peasantry to the services required and the heavy burdens imposed upon
them by the house of Hapsburg, and to the ill-treatment the men, women,
and girls endured from the governors of the country. In support of
this accusation Melchior Russ cites an example; he says: “William Tell
was forced by the seneschal to hit with an arrow an apple placed on
the head of his own son, failing in which, he himself was to be put to
death.” It is here that Russ takes up the narrative of Justinger, and
continues the history of Tell in a chapter entitled: “_Adventure of
Tell on the Lake_.”
“Tell resolved to avenge himself of the cruel and unjust treatment he
had long endured from the governor and the magistrates. He went into
the canton of Uri, assembled the commune, and told them with sobs
of emotion of the tyranny and persecution to which he was every day
exposed. His complaints coming to the ears of the governor, he ordered
Tell to be seized, to be bound hand and foot, and to be carried in a
boat to a fortified castle situated in the centre of the lake. During
the passage across a violent tempest arose, and all on board, giving
themselves up for lost, began to implore the aid of God and of the
saints. It was suggested to the governor that Tell, being vigorous and
skilled in nautical matters, was the only one likely to help them out
of their danger. Aware of their imminent peril, the governor promised
that Tell’s life should be spared if he succeeded in landing all the
passengers in safety. On his promising to do so he was set free, and
manœuvred so well that he steered close to a flat rock, snatched up his
cross-bow, leapt ashore at one bound, and, aiming at the governor, shot
him dead. The crew were home away in the boat, which Tell had quickly
pushed off from the shore, and he regained the interior, where he
continued to excite the people to rebellion and to revolt.”
We will now quote from Peterman Etterlein, another chronicler, whose
work was first published at Bâle in 1507:
“Now it happened one day that the seneschal (or governor), named
Gressler (or Gessler), came to the canton of Uri, and ordered a pole
to be fixed on a spot much frequented by the people. A hat was placed
on the top of the pole, and a decree was published commanding every
passer-by to do homage to the hat as if the governor himself stood
there in person. Now there was in the canton a worthy man named William
Tell, who had secretly conspired with Stöffacher and his companions.
This man passed and repassed several times in front of the pole and
the hat without saluting them. The official on guard reported the
circumstance to his master, who, when he became acquainted with this
act of insubordination, summoned Tell to his presence, and demanded the
reason of his disobedience. “My good Lord,” said Tell, “I could not
imagine that your Grace would attach so much importance to a salute;
pardon me this fault, therefore, and impute it to my thoughtlessness.
Now William Tell was the most skilful crossbowman that it was possible
to find, and he had pretty children whom he tenderly loved. The
governor said to him: ‘It is reported that thou art a celebrated
archer; thou shalt give me a proof of thy skill in bringing down with
thine arrow an apple placed on the head of one of thy children. If thou
dost not hit it at the first trial it shall cost thee thy life.’
“It was in vain that Tell remonstrated with the governor; he refused
to relent, and he himself placed the apple on the head of the child.
Thus driven by hard necessity, Tell first took an arrow which he slipt
under his doublet, and then took another which he fitted to his bow.
Having prayed to God and to the holy Virgin to direct his arm and to
save his son, he brought down the apple without wounding the child.
The governor had perceived that he concealed the first arrow, and
questioned him as to his reason for so doing, and after much hesitation
on the one part and terrible menaces on the other, Tell confessed
that if he had struck his child, he should have shot the governor
with the second arrow. Well, replied Gessler, I have promised thee
thy life and I will keep my word, but since I am acquainted with thy
evil intentions, I will confine thee in a place where thou wilt never
see the sun nor the moon, and where thou wilt no longer have it in
thy power to attempt my life. He immediately ordered his attendants
to seize Tell, and he embarked with them and the prisoner for his
castle of Küssenach, where he resolved to shut up his victim in a dark
tower. Tell’s arms were placed in the stern of the boat, close to the
governor.”
As in the preceding narrative, a storm arises, and Tell, to whom the
care of the vessel is confided, leaps upon a rock, lies in ambush in a
hollow through which the governor must pass to reach his castle, and
kills him with an arrow from his bow.
The other chroniclers have followed the same story, sometimes modifying
it and at others subjecting it to a critical examination. Now there
are four different views existing of this tradition of William Tell.
The first admits the authenticity of the legend in all its details, as
it is believed in the canton of Uri.
The second admits the existence of Tell, his refusal to do homage to
the hat, his voyage on the lake, and the tragical end of Gessler; but
it rejects the story of the apple.
According to the third view, William Tell is believed to have existed
and to have made himself remarkable by some daring exploit; but this
exploit was not connected with the plans of the conspirators, and
consequently exercised no influence over the formation of the Swiss
confederation.
The fourth view supposes the tradition of William Tell to be a mere
fable, an afterthought, unworthy of being inserted in any history of
Switzerland.
We know of no chronicle anterior to those of Melchior Russ and
Petermann Etterlein that records the events of which the tradition of
William Tell is composed. And so great a difference is perceptible
between the two histories, that it would be presumption to maintain
that the one emanates from the other, or that they have been drawn from
a common source.
However it is far from being the fact that all the historical works
written by the cotemporaries of this hero have been destroyed or buried
in oblivion. Freudenberger, in his _Danish Fable_, has cited several of
them. Franz Guillimann, in his work _De rebus Helveticis_, published
at Fribourg in 1598, inserted the history of William Tell, although he
regarded it as a mixture of fiction and probable facts, or rather as a
conventional truth that does not bear examination; for he casts a doubt
upon the very existence of the personage whose memory the Swiss people
honour as their liberator.
In one of his letters, addressed to Goldast, 27th March 1607, he writes
thus: “You ask me what I think of the history of William Tell: here is
my answer. Although in my _Helvetian Antiquities_ I have yielded to
the popular belief in introducing certain details connected with that
tale, still when I look more closely into it, the whole thing appears
to me to be a pure fable; and that which confirms me in my opinion is,
that up to this time I have never met with any writer anterior to the
15th century who alludes to any such history. It appears to me that
all the circumstances have been invented to foment the hatred of the
confederate states against Austria. I could produce my reasons for
supposing this story of Tell to be a fabrication; but why should we
waste time on such a subject?”
Here then we have a respectable historian, the author of a learned work
on the antiquities of Switzerland, confessing himself obliged to admit
an error because it is popular! Perhaps also, in his own interest, it
was safer to do so, for a few years later (in 1760) Uriel Freudenberger
created a terrible disturbance in Bern by publishing a small volume
in Latin entitled _William Tell, a Danish Fable_, which was by many
attributed to Emmanuel Haller. The canton of Uri condemned the author
to be burned with his book, and on the 14th of June in the same year it
addressed a very urgent letter to the other cantons, advising them to
pass a like sentence.
The work of Freudenberger having been burnt, the copies became
extremely scarce, but it was reprinted in Breyer’s _Historical
Magazine_, Vol. I. p. 325. The same text was also reproduced--but only
in order to be partially refuted--in the work of Hisely, published
at Delft in 1826 under the title: “_Of William Tell and the Swiss
Revolution of 1307; or the history of the early cantons up to the
treaty of Brunnen in 1315_.”
In the latter half of the 17th century, a writer as eminent as
Guilliman, J. H. Rahn, after recording in his chronicle the history of
Tell according to the tradition, explains his reasons for regarding it
as fabulous, or at least as open to suspicion.
Later still, another writer, Isaac Christ. Iselin, in his large
historical dictionary (_Historisches und geographisches allgemeines
Lexicon_, Basel 1727, in folio) says, that although several authors
cite this story, it is nevertheless open to doubt, because 1) the
ancient annalists are silent on the subject, and 2) because Olaus
Magnus has related the same adventure of a certain Toko, in the reign
of Harold king of Denmark. There is so great a similarity between the
two stories that it is impossible to avoid supposing that one has been
copied from the other.
Two important publications express themselves in a still more positive
manner. In the chronicle of Melchior Russ, edited by Schneller of
Lucerne, the editor, in learned notes, conveys serious doubts upon
the story and even upon the very existence of William Tell. These
doubts acquire a fresh importance from the collection of documents
published in 1835 by Kopp, a man of letters, who shows how slight is
the foundation for the tradition which makes Tell the avenger of
oppressed liberty. It will be seen that the Swiss writers of the 15th
and 16th centuries, far from being agreed as to the time at which Tell
is said to have signalised himself by an act of heroism, refer this
event, on the contrary, to different periods, and separate the two
extremes of the dates by a space of forty years. Kopp renders the story
of the apple still more doubtful, by the positive assurance that the
administration of Küssenach was never in the hands of a Gessler. This
assertion is founded on the charters, which denote the uninterrupted
succession of the administrators of Küssenach during the century in
which the incident in question is said to have taken place. The notes
of M. Kopp contain precise indications which shake the basis upon which
rests the history of William Tell, and threaten to overthrow it.
Thus, in resuming, we see that the most ancient work which makes any
mention of the adventures of William Tell is the chronicle of Melchior
Russ junior, written at the end of the 15th century. Hence it follows
that this story was not known until two centuries after the event (1296
to 1482), and that the chronicles of the middle ages, so eager after
extraordinary facts and interesting news, were entirely ignorant of it.
Indeed, Hammerlin and Faber, writers of the 15th century, and Mutius
a chronicler at the beginning of the 16th century, narrate in detail
the tyrannical conduct of Austria, which they consider as the principal
cause of the insurrection of the Swiss people; but not one of them
speaks of a Tell or of a William, neither of the story of the apple,
nor of the tragical end of Gessler. Moreover, we possess the work of a
contemporary of William Tell, Jean de Winterthür, whose chronicle is
one of the best of the 14th century. He recounts the details of the
war which the herdsmen of the Alps waged against Austria. He describes
with remarkable precision the battle of Morgarten, the particulars
of which he had gathered from the lips of his father, an eye-witness
of it. He says, that on the evening of that day so fatal to Austria,
he saw the Duke Leopold arrive in flight, pallid and half-dead with
fright. Jean de Winterthür also tells us that the heroes of Morgarten
instituted, on the very day of their victory, a solemn festival to
perpetuate the remembrance of it. But this chronicler, who knew so
much, and who was so fond of relating even fabulous histories, has made
no mention whatever of the deeds of William Tell! How is it possible
to conceive that the above-named authors could unanimously pass over
in silence the historical fact attributed to William Tell, a fact
accompanied by circumstances so remarkable that they must have made
a strong impression on every mind? The love of the marvellous is a
characteristic trait of the middle-ages, and yet the poetical story of
William Tell has left no vestige in the annals of his cotemporaries! It
does not appear in the chronicle of Zürich of 1479, where even the name
of William Tell is not cited. What must be inferred from this silence?
If we proceed to examine the circumstances as they are related by those
who have written of William Tell, we shall find the authors at variance
in their details; contradicting themselves in their chronology and in
the names of the places where they assert the facts to have occurred.
In 1836 the professors of philosophy at the university of Heidelberg
proposed the following subject for literary composition: “To examine
with greater care than Messieurs Kopp and Ideler have done, into the
origin of the Swiss confederation and into the details given respecting
Gessler and Tell, and to estimate the sources whence these details have
come down to us.” The university received in answer to this proposition
a memoir which obtained a prize, and which was published by the
author, Ludwig Häusser, in 1840.
Of all the works that have appeared on this subject this is the most
complete and the most valuable. To a great acquaintance with the
historical literature of Switzerland, M. Häusser unites that spirit
of criticism without which it is impossible to distinguish truth from
fiction. The following are the conclusions arrived at by M. Häusser
from his researches. 1) There is nothing to justify the historical
importance that is commonly attached to William Tell. He has no right
to the title of deliverer of Switzerland, seeing that he took no
active part in the freedom of the Waldstätter. 2) The existence of a
Swiss named William Tell is without doubt. It is probable that this
man made himself remarkable by some bold exploit, but one not in any
way connected with the history of the confederation. 3) As for the
tradition as it is preserved in ballads and chronicles, it is only
supported by such evidence as is unworthy of credit. It is easy to
demonstrate that the particulars related in this tradition are not
authentic, and that they are pure inventions of the imagination. In
short, the story of the apple shot from the head of the child is of
Scandinavian origin.
Monsieur J. Hisely has summed up the whole discussion on the subject of
William Tell in his _Recherches Critiques_, published at Lausanne in
1843.
In the historico-critical treatise of Julius Ludwig Ideler (Berlin
1836), the author says that there exists no record of incontestable
authenticity referring to the romantic incident of Tell’s life. The
chapel near Flüelen, on the borders of the lake, was only constructed
in 1388: the chapel at Burglen, on the spot where Tell’s house formerly
stood, dates back to the same time, and there is no written document to
prove that they were built to commemorate any share taken by Tell in
the emancipation of Switzerland.
The stone fountain at Altdorf[30] which bore the name of Tell, and
above which was seen the statue of Tell, and of his son with an apple
placed upon his head, was only constructed in 1786, when the tradition
had already been singularly shaken by critical researches.
Ideler adds, that Tell’s lime-tree in the centre of the market place
at Altdorf (Tellenlinde), and his crossbow preserved in the arsenal at
Zürich, are not more valid proofs than the pieces of the true cross
which are exhibited in a thousand places, or the handkerchief of St.
Veronica, that is said to be the real original.
A critic whom it is also important to read on this question, is Hisely,
in his investigations into the sources whence the Swiss writers have
drawn the history of William Tell. He explains at length the reasons
that make him consider the absolute silence of Jean de Winterthür and
of Conrad Justinger as an inexplicable enigma.
Hisely has pursued his researches without being prejudiced for or
against the popular faith, but the result tends to show how little
foundation there is for the story.
In conclusion we will cite the legends analogous to the circumstance of
the apple shot in twain by William Tell.
ENDRIDE PANSA, OR THE SPLAY-FOOTED.
(A LEGEND OF THE 10TH CENTURY.)
The king of Norway went to pay a visit to Endride, a young pagan whom
he wished to convert to Christianity. After they had drank together,
and before setting out for the chase, the king said to Endride: “I
wish to see which of us two is the best marksman.” “I consent,” said
Endride. They entered a neighbouring forest. The king took off his
cloak, fixed a long piece of wood in the ground at a considerable
distance, which was to serve as a mark to the two archers. He then
bent his bow and aimed so accurately that the arrow hit the top of the
wood and remained fixed in it. All the spectators were in admiration
at the dexterity of the king. Endride at first asked to be excused
from shooting; but the king refused, and Endride, being forced to
obey, shot, and planted his arrow in that of the king, so that they
were embedded the one in the other. The king, evidently piqued, said
to Endride: “In truth thy skill is remarkable, but this trial is not
decisive. Let thy sister’s son be brought, on whom thou hast once said
all thy affections are concentrated. Let him serve as a mark for us,
and let one of the chessmen be placed upon the head of the child.” The
boy was brought and fastened to a stake. “We are going,” said the king
to his rival, “to bring down this chessman from the head of the child
without hurting him.” “Make the trial, if such is your good pleasure,”
replied Endride; “but if you touch the boy, I will avenge him.”
The king ordered the eyes of the child to be bandaged, made the sign
of the cross, and blessed the point of the arrow before shooting. The
countenance of Endride became flushed with emotion. The dart flew, and
the historian Thormod Torfæus, who recites the fact, adds that Olaf
shot off the chessman without doing the least injury to the child.
The saga goes on to relate that Endride, overcome with admiration at
the skill of the king, yielded to his wishes, was baptised and was
received as a welcome guest at the court of Olaf.
ADVENTURES OF HEMING.
Harold Hardrade, king of Norway (1047-1066), went one day to visit
Aslak, a rich peasant of the isle of Torg, which forms part of the
group of the islands of Heligoland, and made acquaintance with Heming,
son of the opulent islander. Aslak, who distrusted his guest, sought
to get rid of him as soon as possible; he came therefore at the end
of the second day to tell Harold that his vessel was ready to sail.
But the king replied, that he intended to pass yet another day on the
island. He then betook himself to the forest, there to contend for the
honour of victory in shooting with the crossbow. Although Harold was a
skilful archer, he could not equal his rival. Irritated, and desirous
to avenge this affront, the king ordered Heming, under pain of death,
to hit with his arrow a nut placed upon the head of his brother Biörn.
At first Heming refused to obey so barbarous an order; but, yielding at
length to the entreaties of his brother, he begged the king to place
himself by the side of Biörn, in order to ascertain the result of the
trial. But Harold made Odd Ofeigsön take that place, and he himself
remained close to Heming. The latter, having made the sign of the cross
and invoked the vengeance of heaven upon the oppressor, drew his bow
and shot the nut placed on the head of Biörn.
The saga relates that the tyranny of Harold excited the islanders to
revolt, and that Heming, having taken refuge in England, was present
in the English army at the battle of Standfordbridge in 1066. The
Norwegian king, at the first shock of the two armies, was struck by an
arrow that pierced his throat.
ADVENTURE OF PALNATOKE, OR TOKO.
This legend is to be found in the _History of Denmark by Saxo
Grammaticus_. He has drawn his recitals from oral tradition and ancient
ballads. This author died in 1204. It appears that the adventure of
Toko must have taken place under the reign of Harold of the Black
Tooth; that is to say about 950.
A certain Toko, attached for some time to the service of the king, had
excited the jealousy of his companions in arms by his valour and his
exploits. One day, during a banquet, Toko boasted that with the first
flight of his arrow he would bring down from a distance an apple placed
on the end of a staff. His curious companions related the circumstance
to the king, adding to it remarks insulting to himself. Harold, whose
wicked disposition was irritated by the discourse of his flatterers,
ordered Toko to perform what he had boasted himself capable of doing,
taking for a mark an apple placed on the head of his child. He added,
that if he did not succeed on the first attempt, his vanity should cost
him his life. The imminence of the danger strengthened the courage of
Toko. After placing his child, the intrepid warrior impressed upon him
the necessity of remaining motionless when he should hear the hissing
of the arrow; and, having taken the measures dictated by prudence,
he made him turn his head aside, lest he should be frightened at the
sight of the weapon his father was aiming at him. Then Toko took three
arrows, fixed one in his bow, and hit the apple at the first trial.
The king asking Toko what he had intended to do with the two remaining
arrows, the archer replied: “If my arm had failed me, the second
arrow should have pierced thy heart, and the third, that of the first
audacious man who dared to advance a step.” The king, concealing his
resentment, subjected Toko to other trials, and he, cursing Harold,
sought out Svend, the son of Harold, who was arming to make war against
his father. One day, having surprised the king behind a bush, he
revenged himself for all the outrages he had endured, by letting fly at
him an arrow which inflicted a mortal wound.
Olaüs Magnus also relates this story, which is not surprising, seeing
that he has sometimes copied word for word from _Saxo Grammaticus_. He
confesses, moreover, that he has borrowed from his predecessor.
ADVENTURES OF EGIL.
If from Scandinavia we pass into Iceland, we there find the legend of
the apple transmitted to us by the Vilkina-Saga, in the 14th century.
Once upon a time, Egil, the brother of Veland the smith, came to the
court of king Nidung. Egil excelled in the art of handling the bow and
the crossbow. His address excited admiration throughout the country.
The king Nidung gave Egil a good reception, and put his skill more than
once to the proof. After having exhausted all the resources of his
imagination, he took it into his head to have an apple placed upon the
head of the son of Egil. “From where thou standest,” said he to the
archer, “thou must shoot down this apple.” Egil took an arrow from his
quiver, tried its point, and laid it by his side. He then took a second
arrow, rested it on the string of his bow, took aim, and struck the
apple in such a manner that the arrow and the apple both fell to the
ground. This trial of skill still lives in the memory of the people.
King Nidung then asked Egil why he had taken two arrows, since he had
been ordered to hit the apple at one trial. “Sire,” replied Egil, “I
will tell you the truth, whatever may be the consequence. This arrow
was destined for you, if I had wounded my son.” The king admired the
frankness of this reply, and was not offended by it, acknowledging the
cruelty of the order he had given.
All the spectators agreed that it was the speech of a worthy and brave
man.
ADVENTURE OF WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLY.