the people of the Cid were busied in making ready their arms, and in
loading beasts with all that they had, so that they left nothing of
any price in the whole city of Valencia, save only the empty houses.
When it was midnight they took the body of the Cid, fastened to the
saddle as it was, and placed it upon his horse Bavieca, and fastened
the saddle well; and the body sat so upright and well that it seemed
as if he was alive. And it had on painted hose of black and white, so
cunningly painted that no man who saw them would have thought but that
they were greaves and cuishes, unless he had laid his hand upon them;
and they put on it a surcoat of green sendal, having his arms blazoned
thereon, and a helmet of parchment, which was cunningly painted that
every one might have believed it to be iron; and his shield was hung
round his neck, and they placed the sword Tizona in his hand, and they
raised his arm, and fastened it up so subtilely that it was a marvel
to see how upright he held the sword. And the Bishop Don Hieronymo
went on one side of him, and the trusty Gil Diaz on the other, and he
led the horse Bavieca, as the Cid had commanded him. And when all this
had been made ready, they went out from Valencia at midnight, through
the gate of Roseros, which is towards Castile. Pero Bermudez went
first with the banner of the Cid, and with him five hundred knights
who guarded it, all well appointed. And after these came all the
baggage. Then came the body of the Cid, with an hundred knights, all
chosen men, and behind them Dona Ximena with all her company, and six
hundred knights in the rear. All these went out so silently, and with
such a measured pace, that it seemed as if there were only a score.
And by the time that they had all gone out it was broad day.
Now Alvar Fañez Minaya had set the host in order, and while the Bishop
Don Hieronymo and Gil Diaz led away the body of the Cid, and Dona
Ximena, and the baggage, he fell upon the Moors. First he attacked the
tents of that Moorish queen the negress, who lay nearest to the city;
and this onset was so sudden, that they killed full a hundred and
fifty Moors before they had time to take arms or go to horse. But that
Moorish negress was so skilful in drawing the Turkish bow, that it
was held for a marvel; and it is said that they called her in Arabic
_Nugueymat Turya_, which is to say, the Star of the Archers. And she
was the first that got on horseback, and with some fifty that were
with her, did some hurt to the company of the Cid; but in fine they
slew her, and her people fled to the camp. And so great was the uproar
and confusion, that few there were who took arms, but instead thereof
they turned their backs and fled toward the sea. And when King Bucar
and his kings saw this, they were astonished. And it seemed to them
that there came against them on the part of the Christians full
seventy thousand knights, all as white as snow: and before them a
knight of great stature upon a white horse with a bloody cross, who
bore in one hand a white banner, and in the other a sword which seemed
to be of fire, and he made a great mortality among the Moors who were
flying. And King Bucar and the other kings were so greatly dismayed
that they never checked the reins till they had ridden into the sea;
and the company of the Cid rode after them, smiting and slaying
and giving them no respite; and they smote down so many that it
was marvelous, for the Moors did not turn their heads to defend
themselves. And when they came to the sea, so great was the press
among them to get to the ships, that more than ten thousand died in
the water. And of the six and thirty kings, twenty and two were slain.
And King Bucar and they who escaped with him hoisted sails and went
their way, and never more turned their heads.
Alvar Fañez and his people, when they had discomfited the Moors,
spoiled the field, and the spoil thereof was so great that they could
not carry it away. And they loaded camels and horses with the noblest
things which they found, and went after the Bishop Don Hieronymo and
Gil Diaz, who, with the body of the Cid, and Doña Ximena, and the
baggage, had gone on till they were clear of the host, and then waited
for those who were gone against the Moors. And so great was the spoil
of that day, that there was no end to it: and they took up gold, and
silver, and other precious things as they rode through the camp, so
that the poorest man among the Christians, horseman or on foot, became
rich with what he won that day.
HERO OF SWITZERLAND
WILLIAM TELL
ADAPTED BY H.E. MARSHALL
I
GESSLER'S TYRANNY
Far away in the heart of Europe there lies a little country called
Switzerland. It seems wonderful that when great and powerful kings
and princes swept over the world, fighting and conquering, little
Switzerland should not have been conquered and swallowed up by one
or other of the great countries which lay around. But the Swiss have
always been a brave and fearless people.
At one time one of the great princes of Europe tried to conquer
Switzerland and take away the freedom of its people. But the people
fought so bravely that instead of being conquered they conquered the
tyrants and drove them away.
In those far-off times the greatest ruler in Europe was the Emperor,
and his empire was divided into many states, over each of which ruled
a prince or king who acknowledged the Emperor as overlord. When an
Emperor died the kings and princes met together and chose another
Emperor from among their number.
Switzerland was one of the countries which owned the Emperor as
overlord. But the Swiss were a free people. They had no king or prince
over them, but a governor only, who was appointed by the Emperor.
Austria was another of the states of the great empire, and at one time
a Duke of Austria was made ruler of Switzerland. Because of its great
beauty, this duke cast greedy eyes upon Switzerland and longed to
possess it for his very own.
But the Swiss would not give up their freedom; and three cantons, as
the divisions of Switzerland are called, joined together, and swore to
stand by each other, and never to submit to Austria.
Uri, Schwyz, and Unterwalden were the names of these three cantons. A
little later another canton joined the three. These four cantons lie
round a lake which is called the Lake of the four Forest Cantons. When
Albrecht, Duke of Austria was chosen Emperor he said to himself that
now truly he would be lord and master of Switzerland. So he sent two
nobles to the Swiss to talk to them, and persuade them to own him as
their king.
Some of the people of Switzerland were persuaded to belong to Austria,
but all the people of the free cantons replied that they wished to
remain free.
So the messengers went back to Albrecht and told him what the
people said. When he heard the message he was very angry. "The proud
peasants," he cried, "they will not yield. Then I will bend and break
them. They will be soft and yielding enough when I have done with
them."
Months went by and the Emperor appointed no ruler over Switzerland.
At last the people, feeling that they must have a governor, sent
messengers to the Emperor, begging him to appoint a ruler, as all
the Emperors before him had done. "A governor you shall have." said
Albrecht. "Go home and await his coming. Whom I send to you, him you
must obey in all things."
When they had gone, Albrecht smiled grimly to himself. "They will not
yield," he said, "but I will oppress them and ill-treat them until I
force them to rebel. Then I will fight against them and conquer them,
and at last Switzerland will be mine."
A few days later Albrecht made his friends Hermann Gessler and
Beringer of Landenberg governors over the free cantons, telling them
to take soldiers with them to enforce the law and to tax the people in
order to pay the soldiers. "You will punish all wrong-doers severely,"
he said, "I will endure no rebels within my empire."
Hard and bitter days began when Gessler and Landenberg settled there.
They delighted in oppressing the people. They loaded them with taxes;
nothing could be either bought or sold but the governors claimed a
great part of the money; the slightest fault was punished with long
imprisonment and heavy fines. The people became sad and downcast, but
still they would not yield to Austria.
Gessler lived in a great castle at Küssnacht in Schwyz. In it were
dreadful dungeons where he imprisoned the people and tortured them
according to his wicked will. But he was not pleased to have only one
castle, and he made up his mind to build another in Uri. So he began
to build one near the little town of Altorf, which lay at the other
end of the Lake of the Forest Cantons. Gessler forced the men of Uri
to build this castle, and he meant to use it not only as a house for
himself, but as a prison for the people.
"What will you call your castle?" asked a friend one day, as they
stood to watch the building. "I will call it the Curb of Uri," said
Gessler, with a cruel laugh, "for with it I will curb the proud spirit
of these peasants." After watching the work for some time, Gessler and
his friend rode away. "My friend," said Gessler, as he rode, "we will
go back to Kiissnacht by another way. I have heard that an insolent
peasant called Werner Stauffacher has built himself a new house. I
wish to see it. There is no end to the impudence of these peasants."
"But what will you do?" asked his friend. "Do" said Gessler, "why,
turn him out, to be sure. What need have these peasants for great
houses?" So they rode on to Stauffacher's house. "Whose house is
this?" he demanded. Stauffacher answered quietly, "My lord, this house
belongs to the Emperor, and is yours and mine in fief to hold and use
for his service." "I rule this land," said Gessler, "in the name of
the Emperor, and I will not allow peasants to build houses without
asking leave. I will have you understand that." And he rode from the
doorway. Stauffacher told his wife what had happened and she advised
him to call a secret meeting of his friends to plan to free themselves
from the governor's rule.
Werner Stauffacher spent some days in going from village to village,
trying to find out how the peasants and common people felt, and
everywhere heard complaints and groans. Coming to Altorf, where his
friend Walter Fürst lived, he heard in the market-place a great noise
of shouting and trampling of feet.
Down the street a party of Austrian soldiers came marching. One of
them carried a long pole, and another a red cap with a peacock's
feather in it. Then the pole with the red cap on the top of it was
firmly planted in the ground.
As soon as the pole was set up a herald stepped out, blew his trumpet
and cried, "Se ye this cap here set up? It is his Majesty's will and
commandment that ye do all bow the knee and bend the head as ye do
pass it by."
This was a new insult to a free people. Stauffacher went to the house
of Walter Fürst, where he met Arnold of Melchthal, who had suffered
much from Landenberg. Calling upon God and his saints, these three men
swore a solemn oath to protect each other and promised to meet in a
little meadow called the Rütli, the Wednesday before Martinmas.
Three weeks passed, and in the darkness and quiet the men stole to the
place of meeting with other friends of freedom whom they had brought.
Near Walter Fürst stood a young man straight and tall with clear and
honest eyes. "William Tell," said Arnold, "and the best shot in all
Switzerland. I have seen him shoot an apple from a tree a hundred
paces off."
Then they swore never to betray each other, to be true to the Emperor,
but to drive the Austrian governor, his friends, his servants, and his
soldiers out of the land.
II
WILLIAM TELL AND HIS GREAT SHOT
William Tell did not live in Altorf, but in another village some
way off, called Bürglen. His wife, who was called Hedwig, was Walter
Fürst's daughter. Tell and Hedwig had two sons, William and Walter.
Walter, the younger, was about six years old.
William Tell loved his wife and his children very much, and they all
lived happily together in a pretty little cottage at Bürglen.
"Hedwig," said Tell one morning, some days after the meeting mentioned
above, "I am going into Altorf to see your father."
Hedwig looked troubled. "Do be careful, William," she said. "Must you
really go? You know the governor is there just now, and he hates you."
"Oh, I am quite safe," said Tell; "I have done nothing for which he
could punish me. But I will keep out of his way," and he lifted his
crossbow and prepared to go.
"Do not take your bow," said Hedwig, still feeling uneasy. "Leave it
here."
"Why, Hedwig, how you trouble yourself for nothing," said Tell,
smiling at her. "Why should I leave my bow behind? I feel lost without
it."
"O father, where are you going?" said Walter, running into the room at
this minute.
"I am going to Altorf to see grandfather. Would you like to come?"
"Oh, may I? May I, mother?"
"Yes, dear, if you like," said Hedwig. "And you will be careful, won't
you?" she added, turning to Tell.
"Yes, I will," he replied, and Walter, throwing his arms round her
neck, said, "It's all right, mother, I will take care of father." Then
they set off merrily together.
It was a great thing to go to Altorf with father, and Walter was
so happy that he chattered all the way, asking questions about
everything.
"How far can you shoot, father?"
"Oh, a good long way."
"As high as the sun?" asked Walter, looking up at it.
"Oh dear, no, not nearly so high as that."
"Well, how high? As high as the snow-mountains?"
"Oh no."
"Why is there always snow on the mountains, father?" asked Walter,
thinking of something else. And so he went on, asking questions
about one thing after another, until his father was quite tired of
answering.
Walter was chattering so much that Tell forgot all about the hat upon
the pole, and, instead of going round by another way to avoid it, as
he had meant to do, he went straight through the market-place to reach
Walter Fürst's house.
"Father, look," said Walter, "look, how funny! there is a hat stuck up
on a pole. What is it for?"
"Don't look, Walter," said Tell, "the hat has nothing to do with us,
don't look at it." And taking Walter by the hand, he led him hurriedly
away.
But it was too late. The soldier, who stood beside the pole to guard
it and see that people bowed in passing, pointed his spear at Tell and
bade him stop. "Stand, in the Emperor's name," he cried.
"Let be, friend," said Tell, "let me past."
"Not till you obey the Emperor's command. Not till you bow to the
hat."
"It is no command of the Emperor," said Tell. "It is Gessler's folly
and tyranny. Let me go."
"Nay, but you must not speak of my lord the governor in such terms.
And past you shall not go until you bow to the cap. And, if you bow
not, to prison I will lead you. Such is my lord's command."
"Why should I bow to a cap?" said Tell, his voice shaking with rage.
"Were the Emperor himself here, then would I bend the knee and bow my
head to him with all reverence. But to a hat! Never!" and he tried
to force his way past Heinz the soldier. But Heinz would not let him
pass, and kept his spear pointed at Tell.
Hearing loud and angry voices, many people gathered to see what the
cause might be. Soon there was quite a crowd around the two. Every one
talked at once, and the noise and confusion were great. Heinz tried
to take Tell prisoner, and the people tried to take him away. "Help!
help!" shouted Heinz, hoping that some of his fellow-soldiers would
hear him and come to his aid,--"Help, help! treason, treason!"
Then over all the noise of the shouting there sounded the tramp of
horses' hoofs and the clang and jangle of swords and armor.
"Room for the governor. Room, I say," cried a herald.
The shouting ceased and the crowd silently parted, as Gessler, richly
dressed, haughty and gloomy, rode through it, followed by a gay
company of his friends and soldiers. He checked his horse and, gazing
angrily round the crowd, "What is this rioting?" he asked.
"My lord," said Heinz, stepping forward, "this scoundrel here will not
bow to the cap, according to your lordship's command."
"Eh, what?" said Gessler, his dark face growing more dark and angry
still. "Who dares to disobey my orders?"
"'Tis William Tell of Bürglen, my lord."
"Tell?" said Gessler, turning in his saddle and looking at Tell as he
stood among the people, holding little Walter by the hand.
There was silence for a few minutes while Gessler gazed at Tell in
anger.
"I hear you are a great shot, Tell," said Gessler at last, laughing
scornfully, "they say you never miss."
"That is quite true," said little Walter eagerly, for he was very
proud of his father's shooting. "He can hit an apple on a tree a
hundred yards off."
"Is that your boy?" said Gessler, looking at him with an ugly smile.
"Yes, my lord."
"Have you other children?"
"Another boy, my lord."
"You are very fond of your children, Tell?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Which of them do you love best?"
Tell hesitated. He looked down at little Walter with his rosy cheeks
and curly hair. Then he thought of William at home with his pretty
loving ways. "I love them both alike, my lord," he said at last.
"Ah," said Gessler, and thought a minute. "Well, Tell," he said after
a pause. "I have heard so much of this boast of yours about hitting
apples, that I should like to see something of it. You shall shoot an
apple off your boy's head at a hundred yards' distance. That will be
easier than shooting off a tree."
"My lord," said Tell, turning pale, "you do not mean that? It is
horrible. I will do anything rather than that."
"You will shoot an apple off your boy's head," repeated Gessler in a
slow and scornful voice. "I want to see your wonderful skill, and I
command you to do it at once. You have your crossbow there. Do it."
"I will die first," said Tell.
"Very well," said Gessler, "but you need not think in that way to save
your boy. He shall die with you. Shoot, or die both of you. And, mark
you, Tell, see that you aim well, for if you miss you will pay for it
with your life."
Tell turned pale. His voice trembled as he replied, "My lord, it was
but thoughtlessness. Forgive me this once, and I will always bow to
the cap in future." Proud and brave although he was, Tell could not
bear the thought that he might kill his own child.
"Have done with this delay," said Gessler, growing yet more angry.
"You break the laws, and when, instead of punishing you as you
deserve, I give you a chance of escape, you grumble and think yourself
hardly used. Were peasants ever more unruly and discontented? Have
done, I say. Heinz, bring me an apple."
The soldier hurried away.
"Bind the boy to that tree," said Gessler, pointing to a tall
lime-tree near by.
Two soldiers seized Walter and bound him fast to the tree. He was
not in the least afraid, but stood up against the trunk straight and
quiet. Then, when the apple was brought, Gessler rode up to him and,
bending from the saddle, himself placed the apple upon his head.
All this time the people crowded round silent and wondering, and Tell
stood among them as if in a dream, watching everything with a look of
horror in his eyes.
"Clear a path there," shouted Gessler, and the soldiers charged among
the people, scattering them right and left.
When a path had been cleared, two soldiers, starting from the tree to
which Walter was bound, marched over the ground, measuring one hundred
paces, and halted. "One hundred paces, my lord," they said, turning to
Gessler.
Gessler rode to the spot, calling out, "Come, Tell, from here you
shall shoot."
Tell took his place. He drew an arrow from his quiver, examined it
carefully, and then, instead of fitting it to his bow, he stuck it in
his belt. Then, still carefully, he chose another arrow and fitted it
to his bow.
A deep silence fell upon every one as Tell took one step forward. He
raised his bow. A mist was before his eyes, his arm trembled, his bow
dropped from his hand. He could not shoot. The fear that he might kill
his boy took away all his skill and courage.
A groan broke from the people as they watched. Then from far away
under the lime-tree came Walter's voice, "Shoot, father, I am not
afraid. You cannot miss."
Once more Tell raised his bow. The silence seemed deeper than ever.
The people of Altorf knew and loved Tell, and Fürst, and little
Walter. And so they watched and waited with heavy hearts and anxious
faces.
"Ping!" went the bowstring. The arrow seemed to sing through the
frosty air, and, a second later, the silence was broken by cheer after
cheer. The apple lay upon the ground pierced right through the center.
One man sprang forward and cut the rope with which Walter was bound to
the tree; another picked up the apple and ran with it to Gessler. But
Tell stood still, his bow clutched in his hand, his body bent forward,
his eyes wild and staring, as if he were trying to follow the flight
of the arrow. Yet he saw nothing, heard nothing.
"He has really done it!" exclaimed Gessler in astonishment, as he
turned the apple round and round in his hand. "Who would have thought
it? Right in the center, too."
Little Walter, quite delighted, came running to his father. "Father,"
he cried, "I knew you could do it. I knew you could, and I was not a
bit afraid. Was it not splendid?" and he laughed and pressed his curly
head against his father.
Then suddenly Tell seemed to wake out of his dream, and taking Walter
in his arms he held him close, kissing him again and again. "You are
safe, my boy. You are safe," was all he said. But strong man though
he was his eyes were full of tears, and he was saying to himself, "I
might have killed him. I might have killed my own boy."
Meanwhile Gessler sat upon his horse watching them with a cruel smile
upon his wicked face. "Tell," he said at last, "that was a fine shot,
but for what was the other arrow?"
Tell put Walter down and, holding his hand, turned to Gessler, "It is
always an archer's custom, my lord, to have a second arrow ready," he
said.
"Nay, nay," said Gessler, "that answer will not do, Tell. Speak the
truth."
Tell was silent.
"Speak, man," said Gessler, "and if you speak the truth, whatever it
may be, I promise you your life."
"Then," said Tell, throwing his shoulders back and looking straight at
Gessler, "since you promise me my life, hear the truth, if that first
arrow had struck my child, the second one was meant for you, and be
sure I had not missed my mark a second time."
Gessler's face grew dark with rage. For a moment or two he could not
speak. When at last he did speak, his voice was low and terrible, "You
dare," he said, "you dare to tell me this! I promised you your life
indeed. Your life you shall have, but you shall pass it in a dark and
lonely prison, where neither sun nor moon shall send the least glimmer
of light. There you shall lie, so that I may be safe from you. Ah,
my fine archer, your bows and arrows will be of little use to you
henceforth. Seize him, men, and bind him, lest he do murder even now."
In a moment the soldiers sprang forward, and Tell was seized and
bound.
As Gessler sat watching them, he looked round at all the angry faces
of the crowd. "Tell has too many friends here," he said to himself.
"If I imprison him in the Curb of Uri, they may find some way to help
him to escape. I will take him with me in my boat to Klissnacht. There
he can have no friends. There he will be quite safe." Then aloud he
said, "Follow me, my men. Bring him to the boat."
As he said these words, there was a loud murmur from the crowd. "That
is against the law," cried many voices.
"Law, law?" growled Gessler. "Who makes the law, you or I?"
Walter Fürst had been standing among the crowd silent and anxious. Now
he stepped forward and spoke boldly. "My lord," he said, "it has ever
been a law among the Swiss that no one shall be imprisoned out of his
own canton. If my son-in-law, William Tell, has done wrong, let him be
tried and imprisoned here, in Uri, in Altorf. If you do otherwise you
wrong our ancient freedom and rights."
"Your freedom! your rights!" said Gessler roughly. "I tell you, you
are here to obey the laws, not to teach me how I shall rule." Then
turning his horse and calling out, "On, men, to the boat with him," he
rode towards the lake, where, at a little place called Fliielen, his
boat was waiting for him.
But Walter clung to his father, crying bitterly. Tell could not take
him in his arms to comfort him, for his hands were tied. But he bent
over him to kiss him, saying, "Little Walter, little Walter, be brave.
Go with thy grandfather and comfort thy mother."
So Tell was led to Gessler's boat, followed by the sorrowing people.
Their hearts were full of hot anger against the tyrant. Yet what could
they do? He was too strong for them.
Tell was roughly pushed into the boat, where he sat closely guarded on
either side by soldiers. His bow and arrows, which had been taken from
him, were thrown upon a bench beside the steersman.
Gessler took his seat. The boat started, and was soon out on the blue
water of the lake. As the people of Altorf watched Tell go, their
hearts sank. They had not known, until they saw him bound and a
prisoner, how much they had trusted and loved him.
III
THE ESCAPE OF WILLIAM TELL