The Battle of Morgarten
About ten miles distant from Stans, and high above the glistening Lake
of the Four Forest Cantons, is a somewhat long valley, about three miles
in width, surrounded by huge mountains, among which the Titlis is the
loftiest. A pastoral village occupies the right bank of the Aar,[3]
which furnishes it with fresh spring water. Both the valley and the
village take the name of Engelberg[4] from the Benedictine monastery,
established there in 1120. Its founder was the wealthy and childless
Baron Conrad of Seldenbüren. He gave the valley, which was one of his
possessions, to the monastery, besides endowing it with valuable
property in Zurichgau. “Engelberg” is the equivalent of the Latin name,
“Mons Angelorum,” which Pope Calixtus the Second gave to the monastery.
The entire valley was tributary to the monastery. Every household had to
furnish it a Shrovetide fowl or thirty eggs. When a valley person died,
his heir had to give the monastery the best pair of cattle left by the
deceased, as well as the clothes he last wore to church. Twice a year
the Abbot went to the castle at Zurichgau, belonging to the monastery,
to administer justice. Eight days previous to the journey, those of the
same rank and fief, and belonging to the same order, between the Reuss
and the Rhine, were invited to accompany him. The Abbot, on these
journeys also took his chaplain, a provost, a priest in ordinary, and a
knight with three hounds and a hawk. When the Abbot stopped at a house,
the housewife had to receive him at her door, with a loaf in one hand
and a fowl in the other, the fowl being for the hawk and the loaf for
the hounds. She must also provide a roast, a sufficient number of fowls,
and enough of good Alsatian wine for the dinner of the Abbot and his
company, and if he remained over night, the farm attached to the place
had also to furnish fowl.
Berthold of Winkelried was abbot at the time of our story, and his two
sisters, Adelheid and Elspeth, were in charge of the convent, which was
also located in the valley. As the brother and sisters were near
relatives of Arnold, our hero, he was sent to the famous school of the
Benedictine monastery to acquire his education and to become thoroughly
acquainted with the history of the fatherland, and thereby acquire the
inspiration of its struggles and heroic deeds.
The original sources of this history are lost in the traditions of the
past. The first inhabitants of Switzerland probably were the Rætians.
They were followed by the Helvetians, a Celtic tribe which occupied the
plains, leaving the Rætians only the mountains. Both these tribes were
subjugated by the Romans in the first century of our era, who laid out
the first roads and established settlements. Eastern Switzerland was
assigned to the Rætians, who belonged to Italy, and western to the
Gauls. The name “Helvetia” disappeared in the third century. When the
great migrations occurred, which built up new empires and pulled down
old ones, the fierce Huns first invaded the country. Following them, the
Burgundians conquered the western part, whereupon the Ostrogoths took
possession of the southern and the Alamanni of the northern part. All
these tribes in turn were subjugated by the Franks,[5] who not only
overran the country, but established Frankish advowsons there. Although
the Alpine people were subject to them yet they retained a certain
independence, and Charles the Great granted them many privileges, for
they had rendered him important service in his Italian wars. After the
dissolution of the great Frankish empire the eastern part of Switzerland
was acquired by the Duchy of Swabia and the western by the newly
organized kingdom of Burgundy. Subsequent to this, the German sovereigns
took over the country and permitted the house of Zäringen to administer
it. During the reign of the Emperor Frederick the Second (1215-1250) the
Swiss were subordinate to the Empire and free from the exactions of the
landowners, but after the extinction of the Hohenstaufen dynasty, the
imperial power declined. Ecclesiastics and non-ecclesiastics, counts,
and princes sought to increase their possessions and revenues at the
expense of their neighbors; and the Swiss cities, as well as the country
people, who had previously resisted thraldom, were forced to protect
themselves by making individual alliances with their oppressors. Thus it
happened that Zurich and Uri united with the counts of Hapsburg. Schwyz
made another alliance. When Count Rudolph of Hapsburg[6] was elected to
the imperial throne, 1273, he endeavored to enlarge his possessions.
Several Swiss cities which had been loyal to the Hapsburgs and had
fought so stoutly in Rudolph’s campaigns began to fear for their own
security; but in the last year of Rudolph’s life (1291) the men of
Schwyz, Uri, and Unterwalden met and organized “the Everlasting League,”
under the provisions of which they agreed to protect each other from a
common enemy. They also agreed to recognize no local officials who had
bought their positions or who were strangers in the country. Following
their example, the people of every valley and community made the same
agreement.
What the death of the Emperor Rudolph had prevented him from
accomplishing, Albert, his son and successor, sought to carry out. He
aimed to dominate the country and make its free people his vassals. When
at last his tyranny was too severe for endurance, three men from the
three cantons, Werner Stauffacher of Schwyz, Walter Fürst of Uri, and
Arnold of Melchthal, and thirty more with them, met at the Rütli,[7] and
renewed the League of 1291. Two months after this, the tyrannical
governors were expelled, their brutal rule was ended, and the country
was free.
Duke Albert, thirsting for revenge, sought to destroy the League, but
while striving to accomplish that purpose he was murdered by his nephew,
Duke John of Swabia. The German imperial power was supplanted by that of
the Austrian dukes. Henry, the next emperor, was chosen from the
Luxembourg and Bavarian family. He recognized the League and confirmed
the people in all their rights and privileges, which subjected him to
the ill-will of Albert’s sons and grandsons. After Henry’s death Louis
of Bavaria was elected Emperor over Frederick of Austria. The Forest
Cantons paid allegiance to him because they knew they had nothing good
to expect from Austria. Thereupon Leopold, Frederick’s brother, decided
to retaliate, and nearly all the nobles of Swabia and German Switzerland
joined him.
The events now to be related, which took place in 1315, Arnold learned
from the lips of an aged monk in the Engelberg monastery, who had been a
participant in them. This still vigorous old man, Father Vincentius, was
known throughout the valley as the “one-eyed,” for he had lost his left
eye. He was not a man of great erudition, but having had experience in
the art of healing he knew how to compound medicines for the sick, and
to treat wounds and broken limbs. He was reverenced and loved by the
pastoral folk of the valley, for many of them owed their good health and
their lives to his skill. As he was always ready, by day or by night, in
good or in bad weather, to visit sick-beds, he was looked upon as an
angel of mercy. Father Vincentius had been wild and reckless in his
youth, but in his later years he returned to the Church and consecrated
himself as a Benedictine monk to the service of suffering humanity.
Arnold was very fond of the monk, and his devotion was returned by
Father Vincentius, who occasionally took the lad with him on his visits
to the sick. Upon one of these visits, which took them to the end of the
valley, the monk told him about the war which Leopold waged against the
three cantons.
“In November of the year 1315,” he began, “Leopold assembled a large
force at Zug, composed of the flower of the nobility and his own
horsemen. There were also many foot soldiers from Lucerne, Entlebuch,
Aargau, Oberhasli, Frutigen, and other places in the hill country. His
plan was to have the entire cavalry and part of the infantry make the
main attack upon Schwyz. This force numbered fifteen thousand men, and
the Duke himself was leader. The remaining infantry, six thousand
strong, commanded by the Austrian marshal, Count Otto of Strasburg, was
to invade Unterwalden—one division attacking the Nidwald by land and
water, the other the Obwald,[8] so as to divide and weaken their
opponents as much as possible.
“Two highroads led from Zug to Schwyz, but the Schwyzers were uncertain
which of them the Duke’s army would take. When they found at last that
they were menaced by such an overpowering force they became somewhat
alarmed. They had made tenders of peace to Leopold through Count
Frederick of Toggenburg, who was well disposed toward them, but the
furious Leopold would not consider the offers, so that no alternative
was left them but to defend themselves to the last drop of their blood.
They summoned all their people to arms and fortified the principal
passes and roads of their little country. They thoroughly strengthened
Arth, a post station at the southeast corner of the Lake of Zug, where
it makes a bend, for at that point, as at Lucerne, they might be
attacked by land and water. They constructed strong and well protected
entrenchments, extending from the Rossberg to the Rigi. If the enemy
should break through at any one point the entire defence might be lost,
so particular care was paid to the entrenchments. As there were frequent
skirmishes between the Schwyzers and the Austrians at Saint Adrian, it
was thought the main attack would be made there, and that Leopold’s army
might be expected on the road to Arth. These skirmishes proved to be the
first step toward the subsequent success of the Confederates. Among the
Austrian liegemen from Lucerne and Zug there were many who sympathized
with their neighbors and who were serving in the Duke’s army under
constraint. One of these was Henry of Hünenberg, who had friends and
relatives among the Schwyzers. He determined to give his old friends
some valuable information. A favorable chance offered itself in one of
these encounters. During its progress he rushed up to the entrenchment
and shot an arrow over it, which lodged in a tree. A Schwyzer, noticing
that a paper was wrapped round it, pulled it out. The paper contained
the brief but significant message, ‘Defend yourselves at Morgarten.’
“Now they were sure where the attack would be made. The Duke chose for
his advance that one of the two roads that leads to the rocky ridge
known as the Morgarten, and by way of Stein directly to Schwyz. Every
effort was made to give the enemy a vigorous reception. The Morgarten is
a natural defence of itself. At the upper part of it extends a plain
called the ‘Alte Matte,’ intersected by a mountain ridge. This runs to
the Morgarten and presents an admirable opportunity for attacking an
army approaching through the pass upon the flank, or to cut him off
entirely. In making their plans, they followed the counsels of Rudolf
Reding, who had fought in many of his country’s battles in his younger
life, and now had the valuable experience of seventy years.
“On the evening of November fifteenth their companions from Uri and
Unterwalden arrived in Schwyz. Their numbers all told were thirteen
hundred—six hundred from Schwyz, four hundred from Uri, and three
hundred from Unterwalden. The rest of their men were engaged in holding
important places among the passes. As night came on, the little army
took up its march to Morgarten, determined to conquer, or, like Leonidas
and his Spartans, die for freedom and the fatherland.
“On the following day Duke Leopold left Zug with his fifteen thousand
men early in the morning. After a council with his leaders at the
village church of Ober Ägeri on the way, he decided to make the attack
the next morning. The Confederates in the meantime, following Reding’s
advice, did not remain on the mountain ridge, but crossed the Alte Matte
to Haslern, so that Morgarten was on their right and the little Lake
Ägeri, extending to the southeastern slope of Morgarten, on their left.
“The Confederates suddenly found an unexpected and even unwelcome
reinforcement, though it was but a mere handful of men.”
Father Vincentius paused in his story, apparently absorbed in a reverie,
which his little auditor did not venture to disturb though he longed to
know how the impending battle came out. The old man muttered a few
inaudible words to himself and nodded his head twice. At last he
resumed:
“You must know, my son, that the government of the Confederates was
severe in its administration of law and authority. Whoever disobeyed the
law or disturbed the public peace in any way was severely punished. It
is so now, and it has always been so. There were some young, hot-headed
fellows who thought it was their mission to reform the world, and as one
alone could not do it, they formed societies for that purpose, which
became dangerous political parties to the State and the community. Such
fellows as these were always expelled from the country. Just about the
time of which I am talking a number of young men had suffered this
penalty for violation of the law; but when they heard of the danger
which threatened the fatherland, the old home-love was aroused, and
fifty of them started for the Schwyz frontier to serve their country.
They sent messengers to the Confederates, asking permission to serve in
the ranks of their countrymen, but their service was declined and the
messengers were rudely dismissed. I can confirm this, for I was one of
those messengers. Yes, my son, I was one of the exiles. I was one of
those heaven-stormers, before I became Father Vincentius. Although our
offer of help was rejected we still loved the fatherland, and so we
fifty determined to fight for it by ourselves. We knew where to find the
enemy, and, unknown to any one, we went to the Morgarten and took up a
position on the ridge to the right, called Mattligütsch—it was early in
the morning of November sixteenth. In very early times a slide had been
made there for sending down the firewood cut for the Winter. There were
plenty of logs at hand, which could be rolled down upon the passing
enemy with terrible effect, and we also collected an ample supply of
rocks and boulders. A dense fog hung over Lake Ägeri and its shores,
through which we suddenly heard drum-beats and trumpet-calls in the
distance. Leopold’s army was approaching, with the fifteen hundred
nobles of Swabia, Alsatia, Aargau, and Thurgau, heavily armed, led by
Duke Leopold himself, and Count Henry of Montfort-Tettnung in the
advance, the infantry bringing up the rear.
“Just then the fog lifted and the sun rose. Brightly gleamed the
polished steel armor and helms gayly adorned with many-colored plumes,
and the dense forest of spears flashed in the dazzling light. It was a
fascinating and awe-inspiring spectacle, but it only strengthened our
courage all the more. We calmly awaited our opportunity, entirely
unobserved by the enemy. As the cavalry, little recking of any danger,
advanced through the narrow pass between the Mattligütsch and Lake Ägeri
we let loose a tremendous avalanche of logs and tree trunks, followed by
a hail-storm of rocks. They were at once plunged into frightful
disorder. Many men and horses were felled to the earth and crushed. The
terrified steeds, almost as heavily weighed down as their riders, reared
and threw them. Count Montfort and other leaders attempted to restore
order and resume the march, but we gave them no time. We hurled rocks
and logs into their ranks incessantly and their panic increased every
moment. Though barely able to extricate themselves, some rode back and
urged the rear ranks forward. But the enemy was overcome with terror.
Threats and imprecations mingled with groans and screams on all sides.
The commands of their leaders were not even respected.
“In the first moment of their rage at this unexpected obstruction to
their march, several horsemen made a rash attempt to ride along the
Haselmatt, where they thought they would be least exposed to our
assault, and a part of the vanguard followed them. Observing this
movement we redoubled our exertions, and most of them were crushed as
they were toilsomely ascending. We charged upon those who escaped, and
it was then my eye was put out by the thrust of a lance.
“The thirteen hundred confederates at Haslern, who had heard the tumult
and din of arms, suddenly came up and attacked the cavalry. Their clubs,
spears, and swords made frightful havoc, and they dealt such stout blows
with their halberds that even the heaviest armed foe could not have
withstood them. Hundreds struggled in the stream of blood, filled with
demoniac rage, and many were wounded by them in their blind fury or were
trampled upon by their horses. Some were so paralyzed by fear that they
made no attempt to defend themselves, and were killed. Those who managed
to extricate themselves took to flight. Several dived into Lake Ägeri,
where most of them were drowned because of their heavy armor. Leopold’s
horsemen, who rode along so gallantly and proudly only a short time
before were now killed or fugitives. While the great battle-horns of Uri
and Unterwalden were sounding their blasts of victory, the flying
horsemen encountered the foot-soldiers just coming up. As they did not
turn aside quickly enough, the latter were trodden underfoot by the wild
horses. Among the fugitives were the Count of Montfort and Leopold. The
Duke, usually a brave soldier, furiously galloped miles away to
Winterthur,[9] although no one was pursuing him; such was his
consternation over his surprising defeat.
“At last we met the terrified and panic-stricken ranks of the
foot-soldiers, but among them were men from Zurich and Zug, who fought
like lions. But they were doomed, for who could withstand the
impetuosity of the Schwyzers, whose like was only to be found among the
old German conquerors of the Romans. Like grass before the scythe these
picked men of Zurich and Zug fell in heaps where they stood. Surely,
heroism like this was worthy of a better cause! The other foot-soldiers
fled to the adjacent mountains, and at nine o’clock the battle of
Morgarten was over.
“The victors could not afford to follow the fugitives, for during the
battle messengers had been sent from Unterwalden calling for help. In
pursuance of their plan of battle Count Otto of Strasburg had made the
attack on Unterwalden with his six thousand men. Our division made its
approach in boats on the Lake of the Four Forest Cantons, and as the few
defenders of the shore-line were powerless to prevent them, they
destroyed everything in their way throughout the entire Nidwald. The
other division, led by the Count, invaded the Obwald and ravaged it with
the rapacity of a flock of wolves. After the enemy’s main force had been
routed at Morgarten, the Unterwaldeners went at once to the relief of
their own hard pressed countrymen and hundreds of stout Schwyzers
accompanied them. They first rescued the Nidwaldeners from their
unbidden guests, recovered the spoils, and drove them to their boats in
such haste that many of them fell into the water and were drowned. Then
they moved against the Strasburg force, which they found at Alpnach. As
the Austrian count saw the Unterwaldeners approaching he was seized with
a panic, which spread through his entire army; for he knew that the
Unterwaldeners were at Morgarten and rightly concluded that the Duke’s
army had been defeated. The Strasburgers lost courage and began
retreating without even offering resistance. But some of them failed to
escape, for the rear column was overtaken and several hundred were
killed.
“Thus in one day the Confederates achieved a three-fold victory over an
army which was sixteen times as strong as their own, and which lost
fifteen hundred horsemen and as many foot-soldiers. The loss of the
Confederates was small, but three of their bravest leaders were found
among the dead. Horses, costly weapons, rider and horse equipment, ten
banners, many decorated helmets such as the nobility wear to distinguish
them from others, were among the rich spoils captured. Permission was
granted to those among the enemy who had dead relatives on the field to
take their bodies home. The rest were buried on the spot. The wounded
were treated with special kindness. We who had made the first assault
and prepared the way for victory were allowed to remain in the homeland,
and it was sacred to us ever after.”
Such is the story of the battle at Morgarten as the monk, who had
participated in the events of that memorable day, related it to the lad.
Arnold gazed with admiration upon this old man who had once fought so
stoutly and now went about in his sandals and black cowl as a messenger
of peace. He looked with a kind of reverential awe at the blinded eye,
and the scar seemed to him a mark of honor and victory.
Arnold had always loved his country, but now he was deeply moved by a
feeling of pride as he thought of the skill and courage which had
characterized the deeds of his countrymen, and his heart glowed with the
fire of patriotism. His most ardent wish was to distinguish himself by
his devotion to home and freedom, to swing the halberd in the hot fight,
and to drive the enemy from the fatherland. He no longer wished to be a
knight.