“One of the first who fell in the Austrian army was Frederick, the bastard of Brandis, a bold and strong man, who alone inspired as much fear as twenty others; and near him was killed Frietzhend, called the Long, who boasted that he alone would resist the Confederates. The servants of the nobles, who had been left with the baggage, seeing the fortune of the day, saved themselves upon their masters’ horses. The banner of Austria dropped from the hands of Henri d’Escheloh. Ulrich d’Ortenburg fell upon the flag of the Tyrol. Ulrich d’Aarburg rushed to preserve the former. He held it aloft, and endeavoured to restore the day, but without success. He fell mortally wounded; and collected his remaining strength to exclaim, ‘Save it, Austria, save it!’ The Duke broke through the press, and received the banner from his dying hand. It soon re–appeared above the combatants, steeped in blood, and borne by Leopold himself. A crowd of gentlemen collected for his defence, and fell around him. At length he exclaimed, ‘Since so many lords are dead by my side, I also, like them, will die with honour.’ He sprang forth from among his friends, rushed into the thickest of the enemy, and there met his doom: he fell, and while weighed down by his ponderous armour and struggling in vain to raise himself, he was approached by a common man from Schwitz, who levelled a blow at him. Leopold called out, ‘I am the Duke of Austria;’ but the man either heard him not, believed him not, or thought that in a day of battle the highest rank conferred no privilege: the Duke received a mortal wound. Martin Malterer, the banneret of Friburg in Brisgau, saw the disaster: he stood appalled: the banner dropped from his hand: he threw himself upon the corpse of his slaughtered sovereign to preserve it from insult, and there met his own fate. “The Austrian infantry now, looking round in vain for their Duke, betook themselves to flight. The nobles called loudly for their horses; but the dust they saw rising at a distance marked the road by which their faithless servants had long since led them away. Oppressed by their heavy armour, by heat, thirst, and fatigue, they still resolved to avenge their sovereign; and if they could not preserve their lives, at least not to fall easy victims to the resistless fury of their triumphant foes.