“Few were the numbers she could boast, But every freeman was a host, And felt as though himself were he On whose sole arm hung victory.” Thus a seemingly unimportant event in the remote Alps became the key-note of European thought, literature, art, and language; for it inspired not only statesmen, historians, orators, and poets, but painters, sculptors, and composers. It influenced and exercised pen, pencil, and chisel, and expanded the vocabulary; for who has not seen, heard, read _Wilhelm Tell_ in his own or some other language? The legend of Tell has a companion piece doubtless as mythical to the sceptical, being of the same historic period, and occurring at the battle of Sempach. This was one of the great battles which terminated the long and obstinate struggle begun at Rütli, and, like all other famous achievements, is remembered in connection with a special example of personal self-sacrifice; still it passes historical scrutiny unchallenged, though no better authenticated, and in many respects more contentious than the heroism of Tell. On the 9th of August, 1386, Duke Leopold was marching against Zurich to fight the last battle which Austria presumed to try against the Forest Cantons. He had the flower of the Austrian nobility, 4000 knights and barons, each with his own vassals, forming an army of veterans in columns 20,000 strong. A handful of brave Swiss, numbering 1400 stout and fearless mountaineers, went out on foot to meet them; they came up with the enemy at Sempach. The mail-clad warriors, dismounting from their steeds, presented a solid and impregnable barrier of lances; the Swiss were rudely armed with halberds and _morgensterne_.[105] According to their ancient custom, they knelt in silent prayer; arising, they placed themselves in column, presenting an angle, and charged. Again and again they dashed against these protruding lances that stood as firm as a wall of stone. Out of their little number sixty had died in vain; hearts seemed ready to fail; the Austrians were beginning to open in order to surround them. At this crisis Arnold Winkelried, “a trusty man amongst the confederates,” dropped his weapon, and, rushing forward, cried out, “I will open a way to freedom; protect my wife and children!”[106] Being of great size and strength, he clutched as many of the enemy’s lances as his arms could embrace, gathered their points and buried them in his bosom, and as he fell drew his enemies with him. Before the Austrians could extract them his companions took advantage of the gap, rushed over his expiring body into the ranks of the enemy; a breach being made in the wall of mailed warriors, what seemed an inevitable defeat was turned into glorious victory. “Heed not the corpse,” says Byron’s Saul to his warriors and chiefs, admonishing them as to what they are to do should the lance and the sword strike them down in the front. Sempach is a story of thrilling heroism, and in little over half