson and Morat were repeated. At
nightfall Charles could not be found. I supposed that he had escaped,
but the next morning his body was found by a washerwoman, frozen in the
ice of a pond. He had been killed through the machinations of
Campo-Basso. Duke Rene magnanimously gave Charles regal burial, and
dismissed his followers without ransom. You may be sure I was eager to
return to Peronne.

Fortune, in turning her back upon Charles, had turned her