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- Herausgeber: George Upton
- Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
- Sprache: Englisch
William Tell by George Upton; Translated from the German of Ferdinand Schmidt. William Tell is a folk hero of Switzerland. His legend is recorded in a late 15th-century Swiss chronicle.According the legend Tell, expert crossbow, killed Gessler, a tyrannic of Habsburg Austria positioned in Altdorf, Uri. Iconoclasts may deny the existence of William Tell, historians and critics may assign him to the shadowy realm of legend, but all Switzerland, even after six centuries have passed, still cherishes his memory. He typifies patriotic purpose and incorruptibility of character.The work of the critics is in vain, for the people everywhere still cling to the hero of Burglen, who defied Gessler and was leader in the uprising which resulted in throwing off the Hapsburg yoke, and no child can be convinced that the boy William, brave son of a brave father, did not stand under the lime-tree in Altdorf, with the apple on his curly head, and call: "Shoot, father! I am not afraid. I am standing still."
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014
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William Tell
By George Upton
Translated from the German of
Ferdinand Schmidt
WILLIAM TELL
BY GEORGE UPTON
Translated from the German of Ferdinand Schmidt
Chicago
A. C. McClurg & Co.
1915
Translator's Preface
Iconoclasts may deny the existence of William Tell, historians and critics may assign him to the shadowy realm of legend, but all Switzerland, even after six centuries have passed, still cherishes his memory. He typifies patriotic purpose and incorruptibility of character. The work of the critics is in vain, for the people everywhere still cling to the hero of Burglen, who defied Gessler and was leader in the uprising which resulted in throwing off the Hapsburg yoke, and no child can be convinced that the boy William, brave son of a brave father, did not stand under the lime-tree in Altdorf, with the apple on his curly head, and call: "Shoot, father! I am not afraid. I am standing still."
It is hard to imagine anything sweeter or more charming than the opening chapters of this beautiful life-story, which describes the sports of the people, the home life of Tell, the driving of the herd to the mountain meadows, the sad adventures of William and Hifeli (the favorite cow in the herd) with the vulture, and the hunting scene, in which Tell despatches the fierce bird of prey and its brood. It is a veritable idyl of Swiss life, reflecting the wonderful impressiveness of alpine color, glow, and scenery. The subsequent chapters relate the killing of Wolfshot, the first blow struck for freedom, the midnight meeting of the patriots on the Rutli meadow, at which the Swiss confederation was organized, the famous incident of the shooting of the apple, the death of Gessler, and the uprising and final victory of the Confederates. It is the story of a fearless, sturdy, liberty-loving, God-fearing people, their resistance to tyranny, their defence of the freedom handed down to them by their fathers. There is no nobler, higher example for youth, in legend or in history, than that set forth in the life-story of William Tell, and no child will question the reality of the scenes in these stirring pages.
G. P. U.
CHICAGO, 1904.
The Festival at the Meadow
In the very centre of Switzerland lies the beautiful and world-famous Lake of the Four Forest Cantons. Upon an eminence on its southern shore, between the villages of Attinghausen and Seedorf, may still be seen the lofty, massive ruins of the ancestral seat of the barons of Attinghausen, and near by it the ruins of a large farmhouse, which, tradition relates, was once the home of Walter Furst, who played so important a part in securing the freedom of Switzerland.
Our story takes us back into the gray past,—the year 1296. It was a beautiful May morning. The sun shed its golden rays over mountain and valley, and the bells of Seedorf summoned the willing herdsmen and peasants, with their magical music, to celebrate the consecration festival in God's house. The service over, the long procession of church-goers dispersed in various directions. They walked along seriously and quietly, and it was easy to read in their faces that the sermon and song had inspired in their souls sacred feelings.
Two venerable men were conspicuous among them,—Walter Furst and the Baron von Attinghausen. Their heads were silvered by age, but the fire in their eyes and their resolute mien betokened the energy which still animated them to heroic purpose. Hedwig, Furst's daughter, a noble girl, famous through the whole country for her beauty and her virtue, walked beside them.
They parted at Furst's door after exchanging a few words about the games which were to take place the next afternoon. Furst and Hedwig entered the house, and the Baron took the mountain road which led to his castle. These two men were held in the highest respect, not only in their own canton, Uri, but also in the cantons Schwyz and Unterwalden. So far as material circumstances are concerned, both were fortunate, but it would have been difficult to decide which stood the higher in nobility of soul. The virtues of their fathers were sacred legacies, which kept them true in word and deed. They were the living statute books of their people, and their authority was never questioned.
An hour after dinner there was an exciting time under the lofty maple-trees in front of Furst's house. It was the day of the spring shooting festival. Furst heard the sounds of flutes and alpine horns, and, going to the window with his daughter, beheld a stirring spectacle on the mountain-side. A crowd of peasants had fetched the Baron from his castle, and the jubilant procession was winding its way down the mountain road. The musicians, their instruments and hats tied with gayly colored fluttering ribbons, led the way. A tall young herdsman, carrying the Uri banner, followed them, and after him came Baron von Attinghausen in glistening armor; for carrying a weapon at that period was the distinctive mark of a freeman on all public occasions. Some carried swords, some crossbows, and others iron-spiked clubs. Furst took down his sword from the wall and buckled it on, and his daughter handed him his hat with its decoration of gay feathers.
As the procession stopped before the house, Furst went out, and a general shout of welcome greeted him. He advanced to pay his respects to the Baron, and the two shook hands, after which the procession resumed its march, reinforced at short intervals by others, who waited for it in groups or singly among the trees and at their house doors. Near Attinghausen there is a large meadow bordered with high maples and nut trees, under which tables and benches had been placed. The procession wended its way to this spot, followed by a crowd of rosy-cheeked girls and boys. How all eyes glistened in expectation of the coming events of the day! Gradually the meadow assumed the appearance of a living flower-bed. Picturesque groups engaged in eager conversation were scattered here and there. The archers, stone-throwers, runners, and wrestlers were the subject of general criticism, and many were the surmises as to which of them would win the prizes. Here and there boys were practising sports in which some day they hoped to distinguish themselves. Furst and the Baron measured off the ground for the various games, and then selected judges from among the older men. The musicians, who went away immediately after the arrival of the procession, now returned at the head of a second procession, made up of women and girls from the villages of Attinghausen and Seedorf. Many had also joined them who lived among the mountains. Hedwig, Furst's daughter, was selected to distribute the prizes,—silver medals adorned with gay ribbons, which she carried on a red cushion.
An alpine horn sounded the signal for the beginning of the sports, and Furst and Baron von Attinghausen took the seats of honor reserved for them. Hedwig, "the Rose of Uri," as she was often called, modestly accepting the honor which had been bestowed upon her, sat near her father. Some of the judges took their places at his right, and the others seated themselves by the side of the Baron.
