my situation, than done me any harm. It has relieved me from the rival
of my greatness, and authorises me to exercise that severity, which is
necessary for my own views, under the fair-sounding name of just
revenge. These late unavailing efforts to oppose my will have convinced
me, that I have to do with a weak, powerless people, who may be incensed
indeed so far as to make some show of resistance at first, but whom
firmness and chastisement will soon reduce within the limits of abject
submission. There are not many Tells among them, God be thanked! He was
the only man whom I feared, and luckily he is either dead, or a
voluntary exile in some distant country; report says the former; but let
him be where he will, so he be not here to spirit up my slaves against
me with his poisonous influence. _My_ slaves? Right; they are mine, no
other’s. The ensuing year will, I trust, make clear to the world, for
_whom_ I am labouring, and whose advantage and peril are most implicated
in the business! Then when I have attained the height at which I aim,
doubtless my new dignity being shared with their adored Amalberga will
have no slight influence in reconciling these people to my authority;
and her popularity will induce them to protect her husband against the
wrath of the deceived Emperor. The precious prize once secure, I shall
then have no need of this assumed severity; the affection of my subjects
will suffice to preserve them in obedience; I shall be at liberty to
follow the bent of my inclinations by ruling with a gentle sway; and all
of us will at once be made happy, Amalberga, myself, and the country
which we govern.”—
Such was the subject of Landenberg’s reflections, many of which he
occasionally imparted to some of his confidential attendants, as he rode
along, totally unconscious of the foes so near him, and of the danger
which threatened the speedy overthrow of all his ambitious hopes and
projects. Here and there a sentence or two spoken in a louder voice than
ordinary reached the hearing of the Helvetians, who were concealed among
the various caverns Of the Castle-rock: and then was many a sword half
drawn from the scabbard to impose eternal silence upon the insolent
boaster. The vigilance of the prudent chiefs, however, and consideration
for the public welfare compelled them to repress their unseasonable
zeal. An over-hasty attack would have been sufficient to ruin every
thing. Landenberg, it’s true, would probably have perished, but only to
make room for a successor perhaps even worse than himself. The object
here was not to make away with a single tyrant; no, it was to throw off
a disgraceful yoke for ever, and to bequeath the precious treasure
Liberty to their children, and to the children of their children even
down to the latest posterity. Landenberg therefore was suffered to
proceed with his attendants unmolested; nothing gave them warning of the
danger, which lurked so near, except now and then a low whispering noise
among the brambles, which made their hair stand an end, for it was now
the ghostly hour; and as they dreaded its being something supernatural,
the sound only served to make those who heard it pursue their course
with the greater speed.
Scarcely had the last horseman disappeared in the farther part of the
Valley, or rather scarcely had darkness dropt her thick curtain between
the enemies; scarcely had the mountain-echoes ceased to reverberate the
last sound of the hoofs of their steeds, when Alwyn’s guiding-star made
its appearance: Ursula’s lamp was seen glimmering on the battlements
above. A few hasty words were spoken among the confederates respecting
the conduct of the enterprise; the last directions were given; and then
young Melthal sprang into the bucket destined to convey him to her who
expected him so impatiently, and whom he now met for the last time with
expressions of pretended love. It was no trifling sacrifice, which poor
Alwyn made on this occasion to the general welfare. To conceal the
feelings of his honest guileless heart; to dissemble love for one who
was totally indifferent to him; in many a rude tempestuous night to
encounter dangers, such as nothing but the most sincere and ardent
passion would have induced any other man to risk; and then at last to
throw aside the mask, and to hear himself called a betrayer and a
hypocrite, and called so with justice; this task was a most painful one,
and keenly did Alwyn feel that his situation was disgraceful. Yet he
thought, that even _this_ sacrifice was not too much to make for his
native land; and duty and patriotism made him submit to do that, which
was of all things the most cruel to his feelings, and repugnant to his
nature; they made him submit to play the hypocrite.
Silently lamenting the ignominious character which he was obliged to
sustain, Alwyn followed his supposed mistress to a retired chamber,
where (she told him) they should be secure from disturbance till
morning; for hitherto the fear of discovery had only suffered their
interviews to last for a few minutes. But at the moment when she
expected to receive the kiss of ardent love, and when she turned to her
lover after having carefully closed the door, to her utter astonishment
a gag was forced into her half-opened mouth; and then seizing her arms,
her supposed admirer fastened them with strong cords to the bed-posts.
It is true, that the general safety had been declared to require the
death of this wretched creature; but the noble heart of Alwyn revolted
at the idea. Even the precautions, which circumstances now made it
absolutely necessary for him to take, caused his cheeks to burn with
indignation against himself; he took care to confine Ursula’s hands in
such a way, that the pressure of the bonds could give her no pain; nor
could he resolve to leave even a creature, whom in his heart he
despised, a prey to absolute despair.
—“Fear nothing, Ursula,” said he in a gentle voice, while quitting the
room; “every thing shall be explained shortly, and on my soul no harm
shall happen to you”—a promise, which was religiously fulfilled.
Alwyn now hastened back to the battlements, and drew up the Count of
Torrenburg in the same manner, by which he had ascended himself; and
anxious as Eginhart was to fly to Amalberga’s assistance, still did he
not quit his station, till two more of the confederates were safely
landed on the platform of the Castle. These in their turn rendered the
same service to their companions, and a sufficient number were soon
mustered within the wails to authorize their proceeding to more
hazardous attempts. Half of them seized the sleeping sentinels, while
the rest without noise made the best of their way to the great gate.
They opened it, and the approach through the rock was soon made
practicable for the remainder of their friends, whom time had not
permitted to ascend in the bucket.
No slight expectations had been entertained by the Helvetians, that this
midnight attack would have made them masters of Rassburg, without its
costing them a single drop of blood; but they had miscounted the
strength of the garrison. Sufficient opposition was made to compel the
besiegers to purchase their conquest dearly. Many a brave Helvetian bit
the dust, and shared the grave of the enemy, who had just expired at his
feet. The dawn of morning discovered the walls of the Castle of the Rock
dyed with the blood both of friends and foes. By the time that the sun
was fully risen, the work was completed; Helvetia’s sons had achieved
their object, and the sheaths once more received their bloody swords.
The chiefs now employed themselves in giving orders and making
dispositions to preserve their conquest, while Torrenburg flew to
deliver his Amalberga. He found her in a stately chamber; she was on her
knees praying for _him_. The noise of the combat had roused her from
sleep; yet convinced that her situation could not alter for the worse,
she experienced no alarm for herself, till as the clash of arms
occasionally drew nearer to her chamber door, she heard the name of
Torrenburg shouted, and concluded, that he was among the combatants:
then _indeed_ she trembled, and sought refuge from her terrors in
supplication to her Patron-Saint. The heart of the pious girl was full
of confidence in the Divine justice: she doubted not, that the Ruler of
all things had decreed every thing for the best; she knew, that neither
herself nor Torrenburg had _merited_ to suffer, and she trusted, that
Heaven would act towards her with gentleness. In her supplications
therefore she rather spoke of the goodness of Providence, than implored
its help: or if she prayed for any thing, it was that a speedy stop
might be put to the shedding of blood, of whose flowing she was but too
well convinced by the clashing of arms, and the dying groans of some,
who were slaughtered at no great distance from her chamber.
A long and fearful silence now succeeded. Suddenly her door was thrown
open, and a knight in complete armour entered the room. He hastened
towards her, raised his visor, and well did she recollect the noble
countenance of him, whose portrait was engraved on her heart in
characters indelible: but she recollected also his engagements to Helen;
she was conscious of her danger and the weakness of her heart, and
attempted to force away the hand, which he had seized, and prest to his
lips with passion. It was long, before she recovered from her surprise
and confusion sufficiently to comprehend the whole extent of those
delightful views, which were now presented before her by indulgent
Fortune.
A Nun is but a sorry describer of love-scenes; and she, who traces this
narrative, though she may not perhaps have always been a stranger to
tender sentiments, still is unwilling to dwell longer than is necessary
upon those, which filled the heart of the happy Amalberga, when she sank
into her lover’s arms, and murmured—“Torrenburg, I am thine!”—I have
since been assured, that in these first moments of rapture the name of
Helen was not forgotten. In truth some trifling recollection, some
little portion of gratitude at least was due to the unfortunate, who to
procure the happiness of Amalberga and Torrenburg had not hesitated to
immolate her own. The sacrifice was indeed a most difficult and painful
one; but never did Helen once regret, that she had made it.
While the lovers forgot every thing in the contemplation of those
flattering prospects, which futurity showed them on all sides; and while
the Helvetians were employed in taking every possible precaution, that
might preserve to them the Fortress, of which they had so valiantly
obtained possession; the other Patriots (as had been previously
arranged) were carrying their glorious designs into execution in
different parts of the country.
Peregrine of Landenberg had reached Castle-Sarno before day-break. He
slept for a few hours, and then rose to welcome the day, which, he was
determined, should see him the husband of the Heiress of Sargans. He had
commanded, that towards evening a strong guard should conduct her
thither from Rassburg, when a Friar, belonging to the Abbot of St. Gall,
and who was entirely devoted to the Governor, had engaged to perform the
marriage ceremony between them: whether with her consent, or without it,
the good father cared but little.
Anxious to give as creditable an appearance as possible to this most
important transaction of his life, Landenberg thought it best for the
general edification to open the day’s business by walking in solemn
procession to the neighbouring church. For this purpose he was already
descending the great staircase accompanied by a numerous train of
courtiers, when he was informed, that the inhabitants of the adjacent
districts had assembled in the valley below, each bringing the
accustomed New-year’s offering.
Landenberg had great confidence in omens; he looked upon it as a pledge
of future good fortune, that before he had set his foot without the
Castle-walls, his course was impeded by presents. The procession to the
church was deferred for awhile: part of his attendants were sent to take
charge of the gifts, which had been brought to him; of the fatted oxen,
the corn, the fruit, the cloth woven by the skilful hands of the
industrious Helvetian housewives; the casks of wine; and here and there
a few bags of coin, which were not the least welcome part of the
offerings. In the mean while the Governor himself remained in the
front-court, attended by a few of his most confidential attendants, and
prepared for the reception of “the slaves of his servants,” as it was
usual for him to term the brave Helvetians.
The deputation arrived. It consisted of fifty persons, with Henric
Melthal at their head, Henric, on whose locks eighty winters had now
shed their snows.
—“Lord Governor,” said the venerable man, approaching Landenberg, “the
old year expired yesterday; the new one begins to-day. How you have
sustained the character of Imperial Majesty among the opprest children
of a free-born nation, that is _your_ affair. How we begin the new, is
_our’s_! Be God the judge between you and us, Peregrine of Landenberg;
God, who has already judged Gessler, as he will judge you! But as for
you, my sons, do as ye see me do, nor hesitate to lay down your lives in
the cause of liberty and justice.”—
It is inconceivable to me, how the daring old man was suffered to
proceed so far in his speech. The Almighty must have struck a panic into
the tyrant and his base dependents; but now recovering themselves, they
hastily drew their side-weapons, which (from being rather intended for
ornament than use, and able to do but little injury) were generally
called “holy-swords.” Some, who were unprovided with even these weak
instruments, hastened into the Castle in search of arms; in the mean
while old Melthal and his trusty companions had drawn concealed
pike-heads from under their cloaks, which they fixed dexterously and
with promptitude on the tops of their long white staves; and now was the
signal given for beginning a massacre, which once commenced was not
concluded hastily. Among the first who fell was the Governor. The feeble
arm of Henric Melthal, strengthened by Heaven and the justice of his
cause, gave the decisive blow; and Edmund Bloomberg hastened to
extricate his father-in-law from the crowd of those, who (now that they
were recovered from their first consternation) prest on him to destroy
the slayer of their chief. Landenberg cursed his fate, that he should
fall so disgracefully by the arm of a dotard, and poured out his last
breath in execrations. The combat became general. The Friends of Liberty
were attacked by the Governor’s remaining attendants, who were now
better armed; but this opposition was not of much avail, since at a
given signal a second party of Helvetians, who were in waiting on the
outside of the Castle, hastened to support their confederates.
The superiority of numbers being now on their side, the conquerors
proclaimed quarter in the name of Henric Melthal. The loss of their
chief had deprived the scanty band of his adherents of all their
courage: they were glad to sheathe their weapons, and the conquering
Helvetians took them under their protection, and conducted them
uninjured to the boundaries. The gallant men were unwilling to stain
their native soil with blood shed unnecessarily, and doubted not, that
such a barbarous measure would have induced the Almighty to withdraw his
blessing from their enterprise. They lost no time in taking measures for
maintaining themselves in the possession of Castle-Sarno. Towards
evening intelligence arrived, that Rassburg also had been attacked with
success, and during the three or four succeeding days similar tidings
were received from other parts of the country: Schwannau, Kussnach,
Zinguri (which was not yet finished) and many other places of
importance, had been wrested from the hands of Helvetia’s tyrants. Such
universal success testified, that the arm of the Protector of innocence
had fought in their cause; and they thought, the best means of showing
their gratitude for such powerful aid to him, who detests unnecessary
bloodshed, was to use their victory with mildness and moderation. They
had expelled their enemies, and reinstated themselves in their natural
rights: more they sought not, more they desired not; and it was this
laudable moderation, which, by preventing them from aiming to obtain
further advantages, enabled them to secure, what they had won already.
Peace after so long an absence returned once more to these happy
vallies; and a firm fraternal union for offence and defence was
established, which I pray, that God may grant to last, as long as the
world exists.
Has not the ignorant Nun suffered herself to be enticed out of her
proper sphere, while she described scenes of war and the efforts of
Liberty? She, a weak defenceless woman, a slave bound in lasting
fetters? Yet Heaven be thanked for it, those fetters are light: pious
submission enables me to bear them, and they will ere long be loosened
by the hand of Death.
Count Donat’s widow lived in tranquil seclusion at Zurich in the society
of the Countess Urania; and their prayers were frequently offered up for
the success of the honest Helvetians. They rejoiced to hear of their
victories, of Amalberga’s rescue, and of her union with the Count of
Torrenburg. But Helen did not wish to be herself a spectatress of their
felicity; nor (when shortly after their marriage the happy pair visited
her to express their mutual gratitude) could she be prevailed upon to
pass more than one hour in their society; and many, many of the
succeeding days were for her days of anguish. Poor Helen was but a weak
mortal, no saint, no angel: and alas! to _forget_ is a task not so easy,
as some may think!
Yet in recompence for her past sorrows Heaven had still reserved one
pleasure for her future life. Oh! Blessed Virgin, what a pleasure was
that! what a surprise! what an unexpected re-union!—But let me proceed
regularly.
The good Domina of Zurich was dead; the Princess Euphemia had already
been appointed Abbess of Tull, and therefore could not accept the vacant
dignity. No persuasion could induce Urania, at her advanced age, to fill
so laborious a situation, and the lot now fell upon Count Donat’s widow.
She obeyed the general voice, and was well-pleased to have a means for
exerting benevolence in a more extended circle. She became (what I say
of her ought not to be counted to her as a merit, since she did but her
duty) she became the mother of the opprest; and the man, who intrusted
to her a daughter, a sister, or a mistress, knew, that she could be no
where safer than in her arms. This was universally known; and many a
knight, before he set out on some distant expedition, secured under her
protection those treasures, which he valued dearer than all others,
which the world contained.
One day a knight requested an audience of her: as soon as she saw him,
it struck her, that his features were not altogether unknown to her.
—“Sir Knight,” said she, “it appears to me, that we have met before.”—
—“You say truly, holy mother,” answered he; “it was I, who by the Bishop
of Coira’s command took the Castle of Sargans by storm, and afterwards
conducted you to this Convent. Methinks, you placed but little
confidence in me on that occasion, though perhaps it would have been for
your advantage, had you shown more: but its true, you knew not my name;
knew not, that never had any one reason to repent the trust, which he
reposed in Herman of Werdenberg. I will not follow your example; I am
now preparing to reveal to you my dearest secrets, and solicit you to
become the guardian of my most precious treasure. Grief of heart some
time ago drove me from my native land: my uncle’s death necessitated my
return; and being once more in Germany, I suffered myself to be
persuaded to remain there: nay, under a borrowed name I consented to act
as the knight-protector of the new Bishop’s subjects, and to become the
assertor of his rights and privileges.
“It was in this capacity, that I became acquainted with you, Lady, in
the Castle of Sargans: report, and mysterious circumstances respecting
your conduct, I confess, had not prejudiced me in your favour; and
perhaps I did not treat you with so much respect and attention, as (I am
now well convinced) was justly due to your merits. After escorting you
hither, I returned to Sargans, being commissioned to defend the Castle
against Landenberg and his associates, in the name of Count Donat’s
daughters; whom the Bishop had adopted as his wards, and whom he
publicly declared his intention of reinstating in their rights, as soon
as the place of their concealment could be ascertained. It seems, the
rebellious Landenberg thought, that this was the fit time for making
himself master of all Rhœtia, while the Ten Jurisdictions were torn to
pieces by the tumults and confusion, to which his artifices had given
rise; but report must have already informed you, how soon those vain
hopes were crushed by the noble efforts of the assertors of Liberty.
“In order that I might not be quite idle during my undisturbed residence
at Sargans, the Bishop (who has no antipathy to gold) commissioned me to
enquire into the truth of an old tradition very current among the
people, that immense treasures lie buried in the foundation of that
antient fortress. Upon asking some questions, I was conducted to an old
and ruined well in a remote court, and assured that it contained wealth
inexhaustible. The Bishop on this report desired me to cause the well to
be cleared out; but its contents furnished nothing but venomous
reptiles, filth, and some human bones, the melancholy memorials of
former cruelties, whose commission Heaven no doubt had long since
punished.
“Other places were afterwards pointed out to me as the repository of
this buried wealth; but no better success attended their examination. At
length I resolved to set my workmen to clear out that subterraneous
passage, the falling-in of whose roof had so nearly proved your
destruction. It seemed to me much more probable, that I should find here
that of which I was in search, than in those places which I had already
examined; but it was my full determination, in case of discovering the
supposed treasures, not to give them up to the Bishop, but to reserve
them for the heiress of Carlsheim and Sargans, who had lately been
rescued from Landenberg’s power, and was now Countess of Torrenburg. It
was however less my object to find wealth which I despised, than to
furnish my followers with a harmless occupation, and by restoring the
concealed passage (which in our turbulent times is absolutely necessary
in every fortress) to render a trifling service to posterity. The work
was difficult and tedious; however, I was just rejoicing in the
reflection, that a few days would suffice to finish it, when the Bishop
of Coira found it impossible to delay any longer with common decency the
restoring of Sargans to the Countess Amalberga and her husband. One
branch of the passage alone remained in ruins, and I would gladly have
completed my task; but Count Eginhart was already at the gates of
Sargans. I hastened to deliver up every thing, which had been committed
to my custody, and we renewed our former friendship; a friendship, which
in the earlier part of our lives had been most intimate.
“It was my intention to request his permission to finish the repairs of
the subterraneous caverns: unluckily, as we sat conversing together, and
recalling the events of former days over our flowing goblets, he
mentioned the sister of his bride, who had once made upon my heart a
very forcible impression; but my passion was not strong enough to make
me consent to commit my honour to the keeping of a daughter of Count
Donat. The Count painted in glowing colours the happiness, which he
enjoyed with Amalberga; and he finally accused me of having treated the
Lady Emmeline unworthily, and of having driven her into the jaws of
perdition by my rigour and contempt. As her relations have always wrapt
in mystery the latter scenes of Emmeline’s life, I am even at this
moment ignorant, as to what is become of Her, who was once so dear to
me; nor could I understand, to what the Count alluded in the conclusion
of his speech. I could not, however, allow, that I had acted by her with
injustice, and asserted, with that warmth which is natural to me, that
no man of prudence and honour would have acted otherwise. Our
conversation grew bitter; and at length we parted in such anger, that it
was impossible for me to submit to asking of him as a favour, that I
might prosecute my subterraneous labours.
“Perhaps you will be surprised at my being so anxious about such a
trifle, as the repairs of these vaults; I must therefore confess to you,
that the real motive of my wish to examine this passage thoroughly, was
nothing more than a dream; but that dream was in truth a very remarkable
one.