Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1853-01-06
Altsfell0neolls.
The Legend of Sohwarrbaoh.

The legend annexed, from Dumas Glacier
Land, is that upon which Wernor founded his
terrible drama, called "Tho Twentv.fourth Of
February" drama," says Dumas, "to be
read at midnight, while the storm RACES and The
lamp flckers, till the marrow seems to freeze in
your bones from terror; drama which Werner
flung to the word-not for glory-not for the
applause of theatre, but to free his soul from
the burden of incessant unconquerabe gloom,
that gnawed it like the Plomethean vnlture."
An old peasont and his son dwelt once upon
a rude Alpine peak ; the youg man felt the ne
cessity of companion, and, despite of his faith
er. welded Trude, the daughter of neighbor-
ing pastor, who, when dying, left nothing behind
him except long sermons and old books. The
want of dover made Trude an unwecomed
daughter-in law, and frequent alterations took
place between her and the old gentleman, which
we're resented by tho son, whose feelings day by
day, became embittered against his fa'her, in
consequence of his treatment of the wife.
One evening-it was the twenty fourth Of
February-you Kuntz returned home in high
spirits from festival given at Loueche Singing
the chorus of jovial cong, he entered the house
and found his father scolding Trude, who wept
bitterly. In an instant anger filled his heart
but, out Of respect to the old man he kept ST.
lence. The perspiraton stood on his brow he
bit his lips and clinched bis hands still no word
escaped from him.
This seemed to embolden his father, and he
became more bitter and insulting; till at last
the son looked at him, and, with low, demon
ical laugh, took down scyhe from the WALL.
" The grass will soon be ripe," he said 81 mus
sharpen this instrument )" and he began shar
pening it with knife, while he sang one of those
pretty Alpine dittes, as fresh and simple as the
wild flowers Of the glacier;
I'm chapeau sur la letete,
De petites feurs dessus;
Une chemis dc berger
Avec de jolis rubans."
r The old man still ragged and stormed: the sor
continued singing. At length old Kuntz, exas
perated to the highest pitch, flung one ol thost
epihets to his daughetern-aw that HUSBAND
can never pardon. The young man sprang up
pale, trembling and furious; the accursed knife
was in his hand and, no doubt, lmpelled by The
demon, he rushed upon his father. The old maj
fell, cursed the parrclde, and expired!
From that moment misfortune took up it
abode beneath the roof. Kuntz and Trude con
l. tinued to love each other, but with that sombre
gloomy love that bore the memory OF blood. 81!
months after, son was born to them. The las
t words of the murdered man had been to curs
d the child in the womb Of its mother and, lk
u Cain, it bore the brand-a bloody scythe upon h
;. left arm.
Y Some time after, their cottage was burne
down; then disease carried off their herds; and
finally, a slide Of snow from the summit of tn
e Rnderhorn covered the ground for two leagues
e burying the whole farm aud fe!,ile pastures
Kuntz beneath it.
], Nothing was left for him now but to turn inr
= keeper. Five years after the birth of their sol
IS daughter was born, and they fondly hope
1t that Gods vengeance had ceased; for the chill
't was beautiful, and bore no brand of lnaledcto
,s OH its frame.
One evening-it was the twenty-fourth
g February-when The girl was two years old ar
:; the boy seven, the two children were playing @
't the threshold with the knife that had killed the
l grandfather. The mother came and took it
D. cut the throat Of fowl for dinner; the be
IN watched her then, with that love of blood tn
et seems instructive to some natures, said to his Ii
n tie sister, Come, let us play +; shall be coo
n, and thou be chicken" Upon which, taking ii
'g accursed knfe he drew her behind the doc
cd five minutes after, the mother heard screa,
gs the little girl lay stepped in blood, her throat
across. The Kuntz cursed hls son, as his faith
had cursed him.
The boy fled and no one knew whittier
went.
lie From that day every thing went wrong. TT
ng fish died in the lake, the corn was bighted, Il
is snow covered the valley, and travellers could
a longer come to the inn. Kuniz was utterly
n. ined. One by one he sold off everything he W
'st worth, even to the cottage that sheltered hi
VS. but which he was allowed to keep possession
on condition of paying rent. Then time cat
i'll that he could no longer pay rent for the fe
at planks that kept the snow and rain from beat
ng on the head of the parricide
he One evening-it was the twenty-fourth