WILLIAM TELL
Many hundreds of years ago, at the end of the Thirteenth Century to be
exact, in the country that is now Switzerland, there lived a Swiss
hunter and herdsman named William Tell. He lived in the little town of
Burglen among the mountains, and with him lived his wife and his two
sons, who, when this story opens, were about ten and twelve years old.
William Tell was so strong that his name was known far and wide; he was
so skilful a hunter that nothing seemed ever to escape his keen arrow
when once it was on the wing; he was so venturesome a mountain climber
that the steepest precipice was not too dangerous for him; and with all
these great abilities he had a kindly disposition and was liked as well
as admired by his neighbors.
William Tell had won more than one prize at the fairs and competitions
that were sometimes held near his town; on one occasion he had shot a
small bird on the wing with his sure arrow, for the bullseye of the
target had seemed too large for him. And so it came to pass that when
his neighbors revolted from the foreign yoke that Austria had thrown
over Switzerland Tell was one of the first to be called on by the
patriots who desired to free their country.
Switzerland was not a single country in those days, but was divided
into the three cantons or districts of Schwyz (from which it takes its
present name) Uri and Unterwalden. The Austrians had nominally governed
the country for a long time without any dissent on the part of the
Swiss people, for the Austrian ruler, named Adolph, had treated them
extremely well and allowed them to keep their ancestral rights and
customs.
Then, however, the Hapsburg Emperor, Albrecht, came to the throne; and
discontent and misery were soon apparent in the Swiss cantons. For the
new monarch did not follow the policy of the former king, but sent
cruel governors to rule over the honest Swiss, with secret orders to
oppress them in many ways until their love of liberty, for which they
had always been famous, might be destroyed.
All the time that these changes were taking place, William Tell went
quietly about his affairs. He looked after his herds and hunted in the
mountains, while his wife, Hedwig, saw to his house and brought up his
two boys, William and Walter. He had everything to make him happy--a
clean and well ordered home on the side of the mountain, a devoted
wife, two manly boys, and a herd of cattle that included the most
beautiful cow for miles around. This cow was named Hifeli, and wore a
sweet toned bell about her neck.
Driving a cow over the mountain paths was a difficult and dangerous
undertaking, and one that Tell had never entrusted to either of his
children, but as his son William seemed to be able and venturesome he
was allowed one day as a great pleasure to drive Hifeli and her calf up
to the mountain pasture. The way led along the side of a cliff, and in
one place it was so narrow that only a few inches separated those on
the path from a terrific gulf so deep that the clouds sometimes hid the
trees below it.
While the boy was driving Hifeli over this place, with a sudden rush a
fierce eagle swooped down to attack the calf, beating the air with its
wings to drive the calf to the edge of the precipice,--and although the
lad struck at the bird of prey with his mountain staff until the air
was filled with feathers it was to no avail. The calf plunged over the
ledge and was dashed to death on the rocks beneath, where the eagle
descended and promptly reappeared flying heavily away, bearing the dead
body of the calf in its claws. But this was not all the trouble that
young Tell was to undergo, for the cow lurched toward the edge of the
precipice and sought some way to descend to the spot where she believed
the body of her calf had fallen, and try as he would young Tell could
not get her away from the spot or drive her back to her stall.
So he tied Hifeli to a tree and went in search of his father to whom he
told the misfortune that had befallen him. Whereupon father and son
went in search of the eagle and the elder Tell slew it with an arrow
from his crossbow. And on this trip he taught his son to show no fear
of the high precipices they had to skirt or of the gulfs that had to be
crossed by fallen trees. And from that time on he instructed his son to
avoid the least sign of fear which later saved both their lives in a
curious manner.
There was nothing that Tell hated more than the Austrian rule under the
tyrannical governors who were sent to oppress the Swiss, and he engaged
in opposing them first of all.
One of the Swiss named Wolfshot had treacherously deserted his
countrymen and joined the Austrian cause, for which he was rewarded by
the Emperor and given a position under the Austrian Governor. In this
position he did all that he could to annoy his neighbors and frequently
insulted the Swiss women.
On one occasion Wolfshot tried to make love to the wife of a Swiss
peasant named Baumgarten who was an honest as well as a brave man. She
ran to her husband for protection and Baumgarten in great anger went to
the room where Wolfshot was staying and slew him with an ax. Then,
taking horse, he fled for his life pursued by the Austrian guards.
Baumgarten came to the shores of Lake Zurich and would have crossed the
lake to safety, but a terrible wind called the Fohn was blowing and the
waves of the lake rolled so high that escape by water seemed
impossible. The horsemen were close at Baumgarten's heels, and he
begged the ferryman to take him across the water in spite of the
danger, but to no avail. The ferryman replied that he would not venture
out on the lake in that storm to save the life of any one, for it was
impossible for any boat to live in the sea that was raging there. But
William Tell was present, and seeing that Baumgarten would soon be
captured by the Austrians he ran with him to the ferryboat and pushed
off just as the Austrians rode up to the shore. The boat was tossed
about like a cork, but still it lived under the powerful strokes of
Tell, who was skilful above all others with the oar; and the Austrians
were forced to go back to their castle without their prisoner, bitterly
angry at Tell for having helped the fugitive to escape them.
This was soon brought to the ears of the new Governor named Gessler who
determined that he would entrap Tell into committing some other act by
which he could be imprisoned and put to death. To accomplish this
purpose Gessler conceived the design of placing a cap with the royal
arms of Austria upon it in the midst of the public square of the town
of Altdorf, where Tell frequently came, and of ordering all people to
bow before it as if this cap were the Emperor of Austria himself.
Great was the anger felt by the Swiss when they heard of this infamous
design on Gessler's part--but how much more when the cap was actually
taken to the public square by a force of heavily armed soldiers and a
proclamation was read ordering all who saw it to salute it on pain of
whatever penalty the Governor saw fit to impose!
Now Tell happened to be in Altdorf at this very time with his little
son William; and in order to avoid saluting this hated emblem, he left
town earlier than he had planned and by a street where he thought he
would not see the cap or encounter any of the Austrians who had come to
Altdorf to see that the Governor's order was enforced. As luck would
have it, however, Tell walked right into the square where the cap had
been placed and came right upon it before he noticed it. And several
Austrian men at arms stood near it.
Without a word, leading his little son by the hand, Tell strode past
the cap without bowing his head--and was at once stopped by the
soldiers who told him he was under arrest for defying the Governor's
order and made ready to take him before Gessler for trial. But Gessler
himself had seen all this and was so eager to punish Tell that he did
not wait for the soldiers to come to him, but with his servants and
retainers hastened out into the square.
Gessler knew Tell by sight and spoke to him by name.
"What does this mean, Tell?" he demanded. "Have you not heard that this
cap represents the Emperor and is to be saluted by all that pass it?"
"Aye, your Lordship," answered Tell.
"And so you propose to add defiance of my person to your other crime?"
said the Governor. "I have you in my power now and you shall pay a dear
penalty. All the more dearly shall you pay because you go about the
streets armed with your crossbow at your side."
"My bow is used for hunting, your Lordship," said Tell proudly, "a
right that all free men possess and have possessed from the very
earliest times."
"I'll curb your right and your talk of freedom," said Gessler fiercely.
"Yonder is your son. Now harken to your punishment. Take your bow and
shoot an apple from the child's head."
Now the Governor never thought that Tell could hit so difficult a mark,
and Tell himself, good shot as he was, quailed at shooting at so small
a target, when the slightest slip would cause him to kill his beloved
son. And he begged the Governor to take his property if he would or to
do what he chose to his person, but to spare an innocent boy who had
done no harm or wrong of any kind.
Gessler, however, was inexorable, and he mocked Tell with the utmost
cruelty, telling him that such a mark should be easy for one whose fame
as a bowman had traveled through all Switzerland, as Tell's had done.
"And mark well my words," said Gessler. "See that you hit the apple,
for if you miss it, even by a hair's breadth, then you shall die and
the boy with you."
A groan went through the crowd that had assembled as Gessler spoke
these words. But young William himself was not afraid and went bravely
to the tree where he was to stand and with his own hand put the apple
on his head.
"Shoot, father, why do you hesitate?" he cried. "Well do I know that
you will hit the apple."
With a shudder Tell took his crossbow and drew two arrows from his
quiver. Then holding his breath he aimed at the living mark.
The bowstring twanged. The arrow, like a flash of lightning, split the
apple in two halves and imbedded itself in the tree trunk. Tell had
triumphed and the deed was accomplished. Turning to Gessler and taking
his boy by the hand Tell asked leave to go his way, now that his order
had been obeyed.
But Gessler was determined to slay Tell and was only seeking some
pretext for getting him into his power.
"Not so fast," said the crafty governor, while he eyed the bow with
which Tell had so bravely performed the cruel operation. "Tell me, my
shrewd archer, who does not hesitate to aim at his own flesh and blood,
why did you draw two arrows from your quiver instead of one?"
Tell drew himself to his full height and, captive as he was, the
Governor quailed beneath his glance.
"The second arrow was for _you_ in case I had struck my son!" said Tell
fiercely. "If so much as a drop of his blood had been drawn, my second
bolt would have been lodged in your false heart."
"Bind him!" shouted Gessler, overjoyed that Tell had delivered himself
into his hands. "In my own castle it shall be decided what sort of
death and torture he shall suffer." And with Tell led between two
horsemen the Governor's retinue went to the shore of the lake to cross
to the castle where he made his home.
When the boat was well out in the lake, however, the same terrible wind
that so often blew upon its waters arose with the swiftness of a
thunderclap and threatened to overwhelm them all. Tell lay bound in the
boat, calmly watching what he could see of the storm, when one of the
Governor's servants told him that Tell himself was the most skilful
boatman in that part of the country and the only one who could save
them from the waves that threatened each minute to swamp them.
At this Tell's bonds were cut and he was ordered by the Governor to
take his place at the helm and guide the boat to shore, and Gessler
added that if he brought it safely in it would serve to lessen the
punishment that he planned to inflict upon him.
Tell did as he was ordered and took the tiller. And by his skilful
guidance the craft gradually drew near to shore.
But Tell had planned shrewdly as he guided the boat and he gradually
drew it toward a ledge of rock that was greatly feared by all the
boatmen of the lake. When the boat was directly beneath the rock Tell
waited until a wave flung the boat on high and seizing his crossbow and
arrows he sprang from the gunwale, landed on the rock and disappeared
into the forest.
Gessler was enraged at Tell's escape, but he and his party had all they
could do to save their lives from the fury of the lake. At last, more
by luck than skill, they drew the craft into smoother waters and he and
his retinue were saved.
Tell, however, had formed a stern purpose while fleeing through the
forest. He knew that his own life and that of his son and perhaps of
his entire family would be lost if Gessler lived, for the Governor
would certainly send soldiers to take and slay him. So Tell resolved to
slay the governor with the same crossbow with which he had shot the
apple from his son's head.
He waited in the woods on the edge of a ravine through which Gessler
must pass on the way to his castle at Kussnacht, for no other way led
there; and when the Governor's escort finally appeared, Tell aimed his
bow, the arrow hissed from the string and imbedded itself squarely in
Gessler's heart. The deed was accomplished surely and with skill, and
the Swiss would suffer no more from the heavy hand of the tyrant
Gessler.
This act rang through Switzerland, and everywhere people were soon in
revolt against the power of Austria. And the ultimate result of the
action of William Tell was in the end the freedom of the Swiss people
from the oppression of Austria. And throughout Switzerland the name of
William Tell is revered to this day and there are statues in his honor,
while many a legend has been born in his name and many a great writer
has celebrated his deeds.