one thing in this event that did not please Louis
XI.,--that Charles had left the field alive. He sent him advice, indeed,
to let those poor folks but hard fighters of the Alps alone, well
convinced that the fiery duke would not take his counsel. In truth,
Charles, mad with rage, ordered that all the soldiers who had fled from
the field should be put to death, and that the new recruits to be raised
should be dealt with in the same manner if they did not march to his
camp with all haste. It cannot be said that this insane command was
obeyed, but so intense was his energy, and so fierce his rage against
the Swiss, that in no great time he had a fresh army, of from
twenty-five to thirty thousand men, composed of Burgundians, Flemings,
Italians, and English.

Late in May he was again on the march,--with much less parade and
display than before,--and on the 10th of June pitched his camp before
the little town of Morat, six leagues from Berne.

Everywhere as he went he left word that it was war to the death on which
he was bent. His pride had been bitterly wounded. He vowed to heal it in
the blood of his foes.

The Swiss were preparing with all haste, and advancing to Berne. The
governor of Morat sent them word to be at ease concerning him. "I will
defend Morat," he said, and to garrison and people he swore that he
would hang the first who spoke of surrender. For ten days he had held
out against Charles's whole army, while his countrymen were gathering.

The men of Zurich were the last to reach Berne. On the 21st of June, in
the evening, the Swiss encamped near their foes.

"Have those hounds lost heart, pray?" the duke had just said; "I was
told that we were about to get at them."

His wish was to be gratified in a way he had not meant; they were about
to get at him. The next day, June 22, opened with a pelting rain.
Later, the sun burst through the clouds. With its first beams the Swiss
were in motion, marching on the camp of their foes.

A man-at-arms hurried to the duke's tent, and told him that the Swiss
were coming, and that they had attacked the lines. He declared the story
was a lie, and drove the messenger with an insulting reproof from his
tent. What, these base peasants? To attack his army? The thing was
incredible! For all that, he left the tent and hurried to the point
indicated. It was true, they had attacked, and were already driving back
his men.

Charles rallied them as he best could. The battle was