of William Tell, the bailie to whom the name of Gessler has been given
stands out more prominently in Swiss history than any other. Gessler's
residence, according to tradition, was a strongly fortified castle built
in the valley of Uri, near Altorf, and this he named Zwing Uri ("Uri's
Restraint"). He used every means that cruelty or avarice could suggest
in his conduct as governor, and incurred additional hatred from the
methods he adopted to discover the members of a secret conspiracy he
believed existed against him in the district. With this object in view,
Gessler caused a pole, surmounted with the ducal cap of Austria, to be
set up in the market-place at Altorf, before which emblem of authority
he ordered every man to uncover and do reverence as he passed. The
refusal of a peasant to obey this command, his arrest, trial, and
condemnation to pierce with an arrow an apple placed on his own child's
head, his dexterity in performing this feat, his escape from his
enemies, his murder of the tyrant Gessler, the solemn compact sworn at
Ruetli, and the revolutionary events that followed form the motive of
the much-celebrated legend of William Tell.
The mythical hero of this shadowy romance has long embodied in his
person the virtues of the typical avenger of the wrongs of the poor and
the oppressed against the tyranny of the rich and the powerful; his name
has been honored and his manly deeds have been lauded in prose and verse
by thousands in many lands for many centuries, exciting doubtless many a
noble deed of self-denial, and spurring to the forefront many a popular
act of patriotic daring. In Switzerland certainly this picturesque
representative of liberty has done much to mould the political life, if
not also to write many pages of the history of the people, and that in
spite of the questionable morality of the received narrative of his
career, and its unquestionable untruth. The emergence of the Swiss from
slavery to freedom, as in the case of all other nations, was undoubtedly
a gradual process, and there is now every reason for believing that the
narrative relating to William Tell and the other heroes who are said to
have been the prime instruments in the expulsion of the Austrian bailies
from the districts of the Waldstaette are purely apocryphal, with a
possible substratum of actual fact.
It is sad for an individual, and still more so for a nation, to lose the
illusions of youth, if not of innocence, and to awake to the knowledge
of an unbeautiful reality, bereft of all fictitious adornment. When,
however, the naked truth can be discovered--and that is seldom the
case--it must be faced; if the national or individual mind cannot
receive it, the fault lies with the immaturity or morbid condition of
the former, not with the material of the latter.
As the legend of William Tell is more devoid of actual historical
foundation, and is more widely known and believed than are the many
others related as the records of events happening at the period from
which the Swiss date their independence, it may be as well to devote
some little space to its consideration. All the local records that might
possibly throw some light on the existence and career of Tell have now
been thoroughly searched by many impartial and competent scholars, as
well as by enthusiastic partisans, with the invariable result that, till
a considerable lapse of years after the presumed date of their deaths,
not one particle of evidence has been discovered tending to prove the
identity of either William Tell or of the tyrant Gessler. On the other
hand, many local authorities, as early as the beginning of the fifteenth
and sixteenth centuries, when the story was fully established, have gone
out of their way to deny its truth and prove its entire falsity from
their own researches. Materials, indeed, are many relating to the events
that befell the Waldstaette during their conflicts with the bailies,
whom they succeeded in expelling from their country; and it seems in the
highest degree improbable that, had Tell and his friends lived and taken
so prominent a part in effecting their country's freedom as is popularly
assigned to them, they should have been entirely ignored by all
contemporary writers, as well as by subsequent ones, for a hundred and
fifty or two hundred years--yet such is the case.
William Tell is supposed to have performed his heroic deeds in or about
the year 1291, and not till between 1467 and 1474 are his acts recorded,
when in a collection of the traditions of the Canton of Unterwalden,
transcribed by a notary at Sarnen, an account is given of the apple
episode and the subsequent escape of the famous archer, and his murder
of Gessler, though nothing is said of his having taken part in a league
to free his country or of his being the founder of the confederation. A
little prior to the compilation of the _White Book of Sarnen_, as this
collection is called, an anonymous poet composed a _Song of the Origin
of the Confederation_, in which, although no reference is made to
Gessler, the other details are related concerning William Tell shooting
at the apple, the revolt of the peasants, the expulsion of the bailies,
and the formation of a patriotic league. It is, of course, quite
possible that a Gessler was killed by the peasants, as the name was
common enough at the time, but no member of that family--the records of
which have now been most carefully traced--held any office under the
Austrians at that period in any of the Waldstaette, nor is it at all
probable that Austrian bailies governed the districts later than 1231.
Neither is it possible for a bailie named Gessler to have occupied the
castle at the date assigned, the ruins of which have so long been
pointed out as being those of his former abode. So, also, the celebrated
Tell's Chapel on the Vier Waldstaette See, at Kuesnach, was certainly
not built to commemorate the exploits of Schiller's and Rossini's Swiss
hero.
"The fact is that in Gessler we are confronted by a curious case of
confusion in identity. At least three totally different men seem to have
been blended into one in the course of an attempt to reconcile the
different versions of the three cantons. Felix Hammerlin, of Zurich, in
1450, tells of a Hapsburg governor being on the little island of
Schwanan, in the lake of Lowerz, who seduced a maid of Schwyz, and was
killed by her brothers. Then there was another person, strictly
historical, Knight Eppo, of Kuesnach, who, while acting as bailiff for
the Duke of Austria, put down two revolts of the inhabitants in his
district, one in 1284 and another in 1302. Finally, there was the tyrant
bailiff mentioned in the ballad of Tell, who, by the way, a chronicler,
writing in 1510, calls, not Gessler, but the Count of Seedorf. These
three persons were combined, and the result was named Gessler."
Moreover, it is extremely doubtful whether the green plateau of the
Ruetli below Seelisberg, and some six hundred and fifty feet above the
lake, with its miraculous springs, ever witnessed the patriotic
gathering of the thirty-three peasants who, tradition asserts, there
formed the league against Austrian rule, or heard the solemn oath they
and their leaders, Stauffacher, Fuerst, and Arnold, mutually swore.
In all probability the legend of Tell and the apple originated in
Scandinavia, and was brought by the Alemanni into Switzerland; as into
other lands. Saxo Grammaticus, in the _Withina Saga_, places the scene
of a very similar story in that country, some three hundred years before
the appearance of the Swiss version, and tells of a certain Danish king
named Harold, the counterpart of Gessler, and one Toki, who played the
same _rôle_ enacted by Tell. Like legends are also related of Olaf,
Eindridi, and an almost identical one to that of William Tell of Egil,
who, being ordered by King Nidung to shoot an apple off the head of the
son of the former, took two arrows from his quiver and prepared to obey.
On the King asking why he had selected two arrows, Egil replied, "To
shoot thee, tyrant, with the second, should the first fail."
Neither are similar narratives absent from the legends of other
countries. Thus Reginald Scott says: "Puncher shot a penny on his son's
head, and made ready another arrow to have slain the Duke of Rengrave,
who commanded it." So also similar incidents occur in the tales of Adam
Bell, _Clym of the Clough_, and William of Claudeslie in the _Percy
Ballads_, and in the legends of many places in Northern Europe. On this
subject Sir Francis Adams mentions, in a note to his valuable book on
the Swiss Confederation, that a well-known citizen of Berne, in answer
to his inquiry as to whether Tell ever existed, replied: "Not in
Switzerland. If you travel in the Hasli districts you will find a
distinct race of men, who are of Scandinavian origin, and I believe that
their ancestors brought the legend with them." To this it may be added
that philologists have long since traced the rude dialect of Oberhasli
to its Scandinavian sources, and the physical characteristics of the
people mark them as of different racial origin from those around them.
At the period these events were in progress, or, rather, about the time
that the Austrian bailies were expelled, toward the close of the
thirteenth century, the Emperor's[45] attention was too fully occupied
conducting a war against the Bishop of Basel to allow him to enforce
his authority among the revolted Waldstaette. He did not, however, allow
the peasants for long to enjoy the fruits of their energetic and
successful action, as some six months later he headed a large army with
which he intended to enforce obedience. The expedition thus begun led to
Albert's tragic death, and reared another step leading to the final
independence of the Swiss. On reaching Baden, in the Aargau, a halt was
made in order to deliberate on the best mode of punishing the rebels.
Here a general council of nobles decided, after careful deliberation, on
the route to be taken, and the nature of the measures best calculated to
enforce Albert's authority. On May 1, 1308, the Emperor, with a few
followers, returned to Rheinfelden, in order to visit the Empress
Elizabeth, preparatory to marching against the Waldstaette. Shortly
before this time Albert had had a violent quarrel with his nephew John,
son of Duke Rudolph of Swabia, touching the youth's paternal
inheritance, which he persistently declined to allow John to take
possession of, and whom he had, moreover, publicly insulted by offering
him a coronet of twigs as the only recompense for his just claims.
In spite of this quarrel Albert allowed John and four of his fastest
friends to occupy a place in his suite when he left Baden to visit his
consort. Albert's disregard of his nephew's resentment was further shown
when the party arrived on the bank of the Reuss, as he allowed him, with
his friends, to accompany him in the boat in which he crossed the river.
The passage was made in safety, but just as the Emperor was stepping on
shore near the town of Windisch, John and three of his companions struck
him down with their swords, and after inflicting a number of severe
wounds left him for dead. The unhappy monarch expired a few minutes
after in the arms of a passing peasant woman. All this bloody scene took
place in full view of the Emperor's train on the opposite side of the
river, though no one apparently was able to render him assistance,
probably from the absence of boats and the suddenness of the tragedy.
The murderers succeeded in making good their escape, though two of them
were afterward captured and executed, as were also a number of innocent
people believed to be participators in the conspiracy. John himself was
more fortunate, for, disguised as a monk, he managed for many years to
hide his identity, and, after wandering in Tuscany unsuspected,
eventually died in a monastery at Pisa.
Albert's daughter Agnes, Queen of Hungary, "a woman unacquainted with
the milder feelings of piety, but addicted to a certain sort of
devotional habits and practices by no means inconsistent with implacable
vindictiveness," fearfully avenged his murder. This woman appears to
have been seized with a perfectly demoniacal mania for blood and
revenge. Aided by those in authority, who feared lest a widespread
conspiracy had been formed, she seized, on the slightest suspicion,
hundreds of innocent victims and put them to death with all the ferocity
of a famished beast. Members of nearly a hundred noble families, and at
least a thousand persons of lower rank, of every age and of both sexes,
fell beneath her savage vengeance. She is said to have further whetted
her appetite for horrors by wading, at Fahrwangen, in the blood of
sixty-three innocent knights, exclaiming the while, "This day we bathe
in May-dew." But at last, after several months, even the implacable
bloodthirstiness of the Hungarian Queen was satisfied, and the massacre
ceased. Over the spot where Albert met his death Agnes built a
monastery; she named it Koenigsfelden and enriched it with the spoils of
her victims. Here she took up her abode for the remainder of her life,
and for nearly fifty years practised the most rigid asceticism, and
here, by the side of her parents, she was eventually buried.
Koenigsfelden stood on the road from Basel to Baden and Zurich, and
within sight of the castle of Hapsburg, the cradle of the house of
Austria.
Strenuous efforts were made by Albert's widow to obtain the succession
to the imperial throne for her son, Frederick, Duke of Austria, but the
choice of the prince-electors, headed by the Archbishop of Mainz, fell
on Count Henry of Luxemburg, a liberal-minded and generous noble, who
was accordingly crowned, under the title of Henry VII. During the short
reign of this monarch he proved himself a wise and generous friend to
the Swiss, whose privileges he confirmed. He made no effort to reimpose
local governors on the people of the Waldstaette, but, on the contrary,
confirmed the charters of Schwyz and Uri, granted one to Unterwalden,
and acknowledged jurisdiction. After Henry's death, in 1313, civil war
once more divided the empire through the rival contentions of Ludwig
(Louis) of Bavaria and Albert's son, Frederick of Austria. In this
contest the powerful monastery of Einsiedeln sided with the Austrian
candidate, and through its influence induced the Bishop of Constance to
place the large portion of Switzerland supporting the Bavarian cause
under a sentence of excommunication.
Between Einsiedeln and the Waldstaette there had long existed a feeling
of bitter hostility, the canons resenting the independent spirit
displayed by the peasants, and the latter remembering the many acts of
arbitrary oppression they and their ancestors had suffered at the
instance of the abbey. Indeed, actual hostilities were only prevented by
the friendly, though interested, mediation of the citizens of Zurich,
who were most anxious to preserve tranquillity in the territories of
both, in order to allow their trade with Italy over the St. Gothard
being carried on. They also favored peace, because since the Hapsburgs
had refused permission to the peasants to enter Lucerne, these had been
in the habit of bringing their cattle and dairy produce through
Einsiedeln to the monks of Zurich. The action of the monks, however, in
bringing about the serious sentence of excommunication so roused the
spirit of the mountaineers that, headed by their Landammann, Werner
Stauffacher, they attacked and captured the abbey, ransacked the whole
building from cellar to altar, and carried off the monks captive to the
town of Schwyz. This daring and sacrilegious act led Frederick--the
hereditary avoyer of the abbey--to place the Waldstaette under the
further punishment of the "ban of the empire." Both these sentences were
alike fruitless in bringing the peasants to submission to the house of
Austria. Shortly after, on Ludwig ascending the throne, the "ban" was
removed by the new monarch, and, with the aid of the Archbishop of
Mainz, the Metropolitan of Constance in 1315, the excommunication was
also revoked.
The triumph of Ludwig's claims over those of Frederick began that long
series of deadly conflicts between the Swiss and the house of Austria
that led the two nations for so many years to regard each other as
natural and implacable enemies. At this time Austria was governed by
Duke Leopold, a man of arrogant, passionate temper, of unscrupulous
ambition, and brutal cruelty, according to the Swiss chronicles, but
who, from other accounts, does not appear specially to have deserved
this character. His hatred of the Swiss was greatly increased by their
action in opposing his brother, Frederick, in the late contest. No
sooner, indeed, were the troubles of that contest over than he prepared
to wreak his vengeance, and once for all crush the power and
independence of the Forest States, and, as he declared, "trample the
audacious rustics under his feet."
Rapidly collecting his forces, Leopold soon found himself at the head of
fifteen thousand or twenty thousand well-armed men, including a large
body of heavily equipped cavalry. These latter were then looked upon as
the main strength of an army. Most of the ancient nobility of Hapsburg,
Kyburg, and Lenzburg rallied to his banners, besides many of the lesser
nobles and a contingent from Zurich, the citizens of which, deserting
their natural allies, had formed a treaty with Austria. Against this
formidable array the men of Schwyz, Uri, and Unterwalden were only able
to muster some fourteen hundred men, who, however, made up for their
want of weapons and discipline by the geographical advantages of the
country, by their patriotism, unity, and determined bravery.
Nothing now seemed to intervene between the Swiss and imminent
destruction, when, viewing with a compassion, most rare in those days,
the impending fate of the heroic mountaineers, the powerful Count of
Toggenborg tried to negotiate a peace with the Duke. Leopold's terms,
however, were so humiliating and evidently so insincere that nothing
came of these proposals.
On November 3, 1315, Leopold's army reached Baden, where a council was
held to determine upon the details of the campaign, a campaign having
for its object, as the Duke openly declared, "the extirpation of the
whole race of the people of Waldstaette." The difficulties of the
enterprise now began to show themselves, as several of Leopold's
followers, being well acquainted with the nature of the country and the
characters of the inhabitants, pointed out that both would offer a
determined resistance. Finally, relying upon their numbers and superior
arms, it was settled to march on Schwyz, through the Sattel Pass by
Morgarten, making Zug the base of operations; and while a false attack
should be threatened on the side of Arth, Unterwalden should be attacked
from Lucerne, as well as by a large force under the Count of Strasburg
by way of the Bruenig. Leopold himself was to lead the main army and
enter Schwyz through the pass. Had these operations remained secret, or
been carried out successfully, the course of Swiss history would
probably have been very different from what it was; but fortunately for
the cause of freedom, the Austrian plans became known in time, and
failed signally when put to the test. According to ancient chronicles,
as the Confederates were hurrying to repel the feint from Arth, a
friendly Austrian baron, named Henry of Huenenberg, shot an arrow amid
them bearing the message, "Guard Morgarten on the eve of St. Othmar." Be
this as it may, the Swiss collected their little band on the Sattel,
between which mountain and the eastern shore of the Lake of Egeri is
situated the ever-memorable Pass of Morgarten. Here, on the night of
November 14th, they collected a number of loose bowlders and
tree-trunks, and then, having offered up prayers for the preservation of
their country, they awaited with resolution the coming struggle.
With the first dawn of morning the Austrian army--the first that ever
entered the country--made its appearance in the pass, headed by Duke
Leopold and his formidable cavalry. Suddenly, when the whole narrow
defile was blocked with horse and foot, thousands of heavy stones and
trees were hurled among them from the neighboring heights, where the
peasant band, forming the Swiss force, lay concealed. The suddenness and
vigor of this unexpected attack quickly threw the first ranks of the
invaders into confusion, and caused a panic to seize the horses, many of
which in their fright turned and trampled down the men behind. Rapidly
the panic increased as the showers of missiles came tearing down, and
soon the whole army was in a state of wild terror and confusion--a
condition greatly assisted by the slippery nature of the ground. Then,
with wild shouts, and brandishing their iron-studded clubs and their
formidable halberts and scythes, down the mountain-side rushed, with the
fury of their native avalanche, the heroic Confederates; and falling on
their foes literally slew them by thousands. Many hundreds of the
Austrians perished in the lake, the men of Zurich alone making a stand,
and falling each where he fought. Few succeeded in effecting their
escape from what was little less than a general butchery.
On that memorable day all the flower of Austria's nobility lay dead
within the country they had hoped so easily to conquer. The Duke, with a
handful of followers, alone survived, and even these were forced to
undergo many perils before they eventually arrived in safety at
Winterthur. Neither were the other attacks, under the Count of Strasburg
and the forces from Lucerne, more successful for the invaders. Both
armies were repulsed with enormous loss by the men of Unterwalden, who
gave no quarter, many of their opponents being their own countrymen from
the estates of the abbey of Interlaken. After these signal victories the
Swiss, according to ancient custom, offered up a solemn thanksgiving to
almighty God for their success and the overthrow of their enemies; and
then, having laden themselves with the spoils of the dead, they returned
to their humble occupations, whence the defence of their country and
their lives had called them away. Among the Swiss, Morgarten has always
taken the first place in the long record of heroic victories that since
1315 has made the fame of Swiss arms second to none in Europe. This
victory at once brought the Waldstaette out of their long obscurity, and
placed them in the front rank as powerful and respected states in
Switzerland.
Leopold, on his return to Austria, was so satisfied with the ability of
the "audacious rustics" to defend themselves that he made no further
attempt to enter their country.
BATTLE OF BANNOCKBURN
A.D. 1314
ANDREW LANG
After the submission of Scotland in 1303, at the end of
Wallace's heroic struggle, Edward I undertook to complete
the union of that kingdom with England. "But the great
difficulty," says a historian, "in dealing with the Scots
was that they never knew when they were conquered; and just
when Edward hoped that his scheme for union was carried out,
they rose in arms once more."
The Scottish leader now was Robert Bruce, Lord of Annandale
and Earl of Carrick. He had acted with Wallace, but
afterward swore fealty to Edward. Still later he united with
William Lamberton, Bishop of St. Andrews, against the
English King. Edward heard of their compact while Bruce was
in London, and the Scot fled to Dumfries. There, 1306, in
the Church of the Gray Friars, he had an interview with John
Comyn, called the Red Comyn--Bruce's rival for the Scottish
throne--which ended in a violent altercation and the killing
of Comyn by Bruce with a dagger. Next to the Baliols, Bruce
was now nearest heir to the throne, and March 27, 1306, he
was crowned.