The Hungarians, menaced by such an imminent danger, concentrated all their forces to resist the onslaught. Always quick to resolve and as quick in their movements, they anticipated the attack, and the two hostile armies met in 907 in the environs of Presburg. The struggle on both sides was a bitter one. The zeal of the Germans, on the one hand, was excited by the prospect of ridding themselves and the whole Occident of the disagreeable neighborhood of these dangerous intruders, whilst with the Hungarians, on the other hand, it was a question of self-preservation, for in case of a defeat they had every thing at stake. The latter, therefore, fought with the utmost vehemence, not in regular battle array, after the German fashion, but with their storming divisions, furious attacks, feigned retreats, and renewed onslaughts, their arrows and javelins descending every time like a hail-storm, they broke through the serried ranks of the Germans and rode down every thing that was in their way. The sun rose and set three times over the heads of the fighting armies before the great battle was decided. The Germans were hopelessly defeated. Duke Luitpold lost his life fighting, and with him the Archbishop of Salzburg, as well as most of the bishops, abbots, and counts, laid down their lives during those three fatal days. It was but natural that, encouraged by this successful battle, the Hungarians should eagerly continue their marauding expeditions in every direction into Germany and even France. Dividing into small bands, just as the Turcomans used to do up to quite recent times in Persia, the Hungarians infested the whole of Saxony and Thuringia, and penetrated as far as Bremen. They crossed the Rhine, flooded a part of France, and quick as were their inroads, no less promptly did they return, always laden with rich booty and driving before them a long file of slaves of both sexes. The entire Occident was continually harassed by them, and this gave rise to those dire misrepresentations of the Hungarians and to the execrations against them which could be heard all over the western world during the tenth century, and which were faithfully copied into the chronicles of that time. In these chronicles they were charged with devouring the hearts of their enemies in order to render themselves irresistible in battle. Signs in the heavens were said to herald their approach. Virgins devoted to the service of God foretold the irruptions of the Hungarians and their own martyrdom. Mere human power seemed hopeless against them; the litanies of that time, therefore, abound in special prayers asking for the protection of the Lord. Impartial history easily recognizes in all this partly exaggerations, partly outbreaks of dismay, and the effects of fright, but these utterances, overdrawn as they are, contribute much to our knowledge of the violence of the struggle between the western Christians and the Asiatic Hungarians. Quite differently and by no