Wolfenschiessen, upon a rising ground. The woman was wonderfully beautiful, and the bailiff was kindled in wicked desire, on account of her beauty. So he asks the woman, where her husband was? The woman answers, that he had gone out, and was not at home. He asks, again, when he would come home. The woman was not aware, that all this conversation was on her account, but feared, that her husband might have done something, that had displeased, so that the bailiff would punish him, because he asked, so carefully, where he was; for she knew his cruel disposition; therefore, she answered, she believed he would be absent for some days, she could not say how long; (yet she knew, very well, that he was in the wood, and would be home for dinner.) When the bailiff heard this, he spoke to the woman: "Woman, I shall go home with thee, for I have to say something to thee." The woman startled, but durst not contradict him, and went with him. When there, he ordered her to prepare a bath, for that the walking had made him tired and dusty. Then the woman apprehended nothing good, and longed, in her mind, for her husband, that he might soon come from the wood, and unwillingly prepared the bath. And, when the bath was prepared, the vogt began to show his wickedness, and desired her to bathe with him. The woman trembled, for she could well see, that he meant to use violence; she prayed to God, in her heart, to protect her honor, and avert her degradation. And now she thought upon a scheme, spoke kindly with the vogt, as if she would do as he desired, and said to him, he ought to tell his servants, (of whom he had two with him,) to go away; after that, she would join him in the bath. The vogt bade the servants go away, and the woman told him to go into the bath; she, in the mean time, would prepare herself, in her room, and soon join him. The vogt did as she desired. But the woman went out of the back-door, and meant to stand there; when presently comes her husband, to whom, with tears, and a low voice, she whispers what the tyrant had intended with her, and how he was now in the bath. The honest man said, “Praised be the Lord, my pious wife, that he has protected thee, that thou hast saved thine

honor; I'll bless his bath, that he shall injure no more women; for it is better that I wager my life, than that any shame should befall thee, my beloved wife. Whereupon, he quickly went into the house, and knocked the bailiff on the head, with his axe, that he died with one blow. The man fled, immediately, to Uri, where he remained in secret, although diligently pursued, on account of the shameful deed which the vogt had intended to perpetrate.

Anno Domini, 1307, there was a godly countryman in Unterwalden, above the Kernwald, who was called Henry von Melchtal, and resided in the same valley, (that is, at Melchtal) a wise, judicious, honorable, and substantial man, and well esteemed among the country folks, and always actively maintaining, that they should stick to their privileges, and not allow themselves to be separated from the empire, for which Beringer of Landenberg, landvogt over the whole of Unterwalden, was very hostile to him. This Melchtal had fine cattle; and, for some trifling offence, which his son Arnold of Melchtal, was said to have committed, (which, however, the same denied, and, had it been true, the honestly-awarded fine could not have amounted to more than five shillings,) the landvogt sent his servants, to seize upon his finest yoke of oxen, as a fine due to him; and should the old Henry of Melchtal object to it, the servant should answer, that it was the vogt's opinion, the peasants themselves should pull the plough, and upon this, he should seize the oxen, and bring them to him. The servant did as the master had bid him. The honest man did not like that his own should be taken from him, by force, and said, his son was not guilty, and if the vogt had any right against him, he should prove it by law, and then punish; but the servant insisted upon having the oxen, as he had been ordered. And when he unyoked them, the son of the farmer, Ar nold, (who was a young man,) kindled in wrath, and gave a blow, with a stick, over the hand of the servant, and broke one of his fingers, upon which he forthwith fled from out the land, to Uri, where he hid himself, for a long while, with one of his kinsfolks, and where Cunrat of

Atzelen was likewise concealed. The servant made great complaint to the landvogt, who sent in anger, for the youth's old father, and ordered the youth to be imprisoned. But when the youth was not to be found, for he had fled, the old man alone arrived. The landvogt addressed him, in harsh and violent words, and commanded him to bring, immediately, his son Arnold. The honest man himself did not yet know where his son was, and easily perceived, that, were he present, his life would be endangered. He answered, that, in truth, he did not know, himself, where his son was, for he had run from home immediately, and never informed him whither he meant to go. Upon this, the landvogt ordered that the old father (who was an honorable man, far advanced in years,) should lose both his eyes; for the servant had informed him that the old man had said, he was going to take his property unjustly; and, in addition, he took the oxen, and commanded the blind man to pay a large sum to the servant, for the broken finger. The country folks became, upon this cruel tyranny, very visibly exasperated. And when Arnold, the son, learned what had happened to his pious father, he secretly complained of it to some faithful people in Uri, and hoped, in time, to revenge the cruelty inflicted upon his father. The country people expostulated with the landvogt, that it was burdensome for them to be treated thus severely; but the landvogt answered, that the King, whose servant he was, had ordered him to treat them thus.

At the same time, Gessler, the landvogt of Uri and Schwytz, oppressed both the nobles and the common people of these districts, as much as Landenberg did at Unterwalden; kept them hard and severe, and obliged them to build a castle at Uri, that he, and other landvogts after him, might live there in greater safety, if there should be disturbances, and that the country might altogether be kept in better obedience. He therefore caused stone, mortar, sand, and timber, to be carried on a hill, called Salaturn, near Altdorff, the chief place, and began to execute the work; and, when he was asked, what name he was going to give to the castle, he answered, "the name

shall be, Zwing (force or subdue) Uri under the Rod." This gave great scandal to the nobles of the land and the country people, in Uri, and this building, was a great thorn in their eyes. When he observed that they highly resented this rearing of a castle, he became enraged, and swore he would make them so soft, that he would wind them round his finger.

And, upon the day of St. Jacobi, he caused to be planted a pole near Altdorff, near the linden trees, where every one must pass; upon this pole, he caused a hat to be placed, and proclaimed, that every one in the district, who should pass, should bow, and take off his bonnet, and show respect, as though the King himself, or some man in his place, were there present, under the penalty of limb and property. He also stationed guards, there, to watch, night and day, that no one should act to the contrary. He thought he would earn great reputation, if he should succeed in bringing into the lowest submission, this manly, gallant, and reputable, people, which had always been in high esteem with emperors, kings, princes, and lords. This insolence galled the people, still worse than the building of the castle; yet they could not yet oppose it, on account of the King's evident great anger, and mighty power, nor could they hope to obtain mercy from him.

In those days, it so happened, that landvogt Gessler, (when he meant to go from Uri to Küssnacht to his castle,) when he rode through Schwytz, over which he was likewise landvogt, a man lived at Steinen, in Schwytz, wise, honorable, and of ancient family, called Wernherr of Stauffach, son of Rudolph of Stauffach, who had been landamman of Schwytz. This Wernherr had built a fine new house, this side the brook, near Steinen. When the landvogt came to this house, and Stauffach, who stood before it, received him friendly, and welcomed him as his lord, the landvogt asked him, whose house this was? (though he knew very well, for he had said to others, that he would take the house.) Stauffach was aware that he asked for no good purpose, and that he harbored enmity against him, because he had always maintained, that they should not surrender to Austria, but remain

with the empire and their ancient liberties, and he had great influence with the country people. He, therefore, thus replied: "Sir, this house is my lord the King's, and yours, and mine." The landvogt said, "I am regent in the land, for my master the King, and will not allow that peasants build houses, without my permission, nor will I permit that you live so free, as though yourselves were lords ; I shall show you, that I will prevent it:" upon which, he rode on. These words troubled Stauffach, much, and pierced him to the heart. Now, he was a judicious, careful man, and had a wise and ingenious wife, who soon perceived that something oppressed his mind, yet he did not open it to her. Still, she was desirous of knowing the cause, and, at length, he told her what the landvogt had said to him, and that he did not expect any thing better, than to lose, in time, his house, home, goods, and every thing. When she learned this, she said, "My dear husband, you know that many good people, in our country, complain of the tyranny of the landvogt, nor do I doubt but many honest people, in Uri and Unterwalden, feel oppressed by the cruel yoke, as we daily hear that they sorely complain. Therefore, it would be well, if some few, who confide in one another, should secretly advise together, and reflect how this tyrannical power might be thrown off, and assist and protect one another's justice, and God would not abandon you, but would aid you in bridling all this unfairness, if we implore his aid from the depth of our souls." She then asked him, whether he knew any one in Uri and Unterwalden, whom he might trust for information, and to whom he might confide his plans. He answered, "yes, I know, there, many noble people, who are attached to me, and whom I may trust." So Stauffach thought within him, that his wife's advice might not be bad, followed it, and went to Uri, where he remained some days, to listen how the common people were disposed. There he heard, from many honorable persons, great complaints against the landvogt. This re joiced Stauffach, for he thought the plan might succeed; yet he trusted it, at this time, to one reputable and wise mán, only, to Walter Furst. The landamman of Ur