Chapter XI: Part 11

It is impossible to say when the first translation of any
part of the Bible into English was made. No English Bible of
earlier date than the fourteenth century has ever been
found. But translations, even of the whole Bible, older than
Wcyliffe's are, by at least two eminent witnesses, said to
have existed. "As for olde translacions, before Wycliffe's
time," says Sir Thomas More, "they remain lawful and be in
some folkes handes." "The hole byble," he declares
(_Dyalogues_, p. 138, ed. 1530), "was long before Wycliffe's
days, by vertuous and well learned men, translated into the
English tong." And Cranmer, in his prologue to the second
edition of the "Great Bible," bears testimony equally
explicit to the translation of Scripture "in the Saxons
tongue." And when that language "waxed olde and out of
common usage," he says, the Bible "was again translated into
the newer language." There has never been any means of
testing these statements, which were probably due to some
inexplicable error. Abundant evidence exists relating to
many Saxon and later translations of various parts of the
Bible before the time of Wycliffe. Among the most notable of
the early translators were the Venerable Bede and Alfred the
Great. Some portions of Scripture were likewise translated
into Anglo-Norman in the thirteenth century. Some of the
early fragments are still preserved in English libraries.

Three versions of the Psalter in English, from the early
years of the fourteenth century, still exist, one of which
was by Richard Rolle, the Yorkshire hermit, who also
translated the New Testament.

But so far as known, the first complete Bible in English was
the work of John Wycliffe, assisted by Nicholas de
Hereford--whom some would name first in this partnership,
though the product of their joint labors is known as
"Wycliffe's Bible."

John Wycliffe, the "Morning Star of the Reformation," was
born near Richmond, Yorkshire, about 1324. He became a
fellow, and later master of Balliol College, Oxford,
afterward held several rectorships--the last being that of
Lutterworth, upon which he entered in 1374. For opposing the
papacy and certain church doctrines and practices, he was
condemned by the university, and his followers--known as
Lollards--were persecuted. Something of his life in
connection with these matters is fitly dealt with by Smyth
in connection with his account of the famous translation.

After the early Anglo-Saxon versions comes a long pause in the history of Bible translation. Amid the disturbance resulting from the Danish invasion there was little time for thinking of translations and manuscripts; and before the land had fully regained its quiet the fatal battle of Hastings had been fought, and England lay helpless at the Normans' feet. The higher Saxon clergy were replaced by the priests of Normandy, who had little sympathy with the people over whom they came, and the Saxon manuscripts were contemptuously flung aside as relics of a rude barbarism. The contempt shown to the language of the defeated race quite destroyed the impulse to English translation, and the Norman clergy had no sympathy with the desire for spreading the knowledge of the Scriptures among the people, so that for centuries those Scriptures remained in England a "spring shut up, a fountain sealed."

Yet this time must not be considered altogether lost, for during those centuries England was becoming fitted for an English Bible. The future language of the nation was being formed; the Saxon and Norman French were struggling side by side; gradually the old Saxon grew unintelligible to the people; gradually the French became a foreign tongue, and with the fusion of the two races a language grew up which was the language of united England.

Passing, then, from the quiet death-beds of Alfred and of Bede, we transfer ourselves to the great hall of the Blackfriars' monastery, London, on a dull, warm May day in 1378, amid purple robes and gowns of satin and damask, amid monks and abbots, and bishops and doctors of the Church, assembled for the trial of John Wycliffe, the parish priest of Lutterworth.

The great hall, crowded to its heavy oaken doors, witnesses to the interest that is centred in the trial, and all eyes are fixed on the pale, stern old man who stands before the dais silently facing his judges. He is quite alone, and his thoughts go back, with some bitterness, to his previous trial, when the people crowded the doors shouting for their favorite, and John of Gaunt and the Lord Marshal of England were standing by his side. He has learned since then not to put his trust in princes. The power of his enemies has rapidly grown; even the young King (Richard II) has been won over to their cause, and patrons and friends have drawn back from his side, whom the Church has resolved to crush.

The judges have taken their seats, and the accused stands awaiting the charges to be read, when suddenly there is a quick cry of terror. A strange rumbling sound fills the air, and the walls of the judgment hall are trembling to their base--the monastery and the city of London are being shaken by an earthquake! Friar and prelate grow pale with superstitious awe. Twice already has this arraignment of Wycliffe been strangely interrupted. Are the elements in league with this enemy of the Church? Shall they give up the trial?

"No!" thunders Archbishop Courtenay, rising in his place. "We shall not give up the trial. This earthquake but portends the purging of the kingdom; for as there are in the bowels of the earth noxious vapors which only by a violent earthquake can be purged away, so are these evils brought by such men upon this land which only by a very earthquake can ever be removed. Let the trial go forward!"

What think you, reader, were the evils which this pale ascetic had wrought, needing a very earthquake to cleanse them from the land? Had he falsified the divine message to the people in his charge? Was he turning men's hearts from the worship of God? Was his priestly office disgraced by carelessness or drunkenness or impurity of life?

Oh, no. Such faults could be gently judged at the tribunal in the Blackfriars' hall. Wycliffe's was a far more serious crime. He had dared to attack the corruptions of the Church, and especially the enormities of the begging friars; he had indignantly denounced pardons and indulgences and masses for the soul as part of a system of gigantic fraud; and worst of all, he had filled up the cup of his iniquity by translating the Scriptures into the English tongue; "making it," as one of the chroniclers angrily complains, "common and more open to laymen and to women than it was wont to be to clerks well learned and of good understanding. So that the pearl of the Gospel is trodden under foot of swine."

The feeling of his opponents will be better understood if we notice the position of the Church in England at the time. The meridian of her power had been already passed. Her clergy as a class were ignorant and corrupt. Her people were neglected, except for the money to be extorted by masses and pardons, "as if," to quote the words of an old writer, "God had given his sheep, not to be pastured, but to be shaven and shorn." This state of things had gone on for centuries, and the people like dumb, driven cattle had submitted. But those who could discern the signs of the times must have seen now that it could not go on much longer. The spread of education was rapidly increasing, several new colleges having been founded in Oxford during Wycliffe's lifetime. A strong spirit of independence, too, was rising among the people. Already Edward III and his parliament had indignantly refused the Pope's demand for the annual tribute to be sent to Rome. It was evident that a crisis was near. And, as if to hasten the crisis, the famous schism of the papacy had placed two popes at the head of the Church, and all Christendom was scandalized by the sight of the rival "vicars of Jesus Christ" anathematizing each other from Rome and Avignon, raising armies and slaughtering helpless women and children, each for the aggrandizing of himself.

The minds of men in England were greatly agitated, and Wycliffe felt that at such a time the firmest charter of the Church would be the open Bible in her children's hands; the best exposure of the selfish policy of her rulers, the exhibiting to the people the beautiful, self-forgetting life of Jesus Christ as recorded in the Gospels. "The sacred Scriptures," he said, "are the property of the people, and one which no one should be allowed to wrest from them. Christ and his apostles converted the world by making known the Scriptures to men in a form familiar to them, and I pray with all my heart that through doing the things contained in this book we may all together come to the everlasting life." This Bible translation he placed far the first in importance of all his attempts to reform the English Church, and he pursued his object with a vigor and against an opposition that remind one of the old monk of Bethlehem and his Bible a thousand years before.

The result of the Blackfriars' synod was that after three days' deliberation Wycliffe's teaching was condemned, and at a subsequent meeting he himself was excommunicated. He returned to his quiet parsonage at Lutterworth--for his enemies dared not yet proceed to extremities--and there, with his pile of old Latin manuscripts and commentaries, he labored on at the great work of his life, till the whole Bible was translated into the "modir tongue," and England received for the first time in her history a complete version of the Scriptures in the language of the people.

And scarce was his task well finished when, like his great predecessor Bede, the brave old priest laid down his life. He himself had expected that a violent death would have finished his course. His enemies were many and powerful; the Primate, the King, and the Pope were against him--with the friars, whom he had so often and so fiercely defied; so that his destruction seemed but a mere question of time. But while his enemies were preparing to strike, the old man "was not, for God took him."

It was the close of the old year, the last Sunday of 1384, and his little flock at Lutterworth were kneeling in hushed reverence before the altar, when suddenly, at the time of the elevation of the sacrament, he fell to the ground in a violent fit of the palsy, and never spoke again until his death on the last day of the year.

In him England lost one of her best and greatest sons, a patriot sternly resenting all dishonor to his country, a reformer who ventured his life for the purity of the Church and the freedom of the Bible--an earnest, faithful "parson of a country town," standing out conspicuously among the clergy of the time.

"For Cristè's lore and his apostles twelve
He taughte--and first he folwede it himselve."

Here is a choice specimen from one of the monkish writers of the time describing his death: "On the feast of the passion of St. Thomas of Canterbury, John Wycliffe, the organ of the devil, the enemy of the Church, the idol of heretics, the image of hypocrites, the restorer of schism, the storehouse of lies, the sink of flattery, being struck by the horrible judgment of God, was seized with the palsy throughout his whole body, and that mouth which was to have spoken huge things against God and his saints, and holy Church, was miserably drawn aside, and afforded a frightful spectacle to beholders; his tongue was speechless and his head shook, showing painfully plainly that the curse which God had thundered forth against Cain was also inflicted on him."

Some time after his death a petition was presented to the Pope, which to his honor he rejected, praying him to order Wycliffe's body to be taken out of consecrated ground and buried in a dunghill. But forty years after, by a decree of the Council of Constance, the old reformer's bones were dug up and burned, and the ashes flung into the little river Swift which "runneth hard by his church at Lutterworth." And so, in the often-quoted words of old Fuller, "as the Swift bear them into the Severn, and the Severn into the narrow seas, and they again into the ocean, thus the ashes of Wycliffe is an emblem of his doctrine, which is now dispersed all over the world."

But it is with his Bible translation that we are specially concerned. As far as we can learn, the whole Bible was not translated by the reformer. About half the Old Testament is ascribed to Nicholas de Hereford, one of the Oxford leaders of the Lollards; the remainder, with the whole of the New Testament, being done by Wycliffe himself. About eight years after its completion the whole was revised by Richard Purvey, his curate and intimate friend, whose manuscript is still in the library of Trinity College, Dublin. Purvey's preface is a most interesting old document, and shows not only that he was deeply in earnest about his work, but that he thoroughly understood the intellectual and moral conditions necessary for its success.

"A simpel creature," he says, "hath translated the Scripture out of Latin into Englische. First, this simpel creature had much travayle with divers fellows and helpers to gather many old Bibles and other doctors and glosses to make one Latin Bible. Some deal true and then to study it anew the texte and any other help he might get, especially Lyra on the Old Testament, which helped him much with this work. The third time to counsel with olde grammarians and old divines of hard words and hard sentences how they might best be understood and translated, the fourth time to translate as clearly as he could to the sense, and to have many good fellows and cunnying at the correcting of the translacioun. A translator hath great nede to studie well the sense both before and after, and then also he hath nede to live a clene life and be full devout in preiers, and have not his wit occupied about worldli things that the Holy Spyrit author of all wisdom and cunnynge and truthe dresse him for his work and suffer him not to err." And he concludes with the prayer, "God grant to us all grace to ken well and to kepe well Holie Writ, and to suffer joiefulli some paine for it at the laste."

Like all the earlier English translations, Wycliffe's Bible was based on the Latin Vulgate of St. Jerome; and this is the great defect in his work, as compared with the versions that followed. He was not capable of consulting the original Greek and Hebrew even if he had access to them--in fact, there was probably no man in England at the time capable of doing so; and therefore, though he represents the Latin faithfully and well, he of course handed on its errors as faithfully as its perfections. But, such as it is, it is a fine specimen of fourteenth-century English. He translated not for scholars or for nobles, but for the plain people, and his style was such as suited those for whom he wrote--plain, vigorous, homely, and yet with all its homeliness full of a solemn grace and dignity, which made men feel that they were reading no ordinary book. He uses many striking expressions, such as (II Tim. ii. 4): "No man holding knighthood to God, wlappith himself with worldli nedes;" and many of the best-known phrases in our present Bible originated with him; _e.g._, "the beame and the mote," "the depe thingis of God," "strait is the gate and narewe is the waye," "no but a man schall be born againe," "the cuppe of blessing which we blessen," etc.

Here is a specimen from Wycliffe's Gospels:

In thilke dayes came Joon Baptist prechynge in the
desert of Jude, saying, Do ye penaunce: for the kyngdom
of heuens shall neigh. Forsothe this is he of whom
it is said by Ysaye the prophete, A voice of a cryinge in
desert, make ye redy the wayes of the Lord, make ye
rightful the pathes of hym. Forsothe that like Joon hadde
cloth of the beeris of cameylis and a girdil of skyn about
his leendis; sothely his mete weren locustis and hony of
the wode. Thanne Jerusalem wente out to hym, and al
Jude, and al the cuntre aboute Jordan, and thei weren
crystened of hym in in Jordon, knowlechynge there synnes.

It is somewhere recorded that at a meeting in Yorkshire recently a long passage of Wycliffe's Bible was read, which was quite intelligible throughout to those who heard.

It will be seen that this specimen (Matt. iii. 1-6) is not divided into verses. Verse division belongs to a much later period, and, though convenient for reference, it sometimes a good deal spoils the sense. The division into chapters appears in Wycliffe's as in our own Bibles. This chapter division had shortly before been made by a cardinal Hugo, for the purpose of a Latin concordance, and its convenience brought it quickly into use. But, like the verse division, it is often very badly done, the object aimed at seeming to be uniformity of length rather than any natural division of the subject. Sometimes a chapter breaks off in the middle of a narrative or an argument, and, especially in St. Paul's epistles, the incorrect division often becomes misleading. The removal as far as possible of these divisions is one of the advantages of the Revised Version to be noticed later on.

The book had a very wide circulation. While the Anglo-Saxon versions were confined for the most part to the few religious houses where they were written, Wycliffe's Bible, in spite of its disadvantage of being only manuscript, was circulated largely through the kingdom; and, though the cost a good deal restricted its possession to the wealthier classes, those who could not hope to possess it gained access to it too, as well through their own efforts as through the ministrations of Wycliffe's "pore priestes." A considerable sum was paid for even a few sheets of the manuscript, a load of hay was given for permission to read it for a certain period one hour a day,[70] and those who could not afford even such expenses adopted what means they could. It is touching to read such incidents as that of one Alice Collins, sent for to the little gatherings "to recite the Ten Commandments and parts of the epistles of SS. Paul and Peter, which she knew by heart." "Certes," says old John Foxe in his _Book of Martyrs_, "the zeal of those Christian days seems much superior to this of our day, and to see the travail of them may well shame our careless times."

But it was at a terrible risk such study was carried on. The appearance of Wycliffe's Bible aroused at once fierce opposition. A bill was brought into parliament to forbid the circulation of the Scriptures in English; but the sturdy John of Gaunt vigorously asserted the right of the people to have the Word of God in their own tongue; "for why," said he, "are we to be the dross of the nations?" However, the rulers of the Church grew more and more alarmed at the circulation of the book. At length Archbishop Arundel, a zealous but not very learned prelate, complained to the Pope of "that pestilent wretch, John Wycliffe, the son of the old Serpent, the forerunner of Antichrist, who had completed his iniquity by inventing a new translation of the Scriptures"; and, shortly after, the Convocation of Canterbury forbade such translations, under penalty of the major excommunication.

"God grant us," runs the prayer in the old Bible preface, "to ken and to kepe well Holie Writ, and to suffer joiefulli some paine for it at the laste." What a meaning that prayer must have gained when the readers of the book were burned with the copies round their necks, when men and women were executed for teaching their children the Lord's Prayer and Ten Commandments in English, when husbands were made to witness against their wives, and children forced to light the death-fires of their parents, and possessors of the banned Wycliffe Bible were hunted down as if they were wild beasts!

Thus did Wycliffe, in his effort for the spread of the Gospel of Peace, bring, like his Master fourteen centuries before, "not peace, but a sword." Every bold attempt to let in the light on long-standing darkness seems to result first in a fierce opposition from the evil creatures that delight in the darkness, and the weak creatures weakened by dwelling in it so long. It is not till the driving back of the evil and the strengthening of the weak, as the light gradually wins its way, that the true results can be seen. It is, to use a simile of a graceful modern writer,[71] "As when you raise with your staff an old flat stone, with the grass forming a little hedge, as it were, around it as it lies. Beneath it, what a revelation! Blades of grass flattened down, colorless, matted together, as if they had been bleached and ironed; hideous crawling things; black crickets with their long filaments sticking out on all sides; motionless, slug-like creatures; young larvæ, perhaps more horrible in their pulpy stillness than in the infernal wriggle of maturity. But no sooner is the stone turned and the wholesome light of day let in on this compressed and blinded community of creeping things than all of them that have legs rush blindly about, butting against each other and everything else in their way, and end in a general stampede to underground retreats from the region poisoned by sunshine. Next year you will find the grass growing fresh and green where the stone lay--the ground-bird builds her nest where the beetle had his hole--the dandelion and the buttercup are growing there, and the broad fans of insect-angels open and shut over their golden disks as the rhythmic waves of blissful consciousness pulsate through their glorified being.

"The stone is ancient error, the grass is human nature borne down and bleached of all its color by it, the shapes that are found beneath are the crafty beings that thrive in the darkness, and the weak organizations kept helpless by it. He who turns the stone is whosoever puts the staff of truth to the old lying incubus, whether he do it with a serious face or a laughing one. The next year stands for the coming time. Then shall the nature which had lain blanched and broken rise in its full stature and native lines in the sunshine. Then shall God's minstrels build their nests in the hearts of a new-born humanity. Then shall beauty--divinity taking outline and color--light upon the souls of men as the butterfly, image of the beatified spirit rising from the dust, soars from the shell that held a poor grub, which would never have found wings unless that stone had been lifted."

THE SWISS WIN THEIR INDEPENDENCE

BATTLE OF SEMPACH

A.D. 1386-1389

F. Grenfell Baker

For two generations after the victory of the Swiss over the
Austrians at Morgarten (1315), which was followed by the
renewal of the Swiss Confederation of 1291, the leagued
cantons were favored with growth and internal development.
To the original cantons--Uri, Schwyz, and Unterwalden--were
added (1332-1353) Lucerne, Zurich, Glarus, Zug, and Bern.
The Confederation acknowledged no superior but the Emperor
of Germany.

In 1375 there was an irruption into Switzerland of a horde
of irregular soldiers under Enguerrand de Courcy, son-in-law
of Edward III of England. The mother of De Courcy was a
daughter of Leopold I, Duke of Austria, and through her De
Courcy claimed several Swiss towns. As the present Austrian
Duke, Leopold II, who held nominal suzerainty over
Switzerland, refused to give them up, De Courcy invaded
Swiss territory with a large force and a fury which at first
threw the country into panic. But at last the Swiss
recovered their old spirit of bravery, and in many severe
encounters they either killed or chased out of the country
the whole ruthless host of invaders.

This war is known in Swiss chronicles as the _Guglerkrieg_,
either from the pointed spikes on the helmets of the Swiss
soldiers or from the cowls which many of them wore. It is
also called the "English War," although De Courcy's men were
nearly all from the Continent and Wales.

The Swiss soon had need of their old military prowess, which
this defence of their country against foreign invaders had
freshly put to the proof. By the victory of Sempach, July 9,
1386, their independence was practically won, and by later
acts of valor and statesmanship they made it secure for many
years.

Austria's conduct soon began once more to disturb the Swiss, and to threaten a renewal of hostilities. Her first act of importance was the conquest of the Tyrol, after which, under pretence of benefiting the pilgrims to Einsiedeln,[72] but in reality to separate Glarus from Zurich, she built a bridge across the lake at Rapperschwyl. The possession of this bridge by Austria acted as a perpetual hinderance to Zurich's trade with the South, and was accordingly greatly resented by the city. Austria's position, as ruler in so many burghs that, from their situation and the nationality of their inhabitants, were essentially Swiss, also acted as a never-ending source of trouble. Her rule was both harsh and unjust, and, as a result, her local governors were extremely unpopular. In 1386 the anti-Austrian feeling in Switzerland had grown to such a pitch that popular outbreaks against her authority were, in many centres, of frequent occurrence, and war appeared inevitable.

From Lucerne came the final troubles that precipitated the country again into a conflict with Austria. Previous to the actual declaration of war, constant collisions in the neighborhood of Lucerne had for some time past taken place, with all the horrors and savagery of war. In 1385 a body of men from Lucerne attacked and demolished the castle town of Rothenburg, the residence of an Austrian bailie. Next, both Entlibuch and Sempach, at the instigation of Lucerne, revolted against her Austrian rulers, expelled the bailies, and entered into alliances with the city. Lucerne herself commenced extending her territories by the purchase of Wiggis, and--contrary to her treaty stipulations--admitted a number of Austrian subjects into the privileges of citizenship. Austria retaliated by attacking Richensee, a small Lucerne town containing a garrison of some two hundred soldiers. This she carried by assault and destroyed, massacring the inhabitants of all ages and of both sexes.

Other reprisals on both sides followed in quick succession, in which immense numbers of victims perished. Soon both the Duke, Leopold II, and the Confederates were fully prepared, and the former took the field with a large army. After menacing Zurich, the Duke, accompanied by many nobles from Germany, France, and North Italy, headed some six thousand picked men, and marched upon Lucerne. On his way he burned Willisau and several smaller towns, where his troops committed every form of excess. On July 9th a portion of his forces appeared before the walls of Sempach, while another division menaced Zurich. At Sempach the Confederates mustered to the help of Lucerne, but were only able to bring about sixteen hundred men, taken chiefly from the Forest States. In spite of their disparity in numbers, the Confederates determined to risk an encounter.

The decisive and brilliant battle of Sempach, the second of the long roll of victories that mark the prowess of the Swiss, is thus described by an old writer: "The Swiss order of battle was angular, one soldier followed by two, these by four, and so on. The Swiss were all on foot, badly armed, having only their long swords and their halberds, and boards on their left arms with which to parry the blows of their adversaries, and they could at first make no impression on the close ranks of the Austrians, all bristling with spears. But Anthony zer Pot, of Uri, cried to his men to strike with their halberds on the shafts of the spears, which he knew were made hollow to render them lighter, and, at the same time, Arnold von Winkelried, a knight from Unterwalden, devoting himself for his country, cried out: 'I'll open a way for you, Confederates!' and, seizing as many spears as he could grasp in his arms, dragged them down with his whole weight and strength upon his own bosom, and thus made an opening for his countrymen to penetrate the Austrian ranks.

"This act of heroism decided the victory. The Swiss rushed into the gap made by Winkelried, and, having now come to close quarters with their enemies, their bodily strength and the lightness of their equipment gave them a great advantage over the heavily armed Austrians, who were already fainting under the heat of a July sun. The very closeness of the array of the Austrian men-at-arms rendered them incapable either of advancing or falling back, and, the grooms who held their horses having taken flight, panic seized them, they broke their ranks, and were hewed down by the Swiss halberds in frightful numbers. Duke Leopold was urged by those around him to save his life, but he scorned the advice, and, seeing the banner of Austria in danger, rushed to save it, and was killed in the attempt. The rout then became general, but the Swiss had the humanity, or the policy, not to pursue their enemies, of whom otherwise not one, perhaps, would have escaped. The loss of the Austrians amounted to two thousand men, including six hundred and seventy-six noblemen, three hundred and fifty of whom wore coroneted helmets. Most of them were buried at Koenigsfelden, with their leader Leopold. The Swiss lost two hundred men in this memorable battle, the second in which they had defeated a duke of Austria at the head of his chivalry."

After Sempach the men of Glarus set about making themselves a free people. One of their first acts was the capture of Wesen and the expulsion of its Austrian soldiers. This was followed by a truce, which lasted till 1388, when Leopold's sons recommenced the war with fresh fury. Wesen was recaptured by the admission of a number of soldiers in disguise, who opened the gates to their comrades without and massacred all the chief Swiss leaders. Some months later the men of Glarus inflicted a severe defeat on the Austrians at the little town of Naefels, within their state. In this important combat three hundred and fifty men of Glarus, together with fifty from Schwyz, posted themselves on the heights above the town, and, as the Austrians advanced, suddenly hurled down masses of stones that soon caused a panic. Then, following the successful tactics employed at Morgarten, the Swiss rushed down on the disordered mass--said to consist of fifteen thousand soldiers, but probably about half that number--and dealt death on every side. A precipitate flight of the invaders followed, but they were met near Wesen by a fresh body of seven hundred Glarus peasants, who completed the victory.

Though Bern took no part in the battle of Sempach, after that victory she entered actively into the war, and overran the Austrian dependencies in Freiburg and Valengrin. She drove the Duke's followers out of Rapperschwyl, annexed Nidau and Bueren, and conquered the upper Simmenthal.

At length, both sides being weary of war and carnage, a peace was signed for seven years in 1389, with the condition that Bern should restore Nidau and Bueren. This peace was in 1394 further prolonged for twenty years. These treaties brought great benefits to Switzerland in many ways. Glarus and Zug obtained their formal freedom from Austrian rule in payment of a moderate sum of money; Schwyz received the town and abbey of Einsiedeln (1397); Lucerne purchased Sempach and Entlibuch from the Duke, as also other towns; but chief of all, the political power of the Hapsburgs came to an end in Switzerland.

An important feature of this period was the lessened influence of the Emperor of Germany in Swiss affairs, and the gradual withdrawal of the Swiss from the position they so long occupied as subject-vassals of the empire. This was especially seen toward the close of the fourteenth century, when the Emperor, being pressed for money, sold his rights over several important Swiss districts to their inhabitants, and thus forfeited all authority over them.

But chief of all the memorable events of this time was the close it brought to the long and bloody struggle between Austria and Switzerland. At length the heroism and persevering patriotism of the Swiss effected the liberation of their country from Austrian rule, and henceforth the dukes ceased to attempt to enforce their claims, and tacitly acknowledged their defeat. The Swiss states from this period, moreover, began to be known, not as an unimportant portion of the German empire, but as a separate country, Die Schweiz, from the prominent part taken by Schwyz in initiating the freedom of the land.

UNION OF DENMARK, SWEDEN, AND NORWAY

A.D. 1397

PAUL C. SINDING

Canute the Great, King of England and Denmark, by successful
wars added almost the whole of Norway to his dominions. At
his death in 1035 his kingdoms were divided, and fell into
anarchy and discord for two centuries, until the tyrant
Black Geert, who had driven out Christopher II, and been for
fourteen years the virtual sovereign of Denmark, was
assassinated by the Danish patriot Niels Ebbeson.

Christopher's third son, Waldemar, surnamed Atterdag,
because he used to say when a misfortune happened,
"To-morrow it is again day," was recalled from Bavaria and
crowned king as Waldemar IV. He commenced at once with vigor
and marked success the improvement of the internal
conditions of the country, and strove to encompass his chief
ambition, the reunion of the ancient Danish possessions.

By marrying his daughter Margaret to Hakon VI, King of
Norway and son of Magnus Smek, King of Sweden, Waldemar laid
a basis for a junction of the three great Scandinavian
kingdoms. The union was realized under the administration of
his illustrious and sagacious daughter, Margaret, known as
the "Semiramis of the North."

Waldemar Atterdag left no direct male issue. But his two grandsons, Albert the Younger, of Mecklenburg, a son of Ingeborg, Waldemar's eldest daughter, and of Henry of Mecklenburg; and Olaf, a son of Margaret, his younger daughter, and of Hakon VI of Norway, were now claiming the hereditary succession to the throne. One party declared for Olaf, but, as he was the son of the younger daughter, his claim was very doubtful. But because the house of Mecklenburg had acted with hostility toward Denmark, and Olaf had expectation of Norway and claims to the crown of Sweden, as a grandson of Magnus Smek, Denmark was, by his election, in hopes of one day seeing the three crowns united on the same head. It was therefore not long before this important affair was determined. The preference was given Olaf, who, although only six years of age, was, under the name of Olaf V, elected king of Denmark, under the guardianship of Margaret his mother; and after the death of his father Hakon VI, he became also king of Norway, the two kingdoms thus being united. This union, till the expiration of four hundred and thirty-four years, was not dissolved. When Olaf V, seven years after, died in Falsterbo, both kingdoms elected Margaret their queen, though custom had not yet authorized the election of a female.

During the reign of this great Princess, who deservedly has been called the "Semiramis of the North," Denmark and Norway exercised in Europe an influence the effects of which were long felt throughout the Scandinavian countries with their vast extent and rival races. She united wisdom and policy with courage and determination, had strength of mind to preserve her rectitude without deviation, and her efforts were crowned by divine Providence with success. She is justly considered one of the most illustrious female rulers in history. Her renown even reached the Byzantine emperor Emanuel Palæologus, who called her _Regina sine exemplo maxima_. But under her successors--destitute of her high sense of duty, great ability, and consistent virtue--her triumphs proved a snare instead of a blessing. The great union she created dissolved in a short time, and its downfall was as sudden as its elevation had been extraordinary. She was born in 1353. Her father was, as we have seen, Waldemar Atterdag, her mother Queen Hedevig, and she became queen of Denmark and Norway in 1387. She was no sooner elected queen of Denmark, and homaged on the hill of Sliparehog, near Lund, in Ringsted, Odensee, and Wiborg, than she sailed to Norway to receive their homage. But a remarkable occurrence is mentioned by historians as occurring about this time. A report prevailed that King Olaf, the Queen's son, was not dead; it was propagated by the nobility, and very likely set on foot by them, in order to punish Margaret for her liberality to the clergy. An impostor claimed the crown of Denmark and Norway, and gained credit every day by making discoveries which could only be known to Olaf and his mother. Margaret, however, proved him to be a son of Olaf's nurse. Olaf had a large wart between his shoulders--a mark which did not appear on the impostor. The false Olaf was seized, broken on the wheel, and publicly burned at a place between Falsterbo and Skanor, in Sweden, and Margaret continued uninterruptedly her regency.

But the Queen, not wishing to contract a new marriage, and comprehending the importance of having a successor elected to the throne, proposed her nephew, Eric, Duke of Pomerania. This proposal the clergy and nobility approved, and they elected him to be king of Denmark and Norway after Margaret's death. Meanwhile Albert, King of Sweden, having, on account of his preference given to German favorites, incurred the hatred of his people, the Swedes requested Margaret to assist them against him, which she promised to do if they in return would make her queen of Sweden. Moreover, Albert had highly offended the Danish Queen; had, though hardly able to govern his own kingdom, assumed the title "king of Denmark," and laid claim to Norway, too; and when she blamed him for it he had answered her disdainfully. In a letter he had used foul and abusive language, calling her "a king without breeches," and the "abbot's concubine" (_abbedfrillen_), on account of her particular attachment to a certain abbot of Soro, who was her spiritual director. It is, however, true, that her intimacy with this monk gave room for some suspicion that her privacies with him were not all employed about the care of her soul. Afterward, to ridicule her yet more, King Albert sent her a hone to sharpen her needles, and swore not to put on his nightcap until she had yielded to him. But under perilous circumstances Margaret was never at a loss how to act. She acted here with the utmost prudence, trying first to gain the favor of the peers of the state, and solemnly promising to rule according to the Swedish laws. War now broke out between Albert and Margaret, whose army was commanded by Jvar Lykke. The encounter of the two armies--about twelve thousand men on each side--took place at Falkoping, September 21, 1388. A furious battle was fought, in which the victory for a long while hung in suspense. But Margaret's good fortune prevailed; Albert was routed and his army cut to pieces, and Margaret was now mistress of Sweden.

While this was passing, the Queen tarried in Wordingborg Sjelland, ardently desiring to learn the result. But no sooner did she hear that the victory was gained, and the Swedish King and his son Eric taken prisoners, than she hastened to Bahus, in Sweden, where the King and his son were brought before her. Lost in joy and amazement at having her enemy in her power, the Queen now retorted upon King Albert with revilings, and she made him wear a large nightcap of paper--a retaliation proportioned to his offensive words. He and his son were thereupon brought to Lindholm, a castle in Skane, where they were kept prisoners for seven years. When they entered the castle, a dark, square room was assigned them, and when the King said, "I hope that this torture against a crowned head will only last a few days," the jailer replied: "I grieve to say that the Queen's orders are to the contrary; anger not the Queen by any bravado, else you will be placed in the irons, and if these fail we can have recourse to sharper means." To the excessive self-love, intemperance, conceitedness, and want of foresight which had characterized all his actions, the unhappy Albert had to ascribe his present situation.

The year following, the Queen stormed the important city of Calmar, yet siding with the imprisoned King. She made several wise alliances with Richard II of England, and other potentates, and concluded a truce for two years with the princes of Mecklenburg, and the cities of Rostock and Wismar, which had begun to raise fresh levies in favor of the unfortunate Albert. This period expired, she laid siege to Stockholm and other fortified places, of which John, Duke of Mecklenburg, and other friends of the imprisoned King had become masters. But the cause of Albert was little forwarded, and Margaret gained ground every day. She compelled the capital to surrender to her and do homage to her as its sovereign; whereafter a peremptory peace was concluded on Good Friday, which restored tranquillity to the three kingdoms. The imprisoned King and his son were delivered up to the Hanseatic towns, and they obtained their liberty for sixty thousand ounces of silver, upon condition that they should resign all claims to Sweden if the amount were not paid within three years. As soon as the King and his son were delivered to the deputies, they solemnly swore to a strict observance of this article, the Hanse towns engaging themselves to guarantee the treaty. The money, however, not being paid by the stipulated time, Margaret became undisputed sovereign of Sweden, the third Scandinavian kingdom.

About this time the "Victuals Brethren," so called because they brought victuals from the Hanse towns to Stockholm while besieged, began to imperil Denmark, plundering the Danish and Norwegian coasts, and destroying all commercial business along the Baltic. But Margaret ordered the harbors of the maritime towns to be blockaded, thus putting a quick stop to their cruelties and piracies. The Queen's principal care was now to visit the different provinces, to administer justice and redress grievances of every kind. Among other salutary regulations, the affairs of commerce were not forgotten. It was, for instance, decreed that all manner of assistance should be given to foreign merchants and sailors, particularly in case of misfortune and shipwreck, without expectation of reward; and that all pirates should be treated with the greatest rigor.

Eric of Pomerania was, as we have said, elected to be king of Denmark and Norway after Margaret's death. But wishing to have him also elected her successor to the Swedish throne, Margaret brought him to Sweden, and introduced him to the deputies, one by one, whom she requested to confirm his election to the succession. The majesty of the Queen's person, the strength of her arguments, and the sweetness of her eloquence gained over the deputies, who, on July 22, 1396, elected him at Morastone by Upsala, to succeed her also in Sweden. But Margaret, soon discovering his inability and impetuousness, took pains to remedy these defects, as much as possible, by procuring for him as a wife the intelligent and virtuous princess Philippa, a daughter of Henry V of England, and shortly after had got Catharine, her niece and Eric's sister, married to Prince John, a son of the German emperor Ruprecht; John being promised the Scandinavian crowns if Eric of Pomerania should die childless. Thus having strengthened and consolidated her power by influential connections and relationships, the Queen, upon whose head the three northern crowns were actually united, now proceeded to realize the great plan she had long cherished--to get a fundamental law established for a perpetual union of the three large Scandinavian kingdoms. The realization of this purpose immortalized her, securing for her the admiration of the world, whose most eminent historians do not hesitate to surname her the "Great," and to compare her with the loftiest Greek and Roman heroes and statesmen.

On June 17, 1397, Margaret summoned to an assembly at Calmar, in the province of Smaland, Sweden, the clergy and the nobility of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, and established, by their aid and consent, a fundamental law. This was the law so celebrated in the North under the name of the "Union of Calmar," and which afterward gave birth to wars between Sweden and Denmark that lasted a whole century. It consisted of three articles. The first provided that the three kingdoms should thenceforward have but one and the same king, who was to be chosen successively by each of the kingdoms. The second article imposed upon the sovereign the obligation of dividing his time equally between the three kingdoms. The third, and most important, decreed that each kingdom should retain its own laws, customs, senate, and privileges of every kind; that the highest officers should be natives; that any alliance concluded with foreign potentates should be obligatory upon all three kingdoms when approved by the council of one kingdom; and that, after the death of the King, his eldest son, or, if the King died childless, then another wise, intelligent, and able prince, should be chosen common monarch; and if anyone, because of high treason, was banished from one kingdom, then he should be banished from them all. A month after, on the Queen's birthday, July 13th, a legitimate charter was drawn up, to which the Queen subscribed and put her seal; on which occasion Eric of Pomerania was anointed and crowned by the archbishops of Upsala and Lund as king of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden. The _Te Deum_ was sung in the churches of Calmar, the assembly crying out: "_Hæcce unio esto perpetua! Longe, longe, longe, vivat Margarethe, regina Daniæ, Norvegiæ et Sveciæ!_"

This strict union of the three large states became a potent bulwark for their security, and made them, in more than one century, the arbiter of the European system; the three nations of the northern peninsula presenting a compact and united front, that could bid defiance to any foreign aggression.

Although Eric of Pomerania was elected king, and in 1407 passed his minority, Margaret continued governing until the day of her death. "You have done all well," wrote the people to her, "and we value your services so highly that we would gladly grant you everything." The union of the three Scandinavian kingdoms having been established in Calmar, all her efforts were now aimed at regaining the duchy of Schleswig, which circumstances had compelled her to resign to Gerhard IV, Count of Holstein. For such a reunion with Schleswig a favorable opportunity appeared, when Gerhard was killed in an expedition against the Ditmarshers, leaving behind three sons in minority. Elizabeth, Gerhard's widow, fled to Margaret for succor against her violent brother-in-law, Bishop Henry of Osnabrueck. Margaret, fond of fishing in foul water, was very willing to help her, but availed herself of the opportunity to annex successively different parts of Schleswig.

The dethroned Swedish King, Albert, never able to forget his anger toward Margaret or her severity against him, and continually cherishing a hope of reascending the Swedish throne, and considering the Union of Calmar a breach of peace, contrived to make the Swedish people displeased with her, and thought it a suitable time to revolt from her dominion. He established a strong camp before Visby, the capital of the island of Gulland, having six thousand foot and, at some distance, nine thousand horse. Determined to engage before their junction could take place, the Queen's commander-in-chief, Abraham Broder, immediately advanced until in sight of the enemy, and then endeavored to gain possession of Visby and the ground near by. In this he was so far successful that Albert and his army had to leave the camp and conclude a truce. But nevertheless he did not till after a lapse of seven years give up his hope of remounting the throne of Sweden, making a final peace with Margaret, and henceforward living in Gadebush, Mecklenburg, where in 1412 he closed his inglorious life.

Soon after, October 27th, Queen Margaret died on board a ship in the harbor of Flensburg, at the age of fifty-nine, after an active and notable reign of thirty-seven years. Her funeral was attended with the greatest solemnity, and her corpse was brought to the Cathedral of Roeskilde, where Eric of Pomerania, her successor, in 1423, caused her likeness to be carved in alabaster. Her acts show her character. She displayed judiciousness united with circumspection; wisdom in devising plans, and perseverance in executing them; skill in gaining the confidence of the clergy and peasantry, and thereby counterbalancing the imperious nobility. On the whole she applied herself to the civilization of her three kingdoms, and to their improvement by excellent laws, the great aim of which was to undermine the nobility. She pursued the plan of her great father to recall all rights to the crown lands, which during the reign of her weak and inefficient predecessors had been granted to the nobility. The prosecution of this plan for the perfect subversion of the feudal aristocracy was unfortunately interrupted by her death; her imprudent and weak successor having no power to restrain the turbulent spirit of a factious nobility.

DEPOSITION OF RICHARD II

HENRY IV BEGINS THE LINE OF LANCASTER

A.D. 1399

JOHN LINGARD

Richard II, son of Edward the Black Prince, succeeded his
grandfather, Edward III, on the throne of England in 1377,
when Richard was but ten years old. During his minority the
government was intrusted to a council of twelve, but for
some years it was mainly controlled by Richard's uncles,
John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, and Thomas of Woodstock,
Duke of Gloucester. War with France, then in progress,
entailed great expenditures, which were increased by court
extravagance, and at length burdensome taxes led to popular
uprisings. These became most serious in the great revolt of
the peasants led by Wat Tyler, in 1381. Richard appeared
among the insurgents and granted them concessions.

From this time the King became more active in his
government, and in 1386 John of Gaunt withdrew to the
Continent. About the same time the Duke of Gloucester headed
a coalition of the baronial party in opposition to the
sovereign; but in 1389 Richard suddenly declared himself of
age and gave a check to their designs. For eight years he
ruled with moderation as a constitutional monarch.

But in 1396 Richard married Isabella, daughter of Charles VI
of France, and henceforth seems to have adopted French
ideas, and to have made pretensions in the direction of
absolutism. He proceeded to arbitrary prosecutions which led
to the violent death of several leading nobles. Richard also
quarrelled with Henry, son of John of Gaunt, whom as Duke of
Lancaster he succeeded in 1399. The year before, Richard had
banished Henry for ten years--fearing him as a possible
rival. The history of the remaining months of Richard's
reign is crowded with the events which rapidly led to the
ending of the direct line of the Plantagenets and the
beginning of the line of Lancaster.

In Shakespeare's _Richard II_--the first of his historical
plays--the poet, following Holinshed's chronicle, presents
not only a skilful dramatic construction of the recorded
incidents of the reign, but also a finely discriminated
portrait of Richard's much debated character as man and
monarch.

Richard now saw himself triumphant over all his opponents. Even his uncles, through affection or fear, seconded all his measures. He had attained what seems for some time to have been the great object of his policy. He had placed himself above the control of the law. By the grant of a subsidy for life he was relieved from the necessity of meeting his parliament; with the aid of his committee, the members of which proved the obsequious ministers of his will, he could issue what new ordinances he pleased; and a former declaration by the two houses, that he was as free as any of his predecessors, was conveniently interpreted to release him from the obligations of those statutes which he deemed hostile to the royal prerogative. But he had forfeited all that popularity which he had earned during the last ten years; and the security in which he indulged hurried him on to other acts of despotism, which inevitably led to his ruin. He raised money by forced loans; he compelled the judges to expound the law according to his own prejudices or caprice; he required the former adherents of Gloucester to purchase and repurchase charters of pardon; and, that he might obtain a more plentiful harvest of fines and amercements, put at once seventeen counties out of the protection of the law, under the pretence that they had favored his enemies.