Chapter II

The Battle of Morgarten

About ten miles distant from Stans, and high above the glistening Lake of the Four Forest Cantons, is a somewhat long valley, about three miles in width, surrounded by huge mountains, among which the Titlis is the loftiest. A pastoral village occupies the right bank of the Aar,[3] which furnishes it with fresh spring water. Both the valley and the village take the name of Engelberg[4] from the Benedictine monastery, established there in 1120. Its founder was the wealthy and childless Baron Conrad of Seldenbüren. He gave the valley, which was one of his possessions, to the monastery, besides endowing it with valuable property in Zurichgau. “Engelberg” is the equivalent of the Latin name, “Mons Angelorum,” which Pope Calixtus the Second gave to the monastery.

The entire valley was tributary to the monastery. Every household had to furnish it a Shrovetide fowl or thirty eggs. When a valley person died, his heir had to give the monastery the best pair of cattle left by the deceased, as well as the clothes he last wore to church. Twice a year the Abbot went to the castle at Zurichgau, belonging to the monastery, to administer justice. Eight days previous to the journey, those of the same rank and fief, and belonging to the same order, between the Reuss and the Rhine, were invited to accompany him. The Abbot, on these journeys also took his chaplain, a provost, a priest in ordinary, and a knight with three hounds and a hawk. When the Abbot stopped at a house, the housewife had to receive him at her door, with a loaf in one hand and a fowl in the other, the fowl being for the hawk and the loaf for the hounds. She must also provide a roast, a sufficient number of fowls, and enough of good Alsatian wine for the dinner of the Abbot and his company, and if he remained over night, the farm attached to the place had also to furnish fowl.

Berthold of Winkelried was abbot at the time of our story, and his two sisters, Adelheid and Elspeth, were in charge of the convent, which was also located in the valley. As the brother and sisters were near relatives of Arnold, our hero, he was sent to the famous school of the Benedictine monastery to acquire his education and to become thoroughly acquainted with the history of the fatherland, and thereby acquire the inspiration of its struggles and heroic deeds.

The original sources of this history are lost in the traditions of the past. The first inhabitants of Switzerland probably were the Rætians. They were followed by the Helvetians, a Celtic tribe which occupied the plains, leaving the Rætians only the mountains. Both these tribes were subjugated by the Romans in the first century of our era, who laid out the first roads and established settlements. Eastern Switzerland was assigned to the Rætians, who belonged to Italy, and western to the Gauls. The name “Helvetia” disappeared in the third century. When the great migrations occurred, which built up new empires and pulled down old ones, the fierce Huns first invaded the country. Following them, the Burgundians conquered the western part, whereupon the Ostrogoths took possession of the southern and the Alamanni of the northern part. All these tribes in turn were subjugated by the Franks,[5] who not only overran the country, but established Frankish advowsons there. Although the Alpine people were subject to them yet they retained a certain independence, and Charles the Great granted them many privileges, for they had rendered him important service in his Italian wars. After the dissolution of the great Frankish empire the eastern part of Switzerland was acquired by the Duchy of Swabia and the western by the newly organized kingdom of Burgundy. Subsequent to this, the German sovereigns took over the country and permitted the house of Zäringen to administer it. During the reign of the Emperor Frederick the Second (1215-1250) the Swiss were subordinate to the Empire and free from the exactions of the landowners, but after the extinction of the Hohenstaufen dynasty, the imperial power declined. Ecclesiastics and non-ecclesiastics, counts, and princes sought to increase their possessions and revenues at the expense of their neighbors; and the Swiss cities, as well as the country people, who had previously resisted thraldom, were forced to protect themselves by making individual alliances with their oppressors. Thus it happened that Zurich and Uri united with the counts of Hapsburg. Schwyz made another alliance. When Count Rudolph of Hapsburg[6] was elected to the imperial throne, 1273, he endeavored to enlarge his possessions. Several Swiss cities which had been loyal to the Hapsburgs and had fought so stoutly in Rudolph’s campaigns began to fear for their own security; but in the last year of Rudolph’s life (1291) the men of Schwyz, Uri, and Unterwalden met and organized “the Everlasting League,” under the provisions of which they agreed to protect each other from a common enemy. They also agreed to recognize no local officials who had bought their positions or who were strangers in the country. Following their example, the people of every valley and community made the same agreement.

What the death of the Emperor Rudolph had prevented him from accomplishing, Albert, his son and successor, sought to carry out. He aimed to dominate the country and make its free people his vassals. When at last his tyranny was too severe for endurance, three men from the three cantons, Werner Stauffacher of Schwyz, Walter Fürst of Uri, and Arnold of Melchthal, and thirty more with them, met at the Rütli,[7] and renewed the League of 1291. Two months after this, the tyrannical governors were expelled, their brutal rule was ended, and the country was free.

Duke Albert, thirsting for revenge, sought to destroy the League, but while striving to accomplish that purpose he was murdered by his nephew, Duke John of Swabia. The German imperial power was supplanted by that of the Austrian dukes. Henry, the next emperor, was chosen from the Luxembourg and Bavarian family. He recognized the League and confirmed the people in all their rights and privileges, which subjected him to the ill-will of Albert’s sons and grandsons. After Henry’s death Louis of Bavaria was elected Emperor over Frederick of Austria. The Forest Cantons paid allegiance to him because they knew they had nothing good to expect from Austria. Thereupon Leopold, Frederick’s brother, decided to retaliate, and nearly all the nobles of Swabia and German Switzerland joined him.

The events now to be related, which took place in 1315, Arnold learned from the lips of an aged monk in the Engelberg monastery, who had been a participant in them. This still vigorous old man, Father Vincentius, was known throughout the valley as the “one-eyed,” for he had lost his left eye. He was not a man of great erudition, but having had experience in the art of healing he knew how to compound medicines for the sick, and to treat wounds and broken limbs. He was reverenced and loved by the pastoral folk of the valley, for many of them owed their good health and their lives to his skill. As he was always ready, by day or by night, in good or in bad weather, to visit sick-beds, he was looked upon as an angel of mercy. Father Vincentius had been wild and reckless in his youth, but in his later years he returned to the Church and consecrated himself as a Benedictine monk to the service of suffering humanity. Arnold was very fond of the monk, and his devotion was returned by Father Vincentius, who occasionally took the lad with him on his visits to the sick. Upon one of these visits, which took them to the end of the valley, the monk told him about the war which Leopold waged against the three cantons.

“In November of the year 1315,” he began, “Leopold assembled a large force at Zug, composed of the flower of the nobility and his own horsemen. There were also many foot soldiers from Lucerne, Entlebuch, Aargau, Oberhasli, Frutigen, and other places in the hill country. His plan was to have the entire cavalry and part of the infantry make the main attack upon Schwyz. This force numbered fifteen thousand men, and the Duke himself was leader. The remaining infantry, six thousand strong, commanded by the Austrian marshal, Count Otto of Strasburg, was to invade Unterwalden—one division attacking the Nidwald by land and water, the other the Obwald,[8] so as to divide and weaken their opponents as much as possible.

“Two highroads led from Zug to Schwyz, but the Schwyzers were uncertain which of them the Duke’s army would take. When they found at last that they were menaced by such an overpowering force they became somewhat alarmed. They had made tenders of peace to Leopold through Count Frederick of Toggenburg, who was well disposed toward them, but the furious Leopold would not consider the offers, so that no alternative was left them but to defend themselves to the last drop of their blood. They summoned all their people to arms and fortified the principal passes and roads of their little country. They thoroughly strengthened Arth, a post station at the southeast corner of the Lake of Zug, where it makes a bend, for at that point, as at Lucerne, they might be attacked by land and water. They constructed strong and well protected entrenchments, extending from the Rossberg to the Rigi. If the enemy should break through at any one point the entire defence might be lost, so particular care was paid to the entrenchments. As there were frequent skirmishes between the Schwyzers and the Austrians at Saint Adrian, it was thought the main attack would be made there, and that Leopold’s army might be expected on the road to Arth. These skirmishes proved to be the first step toward the subsequent success of the Confederates. Among the Austrian liegemen from Lucerne and Zug there were many who sympathized with their neighbors and who were serving in the Duke’s army under constraint. One of these was Henry of Hünenberg, who had friends and relatives among the Schwyzers. He determined to give his old friends some valuable information. A favorable chance offered itself in one of these encounters. During its progress he rushed up to the entrenchment and shot an arrow over it, which lodged in a tree. A Schwyzer, noticing that a paper was wrapped round it, pulled it out. The paper contained the brief but significant message, ‘Defend yourselves at Morgarten.’

“Now they were sure where the attack would be made. The Duke chose for his advance that one of the two roads that leads to the rocky ridge known as the Morgarten, and by way of Stein directly to Schwyz. Every effort was made to give the enemy a vigorous reception. The Morgarten is a natural defence of itself. At the upper part of it extends a plain called the ‘Alte Matte,’ intersected by a mountain ridge. This runs to the Morgarten and presents an admirable opportunity for attacking an army approaching through the pass upon the flank, or to cut him off entirely. In making their plans, they followed the counsels of Rudolf Reding, who had fought in many of his country’s battles in his younger life, and now had the valuable experience of seventy years.

“On the evening of November fifteenth their companions from Uri and Unterwalden arrived in Schwyz. Their numbers all told were thirteen hundred—six hundred from Schwyz, four hundred from Uri, and three hundred from Unterwalden. The rest of their men were engaged in holding important places among the passes. As night came on, the little army took up its march to Morgarten, determined to conquer, or, like Leonidas and his Spartans, die for freedom and the fatherland.

“On the following day Duke Leopold left Zug with his fifteen thousand men early in the morning. After a council with his leaders at the village church of Ober Ägeri on the way, he decided to make the attack the next morning. The Confederates in the meantime, following Reding’s advice, did not remain on the mountain ridge, but crossed the Alte Matte to Haslern, so that Morgarten was on their right and the little Lake Ägeri, extending to the southeastern slope of Morgarten, on their left.

“The Confederates suddenly found an unexpected and even unwelcome reinforcement, though it was but a mere handful of men.”

Father Vincentius paused in his story, apparently absorbed in a reverie, which his little auditor did not venture to disturb though he longed to know how the impending battle came out. The old man muttered a few inaudible words to himself and nodded his head twice. At last he resumed:

“You must know, my son, that the government of the Confederates was severe in its administration of law and authority. Whoever disobeyed the law or disturbed the public peace in any way was severely punished. It is so now, and it has always been so. There were some young, hot-headed fellows who thought it was their mission to reform the world, and as one alone could not do it, they formed societies for that purpose, which became dangerous political parties to the State and the community. Such fellows as these were always expelled from the country. Just about the time of which I am talking a number of young men had suffered this penalty for violation of the law; but when they heard of the danger which threatened the fatherland, the old home-love was aroused, and fifty of them started for the Schwyz frontier to serve their country. They sent messengers to the Confederates, asking permission to serve in the ranks of their countrymen, but their service was declined and the messengers were rudely dismissed. I can confirm this, for I was one of those messengers. Yes, my son, I was one of the exiles. I was one of those heaven-stormers, before I became Father Vincentius. Although our offer of help was rejected we still loved the fatherland, and so we fifty determined to fight for it by ourselves. We knew where to find the enemy, and, unknown to any one, we went to the Morgarten and took up a position on the ridge to the right, called Mattligütsch—it was early in the morning of November sixteenth. In very early times a slide had been made there for sending down the firewood cut for the Winter. There were plenty of logs at hand, which could be rolled down upon the passing enemy with terrible effect, and we also collected an ample supply of rocks and boulders. A dense fog hung over Lake Ägeri and its shores, through which we suddenly heard drum-beats and trumpet-calls in the distance. Leopold’s army was approaching, with the fifteen hundred nobles of Swabia, Alsatia, Aargau, and Thurgau, heavily armed, led by Duke Leopold himself, and Count Henry of Montfort-Tettnung in the advance, the infantry bringing up the rear.

“Just then the fog lifted and the sun rose. Brightly gleamed the polished steel armor and helms gayly adorned with many-colored plumes, and the dense forest of spears flashed in the dazzling light. It was a fascinating and awe-inspiring spectacle, but it only strengthened our courage all the more. We calmly awaited our opportunity, entirely unobserved by the enemy. As the cavalry, little recking of any danger, advanced through the narrow pass between the Mattligütsch and Lake Ägeri we let loose a tremendous avalanche of logs and tree trunks, followed by a hail-storm of rocks. They were at once plunged into frightful disorder. Many men and horses were felled to the earth and crushed. The terrified steeds, almost as heavily weighed down as their riders, reared and threw them. Count Montfort and other leaders attempted to restore order and resume the march, but we gave them no time. We hurled rocks and logs into their ranks incessantly and their panic increased every moment. Though barely able to extricate themselves, some rode back and urged the rear ranks forward. But the enemy was overcome with terror. Threats and imprecations mingled with groans and screams on all sides. The commands of their leaders were not even respected.

“In the first moment of their rage at this unexpected obstruction to their march, several horsemen made a rash attempt to ride along the Haselmatt, where they thought they would be least exposed to our assault, and a part of the vanguard followed them. Observing this movement we redoubled our exertions, and most of them were crushed as they were toilsomely ascending. We charged upon those who escaped, and it was then my eye was put out by the thrust of a lance.

“The thirteen hundred confederates at Haslern, who had heard the tumult and din of arms, suddenly came up and attacked the cavalry. Their clubs, spears, and swords made frightful havoc, and they dealt such stout blows with their halberds that even the heaviest armed foe could not have withstood them. Hundreds struggled in the stream of blood, filled with demoniac rage, and many were wounded by them in their blind fury or were trampled upon by their horses. Some were so paralyzed by fear that they made no attempt to defend themselves, and were killed. Those who managed to extricate themselves took to flight. Several dived into Lake Ägeri, where most of them were drowned because of their heavy armor. Leopold’s horsemen, who rode along so gallantly and proudly only a short time before were now killed or fugitives. While the great battle-horns of Uri and Unterwalden were sounding their blasts of victory, the flying horsemen encountered the foot-soldiers just coming up. As they did not turn aside quickly enough, the latter were trodden underfoot by the wild horses. Among the fugitives were the Count of Montfort and Leopold. The Duke, usually a brave soldier, furiously galloped miles away to Winterthur,[9] although no one was pursuing him; such was his consternation over his surprising defeat.

“At last we met the terrified and panic-stricken ranks of the foot-soldiers, but among them were men from Zurich and Zug, who fought like lions. But they were doomed, for who could withstand the impetuosity of the Schwyzers, whose like was only to be found among the old German conquerors of the Romans. Like grass before the scythe these picked men of Zurich and Zug fell in heaps where they stood. Surely, heroism like this was worthy of a better cause! The other foot-soldiers fled to the adjacent mountains, and at nine o’clock the battle of Morgarten was over.

“The victors could not afford to follow the fugitives, for during the battle messengers had been sent from Unterwalden calling for help. In pursuance of their plan of battle Count Otto of Strasburg had made the attack on Unterwalden with his six thousand men. Our division made its approach in boats on the Lake of the Four Forest Cantons, and as the few defenders of the shore-line were powerless to prevent them, they destroyed everything in their way throughout the entire Nidwald. The other division, led by the Count, invaded the Obwald and ravaged it with the rapacity of a flock of wolves. After the enemy’s main force had been routed at Morgarten, the Unterwaldeners went at once to the relief of their own hard pressed countrymen and hundreds of stout Schwyzers accompanied them. They first rescued the Nidwaldeners from their unbidden guests, recovered the spoils, and drove them to their boats in such haste that many of them fell into the water and were drowned. Then they moved against the Strasburg force, which they found at Alpnach. As the Austrian count saw the Unterwaldeners approaching he was seized with a panic, which spread through his entire army; for he knew that the Unterwaldeners were at Morgarten and rightly concluded that the Duke’s army had been defeated. The Strasburgers lost courage and began retreating without even offering resistance. But some of them failed to escape, for the rear column was overtaken and several hundred were killed.

“Thus in one day the Confederates achieved a three-fold victory over an army which was sixteen times as strong as their own, and which lost fifteen hundred horsemen and as many foot-soldiers. The loss of the Confederates was small, but three of their bravest leaders were found among the dead. Horses, costly weapons, rider and horse equipment, ten banners, many decorated helmets such as the nobility wear to distinguish them from others, were among the rich spoils captured. Permission was granted to those among the enemy who had dead relatives on the field to take their bodies home. The rest were buried on the spot. The wounded were treated with special kindness. We who had made the first assault and prepared the way for victory were allowed to remain in the homeland, and it was sacred to us ever after.”

Such is the story of the battle at Morgarten as the monk, who had participated in the events of that memorable day, related it to the lad. Arnold gazed with admiration upon this old man who had once fought so stoutly and now went about in his sandals and black cowl as a messenger of peace. He looked with a kind of reverential awe at the blinded eye, and the scar seemed to him a mark of honor and victory.

Arnold had always loved his country, but now he was deeply moved by a feeling of pride as he thought of the skill and courage which had characterized the deeds of his countrymen, and his heart glowed with the fire of patriotism. His most ardent wish was to distinguish himself by his devotion to home and freedom, to swing the halberd in the hot fight, and to drive the enemy from the fatherland. He no longer wished to be a knight.