4. In the Faroe Isles, the above Harold is said to have had a swimming-match with a certain Geyti, who not only beat him, but gave him a ducking. Harold condemned him to shoot a hazel-nut off his brother’s head, under the usual penalty, and with the usual result.
5. The same story is told of one Puncher, (suggestive name,) with this difference, that the object aimed at was a coin.
6. In Finland, it is a son who shoots an apple off his father’s head; for which feat some robbers, who had captured his sire, gave him up to the son.
7. In a Persian poem of the twelfth century, a King, in sport, shoots an arrow at an apple on the head of his favorite page, who, though not hurt, died of the fright.
8. The story, with a difference, is told of Egil, in the Saga of Thidrik, of no particular date.
9. It is familiar to us, in the English ballad of William of Cloudesley, chronological date of event uncertain.
10. Enter William Tell, in the first decade of the fourteenth century. We need not tell his well-known tale again. It is only necessary to remark, by way of comment, that the Tell and Gesler legend was not set up till many years afterwards, and that in no contemporary record is any mention made of either Tell, Gesler, or the apple incident. No Vogt named Gesler ever exercised authority for the Emperor in Switzerland; no family bearing the name of Tell can be traced in any part of that country.
11, and lastly. The hero’s name was not Tell at all, but M’Leod, and he came from Braemar. Mr. Baring-Gould has quite overlooked him. Therefore is the new claimant’s story here subjoined in order to make the roll of legends complete. It is taken from The Braemar Highlands; their Tales, Traditions and History, by Elizabeth Taylor. The King referred to is Malcolm Canmore.
“A young man named M’Leod had been hunting one day in the royal forest. A favorite hound of the King’s having attacked M’Leod, was killed by him. The King soon heard of the slaughter of his favorite, and was exceedingly angry—so much so that M’Leod was condemned to death. The gibbet was erected on Craig Choinnich, i.e., Kennoth’s Craig. As there was less of justice than revenge in the sentence, little time was permitted ere it was carried into execution. The prisoner was led out by the north gate of the castle. The King, in great state, surrounded by a crowd of his nobles, followed in procession. Sorrowing crowds of the people came after, in wondering amazement. As they moved slowly on, an incident occurred which arrested universal attention. A woman with a child in her arms came rushing through the crowd, and throwing herself before the King, pleaded with him to spare her husband’s life, though it should be at the expense of all they possessed. Her impassioned entreaties were met with silence. Malcolm was not to be moved from his purpose of death. Seeing that her efforts to move the King were useless, she made her way to her husband, and throwing her arms around him declared that she would not leave him—she would go and die with him. Malcolm was somewhat moved by the touching scene. Allen Durward, noticing the favorable moment, ventured to put in the suggestion that it was a pity to hang such a splendid archer. ‘A splendid archer, is he?’ replied the King; ‘then he shall have his skill tried.’ So he ordered that M’Leod’s wife and child should be placed on the opposite side of the river; something to serve as a mark was to be placed on the child’s head. If M’Leod succeeded in hitting the mark without injuring his wife or child his life would be spared, otherwise the sentence was to be carried into execution. Accordingly (so the legend goes) the young wife and child were put across the river, and placed on Tomghainmheine; according to some, a little farther down the river, near where a boat-house once stood. The width of the Dee was to be the distance separating M’Leod from his mark. He asked for a bow and two arrows, and having examined each with the greatest care, he took his position. The eventful moment came, the people gathered round him, and stood in profound silence. On the opposite side of the river his wife stood, the central figure of a crowd of eager bystanders, tears glistening on her cheeks as she gazed alternately at her husband and child in dumb emotion. M’Leod took aim; but his body shook like an aspen-leaf in the evening breeze. This was a trial for him far harder than death. Again he placed himself in position; but he trembled to such a degree that he could not shoot, and turning to the King, who stood near, he said in a voice scarcely articulate in its suppressed agony, ‘This is hard!’ But the King relented not; so the third time he fell into the attitude, and as he did so, almost roared, ‘This is hard!’ Then as if all his nervousness had escaped through the cry, he let the arrow fly—it struck the mark! The mother seized her child, and in a transport of joy seemed to devour it with kisses; while the pent-up emotion of the crowd found vent through a loud cry of wonder and triumph, which repeated itself again and again as the echoes rolled slowly away among the neighboring hills. The King now approached M’Leod, and after confirming his pardon, inquired why he, so sure of hand and keen of sight, had asked two arrows? ‘Because,’ replied M’Leod, ‘had I missed the mark, or hurt my wife and child, I was determined not to miss you.’ The king grew pale, and turned away as if undecided what to do. His better nature prevailed; so he again approached M’Leod, and with kindly voice and manner told him that he would receive him into his body-guard, and he would be well provided for. ‘Never!’ answered the undaunted Celt. ‘After the painful proof to which you have just put my heart. I could never love you enough to serve you faithfully. The King in amazement cried out, ‘Thou art a Hardy! and as Hardy thou art, so Hardy thou shalt be.’” From that time M’Leod went under the appellation of Hardy, while his descendants were termed the M’Hardy’s—Mac being the Gaelic word for son. The date of the above is the eleventh century, when the legend burst forth in several parts of the world. Here we have it in Scotland. Like many other legends it probably came originally from India.