About a quarter of a mile from Naumburg our grown companions again remained behind in the village; for when they would eat together, they sent us on. There were five of us; in a broad field eight horsemen with drawn cross-bows came to meet us; they rode around us, demanded money from us, and turned their arrows on us; for at that time people did not yet carry guns on horses. One said: “Give us money!” One of us, the largest, answered: “We have no money; we are poor students.” Then he said the second time: “Give us money!” Then our companion answered again: “We have no money, and we owe you nothing!” Then the horseman drew his sword, raised it, so that it whizzed close by his head, and cut the straps of his knapsack in two. Our companion was called John of Scalene from St. Gall, from the village. They rode thereafter into the woods, but we went on to Naumburg. Soon came the Bacchants, who had seen the knaves nowhere. We were often thus in danger on account of robbers and murderers – in the Thuringian forest, in Franconia, and in Poland.
We remained some weeks in Naumburg. Those of us shooters who could sing went into the city to sing, but I went begging. But we did not go to school. The others would not allow this and threatened to drag us to the school. The schoolmaster also warned our Bacchants that they should come to school, or they would be compelled. But Antony dared them to come. And because some other Swiss were also there, they let us know what day the authorities would come, so that they would not unexpectedly attack us. Then we little shooters carried stones on the roof. But Antony and the others garrisoned the door. Then the schoolmaster came with the whole procession of his shooters and Bacchants. But we boys threw stones down upon them, so that they had to give way. When now we understood that we were accused before the magistrate, we had a neighbour who wished to marry his daughter. He had a stable full of fat geese. One night we took three geese from him and withdrew to another part of the city; it was a suburb, but near the city wall, just like the place where we had been till this time. Then the Swiss came to us, drank with one another, and then our company withdrew to Halle, in Saxony, and went to the school at St. Ulrich. But when our Bacchants behaved rudely towards us, some of us, with my cousin Paul, resolved to run away from the Bacchants and go to Dresden. But there was no good school there, and the dwellings were full of vermin, so that we heard them crawling around in the straw at night. We broke up and went to Breslau. We suffered much hunger on the way, in that for several days we ate only raw onions, with salt; some days roasted acorns, crab-apples, and pears. Many a night we lay under the open sky, for no one would allow us in the house, however pleasantly we asked for shelter; sometimes they set the dogs on us.
When, however, we came to Breslau, in Silesia, there was great abundance; yes, everything was so cheap, that the poor students overate, and often made themselves sick. At first we went to the school in the Cathedral of the Holy Cross. But when we heard that in the principal parish of St. Elizabeth there were several Swiss, we went there. There were two from Bremgarten there, two from Mellingen, and others, besides many Swabians. There was no difference between the Swabians and the Swiss; they spoke to one another as countrymen, and protected each other. The city of Breslau had seven parishes, and each had a separate school. No student dared to go into another parish to sing, else they cried: “Ad idem! ad idem!” Then the shooters ran together and beat one another very severely. Once in the city there were, so it was said, several thousand Bacchants and shooters, who supported themselves wholly by alms. It was also said that some had been there twenty or thirty years, or longer, with their shooters, who had to wait upon them. Often, in the course of a single evening, I carried five or six loads of provisions back to the school where my Bacchants lived. People gave to me very willingly, because I was so small and I was Swiss – for the Swiss were much liked. People at that time also had a great compassion for the Swiss, for they had suffered severely in the great battle of Milan. So the common people said now the Swiss have lost their best pater-noster. For they thought that, before this, the Swiss were quite unconquerable.
One day I went up to two gentlemen, or country squires, in the market-place. I heard afterwards that the one was called Benzenaur, the other Fugger. They walked together. I asked alms of them, as was the custom there with poor students. The Fugger spoke to me: “From whence are you?” And when he heard that I was a Swiss, he conversed with the Benzenaur, and thereupon said to me: “Are you really a Swiss? Then I will adopt you as a son. I will promise you that here, before the council, in Breslau; but in turn you must bind yourself to me for your entire life, and where I am, you will be expected as well.” I said, “I have been given into the charge of one from my home; I will speak to him about it.” But when I asked my cousin Paul about it, he said: “I have taken you away from your home; I will take you back to your friends again; and then whatever they bid you, that you can do.” I therefore refused the gentleman. But whenever I came before his house, I was not permitted to go away empty.
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