injury of the people, they added to the wrong by bitter taunts. To Werner de Stauffacher, one of the principal inhabitants of Schwytz, Gessler remarked in an insulting tone: That his house was too good for a slavish peasant.' The observation was treasured up, and yielded bitter fruits to the utterer. Nor was Landenberg behind his coadjutor. When he had wrested from some unfortunate farmers their oxen and beasts of burden, he replied to their remonstrances by telling them, That if they wanted to grow corn and till their lands, they might draw the plough themselves!'

The minds of the Swiss were exasperated at this treatment, but still their spirit was kept down by reflecting upon the enormous power wielded by their oppressor. But Werner Stauffacher, stung by his country's wrongs and his individual degradation, secretly visited Walter Fürst, of the canton of Uri, who, calling to their counsel Arnold de Melchthald of Unterwalden, the patriotism of each was influenced by mutual exhortations, and an agreement entered into, to vindicate their country's rights, or perish in the attempt. The future meetings of these resolute men were held in the field of Rutli, a desolate spot on the borders of the Waldstatter Lake, and near the confines of Uri and Unterwalden. Here, First and

Melchthald repaired by unfrequented paths, whilst Stauffacher kept the rendezvous in a little boat, which he rowed across the lake in the gloom of night. Each imparted the design to his most intimate friends; and upon an appointed night, the three patriots conducted to Rutli thirty confederates, who joined in a solemn covenant to devote themselves to the emancipation of their country. Their generous resolution was fortified by an oath, taken in the name of 'that God who has created, out of the same clay, the peasant and the emperor, and gifted every rational being with the same inalienable rights.' This important compact, the germ of Helvetian freedom, was made on the night of Thursday preceding the feast of Martinmas 1307.

The suspicion of a brutal despot is easily aroused.

To

Whether Gessler had information of the conspiracy that was hatching, or was influenced by that incessant doubting which haunts the breast of a tyrant, his proceedings became more outrageous than before. As he joined a singular ignorance and infatuation to the natural cruelty of his disposition, he hit upon the notable expedient of testing the loyalty of the people, by erecting a pole, and placing on it a cap, to which all were ordered to pay the reverence that was due to the emperor himself. this degrading ceremony, the free and noble spirit of one man instantly and openly announced its intention not to submit. This man was William Tell. He was a native of Bürglen, one of the ten districts which compose the canton of Uri, and the son-in-law of Walter Fürst. He had been present at the compact of Rutli. His reputation amongst his countrymen for undaunted energy and skill in arms, had rendered his accession to the league a primary object with the first devisers of the plot. His bold promptitude now accelerated the movement for which the associated patriots were more slowly preparing.

Gessler summoned before him the intrepid peasant of Bürglen. His traitorous neglect of the ordained ceremonial to the phantom representative of sovereignty was objected to him. The reply of Tell was unyielding and defying. The rage of the furious Gessler was roused to madness at the calm courage of the simple peasant. Any ordinary punishment was too meagre for such a crime. His invention was fertile in malignancy; and knowing his prisoner to be a father, he determined to make the warm and sacred feelings of a parent his sport and scorn. The young and first-born son of Tell was ordered to be torn from its mother's arms, and brought before the tyrant and his murderous band. The ordeal seems too severe for human nerves, yet Tell passed through it. The wretch in whose power he was, informed him that his only chance of life was to shoot an apple from the head of his own child at a distance to which only the most vigorous arm could send an arrow from the bow, and the most skilful and unmoved marksman

take a fixed aim. It was useless for the wretched parent to beg some other trial, however onerous or painful. The monster would have his revenge amply glutted, and the mode he had resolved upon promised a piquancy which no other punishment could supply.

At the appointed hour, the fair and weeping child was placed at a measured distance from the father-the apple was put upon its head, and Tell ordered to level his weapon at the mark. What were his feelings at that moment it would be vain to describe. The arrow flew and pierced the apple, leaving unscathed the tender infant. As the conditions of the trial had been, that Tell should have only one shot for his life, Gessler, seeing another arrow in his quiver, asked him to what use he had destined it. For your heart,' answered the ironnerved hero, if my first aim had swerved!' The wretch, already infuriated that his victim had escaped him, again commanded his guards to seize the courageous peasant, and immure him in a dungeon.

A scene at once so affecting and so revolting must needs have roused the indignation of the Swiss to some visible commotion. The tyrant feared his prisoner would be wrested from him by a popular and general movement if he kept him within the bounds of Uri. Contrary to the fundamental laws, which prohibited a citizen from being imprisoned out of his own canton, he therefore hurried Tell on board a boat, and pushing off into the lake, he ordered the boatmen to steer for Kussnacht, in Schwytz. Eager to gratify the vengeance which had been hitherto balked, Gessler himself accompanied the prisoner, who was loaded with chains. As they approached the famous plain of Rutli, one of those violent gusts of wind which are common in those wild regions, burst from a gorge in the lofty St Gothard, and, rousing the lake into awful turbulence, threatened the party with destruction. In this crisis the self-possession of the tyrant failed him. The horrors of a sudden and fearful death overcame his hatred of Tell, and with an abjectness of spirit congenial to cruelty, he solicited his injured prisoner to exert his

well-known skill as a mariner in extricating him from danger. The irons of the captive were loosened, and his vigorous arm applied to the oar. The boat neared a rock jutting out from the shore. Tell, darting from his seat, sprang with a powerful effort upon its level surface, and by the same motion with which he reached the rock, he forced back into the foaming waves Gessler and his crew. Then hurrying with all speed to the intended point of debarkation, and having provided himself with his unerring weapon, he quietly waited to see whether the wayes or his arrow should rid the world of his oppressor. Gessler escaped the fury of the storm; but as he was proceeding from his landing-place, a shaft from Tell's bow pierced his heart, and he fell dead. This was the first victim to the independence of the Waldstat; and whatever merit may be assigned to the original patriots of Rutli, it is undoubted that the actions of Tell first roused the slumbering spirit of his countrymen, and encouraged them to the noble enterprises which have covered their name with glory.

The death of Gessler was the signal for energetic measures. On the first day of the year 1308, the fortress of the other governor, Landenberg, was taken by an ingenious stratagem. He himself fled, but was overtaken. He purchased his life by resigning all the castles held by the Austrians, and withdrawing the troops. Thus the three cantons were simultaneously freed from their oppressors, without any blood being shed, save that of the infamous Gessler. A formal league and treaty was entered into by them, to defend each other against all aggression; and, thus united in concord and determination, they awaited the storm that was lowering upon them.

The Emperor Albert was not a man to receive with resignation the news of the revolt and emancipation of three cantons, which he had vowed to grind to the dust. His indignation rose to a furious pitch, and if the season of the year had permitted, he would have instantly proceeded to execute his projects of vengeance. But whilst

the mind of this imperious mortal was intent only on spoliation and aggrandisement-for his covetous eye was fixed on the tempting kingdom of Bohemia-and brooding over his scheme of merciless revenge, a miserable death was preparing for him. Amongst the acts of injustice which he had perpetrated, a refusal to restore his rightful possessions to his nephew John of Austria, was one of the most indefensible. The young prince became irritated at his uncle's perfidy, and there were not wanting persons to insinuate in his ear, that it was lawful to remove the obstacle to the possession of his rights. Four noblemen especially, who had all grounds of complaint against the emperor, fortified his resolution, and a plan for the assassination of the common enemy was resolved upon. An opportunity presented itself on the 1st of May 1308, as Albert was proceeding from Stein to Baden. The conspirators contrived to isolate him from his retinue as he was winding round the foot of the hill on the acclivity of which stood the castle of Hapsburg, the original seat of his family before its great and sudden elevation. His nephew struck the first blow, and as he pierced his breast with a lance, he cried out: 'Receive the reward of thy injustice.' The others pressed around, and passed their swords through his body. They then left him weltering in his gore. An old woman saw him, and came to his assistance. The emperor was yet struggling with death, but on attempting to raise him in her arms, he expired. This murder of the oppressor did not emancipate Switzerland.

Civil discord ensued in Austria; a new ruler, fully as despotic as Albert, sprang up; and in 1315, seven years after the revolt, Leopold, the brother of the lately declared duke, was despatched with an army into the rebellious cantons, for the purpose of wreaking the vengeance of his family on the unfortunate mountaineers. With the blind confidence that the Swiss would never venture to oppose him, Leopold led his army into a defile commanded by surrounding heights. His forces amounted to 10,000 men. The Swiss were posted at the end of the defile, to the