The duke raised an army ‘this side the mountains (that is, in Savoy) as secretly as he could.’ Then fearing lest the Friburgers, if they were warned, should hasten to the support of the city, and wishing ‘to catch the fish without wetting his paws,’ he sent M. de Lambert into Switzerland to amuse the cantons with fine speeches. While the ambassador was thus occupying the attention of Messieurs de Friburg, the Savoyard nobles hastily summoned their vassals to arms. The duke placed his forces under the command of the Sieur de Montrotier, Bonivard’s cousin and an excellent captain. The latter marched off his troops during the night and assembled them in silence round Geneva; so that the duke reached St. Jullien, a league from the city, with seven thousand soldiers, before anything was known of his enterprise. The Savoyards had never done so well before. In a short time the people of the neighbourhood, hurrying in crowds to his standard, raised the ducal army to ten thousand men.[212] Then the duke no longer concealed his intentions. He kept his court at St. Jullien, and there gathered round the prince an ever-increasing number of nobles in rich dresses and splendid armour; and especially of young gentlemen brimful of insolence, who longed to make a campaign against the noisy shopkeepers. Never before had this little town witnessed so much display, or heard so many boasts. ‘We must put them down with our riding-whips,’ said some. No sooner said than done. On the 15th of March, 1519, fifteen of these cavaliers started from St. Jullien to carry out their plan of campaign; they arrived in Geneva, proceeded straight to the hôtel-de-ville, leaving their horses with their servants in the street, and with a swaggering air entered the council-room, all booted and splashed with mud. Not waiting to be offered chairs, they rudely sat down, and without any preface said: ‘My lord, desiring to enter this city, orders you to lay down your arms and to open the gates.’ The Genevan senators, seated in their curule chairs, looked with astonishment at this singular embassy; they restrained themselves, however, and replied at once firmly and moderately that the duke would be welcome at Geneva provided he came with his ordinary retinue, and only to enjoy himself as he had often done before. ‘In that case,’ added the syndics, ‘the arms we carry will be used only to guard him.’ This seemed to imply that another use might be made of them; and accordingly the gentlemen answered haughtily: ‘My lord will enter your city with whom he pleases and do in it as he pleases.’--‘Then,’ answered the syndics bluntly, ‘we will not let him enter.’ At these words the fifteen cavaliers rose up like one man: ‘We will enter in spite of your teeth,’ they said, ‘and we will do in your city whatever we please.’ Then striding noisily across the flagstones with their spurred boots, they left the hall, remounted their horses, and galloped off along the St. Jullien road.[213]