THE ARCHERS, OR MOUNTAINEERS OF SWITZERLAND; TO WHICH IS SUBJOINED A BRIEF HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF SWITZERLAND.
[COPY RIGHT SECURED.]
THE ARCHERS, OR MOUNTAINEERS OF SWITZERLAND; AN OPERA, IN THREE ACTS, AS PERFORMED BY THE OLD AMERICAN COMPANY, IN NEW-YORK; TO WHICH IS SUBJOINED A BRIEF HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF SWITZERLAND, FROM THE DISSOLUTION OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE, TO THE FINAL ESTABLISHMENT OF THE HELVETIC CONFEDERACY, BY THE BATTLE OF SEMPACH.
NEW-YORK: Printed by T. & J. SWORDS, No. 99 Pearl-Street. —1796.—
PREFACE.
IN the summer of the year 1794, a dramatic performance, published in London, was left with me, called HELVETIC LIBERTY. I was requested to adapt it to our stage. After several perusals, I gave it up, as incorrigible; but, pleased with the subject, I recurred to the history of Switzerland, and composed the Piece now presented to the public.
Any person, who has the curiosity to compare the two pieces, will observe that I have adopted three of the imaginary characters, from HELVETIC LIBERTY,—the Burgomaster, Lieutenant, and Rhodolpha: I believe they are, however, strictly my own. The other similarities are the necessary consequences of being both founded on the same historic fact.
Should the reader meet with thoughts, expressions, or even a line, which is not new, I hope he will acquit me of any intention to impose on him; and consider it rather as the [Page vi] effect of a treacherous memory. For instance, that line of Portia's—
since the printing of the first sheet, I understand to be the property of Lady Randolph, with only the trifling alteration of "How" into "So."
The principal liberty taken with history, is, that I have concentrated some of the actions of these heroic mountaineers; making time submit to the laws of the Drama. But the reader will not have that sublime pleasure invaded, which is ever felt in the contemplation of virtuous characters: Tell, Furst, Melchthal, Staffach, and Winkelreid, are not the children of poetic fiction.
In the historical account of Switzerland, subjoined, actions are referred to their proper dates; and the best information given, of this early period of Helvetic history, that I could collect.
PROLOGUE.
CHARACTERS.
- William Tell, Burgher of Altdorf, Canton of Uri,
- Mr. Hodgkinson.
- Walter Furst, of Uri,
- Mr. Johnson.
- Werner Staffach, of Schweitz,
- Mr. Hallam, jun.
- Arnold Melchthal, of Underwalden,
- Mr. Tyler.
- Gesler, Austrian Governor of Uri,
- Mr. Cleveland.
- Lieutenant to Gesler,
- Mr. Jefferson.
- Burgomaster of Altdorf,
- Mr. Prigmore.
- Conrad, a seller of wooden ware, in Altdorf,
- Mr. Hallam.
- Leopold, Duke of Austria,
- Mr. King.
- Bowmen,
- Messrs. Lee, Durang, &c.
- Pikemen,
- Messrs. Munto, Tomkins, &c.
- Burghers,
- Messrs. Des Moulins, Woolls, &c.
- Portia, Tell's wife,
- Mrs. Melmoth.
- Rhodolpha, Walter Furst's daughter,
- Miss Broadhurst.
- Cecily, a basket woman,
- Mrs. Hodgkinson.
- Boy, Tell's son,
- Miss Harding.
- Maidens of Uri,
- Madame Gardie, Madame Val, Miss Brett, &c.
Scene lies in the City of Altdorf and its Environs. Time, part of two Days.
THE ARCHERS; OR, MOUNTAINEERS OF SWITZERLAND.
ACT FIRST.
SCENE FIRST.
I BELIEVE I'm out rather too early with my ware; there is scarce any body stirring; however, I'll sing on, and endeavour charitably to break people's rest, and put them in mind of their wants.
SONG.
SONG.
Yaw—yaw—A murrain on the fleas for driving me from my cock-loft so early—It's in vain to spend my breath and waste good music; for there is nothing to be mov'd by it but brick-walls and pavers; and they don't seem to be in a dancing mood. O ho! here's Cecily abroad with her baskets—if it wasn't an ungentlemanly suspicion one might think the fleas had found their way to her bolster.
Well Conrad, what's the news with you?
News? why, the mountaineers are cutting down all the trees to make cross-bows and arrows, and I shall find none to make bowls. There's likely to be a war.
I'm glad on't.
You're glad on't? Well, that shows a christian-like disposition in you. Pray now your reason? I should like to know the depth of a basket-woman's politics.
I'll tell you—they will press all you jack-ass fellows for soldiers, and then we shall have better business.
Sound reason and good logical conclusions, by the mass! I shall ever hold thy wit in higher estimation for thy politics: for trust me, Cecily, from the governor to the basket-girl we all build on the same broad bottom, interest, girl: but the mischief of it is, this war is too near home. One can hear with such a glorious cool courage of some ten or fifteen thousand tall fellows chop'd into crows' meat, at a convenient distance; but when one don't know but his own carcase may be served up for one of the dishes, it is apt to damp the appetite.
You learn'd such a flourishing way of talking, while you liv'd with the lawyer, that one can hardly tell what you mean.
Why, then, the bowmen, they say, are all preparing long-bow, cross-bow, and quivers; the old soldiers, who formerly served at Zuric, are scouring up their batter'd helmets and cuirasses, new grinding their swords, and sharpening their pikes, to oppose our governor here, Gesler; who, on his part, is raising recruits to join his Austrians, to keep our peasantry under: so, between one party or the other, a man must fight whether his stomach inclines to it or not.
And which side are you?
What a question to a patriot—whether he will fight for or against his country!
Why, you know, Conrad, you told me that most people's interest had a broad bottom; and knowing, that as a seller of [Page 12] bowls, you have a pretty wide consicence, I did not know but the bottom of your interest might be as broad as the best of them.
No, Cecily, since I must fight, I'll take leave of poor Dapple and go join the bowmen.
I shall like you the better for it as long as I live—if you're not killed.
Why, you should like me still better for dying for my country.
Should I? Well, may be I should; but some how or another I shall never like a dead man as well as a live one.
Well, I don't know but your taste is as well founded as your politics. Will you go with me Cecily?
For what?
To carry my knapsack.
Why, Dapple might do that.
Aye, but a soldier is never allow'd to carry any other beast of burthen with him but his wife. Of wives he generally takes care to have enough.
You are an impudent good-natured rogue, and I don't care if I do. But you don't think I'll go without you marry me?
No, certainly not! You don't suppose I would think of leading the beast without the halter?
Where is that fellow sneaking?—Seize him!—Gentlemen, I am beating up for volunteers to serve our emperor Albert, and our noble governor Gesler. We wish none but those who freely enter into the service.—Hand-cuff that rascal till you get him safe to the castle.—We are above kidnapping men into the service.
Yes, I think you are—this is wolf-napping I suppose. If ever I get clear, you'll not catch me napping again.
We have the greatest tenderness for the rights of the subject. If the rascal attempts to speak gag him.
Ergo! the subject has no right to speak—mum.
What can be so honorable as the profession of arms? If a mere citizen looks sour at a gentleman soldier, damme, we run him through the body on the spot. These are privileges, gentlemen, to which we invite you—these are privileges the emperor offers. Pray, gentlemen, are you burghers or merely inhabitants?
Burghers.
You see, gentlemen, we only invite you to happiness.
I never knew what happiness was before.
These arms alone would inspire courage into the breast of a poltroon: look at this helmet gentlemen.
Slave!
Slave! When our corps is complete, and a few more Austrians arrive, we shall see who are the slaves, and who the masters. Lead the gentlemen volunteers to the castle, and put them in training directly. Use them as becomes gentlemen who have freely chosen the honorable profession of blood-letting; and if any one of them is obstinate or sulky, let him run the gauntlet through the regiment, by way of commencing acquaintance.
But what's to become of Dapple?
We'll take care of him.
And my bowls?
We'll take care of every thing belonging to you.
O! you're too kind. Cecily, will you go with me?
Through the world, Conrad.
O! you belong to him too—I'll take care of you.
I can take care of myself, thank ye.
Don't affront him, Cecily, or mayhap you'll have to run the gauntlet too, by way of commencing acquaintance with the regiment.
These soldiers are devilish kind.
Such kindness does not suit for me.
Strike up drums.
SCENE SECOND.
It won't come out.
O! thou'rt thy father's, soul and body, lad!
How my heart sinks to see these preparations!
First may I weep upon his grassy tomb.
Ha! dost thou feel it then?
SONG.
SCENE THIRD.
Better all die!
The manner?
And join in it!
And I, for Underwalden and myself.
Who, like Diana, bursts from yonder grove?
A boon, a boon, Rhodolpha begs a boon!
Arise, my child.
First, father, give assent.
In nought becoming did I e'er deny thee.
Aught unbecoming did I ever ask?
Thou hast cheated me to this assent.
SONG.
SONG.
ACT SECOND.
SCENE FIRST.
THIS, Sir, is your post; and pay attention to my orders; for if you deviate in the least, you shall be shot through with arrows, 'till you look like a porcupine. In the first place, you are not to stir beyond this line,
without further orders. Secondly, every person who comes this way you are to challenge thus—"Who comes there?"
Who comes there?
And then, looking in a soldier-like manner at the governor's hat, cry—"Bow."
Bow.
Aye, as happy as me.
As well as we can.
Which nobody knows.
In blows.
O dear! O dear! O dear! I'm afraid this pleasant life will be the death of me. This cuirass was made for Goliah of Gath's great grand-father. A dozen arrows might pass through and through me without ever touching my body. I think I must look like a great tin-cannister, with a stake run through the middle of it. I don't wonder your Austrian soldiers stand firm, for 'twill take the strength of two men to put one in motion. Who comes there?
Hold your tongue, rascal.
Bow.
Scoundrel.
Mum.
There is no enticeing or persuading the citizens to take up arms. I always thought I had a knack at wheedling; but I can pick up nothing but the very refuse of creation; fellows that the crows have had the choice of before me, and have turned up their noses at and left; and even those I am obliged to press.
But where lags the emperor, Sir? Methinks he is rather slow in his movements. If he don't come soon, these damn'd dogs will come down from their hills and dish us up for sauce to the carrion-carcasses of our soldiers.
Like capers to mutton.
Mum.
A very pleasant kind of plantation;—and new.
The governor is a very pleasant, good-looking, kind sort of a gentleman. I should like to see him at his country house, walking about among those groves he talk'd of.
Peace, scoundrel! If you are heard to speak any other words, while on your post, but those I put into your mouth, you shall have a lash for every monosyllable.
Who comes there?
Bow.
O don't shoot Mistress Rhodolpha! Why don't you know me? Don't you know poor Conrad the bowl-man.
What dost thou there?
I'm set here to cry bow at every body that comes along.
A kind of watch-dog, ha! art not asham'd?
No, not ashamed, Mistress; but as much mortified as you or any other good friend to the welfare of my spirit could wish my flesh to be. The governor's lieutenant has taken me by force, and made a volunteer of me. And, what's worst of all, they have taken poor Dapple, my ass, and enlisted him among the cavalry.
So I would if I could get out.
Get out! Why art not out? What art thou in?
Why, don't you see I'm i'th' inside of my coat? If you will send three or four of your father's bowmen to run away with me, I shall thank you all my life; but as to running away with myself, it is totally impossible. You need never expect any Austrian deserters.
Thank you, I'll try.—But here comes the fat burg [...]master: —don't seem as if you knew me.
Who comes there?
Friend.
Bow.
Ha, ha, ha! In the name of hunger and thirst what art thou?
Who comes there?
Why dost not answer, fellow? Knowest thou not my authority? Who art thou?
Why, it's hard to say, Sir; for a man that's under orders not to speak; but if I might think, I should suppose that I was your worship's armour-bearer.
Ha, ha, ha! I should not have thought that humour would have made a dwelling place of thy carcase. Ha! my lass of the hills, art thou there? My pretty Rhodolpha—Why that look of scorn? Come, unbend thy brow.—How does my old friend Walter, thy father?
He claims no title to a traitor's friendship.
Ha, ha!—ye know me not—I, a traitor!—no, no, I am one of Switzerland's best friends.
A friend to nought, but to thyself, art thou.
And am not I a part of Switzerland?
Aye, and no small part neither.—You'll take care of one mountain at least.—When I have seen your worship walk of a warm day, I have thought you were very like Mount Blanc.
How so? thou perpendicular line, without breadth or solidity!
First, your huge overhanging sides, threatening to crush any thing that came near your foot: then, the snow upon the summit there; and as you walk'd it seem'd to melt, and several streams came meandering over your cheek till they were lost among the snow-hills on your worship's chin—then came another stream, rushing in a cataract off the promontory of your nose, and falling into the gulph below. I have sometimes thought that I could see the wild goats skipping about among the craggs—
Why, thou thing of nought—
I beg your worship's pardon, I'll 'bate the goats.
If thou utterest any more words, save what thy duty requireth, I'll have thee box'd up for a skeleton;—thou wilt not need dissection. Now, my pretty lass of the hills, leave thy flouting looks, and tell thy father, from me, that he had better quit his practices against the emperor. The emperor is a good emperor, and pays his servants well; and there is much good eating and drinking in Switzerland, for men of Walter's note.
Eating!
Ay, trust me, damsel, there is much virtue in eating and drinking.
Tut, tut,—this is all words, and words are wind, and wind is emptiness! A man must take care of his own interest, and his own person, or no one else will do it.—And let me tell ye, damsel, a man of my size has a great deal to take care of.
Think not, young woman, we will bear all this. Respect for the emperor, forbids that we, his officer, should put up with any indignity. Thou art in our power; therefore, as a mark of submission, bow thy knee to the governor's hat, the representative of Albert.
Perhaps, then, they'll promote Dapple to be an ambassador.
Thou shalt be punish'd, fellow, for thy tongue. Meantime, damsel, obey, or we will force thee.
What, would'st thou murder me? Soldier, defend the emperor's officer.
Who comes there?
SONG.
By the mass! she's the finest girl in Switzerland!—Cecily excepted.
Soldier!
Who comes there?
Who sticks here! thou mean'st—What a young tygress! Come hither, rascal, and help me up.
A soldier should never leave his post:—But, if you will come here I will help you.
What, dost thou make a jest of me?
Heav'n forbid that I should help your worship—to do that.
I would not have any body see me thus. Surely that is the governor—I must off—O! you vile dog—O! you curs'd—
A perfect grey-hound by the mass! ha, ha, ha!
SCENE SECOND.
Sad times, neighbour.
Aye, we shall soon have Albert and his Austrians quarter'd upon us.
No doubt, no doubt! and then farewell happiness in Uri. Would it not be better to resist by arms?
Why, truly, neighbour, I fear that would only make things worse. He would then hang us for rebels, and seize all our property into the bargain.
Hush! here comes Tell.
Hear Tell! hear William!
We know it!
No other object's worth a good man's thought!
You may repent this boldness ere 'tis long.
No, William, no!
We'll live, or die, with thee!
Equal rights, equal laws, equal liberty!
Seize him!
Bind him!
Why, to tell you the truth, Master Tell, we are reinforced by a part of the emperor's van-guard; who just now arrived, after gaining a victory over the men of Underwalden.
A victory!
Why, to be sure, it was not so much a victory as an advantage; that is, our troops suffered the rascals to cut to pieces a few hundred men; while the rest, making a glorious change of position, threw themselves, by a forced march, into the castle here.—So we are strong, my blustering cock. Follow with the prisoner.
O, heaven be prais'd! the glorious game's begun!
SCENE THIRD.
Who comes there? A murrain on this drowsiness!—Yaw —I was up so early—ay, and a pretty morning's work I've [Page 43] made of it! None of the burghers pass this way: so the governor's hat has nobody's bows but mine—and, to say the truth, they are rather on the nod order—familiar.—I don't see that they intend to relieve me; so I'll e'en sit myself down, draw my head into my shell, and nap it a while.
Why, William, thou art warm. Thou let'st thy passion over-rule thy judgment: which is not well in men of note like thee; to whom the rabble look for an example. Thou hast vilified the good order and discipline of our Austrian friends.
William, thou know'st me not. The good of Switzerland is ever in my thought. Indeed, I fear much thinking yet will be the death of me; or waste me down to nothing. From all my cogitations, I conclude, that we should yield these trifling forms and tokens of obedience to the emperor, in return for his protection.—It is but reasonable, too, that the emperor should tax our peasantry, to pay his soldiers.—'Tis but right. —Such men as thee, [...]ow, William, Albert loves, and would appoint to office, if thou would'st a good example to the vulgar set, and yield him due respect.—Yet bow to yonder pole, and all shall be well with thee.
Ha, ha! to hear men talk of smiling at the gallows—as if hanging were a laughing matter.—It's pride, rank pride— Heaven keep me from such distinction! The very thought of suffocation choaks me. Yet we must all die. All flesh is [Page 45] mortal. If so, I have a double portion of mortality. This Tell never knew the joys of good living, or he would not be so ready to die. He eats when he's hungry, and drinks when he's dry.—Now, I eat that I may be hungry; provoking Appetite to the field, that I may have the pleasure of slaying him. While I am enabled to do this, I wish no change—No, no, 'tis far better to hold my office from the emperor, than to depend upon the voices of a parcel of razor-fac'd rogues, who envy me my ruddy cheeks, and eye my portly walk, with as keen a glance, as if I was a well-fed ox for the governor's table.
O dear! O dear! I'm quite out of breath with running.— I wonder I had'n't broke every bone in my skin, in jumping out of that nasty, narrow window. And now I am out, I don't know where to look for Conrad. What, in the name of shell-fish, is this? O lud! O lud! O lud! Sure as the world it's my poor Conrad. They've murder'd him for his patriotism, box'd him up in an iron barrel, and throw'd him over the castle wall.
Who comes there?
No, he is'n't dead. Now I have it! they've set him here for a sentry, and the stupid fellow has gone to sleep.—It's well nobody else found him.—Ha, ha, ha! what a figure!— I'll tickle his nose with a straw, 'till I wake him.
SONG.
Bow.
Who comes there?
O, Cecily! is it you? I dreamt that the governor's lieutenant was blowing snuff up my nose. Where hast been Cecily?
Why, I've been lock'd up, all the morning, in the lieutenant's closet.
Ha!—lock'd up all the morning, with the lieutenant, in a closet!—Why—hey—he is a recruiting officer to be sure—
I did'n't say any such thing.—I tell you he was'n't with me. He very civilly askt me to walk in, as he had something to say about you. So, says he, "I must go out a little while: stay here 'till I come back." Out he went; lockt the door; and I saw no more of him.
Aye, he wanted to make a volunteer of you.
So, I jumpt out of the window, and come to look for you.
That's a dear good girl! O, Cecily! I've had a hard time of it, since I saw you. Such drilling, thumping, and fisting; and what's worst of all, I have not had a morsel of breakfast.
How shall I help you, Conrad?
If I could once get away and join the bowmen, then I could marry you; and mistress Rhodolpha would promote you to be one of her virgins.
That would be pure.
Now, Cecily, if you will put on my cuirass and helmet, and stand sentry in my place, I may get off before they find out I'm gone.
What, that thing?
Yes, its a kind of a closet.
Well, I wont object to going into a closet to serve you, Conrad.
I don't know how I shall get out, unless I lie down and creep out of it, like a shrimp out of a lobster-shell. Here I come.
I don't see but you make as good a soldier as I did. You will follow as soon as you get rid of the lieutenant and his guards?
Aye, never fear me.
I don't: for if they can keep a woman away from the pretty fellow she loves, they must have found out a new system of politics. Good bye, Cecily. I hope they will pursue me with cuirassiers only.
I hope he will get clear. Poor fellow! he has had a tedious time of it here. I'll sing a bit of a song, to pass away time, while I'm in my cage.
SONG.
[Page 48]No, hang that! it's too dismal; I won't sing that. Let me see—aye—now for a merry stave.
O dear! this is worse than t'other. It puts me in mind of poor Conrad, who, I verily believe, will be hang'd.—
Halt! Well, rascal, why don't you challenge? Who have we here?
Do'n't be angry, Sir, it's only I;—got out of your closet into Conrad's.
O ho! so the rascal has deserted. Order a party of horse to scour the suburbs, and bring in all the fast-day-looking fellows they find. I have got you though, my pretty lass. Come along—I'll take care of you.
Why, you don't press women, do you?
SCENE FOURTH.
I will have way! who shall oppose my sorrows?
Whence this intrusion?
'Tis Grief's privilege.
Albert is slain! The emperor is slain!
What say'st thou man? Art mad?
Now prais'd be heav'n!
Where is the army?
Who commands?
Leopold of Austria.
I will not think so.
Master!—nay, pardon me, I will be thankful.
SCENE FIFTH.
Who did the glorious deed?
The praise is due to wonder-working heaven.
SONG.
Gesler hath seiz'd on Tell, and threatens death.
They say that Leopold leads the army on.
ACT THIRD.
SCENE FIRST.
BE cautious, Werner, and elude suspicion.
Will Tell accept the tyrant's curst conditions?
Gesler is coming; let us wait th' event.
Hence with that clamorous woman! she disturbs us.
My father will not hurt me.
I will obey my husband.
Oh, my child!
Portia, lead hence the boy.
My child! my child!
I claim my liberty.
I do demand fulfillment of conditions.
Tyrant!
SCENE SECOND.
SONG.
SONG.
Arnold, well met. Where lies the Austrian force?
He hath not, Sir.
Who comes this way?
By whom did Gesler fall?
O, curse on Gesler! then he did deceive him.
SONG.
Even now.
Now, now!
And who shall lead the war?
Who but thyself?
Tell! Tell! brave William Tell!
'Tis order'd well.
SCENE THIRD.
If you please, Sir, although the rascal was a volunteer, you shall set in judgment on him, because, he is a native; and we must keep terms with the burghers a while longer. You condemn him, and I'll see him shot.
Yes, they'll do my business between them. Indeed, gentlemen, you give yourselves too much trouble on any account.
Well, since you will have it so, I will sit in the judgment-seat. But I fear my tender mercy will prevent me from doing justice.
Come hither, rascal! I see halter in your face.
It's very much at your honour's service.
You have a gallows countenance. You are the sentinel that suffer'd me to be insulted this morning.
I thought your worship was big enough to take care of yourself.
What! does the scoundrel speak?
Why, I'm not put here to cry "Bow;" am I?
The villain is too light to be hung; his weight would never draw a noose tight enough for suffocation. And, as for burning, 'twould be too merciful—'twould be over in an instant —he'd blaze up, and go out like a whiff of straw. Therefore I sentence him to be shot through with arrows. Choose your best archers; for a common marksman would never hit him.
What's all this for? Nobody has accused me yet. I think my trial begins at the end—condemnation.
If it please your worship, we are a little out of form. Let me begin by declaring his crime. May it please your worship, this rascal—
My name is Conrad Steinhart.
This rascal is a deserter—He cannot deny it—He was taken in the fact. Therefore, in the emperor's name, I demand judgment.
You cannot deny it, rascal; for you was taken in the fact.
I do deny it. You want to shoot me, because, I would not help you out of the mud, this morning. And you want me shot, that you may have Cecily all to yourself. Why don't you examine my witnesses? Send for Cecily.
What have we to do with Cecily?
That's more than I know. I have to do with her though: so, send for her.
Where is she?
In your closet, I suppose.
O, Conrad! have I found you again?
So, my fine gentleman, you're here, are you? You thought I was safe enough, because you lock'd me up in a two-pair-of-stairs-bed-room.—
Bed-room! Cecily?
Aye, that he did. He thought the windows were too high; but, I fackins, let me alone for that—ha, ha, ha! Pray, did you ever hear of such a thing as tying the sheets together, and letting oneself down?—Ha, ha, ha!—But, what are you doing here, Conrad?
I'm not likely to do much, Cecily; but I'm afraid I'm about to suffer.
Oh, the goodness! the marcies! Why, they're not going to kill you? What will become of me? What will become of me? O, O, O!
Fellow! you have been condemned, found guilty, and tried. What have you to say against being immediately shot?
I hope your worship don't think of such a thing—I have a great deal to say, and a great deal to do—I can't possibly think of dying to-day—
Then you shall die without thinking, you dog. Bind him to the stake. Archers, prepare.
Gentlemen—good gentlemen!—gentlemen soldiers!—comrades!—Why need you tie me?—You see I can't get away. You are all around me.—Since I must be shot, let me have a place to move in.—It's more honourable to hit a bird on the wing, than a poor devil tied to a stake—
O, O, O! Have all my prospects come to this? Am I never to be married? Never to be one of the virgins? O, O, O!
Take away that noisy woman.
You sha'n't take me away—I wo'n't go. Poor Conrad! since you must be shot, I'll stay and see the ceremony—It's the last kind office I can do you.
Don't kill me, Cecily! Your sorrow is too moving! I feel as if a little thing would make me cry.
No more of this blubbering. Archers, take aim.
A little farther off, gentlemen, if you please—A little farther off—You call yourselves marksmen—Consider your own reputations, if you will not consider my feelings—Where's the honour in hitting a poor fellow when the ends of your crossbows almost touch his teeth?—
Take aim!
Whiz! whirr! how the arrows fly about my ears! I think I'm as likely to be shot by one side as t'other. Do, Mrs. Rhodolpha, have me untied.
What, my friend Conrad, faithful to your post?
They've only changed it to a stake, Ma'am.
Thank you.—I've had a narrow squeak of it.— It was all your fault, Ma'am, you persuaded me to run away; but you came i'the nick.—Suppose we were to tie these two good-natured gentlemen to the stake. I don't know but I might hit the biggest myself.
O, it's soon done. They have just been teaching me the way to dispatch business. "You've a damn'd hanging look— You can't deny it—Tie him to the stake—Take aim."—And it's all over.
Give me but good sword, buckler, and helmet—I'll excuse the cuirass—and if I don't show you that my life is worth saving, [Page 69] may I never see Dapple an ambassador! Never see Cecily one of the virgins! or myself a bowl-man again.
SONG.
SCENE FOURTH.
SCENE FIFTH.
Art thou unhurt, my father?
Altdorf is ours—the burghers join the fight.—
Let me breathe.—How the Burgomaster would sweat if he had a little of this work.—I think I've scor'd a few of them.— For any thing I see to the contrary, I make as good a soldier as the best of them—unless it be Tell:—to be sure he does lay about him like a devil.—There's the duke, too, pays away among our bowmen, whenever he can come at them.—I'll take another touch—It's nothing to be shot at when one has room to move about; but to be tied to a stake—O! my blood curdles at the thought.—Now for a little more honour.—By the mass, there's the duke.—Too much honour is dangerous to honesty—'ware honesty.
I thank thee; for, in truth, my arm is weary.
Ha! hast thou such a mind? Sure thou art noble?
The lion and the tyger are at it—Well said lion—well said tyger—Well hit—well put—The tyger bleeds, the tyger bleeds —Huzza—Well—
—Thanks be to my head-piece! O you cowardly piece of clock-work!—strike a man behind!—I'll crack your lobster-shell, and pull you out by the heels.—Strike a man—
Aye! you may as well stand still—I know the weight of your coat—You might as well run with a house on your back—I'll unkennel you—Strike a man, and ne'er challenge him!
We hail thee, William, saviour of thy country!
I do fulfil my promise.
And here comes my reward. To be sure she is not of the most delicate;—yet, let me tell you, she's been in great demand to-day. And, if a man is to judge of his merits by his misfortunes, I think I have gone through as many perils as the best of you.
O! Conrad, I'm glad I have found you—I've had a par'lous time looking for you. There was no keeping clear of the Austrian soldiers.
Why, where are they?
Why, don't you see them all about the field there?—nasty, dead, grum looking fellows—I never could bear a dead man.
I'm very glad I wasn't killed for your sake, Cecily.
Ah! a'n't you, Conrad?
SONG.
A BRIEF HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF SWITZERLAND; FROM THE DISSOLUTION OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE, TO THE FINAL ESTABLISHMENT OF THE HELVETIC CONFEDERACY, BY THE BATTLE OF SEMPACH.
A BRIEF HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF SWITZERLAND.
WHEN a man has made any particular transaction, or individual, the subject of his pencil, or his pen, he becomes highly interested in every circumstance connected with the favourite object. But, independent of feelings of this class, which may, perhaps, be traced to vanity, every mind, fitted to conceive an idea of man's true happiness, must dwell, with an admiration bordering upon enthusiasm, on the scenery and history of Switzerland. The justly celebrated traveller, Mr. Coxe, thus begins his first letter, after entering the Canton of Shaffhausen: "I feel great delight in breathing the air of liberty: every person here has apparently the mein of content and satisfaction. The cleanliness of the houses, and of the people, is peculiarly striking; and I can trace in all their manners, behaviour and dress, some strong outlines which distinguish this happy people from the neighbouring nations."
"Of all the countries of Europe," says Voltaire in his Essai sur les moeurs et l'Esprit des Nations, "that which has preserved the simplicity of the first ages in the greatest degree, is Switzerland. If she had not thrown off the yoke of Austria, she would have had no place in the history of the world; she would have been confounded with the multitude [Page 82] of more fertile and opulent provinces, which follow the fate of those kingdoms in which they are swallowed up. A people attract no attention until they are independent. A lowering sky, a rocky and ungrateful soil, mountains and precipices, are all that nature has given to three fourths of this country. Notwithstanding which, they dispute the sovereignty of these rocks, with the same fury, with which other men contend for the possession of Naples or Asia Minor."
"Never did any people combat for their liberty so long, or so bravely, as the Swiss. They triumphed over the Austrians in more than sixty battles; and, probably, will long preserve their well-bought freedom. A country whose extent is not too great, whose people are not too rich, and whose laws are dictated by justice, ought to be free. Liberty changed even the face of nature in Switzerland. The sterile soil became fruitful; the vine was planted upon the rocks; the barren heaths cleared, and cultivated, by the hands of freemen, became fertile."
"Equality, the natural heritage of man, still subsists in Switzerland." "Simplicity, frugality, modesty, those preservatives of liberty, have, always, been their portion. They support no army to defend their frontiers, or to invade the rights of their neighbours; no fortresses to serve either against enemies or citizens; no imposts burthen the people. They support neither the pride, nor the armies of a master. Their mountains are their ramparts, and every citizen is a soldier to defend them."
There are reasons which render the history of that revolution, in which the Swiss Cantons threw off the yoke of Austria, peculiarly interesting to Americans. "The establishment of the Republics of Switzerland and Holland," says a learned and amiable author of our own country, "bears such a striking analogy to that of the United States, in the causes which produced them, and in the manner in which they were conducted, that without considering them merely as illustrious precedents, they are deserving of attention in our enquiries into the foundation of our own independence." He then proceeds to mention the privileges and the charter rights, which [Page 83] they enjoyed under the empire; their mild remonstrance to the Emperor Albert; their confederation, &c. *
Julius Caesar is the first author who takes notice of the Helvetic people, as a nation. In the beginning of his commentaries, he mentions his war with them. After being subdued by the Romans, they remained under their dominion, until the empire was destroyed, and new kingdoms established on its ruins. When the kingdom of Burgundy, of which Switzerland made a part, was divided, about the end of the twelfth century, into several petty sovereignties, the Swiss found themselves no longer united under one head. Some of the cities were imperial; others were given, by Frederick Barbarossa, to the Count of Hapsburgh, from whom the house of Austria is descended. But the priesthood seem to have seized upon the greatest portion, which we find † was parcelled out among bishops, abbés, canons, abbesses, convents and monasteries.
At the time when the greatest part of Helvetia was subject to the empire, the inhabitants of Uri, Schweitz, and Underwalden, had long enjoyed the most considerable privileges; particularly the right of being governed by their own magistrates. The clergy, and many of the nobles, indeed, had fiefs and subjects in those respective territories; and Uri received its governors from the empire; ‡ but the bulk of the people formed several communities, almost totally independent.— The chronicles of the nation carry the date of their liberty very high. They say, that, in 829, the inhabitants of these [Page 84] Cantons went to the succour of Italy, and fought under the banners of the Marquis Guidon Pusterla, against the Saracens. They add, that Pope Gregory IV. after conferring on them the title of Defenders of the Faith, obtained for them, from the Emperor Louis le Debonnaire, the privilege of governing themselves, by their own laws. Such was their situation at the death of Frederick II. in 1250. In 1251 the Cantons of Zurich, Uri, and Schweitz, entered into a strict confederacy, to protect themselves from the encroachments of the nobles and bishops, who, during the interregnum of eighteen years, when Germany was without an emperor, endeavoured to extend their power and enslave the people. But even this confederacy was not sufficient to defend them against these rapacious robbers; and Schweitz, Uri, and Underwalden, were obliged to put themselves under the protection of Rhodolph of Hapsburgh; who, in 1273, being chosen emperor, terminated the interregnum.
The nobles, now, formally accused these three Cantons of rebellion, and of demolishing their castles; but Rhodolph, who had himself to struggle with these smaller tyrants, gave judgment in favour of the people. He received a small revenue from these Cantons, and appointed a governor, who took cognizance of all criminal causes. The rights, however, and privileges of the people, were expressly reserved.
Rhodolph, some time after his accession to the Imperial throne, listened to the ambitious schemes of his son Albert, who was desirous to form Helvetia into a dutchy. For this purpose, the emperor purchased the domains of several abbeys, and other considerable fiefs in Switzerland, as well in the Canton of Schweitz, as in the neighbouring territories. The three Cantons, induced by the great increase of power the emperor gained by these acquisitions, prudently renewed their alliance, and obtained a confirmation of their privileges; which, upon the death of Rhodolph, were again confirmed by his successor, Adolphus of Nassau. But when Albert was afterwards elected emperor, he refused to ratify their rights, and endeavoured to seize the absolute dominion of Switzerland. With this design, [Page 85] he appointed one Gesler, or Grisler, to the government of Uri; and one Landerberg, to that of Underwalden. They were ordered to reduce the three Cantons, by corruption or force; and were fitted, by the baseness of their minds, for the task.
These governors, not succeeding by the engines of corruption, among men who knew that happiness consisted in virtue, and that without liberty, there could be neither, employed every mode of cruelty and violence to subdue them; until the irritated people leagued to throw off, by a generous effort, this intolerable oppression.
It was under these circumstances that Werner Staffach, of Schweitz, Walter Furst, of Uri, and Arnold Melchthal, of Underwalden, (men, says Voltaire, the difficulty of pronouncing whose names has alone prevented their celebrity) planned the famous revolution, which restored liberty to the three Cantons, and laid the foundation of the Helvetic confederacy. Each of them entrusted three friends with the scheme; and, as a little leaven leaveneth the whole lump, from these twelve the whole of Uri, Schweitz, and Underwalden, were soon in a ferment. While the conspiracy was yet forming, Gesler, the governor of Uri, carrying his tyranny to a ridiculous extreme, caused one of his hats to be set up on a pole, in the market square of Altdorf, and ordered all persons, under pain of death, to salute it as a mark of obedience to the emperor. William Tell openly refusing to yield this proof of slavish obedience, the governor determined to make him feel the weight of his indignation. He condemned him to be hung; and pardoned him, only on condition of his cleaving, with an arrow, at a certain distance, * an apple placed on the head of his son. The trembling father drew, and was so fortunate as to strike the apple, and leave the boy unhurt. Gesler, perceiving a second arrow sticking in a part of Tell's garment, asked him what it was for? "For thee," said the Swiss, "if the first had harmed my boy."
[Page 86]From the description which Mr. Keysler gives of the statue of Tell, in the Arsenal at Berne, we may gather, at least, the notions of the Switzers concerning the person of their favourite hero, and the dress which, either through tradition, or other information, they assign to that early period. "At the end of the hall is an excellent wooden image of the famous William Tell: he is aiming at the apple on the head of his little son, who stands opposite to him: the hands and eyes are admirably expressed. He appears to have been a tall raw-boned man, with a very honest countenance; and, according to the fashion of the times, one half of his coat is red, and the other black and yellow stripes, alternately: his breeches and stockings are of one single piece; and an arrow sticks in his coat, behind his head: the boy is laughing, as apprehending no danger."
As the story of the apple is the only part of the history of this revolution which has ever been questioned, I shall here insert that passage of Mr. Cox [...], in which he mentions this tale, and the reasons for and against believing it.
"Having re-embarked at Brunnen, we soon entered the third branch, or the lake of Uri; the scenery of which is so grand and sublime, that its impression will never be erased from my mind. Imagine to yourself a deep and narrow lake, about nine miles in length, bordered on both sides with rocks uncommonly wild and romantic, and, for the most part, perpendicular; with forests of beech and pine growing down their sides, to the very edge of the water: indeed, the rocks are so entirely steep and overhanging, that we scarcely observed more than four or five places where we could have landed. Upon the highest point of the Seelisburgh, we observed a small chapel that seemed inaccessible; and below it the little village of Gruti, near which the three heroes of Switzerland (Furst, Staffach, and Melchthal) are said to have taken reciprocal oaths of fidelity, when they planned the famous revolution. On the opposite side appears the chapel of William Tell; erected in honour of that hero, upon the very spot where (it is said) he leaped from the boat, in which he was conveying, [Page 87] as a prisoner, to Kussnacht, and shot the tyrant Gesler. It is built upon a rock that projects into the lake under a hanging wood; a situation, amid scenes so strikingly awful, as must strongly affect even the most dull and torpid imagination! On the inside of this chapel, the several actions of William Tell are coarsely painted. While we were viewing them, we observed the countenances of our watermen glistening with exultation; and they related to us, with much spirit and sensibility, the cruelties and tyranny of Gesler, governor of Uri, and the intrepid behaviour of their glorious deliverer. Indeed, I have frequently remarked with pleasure, the national enthusiasm which so generally prevails in this country; and have greatly admired the fire and animation with which the people discourse of those famous men among their ancestors, to whom they are indebted for that happy state of independence which they now enjoy. This laudable spirit is continually supported and encouraged by the number of statues, and other memorials, of the ancient Swiss heroes, which are so common in every town and village throughout Switzerland. Among these, Tell is the most distinguished, and he seems to be the peculiar favourite of the common people: the reason is obvious, for his story partakes greatly of the marvellous.
A few years ago a treatise, entitled Fable Danoise, was published at Berne; in which the author calls in question the history of William Tell. Though his arguments in general are by no means conclusive, yet he mentions two circumstances, which, if true, are convincing proofs, that much fiction is interwoven with the whole account: for the author asserts that the incident of Tell's shooting the apple from the head of his son, is not recorded by any of the cotemporary historians, although they give the minutest accounts of the governor's tyranny; and that the first writer who takes notice of it, is Petermann Etterlin, of Lucerne, who lived in the latter end of the fifteenth century, near two hundred years after the fact is supposed to have happened. Besides, a story of the same kind is related in the Danish annals by Saxo Grammaticus, with scarcely any difference but that of names: Herod, king [Page 88] of Denmark, supplies the place of the governor of Uri; and Tocco that of William Tell; and this event, which is said to have happened in 965, is attended also with nearly the same incidents as those recorded in the Swiss account. Nevertheless, it is far from being a necessary consequence, that, because the authenticity of the story concerning the apple is liable to some doubts; therefore, the whole tradition relating to Tell is fabulous. Neither is it a proof against the reality of a fact, that it is not mentioned by any cotemporary historians. The general history of William Tell is repeatedly celebrated in several old German songs, so remarkable for their ancient dialect and simplicity, as almost to raise the deeds they celebrate, above all reasonable suspicion: add to this, the constant tradition of the country, together with two chapels erected some centuries ago, in memory of his exploits.
The three Cantons were so much offended with the author for throwing any doubt upon the exploits of their ancient hero, that they presented a remonstrance to the sovereign council of Berne: and the pamphlet was publicly burnt at Uri. In this instance, their national prejudices (if they really deserve that name) become, in some measure, meritorious and respectable."
Be the story of the apple false or true, there appears to be no doubt that Tell having been seized by Gesler, he intended lodging him in the castle of Kussnacht; and did himself accompany the prisoner across the lake of Uri. This, if the tale of the apple be true, must have been after having granted his life on condition of the trial of his archery; when, as the Swiss historians say, Gesler, being irritated by Tell's reply concerning the second arrow, determined to make him finish his days in a dungeon. During their voyage, a sudden gust arose, which agitated the waters of the lake, and rendered the boat totally ungovernable in the hands of the Austrians. No one was calm but Tell. The boat was driving upon the overhanging rocks which border the lake, and inevitable death seemed to await all in her; when Gesler turned his attention to Tell, and saw in him the only object of hope. With the [Page 89] baseness, which is a part of the tyrant's character, he now begged his life of the injured man. Tell looked upon his chains. They were instantly unlocked, and he, with that skill which the unvitiated man will ever acquire while active to help himself and aid others, equally secure upon the mountain's snowy brow, the valley of ice, or the bosom of the lake, seizing the helm, and commanding his armed masters, guides the boat to a part of the shore more accessible than the rest, and sheltered from the blast. As they approached the place of landing, Tell secured the cross-bow and arrow of one of the guard, and, watching his opportunity, leaped upon the rocks, and, instantly turning, shot the governor dead; * then joining the conspirators, he animated them to an immediate execution of their designs.
About the beginning of January, 1308, the people arose, seized the castles without bloodshed, and by a moderation almost incredible in an irritated people, a mark of virtue perhaps unexampled, the governors were peaceably conducted to the frontiers and released; having no condition exacted from them but simply an oath never to return to Switzerland. Thus four private men, without wealth, or the advantages which at that time were annexed to birth, but animated by a love of their country, and a just hatred against tyrants, were the immortal founders of Helvetic liberty!
Albert immediately made preparations to attack the Cantons, and marched with an army against them; but before entering their country he was assassinated by his nephew, John of Hapsburgh, Duke of Suabia. The occasion of this assassination, and the circumstances attending it, were as follow:— Albert, as guardian to his nephew, John of Hapsburgh, had taken possession of his hereditary dominions in Switzerland, [Page 90] and refused, under various pretences, to deliver them up to him. At length, wearied with repeated and fruitless solicitations, John entered into a conspiracy against the emperor, with Rhodolph de Warth, Ulric de Palme, Walter de Eschenback, and Conrad de Tagerfeld.
The emperor dined at Baden, in his way to Rheinfelden, a town in the circle of Suabia, where the empress, his consort, had collected a considerable body of troops, with which he purposed invading the three Cantons of Uri, Schweitz, and Underwalden, to bend them to his yoke. Cotemporary historians, who have recorded the minutest circumstances, in this whole transaction, relate, that Albert was in high spirits during the repast; and, that his nephew again entreating to be put in possession of his hereditary dominions, the emperor, with an air of banter, placed a garland of flowers upon his head, adding, at the same time, "This will be more suitable to you, for the present, than the cares of a troublesome government." This taunt had such an effect upon the young prince, that he burst into tears, flung away the flowers, and could not be prevailed upon to sit down to the table.
After dinner, Albert continued his journey on horseback, accompanied by his son Leopold, the conspirators, and his usual attendants; and came near the town of Windish, in the Canton of Berne, to the Reuss, over which river passengers were usually ferried upon a raft. The conspirators passed over first, and were followed by Albert. As he was riding gently on, expecting his son Leopold, and the remainder of his suite, he was suddenly beset by the assassins. One of them seizing his horse's bridle, John of Hapsburgh reproached him for his injustice, in detaining his dominions, and struck him on the neck with his sword; Rhodolph de Warth wounded him in the side; and Ulric de Palme clove his head with a sabre. In this condition they left him expiring upon the ground.
This assassination was committed the first of May, 1308, in the open day, and in the sight of his son Leopold, and the rest of his court, who had not as yet passed the river; and [Page 91] who, though witnesses to the murder, yet could not assist the emperor. The field lies between the Aar and the Reuss, not far from the junction of those two rivers; and the very spot, where he was massacred, is marked by a convent, erected by his wife Elizabeth, and his daughter Agnes. The place was called Köningsfelden, or Kingsfield; a name it retains to this day. The remains of the emperor were buried in the convent of Witterling, from whence they were afterwards transported to Spire, and there interred. *
The assassins fled to the Cantons of Uri, Schweitz, and Underwalden, expecting to find a sure asylum in a nation, which Albert was preparing to invade. But the generous natives, detesting a crime of so atrocious a nature, although committed upon the person of their greatest and most formidable enemy, refused to protect the murderers: jealous, indeed, of their liberties, but too wise to think that guilt would support them. †
In 1315, Leopold, Duke of Austria, marched against the confederate Cantons, at the head of twenty thousand troops; and, endeavouring to force his way into Schweitz, at the Straits of Morgaten, received a total defeat, from thirteen hundred Swiss, who were posted upon the mountains. These brave republicans, after having thrown the Austrians into disorder, by rolling down rocks from the hills, descended, and pursued them with dreadful slaughter. A cotemporary author says, that he saw Leopold return, after the combat, to Winterther, as pale as death; and that the action was rather a massacre than a battle. If we may believe cotemporary historians, the Swiss lost but fourteen men in this memorable engagement, which insured their independence.
From the circumstance of this decisive engagement being fought in the Canton of Schweitz, the other two Cantons, it is supposed, adopted the name of Schweitz for the confederacy, which spread over the whole country that now bears it, as the other Cantons joined the league. Thus the name of the [Page 92] union serves to commemorate the victory by which their happiness was secured.
Some years after the battle of Morgaten, Lucerne joined the confederacy; and this accession enabled it, in 1386, to resist all the efforts of a great and implacable enemy. In that year, Leopold, Duke of Austria, invaded Switzerland with a numerous army; when the combined troops gained a bloody victory at Sempach, in which Leopold lost his life. The confederated Swiss were but one thousand three hundred men, badly armed, and on foot. Their offensive weapons were only their large swords and their halberts: for shields, they had only pieces of wood tied to the arm, to ward off their enemies blows. In the accounts of this battle, an instance of private valour is recorded, which would have done honour even to a Grecian or a Roman name; and only requires the pen of a Thucydides, or a Livy, to equal in fame the exploits of the most admired heroes of antiquity. The Austrian army, far superior in number, was drawn up in firm battalion, accoutred in heavy armour, and furnished with long pikes, which they presented before them. The Swiss troops were led to the attack in the form of a wedge, in order to open their way into the ranks of the enemy, and to break the solidity of the battalion; one soldier being in front, two behind him, then four more, and so on: such was the order in which this handful of men courageously advanced upon the enemy. The Austrians continuing for some time impenetrable, Arnold de Winkelreid, a native of Underwalden, devoted his life to the service of his country. Rushing, alone, upon the enemy, he seized as many pikes as he could grasp, presenting his breast to inevitable death: thus opening the way for his countrymen to come within the Austrian pikes, and inflaming their courage anew, they followed, and penetrated the battalion. Once enabled to use their arms with effect, nothing could resist the Swiss, and the overthrow of the Austrians was complete. They lost two thousand men, among whom they numbered six hundred and seventy six gentlemen of the first families in Germany.
[Page 93]Leopold himself might have escaped, when his troops first began to give way; but, with a magnanimity worthy of a better cause, he determined, after having been a witness to the total rout of his army, not to survive so ignominious a day: accordingly, he rushed into the thickest of the enemy, and was slain. In the arsenal of Lucerne is still preserved his armour, together with a large quantity of cords; with which, according to tradition, he intended to have bound the citizens.
Switzerland was the rock on which the house of Austria split, during more than a century. Blinded with resentment against their former subjects, and anxious to recover their lost domains in these parts, the several dukes led in person considerable armies to subdue a nation, whose spirit was unconquerable; and to obtain possession of a country, which, from its situation, was easily defended, by a handful of men, against the most numerous troops. Within the period above-mentioned, they neglected several opportunities of aggrandizing themselves in other parts; and, slighting what was more feasible, bent their whole efforts to acquire what in its very nature was unattainable. The consequence of this mistaken policy was, a continued succession of defeats, attended with a prodigious expence, and the loss of their bravest troops: until at length, convinced of their error, they totally relinquished an attempt, in which they had expended so much fruitless blood and treasure. But although several emperors of that house occasionally made alliances with the Swiss Cantons, yet it was not till the treaty of Westphalia that their independence was fully and finally acknowledged, by Ferdinand III. and the whole empire.
The government of Uri and Schweitz is entirely democratical, and nearly the same. The supreme power resides in the people at large, who are divided into several com [...]ities, from which are chosen the councils of regency. In the Lands-gemeind, or general assembly, the landamman, and the principal magistrates, are elected; and every burgher, at the age of fourteen in the Cantons of Uri and Underwalden, and of fifteen in Schweitz, has a right to vote. The councils of regency [Page 94] in Uri and Schweitz consist each of six members, and reside at the capital burghs. In this council the executive power is vested, and from this body the principal magistrates are chosen.
These two Cantons contain, including their subjects, about fifty thousand souls; and, in case of necessity, could furnish about twelve thousand militia. "Such," says Mr. Coxe, "is the purity of manners and morals among these people, as cannot easily be imagined by the inhabitants of great and opulent cities: and I cannot reflect on that affectionate patriotism which so strongly attaches them to their country, without calling to mind that beautiful description of the Swiss peasant in Goldsmith's Traveller. —
While my mind turns away with disgust from the contemplation of those scenes of vice and misery which great and opulent cities afford, it dwells with so fond a delight among the cottages and hills of Switzerland, that it is with reluctance I close this account of the events which established happiness, as an inmate among them. To those whose feelings are like my own, I recommend "Coxe's Switzerland;" (from which valuable work I have extracted the most pleasing materials of the preceding essay) where will be found an animating and accurate account of the soil, climate and appearance of this country, with the manners, laws, and virtues of its inhabitants, dictated by philanthrophy, and executed with taste.
ERRATA IN THE OPERA.
Page 10, line 7th, dele "enters" before "crying." Line 18th, for "pavers" read "pavements"
Page 11, line 23d, for "or the other" read "and the other."
Page 64, scene third, after "stage" dele "upper end."
Page 65, line 3d, for "does" read "dares."
Page 71, scene fifth, before "O, 'tis a glorious day," for "Werner" read "Walter."