instance of
their cruelty is recorded of a bailie named Landenburg, who publicly
reproved a peasant for living in a house above his station. On another
occasion, having fined an old and much respected laborer, named Henry of
Melchi, a yoke of oxen for an imaginary offence, the Governor's
messenger jeeringly told the old man, who was lamenting that if he lost
his cattle he could no longer earn his bread, that if he wanted to use a
plough he had better draw it himself, being only a vile peasant. To this
insult Henry's son Arnold responded by attacking the messenger and
breaking his fingers, and then, fearing lest his act should bring down
some serious punishment, fled to the mountains, and left his aged father
to Landenburg's vengeance. The bailie confiscated his little property,
imposed a heavy fine, and finally burned out both his eyes.

The hot irons used in this barbarous punishment, the Swiss are fond of
saying, went deeper than the tyrant intended, and penetrated to the
hearts and aroused the sympathies of their ancestors to perform such
acts of heroism that tyranny fled in fear from the land. The conduct of
Arnold, however, can hardly at this period of his life warrant the
eulogies bestowed upon his memory, though he subsequently figures as one
of the "Men of Ruetli."

Landenburg lived in a castle near Sarnen, in Unterwalden, where his
imperious temper, his exactions, his cruelties, and his debaucheries
aroused a universal feeling of hatred among the peasants, that
culminated in his expulsion and the destruction of his stronghold. The
latter is popularly believed to have occurred on January 1, 1308. As the
bailie left his castle to attend mass, some forty determined peasants,
who had already bound themselves by oath to free their country at a
solemn meeting on the steep promontory over the Lake of Lucerne known as
the Ruetli, appeared before him carrying sheep, fowls, and other
customary presents, and thus gained admission to the castle. No sooner
were they past the gates than, drawing the weapons they had till then
concealed beneath their clothes, they disarmed the guard and took
possession of the fortress. Other conspirators were admitted, and the
people at once rose in revolt. Landenburg, hearing while still at church
of what had occurred, managed to effect his escape, and fled to Lucerne.
Of the other bailies, Gessler and Wolfenschiess are believed to have
excited even more hatred than their colleague Landenb